Reel Thoughts

The Very Titled Away We Go Travels to Touching Destinations

pippin06 — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 14:00:40 GMT

The second film I saw during my hot weekend in Chicago (hot thanks to summer, see) was the newly released new film directed by Sam Mendes (American Beauty, Road to Perdition, Revolutionary Road). Mr. Kate Winslet is one of my favorite directors; I have enjoyed all of his movies that I've seen, though I have not yet seen Revolutionary Road. He has a talent for eliciting some powerful and intimate emotions from his actors and performers, regardless of the prevailing mood of the piece. Thus, it was fitting that this film, a small and intimate picture about starting a new family, should have him at the helm.

In Away We Go, Burt (John Krasinski - Jim!) and Verona (Maya Rudolph) are firmly unmarried but deeply committed to each other, and they are expecting their first child together. When they learn that Burt's eccentric parents (Catherine O'Hara and Jeff Daniels), who they were relying on to help with the baby, are moving overseas and renting out their house, they realize that the world is literally open to them in terms of where they can move and put down roots, and so, they decide to visit a few friends in various locations around the country. While this exercise is initially designed to explore possible places to raise a family while maintaining their decidedly bohemian lifestyle, the friends they find themselves visiting, all parents themselves, become lessons in parenting and how Burt and Verona do not want to raise their first child. What's more, even when they find examples of good parenting, they soon realize that life as parents will not be all smiles and laughter, even though such a life may be fulfilling in the end. Their travels also become a means by which they can analyze their own life paths and see how their life experiences may affect their parental attitudes in the future.

I think the All Movie Guide review at the bottom of the film's Spout page used the best words to encapsulate the point and thrust of this picture: each location to which Burt and Verona travel is not so much an exploration of physical landscapes but of emotional landscapes. Each diversely different location, including Phoenix, Montreal, and Miami, provides Burt and Verona a new lesson, and it's truly meaningful how the couple - who are quite different themselves even as they seem to fit together like hands in gloves - relate to each of the parenting models and to their own lives as they begin to change.

This picture works because Mendes brings a simplicity to the proceedings. He does not overcomplicate the already complex issues Burt and Verona are grappling with; he relies solely on dialogue, sounds, and images to paint an emotional portrait, and his artistry is brilliant. Away We Go sneaks up on you. You expect the film to be pleasant, at least, as you begin to spot the chemistry between the two lead characters, but you never expect it to be profound and extremely touching, particularly with two good comedic actors at the forefront and a bevy of interesting and equally excellent supporting performers, including Allison Janney, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Melanie Lynskey, and, of course, O'Hara and Daniels in the background. The end of the film leaves you feeling satisfied and hopeful but with the real and very relatable afterthought that Burt and Verona are bracing for impact. Mendes simply has a considerable talent at using symbols (in this case, friendships) to belie deeper meanings in an almost poetic way, and this film is no exception, even if it will never have the fanfare of his previous works. Also, each of his films contain some interesting quirk or idiosyncrasy, and Away We Go is no exception, using the main characters' free spirits as foundation for their emotional struggles.

The film would also not be so winning and engaging if it weren't for Krasinski and Rudolph. While there were occasions where I may have had trouble buying Rudolph's performance as sincere--after all, she's played many a crazy character on Saturday Night Live, and this was the first pseudo-dramatic role I've seen her play and only because the presence of her comedic trademarks were subtly felt--she was still a joy to watch, and Krasinki has a gift for playing natural, though this character was not a far cry from Jim Halpert on the Office. The bigger joy of this film was seeing the turns by the supporting actors - Janney as a particularly boorish and clueless mother with a gift for saying the most inappropriate thing in any given situation; Gyllenhaal as a new age mother prone to breast feeding her children well past infancy as well as her colleagues' children too; the always divine and rapturously funny O'Hara and Daniels as Burt's parents, and so on.

I didn't love this film, though, only because I couldn't relate to it completely. I have never experienced the joys of parenthood or the onset of pregnancy, so there was a disconnect for me, but I think that anyone who has been pregnant or is a parent will highly appreciate this picture. That's not a flaw as much as it is an honest opinion - the main characters were very close to my age, and I related to their free, bohemian spirits, but I feel so far away from having children that I struggled to maintain a connection to these characters.

That's not to say that the film isn't wonderfully and smartly written, directed, and performed and isn't recommendable. If nothing else, it is completely touching, and because of the way the emotions being portrayed subtly wrap their vines around the viewer, ensnaring him or her before realizing it, the film is anything but manipulative. In fact, the ending, though a bit abrupt, leaves room for interpretation and reflection, and Mendes never panders to the audience, even if Burt and Verona's decision in the end may have been the obvious choice all along. On the patented ratings scale, I'm inclined to rate Away We Go with an 8 for having minor flaws but being very good. There were some parts that dragged in pacing, and I was not as convinced by Rudolph's performance, but all in all, the movie was enjoyable. I'm not sure if it passes the test, though. While I enjoyed it, I haven't decided if I'm going to devote any part of my collection to Mendes, and this would be my least favorite film of his that I've seen (though, that isn't saying much, as I really like his other films, and none of his films could be what you call bad); on the other hand, if and when I have children or begin a life with a committed love partner, this film might have more meaning for me. I guess I'll hold off until one or more of these possible futures presents itself and then rewatch the film. In the meantime, the film is highly recommendable to anyone just interested in hearing a good story about new beginnings in life - as, after all, I'm sure we all think "away we go" when big changes are before us.

Star Trek Boldly Goes Where It's (Not Often) Gone Before

pippin06 — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 15:26:49 GMT

A week ago, I was enjoying a short vacation and excursion to the Windy City to visit some friends I had not seen in a bit and to enjoy a bit of shopping and high-priced dining. The trouble is that the Windy City was largely the Hot City, and so I was less apt to do outdoors and touristy activities than I was to find indoor places to play. I've been to Chicago too many times to be a bona fide tourist anymore anyway, as opposed to an idle visitor, so I did not feel like I was missing anything.

I digress. So, last Friday, when it was both hot and stormy, my friend and I decided to catch a film at the multiplex off Michigan Avenue and to take in some downtown type food afterward. We elected to see Star Trek, as neither of us had seen it, we are both modest trekkers (at least from past precedent), and none of our other friends would be likely to want to see it with us.

I must admit, I was a bit skeptical. Even though the film was directed by one of my personal heroes, JJ Abrams, and even though the film was, essentially, a prequel, focusing on younger versions of everyone's favorite James T. Kirk, Mr. Spock, Dr. "Bones" McCoy, and so on, I am always a bit leery of franchise reboots because they can be so hit and miss. For example, Batman under Christopher Nolan: hit. Star Wars prequelization: miss.

