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The Robe on Reel 13

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The Robe (1953)

Reel 13 switches gears to religious epics – a popular (and expensive) genre of 1950’s Hollywood. The Robe, however, is a film that does not seem to have had as lasting an impact over the course of time as some of the others. Most audiences today are more likely to remember Ben-Hur, The Greatest Story Ever Told, The Bible or The Ten Commandments. However, The Robe was made earlier than all these films and seems to have paved the way for them, both stylistically and in terms of box office success. This is not to say that The Robe is a bad film, however. As a matter of fact, it was surprisingly good (though admittedly not as good as Ben-Hur or Commandments).

The main thing that makes the film hard to swallow perhaps is the device of the titular robe itself. The premise of the film is that this high born Roman tribune (Richard Burton) is given the dubious task of supervising the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. In the middle of the crucifixion, he wins the robe of Jesus Christ in a game of dice. Then, in the worst scene in the film, Burton puts on the robe to cover himself from the rain and it literally seems to burn him (Poor Burton – I can imagine him thinking – “do I really have to do this?”). Then, he starts to go mad and determines it is the robe that “bewitched” him. He spends the next twenty minutes on a quixotic quest to destroy the robe to save his sanity.

As silly as that sounds, Director Henry Koster (perhaps best known for Harvey – this was his most expensive endeavor) and his team of editors smartly wrap up the robe storyline as soon as possible and instead emphasize what I think is really interesting about the film – the story of the man who actually had to drive the nails through the flesh of Jesus Christ and his path to redemption for that massive sin. Once over that hump, the film finds its energy and its rhythm. It moves at a really good pace, managing to clock in at 135 minutes (long to us, but really short compared to some of its genre counterparts, which usually come in over 200 minutes). It is deeply religious and pious without ever seeming preachy or didactic and it features some outstanding production design. (Sidenote: The larger sets of old Hollywood are significantly preferable to me than the digital backgrounds of today as seen in 300 or Beowulf. As artificial as we know they are, they are at least three-dimensional and in many ways are more realistic to me than the CG variety. Of modern filmmakers, only Tim Burton seems to grasp this concept).

In one of the early starring roles of his career (this is his probably his second major role, after My Cousin Rachel, also directed by Koster), Burton is really good in any scene in which he does not have to interact with a robe. Even at this young age, his speaking voice is probably his best asset – it is powerful, commanding and hypnotic. I could write an entire twenty page essay on Jean Simmons, who is transcendent, as usual, in this limited role as Burton’s love interest, Diana. The love story itself is a little thin (it relies on some backstory that while clever, is given to us a little too quickly to take root in our hearts), but Simmons makes it work by her intelligence and commitment. In a genre that often portrays women as two-dimensional objects of affection, Simmons gives her character an edge – an uncommon savviness that makes her all the more alluring – an accomplishment that she will trump herself when she treads familiar ground seven years later in Spartacus. (Sidenote #2: In seeing her again, I’ve decided that I think she is my second favorite all-time female movie star – right behind Ginger Rogers and right ahead of her frequent competitor – Vivien Leigh. Come to think of it, I think I would have rather lived in 1953. Wouldn’t you rather have young, beautiful stars like Jean Simmons and Elizabeth Taylor instead of Lindsay Lohan and Jessica Alba?)

I cannot be so kind, however, to Victor Mature, who plays the supporting role of Greek slave Demetrius, who becomes a friend to Burton’s tribune. Mature represents much of what modern audiences dislike about older films, which basically boils down to some bad overacting. To make matters worse, he seems really out of place in this, a period piece. Let’s face it – some guys look good in skirts. Burton, Douglas, Brynner and Heston can all pull it off. With his football-player build and his unease with his own body, Mature looks foolish and lumbering (Can you believe they actually made a sequel to The Robe following Mature’s character, entitled Demetrius and the Gladiators. I’m SO glad that’s not on the Reel 13 schedule). Speaking of overacting, Jay Robinson is equally bad as the Emperor Caligula. Why is it that tyrannical Roman emperors are constantly portrayed in films of the era as screeching effeminate whiny bitches (Roddy McDowell in Cleopatra is another example)? What’s wrong with the idea of strong-willed, intelligent villains a la Olivier in Spartacus? Wouldn’t that me significantly more compelling? (Sidenote #3: I have less of an issue the effeminate aspect of that I do the spineless aspect. Peter Ustinov was fabulous as the effeminate and narcissistic Nero in Quo Vadis. However, I do think the connection between effemininity and evil in some of these films can be construed as offensive).

