list http://www.spout.com/ Recent community activity around Out of Africa on Spout Copyright 2005-9 Spout, LLC Spout RSS http://www.spout.com/images/SpoutLogoRSS.jpg http://www.spout.com/ 136 30 http://www.spout.com/films/Out_of_Africa/25803/default.aspx Title: Out of Africa
Year: 1985
Director: Sydney Pollack
Plot: Out of Africa is drawn from the life and writings of Danish author Isak Dinesen, who during the time that the film's events occured was known by her married name, Karen Blixen-Flecke. For convenience's sake, Karen (Meryl Streep) has married Baron Bor Blixen-Flecke (Klaus Maria Brandauer). In 1914, the Baron moves himself and his wife to a plantation in Nairobi, then leaves Karen to her own devices as he returns to his womanizing and drinking. Soon, Karen has fallen in love with charming white hunter Denys Finch Hatton (Robert Redford), who prefers a no-strings relationship. A woman who prides herself on her independence, Blixen finds herself unhappily in thrall to a aloof man -- and doubly unhappy for living out such a cliché situation. Although Redford received a lion's share of criticism for his too-American performance, Streep has rarely been better, and the film's perfectly measured pace is offset by David Watkin's stunning location photography. The movie was nominated for 11 Academy Awards and won 7, including Best Picture, Best Director for Sydney Pollack, Best Adapted Screenplay for Kurt Luedtke, and Best Cinematography for Watkin. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide
Times Tagged: 11
Number of Lists: 18
Number of blog posts: 5
Number of discussion threads: 2
SpoutRating: 3
]]>Wed, 01 Jul 2009 20:26:12 GMTOut of Africa1985Sydney PollackOut of Africa is drawn from the life and writings of Danish author Isak Dinesen, who during the time that the film's events occured was known by her married name, Karen Blixen-Flecke. For convenience's sake, Karen (<a href="/players/P____68676/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Meryl Streep</a>) has married Baron Bor Blixen-Flecke (<a href="/players/P____82796/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Klaus Maria Brandauer</a>). In 1914, the Baron moves himself and his wife to a plantation in Nairobi, then leaves Karen to her own devices as he returns to his womanizing and drinking. Soon, Karen has fallen in love with charming white hunter Denys Finch Hatton (<a href="/players/P___107758/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Robert Redford</a>), who prefers a no-strings relationship. A woman who prides herself on her independence, Blixen finds herself unhappily in thrall to a aloof man -- and doubly unhappy for living out such a cliché situation. Although Redford received a lion's share of criticism for his too-American performance, Streep has rarely been better, and the film's perfectly measured pace is offset by <a href="/players/P___116072/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>David Watkin</a>'s stunning location photography. The movie was nominated for 11 Academy Awards and won 7, including Best Picture, Best Director for <a href="/players/P___106775/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Sydney Pollack</a>, Best Adapted Screenplay for Kurt Luedtke, and Best Cinematography for Watkin. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide11Tag Target (>10)18523http://www.spout.com/ProductImages/t51994ri10r.jpghttp://www.spout.com/films/Out_of_Africa/25803/default.aspxFilm http://www.spout.com/blogs/pippin06/archive/2009/10/3/44108.aspx Post By: pippin06
Post To: Reel Thoughts
Post Date: 10/3/2009 2:12:29 PM
Body: What's the AFI Project, you ask? For more information, or if you just enjoy my bemused ramblings, read here:http://www.spout.com/blogs/pippin06/archive/2008/3/1/25756.aspx Out of Africa is on the following AFI lists: 100 Years...100 Passions (#13)25 Film Scores (#15) This film also represents the third of nine Oscar-nominated dramas topping my Netflix queue, just in case you were keeping track. Out of Africa is one of those movies that I've heard about ever since its release in the mid-80s but never paid much attention to; after all, I was a child at the time and much more mesmerized by contemporary films like Back to the Future. Still, as I've gained years of age, I've also gained a growing appreciation for one of my favorite actresses, Meryl Streep, and I've made it something of a mission to cover more of her filmography. Thus, when Netflix was making its convenient recommendations to me, I popped Out of Africa on my queue. As it turns out, Out of Africa is based on the writings and short stories of Danish author Isak Dinesen, the pen name of Karen Blixen-Flecke. The film begins in the early 20th century, as Karen proposes to her friend, Baron Bor Blixen-Flecke (Klaus Maria Brandauer), that they tie the knot absent other better offers. Bor agrees but cautions that he has plans to purchase a plantation in Africa. Karen marries him with this understanding, and the two set out for Nairobi; however, upon arrival, Bor immediately leaves Karen for alleged business only to return to his womanizing ways, while Karen finds herself the governess of a plantation for coffee that cannot feasibly be grown in the arid African air. She spends her days teaching the local villagers employed (enslaved?) on her plantation in a school she sets up for them and hosting visitors, including a charming and educated hunter named Denys Finch-Hatton (Robert Redford, who is supposed to be British). The pair's natural chemistry simmers into love, but Denys wants a no-strings, open relationship. While Karen is typically independent and self-sufficient, she also finds that she has become unhappily dedicated to an aloof man who feels deeply but places a higher priority on his freedom to come and go. Karen must, thus, decide how to handle this relationship, lest she lose Denys completely. Directed by Sydney Pollack, Out of Africa is a visually striking and beautiful film. The cinematography and photography (which won one of seven Oscars), best appreciated in a widescreen presentation, is truly captivating, using the natural wilderness as a springboard for creating a romance of epic quality. In fact, this is one of the three most winning qualities of this film: the fact that it's simply beautiful to see, and that Pollack and company capitalized on the sunny climate and on-location extras, such as lions, to truly drive home the strangeness and surreality of Karen's particular situation. The second winning quality is the beautiful score by John Barry, which the AFI saw fit to rank as one the 25 best American film scores in history. The rich and epic string-heavy themes are noticeable from the first frames and the first notes; it's one of those scores that could stand on its own, played by a large symphony as a purely instrumental presentation, but also delicately dramatizes the unfolding romance. The final winning quality is the performance of Meryl Streep who, let's face it, has the ability to make any film better for having her in it. She's given so many otherworldly performances, and the reason Out of Africa is half as likeable as it is comes down to Meryl's uncanny and unmatched ability to completely become her character. Given everything from her consistent and realistic Danish accent to her facial instructions depicting a strong and principled woman who finds herself emotionally susceptible to an unpredictable romance, it's hard to argue that she's given a better performance (or, perhaps, all of her performances are simply great). Without her, Out of Africa would simply have become a long, boring film with no heart, soul, or feeling. Of course, conversely, Out of Africa was still largely a long, boring movie. For all of its winning qualities, it also has some elements which truly detracted from the film and prevented me from loving it. The sheer protracted nature of the story is its primary stumbling point; at nearly three hours' length, painstakingly recreating Dinesen's memoirs translated into a plodding biographical film. While I typically find myself a proponent of an accurate adaptation, this film would probably have benefitted from some artistic editing because Karen's story is not sympathetic unless completely zeroed in on the tensions between her real-life husband and her real-life paramour. The occasional diversions into Karen's life, while designed to create sympathy for what becomes an adulterous love affair, served to drag out the film and were not necessarily engaging, which, in turn, made the actual romance of the film less engaging. The second element that made Out of Africa awkwardly less than adored was the casting of Robert Redford. He's an amazing actor, and he had some chemistry with Streep, no doubt attributable to an off-set friendship that provided a certain level of ease and comfort between the two leads. Unfortunately, his presence almost always felt out-of-place. Also, the character he was playing was supposed to be British, and while the page notes that criticism of the film centered on the fact that Redford was - and played - too American, it's not an unfounded criticism. His cowboy-like demeanor, reminiscient of his performance in The Electric Horseman, didn't seem to fit the rest of the picture. Also, the actual chemistry was limited at best; the AFI rated this film high on its love stories list, but, for me, it left something to be desired because I did not necessarily believe the romance between Karen and Denys and never actually cared about it, at least not until the surprise ending, and then, the concern came more from tragedy than from any attachment to the romance. All in all, Out of Africa was a decent film; it won many Oscars, was beautifully shot, and was a great performance showcase for Meryl Streep, but it was not the most entertaining film. Interestingly, the other four nominees for Best Picture in 1985 were The Color Purple, Kiss of the Spider Woman, Prizzi's Honor, and Witness, so 1985 was quite a year, and I've seen two of those other films and enjoyed them more than this one. I suppose that's neither here nor there, but, as a result, I find myself wanting to rate Out of Africa a 7 for being shaky but entertaining, and the entertaining quality I'm ascribing solely to Meryl Streep. If someone less apt had been in the role, this film would have been an epic disaster in my mind, beautiful photography or no. As to the test, I can safely say it does not pass, for the simple fact that it took me a couple of tries to get through it a first time. If you enjoy a protracted, smoldering love story with few distractions in the historical backdrop, Out of Africa is for you. As for me, again, I find myself thinking that films like Gone with the Wind or even Doctor Zhivago are better films, have more interesting background stories, and set the standard higher and first, which Out of Africa did not quite meet.