This year's Star Trek, however, actually becomes quite the different animal compared to its predecessors, featuring one of the cleverest uses of a traditional science fiction plot device I have ever seen. The film opens as a Romulan vessel encounters a Federation starship. The Romulans - who are tattooed and, in some ways, far more menacing than earlier televised incarnations - are captained by Nero (Eric Bana). He questions the Federation captain about the star date and then about the whereabouts of someone named Spock, but when the Federation captain, who agrees to board the Romulan vessel with the hopes of peaceful negotations, cannot provide the answers, Nero murders him in cold blood and launches an unadulterated attack against the other ship. The damage is severe, and First Officer turned captain George Kirk, who assumes command after his captain's demise, orders evacuation, including of his pregnant wife, before committing an act of heroism that fans know is not in the annals of Star Trek history. The film then careens toward the future, as we see young James Tiberius Kirk in Iowa driving his stepfather's automobile at breakneck speeds to the rousing sounds of the Beastie Boys' "Sabotage" until he manages to drive it over a cliff. Then, years later, he (now played by Chris Pine) gets into a bar brawl with recruits from the nearby Starfleet Academy outpost. When their recruiting officer, Captain Pike, who served aboard the ill-fated vessel with his father, challenges Kirk to abandon his rebellious streak and apparent daddy issues and join Starfleet, Kirk initially scoffs at the idea, but, later, seemingly to prove himself, he agrees to become a cadet. At the Academy, he flirts with a young and pretty Uhura (Zoe Saldana) who wants nothing to do with him; meets a flight-phobic young medic by the name of Dr. Leonard McCoy (Karl Urban); and a stuffy Vulcan teaching assistant named Spock (Zachary Quinto - Sylar!), with whom, at first, Kirk seems to get along like oil and water after he famously "works around" the confines of the Kobiyashi Maru psychological test (see Star Trek mythology, or this film, for further details). Of course, we learn of Spock's particular idiom as well - his half human, half Vulcan heritage and his struggle to keep his emotions in check while honoring the traditions of his father Sarek and his home planet. After Kirk is brought before an Academy tribunal to be called to task for "cheating" through the Kobiyashi Maru, the Academy learns of an attack on a nearby Federation planet. The cadets, as the closest available section of the fleet, are called aboard the newly minted Enterprise to answer the distress call, and Kirk manages to cheat his way aboard thanks to the help of his friend Bones. Noticing the pattern of the attack, Kirk remembers the story of the Romulan vessel that attacked his father's ship and tries to warn Captain Pike of the impending trap. Too late, however, does Pike realize that history is repeating, particularly when Nero's ship ensnares the Enterprise, and he demands that Pike board his vessel. Making Spock acting captain and Kirk acting first officer (much to each other's protest) in his wake, Pike agrees to go, leaving the cadets in charge of the likes of a young Pavel Chekov (Anton Yelchin) and a young Ikara Sulu (John Cho - Harold!). Through chance events that result from Kirk and Spock's inability to agree, Kirk eventually learns why Nero indiscriminately attacks Federation starships and embraces the road toward his destiny of becoming the youngest Starfleet captain in Federation history.

That was a lot of plot summary but, in some ways, this is the densest Star Trek plot of any of the previous motion pictures, and it barely touches half of the overall story. Star Trek had the potential of being either really good because it was so new and directed by JJ Abrams, who has the golden touch, or of being really bad because it was a complete reboot of a beloved franchise grounded in complex and complicated mythology that cannot readily be tampered with without the risk of alienating its longtime fans. Fortunately, this Star Trek is the former type of reinvention.

Abrams struck an almost impossible but highly impressive balance: he remained true to the mythology while allowing just enough tweaking to make it new and fresh. Thanks to the screenwriters, not only does this Star Trek film boast one of the best-written Star Trek stories, providing a riproaring tale that never really dragged (even when Spock Prime, played by the reverent Leonard Nimoy, had to take time out for some plot exposition), it is one of the cleverest revamps I have ever seen. Using time travel and some other interesting Star Trek/science fiction devices, Abrams and company slyly created enough fuel for sequelization without erasing the possibility of ignoring the reboot should another reboot come along in the future. I can't give too much away without spoiling the plot, but the changes were welcome and oddly exciting, even though they were significant changes in the end that longtime fans will either embrace or shun.

The visual effects were stunning, and the cinematography was actually quite breathtaking, mixing camera angles, brighter lighting, and bluescreen technology to great effect. Also, the performances by this new version of the Enterprise crew were actually quite entertaining. There were no strict imitations; instead, each actor chose to fully inhabit the characters rather than pay homage to their predecessors. Thus, Pine neglected William Shatner's melodramatic delivery, but its absence was never noticed. Quinto, though it was hard not to think of Sylar at times, managed to infuse Spock with a delicate balance of barely controlled emotional undercurrent (particularly rage) that Nimoy never offered, except in extreme situations. Urban's Bones was hyper and funny, though his delivery of "I'm a doctor, not a ..." left something to be desired. Simon Pegg, as a late-arriving, young Montgomery Scott, was easily my favorite of the new crew, but I wouldn't be able to do justice to just how hilarious his Scotty turned out to be. The only portrayal I struggled with was Uhura's; on the one hand, Uhura was frequently reduced to a two-dimensional character as the only female of the original Enterprise crew. Though Gene Roddenberry worked hard to portray the diversity of the globe and his hopes for future racial and ethnic harmony, there was still a gender-bias of sorts underlying the Original series cast, likely due to the fact that it was a product of the sixties, during which women's liberation movements were really starting to gain momentum. This incarnation attempted to give Uhura some complexity, to make her a three-dimensional woman, which was good. The problem is, three dimensions also transformed her from the sweet and loyal communications officer played by Nichelle Nichols to something of an ambitious (five letter word) as portrayed by Saldana. My struggle, therefore, is understanding why a strong woman with an irrepressible character cannot retain the sweetness inherent in the original portrayal, since I never felt such sweetness in the Uhura I saw in this film. and whether she was written, directed, or played that way is hard to ascertain. Of course, this is one of the larger philosophical dilemmas facing women in motion pictures today.

Also, while Bana was given relatively little to do as the menacing Captain Nero, what he was given to do he performed with a complete lack of originality. More than once, I felt as though he were channeling Ricardo Montalban's Khan from Star Trek II. If an actor playing a new antagonist adopts some character traits of characters from prior films while manifesting an entirely new character, the most obvious choices should be left alone. Of all of the nemeses that have threatened Kirk or even Picard in the motion pictures over the years, Khan is the most obvious choice, and it was distracting, distasteful, and a little annoying that Bana found his inspiration in this character. Of course, with the way the film ended, Kirk may never meet Khan in the likely sequels, so maybe this a minor point in the end.

Still, the most impressive part about Star Trek was that it was funny and exciting and new while remaining true to, at least, foundations provided by the mythology. The ensemble of actors had a great chemistry, and the story possibilities are endless should this cast be migrated to television thanks to the foresight and creativity of the screenwriters and Abrams. In short, the film surpassed my expectations and is actually one of the most enjoyable Star Trek film chapters, in my opinion. What is even funnier is that it is an odd-numbered entry into the film series. Interesting, yes?

In the end, I loved Star Trek. Of course, JJ Abrams can do no wrong in my eyes (I have followed and am following all of his projects, except Felicity, since his breakthrough into Hollywood), but he risked much with this film. It was a calculated risk that paid off in the end, however. I think Star Trek deserves an 8.5 between having minor flaws/very good (thanks to Bana's largely mediocre performance) and being perfectly entertaining. I also think it passes the test! I am in the process of collecting the Star Trek films, but I would love to watch this one a few times more too, just because it was so surprisingly exciting and funny. With this film, Star Trek has voyaged into new, uncharted regions of its own space-time continuum, and, frankly, I am happily along for the ride. Warp speed ahead!

