Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wild Strawberries
A profound sadness sneaked up on me while I watched Ingmar Bergman's Wild Strawberries. His Seventh Seal was about faith and man's desire for knowledge and the sadness of the human condition, this one is about old age and regret and the sadness of the human condition. A friend of mine said of Bergman at times you are in the mood where you think Bergman is too much, a little too depressing, too heavy handed (still miraculous to watch but just too much) and at times you are in a mood where all you can think is "this is LIFE. On that spectrum, I'd say I was a little toward the latter than the former last night.
The film follows Isak (Victor Sjostrom) on the day he is to receive an honorary degree for his years as a doctor. In a series of dream sequences and real ones, we follow Isak as he travels to the university and relives and makes revelations about his life. He is joined by his daughter-in-law Marianne (Ingrid Thulin) and at times a group of young travelers.
When we first meet Isak we think he lives quite a solitary life (and in fact he does) but soon we discover that he has not been alone per se as he has a housekeeper (and a contentious relationship with her) and his daughter-in-law has been staying with him for a month. Still as his voice-over tells us about him, there is a sad loneliness expressed. As he travels with Marianne, she reveals things to him and makes him reflect on how he has lived his life as do visions of the past that show him things he ultimately could never have known.
There is a great moment in the car when Marianne reveals how similar her husband, his son is and how both are missing something in life. It is her revelation that is great to behold. There is great stuff here, although I prefer Seventh Seal's journey of faith (mainly because faith secretly fascinates me) to this journey of understanding.
I said that a profound sadness sneaked up on me because by movie's end I was almost heart broken with despair. After the day is done and Marianne enters to say goodnight to Isak, he quietly shares the he likes her and she responds she likes him too. And I was as surprised as anyone to find a tear on my cheek. I'm sure that isn't very manly to admit but it was such a genuine moment at the end of the film.
Bergman is depressing stuff and if you aren't in the mood for it or you generally don't care for depressing then I'd say stay away but I think it works and works wonderfully.
The film follows Isak (Victor Sjostrom) on the day he is to receive an honorary degree for his years as a doctor. In a series of dream sequences and real ones, we follow Isak as he travels to the university and relives and makes revelations about his life. He is joined by his daughter-in-law Marianne (Ingrid Thulin) and at times a group of young travelers.
When we first meet Isak we think he lives quite a solitary life (and in fact he does) but soon we discover that he has not been alone per se as he has a housekeeper (and a contentious relationship with her) and his daughter-in-law has been staying with him for a month. Still as his voice-over tells us about him, there is a sad loneliness expressed. As he travels with Marianne, she reveals things to him and makes him reflect on how he has lived his life as do visions of the past that show him things he ultimately could never have known.
There is a great moment in the car when Marianne reveals how similar her husband, his son is and how both are missing something in life. It is her revelation that is great to behold. There is great stuff here, although I prefer Seventh Seal's journey of faith (mainly because faith secretly fascinates me) to this journey of understanding.
I said that a profound sadness sneaked up on me because by movie's end I was almost heart broken with despair. After the day is done and Marianne enters to say goodnight to Isak, he quietly shares the he likes her and she responds she likes him too. And I was as surprised as anyone to find a tear on my cheek. I'm sure that isn't very manly to admit but it was such a genuine moment at the end of the film.
Bergman is depressing stuff and if you aren't in the mood for it or you generally don't care for depressing then I'd say stay away but I think it works and works wonderfully.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The Thin Man
What does it say about me as a person that I can find myself laughing hysterically at a couple that is just a bunch of alcoholics. Truthfully I find myself just wanting to quote from the movie all the ludicrous lines but I'll spare you that, you can check out the memorable quotes on imdb if you want or just go watch the film. William Powell and Myrna Loy are just memorable as the almost always sauced couple who solves a mysterious crime. It's been a long time sense I laughed with such pleasure.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Jaws
A few months ago in response to my friend Nick (Cinema Romantico) who had made a list of the top ten movies, my best friend Brad (Wretched Genius) countered with the following:
"I cannot argue much against your list, but I always die a little inside when people make a list of great movies and do not include "Jaws." It is the perfect blockbuster film. Everything about it (with the exception of the production itself) is flawless. The characters are richly developed, the suspense is actually suspenseful, the effects are seemless, and it has an ending so rousing you forget that sharks don't actually hold large metal objects in their mouths for long periods of time. And Williams' score is a classic. And try to tell me that the monologue about the USS Indianapolis isn't brilliant. Or the scene where Roy Scheider is drunk at the dinner table. Watch the dinner scene again, but don't watch Scheider. Watch Dreyfuss and Lorraine Gary. Brilliant."
Having re-watched Jaws last night I can't help but agree with Brad. And actually I wish he would take more time to express his opinions on movies since I can no longer go hang out with him at a bar on a Friday night and ask him what he thought being so far away.
Jaws takes place on Amity Island a small New England community that makes its money each year from the tourists who laugh and play on its beautiful beaches. Its a small town with recent transplant from New York, Martin Brody (Roy Scheider) as the new local law enforcement. A shark attack has Brody desiring to close the beaches to which the local vendors and town council object greatly. Coming to the island to aid Brody is a shark expert Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) and local fisherman Quint (Robert Shaw) has also volunteered his services. While the first half of the movie is devoted to happenings on the island as the locals bumble and create more devastation, the second half without missing a beat turns into a tense hunt/cat and mouse game between the shark and Brody, Quint and Hooper.
Brad is right about characterization, Brody is fully fleshed out as the police man who came to Amity to escape all the crime and drama of New York. Hooper is smart (ass), shark enthusiast who quickly respects Brody and thinks everyone else on the island may well be a moron. And Quint, Quint is one of those great characters that I suspect a good actor dreams of. I seem to be quoting lots of dialogue in reviews lately but I just can't help how picture perfect the scene when Hooper and Quint meet is.
Hooper is loading his shark gear onto the boat and Quint comes across his shark cage which Hooper explains is an anti-shark cage. And Quint with a bemused twinkle in his eyes and a knowing smile says:
"You go in the cage...cage goes in the water... you go in the water. Shark's in the water. Our shark." and as Quint slowly backs away still with that knowing smile begins to sing of all things: "Farewell and adieu to you, fair Spanish ladies. Farewell and adieu, you ladies of Spain. For we've received orders for to sail back to Boston. And so nevermore shall we see you again."
If you've seen the film before you know why that seen is so telling and if you haven't you find out very shortly. The U.S.S Indianapolis speech that Quint gives later is haunting and genuine and tells one of the most fascinating stories about shark attacks that has ever occurred. And the looks on Brody's and Hooper's faces as they finally understand Quint are priceless.
One of the things that makes Jaws work so well is that you don't see the shark for a full hour and then only briefly and not very well. You don't get a real good look at it until about 80 minutes into the movie and this is exactly when Scheider utters his famous line "we're going to need a bigger boat."
As for the end? Well as the trio fully realizes that they may have just been out thought by a shark and that they might very well be dead soon, things begin happening fast. Spielberg arguing with the writer Peter Benchley about the end's plausibility said something like, if they've followed me for the last two hours, they'll follow me for the next three minutes. And he was write. Its enough to say that Mr. Spielberg should go back and look at his early film and realize that he used to know how to end a movie.
"I cannot argue much against your list, but I always die a little inside when people make a list of great movies and do not include "Jaws." It is the perfect blockbuster film. Everything about it (with the exception of the production itself) is flawless. The characters are richly developed, the suspense is actually suspenseful, the effects are seemless, and it has an ending so rousing you forget that sharks don't actually hold large metal objects in their mouths for long periods of time. And Williams' score is a classic. And try to tell me that the monologue about the USS Indianapolis isn't brilliant. Or the scene where Roy Scheider is drunk at the dinner table. Watch the dinner scene again, but don't watch Scheider. Watch Dreyfuss and Lorraine Gary. Brilliant."
Having re-watched Jaws last night I can't help but agree with Brad. And actually I wish he would take more time to express his opinions on movies since I can no longer go hang out with him at a bar on a Friday night and ask him what he thought being so far away.
Jaws takes place on Amity Island a small New England community that makes its money each year from the tourists who laugh and play on its beautiful beaches. Its a small town with recent transplant from New York, Martin Brody (Roy Scheider) as the new local law enforcement. A shark attack has Brody desiring to close the beaches to which the local vendors and town council object greatly. Coming to the island to aid Brody is a shark expert Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) and local fisherman Quint (Robert Shaw) has also volunteered his services. While the first half of the movie is devoted to happenings on the island as the locals bumble and create more devastation, the second half without missing a beat turns into a tense hunt/cat and mouse game between the shark and Brody, Quint and Hooper.
Brad is right about characterization, Brody is fully fleshed out as the police man who came to Amity to escape all the crime and drama of New York. Hooper is smart (ass), shark enthusiast who quickly respects Brody and thinks everyone else on the island may well be a moron. And Quint, Quint is one of those great characters that I suspect a good actor dreams of. I seem to be quoting lots of dialogue in reviews lately but I just can't help how picture perfect the scene when Hooper and Quint meet is.