]]>Sat, 03 Oct 2009 18:12:29 GMTpippin06Reel Thoughts10/3/2009 2:12:29 PM What's the AFI Project, you ask? For more information, or if you just enjoy my bemused ramblings, read here:http://www.spout.com/blogs/pippin06/archive/2008/3/1/25756.aspx Out of Africa is on the following AFI lists: 100 Years...100 Passions (#13)25 Film Scores (#15) This film also represents the third of nine Oscar-nominated dramas topping my Netflix queue, just in case you were keeping track. Out of Africa is one of those movies that I've heard about ever since its release in the mid-80s but never paid much attention to; after all, I was a child at the time and much more mesmerized by contemporary films like Back to the Future. Still, as I've gained years of age, I've also gained a growing appreciation for one of my favorite actresses, Meryl Streep, and I've made it something of a mission to cover more of her filmography. Thus, when Netflix was making its convenient recommendations to me, I popped Out of Africa on my queue. As it turns out, Out of Africa is based on the writings and short stories of Danish author Isak Dinesen, the pen name of Karen Blixen-Flecke. The film begins in the early 20th century, as Karen proposes to her friend, Baron Bor Blixen-Flecke (Klaus Maria Brandauer), that they tie the knot absent other better offers. Bor agrees but cautions that he has plans to purchase a plantation in Africa. Karen marries him with this understanding, and the two set out for Nairobi; however, upon arrival, Bor immediately leaves Karen for alleged business only to return to his womanizing ways, while Karen finds herself the governess of a plantation for coffee that cannot feasibly be grown in the arid African air. She spends her days teaching the local villagers employed (enslaved?) on her plantation in a school she sets up for them and hosting visitors, including a charming and educated hunter named Denys Finch-Hatton (Robert Redford, who is supposed to be British). The pair's natural chemistry simmers into love, but Denys wants a no-strings, open relationship. While Karen is typically independent and self-sufficient, she also finds that she has become unhappily dedicated to an aloof man who feels deeply but places a higher priority on his freedom to come and go. Karen must, thus, decide how to handle this relationship, lest she lose Denys completely. Directed by Sydney Pollack, Out of Africa is a visually striking and beautiful film. The cinematography and photography (which won one of seven Oscars), best appreciated in a widescreen presentation, is truly captivating, using the natural wilderness as a springboard for creating a romance of epic quality. In fact, this is one of the three most winning qualities of this film: the fact that it's simply beautiful to see, and that Pollack and company capitalized on the sunny climate and on-location extras, such as lions, to truly drive home the strangeness and surreality of Karen's particular situation. The second winning quality is the beautiful score by John Barry, which the AFI saw fit to rank as one the 25 best American film scores in history. The rich and epic string-heavy themes are noticeable from the first frames and the first notes; it's one of those scores that could stand on its own, played by a large symphony as a purely instrumental presentation, but also delicately dramatizes the unfolding romance. The final winning quality is the performance of Meryl Streep who, let's face it, has the ability to make any film better for having her in it. She's given so many otherworldly performances, and the reason Out of Africa is half as likeable as it is comes down to Meryl's uncanny and unmatched ability to completely become her character. Given everything from her consistent and realistic Danish accent to her facial instructions depicting a strong and principled woman who finds herself emotionally susceptible to an unpredictable romance, it's hard to argue that she's given a better performance (or, perhaps, all of her performances are simply great). Without her, Out of Africa would simply have become a long, boring film with no heart, soul, or feeling. Of course, conversely, Out of Africa was still largely a long, boring movie. For all of its winning qualities, it also has some elements which truly detracted from the film and prevented me from loving it. The sheer protracted nature of the story is its primary stumbling point; at nearly three hours' length, painstakingly recreating Dinesen's memoirs translated into a plodding biographical film. While I typically find myself a proponent of an accurate adaptation, this film would probably have benefitted from some artistic editing because Karen's story is not sympathetic unless completely zeroed in on the tensions between her real-life husband and her real-life paramour. The occasional diversions into Karen's life, while designed to create sympathy for what becomes an adulterous love affair, served to drag out the film and were not necessarily engaging, which, in turn, made the actual romance of the film less engaging. The second element that made Out of Africa awkwardly less than adored was the casting of Robert Redford. He's an amazing actor, and he had some chemistry with Streep, no doubt attributable to an off-set friendship that provided a certain level of ease and comfort between the two leads. Unfortunately, his presence almost always felt out-of-place. Also, the character he was playing was supposed to be British, and while the page notes that criticism of the film centered on the fact that Redford was - and played - too American, it's not an unfounded criticism. His cowboy-like demeanor, reminiscient of his performance in The Electric Horseman, didn't seem to fit the rest of the picture. Also, the actual chemistry was limited at best; the AFI rated this film high on its love stories list, but, for me, it left something to be desired because I did not necessarily believe the romance between Karen and Denys and never actually cared about it, at least not until the surprise ending, and then, the concern came more from tragedy than from any attachment to the romance. All in all, Out of Africa was a decent film; it won many Oscars, was beautifully shot, and was a great performance showcase for Meryl Streep, but it was not the most entertaining film. Interestingly, the other four nominees for Best Picture in 1985 were The Color Purple, Kiss of the Spider Woman, Prizzi's Honor, and Witness, so 1985 was quite a year, and I've seen two of those other films and enjoyed them more than this one. I suppose that's neither here nor there, but, as a result, I find myself wanting to rate Out of Africa a 7 for being shaky but entertaining, and the entertaining quality I'm ascribing solely to Meryl Streep. If someone less apt had been in the role, this film would have been an epic disaster in my mind, beautiful photography or no. As to the test, I can safely say it does not pass, for the simple fact that it took me a couple of tries to get through it a first time. If you enjoy a protracted, smoldering love story with few distractions in the historical backdrop, Out of Africa is for you. As for me, again, I find myself thinking that films like Gone with the Wind or even Doctor Zhivago are better films, have more interesting background stories, and set the standard higher and first, which Out of Africa did not quite meet. http://www.spout.com/blogs/spoutblog/archive/2009/3/10/40945.aspx Post By: SpoutBlog
Post To: SpoutBlog on spout.com
Post Date: 3/10/2009 6:01:08 PM
Body: If you buy the kids only one new video release this week, make it Pinocchio. Obviously. But if you have enough spending money to buy two, pick up Howard the Duck as well. Finally on DVD in America (with a Special Edition no less), the infamous flop is anything but a great film. Yet it is hardly one of the worst films of the 1980s, despite its reputation. For the past 23 years, I’ve stood by my childhood love for Howard the Duck, constantly acknowledging that I even owned Ellis Weiner’s novelization of the film. Technically, the best reason to defend the movie’s existence is that it directly led to the creation of Pixar. But this reason doesn’t influence anyone to watch the thing. So, in order to defend the movie’s onscreen worth, I’ve come up with ten points for why you should pick up the new Howard the Duck disc and not feel at all guilty about doing so. 1. It’s No Longer the Worst Lucasfilm Production Take your pick — there’s The Phantom Menace or there’s Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, either of which could certainly take the prize for being the worst movie to come from George Lucas in his 40 years producing films. Well, maybe not worse than More American Graffiti. But both films were far bigger creative and franchise disappointments than Howard the Duck (financial success is another story, of course), and so they have a relative sort of wretchedness that places them in the bottom of Lucas’ Sarlacc pit of a career. Even if you’re one of those defend-to-the-end Star Wars fanboys who will argue the pros of Menace, at least then consider Willow to be worse than Howard the Duck. The blatant Lord of the Rings rip-off has its historical relevance, but looking back on it now, it’s even more dated than Howard. And regardless of how groundbreaking it was, Willow’s visual effects don’t hold up quite as well as Howard’s old-fashioned, and oft-celebrated craftsmanship. But that’s another point… 2.  The Special Effects Are Technically Brilliant Those of us who prefer go-motion and other non-CGI effects work will always pay respect to ILM’s achievements on Howard the Duck, particularly their efforts with the Dark Overlord creature in the movie’s final act. People unfortunately tend to focus on the $2 million duck suit (see point #3), but even then Howard didn’t deserve its Razzie for Worst Visual Effects. To compare it to digital creatures, the monster would fit in just fine in either of the Men in Black movies. And for its own time, it was a magnificent creation. So it existed alongside a silly costumed creature in an overpriced B-movie, it still deserved an Oscar nomination for F/X in 1987, a year the Academy recognized Little Shop of Horrors and Poltergeist II: The Other Side (and incomparable winner Aliens). 3. The Duck Suit is Still Better Than Most CGI Those of us who grew up with Muppets, Chewbacca and other non-computer-generated fantasy creatures had no problem with Howard the Duck’s titular fowl being represented as a dwarf in a duck suit. The issue with the effect, though, is that allegedly Lucas had wanted Howard to be a CG creation, but the technology just wasn’t there yet. So, costumes and robotics, all of which reportedly cost $2 million, were viewed as a relative disappointment. But think of how few great CG characters there have been in the past 20 years, and then seriously attempt to argue that Howard would have been any better if made in the years of CGI supremacy. Now, also remember that 1986 was a year that gave us fine puppetry, costumed dwarfs and robotics like that found in Labyrinth (also a Lucasfilm production), Little Shop of Horrors, Legend, Short Circuit, Flight of the Navigator, Troll (sure, why not?) and, yes, Howard the Duck. So really, the only thing disappointing about the duck suit is that it doesn’t really look like the comic book character upon which it’s based. Of course, it’s not likely that a CG version of Howard would have been any more faithful. 4. Parallels, Puns and Playful Philosophy Some fans of the original Howard the Duck comics could argue that the duck suit is hardly the worst offense of unfaithfulness. Other complaints might be the alteration of Beverly’s career or the occasional sacrifice of the comic’s tone in order to pander to younger audiences. But real sticklers may take issue with Howard’s origin, the inclusion of Duckworld (which did come from the comics but wasn’t Howard creator Steve Gerber’s idea of what the character’s home world was like) and the punny parallels that came with it. Yet for those of us who love corny jokes and puns, the idea of an alternate world where everything’s the same, just with descendants of ducks rather than apes, is a lot of fun. It’s the same appreciation that allowed me to enjoy the ska scene and the similarly parallel worlds of The Flintstones and Dinosaurs and the parodies in MAD Magazine. In the first few minutes, we get treated to the following cheesy but delicious sight and audio gags: a Rolling Egg magazine, a Playduck magazine, movie posters for “Splahsdance,” “Breeders of the Lost Stork” and My Little Chickadee (starring W.C. Fowls and Mae Nest), and commercials for feather fungus treatment and the Crazy Eddie spoof “Crazy Webby.” This, plus the opening credit narration and theory of Duckworld evolution were enjoyable to a kid in the midst of learning about Darwin and pondering the existence of alternate worlds. 5. Jeffrey Jones as Dr. Jenning/Dark Overlord Between Howard the Duck and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Jeffrey Jones was one of the biggest and best villains of the summer of ‘86. For kids, anyway. But even adults recognized the quality of Jones’ performance in Howard, as Dr. Jenning, the scientist who becomes possessed by the Dark Overlord. To cult audiences, he may have seemed like just another Dr. Lizardo/Lord Worfin (of The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension), but while John Lithgow was fine and nutty, Jones is much creepier and much, much more evil, even when he finds time to be deadpan hilarious during the greatest scene in the film, in the “cajun sushi” diner. 