Rebecca

May 17, 2008

Rebecca (1940) *****

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock

The title character of Hitchcock’s Rebecca is one of the most hateful and loathsome villains in movie history. Yet, no actress can claim the role as her own. Why? Because Rebecca is dead well before the film takes place. Rebecca is the name of the deceased wife of Maxim de Winter, the owner of the Manderlay estate. Maxim is played by the great Lawrence Olivier as a suave but sad man who falls for a young, sweet and innocent companion to a very mean woman, played wonderfully by Florence Bates. This young woman becomes the new Mrs. De Winter. With her new name, she must deal with constant comparisons to Rebecca, described as smart and beautiful. Mrs. De Winter, played exquisitely by Joan Fontaine, never had much of a sense of self-confidence, and having to be compared to someone so seemingly perfect just makes life very unhappy for her.

We are introduced to the house staff, headed by Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson). Mrs. De Winter rightly thinks that Mrs. Danvers doesn’t like her. As Fontaine’s character meets those who know Maxim and knew Rebecca well, she learns that she is to be careful of Maxim’s violent temper. Mrs. De Winter feels trapped and haunted by the lingering presence of Rebecca that exists, not as a ghost, but in the affection of everyone around her, especially Maxim.

In the young woman’s mind, Maxim still loves Rebecca. Confirmation of this seems to continue over and over as Maxim grows more distant the more Mrs. De Winter inquires about and tries to take the place of Rebecca.

I could see the ending coming from far away. At least I thought I could. After a boat is found with a corpse in it (Rebecca’s body was found and identified a few years prior), the entire movie takes on a completely different twist. Characters we thought were bad become good and the focus of the story moves completely away from one character and onto another. I’m so glad the film did this, because I loved Joan Fontaine’s character and though she may not be the most important character in the film, I loved spending time with her journey into this most peculiar of situations.

For a film from 1940, Rebecca tackles some pretty provocative storylines. Mrs. Danvers is obviously a lesbian and a crazy one at that. When she shows Mrs. De Wilde Rebecca’s underwear drawer, I was amazed that the film wasn’t trying for any subtext. The homosexual undertones were blatant. While by today’s standards this plot point would not be very shocking, watching the film brought me back to a more innocent time in movies before graphic violence, bad language and nudity were commonplace. So when the film went for it all the way regarding the same-sex attraction, I was deeply surprised and ultimately impressed.

Rebecca takes the viewer on a clear journey for quite a while before abruptly driving down a different road. Even after the twist, we continue to be surprised. When I realized that I was wrong at first about where the movie was heading, I quickly changed my guess and figured it would be about the horrible ways characters need to cover up a crime. Mrs. De Winter is so good and pure throughout that I believed a contrast was inevitable. She would have to be corrupted. Well, actually, no. The film once again changes direction allowing Mrs. De Winter to remain a protagonist.

I’m noticing a pattern in Hitchcock movies regarding flawed women trapped in dangerous or terrible situations. Rebecca does include the woman trapped, but she really isn’t flawed much at all. This is the first Hitchcock heroine that I fully embraced. Even Janet Leigh in Psycho and Ingrid Bergman in Notorious have dark sides. If the fate of Mrs. De Winter was to become a monster, then Rebecca would have won. Ultimately, Rebecca loses big time! Her manipulative and evil nature pushes someone over the edge causing this character to do something crazy by the very end of the movie. Of course, I don’t believe in vigilante justice, but here is one of the few deceased characters that I’m glad finally got what she deserved!

The Birds

May 17, 2008

The Birds (1963) ****

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock

In the hierarchy of being, humans pride themselves in thinking they are uncontested at the very top, holding dominion over the rest of creation. Hitchcock’s bloody horror film, The Birds, paints a disturbing scenario where we cannot be sure of our place in relation to other species. The movie isn’t so much about heavy philosophical insight as much as an excuse to show some pretty graphic scenes of terror (graphic at least for 1963). Yet, it brings up an unsettling question—would we stand a chance in a war with another species? Are there any creatures that would have a superior advantage over us?

Daphne Du Maurier’s story and Evan Hunter’s screenplay claim that we don't have a hope against birds. Are there any animals that seem as mystical as birds? First of all, they can fly. Sure, we know that it has a lot to do with aerodynamics and such, so it’s not like a special power. Even still, you and I can’t fly unless we pay a lot of money to sit in a huge and uncomfortable machine which we have had to wait a few hours to board. Birds got one up on us in that way. The soundtrack throughout the film contains some recognizable bird noises, but also strange, echoed almost guttural shrieks. Personally, these sounded quite demonic and evil to me. It’s almost a rule in recent and modern horror films that the audience hears inexplicable and eerie sounds in order to add tension and suspense. They reverberate in such a way that we feel they are coming from another world.

The scary thing is, many of these same macabre calls come from birds themselves. Sure, when we hear one bird, it’s fine. Whenever we hear a number of birds, we naturally pause and look to make sure everything’s alright. They have sharp beaks. Some eat dead carcasses. They will attack when cornered.

Hitchcock does not have the birds think, which is good cause the movie most likely would never have worked had the birds not felt authentic. They full-on attack irregularly, which in one sense adds to the suspense, and in another, gives the people of the town of Bodega Bay a chance. These birds aren’t instruments of evil. They’re instruments of instinct, and for some reason, their instincts sometimes tell them to peck and peck hard. The only tool the Brennans and Melanie have is their intelligence and their technology. Use a hammer and a nail to keep them out. Run out to a car and drive away. Unfortunately, these tools and their intelligence only go so far. It slows the birds down for awhile, but their sheer brute force wins. Without giving away the ending, the birds do win. When they attack, they succeed in their path of destruction. Yet, I will not say whether everyone dies or lives. The birds aren’t trying to hunt people down. They simply feel cornered or caged in this world as a whole and must attack in order to feel free.