Hooper is loading his shark gear onto the boat and Quint comes across his shark cage which Hooper explains is an anti-shark cage. And Quint with a bemused twinkle in his eyes and a knowing smile says:
"You go in the cage...cage goes in the water... you go in the water. Shark's in the water. Our shark." and as Quint slowly backs away still with that knowing smile begins to sing of all things: "Farewell and adieu to you, fair Spanish ladies. Farewell and adieu, you ladies of Spain. For we've received orders for to sail back to Boston. And so nevermore shall we see you again."
If you've seen the film before you know why that seen is so telling and if you haven't you find out very shortly. The U.S.S Indianapolis speech that Quint gives later is haunting and genuine and tells one of the most fascinating stories about shark attacks that has ever occurred. And the looks on Brody's and Hooper's faces as they finally understand Quint are priceless.
One of the things that makes Jaws work so well is that you don't see the shark for a full hour and then only briefly and not very well. You don't get a real good look at it until about 80 minutes into the movie and this is exactly when Scheider utters his famous line "we're going to need a bigger boat."
As for the end? Well as the trio fully realizes that they may have just been out thought by a shark and that they might very well be dead soon, things begin happening fast. Spielberg arguing with the writer Peter Benchley about the end's plausibility said something like, if they've followed me for the last two hours, they'll follow me for the next three minutes. And he was write. Its enough to say that Mr. Spielberg should go back and look at his early film and realize that he used to know how to end a movie.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Rear Window
"Rear Window" has such a fantastic set piece to it that you can't help but admire it. The combination of different apartment styles that allow varied windows into the lives of the inhabitants. From the musician who lives in a studio apartment to the dancing girl who does her routine every day in front of a big window to the smallest glimpse of a newly wed couple where the shade is down most of the time. It is at once alive and you accept it.
You also accept that after six weeks of being stuck in a wheel chair that Jimmy Stewart is fully fascinated by his voyeurism. There is always something going on outside his window. When the dancer isn't on display, then a poor lonely woman is coping with life or a long married couple is arguing excessively. So much so that Stewart can not be pried from his viewing even when his nurse is around or more so still when his beautiful lady is there trying to distract him with herself.
Grace Kelly is looking gorgeous as ever and I can't help but recall what a friend once said as we discussed beautiful actresses. "If I'd been Jimmy Stewart in that movie, I sure as hell wouldn't have been looking out that rear window." But you know what? Stewart sells it. His rant about the kind of woman that is right for him, lets you know immediately that he thinks Lisa has it wrong about him, that it will never work out.
When he begins to witness odd things in one of the apartments, he suspects murder and slowly attempts to piece together what happened all from his window and also to intrique the cops. Lisa gets caught up in this and they bond in a way that he never thought possible. There is some nice tension towards the end of the film that works well. Of course everthing from the Simpsons to the recent "Disturbia" has paid homage to this film and it certainly is well done.
Does the suspense work? Well, truth be told its kind of a gimmick. One which doesn't really keep it going but Stewart is convincing and his supporting players give solid performances as well. So you don't really care that the mystery isn't all that interesting. But the fact that the action takes place almost exclusively in one set and quite a bit of it in one room, it is fantastic proof that you don't need varied sets to make a film good.
You also accept that after six weeks of being stuck in a wheel chair that Jimmy Stewart is fully fascinated by his voyeurism. There is always something going on outside his window. When the dancer isn't on display, then a poor lonely woman is coping with life or a long married couple is arguing excessively. So much so that Stewart can not be pried from his viewing even when his nurse is around or more so still when his beautiful lady is there trying to distract him with herself.
Grace Kelly is looking gorgeous as ever and I can't help but recall what a friend once said as we discussed beautiful actresses. "If I'd been Jimmy Stewart in that movie, I sure as hell wouldn't have been looking out that rear window." But you know what? Stewart sells it. His rant about the kind of woman that is right for him, lets you know immediately that he thinks Lisa has it wrong about him, that it will never work out.
When he begins to witness odd things in one of the apartments, he suspects murder and slowly attempts to piece together what happened all from his window and also to intrique the cops. Lisa gets caught up in this and they bond in a way that he never thought possible. There is some nice tension towards the end of the film that works well. Of course everthing from the Simpsons to the recent "Disturbia" has paid homage to this film and it certainly is well done.
Does the suspense work? Well, truth be told its kind of a gimmick. One which doesn't really keep it going but Stewart is convincing and his supporting players give solid performances as well. So you don't really care that the mystery isn't all that interesting. But the fact that the action takes place almost exclusively in one set and quite a bit of it in one room, it is fantastic proof that you don't need varied sets to make a film good.
The Third Man
Apparently the opening voice-over of The Third Man was redone when the film was shown in America, which seems like an utter travesty. Because Carol Reed's narration of post war Vienna is uttered in such a fantastic way and the way it so colloquially rolls into the introduction of Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten) is so pleasant. A let me tell you about this guy I know comfort to it. The American version voiced by Cotten is much less interesting.
The Third Man has Holly, an out of work writer arriving in Vienna having been invited by Harry Lime. He quickly learns that Lime has been killed and the police suspecting he was a smuggler are more than happy to rule it an accident. Holly is not so sure. As Holly investigates he discovers holes in the story and meets Lime's girlfriend, Anna Schmidt (Alida Valli). As Holly discovers what happened and learns about Lime's dark dealings, he struggles with doing the right thing.
Cotten is great as the American asking questions, making everyone from Lime's mysterious friends to the local British detective nervous. Ever the brash American not caring about the complexities of law or the fact that this investigation could result in pain. The reveal late in the film is just right and the final sequence in the sewers of Vienna is paced perfectly.
Not often can one talk about the setting of a movie as being a fully realized character but here is one time where it is no question. Vienna with its bombed out buildings and burned cars and rubble are alive with the action. The dark sewers are haunting and labyrinthine and it works perfectly for what needs to happen. Lime (Orson Welles) has a beautiful amorality that is at times repulsive and at times charming.
From start to finish this triller keeps the interest going and it worth watching. Oh and did I mention the crazy zither score? Crazy because you can't imagine a whole movie scored with zither music. Crazy because it totally works.
The Third Man has Holly, an out of work writer arriving in Vienna having been invited by Harry Lime. He quickly learns that Lime has been killed and the police suspecting he was a smuggler are more than happy to rule it an accident. Holly is not so sure. As Holly investigates he discovers holes in the story and meets Lime's girlfriend, Anna Schmidt (Alida Valli). As Holly discovers what happened and learns about Lime's dark dealings, he struggles with doing the right thing.
Cotten is great as the American asking questions, making everyone from Lime's mysterious friends to the local British detective nervous. Ever the brash American not caring about the complexities of law or the fact that this investigation could result in pain. The reveal late in the film is just right and the final sequence in the sewers of Vienna is paced perfectly.
Not often can one talk about the setting of a movie as being a fully realized character but here is one time where it is no question. Vienna with its bombed out buildings and burned cars and rubble are alive with the action. The dark sewers are haunting and labyrinthine and it works perfectly for what needs to happen. Lime (Orson Welles) has a beautiful amorality that is at times repulsive and at times charming.
From start to finish this triller keeps the interest going and it worth watching. Oh and did I mention the crazy zither score? Crazy because you can't imagine a whole movie scored with zither music. Crazy because it totally works.
Secretary
Every time I see Maggie Gyllenhaal on screen, I like her more and more. From her early scenes fresh from a mental facility and almost still a child to her determined face as she decides what she wants late in the movie, all I can think is man can this woman act. It doesn't hurt that she is joined by James Spader in most scenes. Secretary isn't a perfect movie, it sort of collapses in the last act but I never once doubted Gyllenhaal's conviction.
Maggie plays Lee Holloway a young woman who was recently released from a mental facility and has returned to her dysfunctional home. Hoping not to fall into the same patterns she goes to get a job and applies as a secretary at the law firm of E. Edward Grey (Spader). Grey is an odd duck, seemingly not comfortable in his own skin, hiding from a woman who comes to see him. He finds something intriguing in Lee as Lee does in him.
An odd relationship develops. I say odd because it isn't conventional, which is of course the point. Both Lee and Grey struggle with their secrets and are not sure what to do with the feelings they arouse in each other. Slowly they come to a non-traditional relationship of sado-masochism from which Grey retreats feeling shame in his own feelings. During this time, Grey helps Lee get over her problem (I suppose?).
Lee grows stronger and decides exactly what she wants and begins to try to get more from the relationship that exists. Now I followed this narrative for about two thirds of the film enjoying its desire to explore new ground of romance and it is admirable to that extent. However, the final act comes a bit out of left field with its surrealist qualities and I sort of wish the writers or director had come up with a slightly more credible and interesting way to resolve the issues.
Still Spader and Gyllenhaal hold the slowly sinking ship above water for the remainder of the film and I'm eager to see Ms. Gyllenhaal in another film.