Finally, a thought about the presentation of The Robe on Channel 13. This is the first of the films aired to really suffer from the pan and scan technique. Koster frequently (and admirably) uses the edges of the frame and why wouldn’t he – he was shooting in Cinemascope. However, on Channel 13, the effect is dulled and in several scenes, you could only see half of the actor speaking. It makes you wonder how much else we missed from the pan and scan. I only mention it to suggest that Channel 13 might want to consider widescreen presentations going forward, particularly since Reel 13 is supposed to be a celebration of the cinematic art form. It makes sense to see the work in the way the director intended.

Posted Friday, January 25, 2008 3:59 PM by jjgittes | with 0 comments

Rage in Placid Lake on Reel 13

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The Rage In Placid Lake (2003)

Aha! After last week's debacle with American Wake, I was starting to worry that the Reel 13 Indies were going to be a series of below average films that didn't receive more significant distribution for a reason (i.e. they stunk). But HERE - here they have found a diamond in the rough – that long lost indie gem that slipped through the cracks and failed to reach a wider audience. This, of course, leads me to two questions: 1) Who at Fox Searchlight or Focus Features went to somebody's bar mitzvah instead of a screening of this film allowing Film Movement to pick it up? and 2) Why in the hell didn't Reel 13 debut with this film instead of American Wake? (Sidenote: Another option would have been to air it on 2/2/08 when Reel 13 is showing Rebel Without a Cause – this would have been a PERFECT companion piece for that – why aren't they looking at content when pairing these films???)

The first thing you need to know about The Rage in Placid Lake is that it's an Australian film. The second thing you need to know is that it stars that country's quirky rock/folk icon, Ben Lee (you may have noticed that I recently added one of his songs to the MySpace page – it's pretty good…). The film starts out with a five year-old Placid Lake being sent to school in a dress by his granola, new wave bisexual mother (Miranda Richardson) to challenge the other students' preconceived notions of sexuality or something like that. It's a very clever idea and very efficient – with a few simple images, it establishes Placid, his family and the series of problems he is likely to have when he grows up into Ben Lee.

The film is full of moments like this – visual, clever ideas that optimize screen time to push the story forward (There is a great dream scene in which Placid plays his own therapist and they discuss his life predicament and action steps to resolve it – more films need to be creative like this when it comes to exposition). There are not many belly laughs, per se, but the film is consistently amusing, often inspired and always irreverent. The script is really strong – structured without feeling manipulative and resisting the urge for sitcom-type "set-'em-up, slam it home" humor. There are a few minor contrivances (Placid's corporate job interview is a bit too easy) and there is a heavy reliance on voiceover, especially in the beginning (I am particularly biased against the over usage of VO – that and dissolves – but I won't get into that here. We could be here all day…), but on the whole, the film works on many levels.

Ben Lee is amiable and pleasant as the titular character. He has the charm, if not the chops. If you're looking for chops, look no further than Miranda Richardson as Sylvia Lake, reminding us why she was the Brit femme du jour of the early 90's when she received two Oscar nominations in a three year period (for Damage and Tom and Viv) before she faded into occasional obscure roles on BBC TV movies. Hopefully that won't be the same fate for Rose Byrne, who has the unique distinction of being the best thing in two very bad movies (Troy and Wicker Park). Byrne gives her best performance to date as Placid's genius best friend, Gemma. Byrne can't hide her sexiness (she was innocuously sexy as both a spunky slave girl and a psychotic stalker in the previously mentioned films), but she can (and does) layer it with intelligence, wit, (appropriate) pathos, and an emotional confusion that, to some degree, stems from her inability to reconcile her smarts with her sexuality.

The most memorable part of the film for me, though, involves the performance of Christopher Stollery as Joel, Placid's supervisor at his corporate insurance job. This has as much to do with Stollery's impeccable delivery and timing as it does the very concept behind the role itself. Joel becomes an unwitting, somewhat accidental surrogate father/big-brother to Placid - almost like a corporate soothsayer, whose advice is generally as much a surprise to the giver as it is to the recipient. This is a great, original narrative device invented by writer/director Tony McNamara who uses it consistently and effectively to steer the story in one direction or another.