Melanie Daniels, played by Tippi Hedren in the role she was always most associated with, enjoys practical jokes. She plays one in a bird shop pretending to work there to mess around with Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor) who is looking for lovebirds for his younger sister. Brenner reveals that he knew Melanie’s game all along, which intrigues her. Perhaps she has found her equal. She decides to one up Mitch by buying the lovebirds and traveling to his house in Bodega Bay and leave them there without him finding out. In Bodega Bay, she meets Annie Hayworth (played by the great Suzanne Pleshette), Mitch’s sister’s teacher and his former lover. Mitch catches Melanie and invites her over to dinner to meet his sister Cathy and his mother Lydia (Jessica Tandy). Melanie gets attacked first in a boat, and then a bird dies on Annie’s front doorstep. Next, the birds attack the schoolchildren. We question whether Melanie’s sins are causing the birds to attack the town. That question is answered when Lydia discovers the body of a neighbor whose eyes have been pecked out, and we learn of a patron at a diner who experienced a bird attack the prior week. Why these birds are attacking have nothing to do with any one person.

The special effects in The Birds seems a bit dated, but not horrible. Animated slides of birds flapping add to the illusion of the number of birds. Yet, I swear that even during these scenes, I could see real birds used. In close ups, people are obviously attacked by flapping puppets. All of the artificialities of the special effects are forgotten about during that last scene that shows literally hundreds of real birds taking up every square foot of the Brennans’ front yard. Birds aren’t intelligent enough to understand property, but if every bit of the Brennans’ yard is inhabited by a different species, then can they really claim the property as theirs anymore?

I remember reading somewhere that this is the most violent of all Hitchcock’s films. You can tell that the film wasn’t made to win awards. It was meant to disgust and disturb, and on that level, it succeeds brilliantly. If Hitchcock were still making movies today, I’m sure he’d make some amazing films, and then every once in a while, he might lower his standards and make an extreme horror film. I can’t even imagine how disturbing these would be. Today's horror movies succeed in grossing people out. Imagine that same level of deranged violence by a filmmaker that actually knows how to bring horror to a film. I cringe even thinking about it.

Saving Private Ryan

May 17, 2008

Saving Private Ryan (1998) ***1/2

Directed by Steven Spielberg

When I was 17, I remember reading the review of Saving Private Ryan in the Asbury Park Press on the Saturday morning after its opening night. The review was glowing, but what stuck out to me was the repeated notion that the violence in this film is supposed to be extremely brutal. I’m almost positive that the reviewer mentioned this as one of the most violent films ever made.

In general, violent films make me nervous. My fear is that a film could actually disturb me in a way that I won’t be able to shake off. There are images that I simply don’t want to have stay in my head. Therefore, I will never see movies like Hostel or the remake of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre because I believe that they have the potential to damage me psychologically. Of course, odds are that I could watch the most horrific, disgusting or scary movie ever made and I’d be just fine. Yet, I still get anxious whenever I begin to watch a movie rated R for violence.

So, Saving Private Ryan intrigued me. My friend Jenn and I were going to see a play that night, and so we decided to go see an afternoon movie first. I’m thinking that I mentioned how nervous I was to see Saving Private Ryan and she just demanded that we go see it so I could get over my fear. My memory could be completely off, but remembering what kind of personality Jenn had, it makes sense.

We sat in a packed theater and all through the coming attractions, I was petrified. My heart was racing a mile a minute. The opening scene in Arlington Cemetery came and went, followed by a close up shot of soldiers on a boat heading towards Normandy Beach. Then the violence starts. Almost immediately, we see gruesome images on screen. At that point, I relaxed. The violence is going to be realistic, and the camera obviously isn’t going to surprise us with gratuitous gore. So, I was okay.

The opening war sequence, the best battle scene I’ve ever seen in movie history, paints an ugly picture of war. The handheld camera work allows us to feel like we are one of the ones in battle, with bullets racing past our heads and the horrors of fatally wounded soldiers all around. A man searches for his amputated arm, picks it up and keeps walking. Another man screams as his intestines lie next to him on the ground. A communications soldier tries to place a call one minute and has his face completely blown off the next.

The closing war scene, while inferior to Normandy Beach, still works exceptionally well, showing us one by one how each of the men from the 2^nd Rangers deals with this onslaught of enemy fire. Some die quickly, while others know they are going to die and live with that knowledge for a period of time before they meet their fate. One soldier breaks down, while another survives the entire battle.

I remember Jenn and I walking out of the theater, into the parking lot and to my car in complete silence. Then, I believed that I had just witnessed one of the absolute greatest movies I’d ever seen. The film really affected me strongly. When Shakespeare in Love won the Best Picture Oscar instead of Saving Private Ryan that year, I was furious. When first compiling my Greatest Movies list, Saving Private Ryan began in the top 20, and stood before this viewing at number 26.

After a second go around, I realized that Saving Private Ryan is actually a flawed film with a great battle scene at the beginning and a great battle scene at the end. The other hour and forty-five minutes in between really don’t work at all. The dialogue that these men speak is heavy-handed and unrealistic. One plot point of the film that I hated involved a German POW whose life was spared thanks to Cpl. Upham (Jeremy Davies) only to have the same POW spare his life when they coincidentally meet again. The things that this German POW says while digging a grave and trying to argue that he loves America were embarassing.

Tom Hanks, of course, is excellent. The great supporting cast commit beautifully to their parts. Spielberg’s direction throughout is top notch—he earned that Best Director Oscar. Saving Private Ryan will be remembered and studied in film school for a very long time if for nothing else the opening battle. I’d be surprised, though, if many film school professors would show the entire film. Saving Private Ryan is poorly written, but exceptionally well made! See the first thirty minutes and then scene skip to the last thirty minutes. That’s an hour worthy of all the praise I gave the film when I was 17!