6. The Diner Scene Although it’s mostly thanks to Jones that this scene is so memorable, it’s not just his performance alone that makes it so terrific. Every time I watch the movie, I look forward to the entire episode, from Jones/Jenning/Dark Overlord’s exposition to the waitress’ interactions with the “family” to Howard’s pie and quack-fu fight with a bunch of rednecks. And I will always recommend the movie for this scene alone. It includes a lot of disturbing elements, such as Beverly’s claim that she’s Howard’s girlfriend and the angry mob’s desire to kill and cook a talking duck man, that might have worked better had Howard been represented as an animated character rather than a guy in a suit (bestiality and homicide is just fine in Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and Looney Tunes cartoons), but it’s also one of the weirdest and funniest scenes from any comic book adaptation ever. 7. Lea Thompson as Beverly Switzler I would go so far as to argue that Lea Thompson’s crimped-haired Beverly is the hottest female comic book character come to (cinematic) life, but that is certainly subjective. Plenty of people probably prefer Kirsten Dunst, Halle Berry, Jennifer Garner, Michelle Pfeiffer, Pamela Anderson or even Margot Kidder. But Thompson is definitely in there as one of the greatest physical incarnations of a comic book femme d’ fantasy, and the scene where she goes to bed with Howard wearing barely a bit of lingerie (as creepy as the scene is infamous for being) is up there with Dunst’s wet tshirt/upside-down kiss in Spider-Man and any of Pfeiffer’s bondage-bound Catwoman scenes in Batman Returns as one of the hottest moments from any comic book adaptation ever. 8. Cherry Bomb and the Howard the Duck soundtrack Beverly may not have been a rocker in the comics, but this was the 1980s, and you had to have a great synthpop soundtrack, so the character was given a change in career as the leader of a Runaways-inspired band called Cherry Bomb. And for having beaten out more musical contenders for the role, including The Go-Go’s Belinda Carlisle and Tori Amos (then of Y Can’t Tori Read), Lea Thompson does quite well singing such catchy tunes as “Howard the Duck” and “Hunger City.” Cherry Bomb’s music also had some help from Thomas Dolby, George Clinton, Joe Walsh and Stevie Wonder. As for the rest of the soundtrack, Oscar-winning composer John Barry (Out of Africa; the James Bond films) contributes a very fine score. 9. It’s For Kids Because everyone always defends the Star Wars prequels as being for kids, as if that’s really an excuse for faulty filmmaking, I’m going to do the same here. But to do that, I guess I have to also defend the idea that it is indeed a movie for kids. Watching the thing, it’s hard to tell, because there is a lot of content and humor that only adults can or should appreciate, and certainly one of the biggest criticisms with the movie is it’s fluctuations between wanting to be a biting, sarcastic comic book adaptation for older audiences and fans of the source and needing to be a silly movie for kids. But for all the duck nudity, sexuality and other material better suited to mature audiences, there’s not really anything harmful to a kid, and there’s millions of us ‘80s children who grew up okay to prove it. So, while you adults may not be able to enjoy Howard the Duck anymore, even as a nostalgic artifact, your kids will probably like it as much as you used to. 10. It’s Not Redundant Unlike some comic book adaptations, Howard the Duck isn’t a straight lift from the pages of the source material, and it’s better off for it. Some fans of the comic may be annoyed with Howard’s appearance or Beverly’s occupation or the absence of any of Howard’s usual foes, but those of us who saw the movie first can appreciate the differences, because these allow for a better introduction to and curiosity about the comic. In a way, it’s to the original Marvel series as The Incredibles is to the graphic novel of Watchmen (though it’s certainly not anywhere near as smart nor well-crafted as The Incredibles). Now, if you still aren’t sure whether or not you should get the DVD, watch some (or all) of the movie on Hulu: Originally posted on:SpoutBlog
]]>Tue, 10 Mar 2009 22:01:08 GMTSpoutBlogSpoutBlog on spout.com3/10/2009 6:01:08 PMIf you buy the kids only one new video release this week, make it Pinocchio. Obviously. But if you have enough spending money to buy two, pick up Howard the Duck as well. Finally on DVD in America (with a Special Edition no less), the infamous flop is anything but a great film. Yet it is hardly one of the worst films of the 1980s, despite its reputation. For the past 23 years, I’ve stood by my childhood love for Howard the Duck, constantly acknowledging that I even owned Ellis Weiner’s novelization of the film. Technically, the best reason to defend the movie’s existence is that it directly led to the creation of Pixar. But this reason doesn’t influence anyone to watch the thing. So, in order to defend the movie’s onscreen worth, I’ve come up with ten points for why you should pick up the new Howard the Duck disc and not feel at all guilty about doing so. 1. It’s No Longer the Worst Lucasfilm Production Take your pick — there’s The Phantom Menace or there’s Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, either of which could certainly take the prize for being the worst movie to come from George Lucas in his 40 years producing films. Well, maybe not worse than More American Graffiti. But both films were far bigger creative and franchise disappointments than Howard the Duck (financial success is another story, of course), and so they have a relative sort of wretchedness that places them in the bottom of Lucas’ Sarlacc pit of a career. Even if you’re one of those defend-to-the-end Star Wars fanboys who will argue the pros of Menace, at least then consider Willow to be worse than Howard the Duck. The blatant Lord of the Rings rip-off has its historical relevance, but looking back on it now, it’s even more dated than Howard. And regardless of how groundbreaking it was, Willow’s visual effects don’t hold up quite as well as Howard’s old-fashioned, and oft-celebrated craftsmanship. But that’s another point… 2.  The Special Effects Are Technically Brilliant Those of us who prefer go-motion and other non-CGI effects work will always pay respect to ILM’s achievements on Howard the Duck, particularly their efforts with the Dark Overlord creature in the movie’s final act. People unfortunately tend to focus on the $2 million duck suit (see point #3), but even then Howard didn’t deserve its Razzie for Worst Visual Effects. To compare it to digital creatures, the monster would fit in just fine in either of the Men in Black movies. And for its own time, it was a magnificent creation. So it existed alongside a silly costumed creature in an overpriced B-movie, it still deserved an Oscar nomination for F/X in 1987, a year the Academy recognized Little Shop of Horrors and Poltergeist II: The Other Side (and incomparable winner Aliens). 3. The Duck Suit is Still Better Than Most CGI Those of us who grew up with Muppets, Chewbacca and other non-computer-generated fantasy creatures had no problem with Howard the Duck’s titular fowl being represented as a dwarf in a duck suit. The issue with the effect, though, is that allegedly Lucas had wanted Howard to be a CG creation, but the technology just wasn’t there yet. So, costumes and robotics, all of which reportedly cost $2 million, were viewed as a relative disappointment. But think of how few great CG characters there have been in the past 20 years, and then seriously attempt to argue that Howard would have been any better if made in the years of CGI supremacy. Now, also remember that 1986 was a year that gave us fine puppetry, costumed dwarfs and robotics like that found in Labyrinth (also a Lucasfilm production), Little Shop of Horrors, Legend, Short Circuit, Flight of the Navigator, Troll (sure, why not?) and, yes, Howard the Duck. So really, the only thing disappointing about the duck suit is that it doesn’t really look like the comic book character upon which it’s based. Of course, it’s not likely that a CG version of Howard would have been any more faithful. 4. Parallels, Puns and Playful Philosophy Some fans of the original Howard the Duck comics could argue that the duck suit is hardly the worst offense of unfaithfulness. Other complaints might be the alteration of Beverly’s career or the occasional sacrifice of the comic’s tone in order to pander to younger audiences. But real sticklers may take issue with Howard’s origin, the inclusion of Duckworld (which did come from the comics but wasn’t Howard creator Steve Gerber’s idea of what the character’s home world was like) and the punny parallels that came with it. Yet for those of us who love corny jokes and puns, the idea of an alternate world where everything’s the same, just with descendants of ducks rather than apes, is a lot of fun. It’s the same appreciation that allowed me to enjoy the ska scene and the similarly parallel worlds of The Flintstones and Dinosaurs and the parodies in MAD Magazine. In the first few minutes, we get treated to the following cheesy but delicious sight and audio gags: a Rolling Egg magazine, a Playduck magazine, movie posters for “Splahsdance,” “Breeders of the Lost Stork” and My Little Chickadee (starring W.C. Fowls and Mae Nest), and commercials for feather fungus treatment and the Crazy Eddie spoof “Crazy Webby.” This, plus the opening credit narration and theory of Duckworld evolution were enjoyable to a kid in the midst of learning about Darwin and pondering the existence of alternate worlds. 5. Jeffrey Jones as Dr. Jenning/Dark Overlord Between Howard the Duck and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Jeffrey Jones was one of the biggest and best villains of the summer of ‘86. For kids, anyway. But even adults recognized the quality of Jones’ performance in Howard, as Dr. Jenning, the scientist who becomes possessed by the Dark Overlord. To cult audiences, he may have seemed like just another Dr. Lizardo/Lord Worfin (of The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension), but while John Lithgow was fine and nutty, Jones is much creepier and much, much more evil, even when he finds time to be deadpan hilarious during the greatest scene in the film, in the “cajun sushi” diner. 6. The Diner Scene Although it’s mostly thanks to Jones that this scene is so memorable, it’s not just his performance alone that makes it so terrific. Every time I watch the movie, I look forward to the entire episode, from Jones/Jenning/Dark Overlord’s exposition to the waitress’ interactions with the “family” to Howard’s pie and quack-fu fight with a bunch of rednecks. And I will always recommend the movie for this scene alone. It includes a lot of disturbing elements, such as Beverly’s claim that she’s Howard’s girlfriend and the angry mob’s desire to kill and cook a talking duck man, that might have worked better had Howard been represented as an animated character rather than a guy in a suit (bestiality and homicide is just fine in Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and Looney Tunes cartoons), but it’s also one of the weirdest and funniest scenes from any comic book adaptation ever. 7. Lea Thompson as Beverly Switzler I would go so far as to argue that Lea Thompson’s crimped-haired Beverly is the hottest female comic book character come to (cinematic) life, but that is certainly subjective. Plenty of people probably prefer Kirsten Dunst, Halle Berry, Jennifer Garner, Michelle Pfeiffer, Pamela Anderson or even Margot Kidder. But Thompson is definitely in there as one of the greatest physical incarnations of a comic book femme d’ fantasy, and the scene where she goes to bed with Howard wearing barely a bit of lingerie (as creepy as the scene is infamous for being) is up there with Dunst’s wet tshirt/upside-down kiss in Spider-Man and any of Pfeiffer’s bondage-bound Catwoman scenes in Batman Returns as one of the hottest moments from any comic book adaptation ever. 8. Cherry Bomb and the Howard the Duck soundtrack Beverly may not have been a rocker in the comics, but this was the 1980s, and you had to have a great synthpop soundtrack, so the character was given a change in career as the leader of a Runaways-inspired band called Cherry Bomb. And for having beaten out more musical contenders for the role, including The Go-Go’s Belinda Carlisle and Tori Amos (then of Y Can’t Tori Read), Lea Thompson does quite well singing such catchy tunes as “Howard the Duck” and “Hunger City.” Cherry Bomb’s music also had some help from Thomas Dolby, George Clinton, Joe Walsh and Stevie Wonder. As for the rest of the soundtrack, Oscar-winning composer John Barry (Out of Africa; the James Bond films) contributes a very fine score. 9. It’s For Kids Because everyone always defends the Star Wars prequels as being for kids, as if that’s really an excuse for faulty filmmaking, I’m going to do the same here. But to do that, I guess I have to also defend the idea that it is indeed a movie for kids. Watching the thing, it’s hard to tell, because there is a lot of content and humor that only adults can or should appreciate, and certainly one of the biggest criticisms with the movie is it’s fluctuations between wanting to be a biting, sarcastic comic book adaptation for older audiences and fans of the source and needing to be a silly movie for kids. But for all the duck nudity, sexuality and other material better suited to mature audiences, there’s not really anything harmful to a kid, and there’s millions of us ‘80s children who grew up okay to prove it. So, while you adults may not be able to enjoy Howard the Duck anymore, even as a nostalgic artifact, your kids will probably like it as much as you used to. 10. It’s Not Redundant Unlike some comic book adaptations, Howard the Duck isn’t a straight lift from the pages of the source material, and it’s better off for it. Some fans of the comic may be annoyed with Howard’s appearance or Beverly’s occupation or the absence of any of Howard’s usual foes, but those of us who saw the movie first can appreciate the differences, because these allow for a better introduction to and curiosity about the comic. In a way, it’s to the original Marvel series as The Incredibles is to the graphic novel of Watchmen (though it’s certainly not anywhere near as smart nor well-crafted as The Incredibles). Now, if you still aren’t sure whether or not you should get the DVD, watch some (or all) of the movie on Hulu: Originally posted on:SpoutBlog http://www.spout.com/blogs/spoutblog/archive/2008/12/11/38235.aspx Post By: SpoutBlog