As excited as I am that Reel 13 discovered and aired this film, I am somewhat appalled that it didn't receive domestic theatrical distribution. This isn't just a good little indie film – this is a good film in general and had it been released in 2003, it would have stood a good chance of making a few top ten lists that year, including my own. I understand that Ben Lee was less of a sellable commodity at the time and that Australian films are not in high demand, but successes like My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Bend it Like Beckham and Napoleon Dynamite prove that there is a market for more varied entertainment. We can only hope that the next hidden gem like The Rage in Placid Lake gets the kind of attention it deserves.

Posted Friday, January 18, 2008 2:08 PM by jjgittes | with 0 comments

A Shot in the Dark on Reel 13 - 1/12/08

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A Shot in the Dark (1964)

A SHOT IN THE DARK is, for all intents and purposes, the second installment in the "Pink Panther" film series, in that it features Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau. However, it was not originally meant to be so (Many people don't remember that "the pink panther" is actually not a nickname for Clouseau's character, but is actually a diamond – that obscure object of desire – in the first film). As a matter of fact, the film is based on a modern stage play (which in turn was based on an older French farce) that didn't feature Clouseau at all. As the story goes, the script adaptation had taken on many incarnations until director Blake Edwards (a.k.a. Mr. Julie Andrews) got a hold of it and decided it would be a good vehicle for Sellers' bumbling French detective. He and co-writer William Peter Blatty (perhaps best known for writing THE EXORCIST – an eclectic career, right?) turned the play upside down to make room for Clouseau. What's particularly interesting about that is that the original Pink Panther film hadn't even been released yet. A SHOT IN THE DARK was released only three months after the "original" and was far more successful. Additionally, the film introduced series mainstays Kato and Inspector Dreyfus and so even though it doesn't feature the cartoon Pink Panther at all nor makes any reference to the eponymous diamond, it is largely considered to be the primary example of the Clouseau films and certainly served as more of a structural boilerplate for the subsequent films than The Pink Panther.

It is also probably the best film in the series. As much as I enjoy The Pink Panther and The Return of the Pink Panther, this is the film that stands out in my mind as being the most artfully crafted and also, the funniest. As a matter of fact, I can't think of anything negative to say about the film (I suppose I could suggest that love interest Elke Sommer isn't a very good actress, but honestly, I'm not sure she needs to be very good to fulfill her purpose in the film). It is consistently sharp, smart and entertaining and as far as I'm concerned, the main figure responsible for this is Blake Edwards.

This is not to take anything away from Peter Sellers. There is no question that Sellers is a one of a kind talent (actually, Alec Guinness might have been that good as well… Any thoughts?) and is the engine that makes the film(s) go. But if Sellers is the engine, then Edwards is the driver behind the wheel, gently steering his powerful machine to maximize its potential. When I watched the film again last night on Reel 13, I was amazed at how cleverly detailed it was – the kind of detail that elevates a film to a whole other level – and that all falls on Edwards.

For example, in the first interrogation scene with Maurice the butler and Elke Sommer's suspect/maid Maria Gambrelli, watch carefully the progression of Clouseau's hat – as it subtly makes its way from person to person, signifying their lack of respect for the detective. There are no close-ups of the hat or the exchanges, nor are there significant pauses/looks to call attention to what's going on. It is a simple added element to the scene that turns a mostly expositional scene into something beautiful and hilarious (an old teacher of mine would call this a "nickel" – if you're interested in understanding where that term comes from, shoot me an email/comment and I'll explain…).

There are tons of little moments like that in the film (note the pic in the office with Clouseau and Charles deGaulle or the way in which Sellers is off one number when he counts the points of the case with his fingers, i.e. holding up five fingers when he makes point 4), but there are also several other stylistic things that Edwards does to the benefit of the piece. For example, I was surprised how few close-ups there were in the film. Edwards stays back and lets the action unfold before you. It can be construed as a bit theatrical, but frequent camera movement belies that theory. Edwards doesn't force your attention on anything in particular and as a result, we, the audience, work harder to scan the frame and take in all the information (read: details) being presented. (He brilliantly saves a close-up for a scene toward the end in which Clouseau raises an eyebrow and confidently/heroically arches an eyebrow and announces that he has a plan. By avoiding close-ups through most of the film, this moment has greater comedic impact).

Also, the film is a masterpiece of timing, which many would argue is at the heart of any good comedy. And I don't mean just dialogue timing (although Sellers is great about waiting just long enough to deliver the second half of many of his sentences). What I am actually referring to is the timing of the blocking – it's often impeccable. There are a few scenes (rooted in traditional farce) in which Clouseau walks out of the room, just missing what he was looking for walking in another door behind him. And of course, all the slapstick would be shticky if not for Edwards deft hand and careful staging.

