Reel Thoughts

Revisiting Cabaret for the AFI Project

pippin06 — Thu, 08 May 2008 13:38:38 GMT

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

pippin06 — Wed, 07 May 2008 12:42:57 GMT

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

pippin06 — Mon, 05 May 2008 16:58:46 GMT

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

pippin06 — Mon, 05 May 2008 16:40:50 GMT

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.

Ed Wood, the Quirkiest of Homages

pippin06 — Thu, 01 May 2008 02:02:53 GMT

Hello out there in Spoutland! It has been a couple of weeks since my last entry, as I was finishing up that aforementioned school play, which went off as smashingly as it could. Fame really is gonna' live forever, but I digress. As it is, I have been sitting on this Netflix movie for I don't know how long, as I was not really afforded the luxury of time to watch it. Now that the show is done, and the TV season spurts and sputters back to life, it's back to what I enjoy doing best: watching movies.

I have been looking forward to watching Ed Wood for a long time because it's got a magical mix of ingredients, including direction by Tim Burton (a general favorite), a primary role by dreamy Johnny Depp, and a supporting turn by the fabulous Bill Murray. Anything else about this film was icing on the cake, so I was eager to give it a looksee. It didn't really live up to my expectations this time around, however, though I still found it to be an enjoyable and decidedly unique and affectionate tribute to the man deemed the "worst director of all time."

The titular character (Depp) made what little name he had for himself directing B movies like "Plan 9 from Outer Space." He was also an unflinching transvestite, drawing comfort from angora sweaters. He surrounded himself with a variety of misfits, including Bunny Breckinridge (Murray), a gay actor looking for a sex change. Murray's performance was decidedly the funniest because it was so off his type and reaffirmed for me again how wonderful an actor he is. Ed Wood also makes an inspirational friendship with aging horror actor Bela Lugosi (Martin Landau). Landau won the Oscar for his portrayal of Lugosi and for good reason - he steals the entire film. The pacing and story of Ed Wood leave something to be desired despite the painstakingly cheesy homage to the genre to which Wood devoted himself; I had to watch this film in two halves because I found it a little boring, even though it had the capacity to make me smile. If it weren't for the occasional appearance of Murray's Bunny and Landau's riveting and charismatic Lugosi, the film would have been a wash for me.

As it was, Landau crackled with electricity as the man who simultaneously loved and hated his fame as the thespian behind Dracula. His inflections, his expressions, his accent, the journey of the character as an old has-been, addicted to pain killers, finding a spark of life in the low-grade cinema fare of Wood is reason enough to see this film. He was amazing.

The rest of the film, despite Landau, can only be chalked up to something akin to cute in my opinion. The art direction, with all of the purposefully cookie-cutter props and period sets, was by far the most charming technological aspect of the film, and Tim Burton's expertise at visual story lent well to the affection he had for the subject. I also loved how the film was in black and white and some of the performances of the supporting characters, such as Delores (Sarah Jessica Parker), the less-than-understanding first girlfriend of Eddie's.

Yet, the film was nothing more than a loosely told biopic, played for laughs. Fortunately, it never became too cartoony, but I just was not as riveted or laughing as hard as I thought I would. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy it on some level. I think the sheer uniqueness of the film gives it credibility, even if it isn't the most entertaining thing I've watched in recent memory.

Nevertheless, I feel the film deserves a 7.5 (between shaky and very good) for the slow and erratic pacing but otherwise likable qualities. I don't think it passes my test, though, and I also firmly believe that despite the loving care Burton showed his primary subject, this film is not his masterpiece. Big Fish is tops for me right now, followed by Sweeney Todd, but Ed Wood is definitely worth the watch, since its message of being true to oneself and one's dreams is contained within a slightly avant-garde and nicely quirky package. Perfect! Print it.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is One Crazy Trip

pippin06 — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 04:47:44 GMT

Last week's Netflix movie became this week's Netflix movie now that I have been spending time building sets and doing other things for the current high school show I'm directing ("Fame: the Musical"), I tried watching this film last Sunday night, but I was dead tired after some good hard partying and two days of hard labor, and there was no way I was going to be able to stay awake, much less make sense of the hodgepodge of images forming the backbone of this movie. The week then escaped from me - at least I have no limit on the time I am able to hold onto these movies.