Viewing MAS*H for the AFI Project

pippin06 — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 16:20:13 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

M*A*S*H is on the following AFI lists:

The Original Top 100 (#56)
100 Funniest Films (#7)
100 Greatest Film Songs (#66 - "Suicide is Painless")
The Revised Top 100 (#54)

As a child of the 80s, it probably comes as no great shock that I was at least somewhat, if passingly, familiar with the TV show starring Alan Alda that was based on this film more than I was familiar with the film itself. While I don't remember much of the TV show, as I never watched it with much interest (it was more for adults, after all), and as I haven't picked it up again on TV Land or on some similar syndicated television Mecca, I figured I wouldn't have too many preconceived notions or influences that would color my ability to appreciate the film, which is far less situational and, in some ways, more stream of consciousness than its offspring. I think I might have miscalculated, as I had no concept of how this movie would play out. I don't believe I had many expectations, but of what I had, this film did not meet or coincide with any.

Directed by Robert Altman, the film really has no plot; it was described to me as a "series of events," darkly satrical, that the potential viewer is either going to find funny or not funny. The film depicts the hijinks of members of a Mobil Army Surgical Hospital (i.e. MASH) in the Korean War. Donald Sutherland plays Hawkeye Pierce; Elliott Gould plays Trapper John McIntyre; and Tom Skerritt plays Duke Forrest, and together, these merry three musketeers pass their tours of duty by generally undercutting if not humiliating the more pompous and less martini-drinking members of their unit, including religious zealot Major Frank Burns (Robert Duvall) and Army loyalist Major "Hot Lips" Houlihan (Sally Kellerman). Between gory trips into the operating room, Hawkeye and company cajole themselves into a side trip to Japan for a round of golf and challenge another army unit to a rousing football game. All the while, the film and the film's direction, in care of Altman, become an exercise in being a "fly on the wall," listening in to multiple, simultaneious conversations as if in some board room meeting or crowded bar. Meanwhile, random acts of hilarity punctuate the proceedings.

This frenetic style of filmmaking was certainly an original approach, lending well to the dark comedy slyly masking subtle social commentary about the less logical elements of war. Some of the "series of events" were made funnier by the characters overstepping each other's dialogue in the natural flow of conversation or by delivering punchlines in an almost afterthought-like way. My favorite scene and the one I easily found funniest was the football game, mainly because Hot Lips becomes this slightly crazy cheerleader captain, which inspires several of the players and the coach to lobby crazy insults at her, such as "Hot Lips, you idiot."

The problem with this style of filmmaking is that many of the jokes and situations were tough to pick out amongst the din. The operating room scenes almost put me to sleep because too much was going on and too many people were talking, and even when I tried to focus on someone like Hawkeye, the actors in these scenes were clearly directed to do as many things at once as possible. It was distracting in an annoying way rather than in a funny way.

I think if I was a contemporary of the Vietnam War, I would find this film highly amusing. Altman clearly infused this film with the spirit of anti-war sentiment, the careful rebellion and sense of revolution brought on by flower children and other members of the counterculture. Yet again, however, I find myself marginally turned off by a film of this period. I can appreciate the originality and creativity of the filmmaking style (and I certainly have enjoyed other efforts of Altman's), but I could not relate to this film, even if some of the sight gags and pranks elicited a few chuckles from me. The comedy was borne out of a time and environment that would probably tickle my funny bone more if I had lived in it.

The most delightful part about watching this film was seeing this particular group of stars in their younger heydeys. I am a fan of Donald Sutherland's, I enjoy him in almost every film he is in, and it was a treat to see him in a comedic role when he was young and energetic looking (as a side note, I am bummed about the cancellation of "Dirty Sexy Money" because he was the reason to watch that show!).

Is M*A*S*H the seventh funniest film, as posited by the AFI? I barely laughed at all, and even if dark comedy is supposed to make one squirm more than laugh, I barely even did that. There were parts of the film that had me laughing more than others (the football game, for example). By means of foreshadowing, when I reach the AFI's Funniest list, I will be introducing a new ratings scale designed to rate how funny I think a film is. For now, I think it's fair to say that M*A*S*H likely appeals to the funny bones of a particular audience, and, sadly, I'm not a member of that audience.

Still, I can see why the AFI saw fit to rank the film. I have never seen a film like this one, before or since, comedy or otherwise. It seems to have been one of those fresh and uniquely timed entries into film history, revered enough to not solicit too many poor imitations. And though I didn't relate to the film, my inability to connect to it doesn't totally detract from its place in the annals of American films because it is what it is, an inventive and unusual comedy.

On the other hand, the movie is not perfect, and a comedy billed to have universal appeal (as I imagine all highly ranked comedies should have) should live up to its advertising. After long, hard, careful consideration, I feel M*A*S*H merits a 7 on the patented ratings scale for being shaky but entertaining. It gets points for originality and for spawning a widely acclaimed television show but loses points for being less than funny and something more than a time capsule for its period (as all of the late 60s/early 70s films on the list seem to be). Also, the creativity of the filmmaking format aside, it probably warrants at least three viewings to catch all of the jokes and sight gags, but I didn't find it funny enough the first time to want to purchase it, so it does not pass the test. Perhaps, if I see it on cable, I'll give it another chance, but I think M*A*S*H is symbolic of a moment in time, and that moment has clearly passed.

Oscar Flashback: Kinsey (2004)

pippin06 — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 16:32:06 GMT

What's an Oscar Flashback (tm)? Read here:

Next on my Netflix queue was Kinsey, for which Laura Linney was nominated for the Best Supporting Actress Oscar (film year, 2004; awarding year, 2005). The other nominees for Best Supporting Actress in this category were:

The Aviator - Cate Blanchett (Winner)

Closer - Natalie Portman

Hotel Rwanda - Sophie Okonedo

Sideways - Virginia Madsen

This movie also represents the fourth of five LGBT-themed Oscar movies at the top of my Netflix queue (thanks to my stream of consciousness queuing). Just in case you were keeping track.

It's been at least a week since I've seen this film, but for some reason (well, for good reason), I remember it distinctly. After all, it's a movie about sex! Well, it's actually a movie about Alfred Kinsey, the first and most renowned scientific researcher of sex and sexuality in humans, but since the topic is what it is, there was quite a bit of talk about sex without, you know, venturing into pornographic territory. It's hard to forget a film like that.

Kinsey is, naturally, a biopic. Liam Neeson plays the title character and real-life scientist, and the film follows Kinsey from childhood with his strict, religious, and authoritarian father (John Lithgow), who wanted him to become an engineer and was sorely disappointed when Al chose insects and entomology, to his death. His primary research centered on the study of a specific genus of wasp, and he was very gifted, attracting the attention of equally gifted student Clara (Linney). His scientific attentions began to shift to the behavior patterns of human sexuality, partially borne out of his and Clara's own awkward courtship and ensuing difficulty in engaging in post-wedding sexual intercourse. His interest led him to postulate that most "evidence" of such behavior patterns was rooted in conjecture rather than research and documentation, and so, he devised a plan to poll research subjects and write a definitive treatise on the subject. Beginning with a "marriage" course at Indiana University, where sex was discussed openly, Kinsey began a series of frank interviews with persons of all types, aided by research assistants played by Chris O'Donnell, Peter Sarsgaard, and Timothy Hutton. He also devised the now renowned Kinsey scale of sexuality and eventually published Sexual Behavior in the Human Male, which was greeted with controversy, since it revealed that male sexual experiences were wider and more varied than expected, including practices contemporarily considered dangerous or perverted in the 40s, such as pre-marital sex and masturbation. When Kinsey attempted to publish a book with a female equivalent, his work was met with greater opposition. In the meantime, his own home life was complicated by his often frank and uncompromised discussion of sex and sexualtiy, his bisexual relationship with his assistant (Saarsgard), and his often dangerous yen to experiment sexually.

