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Reel Thoughts

  • Revisiting Cabaret for the AFI Project

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    Under discussion:

    Cabaret  (1972)

    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

    Cabaret is on the following AFI lists:

    100 Greatest Film Songs (#18 - "Cabaret")
    25 Greatest Movie Musicals (#5)
    The Revised Top 100 (#63)

    If you'll notice, Cabaret is one of the films that did not make the original AFI Top 100 list but made it into the tenth anniversary edition, and all the way up to number 63.  I am not exactly sure why.  Don't get me wrong, it's an enjoyable musical film, filled with toe-tapping songs and dances (including the famous title song), social commentary in a historical context, and true-to-life situations in fantastic circumstances.  It has its place, but is it one of the 100 greatest American films of all time?  I don't know if I can answer that question here, but I do know that it is not my favorite film.

    In 1931 Berlin, the rise of the Nazi party is played against the backdrop of an underground club called the Kit Kat Club, which features (yes) cabaret performances of the debauch and eye-raising type.  The androgynous Master of Ceremonies (Joel Grey) introduces his musical girlie shows with a wink and a smile, and all of the musical numbers are set in the club, lyrically commenting on the tug of war between the hedonism of the club and the growing popularity (and cruelty) of the Nazi party.  Brian Roberts (Michael York), a British transplant and philosophy student, comes to Berlin in the hopes of becoming a teacher.  There, he meets one of the cabaret performers, the flamboyant American Sally Bowles (Liza Minnelli), a talented songstress (natch) with an unyielding devil-may-care attitude.  There they form a friendship and an eventual romance, until they meet the rich and doting Maximillian, who showers them with attention, gifts, and sex.  The pair's inability to commit to each other, through Sally's emotional shortcomings and Brian's bisexuality, leads to a struggle to hang onto something; the decline of their friendship seems to symbolize the degradation of the national mindset around them.

    I like this film, but, like I said above, it's not my favorite.  Liza is fabulous, and to prove it, she won an Oscar.  In fact, the film won eight, including Best Director (but it lost Best Picture to the Godfather).  Liza plays one of the most fully-realized and flawed female characters to ever hit movie screens with great charisma and spirit, and that voice can only be topped by her famous mother (that's Judy Garland for you unknowing types).  The other actors are also good, particularly the wonderful Joel Grey, who plays the part of knowing narrator with flair and fun.  Also, Cabaret is a Fosse special, and all of the musical numbers are great fun to watch, condensed though they are into the small stage venue of the Kit Kat Club.

    The story is resonant, even though it's period.  It's also sophisticated for the decade in which it was made, addressing hard-hitting themes including sexual freedom versus responsibility and abortion.

    I don't love this film, though, or this musical because I feel like it never decides what it wants to be.  Is it the story of Sally and Brian as friends?  As tragic lovers? The story of a nation on the brink of war?  The story of a club and its patrons trying to remain true to its hedonistic spirit despite what's going on around them?  I know it's all of these things, but the plot, what there is of it, does so much jumping around that there are times when I feel a little bored with making the mental switch each time it leaps.  The B-story of Fritz and Natalia seems to be the more compelling romance, but it flits in and out of frame so often, it's hard to feel all that compelled.  I just feel distracted when I watch this film, though I will say that it was more enjoyable on first viewing.  I am thinking it just doesn't hold up to repeat viewings as much as others.

    Also, it's not really a musical in the classical sense: none of the musical numbers actually drives the plot.  Instead, they sort of punctuate the social discourse in which the film attempts to engage, and that lack of cohesion fuels my distractions.  A scene may be in progress, the frame suddenly flashes to the club where the Master of Ceremonies sings a song that may or may not have anything to do with what was just seen, and then the film jumps again to something entirely different.  My short attention span--and I have a short one--is surprisingly challenged by this film.