E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial

May 16, 2008

E. T.: The Extra-Terrestrial (1982) *****

Directed by Steven Spielberg

Definitely, E.T. is one of the one hundred greatest movies I’ve ever seen! Yet, I cannot put it on my hundred greatest list right now because my emotional state remains completely wrecked, and I want to make the decision of where it falls based on reason and not just clouded sentimentality. Yes, I will admit that I cried—though why should I be embarrassed? Anyone who has seen E.T. knows that this American treasure is one of those exceptionally powerful experiences which comes along in only the most special of films. E.T. has made my own love for movies all that much more fervent. This is what it's all about! This feeling I am feeling right now is what I absolutely hope for every time I put a new movie into my DVD player.

For some reason, I cannot pinpoint when I’ve seen this movie before this latest viewing. I’m guessing I watched it in the middle of the night as a kid when I stayed up late and my parents had gone to bed. As I watched this time, I realized that every single scene was already stored in my memory, though some I recalled much more vividly than others. Before today, I could remember the spaceship landing at the beginning, Elliot calling his brother “penis breath” (I remember thinking that was hilarious when I first heard it! Okay, yeah I’ll admit, it’s still hilarious!), the scene where E.T. and Elliot are both drunk, Elliot and E.T. wasting away in the tent and the final scene in the forest. Only just now was I reminded of some of the other scenes which I will no doubt remember from this point on—the great scene involving little Gertie and the mom Mary (Dee Wallace) who keeps looking in just the right direction to miss seeing E.T., the liberation of the frogs, the dialogue between the dying Elliot and Keys and that withering flower.

Spielberg clearly wanted to tell this story in a tone that can best be described as fantasy hovering on the outskirts of reality. With the few exceptions of E.T.’s magical abilities, the psychic connection between E.T. and Elliot and the surety of the existence of extraterrestrial life, the movie presents a fictionalized reality, but reality none the less. For the most part, these scenes are plausible. Yet, the execution of many of the sequences have huge elements of exaggeration and broadness. Take a scene which in any other movie would be horrible—the liberation of the frogs. First of all, kids Elliot’s age don’t dissect frogs. Also, the teacher talks in a way that no teacher would talk to children of Elliot’s age. When Elliot releases the frogs, we get these scenes of hundreds of frogs causing a ruckus! If the scene were to be played literally, there would be thirty frogs at the most. Instead, we get this joyous scene of complete chaotic abandon, all while E.T. watches a completely over the top scene from The Quiet Man! Remember how huge the world seemed when you were little? Judging from scenes like this one, I can guarantee you that Spielberg remembers.

In just about every single moment before E.T. is found out, there are always noticeable and significant touches to add a fantasy element. Simply look at the way the movie is lit. Every doorway absolutely radiates light in the same way E.T.’s spaceship radiates light from its entrance. Spielberg didn’t invent this connection between aliens and bright lights, but he uses it brilliantly to make the entire film exist on a level of pseudo-reality.

In a movie about aliens, why hold back at all? As a matter of fact, going as far as possible with every single detail and idea allows the inclusion of an extraterrestrial being to feel consistent. Also, since viewers like me allow our emotions to connect with those of Elliot, we are absolutely treated to such pure magic when the final forest scene goes on and on. If that scene were still going on, I’d be totally with it even now!

E. T. works as fantasy, as science fiction, as comedy, as action (the bicycle chase is great) and most of all, as a movie about friendship. This is the best friendship I’ve ever seen in movies, and I’ve calmed down enough to be able to say that with confidence in my rationality. The cinematography at least equals every single non-Citizen Kane film I’ve ever seen. The performances by two of the child actors—Henry Thomas as Elliot and Drew Barrymore as Gertie—are probably the greatest examples of acting ever filmed by children of their ages. This isn’t at all a backhanded compliment when I say that this is one of Drew Barrymore’s very best performances! I’ve never seen a six year old even come close to being so real and also so hilarious! As for Thomas, go back and watch the scene where he is saying goodbye to E.T. because he thinks he is dead. It would have been easy for any actor to overplay a scene like that. Thomas actually keeps the scene intimate, and as he’s walking by the flower, he convinced me that he did not foresee the flower’s rejuvenation. A great actor doesn’t play the scene knowing how it ends. It’s extraordinary for such a young child to succeed so impressively.

Spielberg must know that he has created a handful of films that will live on forever! How proud he should be of E.T.! For as long as there are films and there are children as well as adults who still want to clap to save Tinkerbell in Peter Pan, E.T. will remain revered and treasured by so many generations to come. Not only is this possibly the greatest children’s movie ever made, E.T. may be the purest example of the fact that films can simply increase the amount of joy in this world, and seen collectively, in all the other worlds that are out there!

Afterthoughts Post 1

May 15, 2008

Afterthoughts Post 1

Tonight I’m taking the night off from watching movies. I’ve watched one every night this week. Also, the season finales of both The Office and CSI are on tonight. Instead, I thought I’d offer my first Afterthoughts post. After I review a film, I spend some time learning about the movie from imdb.com and other reviews. For the most part, my policy is that I don’t go back and change reviews (unless I was just flat wrong about a plot element or a specific detail). Instead, I will use this forum to share some of my newly acquired knowledge about films I’ve recently seen.

Notorious- Staircases! The final scene involving two people descending an outdoor staircase to their freedom and another person ascending the same staircase to his doom has really stayed with me since I’ve read about the praise this scene has been given over the years. Also interestingly, if you count the number of steps that Grant and Bergman take on the way down the indoor staircase and compare it with the number of steps on that same staircase when viewed from a long camera shot, you will realize that they don’t match. Hitchcock wanted to prolong the suspense of the scene by adding steps which really didn’t exist on the staircase itself. Here’s an amazing example of how literal interpretation takes a backseat to added entertainment!