Kinsey was a fascinating film in many ways. Written and directed by Bill Condon, who has many film credits to his name (including Gods and Monsters as director and Chicago as screenwriter), the film is a fairly comprehensive discussion of Kinsey and his work. Unfortunately, because his work was so complicated and so controversial, two hours of film did not leave enough room to fully flush out dynamics that were briefly touched upon but never given full treatment or resolution and that, frequently, detracted from the film's focus.

For example, the film did well to portray some of the difficulties Kinsey and wife Clara had navigating open sexual waters, but, while Laura Linney was given scenes in which to display some of her sincerest emotional reactions, oftentimes, the end result of their troubles was never shown or was complicated by other complications in their lives that were never completely flushed out. There was also narrative time devoted to the struggles Kinsey's assistants had with open sexuality, particularly as they themselves aimed to commit to stable, heterosexual relationships, but these detours often seemed scattered. In many ways, there was too much going on all at once to make heads or tails of what the focus of the film ought to be, even as the focus should clearly have been Kinsey's life in the wake of his chosen life's work.

That's not to say that the film itself wasn't a decent exploration of Kinsey and a decent biopic in and of itself. When the focus was more streamlined to connect Kinsey's work to the public response (including a subtly hilarious turn by Tim Curry as a university colleague opposed to Kinsey's teachings), the film was at its strongest. When the film juxtaposed Kinsey's arguably courageous choice of study against his austere father's traditionalist tendencies, the film was at its strongest. The film seemed to lose itself otherwise in the quagmire of emotions connected to everyone associated with Kinsey, which were all valid points of context for Kinsey's work and should have been included, even as their cohesion eroded throughout the film. His family was a logical focal nucleus, but even his children's struggles to cope with having such an unusual father were given only a scene's worth of treatment without re-addressing them later in the film.

Is this broad exploration into Kinsey's associates and relations a flaw in the film, since the subject of Kinsey's work was such a broad and emotional topic that eventually, in some ways, spiralled out of control for the man who would pioneer these studies? Yes, in so far as such exploration bogged the film down, particularly as the film detoured into the personal lives of the assistants and their lovers or partners. Still, the performances were excellent and totally believable by every single cast member, and this film was engaging from beginning to end. Particularly impressive was Mr. Neeson, who tends to have a commanding presence in most of his films and who inhabits his characters (and he's played many real-life historical figures) with true passion and carefully researched skill and nuance. Linney is always good, but as I've officially seen all of the nominees in this category except for Sideways, at this juncture, I can safely say that Cate Blanchett deserved the award that year (and was a shoo-in at the time) for nailing a spot-on, truly eerie performance as Katharine Hepburn in the Aviator, even if I enjoyed this film far more than that one (for the record, The Aviator is my least favorite Scorsese film to date).

I digress. Kinsey took on a heady (no pun intended) topic and, despite some narrative convolution, was actually an interesting and fascinating portrait of an interesting and fascinating man. Thus, in patented ratings-scale world, I believe it is fair to rate Kinsey a 7.5, for being between shaky/entertaining and having minor flaws but being very good. As for the test, I can't really see myself watching it repeatedly (and, therefore, it does not pass). It's an interesting film, but it's not the kind of film you can pull out for a giggle, unless you're truly a disciple of the man it's discussing. Still, as the only known film to broach this particular biography, I would recommend Kinsey, for the film's bravado and for the bravado of the inspiration behind it.

Revisiting All Quiet on the Western Front for the AFI Project

pippin06 — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 01:56:58 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

All Quiet on the Western Front is on the following AFI lists:

The Original Top 100 (#54)
10 Top 10's (#7 Epic)

I saw All Quiet on the Western Front a first time when I was attempting to complete this project previously. I think I have also seen the 70s version (which, if I'm not mistaken, sets it in a different war that the First World War). I remember liking it and thinking it was powerful on the first viewing, an opinion that remains true today, after watching it a second time instantly on Netflix. This film is a marvel for the year in which it was released: it contains a potent anti-war message and intensely realistic action that laid the groundwork for many a war film to follow it. While some may feel that the film is dated (and, yes, it is), there are elements of the film that will endure, forever timeless, which is why I think the AFI saw fit to rank this film on its original list and rightly so.

All Quiet on the Western Front tells the story of several young German boys, urged to enlist in the army and fight for their country against the Allies in the first world war. The viewer then watches as the boys transform, from wide-eyed, patriotic innocence to cynical and world-weary veterans, conditioned by the hardships of battle and the constant exposure to death. The plot is no more complicated than that, and while the cast is led by Lew Ayers, it is otherwise an ensemble of unknowns, who made this film almost 80 years ago.

All Quiet on the Western Front is as powerful as it is because it broaches and utilizes many controversial aspects. There are reviewers before me who criticize the film's datedness, attributing its perceived quaintness and time capsule quality to the fact that it predates the atrocities of even World War II and the future beyond. I would argue that it is precisely this quality that makes the film intensely more resonant than any other element, a quality that lends a spookiness to the proceedings because modern viewers know what history produced. Consider the stroke of genius in telling the story from the German perspective; after all, they led the Axis powers into World War I and later produced one of history's greatest tyrants, but the soldiers that fought for their side were naive young men just like those in any other army that fought in the Great War or other wars before or since. The acting ensemble was also superb; yes, they were a bit "theatrical" (what does one expect for 1930), but they were also unadulterated in their performances and portrayls of the fear, anguish, guilt, and other emotions brought on in a war. I imagine these portrayals may have been quite shocking to contemporary viewers.

In fact, it's the realism of this piece that is its single most impressive element. The battle scenes are actually quite intense and so creatively filmed. The information on the movie's Spout page indicates that Director Lewis Milestone pioneered the sweeping crane shot to capture panoramic scenes of death and destruction. That may be true, but I was most impressed with the cinematography and inventive uses of lighting and sound to make the atmosphere of battle so real, so palpable and made even more impressive by its digital remastering. I sometimes marvel at how early filmmakers had to be so much more creative and resourceful in their application of the motion picture, and this film should stand up as a testament of such pioneering filmmaking.

Surprisingly, the film did not make the AFI's Revised list (even if it registered on one of the ten top 10's - though is it really an epic?). It was replaced by M*A*S*H (originally number 56 and the next film on my AFI countdown, as I've already reviewed The Sound of Music). I wonder why. This is a film that I would argue is a great American film and in many ways propelled filmmaking technology forward as much as Milestone's predecessors, including D.W. Griffith.

Now, granted, the film isn't perfect. Aside from its eighty years of age, it's nearly three hours long and drags tangibly in spots. Some of the acting and written dialogue is really very cheesy too, but this is a film from the early days of talkies, so I think some forgiveness is owed the picture.