Side Note: Being from Iowa, perhaps I'm over sensitive about this but I couldn't help but fixate on one almost throw away line late in the film. Lee asking a plethora of questions of Grey in an erotic moment is finally answered by her question of where he is from and Grey says "Des Moines, Iowa." It might be a throw-away line but I can't help but suspect that the writer thought to himself/herself cleverly I'll pick the most generically Americana mid-west place I can think of to show you that this kind of lifestyle by no means should be shunned and exists even in what one would think of a stalwart of American traditional values. And to be honest if that is the reason, I find it a little tiresome.
Maggie plays Lee Holloway a young woman who was recently released from a mental facility and has returned to her dysfunctional home. Hoping not to fall into the same patterns she goes to get a job and applies as a secretary at the law firm of E. Edward Grey (Spader). Grey is an odd duck, seemingly not comfortable in his own skin, hiding from a woman who comes to see him. He finds something intriguing in Lee as Lee does in him.
An odd relationship develops. I say odd because it isn't conventional, which is of course the point. Both Lee and Grey struggle with their secrets and are not sure what to do with the feelings they arouse in each other. Slowly they come to a non-traditional relationship of sado-masochism from which Grey retreats feeling shame in his own feelings. During this time, Grey helps Lee get over her problem (I suppose?).
Lee grows stronger and decides exactly what she wants and begins to try to get more from the relationship that exists. Now I followed this narrative for about two thirds of the film enjoying its desire to explore new ground of romance and it is admirable to that extent. However, the final act comes a bit out of left field with its surrealist qualities and I sort of wish the writers or director had come up with a slightly more credible and interesting way to resolve the issues.
Still Spader and Gyllenhaal hold the slowly sinking ship above water for the remainder of the film and I'm eager to see Ms. Gyllenhaal in another film.
Side Note: Being from Iowa, perhaps I'm over sensitive about this but I couldn't help but fixate on one almost throw away line late in the film. Lee asking a plethora of questions of Grey in an erotic moment is finally answered by her question of where he is from and Grey says "Des Moines, Iowa." It might be a throw-away line but I can't help but suspect that the writer thought to himself/herself cleverly I'll pick the most generically Americana mid-west place I can think of to show you that this kind of lifestyle by no means should be shunned and exists even in what one would think of a stalwart of American traditional values. And to be honest if that is the reason, I find it a little tiresome.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
The Seventh Seal
Last night as I settled down late in the evening to enjoy The Thin Man something terrible happened. It turns out the disc was broken and I would not be experiencing this movie. Truth be told I was a little heart broken. I'd been waiting all day for this. So I rushed out to the local Blockbuster and began looking for it, sadly they did not seem to have a copy. But I was there, nothing in collection at home was calling to me (I needed something new). But two friends recently gave me lists of films I should see and I luckily had both on me (and by luckily I mean I made sure I brought them on the crazy off chance that the rental place did not have the movie I was looking for). I ended up renting The Third Man, Secretary and The Seventh Seal.
I thought to myself, its 1030 at night, I can get two movies in before I go to bed. It turns out that was a miscalculation. I was able to get one movie in in that time because I really couldn't watch another movie after seeing Ingmar Bergman's film. If you've ever had one of those experiences where you think you know something, you think sure there may be a detail here or there which you haven't quite got figured out but more or less you know what you are talking about and then suddenly and magically your eyes are opened and you realize you don't know a damn thing, you don't even have half a grasp on what this thing is, then you'll understand why I just made this long rambling sentence.
This past week has been one of repeated shame. I had never seen Casablanca nor Chinatown and well I saw Once Upon A Time In The West so long ago I might as well have never seen it. And what better way to end a week of shame than with The Seventh Seal. When people say movies are an art form, its because of movies like this. The cinematography? unbelievable. The symbolism? fantastic. The writing? I've never heard some of my own thoughts echoed back to me in such an eloquent way. The acting? So much going on in every scene and at times you just have to watch the background actors instead of who is talking because its so telling.
Do I need to give a synopsis? Well for the sake of it I will. Antonius Block (Max von Sydow) has just returned from ten years fighting in the Crusades to his native Sweden. Europe is being decimated by the plague. As Antonius lies on a beautifully landscaped beach, Death appears as it is time. Antonius shrewdly challenges Death to a game of chess because while they play Death may not take him. Antonius is a lost soul, he is desperately searching for knowledge. The film follows him as he travels to his castle and meets with various people along the way all the while playing chess with Death.
Playing chess with Death, wandering along aimless, seeking Truth are all fairly obvious metaphors for the human condition but they are executed here so well. Max von Sydow utters his lines with such power and conviction, at times with a smile on his face that never reaches his eyes and at others with a grim demeanor that saddens you to your soul. And if anyone ever needed an argument that acting is in the person not the words, just watch him and don't read the subtitles.
I was in constant amazement of the shots and the score, my eyes drinking in everything, knowing I was missing ten things for every one I saw. Then came a scene in a church, the play of shadow and light just brilliant, where Antonius is praying at the altar and he sees who he thinks is a monk and goes over to confess. His outpouring of his crisis of faith is so powerful I pushed out of my seat and crawled closer to the screen to watch it. I can't help but quote his monologue:
"Is it so terribly inconceivable to comprehend God with one's senses? Why does he hide in a cloud of half-promises and unseen miracles? How can we believe in the faithful when we lack faith? What will happen to us who want to believe, but can not? What about those who neither want to nor can believe? Why can't I kill God in me? Why does He live on in me in a humiliating way - despite my wanting to evict Him from my heart? Why is He, despite all, a mocking reality I can't be rid of?" - Antonius Block
This is a man who desperately wants to believe. He has seen so much in the Crusades. A lesser movie would have shown some of that, here we get Antonius' anguished face as he pleads partly to the monk, partly to himself, partly to God to just finally give him an answer. The monk is not a monk at all but Death and Death pries him for information. Why does he play chess with Death. And just when you think the scene just can't end in any satisfying way after all that has transpired Antonius at the brink of despair looks at his hand and says "This is my hand. I can turn it. The blood is still running in it. The sun is still in the sky and the wind is blowing. And I... I, Antonius Block, play chess with Death." And I was exhausted.
And despite this phenomenal scene the film still goes on, still assaulting you with images and scenes including a procession of flagellators that was alluded to early on but somehow doesn't prepare you for it or a scene in a tavern where a truly wicked man stirs up trouble for an innocent young man named Jof. But if I was floored by the Church scene and thought it couldn't get any better or more profound I was wrong.
As Antonius sits on a hillside he looks up to see Mia and her son Mikael. Antonius joins her and they have a conversations at times pleasant at times profound like when he pronounces that he keeps the most boring company: himself. Jof, Mia's husband joins them as do Antonius' squire and the girl he has rescued and they all sit down to eat wild strawberries and fresh milk. Jof begins to play the lyre, while the rest are lost in their own reflective worlds, Mia and Antonius continue their conversation. And it dawns on Antonius that he has found a perfect moment, one which no one will ever take away from him and he utters out fantastically:
"I shall remember this moment: the silence, the twilight, the bowl of strawberries, the bowl of milk. Your faces in the evening light. Mikael asleep, Jof with his lyre. I shall try to remember our talk. I shall carry this memory carefully in my hands as if it were a bowl brimful of fresh milk. It will be a sign to me, and a great sufficiency."
And then he walks away with a look on his face I can't really describe with any justice and he looks off and I had to pause the movie. I just couldn't continue for a while. I poured myself a drink and I sort of wandered around my apartment for a while. I lied down on my bed and closed my eyes and just thought about what I had just seen. Eventually I got back up went back to my chair and started watching again. And the movie even after that still doesn't disappoint.
If you are curious about the two scenes I just described and why they are so vivid in my head its because they were just that good so good that after another break when the film ended, I had to go a rewatch those scenes. I know some don't approve of watching a film in tidbits but I often love to do so. And after I had done that I was so drained emotionally, so tired that I couldn't watch another movie if I wanted to and I didn't want to.
This film has that same vivid beauty and grace that I find in Thin Red Line. I've cut down on my movie buying these days but next paycheck, this is going to be on the list. I'll leave it with one of the opening lines:
Antonius: Who are you?
Death: I am Death.
Antonius: Have you come for me?
Death: I have long walked by your side.
Antonius: So I have noticed.
Death: Are you ready?
Antonius: My body is ready, but I am not.
I thought to myself, its 1030 at night, I can get two movies in before I go to bed. It turns out that was a miscalculation. I was able to get one movie in in that time because I really couldn't watch another movie after seeing Ingmar Bergman's film. If you've ever had one of those experiences where you think you know something, you think sure there may be a detail here or there which you haven't quite got figured out but more or less you know what you are talking about and then suddenly and magically your eyes are opened and you realize you don't know a damn thing, you don't even have half a grasp on what this thing is, then you'll understand why I just made this long rambling sentence.