The Maltese Falcon- I didn’t realize that this movie gave Bogart his big break. He had previously been cast as second-rate gangsters. The Maltese Falcon proved that he could be a star. I guess we have this movie to thank for giving us the greatest actor in film history.

Blowup- I had absolutely no idea that this film was hugely revered in the late sixties and early seventies and has all but fallen off the radar screen of mainstream appreciation. When audiences saw this movie, they were drawn to its eroticism, which seems pretty funny today since the sex scenes are awfully tame based on today’s standards. People were going to see this movie because they heard that you could see nudity never shown before in a British film. Well, regarding the specific nudity they were interested in, you maybe see it for a brief second. I’m amused that this movie was so alluring in that way. Also, David Hemmings’ career took off after this movie was made. He became heavy set in his later roles, apparently almost indistinguishable from how he looked during Blowup. One of Hemmings’ lasts films was Gladiator. I’ll have to keep an eye out since Blowup was the first time I’ve ever heard of him.

Silent Running- Can you believe that Roger Ebert gave this movie four stars??? I couldn’t even bring myself to read a glowing review of this movie I hated! Admittingly, there are some interesting bits of trivia (infinitely more interesting than the movie itself). The drones Huey, Dewey and Louie were actually multiple amputee actors in costume. Also, after the success of Easy Rider, Hollywood greenlit a few films with budgets under one million dollars giving young up and coming directors complete artistic control in the hope that at least one could come up with a project as innovative and bankable as Easy Rider. Silent Running was one of these movies. The special effects were actually done by college students, which does explain a lot. Still, they’re horrible even for college students with no budget! Also, I’m still pretty steamed that they recycled the same effects sequences over and over again within the film. Okay, with the exception of future worst movie lists, I am hopefully done talking about this movie forever!

Silent Running

May 14, 2008

Silent Running (1972) Zero Stars

Directed by Douglas Trumbull

Somewhere around the fifty minute mark, I wanted to take the DVD out of the player and use it as a coaster. There’s something almost cruel about a defenseless DVD having to degrade itself by showing Silent Running. Not since 1994’s North have I seen a movie so reprehensible, offensive and despicable! It’s going to take quite a movie to take the title of Worst Film Ever away from North, and yet Silent Running is the only film I’ve seen that also belongs in the same seventh layer of hell.

I couldn’t control my disgusted laughter when uber-tool Freeman Lowell (there’s a subtle name for you—Freeman) names his robot drones Huey and Dewey. The drone that just “died” he named of course Louie. You’ve got to see these drones to understand how absolutely ridiculous they look. Freeman talks to them like they are four years old, and they respond by nodding, cowering, grieving and playing poker. If they really deserve to be talked to like toddlers, then why would Freeman have allowed them to perform surgery on his leg in a prior scene?

The plot goes back to that old (very old and tired) shtick of the man alone in civilization trying to stay sane and come to terms with the meaning of this new solitary existence. Silent Running is the third film on Filmspotting’s 70s Sci-Fi marathon. Ironically, the film steals from the first movie in this marathon, The Omega Man. I trashed Omega Man’s amateurishness and corniness, but that film is Star Wars compared to this rotting piece of cinematic crap. Nature has vanished on earth itself, so they have to live on a spaceship which contains many domes of trees, animals, lakes and happiness. They get the announcement that they can return to earth, but in doing so, must destroy all of the nature domes. Lowell kills before the last dome is destroyed. I’m not sure exactly how he killed this dude. It seemed to me like he just touched the shovel’s handle to the guy’s neck. Maybe it’s a magical death shovel! Or maybe this movie sucks!

Now, when someone asks me what I think is the worst performance in film history, I can answer without hesitation—Bruce Dern in Silent Running. Just to let you know, I banged each letter of his name into my keyboard out of sheer anger. Dern’s performance is simply disgusting. How could he think so low of the viewing public that we would possibly buy his ghastly excuse for acting? I’m serious—what a jerk! He should be ashamed of himself for this. I am completely not kidding at all when I say that I am absolutely furious at even the thought of this rotten performance.

The sets look like the sorts of things you’d see waiting on line for a space themed roller coaster—spray-painted plastic meant to look like futuristic fiberglass. The special effects are so obviously miniatures, and the same special effects scenes are repeated verbatim up to four times in its ninety minute length. Joan Baez sings horrible songs which are simply there to lengthen the running time. Many scenes are painful to watch because I felt embarrassed for everyone involved in the same way I am embarrassed for someone who makes a fool out of himself by appearing on Jerry Springer or Tela Tequila’s show. Of course, in a movie like Silent Running without a single inkling of a genuine idea throughout, we have to have a scene of, yep you guessed it, a man running silently.

Please do not see this movie. Just don’t. This movie depressed me because the money used to make it could have gone into making a different film—one that maybe has even the slightest respect for cinema and the countless people that spend money to see quality entertainment. Silent Running is a big middle finger to moviegoers everywhere. There’s a part of me that thinks it my duty not to send the DVD back to Netflix and instead just throw it away. Of course, I won’t do that, but it saddens me that in four days, this film and the poor DVD it was burned onto are going to be in the hands of the next in a long line of good people duped by this rancid piece of monkey vomit.

Swing Time

May 14, 2008

Swing Time (1936) ****1/2

Directed by George Stevens

You know those movies you watch over and over as a kid? I remember being fifteen and watching Ghostbusters on a Friday night and then waking up Saturday morning craving another viewing. That weekend, I think I watched that one a total of four times. I also remember a similar incident when I was about eleven watching the musical Oliver for the first time. The next day I had to see it again.