The ending is perfection, though. If I could rank movie endings as the AFI did films, I would put the ending to All Quiet on the Western Front amongst the top ten at least. It was another brilliant stroke of genius on the director's part and all at once encapsulated the themes of the story in the loss of innocence and contrast of the beauty of life to the ugliness brought on by war (and resulting death).

As ratings go, I'm inclined to award the antiquated but awesome All Quiet on the Western Front with an 8.5, between minor flaws/very good and perfectly entertaining, though I would say I love the film because I love the concept and the decidedly avant garde message during a decade when anti-war statements might have been construed as unpatriotic. As to the test, however, this one's not a keeper for me. As I indicated, the film drags, and I've already seen it repeatedly. I highly recommend the film, though, to anyone who likes watching war films, who likes exploring early cinema, who likes comparing and contrasting filmmaking techniques, or who can relate to the film's themes. It's undeniable that this film was far ahead of its time in all of those respects.

Uplifting Up Soars to Tried and True If Not Necessarily New Heights

pippin06 — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 01:41:37 GMT

Over a week ago, I made one of my rare trips to the movie theater for one of my annual devotionals to Pixar. Yes, folks, I have officially seen every single Pixar film at the show and within a week of its release. I, no doubt, have an overt bias toward this production company, but let's face it. Pixar's worst film (which for me is Cars right now) is still ahead of the curve and better than 90% of the films out there. Not to mention the fact that the originator of CGI entertainment still remains original, while all of the copycats have languished in the mediocrity of imitiation.

Up is Pixar's tenth feature and a strange hybrid of the studio's most original, and yet, most cliched story concept to date (some might peg that brand on Wall-E, but I beg to differ). The first act treats us to the introduction of Carl Fredericksen and how he came to meet his future wife and soulmate, Ellie. As childhood friends and sweethearts, they shared a love of adventure and dreamt of exploring South America and the legendary Paradise Falls. They held onto this dream throughout their marriage and adulthood, through highs such as the purchase of their fixer-upper of a home (once an abandoned dilapidation they made their imaginary zeppelin) and lows, such as their inability to have children. Through it all, they remained devoted, until Ellie succumbs to old age and illness. Carl (voiced by Ed Asner) is left alone but for his promise to his now deceased wife that he would seek their adventure and find Paradise Falls. The trouble is, Carl is something of a curmudgeon and unfortunately has one of those houses located smack within what looks to be a newly rezoned commercial development project. When the construction foreman (voiced by Pixar's good luck charm, Cliff, I mean, John Ratzenberger), who tries to encourage Carl to move on, receives a blow to his noggin from an otherwise frustrated Carl, thereby causing a judge to court-order him into a retirement home, Carl takes action. As seen in all of the previews, he transforms his home into one giant zeppelin of his own, lifted by thousands of colorful helium balloons. He has two problems, however. Young and precocious nature scout Russell, who has been bothering Mr. Fredricksen in the name of a few good-deed patches, stows away on his airborne front porch. What's worse, Carl encounters a bit of turbulence and, courtesy of Russell, lands on the wrong side of the chasm containing the famed Paradise Falls. Thus, Carl and Russell take his now floating house (not unlike a land speeder in Star Wars) by the reins and drag it through tangled jungle, only to encounter strange birds, talking dogs, Carl's childhood hero turned lunatic hunter (voiced by Christopher Plummer), and more adventure than a man of advancing age bargained for.

I read this article earlier this week, which was hot-linked to the imdb's home page. The article can be found here:

http://www.overthinkingit.com/2009/06/03/pixars-up-paradise-lost-at-paradise-falls/

Well, it's really more of a blog post, but it's theme contemplates how Up and Milton's poem Paradise Lost share some noteworthy similarities. I wonder if these similarities were purposeful or subconscious on the part of the writers.

What the article most expertly discusses is how Up is a lot deeper and more grounded than its whimsical colorful balloons suggest. In many ways, this fable is an allegory for growing pains, particularly with regard to growing old. It's an affirmation of life and love and camraderie, and the story is told in a frightfully inventive way, with humor and heartwrenching sadness. The silent movie giving the viewer the glimpse of Carl and Ellie's life together was so touching, it elicited many a vocal "aw" from the crowd with which I saw this film. The talking dogs, particularly the malfunctioning translator on the Doberman named Alpha were hilarious. The voice acting by Ed Asner and Christopher Plummer was pitch-perfect, and their animated likenesses (which were nothing like their real likenesses) were textured and engaging.

The animation, as always, is superb in this film. Each brightly hued balloon looks almost real, so much so, it's almost as if you can smell that balloony smell. The depictions of the South American jungle were as lush and exotic as I would imagine the real thing to be. Pixar's expertise in creating a world, an animated one no less, in which the viewer can completely suspend disbelief is unmatched, and Up proves to be another example of that truth.

This film, however, is not Pixar's best. In fact, I'm thinking it rates in the lower five for me. It comes down to the fact that while some of the film was artfully and classically rendered, giving it that shade of originality that is practically Pixar's trademark, there were elements of the film that detracted from its potential of being another masterpiece. The Russell kid was annoying. He all at once provided something of an antagonistic force and an appropriate contrast of youth, energy, and innocence compared to Carl's elderly cynicism and grief, but his purpose aside, the voice actor got on my nerves. Not all of the talking dogs were funny. The one that ends up following them around was too close to the dog in classic cartoons that frequently asked, "Can I play with the ball, George?" What was that dog's name? Well, this dog was a direct descendant of the other dog. The plausibility of a floating or flying house aside, I could not understand how an elderly man who needs a cane to walk and a snot-nosed kid alone could drag a sturdy two-story, even if gravity wasn't its primary concern. Also, the frenetic second act seemed disjointed in comparison to the simple and understated first act; then again, I know the studio tries to reach the child members of its audience as much as the adults, and the second act caters most to a younger crowd. The short attached to the film was also not Pixar's best, but that's the other great part about seeing Pixar films in the theater: one gets to see the bonus short film to be later included in the DVD extras.

Still, I enjoyed Up. Like all Pixar films, it entertained me; it made me laugh, it made me cry, it made me puzzle. I think Up merits an 8.5 on the patented ratings scale. It's on my like/love boundary and falls between very good/minor flaws and perfectly entertaining. I consider many of the detractions I cited above as nitpicks, but I also still loved the film enough, possibly per my Pixar bias, to give it that rank. It also naturally passes the test. I would not hesitate to maintain my otherwise complete Pixar collection with its latest entry. In any event, Up makes the spirit soar and is worth every penny and second of its 96 minute running time. Word of caution, however: the 3-D feature is nice but really nothing to get excited about. If you see it at the theater, save two bucks and resign yourself to two-dimensional viewing. You're not otherwise missing much but an uncomfortable hour and a half with overpriced plastic spectacles.

Oscar Flashback: Transamerica (2005)

pippin06 — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 23:40:03 GMT

What's an Oscar Flashback (tm)? Read here:

Next on my Netflix queue was Transamerica, for which Felicity Huffman was nominated for the Best Actress Oscar (film year, 2005; awarding year, 2006). The other nominees for Best Actress in this category were:

Walk the Line - Reese Witherspoon (Winner)

Mrs. Henderson Presents - Judi Dench

Pride and Prejudice - Keira Knightley

North Country - Charlize Theron

This movie also represents the third of five LGBT-themed Oscar movies at the top of my Netflix queue (thanks to my stream of consciousness queuing). Just in case you were keeping track.