    Still, Cabaret has its place in American cinema because of what it is and what it did or attempted to do at the time it was made.  I'm just not convinced that it deserves to be one of the 100, much less #63.  The first list's number 63 was Stagecoach, though, so in that sense, the AFI traded up.  If I were to give Cabaret my personal rating, it would definitely be an 8 (minor flaws/very good).  It doesn't pass the test, however.  I watched it a second time for this AFI Project thing, but I probably won't watch it again, for all the reasons I stated above.  Though, of course, that won't stop me from singing, "Wilkomm, bienvenue, welcome..."


  • Barton Fink, a Writer's Journey

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    Barton Fink  (1991)

    The next couple of entries on the Netflix queue are Coen brother movies, which is good, because the only one I think I have seen of theirs up until now is O Brother Where Art Thou, which made me chuckle but which I did not seem to love as much as other people do.  What I will say is that the Coens seem to make thinkers' movies, and I have been looking forward to seeing a few of them, though not necessarily Barton Fink.  I queued this up when I read the description of the plot because it is about a writer fighting to be a writer who writes something meaningful in this sometimes meaningless world.  Of course, it takes a few twists and turns, but that's what attracted me to the film because I fancy myself a writer (maybe not as much lately but erstwhile and hopefully in the future).  Plus, I was intrigued by the potential intelligence of this film.

    And it was definitely intelligent: not in that earth-shattering genius sort of way, but it was smart and multi-layered and encouraged you to react to some surreal situations.  It also had that dark undercurrent that seems to punctuate many of the Coen brothers' films.

    Barton Fink (John Turturro) is a playwright who has just met his first Broadway success in New York.  As a result, Hollywood comes knocking, and Barton reluctantly agrees to write for the movies in anticipation of the financial reward, though seemingly at a compromise of his principles, as he believes writing should be about the hopes and dreams of the common man rather than some assemblage of abstract thoughts for literary minds or a commercial enterprise.  This compromise manifests into writers' block; as a solution, he seeks out the advice of another novelist-turned-screenwriter, the drunk and animated W.P. Mayhew (John Mahoney, playing a Faulkner type).  Mayhew's "personal" secretary Audrey (Judy Davis), who has ghost-written several of Mayhew's projects, takes an interest in Barton as does Barton's next-door-neighbor, Charlie (John Goodman in an outstanding performance), a likable salesman looking to chat away a few lonely nights.  Things go horribly awry when Barton gets roped into a murder investigation, and the plot takes a few turns that I will not even risk spoiling.  Other appearances include Tony Shalhoub as the producer behind Barton's potential film and Steve Buscemi as the bellhop for the run-down dump of a hotel in which Barton sets up residence.

    I liked this movie because it worked on many levels that did not really seem to intersect.  It was like lasagna, actually: distinct layers of noodles, meat, and cheese that work well together but are totally separate, parallel even.  On the one hand, the film was about the writer's journey, and what I loved were the little details, the sounds of the empty hotel that seem to haunt and plague Barton as he struggles to write a "wrestling picture."  The peeling of the wallpaper; the long, empty hall of unshined shoes; the picture of the woman staring at the ocean waves; I found it all to be a sensitive examination of the writer's mind and journey in the occasional struggle to create.  In fact, the hotel became something of a visual metaphor for Barton's particular creative dilemma, and I thought it was kind of brilliant to sort of make the surrounds its own supporting character.  I kept wondering where they filmed this movie, but I didn't dig into the DVD extras to look.

    On the other hand, the movie is about what happens when an ordinary man gets caught in extraordinary circumstances and how the ordinary man reacts.  The murder investigation throws the viewer for quite a loop, and the movie takes on a very surreal flavor as Barton struggles to piece together his shattered perceptions.

    Of course, on the still other hand, the film is about how things are not what they seem.  Shattered perceptions, particularly of the ideals that the common man or even the thinking man develops in his mind, are a dominant theme.  I cannot spoil it, though.  This movie worked so well for me because I knew little about it, so the twists were especially effective.  I would not dream of ruining it for others who might want to see it.