Fear and Loathing...might be classified as yet another drug movie, but it's a cut above others in that its quirkyness makes it unique. It's based on the book with the longer name by Hunter S. Thompson, a descriptive journey into the deeper parts of the highs and lows of hallucinogenic drugs. Johnny Depp plays Raoul Duke (apparently the alter ego of Thompson), a strung out sportswriter, who with his attorney (Benicio del Toro), take a road trip to Vegas, partying very hard along the way. They encounter all sorts of people and places in their trips, both physical and pharmacological, seemingly searching for the perfect high rather than some existential or other philosophical meaning, though the movie takes an oddly philosophical turn by its end.

I liked this movie more than other drug movies because it retained a sense of humor, despite the goal of creating the motion picture equivalents of the most acute sorts of trips. Johnny Depp and Benicio del Toro give crazy but engaging performances as the junkies in question, and Terry Gilliam's natural sense of the wacky lends very well to the whole visual feast. More than once, I had flashes of predecessors, like the Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour, and Monty Python's Meaning of Life. The fact that the movie was set in 1971 and reflected long and hard on 1960s psychidelia, while boasting a killer songtrack that was both geographically and period-accurate, aided those comparisons.

I didn't like, however, that the movie lacked any cohesive plot. It was really just one long, strange bender punctuated by absurd situations and visual images representing the potency of the drug of choice. The film was consistent in its lack of cohesion, though: the beginning, middle, and end were somewhat stream of consciousness, starting lazily and hazily and ending much the same way, reflective of the times and culture but never losing sight of the drug-addled perspective.

Still, dreamy Johnny's and Benicio's performances were so complete and believable while decidedly crazy-wacky-kooky, that I was engaged in spite of myself and even laughed a few times. Plus, there are a series of appearances by several stars and celebrities of all types, and it proved to be fun trying to identify who they were.

I am not sure this certainly weird movie fits into my repertoire of movies I wholeheartedly enjoy. I like Terry Gilliam's films generally, but this one, no doubt based on its source material, traveled some disturbing roads, despite my open mind and interest in the film. The subject matter, again, was probably lost on me, but I think I need to rate this film a 7 for being shaky but entertaining, as it did contain some true moments of comedy, even if there wasn't much of a story (which I prefer over a carefully executed though abstract string of visual images). Also, the film doesn't pass the test. It's a little too crazy for me, Johnny Depp or no. It's got some great quotes, though, serious and non-serious. I might just watch it once more--just to remember the little gems that represent the lessons of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and relive the few uncomfortable laughs this surreal and trippy movie inspires.

Revisiting Star Wars for the AFI Project

pippin06 — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 00:27:54 GMT

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

Star Wars is on the following AFI lists:

The Original Top 100 (#15)
100 Years...100 Heroes and Villains (Han Solo is the #14 hero)
100 Movie Quotes: (#8 - Various, including Han Solo: "May the Force be with you.")
25 Film Scores (#1)
100 Most Inspiring Movies (#39)
The Revised Top 100 (#13)

Ok, I'm not going to lie. Star Wars is one of my three all-time favorite movies (the other two are the Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi). I still love these films and more than Lord of the Rings (my second favorite three). I was born shortly after this film's original release; I have not known a life without this movie. If I've seen The Wizard of Oz 90 bajillion times, I've seen Star Wars 900 bajillion times. As has most people Generation X and older, and new fans crop up everyday.

I'm not going to bother summarizing plot here. That's just doing an injustice to the magic that is Star Wars, made back when George Lucas was a young, ambitious filmmaker and before he became a one-note Sally poster-child of recycled goods and filmmaking mediocrity. If you have never seen this movie, my jaw is on the floor. I am agape, aghast, agog! No movie in film history has influenced the pop culture lexicon and mass merchandising frenzies of today more than Star Wars. I don't think there is even a question as to why this film pops up on the American Film Institute lists of great American movies. This is truly one of THE great American movies. If I had my way, it'd be top 10 at least, but I haven't seen all of the top 10 movies (original or revised), so you don't have to take my word for it (Reading Rainbow....).