I watched this film a couple of weeks ago. I'm starting to watch more films on my much-anticipated and needed two month break from community theater but am officially and woefully behind on the reviewing side. As such, some of these entries may not be the best, owing to the fact that I now have to comb deeper recesses of my memory to remember movie details than I normally would.

Transamerica is about Bree (Huffman), born Stanley, a pre-operative transsexual woman who, shortly before surgery, learns she fathered a boy who is now 17 and in jail. Bree is happy to continue with the surgery, but her preop therapist (Elizabeth Pena), believes that Bree must confront her past fully before accepting her re-engendered future. Bree posts bail for Toby (Kevin Zegers) in New York City but does so posing as a charity worker and agrees to transport Toby to Los Angeles. She buys a car and gets to know her long-lost son, all the while maintaining the secret of who she really is, particularly after learning that Toby is, himself, painfully searching for his long-lost father.

Transamerica had a lot of heart. The story, which could have been turned into a cringingly soap-opera type affair, was actually told with humor and the slightest tinge of sardonic cynicism, making it endearing and entertaining. Felicity Huffman was wonderful in the role, though, as she is Lynette Scavo on Desperate Housewives, and as I don't think she is particularly mannish looking, I had trouble with suspension of disbelief for much of the film. The nuances she excelled at were in the gamut of emotions experienced by Bree in her particularly unusual situation, even if her masculine tone of voice and awkward walk did little to make a viewer like me believe that she was supposed to be a man in woman's clothing.

Transamerica succeeds in its well-written story and screenplay by writer and debut director Duncan Tucker. The heartfelt confusion and angst by both mother/father and deeply disturbed son is the soul of the film, and between Huffman and Zegers' performances and the direction eliciting those performances, the film was engaging throughout, and the characters were relatable and sympathetic.

Transamerica is weakest, however, in some of the kitschy art direction and costuming and in some of the eccentric supporting performances. The divine Fionnula Flanagan appears as Bree's overwrought mother, who finds Bree's life choice ultimately tragic. There's no mistaking this feeling of hers because Flanagan takes her character to hysterically over-the-top dimensions, and, as a result and for the first time, I was turned off by her presence in a film. I enjoyed Graham Greene's brief cameo as an Indian trucker with a romantic interest in Bree, but I'm not sure what purpose his scene or story served the picture as a whole. I also found it interestingly stereotypical that Bree overcompensated for her lack of biological femininity by having the pinkest home and wardrobe I've ever seen. It was like Coco Chanel without the flattering outlines and felt as over the top as Flanagan's performance, even as Huffman's sympathetic portrayal of Bree was charmingly understated.

The soundtrack, however, was excellent. All of the songs were so appropriate for the mood or emotion being explored, and I think Mr. Tucker has some true potential in film if he continues his career. I don't remember any one particular song, but I do remember thinking that the film was made more enjoyable by the choice of music in the background.

In fact, all in all, Transamerica was a pleasant and refreshingly humorous exploration not only of transsexuality but of the effects it has on loved ones, known and unknown. I say refreshing because so often, films covering this subject tend to explore fear and bigotry and the ill consequences of prejudice, so I find films like this and Hedwig and the Angry Inch to be more compelling because they have a humorous blush without compromising or sugarcoating the serious side. For my money, I enjoyed much of the film and was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it. I think it deserves an 8 on the patented ratings scale for having minor flaws as noted above but being very good. I don't think it passes the patented test, though, because I can't see myself watching it more than once. Also, of the 2005 nominees for Best Actress, I've only otherwise seen the winning performance by Reese Witherspoon, and though I give many props to Felicity for taking on the difficult role of playing a transwoman, I still think wholeheartedly that Reese deserved the gold for channeling June Carter so well. Of course, all readers are open to agree or disagree if, you know, they go in for that sort of thing.

Revisiting Amadeus for the AFI Project

pippin06 — Sun, 31 May 2009 15:49:24 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

Amadeus is on the following AFI list:

The Original Top 100 (#53)

Greetings, ladies and gentlemen of Spoutland! Long time no blog. I blame this on my other great cultural love, theater. It is super difficult to watch films while, in this case, stage managing a little musical called Guys and Dolls at a local community theater for six days out of a week. As such, not only have I not been able to see many films (and thereby review them), I nearly forgot that I re-watched this little gem from the 80s a month ago, a film that curiously made the original AFI Greatest list but failed to register on any of the subsequent lists.

I first saw Amadeus when I was in the eighth grade. For some reason, my English teacher - who never really felt any sort of pressure to make her students actually do work - showed us this film. At the time, I didn't really like it. My impression of the film at the tender age of 13 was that it was weird and offensively unsympathetic to one of the world's most renowned and celebrated composers, and that made me mad. As a budding violinist just discovering an appreciation for classical music by the widely acknowledged "greats," I didn't appreciate the fact that the ingenious Mozart and his image were being sullied by this movie. Plus, the movie reminded me of the marginally related Falco song "Rock Me, Amadeus," which was an annoying synth-pop one-hit wonder from the same decade. I do not like that song even still. It's annoying, I tell you!

Re-watching the film for this project, I've revised my opinion somewhat. I'm not sure that it is deserving of being called one of America's greatest films, but it's certainly a much better film than I initially gave it credit for. One of its most winning qualities is the fact that the filmmakers, particularly Director Milos Forman (who also directed One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest), definitely knew and appreciated music and painted the film in such a wash that this knowledge and passion for music permeates each and every frame. Plus, the film boasts one of the greatest musical scores of film - incorporating both composers Mozart and Salieri's works at intermittent intervals to the delight of music lovers' ears, including mine.

The film is told from Salieri's (F. Murray Abraham) perspective as he rots away in his advanced age in an insane asylum. Under the guise of confession to a local priest, Salieri recalls his life from the moment he was introduced to prodigal but boorish Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce) and the ensuing, unstated rivalry that developed between them. Salieri, after all, rued Mozart's genius and instant success; the famed Mozart lacked proper social graces and humility, after all, whilst Salieri spent many days genuflecting before God and questioning why Mozart was blessed with talent when he, himself, worked so hard, only to be overshadowed by his younger counterpart in places such as the court of Austrian Emperor Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones). Thus, Salieri works to sabotage the young Mozart, disguising himself as a benefactor, commissioning the composition of a "Requiem" that costs Mozart everything, even as the prodigy's drinking and other appetites consume him first.

Amadeus is a curious film to me. On the one hand, the grandiose and operatic story meditating on how life imitates art and vice versa, is something rarely equaled in cinema. It's a true story at its core, but it's based on bits of urban legend derived from the relative lack of information available about this particular relationship. The film is opulent, with extravagant art direction and costuming reflecting its eighteenth century period. F. Murray Abraham's performance is tour de force - over the top but in a way so genuine and so relatable that its melodrama is forgiven. Every opera, every performance of either composer's works was performed and filmed with great care. This is truly a classical music lover's film, from the very opening frames to the last.