This past week has been one of repeated shame. I had never seen Casablanca nor Chinatown and well I saw Once Upon A Time In The West so long ago I might as well have never seen it. And what better way to end a week of shame than with The Seventh Seal. When people say movies are an art form, its because of movies like this. The cinematography? unbelievable. The symbolism? fantastic. The writing? I've never heard some of my own thoughts echoed back to me in such an eloquent way. The acting? So much going on in every scene and at times you just have to watch the background actors instead of who is talking because its so telling.
Do I need to give a synopsis? Well for the sake of it I will. Antonius Block (Max von Sydow) has just returned from ten years fighting in the Crusades to his native Sweden. Europe is being decimated by the plague. As Antonius lies on a beautifully landscaped beach, Death appears as it is time. Antonius shrewdly challenges Death to a game of chess because while they play Death may not take him. Antonius is a lost soul, he is desperately searching for knowledge. The film follows him as he travels to his castle and meets with various people along the way all the while playing chess with Death.
Playing chess with Death, wandering along aimless, seeking Truth are all fairly obvious metaphors for the human condition but they are executed here so well. Max von Sydow utters his lines with such power and conviction, at times with a smile on his face that never reaches his eyes and at others with a grim demeanor that saddens you to your soul. And if anyone ever needed an argument that acting is in the person not the words, just watch him and don't read the subtitles.
I was in constant amazement of the shots and the score, my eyes drinking in everything, knowing I was missing ten things for every one I saw. Then came a scene in a church, the play of shadow and light just brilliant, where Antonius is praying at the altar and he sees who he thinks is a monk and goes over to confess. His outpouring of his crisis of faith is so powerful I pushed out of my seat and crawled closer to the screen to watch it. I can't help but quote his monologue:
"Is it so terribly inconceivable to comprehend God with one's senses? Why does he hide in a cloud of half-promises and unseen miracles? How can we believe in the faithful when we lack faith? What will happen to us who want to believe, but can not? What about those who neither want to nor can believe? Why can't I kill God in me? Why does He live on in me in a humiliating way - despite my wanting to evict Him from my heart? Why is He, despite all, a mocking reality I can't be rid of?" - Antonius Block
This is a man who desperately wants to believe. He has seen so much in the Crusades. A lesser movie would have shown some of that, here we get Antonius' anguished face as he pleads partly to the monk, partly to himself, partly to God to just finally give him an answer. The monk is not a monk at all but Death and Death pries him for information. Why does he play chess with Death. And just when you think the scene just can't end in any satisfying way after all that has transpired Antonius at the brink of despair looks at his hand and says "This is my hand. I can turn it. The blood is still running in it. The sun is still in the sky and the wind is blowing. And I... I, Antonius Block, play chess with Death." And I was exhausted.
And despite this phenomenal scene the film still goes on, still assaulting you with images and scenes including a procession of flagellators that was alluded to early on but somehow doesn't prepare you for it or a scene in a tavern where a truly wicked man stirs up trouble for an innocent young man named Jof. But if I was floored by the Church scene and thought it couldn't get any better or more profound I was wrong.
As Antonius sits on a hillside he looks up to see Mia and her son Mikael. Antonius joins her and they have a conversations at times pleasant at times profound like when he pronounces that he keeps the most boring company: himself. Jof, Mia's husband joins them as do Antonius' squire and the girl he has rescued and they all sit down to eat wild strawberries and fresh milk. Jof begins to play the lyre, while the rest are lost in their own reflective worlds, Mia and Antonius continue their conversation. And it dawns on Antonius that he has found a perfect moment, one which no one will ever take away from him and he utters out fantastically:
"I shall remember this moment: the silence, the twilight, the bowl of strawberries, the bowl of milk. Your faces in the evening light. Mikael asleep, Jof with his lyre. I shall try to remember our talk. I shall carry this memory carefully in my hands as if it were a bowl brimful of fresh milk. It will be a sign to me, and a great sufficiency."
And then he walks away with a look on his face I can't really describe with any justice and he looks off and I had to pause the movie. I just couldn't continue for a while. I poured myself a drink and I sort of wandered around my apartment for a while. I lied down on my bed and closed my eyes and just thought about what I had just seen. Eventually I got back up went back to my chair and started watching again. And the movie even after that still doesn't disappoint.
If you are curious about the two scenes I just described and why they are so vivid in my head its because they were just that good so good that after another break when the film ended, I had to go a rewatch those scenes. I know some don't approve of watching a film in tidbits but I often love to do so. And after I had done that I was so drained emotionally, so tired that I couldn't watch another movie if I wanted to and I didn't want to.
This film has that same vivid beauty and grace that I find in Thin Red Line. I've cut down on my movie buying these days but next paycheck, this is going to be on the list. I'll leave it with one of the opening lines:
Antonius: Who are you?
Death: I am Death.
Antonius: Have you come for me?
Death: I have long walked by your side.
Antonius: So I have noticed.
Death: Are you ready?
Antonius: My body is ready, but I am not.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Meet Me In St. Louis
Every once in a while convinced I just haven't seen the right musical, I will rent one and watch it. I always try to keep an open mind but I just can't get into musicals. Its weird. I like music and I love music that tells a story but tell a story where people randomly break into song and dance and I just tune out. Still Meet Me In St. Louis as a story did have some charm. And Judy Garland's singing of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" was stirring (I'm a sucker for a Christmas song).
The movie follows St. Louis family during the year before the World's Fair in 1904. The father has decided to move the family to New York and the family is a bit distraught. The older girls are looking for marriage matches and the younger are well I'm not really sure what they are doing. Esther (Judy Garland) is in love with the boy next door and attempts to peak his interest. And yes, occasionally random breaking out into song and dance.
The crazy thing is that two things stuck with me about this film. The first is one of the daughters Tootie (Margaret O'Brien). This little girl is described as rambunctious on the Netflix description but I would have gone with psychotic. In her first introduction she has a long tale about a man who lures kittens into a house and poisons them on and apparently the same guy also beats his wife. And how does her family respond? They laugh. The laugh? What is going on?
She imagines that her dolls get sick with disease and die and then she buries them. And people laugh. Then there was the unforgettable Halloween scene. I must confess I don't know the history of Halloween, it was also just an excuse to get some candy in my day. But apparently in 1903, according to this film, Halloween was a night when children rule in a near anarchic state, starting a bonfire in the middle of the street and hurling chairs and fences into the fire. Then these same kids run up to houses, knock and when answered through flour in the person's face declaring them "dead".
I was exclaiming aloud during this scene "what is going on?" It was like the scene fell right out of Terry Gilliam's imagination. And the whole scene ends with a stunt that seems to have been done in hopes of creating a massacre. And when she reveals what she did, her family just shakes their heads in that "girls will be girls" way. Because apparently little girls are little more than spawns of Satan? I could almost see her as the inspiration for the character Rhoda from The Bad Seed.
Okay enough of the crazy. There was one other scene that I found endearing. Early in the film, Esther attempts to let the poor clueless boy next door know that she likes him. She requests he walk around her house turning off all the lights after a party. He assents presumably understanding her underlying motive but at almost every turn says something or does something that reflects that he just doesn't get it. And the way the scene ends with him like a moron waving goodbye is just too priceless.
I probably like this scene so much because it smacks so truthfully of my own sad experiences. Short of a woman holding up a sign saying, "idiot, I like you" I'm usually pretty clueless. So the scene I just mentioned to me was fantastic.
If you like musicals and charming movies (with the weird little girl exception) I suspect you will like this one, me I'll stick with the non-musicals for a little while more.
The movie follows St. Louis family during the year before the World's Fair in 1904. The father has decided to move the family to New York and the family is a bit distraught. The older girls are looking for marriage matches and the younger are well I'm not really sure what they are doing. Esther (Judy Garland) is in love with the boy next door and attempts to peak his interest. And yes, occasionally random breaking out into song and dance.
The crazy thing is that two things stuck with me about this film. The first is one of the daughters Tootie (Margaret O'Brien). This little girl is described as rambunctious on the Netflix description but I would have gone with psychotic. In her first introduction she has a long tale about a man who lures kittens into a house and poisons them on and apparently the same guy also beats his wife. And how does her family respond? They laugh. The laugh? What is going on?
She imagines that her dolls get sick with disease and die and then she buries them. And people laugh. Then there was the unforgettable Halloween scene. I must confess I don't know the history of Halloween, it was also just an excuse to get some candy in my day. But apparently in 1903, according to this film, Halloween was a night when children rule in a near anarchic state, starting a bonfire in the middle of the street and hurling chairs and fences into the fire. Then these same kids run up to houses, knock and when answered through flour in the person's face declaring them "dead".
I was exclaiming aloud during this scene "what is going on?" It was like the scene fell right out of Terry Gilliam's imagination. And the whole scene ends with a stunt that seems to have been done in hopes of creating a massacre. And when she reveals what she did, her family just shakes their heads in that "girls will be girls" way. Because apparently little girls are little more than spawns of Satan? I could almost see her as the inspiration for the character Rhoda from The Bad Seed.