I also think it's a masterpiece. It's got EVERYTHING, and it's put together well in a fast-paced story that sets the stage for something epically operatic in scope. Nothing had been seen on screen like it, and I yearn for a widescreen TV just so I can thrill to the opening shot of a star destroyer filling the screen. It singlehandedly redefined the term "blockbuster." The soundtrack alone is amazing - which is why John Williams (my hero) gets top honors on the film scores list. So, Luke Skywalker whines a little about having to go into Tashi station to pick up some power converters. So, the special effects pre-special edition were a little limited - I mean, they didn't have CGI back then and had to be creative on a conservative budget, since Lucas had to schlepp the movie around until 20th Century Fox finally gave it the green light. So, Princess Leia has cinnebons on her head, there's a walking carpet, and prissy comic relief robots. Oh, and because Lucas wrote the screenplay for the first movie, the dialogue is a little more awkward than tin he sequels, when screenwriting was assigned to more capable pencils.

Star Wars is still a riproaring good time, and whatever very miniscule flaws it has (it's still a 10 to me), it makes up in the bits of perfection, like casting Alec Guinness as Obi-wan Kenobi, that make it so unique. Naturally, I own this movie in about five different versions, and I pull one of them out once a year or so just for that comfort/security blanket factor and also to make sure my memorization of the film is still in tact. I can't convince a stubborn viewer who refuses to watch it "based on the hype" to actually give it a go, but I can say that this is one of the bestest movies in the whole wide world, and anyone who chooses not to watch it is simply missing out.

A Scanner Darkly is Creative...but That's About It

pippin06 — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 12:10:15 GMT

Netflix this week sent me A Scanner Darkly. I only knew about this movie because a conscientious member of the Imagination of Fantasy group (request membership!) put it on a "look forward to" list, but there is not an ounce of true fantasy about it, except of the science fiction type. Truth be told, I had nearly zero expectations going into this film and, therefore, should have been a blank canvas, receptive to what I was going to see. The trouble? This movie turned me off quickly and never got me back.

The film is based on a Philip K. Dick novel. Big brother is everywhere, and substance abuse and addiction are rampant. Bob Arctor (Keanu Reeves) is a narcotics informant who wears a special suit to disguise his identity from even his superiors. He is ordered to spy on friends (including Winona Ryder, Robert Downey, Jr, and Woody Harrelson)- and himself - as they are suspected to be suppliers of the hottest new black market drug, Substance D. Yet, Bob is, himself, addicted to the stuff, which has a side effect of producing split personalities in users. Thus, Bob has to sort out what is real and what is addiction-related while dealing with his friends and would-be superiors. Oh, and the film uses an animation technique called "rotoscoping" to make it especially mindbending.

I did not like this movie. I almost hated this movie, but I think I stopped squarely at dislike, because I had this notion that the novel on which the movie is based is probably a great read and a good thriller to sink one's teeth into. It is also a highly original and intelligent story that explores several philosophical and sociological themes as it relates to addiction, so I probably should have read the book first. That's where my praise stops, however.

First, let's talk about the animation. The idea of using it is creative and original and probably would have lent itself well to the plot execution if it had not been so distracting. Seriously, I was disconnected from moment one, trying to orient my vision to this technique and become accustomed to it. Maybe that was the point, but I found it annoying, and I was immediately bored - immediately! I lost all interest in the film within a very short space of time and felt it might have been a different movie if the live-action versions of the actors were used instead.

It didn't help that the acting was atrocious. Every single actor was simply not good, and maybe I shouldn't be surprised by that, but Keanu and Winona and Woody and Robert have had occasions of good performances. None of them offered such performances this time around. The dialogue was awkward anyway, but the execution of it was just weak and sometimes cringeworthy, furthering the disconnect.

I also have this notion that the adaptation was probably bad, just because I think some great themes and ideas got lost in all of the rotoscoping and stilted spazzing of actors trying to look like they are addicted to something. The twists at the end had zero impact on me because I was just so over it. And the score sounded like a combination of the score from Requiem for a Dream and The Fountain, so someone might have been a little too influenced by previous auteurs. Which explains why the Netflix queue led me to this film next.