I don't love this film, though, and it comes down to some of the choices taken by the filmmakers. I read that it was conscious on Forman's part to direct the performers to use their native accents, most of which were American and inconsistently so. As such, nobody sounded like anyone else, even though all were supposed to be Austrian, and I found this lack of consistency extremely distracting to my suspension of disbelief. The quirky laugh aside, I was never convinced by Hulce's portrayal of the titular man - even if Mozart was a man-child incapable of propriety, enabled though he was according to his genius, Hulce just seemed like the wrong choice for the part. He certainly played up the emotionally underdeveloped sides of Mozart and provided great contrast to Abraham's stalwart and sour Salieri, but there was a quality about Hulce's performance that unsettled me, though I can't put my finger on or give a name to this quality. Maybe it's the notion that I could never buy him as the genius, even if it wasn't hard to buy him as the garish and arrogant young boor who possessed the genius. While the film lauded Mozart's unparalleled body of work even as it convincingly portrayed him to be the court jester, every time Hulce floated onto screen in scenes where Mozart was composing or showing off his prodigy, I had trouble believing his characterizations. I could be the minority in this reaction, but I can't help these reactions just the same.

The All Movie Guide review at the bottom of this page discusses how thoroughly the film explores paradox – the paradox of Mozart the man, the paradox of Salieri's love-hate obsession with him. True, the film walks a fine tightrope of balancing contradictions in an intellectually satisfying way. As entertainment, though, I didn't love this film as much others because I was too annoyed or distracted with the aforementioned elements. I will say this for Amadeus: though it clocks in at just about three hours, it never drags. Forman, who seems to be a contemplative director adept at parsing out emotional resonance and philosophical undercurrent from his unusual topics, ingeniously conducted the pace of the film not unlike the movements in an opera. In fact, the entire movie seemed to ebb and flow – crescendo and decrescendo, if you will – to the passion and genius of the composers behind the music, and this fact leaves me liking the movie quite a bit, even if I can't love it.

Is it one of America's greatest films? That is the big question. I'm not so sure, but I leave others to ponder and to answer it. Incidentally, The Deer Hunter replaced Amadeus at this rank on the Revised list (The Deer Hunter jumped up several spots from its original rank). For my money, Amadeus has aspects of greatness but is a film I would not place on my personal 100 greatest.

Still, the film is very good. In fact, I'm inclined to rate it a 7.5 between shaky/entertaining and minor flaws/very good on the patented ratings scale, owing to the few distracting flaws I discussed above (even if they are flaws in my eyes only). As to the test, I don't think it passes. I'm glad I watched it again, but I think twice is enough for me. The best part about Amadeus in my opinion is the music and the celebration of musical genius, and that's something I can appreciate and enjoy without having to watch the movie again and at any time I wish.

Oscar Flashback: Monster (2003)

pippin06 — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 20:40:12 GMT

What's an Oscar Flashback (tm)? Read here:

Next on my Netflix queue was Monster, for which Charlize Theron won the Best Actress Oscar (film year, 2003; awarding year, 2004). The other nominees for Best Actress in this category were:

21 Grams - Naomi Watts

In America - Samantha Morton

Something's Gotta Give - Diane Keaton

Whale Rider - Keisha Castle-Hughes

This movie also represents the second of five LGBT-themed Oscar movies at the top of my Netflix queue (thanks to my stream of consciousness queuing). Just in case you were keeping track.

Monster tells the true story of serial killer Aileen Wuornos (Theron), a hooker who had been abused as a child and resorted to prostitution when she ran away from home in Michigan and went to Florida at the age of 13. One night in the late 80s, when her car broke down (or she was stranded by her latest john, I wasn't quite clear on that point), she ends up in a local gay bar where she meets Selby (Christina Ricci), who is immediately attracted to "Lee." While Lee recoils at first, the two form a fast friendship that later evolves into a romantic and then physical relationship. Selby leaves the shelter of her father's friends, with whom she was staying to "clear her head" after her father found out she was gay, for a life of cheap hotel rooms and apartments and relative starvation with Lee. To pay the bills, Lee keeps hooking, but one night, when a potential john rapes her and tries to kill her, Lee manages to get free and kill him in self defense. The action is understandable and sympathetic, but the incident incites Lee's inner levee to break, and she begins to attack and kill other clients as if in vengeance for her lot in life and previous abuse. In so doing, she slowly loses her mind. All the while, Selby watches helplessly as her lover seems to lose all connection to reality and as law enforcement officials pick up on the trail of murders and bear down on Lee and Selby.

Apparently, there were documentaries about Wuornos that partially informed this film version. Wuornos was ultimately sentenced to death, a sentence that was completed in 2002. The footnote to the film provides this fact, and it's not really a spoiler – information is widely available about this woman and her actions – but it's important to know when considering what the filmmakers might have been trying to say by making this film to begin with.

All in all, I found this film to be another mixed bag of good points and bad points. To start with the good, much talk was had about how Theron might have won her Oscar because she was de-glamorized for the film to play this woman beaten down by life and poverty, but attributing this performance to make-up only is to do it an injustice. Theron clearly threw herself into the role so much that her facial expressions did not even seem to be hers anymore. Actually, at times, she kind of looked like Katherine Heigl, but that's a digression. My disbelief was completely suspended because Theron played this disturbed, traumatized woman so well, I actually forgot it was her by the end of the film. If she didn't deserve the award, I don't know who did. Of the five nominees, however, I've only seen Something's Gotta Give (and in that film, Diane Keaton was acting like, well, Diane Keaton).

By the same token, I felt Christina Ricci was completely miscast. Maybe it's the fact that she still looks like a child, or maybe it was the fact that Selby was painted to be insecure and immature, but the whole performance felt off to me. Selby elicited some sympathy when her life became a nightmare in the wake of Lee's deteriorating sanity, and it's not Ricci's skill that left something to be desired; I think she did well. I just don't think she was right for the part. Maybe I don't know enough about Wuornos' real-life lover, but I couldn't suspend disbelief for Ricci as Selby, and it left me feeling extreme disjointedness and a sense of surreal about the entire film.

It didn't help that the film actually devoted some focus to Selby's particular story. If the film was supposed to be an examination of Wuornos in an effort to challenge the viewer to sympathize (or at least understand) the motives of this particular serial killer, it didn't make sense to show Selby's familial and other struggles for acceptance of her sexuality. This lack of focus is probably why I had such a hard time buying Ricci in the part. The film had enough to deal with in trying to paint a picture of a troubled woman's descent into madness and violence without adding this other dynamic into the mix. This lack of focus also served to undermine any appreciation or enjoyment I might have had of the film.

While the director of the film, Patty Jenkins, handled what could only be classified as controversial subject matter with deference and balance, the question still remains whether the film achieved what it was aiming to do. For the most part, I think it did, if the point was to dissect Wuornos' motivations and to give her an aspect of humanity in a situation for which she could easily, and possibly rightfully, be vilified without redemption. After all, her life and times were hard, and the first murder could at least be understandable even as all of the subsequent murders were neither understandable nor defensible. The problem is, the film was trying to divide its focus between Wuornos as a killer and Wuornos as a lover, and neither aspect was given a sufficient flush to correlate and to ultimately connect the viewer to her story. Also, by "connect," I don't mean "relate," but if the subject is important enough in this director's eye to film, then there is obviously a message or a stand to make here, and I think the film was trying to take too many stands at once. With focus on Wuornos' life, there should have been a bit more narrative to further explain her childhood, other than hints at the beginning and a hysterical monologue more than halfway through the film as the guilt of Lee's actions begins to overwhelm her. Plus, it was difficult to understand why Theron as Wuornos narrated the piece if some focus was going to be given to the Selby character too. All in all, the movie was just not filmed in a very tight or concentrated manner, and Theron's performance notwithstanding, lacked or at least undermined the emotional punch for which the film seemed so desperately to strive.