Okay enough of the crazy. There was one other scene that I found endearing. Early in the film, Esther attempts to let the poor clueless boy next door know that she likes him. She requests he walk around her house turning off all the lights after a party. He assents presumably understanding her underlying motive but at almost every turn says something or does something that reflects that he just doesn't get it. And the way the scene ends with him like a moron waving goodbye is just too priceless.
I probably like this scene so much because it smacks so truthfully of my own sad experiences. Short of a woman holding up a sign saying, "idiot, I like you" I'm usually pretty clueless. So the scene I just mentioned to me was fantastic.
If you like musicals and charming movies (with the weird little girl exception) I suspect you will like this one, me I'll stick with the non-musicals for a little while more.
Friday, October 12, 2007
%^&*$#$
Nothing has angered me more. Ever. Period. Well at least this week.
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/long_good_friday/news/1679303/
Why!!!!!!!!!! Why!!!!!!!!!!!!! You don't mess with a great movie and you certainly don't let Paul "I'm a complete hack" W.S. "I couldn't direct my way out of a paper bag" Anderson take the helm. I will say no more, because it would just be a long list of obscenities with no noticeable finite verb or sentence structure. I just want to say this is wrong, so so unbelieveably wrong.
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/long_good_friday/news/1679303/
Why!!!!!!!!!! Why!!!!!!!!!!!!! You don't mess with a great movie and you certainly don't let Paul "I'm a complete hack" W.S. "I couldn't direct my way out of a paper bag" Anderson take the helm. I will say no more, because it would just be a long list of obscenities with no noticeable finite verb or sentence structure. I just want to say this is wrong, so so unbelieveably wrong.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Thin Red Line
In the interest of full disclosure and in anticipation of objection, let me just put this out there. "Thin Red Line" is my favorite movie. How can he say that when there is so little he has seen, one might object. Or as my friends used to tease, how many shots of nature can one man have in a film. And I'll respond, I really don't care. No film exhausts me physically like this one. No film resonates for days, weeks, months, years like this film. No single film makes me, when I heard that there were six plus hours of footage shot, think my lord what I wouldn't give to see a six hour rendering of this film. So much left unsaid, so many cameos that aren't even cameos.
I remember when I first saw this film. I worked at the movie theater then, it was a midnight sneak. That is to say the night before it opened we watched the movie to make sure it was built correctly. But really its one of the perks of working at a theater. I'd worked all night, I was desperately tired and it was worth ever exhausting minute. I was back the next day with my friend Brad to watch it again. I own the dvd, I've watched it more than any single movie I have.
What's it about? What's it about you ask? Sweet maria what isn't it about? Its about the Battle of Guadalcanal, its about war, its about humanity, its about the army, its about connection and cruelty. Its about opportunism, its about utopia. Its about so many damn things and every single one of them is fantastic. I guess in the end its about C Company in all its glory and sadness.
We have gentle Staros, company commander worried about his men and Col. Tall worried about his career. Privates galore all worried about life and death, love and sadness. We have Sgt. Welsh a man not quite sure about the world. And principally we have Witt. Witt, like his similarly named predecessor from "From Here To Eternity" is a man I can't even begin to explain. You just have to watch him, here him talk, see the wonder in his face or the determination or the fear.
Since every time I see it, I see something new I can't focus on one thing, although I'll probably keep coming back to Witt. This time I was struck by John Savage, a soldier who snaps from the pressure, he rants and raves and just rocks you to the core. This is what war is capable of. He's utterly fantastic screaming at the top of his lungs about the loss, pleading with God, the army, anyone else that it did not have to be this way.
This experience (movie/film is too weak) has two moments that I consider the best. The best death scene ever. I won't talk about it because that would spoil it, suffice to say when you see it, you'll know. I've seen it a hundred times, maybe more and every time I think to myself "that just happened." An emotional roller coaster that physically exhausts me such that I don't want to do anything after except reflect.
The other is a scene between two soldiers (one of them Witt again). Two soldiers each attempting to enjoy those few moments of quiet, the world without war. One having realized that once cast out of the garden, you can never go back, the other finding a quiet peace in being abandoned of all things. What else can I say?
Welsh and Witt have frequent interaction in this film. Welsh attempting to understand Witt and praying that emptiness will come to him because for all his cold cool manner he is clearly tortured by war. Witt loving C Company as the only family he has and seeing the good in everything especially people. Some of the best dialogue of the film occurs between Witt and Welsh, to which I will leave you with this which out of context can only pale in comparison but in context is incredibly powerful. Witt: Do you ever feel lonely? Welsh: Only around people.
Okay, I can't stand it anymore. I can't do this film justice. Just thinking about it makes my heart glow and make me want to watch it again, like right now. But I've got things I need to do. You just need to watch it if you haven't or re-watch it if you have. And you can holler and scream all you want that I am wrong and you'll never convince me.
I remember when I first saw this film. I worked at the movie theater then, it was a midnight sneak. That is to say the night before it opened we watched the movie to make sure it was built correctly. But really its one of the perks of working at a theater. I'd worked all night, I was desperately tired and it was worth ever exhausting minute. I was back the next day with my friend Brad to watch it again. I own the dvd, I've watched it more than any single movie I have.
What's it about? What's it about you ask? Sweet maria what isn't it about? Its about the Battle of Guadalcanal, its about war, its about humanity, its about the army, its about connection and cruelty. Its about opportunism, its about utopia. Its about so many damn things and every single one of them is fantastic. I guess in the end its about C Company in all its glory and sadness.
We have gentle Staros, company commander worried about his men and Col. Tall worried about his career. Privates galore all worried about life and death, love and sadness. We have Sgt. Welsh a man not quite sure about the world. And principally we have Witt. Witt, like his similarly named predecessor from "From Here To Eternity" is a man I can't even begin to explain. You just have to watch him, here him talk, see the wonder in his face or the determination or the fear.
Since every time I see it, I see something new I can't focus on one thing, although I'll probably keep coming back to Witt. This time I was struck by John Savage, a soldier who snaps from the pressure, he rants and raves and just rocks you to the core. This is what war is capable of. He's utterly fantastic screaming at the top of his lungs about the loss, pleading with God, the army, anyone else that it did not have to be this way.
This experience (movie/film is too weak) has two moments that I consider the best. The best death scene ever. I won't talk about it because that would spoil it, suffice to say when you see it, you'll know. I've seen it a hundred times, maybe more and every time I think to myself "that just happened." An emotional roller coaster that physically exhausts me such that I don't want to do anything after except reflect.
The other is a scene between two soldiers (one of them Witt again). Two soldiers each attempting to enjoy those few moments of quiet, the world without war. One having realized that once cast out of the garden, you can never go back, the other finding a quiet peace in being abandoned of all things. What else can I say?
Welsh and Witt have frequent interaction in this film. Welsh attempting to understand Witt and praying that emptiness will come to him because for all his cold cool manner he is clearly tortured by war. Witt loving C Company as the only family he has and seeing the good in everything especially people. Some of the best dialogue of the film occurs between Witt and Welsh, to which I will leave you with this which out of context can only pale in comparison but in context is incredibly powerful. Witt: Do you ever feel lonely? Welsh: Only around people.
Okay, I can't stand it anymore. I can't do this film justice. Just thinking about it makes my heart glow and make me want to watch it again, like right now. But I've got things I need to do. You just need to watch it if you haven't or re-watch it if you have. And you can holler and scream all you want that I am wrong and you'll never convince me.
Casablanca
Maybe the saddest thing I could reveal, is that in all my life I had never seen "Casablanca." How can anyone call themselves a lover of film and have not seen this movie. I admit its shameful. But I can say finally that I don't have to be ashamed anymore. I probably can't say anything that hasn't been said, I should probably just say if for some shameful reason like me you have never seen it, then drop what you are doing now, find it and watch it. In fact that is all I will say. I can not do it justice and I know every critic has to get his two cents worth in but in this case I'm going to resist. I know its cheap and a cop out but that's just the way its going to be. For now.
Once Upon A Time In The West
I can't let this film go without comment. Although "Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" is nearest and dearest to my heart, this one screams cinematic feast. Three years after one masterpiece, Leone brought us a new story, a bit more nuanced (if the characters aren't quite as interesting in my opinion) they are still incredibly fleshed out. Story: Jill's fresh off the train from New Orleans to meet her new husband. Cheyenne is fresh from a prison break back to lead his gang. Frank is fresh off the kill, ready to do so again. Harmonica is fresh on the hunt to revenge his brother. There is other stuff going on, a railroad coming into town, a greedy money man, and all the tropes of Westerns we know and we love.
The why of this bizarre cinematic love quadrangle is the least of importance. The how is what holds you in your seat. The eery wail of a harmonica introduces us to Harmonica (Charles Bronson). A man who "Instead of talking, he plays. And when he better play, he talks." Harmonica can take it all in stride, he's single minded and patient. Set backs don't bug him and he knows exactly how he wants the revenge to occur and he won't stop before that happens, nor will he allow a hair on his nemesis' head to be harmed before he can do it himself.