Perhaps my favorite moment in the film is another example of great timing. Towards the end of the film, many of the murder suspects argue amongst themselves. Clouseau tries to intervene, but cannot. He inexplicably (and brilliantly) breaks the fourth wall and looks into the camera with a countenance of such frustration – it makes me belly laugh each time – and I've seen it a dozen times now. It's an equally insane and inspired choice – funny because of its unexpectedness, but also because of the way the scene is staged – shutting out Clouseau from the proceedings so that he becomes a spectator – just like us

Posted Friday, January 18, 2008 2:00 PM by jjgittes | with 0 comments

The Paper Chase on Reel 13

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The Paper Chase (1973)

The programmers at Channel 13 (PBS in NYC) made an interesting choice to kick off their new (and kind of exciting) Reel 13 project in selecting James Bridges' 1973 paean to law school THE PAPER CHASE. I realize that 2008 marks the 35th anniversary of the film, but if it's anniversaries they're interested in, why not select a film with a little more punch – say THE STING or AMERICAN GRAFFITI – or even if they wanted to go back 50 years to show us GIGI or VERTIGO – something that opens this new initiative with a bang.

But THE PAPER CHASE is what we got and so THE PAPER CHASE is what we'll deal with. I hadn't seen THE PAPER CHASE since I was fourteen years old or so and mostly remembered it as being boring and a little dull. I was excited to re-watch it on Reel 13 because I felt that now, as a more educated and hopefully more sophisticated viewer, I could fully appreciate it for the important work of art that it was supposed to be, but…no – it's still pretty boring.

I don't mean to be flip about it. The more educated version of myself can now see why the film didn't work for me and ultimately, I think it boils down to the episodic nature of the piece. The film follows first year law student James T. Hart (Timothy Bottoms) on a series of misadventures and anecdotes mostly revolving around his borderline obsession with one of his professors, but also dabbles in his relationship with a local woman he meets, the lives of some of his fellow students, the pressure of finals, etc., etc. There are a number of good and interesting scenes in The Paper Chase (I particularly like the scene on the frozen lake and most of the study group scenes), but as a whole, they don't add up to much. The film doesn't have a sufficient overall arc or thru line and the result is a jumpy and disjointed narrative.

Part and parcel with all that is the trouble with the romantic relationship between Hart and Susan, as played by Lindsay Wagner (who two years later would become television's original Bionic Woman). Firstly, they meet when Susan comes up to him randomly and abruptly on some Boston street and asks him to walk her to the corner because someone's following her. And he says he'll walk her all the way home. What??!?? Are you kidding? This is how our romantic leads meet? Then, on the walk home (we never see the alleged stalker, btw) all he does is ramble and babble about law school – the Bionic Woman looks (appropriately) bored and disinterested. A few scenes later, he lurks outside her house, builds up the courage to knock on the door and she instantly invites him in. Cut to a light turning on when they are naked in bed. I mean, really??? I know the seventies where freewheeling and everything, but this is ridiculous (or am I the only person that these things don't happen to?). And then, in this post-coital scene, he starts philosophizing about law school AGAIN. I swear – the BW has only had two or three lines of dialogue to this point. And wouldn't you know it, guess who's daughter Susan turns out to be? It's contrivances like those that can ruin a script/film. Furthermore, I have long maintained that writers and filmmakers need to take the time to build a foundation for the important romantic relationships in a film. We need to understand and feel why two people like each other and are together. Bottoms and The Bionic Woman have absolutely zero chemistry together as actors and neither is their relationship strongly supported by the script. As one of the key (albeit tenuous) conflicts in the film is the balance between Hart's romance with Susan and his pursuit of good grades at Harvard Law School, the lack of effort put into the former does serious damage to the overall impact of the film. (Sidenote: The relationship had some potential in the sense that both characters seemed to be separately obsessed with the same person. I thought this was kind of an interesting (and unique) idea and a potential building block for them, but the film doesn't capitalize on it nearly enough, instead letting it linger drifting in space).