Swing Time was one of those movies on AFI’s 100 Greatest Movies List that I kind of felt lukewarm about seeing. I since have succeeded in watching all one hundred movies, but at the time, I excitedly anticipated some more than others. Swing Time was released in 1936! I mean, come on! That’s seventy years ago! There’s no way a film like that would hold up today! Never having seen an Astaire/Rogers film before (or any movie with either of them apart), I sat down begrudgingly to watch so that I could check number 90 off AFI’s list.

Of course, I was not just pleasantly surprised, but absolutely dumbstruck that I had gone this far in my life as a lover of movie musicals without seeing this legendary couple dance in one of their nine iconic film collaborations! Unlike Ghostbusters and Oliver, I did not sit down and watch Swing Time again immediately. Only today did I finally watch again, which quenched the desire I’ve had since the first viewing to acquire a second one.

The first hour of Swing Time is nothing short of tremendous! Though I loved it the first time, I realized this time how absolutely funny the film can be. The Golden Globes group musicals and comedies together in the same category for Best Picture. This seems a bit odd considering such serious musicals as West Side Story and Cabaret. Yet, the old musicals seem to fall appropriately under the title musical comedy. For as much singing and dancing in Swing Time, there was at least as much zesty one-liners.

The comedy contained in the sequence involving the cuffs in the pants worked brilliantly, both at the beginning and at the end, bringing the film full circle with quite a lot of humor. The inclusion of the comedic sidekicks Pop and Mabel, played wonderfully by Victor Moore and Helen Broderick, allowed the two lead characters, Lucky and Penny (Astaire and Rogers), to shift in and out of romance. The romance itself succeeds because, in my opinion, Astaire absolutely looks like he is in love with Rogers from the beginning. In real life, these two were close friends, but of course their chemistry together is undeniable. Astaire uses that chemistry, directing it towards his other half all to enhance the film’s entertainment value.

Fred Astaire, let’s face it, is kind of strange looking. His eyes are huge; his face is long and shaped like an upside down triangle; his hairline has receded. Please don’t get me wrong—I am not trying to make fun of him. Actually, I connect with Astaire more because he doesn’t have classic Hollywood handsomeness like say a Gene Kelly. I feel almost a disconnection to Kelly because he is so good looking. Someone like that probably wouldn’t talk to most of us regular folks. Astaire, on the other hand, is one of us, lacking the gift of natural good looks, which allows us to feel a real connection with him.

Also, Astaire comes off as a genuinely nice guy in Swing Time. Reading about the film following my first viewing, I’m pretty sure I read that Astaire was always well liked by his co-stars. Even though Lucky is a gambler, chases after the girl, deceives to get what he wants, tries to sneak his way out of his obligations to his fiancée at home and plays around with Penny’s emotions, he never—not once—comes across as anything but an extraordinarily good person.

Rogers is beautiful and dances with so much grace and elegance, and yet she didn’t impress me as much as her dance partner. Though that white dress she was wearing made her look alluring.

I’ve lowered my rating for Swing Time from five stars down to four-and-a-half. My affection for the film hasn’t decreased. Actually, I think I love the film even more after the second viewing. What made me lower the rating was due to the cheesy final few scenes. At one point, Pop, a magician specializing in card tricks, walks up to the table of a nightclub owner who recently lost assets in a bet involving a deck of cards and offers to do a trick for them. They realize at this point that Pop, who chose the winning card during the earlier scene, didn’t play fair and used trickery to win the bet. Why would Pop have gone over to their table in the first place? It’s not just unnecessary. It’s actually antithetical, making the situation worse for everyone.

The last few scenes include a lot of laughing and smiles from all, including Ricky Romero (Georges Metaxa), who just lost his future wife to a man he hates. Instead of storming out of the room Philadelphia Story style, he blesses their marriage and plays them a song, all of which comes across phony and must therefore be faulted. The very last sung performance in the film, which is a mixture of “A Light Romance” and “The Way You Look Tonight,” is absolutely effective and downright lovely. At least the film didn’t end on the same ludicrous note as the scenes preceding it.

Swing Time perfectly captures the sophistication and class of a bygone era of cinema. Astaire and Rogers, both long gone, live on in films that continue to just plain entertain us until we get to the point where our smiles continue non-stop till the screen fades to black. I’m not joking at all when I say that a big part of me wants to watch Swing Time again right now and again tomorrow too! Unfortunately, too many movies to see—too little time!

By the way, there’s dancing in this movie too—and it’s pretty amazing!

Blowup

May 13, 2008

Blowup (1966) *****

Directed by Michelangelo Antonioni

For those of you that like drugs, fashion and mimes playing tennis along with your murder mystery, then here’s a film you might enjoy. Antonioni’s Blowup takes weirdness to the extreme, and yet, it takes it there patiently and quietly. The only thing I knew about Blowup before I watched it was the fact that it helped pave the way for the fashion revolution in the late sixties and early seventies. Antonioni died last year around the same time as Ingmar Bergman. The two were given equally substantial legacy articles in Entertainment Weekly. This surprised me a bit since I’ve always heard about Bergman films even before I saw any of them. Yet, I had never even heard of Antonioni.

Well, once I’m done writing this review, I’m going to find out more about him, because to say the least, he has a fascinating directing style. Blowup feels very similar to Citizen Kane. Every shot is stylized and avant-garde. I can only imagine the storyboarding and visual detail that would have been needed before actually filming any one scene. Some shots are aerial, while others are from the ground up. Some are extremely far away from the subject and many are extremely close. The difference between Citizen Kane and Blowup is that every directorial decision made by Orson Welles was meant to enrich and further the plot as well as add to the different moods contained within. Blowup is all mood, and that mood is sixties mod.

At no point in the movie did I have any clue what was coming next. At first, I thought it might be about a temperamental fashion photographer. Then, I thought it might be about blackmail involving a woman having an affair. Next, I figured that it might be about solving a murder. Yet Blowup includes all these things and at the same time is about none of them.