Post To: SpoutBlog on spout.com
Post Date: 12/11/2008 11:01:42 AM
Body: The fanboys are so serious about The Dark Knight being the best film of 2008 that if the Academy snubs the comic-book adaptation for a Best Picture nomination, they’re liable to storm the Kodak Theatre on February 22 in protest. But why should anyone be worried that it won’t get the nomination? It wouldn’t be much of a coup for the year’s top-grossing blockbuster to be named one of the five Best Picture candidates. In fact, since the very first Academy Awards, the top award has often been handed out to films that were #1 at the box office in their respective year. And the last time it happened was as recent as 2003, with The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Thanks to popular and talented filmmakers like D.W. Griffith, Walt Disney, David Lean and Steven Spielberg, it’s hardly uncommon for films to make money and earn critical respect. But this isn’t an opportunity to spotlight overrated top-grossing Best Pictures like Titanic, Rain Man and Rocky, which were decidedly not their year’s best films. Rather, this is a chance to ease the minds of fanboys just in case The Dark Knight doesn’t get the nod. Some of these blockbusters were indeed nominated for Best Picture, and a few even won the award, but some of them were both their year’s biggest moneymaker (in the U.S.) and best film (from the U.S.) without gaining proper Academy recognition. 1937: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs Domestic Gross: $66,596,803 It’s certainly not the best feature-length animated film from Disney. That would be the box office disappointment Pinocchio, which came out a few years later and revealed the true breadth of Uncle Walt’s magic. But this was the first, and it’s enchanting enough that it towers over even the best live-action films of its year, including The Awful Truth, The Life of Emile Zola and The Good Earth. 1946: The Best Years of Our Lives Domestic Gross: $11,300,000 If a film like this came out today, it would probably be ignored at the box office, just as most movies responding to the Iraq War and its effects have been box office poison. Yet The Best Years of Our Lives was a huge hit with moviegoers, and it was named Best Picture, too. If you haven’t seen it, you might think that its success had to do with the idea that movies were far more patriotic in tone then. But in reality, this film is more critical of post-wartime America and more supportive and revealing of veteran’s struggles than much of what Hollywood attempts now. 1957: The Bridge on the River Kwai Domestic Gross: $17,195,000 If you only knew the successes of Snow White and this film, you might think the best way to both box office and Oscar gold is to feature a song involving whistling. Unlike “Whistle While You Work,” however, the catchy tune in this film was a hit from decades earlier, and certain circumstances allowed it to add subtext, one of many elements that makes David Lean’s POW epic so rich and wonderful. Of course, it’s that widescreen mise-en-scene that really makes this film just barely edge out 12 Angry Men and Sweet Smell of Success to be considered the year’s finest Hollywood release. 1962: Lawrence of Arabia Domestic Gross: $20,310,000 Nothing against Christopher Nolan and his interest in making truly big-screen-appropriate blockbusters, but even if he does want to completely shoot his next movie for the IMAX format, he’ll never be as fit for 70mm as David Lean was. We all remember that famous shot of the rider in the distance who eventually approaches the foreground, but despite what’s written above for the River Kwai’s entry on this list, Lean wasn’t just good for widescreen spectacle. He could actually direct action pretty well, too, for starters. If only he’d lived long enough to have been forced to deliver his own superhero flick. 1965: Doctor Zhivago Domestic Gross: $60,954,000 Enough with the David Lean, right? This isn’t even that great a film, but the mid-60s weren’t a particularly good time in terms of Hollywood output. If you prefer, some sources place The Sound of Music as the year’s box office champ (its listed domestic take includes rerelease income), and there’s plenty who think that Best Picture-winner was the best film of 1965 instead (hi, Mom). 1972: The Godfather Domestic Gross: $86,691,000 It won the box office, it won the Academy Awards and it still has the utmost respect of film critics and fans today. Few people could honestly say there was a better film in 1972. Even the silly voters who allowed Bob Fosse to win Best Director for Cabaret that year probably wish they could go back and change their minds. 1980: The Empire Strikes Back Domestic Gross: $209,398,025 Argue all you want that 1977 deserves to be on this list, too, but both Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Annie Hall are better films. Besides, anytime critics include the first Star Wars as one of the best films of all time, they actually depreciate the quality of its sequel. Putting that film in the same league with The Empire Strikes Back is like putting the 1966 Batman movie on equal standing with The Dark Knight. Okay, that’s overdoing it. Maybe like putting Batman Begins on the same level, then. 1981: Raiders of the Lost Ark Domestic Gross: $209,562,121 It’s terrible to have to include two George Lucas productions on this list, mainly because by 1999 he was putting out films that were their year’s top earners and top turkeys. Plus, thanks to the latest Indiana Jones movie, it’s a little tough to watch Raiders without thinking of how the protagonist will one day fly through the air in a nuked fridge. But it’s still a damn good action-adventure flick, arguably the greatest of all time. 1985: Back to the Future Domestic Gross: $210,609,762 Robert Zemeckis gets more credit for the double success of Forrest Gump because that film won Best Picture in addition to topping the box office in 1994. Yet it’s this top-grossing film that deserves more esteem. It may not have been nominated for Best Picture, but it captured the mid-80s’ hunger for science fiction and nostalgia perfectly, turning it into one of the most memorable films of the decade, and of all time. With all respect to Sydney Pollack and John Huston, does anyone even think of Out of Africa or Prizzi’s Honor much today? 1995: Toy Story Domestic Gross: $191,796,233 Compared to WALL-E, this film seems technically crude. It’s perhaps analogous to, in 1995, comparing Toy Story to Snow White. That’s how far it seems the wizards at Pixar have come in 13 years. But just as Disney’s first animated feature enchants us still to this day, Toy Story, far from being dated, has aged better than most of Hollywood’s films from the same year. If ever there was a year for a Pixar movie to be nominated for Best Picture, 1995 was the year. It was better than Braveheart, let alone Babe, then, and it’s better than those films now. That said, it would be just as interesting to see Braveheart 3-D next year along with the 3-D rerelease of Toy Story. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog
]]>Thu, 11 Dec 2008 16:01:42 GMTSpoutBlogSpoutBlog on spout.com12/11/2008 11:01:42 AMThe fanboys are so serious about The Dark Knight being the best film of 2008 that if the Academy snubs the comic-book adaptation for a Best Picture nomination, they’re liable to storm the Kodak Theatre on February 22 in protest. But why should anyone be worried that it won’t get the nomination? It wouldn’t be much of a coup for the year’s top-grossing blockbuster to be named one of the five Best Picture candidates. In fact, since the very first Academy Awards, the top award has often been handed out to films that were #1 at the box office in their respective year. And the last time it happened was as recent as 2003, with The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Thanks to popular and talented filmmakers like D.W. Griffith, Walt Disney, David Lean and Steven Spielberg, it’s hardly uncommon for films to make money and earn critical respect. But this isn’t an opportunity to spotlight overrated top-grossing Best Pictures like Titanic, Rain Man and Rocky, which were decidedly not their year’s best films. Rather, this is a chance to ease the minds of fanboys just in case The Dark Knight doesn’t get the nod. Some of these blockbusters were indeed nominated for Best Picture, and a few even won the award, but some of them were both their year’s biggest moneymaker (in the U.S.) and best film (from the U.S.) without gaining proper Academy recognition. 1937: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs Domestic Gross: $66,596,803 It’s certainly not the best feature-length animated film from Disney. That would be the box office disappointment Pinocchio, which came out a few years later and revealed the true breadth of Uncle Walt’s magic. But this was the first, and it’s enchanting enough that it towers over even the best live-action films of its year, including The Awful Truth, The Life of Emile Zola and The Good Earth. 1946: The Best Years of Our Lives Domestic Gross: $11,300,000 If a film like this came out today, it would probably be ignored at the box office, just as most movies responding to the Iraq War and its effects have been box office poison. Yet The Best Years of Our Lives was a huge hit with moviegoers, and it was named Best Picture, too. If you haven’t seen it, you might think that its success had to do with the idea that movies were far more patriotic in tone then. But in reality, this film is more critical of post-wartime America and more supportive and revealing of veteran’s struggles than much of what Hollywood attempts now. 1957: The Bridge on the River Kwai Domestic Gross: $17,195,000 If you only knew the successes of Snow White and this film, you might think the best way to both box office and Oscar gold is to feature a song involving whistling. Unlike “Whistle While You Work,” however, the catchy tune in this film was a hit from decades earlier, and certain circumstances allowed it to add subtext, one of many elements that makes David Lean’s POW epic so rich and wonderful. Of course, it’s that widescreen mise-en-scene that really makes this film just barely edge out 12 Angry Men and Sweet Smell of Success to be considered the year’s finest Hollywood release. 1962: Lawrence of Arabia Domestic Gross: $20,310,000 Nothing against Christopher Nolan and his interest in making truly big-screen-appropriate blockbusters, but even if he does want to completely shoot his next movie for the IMAX format, he’ll never be as fit for 70mm as David Lean was. We all remember that famous shot of the rider in the distance who eventually approaches the foreground, but despite what’s written above for the River Kwai’s entry on this list, Lean wasn’t just good for widescreen spectacle. He could actually direct action pretty well, too, for starters. If only he’d lived long enough to have been forced to deliver his own superhero flick. 1965: Doctor Zhivago Domestic Gross: $60,954,000 Enough with the David Lean, right? This isn’t even that great a film, but the mid-60s weren’t a particularly good time in terms of Hollywood output. If you prefer, some sources place The Sound of Music as the year’s box office champ (its listed domestic take includes rerelease income), and there’s plenty who think that Best Picture-winner was the best film of 1965 instead (hi, Mom). 1972: The Godfather Domestic Gross: $86,691,000 It won the box office, it won the Academy Awards and it still has the utmost respect of film critics and fans today. Few people could honestly say there was a better film in 1972. Even the silly voters who allowed Bob Fosse to win Best Director for Cabaret that year probably wish they could go back and change their minds. 1980: The Empire Strikes Back Domestic Gross: $209,398,025 Argue all you want that 1977 deserves to be on this list, too, but both Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Annie Hall are better films. Besides, anytime critics include the first Star Wars as one of the best films of all time, they actually depreciate the quality of its sequel. Putting that film in the same league with The Empire Strikes Back is like putting the 1966 Batman movie on equal standing with The Dark Knight. Okay, that’s overdoing it. Maybe like putting Batman Begins on the same level, then. 1981: Raiders of the Lost Ark Domestic Gross: $209,562,121 It’s terrible to have to include two George Lucas productions on this list, mainly because by 1999 he was putting out films that were their year’s top earners and top turkeys. Plus, thanks to the latest Indiana Jones movie, it’s a little tough to watch Raiders without thinking of how the protagonist will one day fly through the air in a nuked fridge. But it’s still a damn good action-adventure flick, arguably the greatest of all time. 1985: Back to the Future Domestic Gross: $210,609,762 Robert Zemeckis gets more credit for the double success of Forrest Gump because that film won Best Picture in addition to topping the box office in 1994. Yet it’s this top-grossing film that deserves more esteem. It may not have been nominated for Best Picture, but it captured the mid-80s’ hunger for science fiction and nostalgia perfectly, turning it into one of the most memorable films of the decade, and of all time. With all respect to Sydney Pollack and John Huston, does anyone even think of Out of Africa or Prizzi’s Honor much today? 1995: Toy Story Domestic Gross: $191,796,233 Compared to WALL-E, this film seems technically crude. It’s perhaps analogous to, in 1995, comparing Toy Story to Snow White. That’s how far it seems the wizards at Pixar have come in 13 years. But just as Disney’s first animated feature enchants us still to this day, Toy Story, far from being dated, has aged better than most of Hollywood’s films from the same year. If ever there was a year for a Pixar movie to be nominated for Best Picture, 1995 was the year. It was better than Braveheart, let alone Babe, then, and it’s better than those films now. That said, it would be just as interesting to see Braveheart 3-D next year along with the 3-D rerelease of Toy Story. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog http://www.spout.com/blogs/spoutblog/archive/2008/12/2/37857.aspx Post By: SpoutBlog