The film is mostly remembered for the performance by John Houseman as Professor Kingsfield. He won many accolades for the performance, including the Academy Award as Best Supporting Actor of the year. Now, Mr. Houseman's performance is fine – after all, he was a stodgy and imperious professor at Julliard for twenty years before this so playing a stodgy and imperious professor at Harvard was hardly a stretch (as Neal Gabler jocularly hinted at during his opening remarks) – and he has a lot of snappy, quotable lines of dialogue. However, I hardly felt he was Oscar-worthy. Houseman won the Oscar because he was a legendary theater producer and director (he worked with Orson Welles and the Mercury Theater, etc.) and it was a fun story that he was making his acting debut at the age of 71. If you really look back at that year, I think you have to say that the best supporting performance was Jason Miller as Father Damien in THE EXORCIST. I mean, he was amazing – subtle and displayed lots of range. I would even rank Robert Shaw in THE STING, Jack Gilford in SAVE THE TIGER and hell, even, Paul LeMat in AMERICAN GRAFFITI all above Houseman here. (Does anybody have any thoughts on this? I'd love to have a revisionist Oscar vote here – weigh in with your comments and postings on the Best Supporting Actor of 1973 if you get a chance).

The real performance of the movie, if you ask me, is actually Bottoms. He gives an extremely assured, textured and perhaps most importantly, quirky performance as Hart. Furthermore, he proves here that his poetic, lovely work as Sonny in THE LAST PICTURE SHOW (Peter Bogdonavich, 1971) was no fluke. He constantly makes unique, but inspired choices in both his deliveries and his gestures. He paints a multi-layered picture of Hart that feels real because it's so complex – he manages to navigate his way through the disjointedness of the narrative by making Hart equally inconsistent – and I mean that in a good way. Hart's intelligence, stupidity, passion, apathy, rage and humor all seem to come from the same place, the same core – variations on a theme, if you will. Though that may seem paradoxical, the point is that many actors play the emotion instead of playing the person who feels that emotion. Bottoms achieves the latter and it's just that quality that makes him more identifiable and ultimately, more likeable in spite of his character's faults. (Sidenote 2: I was so impressed with the performance that I asked myself (though not aloud): "What the hell happened to Timothy Bottoms?" After all, in PICTURE SHOW and PAPER CHASE, he displays Ryan Gosling-like promise. Well, a little research showed that he has been working consistently since then, just not in projects that were as high profile – a lot of television work, etc. Actually, his bread and butter lately seems to be playing our current president in several different projects – some real, some spoofs. As to the question of why he was unable to really fulfill the aforementioned promise he displayed, I still haven't been able to figure that out. Perhaps one of you have some insight into this…)

I'd be remiss to close out the blog without mentioning the excellence of the cinematography. I didn't pay attention or missed during the opening credits who it was, but when I looked it up, I was not surprised. Gordon Willis (THE GODFATHER, ANNIE HALL), or as I like to call him – GWill – is one of the best cinematographers ever to have lived, perhaps best known for his ability to underexpose just so to create mood and texture. That technique is on ample display here as well, but I also wanted to point out that the composition, for the most part, was outstanding. Nice, not-overly done low angles on Kingsfield, scenes courageously played entirely in picturesque wide shots, frequent use of frames within frames all contribute to the staid, realistic and yet still beautiful look of the film.

Earlier, I mentioned that the primary detractor of THE PAPER CHASE was its failure to come together as a cohesive whole due to an "episodic nature". Well, apparently, someone else recognized this as well and turned the film into a syndicated television show, which featured Houseman reprising his role. I, personally, have never seen the show (has anyone?), but it certainly seems like a better fit for the material. Actually, upon learning that, my wheels starting to turn. (Television executives, listen up!) What about bringing back THE PAPER CHASE series with Timothy Bottoms (rescue him from playing GWB) as an older Hart – and as the new professor? Come on, this SCREAMS of possibility. Maybe we can even get the Bionic Woman to fly in for a guest appearance and she can rescue Hart from a raging inferno on campus or something (I can picture him babbling on to her about his struggles to get through to his students while the fire burns around them). Can I see a show of hands? Who WOULDN'T watch this show???

Posted Friday, January 11, 2008 4:32 PM by jjgittes | with 0 comments

"American Wake" on Reel 13

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American Wake (2004)

So, did y'all watch American Wake the other night – Channel 13's first independent narrative film airing as a part of their Reel 13 project? Right away, it lost points with me just by virtue of it taking place in Boston (I am of the opinion that nothing good comes out of Boston, except maybe Gone Baby Gone). Beyond that, pretty much all my thoughts on the film can be summed up in one word – awkward. Awkward blocking, awkward transitions, awkward beats, awkward accents, awkward shot selection, awkward framing – the list goes on and on.

