Reel Thoughts

Under discussion:

The Abyss  (1989)

In my DVD library, scifi and fantasy are held in high esteem and are arranged separately, from each other as genres and from the rest of the bunch, so that I can easily peruse them when I am getting the fix to watch something in either genre.  After watching Willow, my eyes traveled over both genre collections and landed on this movie from 1989.  For some reason, I had to pull it out and watch it again, likely because it had been a few years since I saw it last.

Funny thing about the Abyss and my love for it: I think it's a great little film for what it is, which I will talk about in a bit.  Yet, in order for the film to really work for me, I can't watch it repeatedly, over and over.  I've seen the movie, perhaps, five times, all of which have been spread over the course of the years since its release.  The Abyss works as a film, in my estimation, primarily for one reason--namely, the moods and atmosphere created by story and concept: tension, intensity, and even some spookiness associated with the underwater backdrop.  To his credit, director James Cameron is something of an expert at fostering these emotions in the viewer. 

Yes, that's right.  If you don't know or remember, Cameron directed this flick.  I know that the reviews of him as a director are about as mixed as those of this film itself.  Even the naysayers, however, have to acknowledge that Mr. Cameron is a master at certain media, particularly science fiction.  Titanic and "king of the world" aside, he's directed some popular films with mass appeal (and they appeal to me too), including Aliens and the first two Terminator films.  Whatever his faults or deficiencies, I think he's adept at probing, even skewering, ordinary human emotions in extraordinary circumstances.  He's also adept at weaving a good yarn, and I like this movie because the Abyss is truly an original, imaginative story that makes you think, even if that thought is spent only on imagining the possibilities of exploring the depths of sea and earth where virtually no human has traveled.  This movie is, in many ways, a redesigned 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea with a modern twist.

Virgil "Bud" Brigman (Ed Harris) is the leader of a motley crew of underwater oil-drillers who live and work in an experimental submersible oil rig, which resides at depths of several hundred feet below surface, designed by Bud's soon-to-be-ex-wife Lindsay (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio).  The prickly pair must reunite, as the company sponsoring the dig cooperates with the military, which is looking for a downed Russian craft.  Problems arise when a hurricane damages the umbilical connecting the rig to a stable ship above-water.  The rig team, trapped as they are, must weather the storm, except that strange things begin to happen below the depths, leading to an unlikely fight for survival.

Again, like some other films I appreciate, this is not the greatest film ever created.  It has its flaws.  The ending is a little hokey, and an unlikely and, perhaps, contrived series of events occurs before your disbeilef is completely suspended.  The material is also a little dated, for later that year, the Berlin Wall came down, and the Cold War ended.  For flaws, however, those are few and relatively unimportant, including the historical context, since the film does not try to project into a future based on the political status quo of the day, such as in 2010: The Year We Make Contact; it, instead, imagines a present where "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" crosses with Jules Verne.

The underwater milieu provides the perfect setting for a creepy thriller.  Harris and Mastrantonio are wonderful actors who have great chemistry, as the film explores the love they still have for one another.  The supporting players are interesting, particularly Michael Biehn, who leads the military group assigned to recover the Russian sub and its weaponry, though he is afflicted by pressure sickness with dire consequences for the rig's crew, providing one of the intensity-driven obstacles in their quest for survival.  The special effects are groundbreaking and gave Mr. Cameron enough groundwork to create the masterful T-1000 effects in Terminator 2. Even if you don't (SPOILER) subscribe to the fanciful notion that extraterrestrials have settled in the deep places of the earth, the concept alone is a highly imaginative and entertaining one, and Mr. Cameron realizes that vision quite spectacularly in the film's final sequences.

While it was only modestly successful at the box office, and even less successful critically, the Abyss is simply an entertaining film that does not disappoint in terms of the ride it gives the viewer.  I appreciate that ride, though, as I said, it's a ride best enjoyed once in a while, when the thought of being hundreds of feet underwater, surrounded by unknown life forms and trapped by a violent storm, can really work the imagination.  On that basis alone, I recommend watching or re-watching this film--that is, of course, unless you are afraid of the water.