    The performances in this film by Turturro and Goodman were outstanding.  I was especially impressed with John Goodman, who is known for his comedic acting, but he played the gregarious though decidedly "off" Charlie with skill I was not aware he had.  John Turturro has always been one of those character actors that seems to find the center of his role so completely that suspension of disbelief is not even a question.  Barton was a sympathetic character despite his cerebral qualities because he experiences real emotions, which Turturro seemed to portray with ease.

    Also, this story was so original and well-executed, I am finally a believer in those who extol the Coens.  I am looking forward to finally seeing Fargo, which I believe is next up on the queue.

    I have a few miniscule complaints about this movie, however, that keep me from thinking this is a masterpiece or even perfectly entertaining.  The pacing in the middle of the film seemed to slow to a bit of a crawl, when the beginning was already sort of ambling along at an easygoing trot.  Perhaps it was to dull the viewer's senses a bit before the ensuing events unfolded, but I had the itch to pause the movie for a snack at that point, and I am not sure it was necessary given that the film was already moving at an almost methodical speed, drawing the viewer into the logical, frustrated, creative mind of Barton.  Also: what was in the box?!  I have a few theories (a head, for starters, and this film predated Seven), but why was it never opened?  As with Lost in Translation, I find secrets like this a little annoying.  I know Barton may not have wanted to find out or further shatter his already broken perspective, or maybe the lesson is that some things are better left secret and unknown, and ideals and fantasies are better suited to one's comfort and well being.  With all of the attention to it, though, I felt a bit incomplete.  Even with the beautiful ending frame, which was simply poetic, I still was left asking, "That's it??"  Also, what happened to the no-doubt over-torched hotel?  I found myself wondering after Chet, the Steve Buscemi character.  He was so eager, after all.

    All in all, however, these are minor flaws and quirky ones at that, and there are only a few, so I rate this movie an 8.5 between minor flaws/very good and perfectly entertaining.  In terms of the test, I think I would purchase it if I found it for cheap, perhaps, but I don't know if I liked it enough to wishlist it right away.  Still, this film is a very good one, and it makes you think.  This writer appreciated though cautiously loved Barton's unusual journey.


  • Revisiting The Sound of Music for the AFI Project

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    Under discussion:

    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

    The Sound of Music is on the following AFI lists:

    The Original Top 100 (#55)
    100 Years...100 Passions (#27)
    100 Greatest Film Songs (#10 - "The Sound of Music;" #64 - "My Favorite Things;" #88 - "Do Re Mi")
    25 Greatest Movie Musicals (#4)
    100 Most Inspiring Movies (#41)
    The Revised Top 100 (#40)

    This is a bit of a psych-out.  I didn't actually watch this again because I very very recently revisited this movie in another context.  Rather than rewrite a whole other entry as to why this movie may or may not belong on those AFI lists, read the revisit blog entry I wrote here:

    http://www.spout.com/blogs/pippin06/archive/2007/9/3/19315.aspx

    In fact, in general, if I have recently blogged about a movie, I am not going to rewrite a whole other blog entry about it.  I see no use in re-spinning these wheels, but for the record, since The Sound of Music is one of my most favorite movies, I think it's, perhaps in a biased way, a requisite inclusion on the AFI lists, without question. I would personally rate it a 9 for being perfectly entertaining (my one minor flaw with the movie centers on the protracted last half hour of escape from the Nazis, a sequence which is portrayed much more succinctly in the stage version).  I also, of course, own it and watch it every so often.  It's one of those films/musicals that I find myself singing randomly when the mood strikes, and it's one of my three most favorite movie musicals anyway.  Also, it's a movie that holds up well with it's entertainment value; the show sold out almost every night at the Civic when I stage managed it, and the movie is quintessential in its classic quality, making it a qualified AFI entry.