This awkwardness is a common trait amongst low-budget films and many people assume that it's caused by the financial limitations the filmmakers faced. I would argue, however, that there is a difference between the "awkwardness" I am talking about and the somewhat more forgivable type of "emptiness" that is a result of insignificant funding. As a matter of fact, American Wake manages to avoid some of those typical low-budget pitfalls – many of the scenes are actually quite "full" – the public scenes are rife with extras and the more private scenes have plenty of appropriate production design elements to add to the verisimilitude. No, the kind of awkwardness I'm talking about can be avoided at any budget level – it relates to the way in which the story unfolds and the relationship between the actors and the camera – it is the kind of awkwardness that results from ineffective direction.

The auteur theory suggests that the director of a film is the "author" of any given film and is responsible for all the final creative decisions. While there is some truth in that, anybody that's ever worked on a film (especially an indie) will tell you that filmmaking is one of the most collaborative art forms ever conceived and many times, criticism (or praise) of an individual director is unwarranted. However, one of the primary responsibilities of the film director is to use the tools at his or her disposal to create a believable world inhabited by believable characters. If this is not achieved, it doesn't matter how beautiful the setting, the lighting or the music are – you've lost your audience. American Wake struggles to accomplish this and the breakdown begins with the lost art of blocking for the camera.

It is a skill that many film classes/programs fail to spend too much time on, which is a shame, because it's probably the most basic skill required for a filmmaker. There are several occasions in American Wake in which character movement feels too "staged", i.e. forced or the actors are not blocked in such a way that works for the camera (this point is more of a tightrope because you don't want to force the actors into a good frame – you want them to seem to fall naturally into a good frame. However, you certainly don't want to block them purposely into a below average frame, as is often the case here).

An example of this awkwardness would be a scene in which the character of Noy (Elaine Qualter) is walking through a long hallway, ostensibly in her apartment that I guess she shares with a bunch of people. The camera tracks back with her as she goes from room to room to room and as she goes, she has to maneuver around several different questionable people (roommates?) just to get out. However, the way in which the crossers pass her – one at a time, several beats apart and seemingly always in one of the many doorways – seems awfully staged and unnatural. The point of the shot is to display the inadequate living conditions that Noy has to deal with, but the point is made within five seconds of the forty-five second shot – a waste of precious screen time. One might assume that the filmmakers were so enamored with the dolly (or Steadicam) shot that they didn't realize that there wasn't enough information being given to warrant the length or nature of the shot.

There are a few other scenes also with superfluous camera movement. There are also a few scenes that don't begin until after we cut into them. In other words, we will cut to a scene, see the actors almost frozen (not like a statue, but they just aren't doing anything), there would be a beat, and then they would begin the scene. You want to cut into a scene in the middle of the action – not so that the viewer misses anything – but so to give the impression that life was moving forward before we, the viewer, arrived here (and will continue to move after we are whisked away). On the flip side of that same idea, there are scenes in which the characters stay still to have their dialogue scene and then begin an action once the conversation is completed. The more natural way to approach this is to have the actors doing something during the required conversation. (A common example of this in many films, including this one, is scenes in a parked car. Actors will have a conversation and not start the car until the scene is done. Who does this in real life? We have conversations while driving and so should the characters in films. Honestly, if you can't afford a car rig, stage the scene elsewhere). I could provide several examples from American Wake of each of these things, but will refrain for now in the interest of brevity (If you are interested in hearing more examples, let me know and I can discuss them at a later time).

There's one other big issue with American Wake and it comes down to another word - why? Why this story? Why does it need to be told? Why will it interest us? And the biggest of all – why two separate stories that don't seem to connect? The film follows the romance between firefighter Jack and grocery clerk/kleptomaniac Noy AND the romance between fiddler/fisherman Niall and fish store clerk/painter Ava. The two couples never intersect. Furthermore, the only thing that even remotely connects them (aside from being in Boston, of course) is the fact that one member of each couple is not native born (Niall from Ireland, Noy from Thailand) and that's a tenuous connection, at best. One relationship is hard enough to do right, let alone two (Note: all four characters are ambitiously given nearly equal screen time). The result of spreading screen time amongst all those characters is that each one feels underdeveloped.