Post To: SpoutBlog on spout.com
Post Date: 12/2/2008 3:00:54 PM
Body: When I first had the idea to assemble a dream cast for a movie about Somali pirates, I envisioned a typical actioner with a dash of tense international politics. The pirates would be played by unknown actors of African descent, with the exception of “the good one,” who would be played by either Djimon Hounsou or Chiwetel Ejiofor. He would realize his folly, then become an integral part of the hero’s harrowing siege of a captured vessel. The hero, of course, would be a white, male, American naval officer, rough around the edges, not afraid to cut the crap and do the right thing. As it turns out, the truth of what’s going on in the Gulf of Aden is much more fascinating. Enter Michele Ballerin: Virginia socialite, investment banker, weapons dealer. When she’s not breeding horses or fending off allegations of fraud in Austria, she’s running Select Armor, Inc. The company is not your typical private security firm competing for lucrative anti-terror contracts. It’s a small, nimble company, run by a woman, with small town roots, and plenty of murky dealings in places like Somalia. What does Ballerin have to due with the pirates? More importantly, who should play her in a movie? More after the jump. Not a lot of information is available on Ballerin, but one thing is clear: she would make a great movie character. She’s someone whose leaked e-mails make disparaging remarks about “the f*cks” from the UN who snoop around Select Armor’s dealings. After being put up for a few days Kampala, Uganda by the president of that country, she reportedly said that, “Kampala is a real shithole.” Nevertheless, she has a tremendous amount of traction in Africa, especially in Somalia. Enter the pirates: According to this ABC News story, Ballerin personally took over negotiations with the bandits aboard the Saudi oil tanker Sirius Star, when official talks broke down. A senior government official told ABC News, “It’s pretty sad when a horse country socialite has more sway in Somalia than the whole US government.” So, the real casting question is who could play Michele Ballerin, the potty-mouthed, middle-aged, Southern debutante who shoots from the hip? She needs to have loads of charm. According to a business contact, Ballerin is treated as royalty in Somalia, even having gained the nickname “Amira,” Arabic for princess. I’ve assembled three candidates, with speculation about how their films would differ. Got a better idea? Leave it in the comments. Julia Roberts As realized by Roberts, Ballerin would be a cross between Erin Brockovich and Joanne Herring, the Houston socialite and conservative political meddler she portrayed in Charlie Wilson’s War. When the contradiction between her patriotic mission and her crass business dealings are clearly juxtaposed, she would laugh them off with unparalleled grace. For the majority of the film, we would suspect that she was simply floating through her strange life, amused by the spectacle. But in the third act, an incident of piracy would strike a personal chord. She must exit her armored Cadillac, board the hi-jacked vessel, and put her charms to good use. Kate Winslet Winlset’s version of Ballerin would be considerably more naïve than Julia Roberts’, and younger. Instead of being an entrepreneuring arms dealer tooling around Africa on her charms and business savvy, Winslet’s Ballerin would begin as a bored heiress of a private military fortune. Towed along on business trips by her father, it seems his dream that she’ll one day take over the mercenary business will go unfulfilled, her sense of entitlement is matched only by her apathy. But then, something goes wrong in Somalia, daddy is killed by pirates. With a heavy heart, she takes up her father’s mantle and enters negotiations with the pirates, determined to halt the cycle of needless violence. Meryl Streep Streep’s Ballerin would be primarily compassionate, echoing her portrayal of another famous white woman in Africa, Karen Blixen in Out of Africa. Her warm smile and genuine personal dealings would deftly hide her shrewd business sense. For the first half of the film, her involvement in international arms dealing would seem like a complete non-sequitur, the movie would hold together only due to Streep’s tremendous talent. Once a business deal goes sour, the rage she so carefully masks is revealed. In the final sequence, she must harness both her gentle charms and her seething anger to negotiate the release of a captured cruise ship carrying not only innocent people, but a hidden arms shipment worth millions. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog
]]>Tue, 02 Dec 2008 20:00:54 GMTSpoutBlogSpoutBlog on spout.com12/2/2008 3:00:54 PM When I first had the idea to assemble a dream cast for a movie about Somali pirates, I envisioned a typical actioner with a dash of tense international politics. The pirates would be played by unknown actors of African descent, with the exception of “the good one,” who would be played by either Djimon Hounsou or Chiwetel Ejiofor. He would realize his folly, then become an integral part of the hero’s harrowing siege of a captured vessel. The hero, of course, would be a white, male, American naval officer, rough around the edges, not afraid to cut the crap and do the right thing. As it turns out, the truth of what’s going on in the Gulf of Aden is much more fascinating. Enter Michele Ballerin: Virginia socialite, investment banker, weapons dealer. When she’s not breeding horses or fending off allegations of fraud in Austria, she’s running Select Armor, Inc. The company is not your typical private security firm competing for lucrative anti-terror contracts. It’s a small, nimble company, run by a woman, with small town roots, and plenty of murky dealings in places like Somalia. What does Ballerin have to due with the pirates? More importantly, who should play her in a movie? More after the jump. Not a lot of information is available on Ballerin, but one thing is clear: she would make a great movie character. She’s someone whose leaked e-mails make disparaging remarks about “the f*cks” from the UN who snoop around Select Armor’s dealings. After being put up for a few days Kampala, Uganda by the president of that country, she reportedly said that, “Kampala is a real shithole.” Nevertheless, she has a tremendous amount of traction in Africa, especially in Somalia. Enter the pirates: According to this ABC News story, Ballerin personally took over negotiations with the bandits aboard the Saudi oil tanker Sirius Star, when official talks broke down. A senior government official told ABC News, “It’s pretty sad when a horse country socialite has more sway in Somalia than the whole US government.” So, the real casting question is who could play Michele Ballerin, the potty-mouthed, middle-aged, Southern debutante who shoots from the hip? She needs to have loads of charm. According to a business contact, Ballerin is treated as royalty in Somalia, even having gained the nickname “Amira,” Arabic for princess. I’ve assembled three candidates, with speculation about how their films would differ. Got a better idea? Leave it in the comments. Julia Roberts As realized by Roberts, Ballerin would be a cross between Erin Brockovich and Joanne Herring, the Houston socialite and conservative political meddler she portrayed in Charlie Wilson’s War. When the contradiction between her patriotic mission and her crass business dealings are clearly juxtaposed, she would laugh them off with unparalleled grace. For the majority of the film, we would suspect that she was simply floating through her strange life, amused by the spectacle. But in the third act, an incident of piracy would strike a personal chord. She must exit her armored Cadillac, board the hi-jacked vessel, and put her charms to good use. Kate Winslet Winlset’s version of Ballerin would be considerably more naïve than Julia Roberts’, and younger. Instead of being an entrepreneuring arms dealer tooling around Africa on her charms and business savvy, Winslet’s Ballerin would begin as a bored heiress of a private military fortune. Towed along on business trips by her father, it seems his dream that she’ll one day take over the mercenary business will go unfulfilled, her sense of entitlement is matched only by her apathy. But then, something goes wrong in Somalia, daddy is killed by pirates. With a heavy heart, she takes up her father’s mantle and enters negotiations with the pirates, determined to halt the cycle of needless violence. Meryl Streep Streep’s Ballerin would be primarily compassionate, echoing her portrayal of another famous white woman in Africa, Karen Blixen in Out of Africa. Her warm smile and genuine personal dealings would deftly hide her shrewd business sense. For the first half of the film, her involvement in international arms dealing would seem like a complete non-sequitur, the movie would hold together only due to Streep’s tremendous talent. Once a business deal goes sour, the rage she so carefully masks is revealed. In the final sequence, she must harness both her gentle charms and her seething anger to negotiate the release of a captured cruise ship carrying not only innocent people, but a hidden arms shipment worth millions. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog http://www.spout.com/groups/Movie_Games/Re_Mad_Lib_3_Ominous/598/31319/1/ShowPost.aspx Post By: Risselada
Post To: Movie Games
Post Date: 6/17/2008 12:06:55 PM
Body: oooh, quick give me one more verb
]]>Tue, 17 Jun 2008 16:06:55 GMTRisseladaMovie Games6/17/2008 12:06:55 PMoooh, quick give me one more verb http://www.spout.com/groups/Movie_Games/Re_Mad_Lib_3_Ominous/598/30516/1/ShowPost.aspx Post By: unclefestering
Post To: Movie Games
Post Date: 6/4/2008 9:08:57 PM
Body: 5. a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills
]]>Thu, 05 Jun 2008 01:08:57 GMTunclefesteringMovie Games6/4/2008 9:08:57 PM5. a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills http://www.spout.com/blogs/minerwerks/archive/2008/5/27/30059.aspx Post By: minerwerks
Post To: minerwerks Blog
Post Date: 5/27/2008 11:27:38 PM
Body: Nothing like a tragic loss in the film world to remind me how broad the art of film can be and how many worthy films are out there that I have yet to view. Earlier this year, when reviewing the Oscar nominees for Best Picture, I singled out Sydney Pollack's performance in 'Michael Clayton' as being particularly good. In the later part of his career - the part most familar to myself as a relative youngster - Pollack was best known as a producer and actor. While I knew of him as a director, it turns out I have been ridiculously neglectful of the man's filmography. Of course, most people have seen 'Tootsie,' the 1982 comedy that starred a cross-dressing Dustin Hoffman. But other than this blockbuster, the only Pollack-directred film I've actually seen is 'The Firm' (not a bad film, if I may say). But Pollack, we should not forget, was an Oscar-winner. He directed 'Out of Africa,' starring Meryl Streep and Robert Redford, two of the cinema's most likable performers. And though Redford has been in some of my favorite films ('All the President's Men,' 'Sneakers'), I haven't seen a single one of Pollack's films starring Mr. Sundance himself. There's the political thriller 'Three Days of the Condor,' the prototypical romance 'The Way We Were,' and the western drama 'Jeremiah Johnson,' among others (seven in total). In the later years, I had seen and admired Pollack's acting in 'Eyes Wide Shut' and 'Changing Lanes,' and I had expected to see his directorial effort 'The Interpreter' when it was released, but it just didn't happen. And of all the films in Pollack's filmography, why on earth have I never seen 'They Shoot Horses, Don't They?' Thankfully, we have a rich filmography as a director, actor and producer to enjoy for years to come, but it's a shame that Mr. Pollack had to depart this Earth while he still had vibrancy and talent to offer the film industry. He will be missed.