  • Revisiting West Side Story for the AFI Project

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    West Side Story  (1961)

    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

    West Side Story is on the following AFI lists:

    The Original Top 100 (#41)
    100 Years...100 Passions (#3)
    100 Greatest Film Songs (#20 - "Somewhere;" #35 - "America;" #59 - "Tonight")
    25 Greatest Movie Musicals (#2)
    The Revised Top 100 (#51)

    West Side Story is one of those films that I have found people like/love or simply hate.  There is no middle ground.  On the one hand, the movie and stage musical alike boast songs that have permutated the pop culture as much as songs from movie musicals like The Wizard of Oz, the Sound of Music, or Singin' in the Rain.  The dance sequences alone are something to behold and widely known or recognized, especially the opening sequence with the rival, finger-snapping gangs.  On the other hand, the vein of the musical is recycled and the dialogue a little cheesy and sugary (which is not the best combination).  Still, it's one of those films that have become an undeniable classic, and I would argue or agree to be a necessary inclusion on those AFI lists.

    The story is really Romeo and Juliet, committed to Manhattan's titular west side in or around the early 1960s.  Instead of the Montagues and Capulets, it's the Jets (second-generation Americans) and the Sharks (Puerto Rican immigrants), two gangs fighting an ongoing turf war.  Instead of Mercutio and Tybalt, it's Riff (Russ Tamblyn), the leader of the Jets, exchanging words with Bernardo (George Chakiris).  After an extended dance sequence, Riff decides to have it out with the Sharks once and for all and calls a war council.  To make the whole thing legit, he calls on former Jet and co-founder of the gang, Tony (Richard Beymer), to facilitate negotiations.  Yet, Tony, our resident Romeo, wants out of gang-life and at a local dance, falls instantly and madly in love with Maria (Natalie Wood), the Juliet du jour, also Bernardo's sister.  Using this as an excuse to fuel the rivalry, the gangs' conflict reaches a fever pitch, and the love affair meets predictably tragic consequences.  Rita Moreno also plays Bernardo's wife Anita, and she provides much of the comic relief.

    West Side Story works because it's an entertaining musical with a timeless (even if recycled) romance and with some of the most potently beautiful songs ever written for stage or screen.  The AFI included three of the songs on the song list and for good reason.  Did you know that the musical was co-written by Leonard Bernstein (music) and Stephen Sondheim (lyrics)?  That kind of superpower combination gives the musical and the movie a kind of classic credibility that other films simply are not as lucky to have.  The music/songs are some of the best in all of musical theater.

    The dancing is something to behold in this picture.  Everything is choreographed, right down to the fights and rumbles.  The opening sequence with the famous snapping of each gang has some breathtaking combinations complete with leaps and flips.  That kind of dancing is not often performed anymore.

    The film is also a sharp commentary on the state of race relations in America at the time.  One of the most poignant and believable songs in the whole picture is the eternal "America," which also happens to be my favorite.  While set to a decidedly toe tapping rhythm, the song minces no words pertaining to how the Sharks and their brethren get the rawer of the two gangs' deals with the rampant racism they face.

    I don't love this film personally, however, because it boils down to the cheese factor.  The love affair between Tony and Maria makes my stomach turn a little; it's too sweet, too trite.  The beautiful poetry of Shakespeare is distilled down into some overly gushy dialogue that I can't imagine anyone, then or now, using.  Also, none of the actors sing for themselves; the voices are dubbed by professional singers as often was the case in these mid-20th century movie musicals.  The acting is also a little cheesy but for the performances of George Chakiris and Rita Moreno, who won supporting Oscars for their work.

    Others love this film, including the Academy, since it won ten Oscars, and the movie is a great movie musical of its own accord.  Technically, the costumes, cinematography, and art direction are fantastic, and most of the film's Oscars were in the technical categories, though it also won Best Picture and Director.

    I own West Side Story because I found it for cheap, and it is enjoyable to sing along with some of those songs, though I can never listen to "I Feel Pretty" again and not think of that scene in Anger Management, when the Jack Nicholson character forces the Adam Sandler character to stop his car in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge and assauge his anger through that song.  Yet, it isn't my favorite, and I am not sure it even deserves to be the #3 movie musical according to the list.  I would personally give the film an 8 for being very good (but with minor flaws).  Still, it's place in American cinematic history I think is unquestionable and undeniable because of the sheer spectacle it offers.  The film is definitely entertaining and holds up as much today as it did in 1961, and I think that is the very definition of a true American classic.


 


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