All in all, I pretty much stopped caring about this movie within the first half hour. Others might have found it a mind-blowing experience, but after watching Darren Aronofsky's expertly crafted films dealing with similar subjects (Requiem, Pi), this is but a shadow of that potential genius. I rate this film a harsh but sincerely felt 4 (for "nice idea, didn't pull it off one bit"). This is in the bad half of my rating scale, as we're below mediocre now. I have no love for this movie, so there is major failing on the test. This movie's ambition simply got buried and destroyed in its execution.

Revisiting The Godfather for the AFI Project

pippin06 — Sun, 30 Mar 2008 20:26:28 GMT

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 Godfather is on the following AFI lists:

The Original Top 100 (#3)
100 Most Heart-Pounding Movies (#11)
100 Movie Quotes: (#2 - Don Corleone, Vito and Michael: "I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse.")
25 Film Scores (#5)
The Revised Top 100 (#2)

The Godfather is such a good movie, it has universal appeal among men and women, young and old, people of all types. It unfolds and plays out like an opera, complete with mayhem and tragedy. It asks the viewer to sympathize with the head of a mafia family and to watch as the youngest, prodigal son becomes corrupted by those who sought to keep him uncorrupted. It has one of the most flawless stories ever put to film, and I love it immensely.

Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando, in the role of his career) keeps his family in line and his friends at bay by doing them favors in exchange for other favors, many with a violent aftertaste, though he does so in the name of "business" and good intentions. When a young businessman named Salazzo, loyal to a rival crime family, approaches Don Corleone with a proposition to get into the narcotics business, and Vito refuses, war between the families breaks out, led primarily by Vito's oldest hot-headed son, Sonny (James Caan). Young Michael (Al Pacino, in his breakthrough performance), the family favorite and a "citizen" with a good reputation, becomes embroiled when Vito's on death's door after being hit by Salazzo's men. Michael kills Salazzo and a corrupt cop in cold blood, and so begins his descent and eventual path to corruption. The film also features Robert Duvall as Tom Hagen, adoptive son to Vito and his conciglieri and advisor, and Diane Keaton as Kay, Michael's girlfriend-turned-wife, who knows what she gets into without really acknowledging it.

This movie is nothing short of brilliant. It's another bona fide masterpiece. It's one of the most quotable movies on the face of the planet. While re-watching the film, I was reminded of the cute but mediocre "She's Got Mail" starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. Tom Hanks' character in that movie has a fondness for quoting the Godfather, and he brings up a few, not the least of which includes "go to the mattresses." The horse's head looks fake, but it still gives me the willies.

What makes this movie so epic is the whole entire mixture of ingredients. All of the performances are brilliant, particularly Brando. The score is unique and recognizable. The art direction and cinematography, recreating postwar New York and Little Italy with shadowy tones and gold hues, gives the entire film a level of sinisterness and the viewer the feeling that no happy ending is in store for anyone concerned because the Corleones mess with morality in ways that will not bring them prosperity. The viewer can't help but watch the action unfold because the story is told so masterfully.

I can't say enough to extol this movie. The best test is the fact that it clocks in at about three hours, but I never feel time go by when I watch this film.

I own the movie, I would give it a perfect 10, and so many people (rightfully) love it, that I don't think there's too much more to say other than it deserves its position on all of the above lists and more. The Godfather is timeless, it holds up well, it's entertaining and engrossing, and it's a movie that no one can refuse as a classic.

Revisiting Gone with the Wind for the AFI Project

pippin06 — Sun, 30 Mar 2008 13:37:18 GMT

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

Gone with the Wind is on the following AFI lists:

The Original Top 100 (#4)
100 Years...100 Passions (#2)
100 Movie Quotes (3 total):

(#1 - Rhett: "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn;" #31 - Scarlett: "After all, tomorrow is another day!"; #59 - Scarlett: "As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again.")

25 Film Scores (#2)
100 Most Inspiring Movies (#43)
The Revised Top 100 (#6)

Gone with the Wind is one of those movies that have always been part of my life in one way or another because it is my mother's favorite movie, and she forced me to watch it when I was pretty young. I give it five stars because I do love it like I love a childhood blanket or stuffed animal, and I purchased it based on this affinity for it. I've seen it enough times, and I associate it with my mom, so it's got that palpable comfort factor. The love I have for this movie, though, is a tempered love because, and especially in rewatching it to check off some AFI lists, I have some decidedly mixed opinions about it.