Under discussion:

The Sound of Music  (1965)

I've been combing through my personal DVD library lately for a couple of reasons.  First, I've returned to theater after a few weeks' hiatus.  I'm currently assistant stage managing Dreamgirls at the Grand Rapids Civic Theater and shortly after that will be stage managing The Sound of Music for the same house.  (If you're in the area, come see them!) As such, I haven't had much time to go to the theater or go back to the video store lately.  Second, I've run through my current store of TVD's, the ultimate time-filler for when free time miraculously appears (except for the Muppet Show, which I'm trying to savor because of the length of time it takes to release one of those seasons.  But I digress).  It's also that awkward time when I'm greatly anticipating the fall TV season and reading many books, but I have only so much patience for these activities, and I'm not reading anything that holds my interest for a long period of time.  So, I decided to pull out a few golden oldies and, further, to blog about them, and in some cases defend them, since opinions are always varied.

The first movie I pulled from the collection (aside from Dreamgirls, which was only recently reviewed), I pulled for what should be an obvious reason to you now, gentle reader.  In preparation for the stage show, I pulled out The Sound of Music, a movie which I, at least, regard as one of the quintessential movie musicals of all time.  

Everyone knows the story because it's based on the real life Von Trapp family singers and because it's one of those movies everyone is at least familiar with on a superficial level based on its permutation into the popular culture.  Maria, a well-intended novice nun with a song in her heart, finds herself governess for the wily Von Trapp children, who are repressed by their widower father, an army captain who manages his brood in the only way he knows how - military-style.  Maria's innocence and spirit prove to be the breath of fresh air that all the Von Trapps need.  She brings music into their household and brings father and the seven children closer together, but, of course, there are complications.  A rich baroness is looking to multiply her fortune by flirting with the captain; a scamp of a mooch named Uncle Max wants to capitalize on the children's otherworldly musical talents; and the Nazis see fit to occupy Austria and force its military into their service.  And, of course, the Captain and Maria fall awkwardly in love despite these obstacles.

What makes this movie quintessential is, first, the magical mix of songs.  Rodgers and Hammerstein were no slouches, and this stage show was their last collaboration, before Mr. Hammerstein passed away.  In many ways, it is their most mature collaboration, and the music is the richest, most palatable collection of lyrics and melodies of their entire catalogue.  Nearly everyone can sing snippets, despite their best efforts, of "My Favorite Things," "Do-Re-Mi," "Edelweiss," or the title song.  They are a magical blend of harmony and simplicity, and their themes are simulataneously charming and touching.

Second, the performances in this piece are stunning.  Julie Andrews is undeniable, even though her perkiness is probably less acting than actuality.  Maybe that is what is so enticing about it.  She's genuine as Maria, and her singing is effortless, naturally, so she draws the viewer in almost from those first ringing notes and twirls over the hill.  Christopher Plummer as the captain is just wonderful and believable as the stalwart head of house, even if he hated the filming process (he coined the quasi-affectionate nickname "The Sound of Mucous" that floats about theater communities).  The only cringeworthy performances may be from those actors who play Liesl, the oldest child, and Rolf, her young lover and later convert to Nazi-ism, but the spirit of the movie overtakes those awkward moments and makes them beautiful, like the rest of the film, in the end.

Third, the filmmaking was quite innovative for a movie musical at that time.  The sweeping helicopter-based panorama of the opening sequences alone were wonderful, and the use of the location (the film was filmed in Salzburg, Austria and surrounds) was enriching to the whole experience.  On-location filming was a relatively unexplored possibility in the 50s and 60s; this was just one of the few examples, and it was truly effective.

Detractors might consider this, along with other Rodgers and Hammerstein plays-to-film, cheesy, hokey, even boring.  It is an unerringly optimistic piece, despite its awkward and hurried ending, which involves the Nazi army bearing down on the Von Trapps as they attempt to flee Austria.  Non-musical fans probably find the advent of all the songs somewhat annoying, and some musical fans find the play/film too traditional and too outdated.

I would agree to disagree with those people.  The Sound of Music is a beautiful film, the least annoying of the Rodgers and Hammerstein catalogue, in my opinion (if you look at it in those terms), and uplifting, as sweet and sentimental should be.  It won Best Picture in 1964 in addition to four other Oscars (and was nominated for still five more), giving it credibility that other movie musicals really do not seem to attain.  It was also the last of the great movie musicals of the period; it would be some years before a movie musical was as widely accepted.  Cabaret was critically acclaimed but not popularly well-received; Moulin Rouge is probably the first movie musical to break the mold of the musical drought.

I love this movie.  I pull it out every so often, even when I'm not stage managing the stage production.  It's the type of movie that leaves you with a happy feeling, like movie musicals are supposed to do.  Despite its minor flaws, it endures to this day, making this movie musical essential to any movie collection, musical or otherwise.