The last five minutes, similar to the first two minutes, absolutely had me shaking my head in confusion. Both involve mimes who at the beginning ask him for money (yep they talk) and then at the end silently ask the photographer Thomas (David Hemmings) to retrieve their imaginary tennis ball when it gets hit over the fence. Do either of these scenes make sense? If so, it’s not obvious.

After the ending, I was left puzzled, but then I think I settled on a solid interpretation, and a film like this really requires a bit of subjective interpretation. Perhaps the film is only a piece of a larger puzzle which simply unfolds outside of the boundaries of the movie. We never learn anything about anything, but the viewer’s time hasn’t been wasted. In a film focusing so heavily on photography, there’s a voyeuristic quality to Blowup. We spend time simply watching Thomas react to his environment and the situations that present themselves to him. Much of the movie is in silence as Thomas thinks or looks at stuff. In one sense, we are simply watching this particular man for this interesting period of time. Surprisingly, the movie never felt slow at all. I have no idea why, but I found it really engrossing. Is it acceptable to have a film with a plot that begins before the movie begins and ends after the movie ends? There’s no reason why not!

Antonioni and cinematographer Carlo Di Palma must be given credit for making every camera shot interesting and involving. David Hemmings must also be given credit for carrying an extremely intricate and complicated film on his shoulders. Finally, costume designer Jocelyn Rickards is deserving of possibly a lifetime achievement award if nothing else than for the dresses in this movie alone. This may be the only time I will ever mention a costume designer by name in a review. Hey, if I’m going to do it once, it should without question be for the costumes in Blowup

The 100 Greatest Films I've Ever Seen- May 2008

Since I'm seeing so many films, my list of the 100 Best Films I've ever seen is constantly changing. I'll try to post it semi-frequently so everyone can see the changes I've made. Many of the films are cliche choices like Casablanca, Gone with Wind, Citizen Kane and Godfather. Some films I love but aren't generally seen as excellent (Simon Birch, My Best Friend's Wedding, About a Boy). I've kept this list going for close to sixth months. When I started the last, AI: Artificial Intelligence was at number 100. To show you how much this list has changed, my 98th choice In Good Company was at 53 when I first made the list. So here you go:

1. Ordinary People
2. Citizen Kane
3. Titanic
4. Best Years of Our Lives
5. Casablanca
6. Schindler’s List
7. Gone With the Wind
8. The Truman Show
9. Midnight Cowboy
10. Life is Beautiful
11. The Seventh Seal
12. Once
13. Brokeback Mountain
14. Oliver!
15. Sunset Boulevard
16. Fargo
17. Singin’ In the Rain
18. Double Indemnity
19. 8 ½
20. Beauty and the Beast (1946)
21. The Bicycle Thief
22. The Grapes of Wrath
23. Raging Bull
24. About a Boy
25. Saving Private Ryan
26. Being John Malkovich
27. Apocalypse Now
28. The Godfather
29. West Side Story
30. Bonnie and Clyde
31. Taxi Driver
32. Grave of the Fireflies
33. The Graduate
34. Rashomon
35. Bridge on the River Kwai
36. Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
37. North by Northwest
38. The Departed
39. The Maltese Falcon
40. The Wizard of Oz
41. Dances with Wolves
42. Star Wars: Episode IV: The New Hope
43. Fanny and Alexander
44. 2001: A Space Odyssey
45. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
46. The Sound of Music
47. Stagecoach
48. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
49. The Deer Hunter
50. The Shawshank Redemption
51. Intolerance
52. All About Eve
53. Pulp Fiction
54. The Passion of the Christ
55. Rocky
56. Donnie Darko
57. Nashville
58. My Best Friend’s Wedding
59. The Manchurian Candidate
60. Battleship Potemkin
61. Yankee Doodle Dandy
62. Hoop Dreams
63. Spirited Away
64. The Godfather Part II
65. Jaws
66. Shame
67. City Lights
68. High Noon
69. Annie Hall
70. Duck Soup
71. The French Connection
72. Born on the Fourth of July
73. Rear Window
74. Bride of Frankenstein
75. Babel
76. Victor/Victoria
77. Shane
78. The Prince of Egypt
79. 12 Angry Men
80. Simon Birch
81. No Country For Old Men
82. Evita
83. A Few Good Men
84. Everyone Says I Love You
85. Pleasantville
86. Sullivan’s Travels
87. Beauty and the Beast (1991)
88. Forrest Gump
89. Marty
90. The 400 Blows
91. The Silence of the Lambs
92. Treasure of the Sierra Madre
93. The Apartment
94. Belle de Jour
95. Il Postino
96. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
97. Field of Dreams
98. In Good Company
99. The Gold Rush
100. Sparticus

So my favorite film of all time--Ordinary People. I've seen it five times and every time I do I feel confirmation that this is the best movie I've ever seen. I'm sure I will see it again soon and when I do, I will post a review. If you've never seen it, SEE IT RIGHT NOW!

Waitress

May 11, 2008

Waitress (2007) ****1/2

Directed by Adrienne Shelly

There’s a real sadness to watching Waitress. From what I know, the writer, director and actress in this film, Adrienne Shelly, was murdered while leaving her office by a random madman who didn’t target her at all. We won’t get any more films from Shelly, which is just awful. It would be awful for anyone who died just as his or her career was taking off. Though, there’s just a little extra tint of sorrow because Waitress was so incredibly well written and directed. I also loved Shelly’s performance as the waitress Dawn.

Such a tragedy! I am going to try to watch as many of the other five films she has directed as I can, though I’ve never heard of any of them so they may not be available. Whatever is available deserves to be seen out of respect for Shelly—and also cause this woman had talent, so odds are there may be some good films she had directed prior to Waitress.