The story can be distilled down to basically this: a selfish, spoiled, young Southern belle pines away for a man who will never love her (and who she should never have loved) while the antebellum South crumbles around her in the wake of Civil War. Scarlett O'Hara (Vivien Leigh, Oscar winner) spends the sunny Georgian summer pining away for her wooden but philosophical neighbor and childhood friend, Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard), until she learns that he will marry his cousin (ew) Melanie Hamilton (Olivia de Havilland). She flirts with every young beau to make him jealous except for the one that fails to catch her eye: Rhett Butler (Clark Gable), a scalawag from Charleston and a man equal to Scarlett's own shortcomings, who sets his sights on her instantly. Scarlett marries Melanie's brother Charles (and other men she doesn't love) to make Ashley jealous, but he and other men are only interested in fighting for their rights as Southerners (ew) by declaring Civil War. The rest of the film follows Scarlett's journey as she pines for Ashley while coming to the slow realization that Rhett is her true love. Oh, and she has a wise and loyal mammy (Hattie McDaniel, Oscar winner) trying to help.

Gone with the Wind is long and in a noticeable way. Each time I watch it, I can't sit for four whole hours. This last time, I watched it in three parts. Plus, I know it so well, nothing gets lost on me when I have to stop it. Though, I always cry. I always cry, and I think it's because I'm weary from the long-ness and because I get so upset at how stupid Scarlett really is. She's really such a stupid character! Young and naive and selfish, and she's the character the viewer is asked to follow and with which to sympathize.

Gone with the Wind is on those AFI lists because it is iconic. It is the best picture winner from the "golden year of cinema," 1939. It is grand in scale, story, and scope. The romance is timeless and epic, the performances are multi-layered and affecting, the ambition was a marvel of itself. It appeals to a mass appetite for big and grand. The costumes are unquestionably fabulous and intricate (they must have single-handedly blown the budget), and the visual effects are very good, especially in the burning of Atlanta. The score is as recognizable as any modern score (it deserved to be #2, topped only by Star Wars). It really is a very very good movie, even if it is very long.

Yet, I find Gone with the Wind especially melodramatic, which in my now slightly older years I don't enjoy so much. I get so mad at Scarlett each and every time I watch this movie. And then I get mad at why I've been asked to sympathize with the selfish brat. When she finally marries Rhett (more for his money than for love) in the second act, they seem to be so good together, and then she visits her lumber mill (which she started by marrying her sister's beau, another man she doesn't love) and moons over Ashley again and decides that Rhett isn't worth it, and I just get so mad, because you know it's all going to end badly. Rhett gives up, naturally, and says, "Frankly, my dear..." when she's finally come to her senses, and the rest is history.

I also just have generally mixed feelings about both the book and the film in general. The film asks the viewer to be sympathetic with the loss of the aristocratic South, when slavery paved the way for American racism. It's an undeniable part of American history, but I consider it a dark chapter, not one that should be celebrated and revered. Maybe I'm just a tried and true Yankee and a bleeding-heart liberal, but I feel sort of squirmy when I decide to watch this movie, regardless of how Southerners might have suffered post-defeat.

I do think the film is its own brand of masterpiece, though I believe that Casablanca is a far superior film in every way. I think it belongs on those lists. I'm not quite sure that the high placement on the original and revised "greatest film" lists is necessarily deserved. I used to love this movie more, but it's changed for me a little, because I've had the opportunity to really digest it and see it for what it is, but I also still love it for what it is. My favorite is Rhett, he's got all the best lines, and Clark Gable was certainly a handsome man in his time.

I think I would personally rate this film a 9.5 rather than a perfect 10. Some people will think that's blasphemy, certainly, but I just find that Gone with the Wind is not as satisfying or as fulfilling a film as say Singin' in the Rain or the Godfather or as convincing and heart-melting a romance as Casablanca. It belongs on the AFI lists because the film, made when it was into what it became, renders it a film of historical signficance in the landscape of American cinema, as it was, literally, the original blockbuster and has long since been imitated if never fully duplicated. Yet, I can also see why Gone with the Wind would not be appreciated as much by newer movie-watching generations. I've certainly lost love for it, but it has its place, and I believe everyone should give it at least a chance. It's best rented - that way it can be paused for bathroom and snack breaks.