]]>Wed, 28 May 2008 03:27:38 GMTminerwerksminerwerks Blog5/27/2008 11:27:38 PMNothing like a tragic loss in the film world to remind me how broad the art of film can be and how many worthy films are out there that I have yet to view. Earlier this year, when reviewing the Oscar nominees for Best Picture, I singled out Sydney Pollack's performance in 'Michael Clayton' as being particularly good. In the later part of his career - the part most familar to myself as a relative youngster - Pollack was best known as a producer and actor. While I knew of him as a director, it turns out I have been ridiculously neglectful of the man's filmography. Of course, most people have seen 'Tootsie,' the 1982 comedy that starred a cross-dressing Dustin Hoffman. But other than this blockbuster, the only Pollack-directred film I've actually seen is 'The Firm' (not a bad film, if I may say). But Pollack, we should not forget, was an Oscar-winner. He directed 'Out of Africa,' starring Meryl Streep and Robert Redford, two of the cinema's most likable performers. And though Redford has been in some of my favorite films ('All the President's Men,' 'Sneakers'), I haven't seen a single one of Pollack's films starring Mr. Sundance himself. There's the political thriller 'Three Days of the Condor,' the prototypical romance 'The Way We Were,' and the western drama 'Jeremiah Johnson,' among others (seven in total). In the later years, I had seen and admired Pollack's acting in 'Eyes Wide Shut' and 'Changing Lanes,' and I had expected to see his directorial effort 'The Interpreter' when it was released, but it just didn't happen. And of all the films in Pollack's filmography, why on earth have I never seen 'They Shoot Horses, Don't They?' Thankfully, we have a rich filmography as a director, actor and producer to enjoy for years to come, but it's a shame that Mr. Pollack had to depart this Earth while he still had vibrancy and talent to offer the film industry. He will be missed. http://www.spout.com/blogs/puhnner/archive/2007/7/7/13354.aspx Post By: Puhnner
Post To: Puhnner Blog
Post Date: 7/7/2007 2:51:00 PM
Body: In Clive James recent book Cultural Amnesia; he writes about people who matter, most of them though, I am very sad and embarrassed to say, I never heard of ( for that matter, I just noticed that I had been reading his works for years in the New Yorker, but never noticed the ‘by-line’ until the other day ) but well I should have. The book is set up in alphabetical order and its subjects include such persons as Louis Armstrong, Dick Cavett, Miles Davis, Sergei Diaghilev, Francois Furet, Chris Marker, Michael Mann, Thomas Mann, Erik Satie, Margaret Thatcher, Isoroku Yamamoto, Aleksandr Zinoviev, and many others. Each person’s section begins with a brief biographical introduction followed by an essay of sorts on that particular person. The biographical information is terse and leaves a feeling of wanting to know much more of the person. The essays provide the most interest, relating the person in question with all sorts of other persons, other arts, and simple, often times intensely personal observations. I cannot say that I agree with all his observations, for who could ( I do not share his perception of John Coltrane’s music and the music of that period of Jazz in particular that he sets down in his essay on Duke Ellington ) but there is certainly something about Clive James way of weaving one bit to another and another and another. A portion of the section on Arthur Schnitzler follows below and how James weaves an isolated quote into an examination of the manifest absurdity within the mentioned films, the blockbuster, a few actors ability and personal idiosyncrasies, the nature of a ‘star’ to an actor, historic detail, and more… Of the great unknowns, Arthur Schnitzler (1862-1931) has his section and in the essay portion contains a marvelous review of sorts on ‘Where Eagles Dare’ a wonderously hilarious World War II adventure. I quote at length ( it is lengthy but can be read in convenient sections without missing much at all ), because Clive James tells and writes it all so well: ‘Arthur Schnitzler (1862-1931 ) was a giant of literary Vienna in its most fruitful era. A practicing physician before he turned professional writer, he brought a view steeped in the harsh realism of the consulting room and the surgery to his stories, novels, and plays. The most conspicuous, and most enduringly controversial, element in this clinical realism was his exploration of the erotic. As a physician he knew a lot about it at secondhand…’ ‘there are all kinds of flight from responsibility. There is a flight into death, a flight into sickness, and finally a flight into stupidity. The last is the least dangerous and the most comfortable, since even for clever people the journey is not as long as they might fondly imagine.’-Arthur Schnitzler, Buch Der Spruche und Bedenken, p. 78- ‘… Schnitzler’s flight into stupidity might look like the only explanation for the sort of newspapers, magazines, television programs and movies that make us ashamed to be living in the West. At first blush, the mass media seem to offer the ideal chance of examining stupidity in isolation. But once again, the trick is not easily worked. There is a possibility, amounting to a probability when the really big money is involved, that the stupidity is being manufactured by clever people whose commercial motives put their case, scope and integrity into abeyance. This non-anomaly becomes most obvious in the case of Hollywood's blockbuster movies, or the long haul of creative intelligence takes a spiral route towards the big haul at the box office. Every onlooker fancies his power of discrimination has a wonderful time when a blockbuster flops on the opening weekend. But the blockbuster that we actually have a wonderful time watching is a more equivocal case. Where Eagles Dare has always been my favorite example: since the day I first saw it, I've taken a sour delight rebutting pundits who so blithely assume that the obtuseness on screen merely reflects the stunted mentalities behind the camera, and I go on seeing its every rerun on television in order to reinforce my stock of telling detail---and, alright, in order to have a wonderful time. There's something precious about the intellectual squalor of Where Eagles Dare: it is a swamp with the surface of green pulp squeeze from emeralds. You can't get the same charge from Delta Force movies, or from the adventures of Jean-Claude Van Damme and the brainless universe where men with guns are helpless against a man fighting with his feet. Where Eagles Dare is the apex of a form: it shows that there is somewhere to go beyond The Guns of Navarone, a numbskull stratosphere in which not even The Wild Geese could fly. Where eagles dare, the sense of the ridiculous winks out to a dot, and the vision is filled with the vaulting pretensions of latter-day schoolmen who believe, if only ad hoc and pro tem, its cinematic sense can exist in vacuo: detached, that is, from any other sense; a voluntary brain-death. The whole complex phenomena is epitomized by Richard Burton's hairstyle. Schnitzler, let us remember, said that the flight into stupidity is a flight away from responsibility. But soaring beyond any human absurdity that even Schnitzler could imagine, Richard Burton's hairstyle in Where Eagles Dare is a flight into stupidity and away from the barber. Burton plays a British agent who is possibly also a German agent, although we can be fairly sure that he will turn out to be a British agent in the end, because Richard Burton's agent would never agree to a deal by which his client was shot at dawn. Burton the almost certainly British stage is sent, with Clint Eastwood and other agents---some of who actually do turn out to be German agents—on a mission to a castle deep behind German lines, there to rescue, or possibly confirm the credibility of, or perhaps betray the real identity of an actor pretending to be an American general in possession of the plans for a Second Front. The actor playing the actor need not detain us, and considering how he acts it is a wonder that the Germans have detained him. (There is a lot more to wonder about the behavior of the Germans, but we'll get to that later.) The actors who matter are Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood. Clint, already a top box office draw at the time, has been cast as a simple, straight-talking American assassin who helps a fiendishly ingenious British spy: it's the same relationship as Felix Leiter to James Bond, but beefed up to equal status to meet the requirements of the American marquee. Apart from saying "hello" so as to make Germans turn around before he shoots them with the silenced pistol---if he had merely mouthed "hello" before shooting them in the back, it would have been a different kind of movie, i.e., a realistic one ---Clint's character has nothing anachronistic about him except his cataleptic taciturnity, which we are glad to recognize as a minimally equipped actor's career-long habit of overdoing the understatement. Burton's own style of acting is equally dissonant with the time, but in the opposite direction: he always overdid the overstatement, and from the beginning to the end of his career on screen he looked exactly like a stage actor projecting to the upper circle, except when a director with animal-training skills (Martin Ritt in The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, to take one of the few examples) either whipped him into submission or else slipped a sedative into his morning triple. Burton always moved his lips so much when he enunciated that they would stick out past the end of his nose, and there are episodes in Where Eagles Dare in which they practically leave the frame, as if yet another triple was waiting out there, begging to be imbibed. It isn't the stuff he does with his face, however, that makes Burton look out of place in this castellated anteroom of World War II. It is the stuff on top of his head. It's his hairstyle. It was probably still all his own hair at that stage, but it's a hairstyle: an item, that is, which not even women found it easy to obtain during World War II, and which for men was unknown. (In the movie, Mary Ure has obviously taken a hairstylist into action with her, but we never see him: although if he'd wandered into a shot holding a crimping iron he would have looked no more futuristic than her miraculously smooth coiffure, shining with a blonde luster that Eva Braun, even with her connections, could only dream of.) The high command of the Romanian army did indeed issue an order that no officer below the rank of major could wear makeup, but the British army and the German army both made a policy of short back and sides for all ranks, and the German army was particularly close-cropped. Yet Burton, intending to be accepted as a German officer in order to penetrate the enemy redoubt, has gone to action sporting a page-boy hairstyle so fulsome that it spills abundant curls and waves below the back of his collar. Burton had a big head anyway. I interviewed him once, and found out why he always looks so stocky on screen: it was because his upper works were so broad you had to lean sideways to see past him. Even if close-shorn he would have had to wear a cap rare for its size in the whole of the Wehrmacht. But with his hairstyle added to his massive cranium, his cap has to be big enough for a buffalo, and it still does nothing to disguise---does a lot, indeed, to emphasize,--- the anomalous abundance of hair protruding at the back. On several occasions in the movie has to pass a German checkpoint, and you can only deduce that the garrison has been recruited from an institute to for the blind. Later in the war, when regular German forces were in a state of collapse, Volksstrum units were organized from the old, the adolescent, the lame and the sick, but I can't remember that very many sightless people were issued with the Panzerfaust and asked to shoot in the direction of the noise kicked up