I hadn’t planned on watching Waitress, but I had spent the day watching movies from the forties and The Prince of Tides (which sucked), so I wanted a light, more recent, hopefully uplifting movie. So I ordered Waitress from my pay-per-view and settled down to enjoy a movie that was most likely going to be good at best.

As the movie began, we see pies made by the gorgeous Keri Russell as Jenna, a waitress in a pie diner who has a horrible husband. Almost immediately, we learn that Jenna is pregnant, which isn’t good because she can’t bear her marriage anymore. The baby seems to end the faint glimmer of hope that Jenna can start new on her own.

Ironically, the pregnancy gives her an opportunity to have an affair with Dr. Pomatter, her obstetrician. He loves Jenna’s pies and comes to love Jenna. The problem—he’s married. She’s married too technically, but she absolutely doesn’t love her husband Earl (Jeremy Sisto) anymore and doesn’t care about hurting him since he is a monster to her. So what is Dr. Pomatter doing having an affair?

This may sound like a pretty heavy movie so far, but actually it’s an extremely funny and whimsical romantic comedy. We have hilarious supporting performances from Shelly, Cheryl Hines and most of all from the great Andy Griffith playing Old Joe, the cantankerous, but ultimately kind owner and patron of the diner Jenna works at. We don’t get the wholesome Andy Taylor here. Joe is horny and crass. This bit of casting was inspired.

The real standout performance in the film is Keri Russell. Formally from TV’s Felicity, Russell is one of those actresses that is on the brink of superstardom. I’m going to make a prediction that she will be the next Julia Roberts. She is as loveable and absolutely as talented. She gives an Oscar caliber performance in Waitress. If only the Academy could go back in time and un-nominate Cate Blanchet for Elizabeth: The Golden Age and nominate Russell for this movie. She is absolutely radiant here. I fell in love! J

Even such cliché ideas as the abusive husband, the affair and the birthing scene are done with such intelligence that we absolutely go along for the ride. The end of the movie which dramatically elevates the irony of the pregnancy was perfect. Granted, I saw it coming, but the execution of it was spot on. There are also signs of Shelly’s talent as a director. Right after Jenna gives birth, she looks at the two men in her life but her point of view shot blurs them, which foreshadows what is about to happen. Another trick I loved came when Earl’s dialogue is muted. We don’t need to hear what he says. I don’t think we are supposed to think that Jenna can’t hear him either, but that whatever he says no longer affects her in the slightest.

This is one of those romantic comedies that I could watch over and over again. If I could add one thing to the film, I would have loved more of her spontaneous pie creations in her head. Of course, the sequence could have gotten old after a while, but I loved the ideas for many of these pies. They’re unique to say the least, but they sound delicious! Shelly deserves to have this movie find an audience on DVD. Hey, if Waitress is Adrienne Shelly’s legacy, then she should be celebrated as an exceptional moviemaker!

The Maltese Falcon

May 11, 2008

The Maltese Falcon (1941) *****

Directed by John Huston

What really struck while watching The Maltese Falcon for the second time this year was its amazing pace. The film begins mysteriously with the entrance of “knockout” Brigid O’Shaughnessy (Mary Astor), moves quickly to the murder of Sam Spade’s partner, continues with a middle of the night investigation and advances on and on with surprising twists. It was fun to watch Astor change her performance mid-scene when Humphrey Bogart’s Sam Spade wasn’t buying O’Shaughnessy’s act.

The first time I saw this movie, I was expecting more than simply brilliant dialogue, directing and acting. I wanted more action, or comedy, or violence or something. So, I was a little disappointed. Yet, I always felt that I didn’t “get” the greatness of the movie, which was my fault and not the movie’s. So I was looking forward to watching it again to at least see what everyone else loved about it.

Boy, was I pleasantly surprised by the fact that I fell in love with The Maltese Falcon this time around. Immediately, I recognized the top notch acting, film-noir dialogue and mystery which are all absolutely sublime here. Bogart as Sam Spade is so damn cool, and his performance is wonderfully straightforward. There’s no sentimentality here. Spade is a man that lives outside of both the law and crime. Thus, everyone sort of trusts him because they think he’s on their side, or at least has the potential to be on their side. Ultimately, it would be smarter for all involved not to trust him at all. At the end of the film, Spade does choose a side in the situation, but not because he has always been loyal, but because that’s the choice he made in this scenario. Spade’s conscience doesn’t allow murder to go unpunished. Yet, for a lesser crime, I have a feeling he might have gone the other way.

I personally would love to get my hands on a replica of the falcon itself and sit it right next to my television. The falcon is arguably the best prop in movie history. We hold our breaths as the wrapping opens up. I wanted the bird to be worth a million dollars, simply because of the set up provided for this statue (a gift offering from crusaders to the Spanish government made out of gold and the finest of jewels gathered from the east).

Sydney Greenstreet, as the obsessed Kasper Gutman, gives one of my favorite villain performances in film history. His big frame is matched by his often jovial personality. I love his laughing delivery of lines like, “By Gad, sir, you are a character. There's never any telling what you'll say or do next, except that it's bound to be something astonishing.”

The final scene of the film lasts almost a half-an-hour. The five main characters are face to face in an apartment. Spade is ultimately in control since he is the only one who knows where the falcon is hidden. Everyone in the room tries to manipulate him, and yet we realize that he is the one manipulating everyone else.

This is one of the best movies ever made, and I feel excited about the fact that I’ve seen it and will be able to see it again. Here is a perfectly constructed and executed movie. I have nothing bad to say about it at all, and coming from me, that’s saying something.

Notorious

May 11, 2008

Notorious (1946) *****

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock

Notorious ends with a bit of a letdown. I was expecting a Rear Window, Psycho or North by Northwest style suspense scene. Sure, Notorious is suspenseful in its final scene. The only problem is that I didn’t know that it was the final scene while I was watching it. I thought the climax was yet to come.