The credits give us a little insight into how this came to be. For example, the actor playing Jack (Billy Smith) was also one of the credited writers. Hmmm…it's a safe presumption then that he (co)wrote this leading role for himself (a dangerous prospect in and of itself). Secondly, the character of Niall, played by Sam Amidon, is a damn good fiddler and it in no way looks fake. Finding someone to play an Irish music fiddler that also has some acting ability is no easy task. Therefore, I am also going to assume (a bit more of a leap, but an educated hypothesis nonetheless) that Mr. Amidon was a known quantity as well, and his role was similarly crafted to feature his talents. So, here we are: aspiring filmmakers with access to the rough charm of Billy Smith and the fiddling of Sam Amidon. It's only natural to then try and weave a narrative around these pre-existing assets – many low-budget filmmakers have done the same thing. But it's a trap (I know, I know – there are a few success stories, but it is rare). I feel strongly that you can't put your cart before the horse when writing a screenplay and American Wake is an excellent example of the results of this backwards method. If you put too many parameters on a story like this (low-budget filmmaking creates enough limitations on its own), you are not allowing the story to grow organically and you wind up with, well, an awkward narrative. While the heart of American Wake is in the right place, it winds up sinking under the weight of its own ambitions.

Posted Friday, January 11, 2008 3:50 PM by jjgittes | with 0 comments

The Paper Chase on Reel 13

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The programmers at Channel 13 in New York made an interesting choice to kick off their new (and kind of exciting) Reel 13 (check out Reel 13.org) project in selecting James Bridges' 1973 paean to law school THE PAPER CHASE. I realize that 2008 marks the 35th anniversary of the film, but if it's anniversaries they're interested in, why not select a film with a little more punch – say THE STING or AMERICAN GRAFFITI – or even if they wanted to go back 50 years to show us GIGI or VERTIGO – something that opens this new initiative with a bang.

But THE PAPER CHASE is what we got and so THE PAPER CHASE is what we'll deal with. I hadn't seen THE PAPER CHASE since I was fourteen years old or so and mostly remembered it as being boring and a little dull. I was excited to re-watch it on Reel 13 because I felt that now, as a more educated and hopefully more sophisticated viewer, I could fully appreciate it for the important work of art that it was supposed to be, but…no – it's still pretty boring.

I don't mean to be flip about it. The more educated version of myself can now see why the film didn't work for me and ultimately, I think it boils down to the episodic nature of the piece. The film follows first year law student James T. Hart (Timothy Bottoms) on a series of misadventures and anecdotes mostly revolving around his borderline obsession with one of his professors, but also dabbles in his relationship with a local woman he meets, the lives of some of his fellow students, the pressure of finals, etc., etc. There are a number of good and interesting scenes in The Paper Chase (I particularly like the scene on the frozen lake and most of the study group scenes), but as a whole, they don't add up to much. The film doesn't have a sufficient overall arc or thru line and the result is a jumpy and disjointed narrative.

Part and parcel with all that is the trouble with the romantic relationship between Hart and Susan, as played by Lindsay Wagner (who two years later would become television's original Bionic Woman). Firstly, they meet when Susan comes up to him randomly and abruptly on some Boston street and asks him to walk her to the corner because someone's following her. And he says he'll walk her all the way home. What??!?? Are you kidding? This is how our romantic leads meet? Then, on the walk home (we never see the alleged stalker, btw) all he does is ramble and babble about law school – the Bionic Woman looks (appropriately) bored and disinterested. A few scenes later, he lurks outside her house, builds up the courage to knock on the door and she instantly invites him in. Cut to a light turning on when they are naked in bed. I mean, really??? I know the seventies where freewheeling and everything, but this is ridiculous (or am I the only person that these things don't happen to?). And then, in this post-coital scene, he starts philosophizing about law school AGAIN. I swear – the BW has only had two or three lines of dialogue to this point. And wouldn't you know it, guess who's daughter Susan turns out to be? It's contrivances like those that can ruin a script/film. Furthermore, I have long maintained that writers and filmmakers need to take the time to build a foundation for the important romantic relationships in a film. We need to understand and feel why two people like each other and are together. Bottoms and The Bionic Woman have absolutely zero chemistry together as actors and neither is their relationship strongly supported by the script. As one of the key (albeit tenuous) conflicts in the film is the balance between Hart's romance with Susan and his pursuit of good grades at Harvard Law School, the lack of effort put into the former does serious damage to the overall impact of the film. (Sidenote: The relationship had some potential in the sense that both characters seemed to be separately obsessed with the same person. I thought this was kind of an interesting (and unique) idea and a potential building block for them, but the film doesn't capitalize on it nearly enough, instead letting it linger drifting in space).