by Allied tanks. Here at the castle there is no discrimination against the optically handicapped. Whether as a single, double or triple agent (“Triple, please," you can imagine him saying) the Burton character would have been barely free of his parachute harness before being placed under arrest. He would have been locked up on the basis of his appearance alone. Every other anachronism is explicable, within the screenplay’s purely cinematic parameters. In the German pub below the castle, Burton, Eastwood and the other agents---the others are notable chiefly for their expandability---talk very loudly in English. Yes, English is their chosen language when they discuss their plans about fooling the Germans, and they do not lower their voices when members of the garrison pass by closely behind them. It could be said, however, that a convention is being observed here, and that our agents are really speaking German. (It could also be said that if they were speaking German, the closely attendant Germans would be even more likely to notice that plans to fool them were being loudly discussed, but let that pass.) There is also the consideration that English seems to be the adopted language of every German in the area. Similarly, it could be put down to an equally hallowed cinematic convention when the German commandant arrives in the castle courtyard by helicopter. There were no operational helicopters in World War II, but there were no operational cannon ancient Rome either, and Shakespeare still put a few in. Shakespeare pioneered Hollywood's flexible attitude to temporal authenticity, as any what Hollywood mogul with a tertiary education will be glad to tell you. For every howler in the movie there is a good justification, the principal one being that the people who made the movie must have known it was howler, but correctly judged that nobody they cared about would notice. In the majority of big-budget war films since World War II, and all the small budget ones, the enemy has always fired a special kind of bullet that goes around, instead of through, the actors on our side, occasionally penetrating only at the shoulder or in a sexually neutral section of the upper thigh. In Sands of Iwo Jima John Wayne finally got killed by Japanese bullet while he was sitting down, but only after the Japanese machine gunners had vainly fired thousands of bullets at him when he was running very slowly. In Where Eagles Dare, whole German machine-gun nests equipped with multiple examples of the lethal MG42 (rate of fire: 1200 rounds per minute) are unable to graze Richard Burton's hairstyle. Big enough for slowly moving cow to graze it, for cinematic reasons it is impervious to speeding lead. But there are precedents for that. There is no precedent for the hairstyle per se. This is where the pundit clinches his seemingly open-and-shut case for Schnitzler’s flight into stupidity as the principal motivation of the film’s creators, or perpetrators. He might concede that some of the perps are technically clever, but in that case he will insist that there is still a collective purpose: the system itself. And he will be right, but not as right as he thinks. He has overlooked the factor of star power, which is what made him see the movie in the first place. Letting Burton keep his everyday or hairstyle was a studio’s only chance of getting them into this sector of World War II. (He kept a less a bit less of his thatch for his cameo appearance in The Longest Day, but it still wasn't buoyant enough to get him arrested by his own side, let alone by the enemy. ) And Burton wasn't being stupid either. He realized that the point was not to look like a British agent plausibly pretending to be a German officer: the point was to look like Richard Burton. The reality of star power depends on exactly that. Malleability is for actors. For screen stars, recognizability is what matters. Much later, and in a better movie, Robert Redford proved it all over again by declining at the last moment to adopt an English accent when he played Denys Finch Hatton in Out of Africa. He was right. Out of Africa was a serious venture, but it was still a blockbuster and it needed Redford as a draw on the marquee, not as a paragon of authenticity on the screen. Redford was content to leave all that to Meryl Streep and Klaus Maria Brandauer. He wasn't just content, he insisted. And it was by making such demands that he became Robert Redford. If we doubt the value of that, we should remember that he would never have been in a position to set up the Sundance Festival, and thus alter the whole course of independent and intelligent film-making in America, if he hadn't been Robert Redford in the first instance. He is a very clever man, and so, between drinks was Burton, who could recite English poetry by the mile. Burton was clever enough to intuit a deeply awkward truth, and incorporate it in the hairstyle he carried into action in one of the most lucrative movies he ever made. To one side of the world's great events, there is the interpretation of them. To one side of the interpretation, there is entertainment. And to one side of entertainment, there is absurdity. But if the absurdity is correctly judged, he will be found entertaining, even by those who are well aware of the real importance of the events being travestied. There can be a willing, mass participation in the flight into stupidity, because there can always be an agreed moment when the flight away from responsibility becomes irresistible. To pick that moment takes a kind of talent, it might be a spoiled talent, but mediocrity will never make it…’ Quite a bit remains within the remainder of this essay and for that matter the book in its entirety.
]]>Sat, 07 Jul 2007 18:51:00 GMTPuhnnerPuhnner Blog7/7/2007 2:51:00 PMIn Clive James recent book Cultural Amnesia; he writes about people who matter, most of them though, I am very sad and embarrassed to say, I never heard of ( for that matter, I just noticed that I had been reading his works for years in the New Yorker, but never noticed the &lsquo;by-line&rsquo; until the other day ) but well I should have. The book is set up in alphabetical order and its subjects include such persons as Louis Armstrong, Dick Cavett, Miles Davis, Sergei Diaghilev, Francois Furet, Chris Marker, Michael Mann, Thomas Mann, Erik Satie, Margaret Thatcher, Isoroku Yamamoto, Aleksandr Zinoviev, and many others. Each person&rsquo;s section begins with a brief biographical introduction followed by an essay of sorts on that particular person. The biographical information is terse and leaves a feeling of wanting to know much more of the person. The essays provide the most interest, relating the person in question with all sorts of other persons, other arts, and simple, often times intensely personal observations. I cannot say that I agree with all his observations, for who could ( I do not share his perception of John Coltrane&rsquo;s music and the music of that period of Jazz in particular that he sets down in his essay on Duke Ellington ) but there is certainly something about Clive James way of weaving one bit to another and another and another. A portion of the section on Arthur Schnitzler follows below and how James weaves an isolated quote into an examination of the manifest absurdity within the mentioned films, the blockbuster, a few actors ability and personal idiosyncrasies, the nature of a &lsquo;star&rsquo; to an actor, historic detail, and more&hellip; Of the great unknowns, Arthur Schnitzler (1862-1931) has his section and in the essay portion contains a marvelous review of sorts on &lsquo;Where Eagles Dare&rsquo; a wonderously hilarious World War II adventure. I quote at length ( it is lengthy but can be read in convenient sections without missing much at all ), because Clive James tells and writes it all so well: &lsquo;Arthur Schnitzler (1862-1931 ) was a giant of literary Vienna in its most fruitful era. A practicing physician before he turned professional writer, he brought a view steeped in the harsh realism of the consulting room and the surgery to his stories, novels, and plays. The most conspicuous, and most enduringly controversial, element in this clinical realism was his exploration of the erotic. As a physician he knew a lot about it at secondhand&hellip;&rsquo; &lsquo;there are all kinds of flight from responsibility. There is a flight into death, a flight into sickness, and finally a flight into stupidity. The last is the least dangerous and the most comfortable, since even for clever people the journey is not as long as they might fondly imagine.&rsquo;-Arthur Schnitzler, Buch Der Spruche und Bedenken, p. 78- &lsquo;&hellip; Schnitzler&rsquo;s flight into stupidity might look like the only explanation for the sort of newspapers, magazines, television programs and movies that make us ashamed to be living in the West. At first blush, the mass media seem to offer the ideal chance of examining stupidity in isolation. But once again, the trick is not easily worked. There is a possibility, amounting to a probability when the really big money is involved, that the stupidity is being manufactured by clever people whose commercial motives put their case, scope and integrity into abeyance. This non-anomaly becomes most obvious in the case of Hollywood's blockbuster movies, or the long haul of creative intelligence takes a spiral route towards the big haul at the box office. Every onlooker fancies his power of discrimination has a wonderful time when a blockbuster flops on the opening weekend. But the blockbuster that we actually have a wonderful time watching is a more equivocal case. Where Eagles Dare has always been my favorite example: since the day I first saw it, I've taken a sour delight rebutting pundits who so blithely assume that the obtuseness on screen merely reflects the stunted mentalities behind the camera, and I go on seeing its every rerun on television in order to reinforce my stock of telling detail---and, alright, in order to have a wonderful time. There's something precious about the intellectual squalor of Where Eagles Dare: it is a swamp with the surface of green pulp squeeze from emeralds. You can't get the same charge from Delta Force movies, or from the adventures of Jean-Claude Van Damme and the brainless universe where men with guns are helpless against a man fighting with his feet. Where Eagles Dare is the apex of a form: it shows that there is somewhere to go beyond The Guns of Navarone, a numbskull stratosphere in which not even The Wild Geese could fly. Where eagles dare, the sense of the ridiculous winks out to a dot, and the vision is filled with the vaulting pretensions of latter-day schoolmen who believe, if only ad hoc and pro tem, its cinematic sense can exist in vacuo: detached, that is, from any other sense; a voluntary brain-death. The whole complex phenomena is epitomized by Richard Burton's hairstyle. Schnitzler, let us remember, said that the flight into stupidity is a flight away from responsibility. But soaring beyond any human absurdity that even Schnitzler could imagine, Richard Burton's hairstyle in Where Eagles Dare is a flight into stupidity and away from the barber. Burton plays a British agent who is possibly also a German agent, although we can be fairly sure that he will turn out to be a British agent in the end, because Richard Burton's agent would never agree to a deal by which his client was shot at dawn. Burton the almost certainly British stage is sent, with Clint Eastwood and other agents---some of who actually do turn out to be German agents&mdash;on a mission to a castle deep behind German lines, there to rescue, or possibly confirm the credibility of, or perhaps betray the real identity of an actor pretending to be an American general in possession of the plans for a Second Front. The actor playing the actor need not detain us, and considering how he acts it is a wonder that the Germans have detained him. (There is a lot more to wonder about the behavior of the Germans, but we'll get to that later.) The actors