Frank (Henry Fonda) is a cold blooded man. He doesn't think twice about killing a child. He does what is advantageous for him. Frank has delusions that he can be more than he is, a business man to replace the railroad baron. But Frank isn't more than a ruthless thug. He has scenes that will just down right creep you out.
Cheyenne (Jason Robards) by contrast is actually quite a decent fellow, for a career criminal. Able to measure a man or woman's character in an instant. Deadly when he has to be, something close to endearing when he wants to be. He speaks dialogue that tells you about the other characters and it never once seems forced. It never once seems false. Cheyenne likes to read people. He likes knowing exactly who he is dealing with.
Robards, Fonda even Bronson all send in performances that you can't forget, for me Robards shines above them all. Just watch and hell re-watch his scenes with Claudia Cardinale. Especially there first scene which ends with such a great reveal I can only quote the dialogue "You know, Jill, you remind me of my mother. She was the biggest whore in Alameda and the finest woman that ever lived. Whoever my father was, for an hour or for a month - he must have been a happy man." He's seen right through Jill. We know something about both of them now, something made more explicit later with Frank.
What else can I say about this movie? Did I mention the dialogue? So fantastically over the top. Just read the stuff I quoted here and in the previous review. Who talks like that? Who cares you revel in its absurdity. And the end, again it can't compete with the end of "The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly" for my money but that isn't to say it isn't utterly fantastic because it is. This is a what a western can be, this is what a western should be.
The why of this bizarre cinematic love quadrangle is the least of importance. The how is what holds you in your seat. The eery wail of a harmonica introduces us to Harmonica (Charles Bronson). A man who "Instead of talking, he plays. And when he better play, he talks." Harmonica can take it all in stride, he's single minded and patient. Set backs don't bug him and he knows exactly how he wants the revenge to occur and he won't stop before that happens, nor will he allow a hair on his nemesis' head to be harmed before he can do it himself.
Frank (Henry Fonda) is a cold blooded man. He doesn't think twice about killing a child. He does what is advantageous for him. Frank has delusions that he can be more than he is, a business man to replace the railroad baron. But Frank isn't more than a ruthless thug. He has scenes that will just down right creep you out.
Cheyenne (Jason Robards) by contrast is actually quite a decent fellow, for a career criminal. Able to measure a man or woman's character in an instant. Deadly when he has to be, something close to endearing when he wants to be. He speaks dialogue that tells you about the other characters and it never once seems forced. It never once seems false. Cheyenne likes to read people. He likes knowing exactly who he is dealing with.
Robards, Fonda even Bronson all send in performances that you can't forget, for me Robards shines above them all. Just watch and hell re-watch his scenes with Claudia Cardinale. Especially there first scene which ends with such a great reveal I can only quote the dialogue "You know, Jill, you remind me of my mother. She was the biggest whore in Alameda and the finest woman that ever lived. Whoever my father was, for an hour or for a month - he must have been a happy man." He's seen right through Jill. We know something about both of them now, something made more explicit later with Frank.
What else can I say about this movie? Did I mention the dialogue? So fantastically over the top. Just read the stuff I quoted here and in the previous review. Who talks like that? Who cares you revel in its absurdity. And the end, again it can't compete with the end of "The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly" for my money but that isn't to say it isn't utterly fantastic because it is. This is a what a western can be, this is what a western should be.
The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly
There is something profoundly satisfying for me when I watch a Sergio Leone film. Why just last night I sat down and watched both "Once Upon A Time In The West" and "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly". I don't know if I need to say this, but that is a six hour commitment. Once Upon A Time In The West is of course fantastic. Grand in scope with a story of revenge. And the dialogue is so crazy and fantastic at the same time.
"The reward for this man is 5000 dollars, is that right?"
Judas was content for 4970 dollars less."
"There were no dollars in them days."
"But sons of bitches... yeah."
or
"So, you found out you're not a businessman after all."
"Just a man."
"An ancient race."
By contrast "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" is almost devoid of dialogue. The story not exactly the most conventional. Yet it is more ambitious than most. What you should probably know: Three men learn about 200,000 dollars worth of gold buried in a cemetery. Each has a key to the puzzle of where and each would prefer if the other two were dead. What you need to know: The Good, Blondie (Clint Eastwood) is relatively good. He doesn't kill without reason and he'll let a man who swears he is going to kill him go out of some sense of nobility. The Bad, Angel Eyes (Lee Van Cleef) is bad, really bad, willing to beat a woman for information, and brutally. Finally The Ugly, Tucco (Eli Wallach) is a loud talking, amoral criminal who never forgets the wrongs done to him.
But I can't stress enough it isn't per se about the story. From the opening cords of a soundtrack that just tells you what you are about to see is epic, we find ourselves immersed in an introduction that lasts 30 minutes. A full one sixth of the movie is just devoted to telling you exactly what kind of men the players are. And from there it meanders its way to the finish line but not in a boring way but in a big scale way.
There are so many things I could talk about with this film. The way people seem to hide in plain sight as Roger Ebert commented, as if the characters on screen are capable of only seeing what is in frame. I could talk about the five minute long three person standoff that is the climax of the film. How Blondie at one point says, "six, the perfect number" and Angel Eyes responds "I thought three was the perfect number". A line that so utterly foreshadows the final showdown that if it wasn't intentional then the gods of movies made it so. I could talk about the ridiculously ambitious Civil War sequence.
But what struck me most last night was Tuco. Perhaps one of the most fabulously richly developed characters ever. It surely must be partly writing, it surely must be partly Mr. Eli Wallach. From his desperate entrance in the opening moments of the film, we see him slovenly, unkempt and holding food in one hand, his freshly fired gun in the other. Tuco is a wanted man, with a long rap sheet (comically listed off in partial at several points).
Tuco has a con going with Blondie, his "friend", if such a man can have friends. Loud mouthed, Tuco doesn't know when to shut up. Always cursing and talking big even on the point of being hanged. Equal parts gutless and unforgiving, warns those who betray him that they better make sure he is dead. Tuco is always on, so much so that you might start to dislike him. You might think, he's too much. Then midway through the film we are introduced to a scene you don't really see coming.
A scene in a monastery with his brother. Taking everything in stride, the confrontation with his brother is the most revealing of scenes. A sad reality settles on you. Tuco is who he is for a reason. Tuco had to survive, always to survive and Tuco learned a cold truth. You just can't trust anyone. Blondie witnesses this whole scene silently. After this, as Tuco and Blondie leave, Tuco can't help but comment.
He lets Blondie know how good a brother he has. How truly blessed he is. Blondie accepts this lie despite having witnessed the confessional. And then Tuco is back, veil once again up, vulnerability gone. And yet you can't help but think about everything up to this point and you can't help but go back to this scene in the future. You can't help but think, my oh my, Blondie really is the only friend Tuco has, and how sad and unsettling that is.
This film is often considered the third in the "Man With No Name" trilogy (A Fistful of Dollars and For A Few Dollars More being the first two). But to me this film is about Tuco, not Blondie. And if it had nothing else (and by no means does it, for it has a plethora) it would be worth it just for that.
"The reward for this man is 5000 dollars, is that right?"
Judas was content for 4970 dollars less."
"There were no dollars in them days."
"But sons of bitches... yeah."
or
"So, you found out you're not a businessman after all."
"Just a man."
"An ancient race."
By contrast "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" is almost devoid of dialogue. The story not exactly the most conventional. Yet it is more ambitious than most. What you should probably know: Three men learn about 200,000 dollars worth of gold buried in a cemetery. Each has a key to the puzzle of where and each would prefer if the other two were dead. What you need to know: The Good, Blondie (Clint Eastwood) is relatively good. He doesn't kill without reason and he'll let a man who swears he is going to kill him go out of some sense of nobility. The Bad, Angel Eyes (Lee Van Cleef) is bad, really bad, willing to beat a woman for information, and brutally. Finally The Ugly, Tucco (Eli Wallach) is a loud talking, amoral criminal who never forgets the wrongs done to him.
But I can't stress enough it isn't per se about the story. From the opening cords of a soundtrack that just tells you what you are about to see is epic, we find ourselves immersed in an introduction that lasts 30 minutes. A full one sixth of the movie is just devoted to telling you exactly what kind of men the players are. And from there it meanders its way to the finish line but not in a boring way but in a big scale way.
There are so many things I could talk about with this film. The way people seem to hide in plain sight as Roger Ebert commented, as if the characters on screen are capable of only seeing what is in frame. I could talk about the five minute long three person standoff that is the climax of the film. How Blondie at one point says, "six, the perfect number" and Angel Eyes responds "I thought three was the perfect number". A line that so utterly foreshadows the final showdown that if it wasn't intentional then the gods of movies made it so. I could talk about the ridiculously ambitious Civil War sequence.