The film is mostly remembered for the performance by John Houseman as Professor Kingsfield. He won many accolades for the performance, including the Academy Award as Best Supporting Actor of the year. Now, Mr. Houseman's performance is fine – after all, he was a stodgy and imperious professor at Julliard for twenty years before this so playing a stodgy and imperious professor at Harvard was hardly a stretch (as Neal Gabler jocularly hinted at during his opening remarks) – and he has a lot of snappy, quotable lines of dialogue. However, I hardly felt he was Oscar-worthy. Houseman won the Oscar because he was a legendary theater producer and director (he worked with Orson Welles and the Mercury Theater, etc.) and it was a fun story that he was making his acting debut at the age of 71. If you really look back at that year, I think you have to say that the best supporting performance was Jason Miller as Father Damien in THE EXORCIST. I mean, he was amazing – subtle and displayed lots of range. I would even rank Robert Shaw in THE STING, Jack Gilford in SAVE THE TIGER and hell, even, Paul LeMat in AMERICAN GRAFFITI all above Houseman here. (Does anybody have any thoughts on this? I'd love to have a revisionist Oscar vote here – weigh in with your comments and postings on the Best Supporting Actor of 1973 if you get a chance).

The real performance of the movie, if you ask me, is actually Bottoms. He gives an extremely assured, textured and perhaps most importantly, quirky performance as Hart. Furthermore, he proves here that his poetic, lovely work as Sonny in THE LAST PICTURE SHOW (Peter Bogdonavich, 1971) was no fluke. He constantly makes unique, but inspired choices in both his deliveries and his gestures. He paints a multi-layered picture of Hart that feels real because it's so complex – he manages to navigate his way through the disjointedness of the narrative by making Hart equally inconsistent – and I mean that in a good way. Hart's intelligence, stupidity, passion, apathy, rage and humor all seem to come from the same place, the same core – variations on a theme, if you will. Though that may seem paradoxical, the point is that many actors play the emotion instead of playing the person who feels that emotion. Bottoms achieves the latter and it's just that quality that makes him more identifiable and ultimately, more likeable in spite of his character's faults. (Sidenote 2: I was so impressed with the performance that I asked myself (though not aloud): "What the hell happened to Timothy Bottoms?" After all, in PICTURE SHOW and PAPER CHASE, he displays Ryan Gosling-like promise. Well, a little research showed that he has been working consistently since then, just not in projects that were as high profile – a lot of television work, etc. Actually, his bread and butter lately seems to be playing our current president in several different projects – some real, some spoofs. As to the question of why he was unable to really fulfill the aforementioned promise he displayed, I still haven't been able to figure that out. Perhaps one of you have some insight into this…)

I'd be remiss to close out the blog without mentioning the excellence of the cinematography. I didn't pay attention or missed during the opening credits who it was, but when I looked it up, I was not surprised. Gordon Willis (THE GODFATHER, ANNIE HALL), or as I like to call him – GWill – is one of the best cinematographers ever to have lived, perhaps best known for his ability to underexpose just so to create mood and texture. That technique is on ample display here as well, but I also wanted to point out that the composition, for the most part, was outstanding. Nice, not-overly done low angles on Kingsfield, scenes courageously played entirely in picturesque wide shots, frequent use of frames within frames all contribute to the staid, realistic and yet still beautiful look of the film.

Earlier, I mentioned that the primary detractor of THE PAPER CHASE was its failure to come together as a cohesive whole due to an "episodic nature". Well, apparently, someone else recognized this as well and turned the film into a syndicated television show, which featured Houseman reprising his role. I, personally, have never seen the show (has anyone?), but it certainly seems like a better fit for the material. Actually, upon learning that, my wheels starting to turn. (Television executives, listen up!) What about bringing back THE PAPER CHASE series with Timothy Bottoms (rescue him from playing GWB) as an older Hart – and as the new professor? Come on, this SCREAMS of possibility. Maybe we can even get the Bionic Woman to fly in for a guest appearance and she can rescue Hart from a raging inferno on campus or something (I can picture him babbling on to her about his struggles to get through to his students while the fire burns around them). Can I see a show of hands? Who WOULDN'T watch this show???

Posted Monday, January 07, 2008 2:57 PM by jjgittes | with 0 comments