who matter are Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood. Clint, already a top box office draw at the time, has been cast as a simple, straight-talking American assassin who helps a fiendishly ingenious British spy: it's the same relationship as Felix Leiter to James Bond, but beefed up to equal status to meet the requirements of the American marquee. Apart from saying "hello" so as to make Germans turn around before he shoots them with the silenced pistol---if he had merely mouthed "hello" before shooting them in the back, it would have been a different kind of movie, i.e., a realistic one ---Clint's character has nothing anachronistic about him except his cataleptic taciturnity, which we are glad to recognize as a minimally equipped actor's career-long habit of overdoing the understatement. Burton's own style of acting is equally dissonant with the time, but in the opposite direction: he always overdid the overstatement, and from the beginning to the end of his career on screen he looked exactly like a stage actor projecting to the upper circle, except when a director with animal-training skills (Martin Ritt in The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, to take one of the few examples) either whipped him into submission or else slipped a sedative into his morning triple. Burton always moved his lips so much when he enunciated that they would stick out past the end of his nose, and there are episodes in Where Eagles Dare in which they practically leave the frame, as if yet another triple was waiting out there, begging to be imbibed. It isn't the stuff he does with his face, however, that makes Burton look out of place in this castellated anteroom of World War II. It is the stuff on top of his head. It's his hairstyle. It was probably still all his own hair at that stage, but it's a hairstyle: an item, that is, which not even women found it easy to obtain during World War II, and which for men was unknown. (In the movie, Mary Ure has obviously taken a hairstylist into action with her, but we never see him: although if he'd wandered into a shot holding a crimping iron he would have looked no more futuristic than her miraculously smooth coiffure, shining with a blonde luster that Eva Braun, even with her connections, could only dream of.) The high command of the Romanian army did indeed issue an order that no officer below the rank of major could wear makeup, but the British army and the German army both made a policy of short back and sides for all ranks, and the German army was particularly close-cropped. Yet Burton, intending to be accepted as a German officer in order to penetrate the enemy redoubt, has gone to action sporting a page-boy hairstyle so fulsome that it spills abundant curls and waves below the back of his collar. Burton had a big head anyway. I interviewed him once, and found out why he always looks so stocky on screen: it was because his upper works were so broad you had to lean sideways to see past him. Even if close-shorn he would have had to wear a cap rare for its size in the whole of the Wehrmacht. But with his hairstyle added to his massive cranium, his cap has to be big enough for a buffalo, and it still does nothing to disguise---does a lot, indeed, to emphasize,--- the anomalous abundance of hair protruding at the back. On several occasions in the movie has to pass a German checkpoint, and you can only deduce that the garrison has been recruited from an institute to for the blind. Later in the war, when regular German forces were in a state of collapse, Volksstrum units were organized from the old, the adolescent, the lame and the sick, but I can't remember that very many sightless people were issued with the Panzerfaust and asked to shoot in the direction of the noise kicked up by Allied tanks. Here at the castle there is no discrimination against the optically handicapped. Whether as a single, double or triple agent (&ldquo;Triple, please," you can imagine him saying) the Burton character would have been barely free of his parachute harness before being placed under arrest. He would have been locked up on the basis of his appearance alone. Every other anachronism is explicable, within the screenplay&rsquo;s purely cinematic parameters. In the German pub below the castle, Burton, Eastwood and the other agents---the others are notable chiefly for their expandability---talk very loudly in English. Yes, English is their chosen language when they discuss their plans about fooling the Germans, and they do not lower their voices when members of the garrison pass by closely behind them. It could be said, however, that a convention is being observed here, and that our agents are really speaking German. (It could also be said that if they were speaking German, the closely attendant Germans would be even more likely to notice that plans to fool them were being loudly discussed, but let that pass.) There is also the consideration that English seems to be the adopted language of every German in the area. Similarly, it could be put down to an equally hallowed cinematic convention when the German commandant arrives in the castle courtyard by helicopter. There were no operational helicopters in World War II, but there were no operational cannon ancient Rome either, and Shakespeare still put a few in. Shakespeare pioneered Hollywood's flexible attitude to temporal authenticity, as any what Hollywood mogul with a tertiary education will be glad to tell you. For every howler in the movie there is a good justification, the principal one being that the people who made the movie must have known it was howler, but correctly judged that nobody they cared about would notice. In the majority of big-budget war films since World War II, and all the small budget ones, the enemy has always fired a special kind of bullet that goes around, instead of through, the actors on our side, occasionally penetrating only at the shoulder or in a sexually neutral section of the upper thigh. In Sands of Iwo Jima John Wayne finally got killed by Japanese bullet while he was sitting down, but only after the Japanese machine gunners had vainly fired thousands of bullets at him when he was running very slowly. In Where Eagles Dare, whole German machine-gun nests equipped with multiple examples of the lethal MG42 (rate of fire: 1200 rounds per minute) are unable to graze Richard Burton's hairstyle. Big enough for slowly moving cow to graze it, for cinematic reasons it is impervious to speeding lead. But there are precedents for that. There is no precedent for the hairstyle per se. This is where the pundit clinches his seemingly open-and-shut case for Schnitzler&rsquo;s flight into stupidity as the principal motivation of the film&rsquo;s creators, or perpetrators. He might concede that some of the perps are technically clever, but in that case he will insist that there is still a collective purpose: the system itself. And he will be right, but not as right as he thinks. He has overlooked the factor of star power, which is what made him see the movie in the first place. Letting Burton keep his everyday or hairstyle was a studio&rsquo;s only chance of getting them into this sector of World War II. (He kept a less a bit less of his thatch for his cameo appearance in The Longest Day, but it still wasn't buoyant enough to get him arrested by his own side, let alone by the enemy. ) And Burton wasn't being stupid either. He realized that the point was not to look like a British agent plausibly pretending to be a German officer: the point was to look like Richard Burton. The reality of star power depends on exactly that. Malleability is for actors. For screen stars, recognizability is what matters. Much later, and in a better movie, Robert Redford proved it all over again by declining at the last moment to adopt an English accent when he played Denys Finch Hatton in Out of Africa. He was right. Out of Africa was a serious venture, but it was still a blockbuster and it needed Redford as a draw on the marquee, not as a paragon of authenticity on the screen. Redford was content to leave all that to Meryl Streep and Klaus Maria Brandauer. He wasn't just content, he insisted. And it was by making such demands that he became Robert Redford. If we doubt the value of that, we should remember that he would never have been in a position to set up the Sundance Festival, and thus alter the whole course of independent and intelligent film-making in America, if he hadn't been Robert Redford in the first instance. He is a very clever man, and so, between drinks was Burton, who could recite English poetry by the mile. Burton was clever enough to intuit a deeply awkward truth, and incorporate it in the hairstyle he carried into action in one of the most lucrative movies he ever made. To one side of the world's great events, there is the interpretation of them. To one side of the interpretation, there is entertainment. And to one side of entertainment, there is absurdity. But if the absurdity is correctly judged, he will be found entertaining, even by those who are well aware of the real importance of the events being travestied. There can be a willing, mass participation in the flight into stupidity, because there can always be an agreed moment when the flight away from responsibility becomes irresistible. To pick that moment takes a kind of talent, it might be a spoiled talent, but mediocrity will never make it&hellip;&rsquo; Quite a bit remains within the remainder of this essay and for that matter the book in its entirety. http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/love/MemberTagFilms.aspxlove
Number of films tagged: 12478

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Number of times used: 1480

]]>Fri, 11 Dec 2009 01:28:29 GMT124783381480Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/romance/MemberTagFilms.aspxromance
Number of films tagged: 7161

Number of people who tagged: 169

Number of times used: 1003

]]>Fri, 11 Dec 2009 01:28:29 GMT71611691003Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/disturbing/MemberTagFilms.aspxdisturbing
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]]>Fri, 20 Mar 2009 23:37:37 GMT152106240Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/Boring/MemberTagFilms.aspxBoring
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]]>Tue, 29 Sep 2009 23:44:27 GMT177105207Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/masterpiece/MemberTagFilms.aspxmasterpiece
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]]>Sun, 29 Nov 2009 15:39:11 GMT347167267Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/epic/MemberTagFilms.aspxepic
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]]>Wed, 09 Dec 2009 05:08:37 GMT6358104Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/haunting/MemberTagFilms.aspxhaunting
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]]>Thu, 19 Nov 2009 00:30:05 GMT7946103Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/long/MemberTagFilms.aspxlong
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]]>Wed, 09 Dec 2009 05:08:36 GMT533563Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/Best-Picture/MemberTagFilms.aspxBest-Picture
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]]>Sun, 28 Jun 2009 22:16:34 GMT8326118Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/africa/MemberTagFilms.aspxafrica
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]]>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 04:19:34 GMT4902560Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/writing/MemberTagFilms.aspxwriting
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]]>Wed, 16 Sep 2009 21:17:22 GMT13002543Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/atmospheric/MemberTagFilms.aspxatmospheric
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]]>Sat, 26 Sep 2009 13:16:13 GMT21924Tag http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/adventurer/MemberTagFilms.aspxadventurer
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]]>Mon, 08 Jun 2009 13:02:54 GMT681814Tag