But what struck me most last night was Tuco. Perhaps one of the most fabulously richly developed characters ever. It surely must be partly writing, it surely must be partly Mr. Eli Wallach. From his desperate entrance in the opening moments of the film, we see him slovenly, unkempt and holding food in one hand, his freshly fired gun in the other. Tuco is a wanted man, with a long rap sheet (comically listed off in partial at several points).
Tuco has a con going with Blondie, his "friend", if such a man can have friends. Loud mouthed, Tuco doesn't know when to shut up. Always cursing and talking big even on the point of being hanged. Equal parts gutless and unforgiving, warns those who betray him that they better make sure he is dead. Tuco is always on, so much so that you might start to dislike him. You might think, he's too much. Then midway through the film we are introduced to a scene you don't really see coming.
A scene in a monastery with his brother. Taking everything in stride, the confrontation with his brother is the most revealing of scenes. A sad reality settles on you. Tuco is who he is for a reason. Tuco had to survive, always to survive and Tuco learned a cold truth. You just can't trust anyone. Blondie witnesses this whole scene silently. After this, as Tuco and Blondie leave, Tuco can't help but comment.
He lets Blondie know how good a brother he has. How truly blessed he is. Blondie accepts this lie despite having witnessed the confessional. And then Tuco is back, veil once again up, vulnerability gone. And yet you can't help but think about everything up to this point and you can't help but go back to this scene in the future. You can't help but think, my oh my, Blondie really is the only friend Tuco has, and how sad and unsettling that is.
This film is often considered the third in the "Man With No Name" trilogy (A Fistful of Dollars and For A Few Dollars More being the first two). But to me this film is about Tuco, not Blondie. And if it had nothing else (and by no means does it, for it has a plethora) it would be worth it just for that.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Across The Universe
First confession: I'm not a fan of musicals. Its just a bit too bizarre having people express how they feel in song. To quote the Robot Devil from Futurama "
Friday, October 05, 2007
In The Valley Of Elah
Forgive me if this seems a little incoherent, you see it turns out when you watch In the Valley of Elah, Paul Haggis actually sneaks up behind you with a tack hammer and pounds your skull repeatedly screaming at the top of his lungs, "do you get it? the Iraq war is evil, evil I say, America is in trouble, we must rescue it". Still, if I had been able to get my senses back fast enough I probably would have asked for an autograph. Now whether Mr. Haggis is write about Iraq maybe right, but what it is with regards to this movie is really completely irrelevant.
Hank Deerfield (Tommy Lee Jones) gets a call one day that his son is AWOL. Hank wasn't even aware that his son was home. Hank sets out to his son's base to find him. Soon the missing person becomes a murder victim and Hank, a former MP can't restrain himself from finding out exactly what happened. He is assisted (or is he assisting her?) by local detective Emily Sanders (Charlize Theron). They slowly piece together what happened while Hank becomes disillusioned by the army, Iraq and just about everything else.
Now the reason I say Iraq is completely irrelevant is because this movie could just as easily have been set in the Vietnam era or any war really. Its about PTSD, not war. Or at least it should be and would have been if a more subtle director had been at the helm. That being said, Tommy Lee Jones knocks his performance out of the park. From his stoic army trained lifestyle that has him neatly making his hotel room bed each morning to his pained by almost passionless reaction to his own son's dead body.
Despite Haggis' heavy hand, I felt the movie was pretty effective and anchored by Jones performing like crazy. I'm the first to raise holy hell that Jones won an academy award over Ralph Fiennes many years back but maybe I should give him another chance because he has wowed me twice now, here and in Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. Sadly the film just doesn't seem to know when it should end, or rather Haggis doesn't seem to know when it should end.
Hank Deerfield (Tommy Lee Jones) gets a call one day that his son is AWOL. Hank wasn't even aware that his son was home. Hank sets out to his son's base to find him. Soon the missing person becomes a murder victim and Hank, a former MP can't restrain himself from finding out exactly what happened. He is assisted (or is he assisting her?) by local detective Emily Sanders (Charlize Theron). They slowly piece together what happened while Hank becomes disillusioned by the army, Iraq and just about everything else.
Now the reason I say Iraq is completely irrelevant is because this movie could just as easily have been set in the Vietnam era or any war really. Its about PTSD, not war. Or at least it should be and would have been if a more subtle director had been at the helm. That being said, Tommy Lee Jones knocks his performance out of the park. From his stoic army trained lifestyle that has him neatly making his hotel room bed each morning to his pained by almost passionless reaction to his own son's dead body.
Despite Haggis' heavy hand, I felt the movie was pretty effective and anchored by Jones performing like crazy. I'm the first to raise holy hell that Jones won an academy award over Ralph Fiennes many years back but maybe I should give him another chance because he has wowed me twice now, here and in Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. Sadly the film just doesn't seem to know when it should end, or rather Haggis doesn't seem to know when it should end.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
The Road Warrior
When the narrator kicks in at the beginning of The Road Warrior you get an immediate sense of what is about to come. He tells a story of a war between two great tribes and the devastating effects on civilization. Fuel has become very scarce. Mad Max gave us an insight into a declining world, one in which a handful of cops hold out against an ever increasing hoard of gangs. When a gang kills and maims those who are important to Max, we get a high octane revenge film. The Road Warrior is in a more explicit world, defined by real life escalation of the Cold War and seems to have taken notions of the 70s Oil Crisis to heart.
Where the world was in decline, we now enter a world that has fully collapsed. A group of decent people still clinging to their humanity is defending an oil pumping station. They are besieged by the truly monstrous The Humongous, a bulking, lumbering villain with a raspy commanding voice and the hint of radiation exposure. Into this world comes Max, a loner, still coping with his loss and the new world. Max has become an opportunist stealing gas when he has to and willing to rescue a man only on condition that he can get some gas. Max however is not built to wander. He is built for a cause, he just needs to be reminded of that.
By films end, Max makes the sacrifice for the people he meets which results in the spectacular 13 minute chase sequence. As the film fades out with the hopes of the survivors, Max is left like a Moses who can get you to the promise land but cannot enter himself. But that is okay, we get the sense that this is who Max is. Max the legend, the epic hero. And we know that this is just one story. In The Road Warrior we get an action film done right. No CGI but real effects. A story you can care about, its a bare bones story but it has a clear sense of what it is, one story in an epic cycle.
Where the world was in decline, we now enter a world that has fully collapsed. A group of decent people still clinging to their humanity is defending an oil pumping station. They are besieged by the truly monstrous The Humongous, a bulking, lumbering villain with a raspy commanding voice and the hint of radiation exposure. Into this world comes Max, a loner, still coping with his loss and the new world. Max has become an opportunist stealing gas when he has to and willing to rescue a man only on condition that he can get some gas. Max however is not built to wander. He is built for a cause, he just needs to be reminded of that.
By films end, Max makes the sacrifice for the people he meets which results in the spectacular 13 minute chase sequence. As the film fades out with the hopes of the survivors, Max is left like a Moses who can get you to the promise land but cannot enter himself. But that is okay, we get the sense that this is who Max is. Max the legend, the epic hero. And we know that this is just one story. In The Road Warrior we get an action film done right. No CGI but real effects. A story you can care about, its a bare bones story but it has a clear sense of what it is, one story in an epic cycle.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
The Long Good Friday
If The Long Good Friday had nothing in it that worked, it would still have its ending which works so damn well that you are in awe. Fortunately it has so much in it that works which makes said ending that much more fantastic. It was directed by John Mackenzie and stars Bob Hoskins and Helen Mirren. And Hoskins and Mirren are in top form. This is an old school British gangster film with a synth based soundtrack that you expect from a 70s film. And in no particular order it is in the top ten of my favorite films.
Hoskins plays Harold, a British gangster who rules London. His gangster moll is (Helen Mirren). Hoskins is working up a deal with the American Mafia to develop an area of London in anticipation of the 1988 Olympics. On Good Friday the Americans arrive in town at the same time as someone starts killing Harold's men and blowing up his businesses. Hoskins has only a short window to fix this problem before the Americans abandon the deal. I'll leave to the viewer to discover what went wrong, who is responsible for the deaths and oh the ending.
This is Hoskins at his best. Harold is a blue collar criminal with ideas of greater things. Its clear that he got to the top by being brutal and then brokering a deal to keep the peace. He has politicians and cops in his pocket and clearly has a handle on logistics of being a mobster but always lurking under the surface is that angry and bolstering street tough. Mirren matches him perfectly. She isn't simply a beautiful face but a fully realized smart, tough woman. She has no difficulty giving orders to Harold's men and she adds a bit of charm and class that Harold is ultimately incapable of pulling off.
Watching Hoskins unravel as he discovers what is happening is fascinating. More than willing to have his old rivals be bound and hung upside down on meat hooks, he has no fear of consequences. He is top dog. When Harold does determine what has happened and who is responsible he does something that you know is stupid, his men know is stupid, deep down maybe even Harold knows it is stupid but he can't accept that he isn't in charge. That he isn't the man to fear.