Despite the surprise “The End,” Notorious is a breathtaking and enjoyable little movie. Out of the Hitchcock films I’ve seen, this one is the most intimate and small-scale. If one goes into Notorious expecting a real adrenaline rush, he or she may feel shortchanged. The film is definitely not horror and it’s really not all that much of a thriller.

What makes Notorious an amazing picture is of course its director and of course its stars—Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant, both of whom are at the top of their form, especially Bergman.

The U.S. government decides to use Alicia Huberman’s guilt over her father’s treasonous actions to persuade her to spy on a group of Nazis in Rio de Janeiro. Alicia (Bergman) is the perfect spy since her father’s connections gives her credibility amongst these very bad men. Her contact with the government is Agent T. R. Devlin (Grant). The two fall in love and then separate when Alexander Sebastian (Claude Raines), one of the head Nazis, asks her to marry him. Alicia is willing to go far enough to marry (and presumably sleep with) Alex in order to find out information.

Three scenes of suspense work very well including the final scene mentioned above. Another scene, brilliantly realized, occurs when Alicia steals a key from Alex’s key ring. The other happens when that key is used to open a wine cellar where evidence is collected proving that Alex is involved in acquiring uranium.

Devlin’s character loves and resents Alicia all at once. She deserves the resentment to an extent but ultimately proves her loyalty not only to her mission but also to Devlin. When she puts her life in his hands, we absolutely hope that Devlin has let go of all his resentment. Otherwise, he wouldn’t put his life on the line for her.

Notorious is one of the great examples of the iconic films from the forties along with Citizen Kane, Casablanca and The Best Years of Our Lives. It’s not quite in the same category of excellence or entertainment as those films, but it is so wonderfully satisfying that when the film ends a bit abruptly, we want it to continue because of the sheer delight of witnessing such wonderful moviemaking.

The Prince of Tides

May 11, 2008

The Prince of Tides (1991) *

Directed by Barbra Streisand

The very last scene of the film gives us Tom Wingo (Nick Nolte) driving down a bridge outside of Charleston, South Carolina. His internal monologue narrates the scene and builds up to the words Tom speaks “like a prayer” every time he crosses that bridge. We wait in eager anticipation wondering what those two words are. They’ve got to be good if he says them everyday! Then we hear what they are:

“Lowenstein, Lowenstein.”

I’ve seen probably close to 700 movies in my lifetime and by far here are the worst two words to end a film in history. Lowenstein as a word really doesn’t have much poignancy to it. The reason the name was probably chosen (by screenplay writer and the author of the book the film is based on, Pat Conroy) was to emphasize that psychologist Susan (Barbra Streisand) is Jewish. We get no less than ten Jewish jokes in the film… everything from, “Stop being such a Jewish mother,” to, “If this thing works out, do I have to become Jewish,” to, “I should just find me a nice Jewish boy.” Okay, Barbra, we get it… you’re JEWISH!

The Prince of Tides is one of the very worst movies I’ve ever seen, and it’s in a class all its own as the worst Academy Award Best Picture nominee ever! Only two scenes work at all in the entire movie! One involves Tom holding a million dollar Stradivarius violin over a balcony in order to force Susan’s jerk of a husband to apologize to her. This scene is cute and the bastard had what was coming to him. Unfortunately, the scenes before this one are the very worst in an awful movie, so I didn’t feel that this scene redeemed the film at all. I was still viscerally disgusted by the scene of the husband playing Dixie and the dinner conversation involving constant and cruel insults. The husband character isn’t just bad, he’s a monster—an absolutely two-dimensional monster.

Was I surprised that he was so 2-D? Nope, because the entire film plays out like it was written by a five year old who always needs to describe to his mother in total detail what happened in school today. Never are stories from five year olds without exaggeration and broadness. The Prince of Tides has no depth or sense of reality at all. Not a single bit.

Here are nine more things about the film that I HATED:

1. George Carlin as the most stereotypical gay man I’ve ever seen.
2. A gay man in a leather vest and a leather cap asking Tom to dance.
3. Tom dancing not like a bad dancer but like someone high on crystal meth.
4. Streisand offering Tom a job coaching his violinist son in football
5. The same son becoming an ass every time Susan enters the picture
6. The still same son playing a violin number perfectly in a train station. Had he really played that well, he would have drawn a crowd and given applause at the end. Also, his fingers and bowing in no way look in sync to what he is supposed to be playing.
7. A scene involving the boy Tom slapped by his future step-father.
8. A scene involving Tom’s father eating dog food.
9. Tom talking to his mother, making her cry and then having a tender moment right after.

These are only the first nine that came to mind. I could come up with twenty more. There is one great scene and boy this is quite a scene. The scene (which single handedly merited this film its R rating) involves Tom, his sister Savannah and his mother raped by escaped convicts. This scene still could have worked if we didn’t keep going back to it—it flashes between present and past around five times. I applaud the courage of the scene to show what’s going on. It’s one of the most disturbing scenes I’ve ever seen.

Yet, I still had to sit through two hours of other scenes that made me want to turn the TV off and put this DVD right back in the Netflix envelope it came in! Streisand overacts and over-directs the movie. Nolte is actually quite amazing. I so wish he could have been in a better movie—which is pretty much any other movie than this! I believe that had Nolte not given such an excellent performance, the movie would be forgotten about.

Why was this movie nominated for Best Picture? My guess is that audiences were impressed by Nolte’s performance and by the rape scene. Yep, I was impressed by these two elements too, but there’s no category for Best Scene in a movie. Nolte was nominated for Best Actor and deservedly so. The rape scene would be a perfect nominee in a category like Best Scene. The Prince of Tides, on the other hand, is a movie that has no place anywhere near a Best Picture nomination!