The end is two fold, which is not to say that it ends then ends again but rather it has two parts to it which work so fantastically. To be fair I shouldn't spoil it because its just too good to be ruined by my inadequacy to describe it. I'll just say that it shows Hoskins ranging from the height of arrogance and smugness to the lows of humility and self realization. Oh and about two minutes of Hoskins just looking at the camera, his face distorting in a variety of ways as he goes through his emotions, like the five steps of grief.
Hoskins plays Harold, a British gangster who rules London. His gangster moll is (Helen Mirren). Hoskins is working up a deal with the American Mafia to develop an area of London in anticipation of the 1988 Olympics. On Good Friday the Americans arrive in town at the same time as someone starts killing Harold's men and blowing up his businesses. Hoskins has only a short window to fix this problem before the Americans abandon the deal. I'll leave to the viewer to discover what went wrong, who is responsible for the deaths and oh the ending.
This is Hoskins at his best. Harold is a blue collar criminal with ideas of greater things. Its clear that he got to the top by being brutal and then brokering a deal to keep the peace. He has politicians and cops in his pocket and clearly has a handle on logistics of being a mobster but always lurking under the surface is that angry and bolstering street tough. Mirren matches him perfectly. She isn't simply a beautiful face but a fully realized smart, tough woman. She has no difficulty giving orders to Harold's men and she adds a bit of charm and class that Harold is ultimately incapable of pulling off.
Watching Hoskins unravel as he discovers what is happening is fascinating. More than willing to have his old rivals be bound and hung upside down on meat hooks, he has no fear of consequences. He is top dog. When Harold does determine what has happened and who is responsible he does something that you know is stupid, his men know is stupid, deep down maybe even Harold knows it is stupid but he can't accept that he isn't in charge. That he isn't the man to fear.
The end is two fold, which is not to say that it ends then ends again but rather it has two parts to it which work so fantastically. To be fair I shouldn't spoil it because its just too good to be ruined by my inadequacy to describe it. I'll just say that it shows Hoskins ranging from the height of arrogance and smugness to the lows of humility and self realization. Oh and about two minutes of Hoskins just looking at the camera, his face distorting in a variety of ways as he goes through his emotions, like the five steps of grief.
Monday, October 01, 2007
The Wind That Shakes The Barley
I've known about this movie for over a year. I've read a few reviews. Heck my own parents saw this thing (because they happened to venture to Ireland and see it there). Meanwhile I've been waiting patiently for it to come to the theater (it never did) and then patiently for it to come to dvd. It now has and I have now seen it. So now I can finally have an opinion on it.
The film is set in 1920 Ireland. This is a few years after the famous 1916 Easter Rebellion that was brutally crushed by the British and its leaders executed. The IRA in its original form fought a guerrilla campaign against the British occupiers, called Black and Tans for their uniforms. They were pretty notorious for their treatment of Irishmen and women. After such a mistreatment, Damien, previously believing that turning to violence would serve no purpose becomes militant towards the British. The film follows Damien and his brother Teddy as the fight against the British leading up to the truce which led to the establishment of the Irish Free State. Damien becomes a radical much more than his brother and in the end does not accept the treaty as enough, while Teddy becomes a Free Stater.
Truth be told, this film covered a lot of ground I was already pretty familiar with (albeit in a fictitious story). There is a half hearted attempt to humanize at least one of the British soldiers but it doesn't feel like Ken Loach was really committed to selling that point of view. In terms of story, it doesn't really matter if all British troops in Ireland were committing crimes and terrorizing citizens (and there is plenty of evidence, anecdote and belief that the majority of them were). It only matters that a select group was doing such and that it influenced Damien's decision to fight.
Beyond its novelty as a story, it isn't all that interesting. It plays on the same themes of war and violence and terrorism/freedom fighting as well as brother against brother civil war. Cillian Murphy as Damien is quite good especially in scenes that create the most tension, such as one in which he must execute a traitor. Actors stumble over their lines at time which made me wonder if it was intentional (that is the idea of incoherent expression of thought) or if it was just that he didn't have enough money to be doing multiple takes.
In the end it just feels like there is a bigger and more interesting story to told. Not that it wasn't well done, just that is wasn't very memorable for me.
The film is set in 1920 Ireland. This is a few years after the famous 1916 Easter Rebellion that was brutally crushed by the British and its leaders executed. The IRA in its original form fought a guerrilla campaign against the British occupiers, called Black and Tans for their uniforms. They were pretty notorious for their treatment of Irishmen and women. After such a mistreatment, Damien, previously believing that turning to violence would serve no purpose becomes militant towards the British. The film follows Damien and his brother Teddy as the fight against the British leading up to the truce which led to the establishment of the Irish Free State. Damien becomes a radical much more than his brother and in the end does not accept the treaty as enough, while Teddy becomes a Free Stater.
Truth be told, this film covered a lot of ground I was already pretty familiar with (albeit in a fictitious story). There is a half hearted attempt to humanize at least one of the British soldiers but it doesn't feel like Ken Loach was really committed to selling that point of view. In terms of story, it doesn't really matter if all British troops in Ireland were committing crimes and terrorizing citizens (and there is plenty of evidence, anecdote and belief that the majority of them were). It only matters that a select group was doing such and that it influenced Damien's decision to fight.
Beyond its novelty as a story, it isn't all that interesting. It plays on the same themes of war and violence and terrorism/freedom fighting as well as brother against brother civil war. Cillian Murphy as Damien is quite good especially in scenes that create the most tension, such as one in which he must execute a traitor. Actors stumble over their lines at time which made me wonder if it was intentional (that is the idea of incoherent expression of thought) or if it was just that he didn't have enough money to be doing multiple takes.
In the end it just feels like there is a bigger and more interesting story to told. Not that it wasn't well done, just that is wasn't very memorable for me.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Resident Evil: Extinction
There was something genuinely fun about the first Resident Evil movie. Paul W.S. Anderson was at the helm and doing what he does best make really mediocre movies. But the combination of Milla Jovavich and crack team of special forces going into a zombie filled den of evil was basically the culmination of my dreams as an 8 year old obsessed with monsters and badass special forces units. So sure a part of me realizes it wasn't the best executed of films and part of me is giggling with joy. Now Resident Evil: Apocalypse was pretty close to what I had expect of Resident Evil. Ludicrous, over the top, and Oded Fehr. I was pretty sure the series had peaked. A third film could not be nearly as bad as the second, it just wasn't possible.
Oh how wrong I was. Resident Evil: Extinction picks up apparently five years or so after the previous film. The T-Virus (that would be the zombie virus for lay people) has spread throughout the world and apparently also killed most plant life. A convoy of trucks led by Ali Larter and Oded Fehr is moving across country scavenging abandoned towns for canned food and gasoline ever wary of the zombie threat. Alice (Milla Jovavich) travels on her own, aware that the evil Umbrella Corporation (still one of the greatest names for a huge EVIL conglomerate I have ever come across) can track her if she stays put too long. Meanwhile a scientist is doing experiments on Alice clones as well as working on a injection that will make the zombies docile but instead makes them stronger and more aggressive. Eventually the scientist makes his play for Alice while she aids the convoy in getting to safety along the backdrop of the southwest and Vegas.
Yeah, the film is as ridiculous as that. Its also poorly acted and poorly written and in general the film just makes almost no sense. That being said, I did laugh. Alot. Not that the filmmakers intended for the viewer to laugh or likely were the other viewers in the theater happy that I was laughing. It was just so ludicrously bad I couldn't help but laugh. The whole philosophy of these films seems to be bigger is better. And why does every film have to end with the lead in to a new film that hasn't been made yet? It is my least favorite thing to do in a film. Still, it did kill an afternoon and it gave me some justifiable vitriol. Even zombie fans should probably stay away.
Oh how wrong I was. Resident Evil: Extinction picks up apparently five years or so after the previous film. The T-Virus (that would be the zombie virus for lay people) has spread throughout the world and apparently also killed most plant life. A convoy of trucks led by Ali Larter and Oded Fehr is moving across country scavenging abandoned towns for canned food and gasoline ever wary of the zombie threat. Alice (Milla Jovavich) travels on her own, aware that the evil Umbrella Corporation (still one of the greatest names for a huge EVIL conglomerate I have ever come across) can track her if she stays put too long. Meanwhile a scientist is doing experiments on Alice clones as well as working on a injection that will make the zombies docile but instead makes them stronger and more aggressive. Eventually the scientist makes his play for Alice while she aids the convoy in getting to safety along the backdrop of the southwest and Vegas.
Yeah, the film is as ridiculous as that. Its also poorly acted and poorly written and in general the film just makes almost no sense. That being said, I did laugh. Alot. Not that the filmmakers intended for the viewer to laugh or likely were the other viewers in the theater happy that I was laughing. It was just so ludicrously bad I couldn't help but laugh. The whole philosophy of these films seems to be bigger is better. And why does every film have to end with the lead in to a new film that hasn't been made yet? It is my least favorite thing to do in a film. Still, it did kill an afternoon and it gave me some justifiable vitriol. Even zombie fans should probably stay away.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)