As another small gripe, while I quite enjoy Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'," and maybe the lyrics fit some of the sentiments of the film, the use of the song for this film furthered its surreal quality, and surreal does not fit with a story that is supposed to be based on and in reality. Yes, the song was period (the late 80s), but the use of this song struck me as kind of hokey when the subject matter of this film was anything but.

All in all, I did not really care for Monster the film, even if Theron's performance was, in fact, Oscar-caliber. The lack of narrative focus and other elements made Theron's contribution to the film that much more heroic even as the film itself lost me to its mire of related but under serviced themes and/or messages. After some consideration, I believe this film merits a 6.5 between cute/mediocre and shaky/entertaining, and it doesn't pass the test. This film undertook a monster of a topic but ultimately lost its teeth by its finish.

Viewing From Here to Eternity for the AFI Project

pippin06 — Sat, 25 Apr 2009 23:36:01 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

From Here to Eternity is on the following AFI lists:

The Original Top 100 (#52)
100 Years...100 Passions (#20)

I watched this next AFI entry instantly on Netflix. The only impression I had about this film going in was the vague feeling that I had seen it before. Now, having seen it for certain, I can't say I had previously watched it, at least not in its entirety. I might have seen parts, but it was so long ago, the entire film felt fresh, despite the slight twinge déjà vu clouding the proceedings.

Apparently, the film is based on a novel that was very popular in the years preceding its release. It has a very melodramatic novel-esque sort of title, I think. I've never read the book. The factoid I found most curious prior to starting the film is that, though this film is ranked somewhat highly on the Original AFI list, it was not ranked at all on the Revised/Anniversary list. I was curious as to why that might be. After seeing it, I think the answer isn't as mysterious as the question.

From Here to Eternity tells the story of an army barracks in Honolulu, a few miles from Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, just prior to the bombing of that port and the involvement of the United States in World War II. Private Robert E. Lee "Prew" Prewitt (Montgomery Clift) arrives at the barracks as a transplant after getting into some trouble at his previous post, and the presiding captain, Holmes, who is something of a corrupt and ambitious officer, immediately informs Prew that he was given special treatment in hopes that he will compete for the barracks' boxing team as the middleweight superstar he is reputed to be. Prew, who quit boxing because he sent his last opponent into a coma, refuses, and Captain Holmes and his boxing squad see fit to never let Prew forget it, giving him the worst details and generally bullying him, even despite intervention from his buddy Maggio (Frank Sinatra, in an Oscar-winning supporting role). In the background, silently watching over him as much as getting his own needling in, is Lieutenant Milt Warden (Burt Lancaster), a no-nonsense unit supervisor who likes Prew against his better judgment. He also likes the captain's wife Karen (Deborah Kerr) against his better judgment. Karen and the captain, meanwhile, have spent the best part of their married years cheating on each other, and when she notices the spark between her and Warden, she obliges, replete with the famous make-out scene on the beach. While they are carrying on, Prew is surviving through his superb mastery of the bugle, by keeping to himself, and by happily accepting the tutelage of Maggio in taking in the sights and liquid delights at the New Congress Club, a members-only gentleman's club, where Prew finds Loreen, also known as Alma, (Donna Reed, in an Oscar-winning supporting role), a high-class hooker with a soft spot for his dewy eyes. While they clearly grow to love each other, and while Karen and Warden have a sincere love as well, neither man can abandon their love for the army nor for the country they have sworn to protect.

This film has its good points and its bad points. On the good side, the film is well acted, even if not well written or well directed. The most impressive performance belonged to Donna Reed, who was not at all Donna Reed-like in this against-type role. There were times when she portrayed an ugly and cynical worldview, and her fears and passions for Prew were decidedly sultry and sincere. It was probably the best performance of her career. Similarly, "ol' blue eyes" was a treat to watch as the funny and touching Maggio, who becomes involved in an ongoing fight for his life with the sadistic stockade sergeant, Fatso Judson (Ernest Borgnine), though his final scenes rang a bit over the top.

Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr were also good, and I guess their implied sexual and overtly adulterous love affair was quite the taboo-scoffer in the year of this film's release (1953). Bold as it was, however, the sex and passion of the picture was undermined by stunted and melodramatic dialogue.

In fact, that is my biggest complaint about this whole film: the entire story is portrayed in a cringingly melodramatic way. There's a primary plot point centered on the army and its inner workings, but the secondary plot points, notably the love affairs, were a touch histrionic, almost like soap operas (and, for the record, I don't really enjoy soap operas). They were indicative of the period, to be sure, but they also felt forced and unnatural and, in many ways, not relatable. There was a sweetness about Prew and Loreen and a sexy-ness about Warden and Karen, but, in the end, these love affairs are designed to be tragic, and the writing and dialogue, whether it originated from the novel or can be attributed to the adapting screenwriter's design, played more like dime-store romance novel than epic love story. In fact, some of the dialogue was simply downright cheesy.

As for technical achievements, the only scene that wowed me with its filmmaking acuity was when the bombing of Pearl Harbor began. The way it was filmed, with swooping planes crisscrossing the skies over the barracks, and the shots of running bodies on the ground meeting grisly ends like dominoes toppled by automatic airborne gunfire was actually quite exciting and gave me goose bumps, in a way that the film "Pearl Harbor" never did. The sound and sound effects in this portion of the film were quite impressive for the year in which it was released. Fred Zinnemann's direction in this particular part of the film was also extremely poignant, as the focus seemed to shift toward patriotism, honor, and duty, which is why the film resonates more like a war movie than a romance drama. Of course, the pacing for the entire rest of the film belied the direction toward the exciting bombing scenes by being methodical and slow (and, yes, I experienced some sleepiness).

Is it one of America's 100 greatest films in history? I would argue no. It's really the makings of an early summer blockbuster but doesn't have the solid foundation and building blocks, such as good writing, to give it that "greatness" sheen. Incidentally, the movie that replaced it at this rank was Taxi Driver, so all in all, the idea that the Revised list is more reflective of timelessness and greatness – and the need to make a Revised list to begin with - is believable. I'm not exactly sure what attracted the AFI to this film in the first place, so, perhaps, someone who enjoyed it better than me might like to comment.

Ultimately, though, I enjoyed parts of From Here to Eternity, though I did not necessarily enjoy the film as a whole. It's not a film that engaged me consistently, and though it might have been a successful movie upon its release, it has not held up well as a film that merits a "greatest" rank or a film that transcends its era in timelessness or even as a film I might be inclined to pull out to watch or to recommend. There are other, better-written war romances and better war films in general. There are also better films about life in the army. As such, I'm inclined to rate this film a 6.5 for being between cute/mediocre and shaky/entertaining. I wouldn't call the film mediocre, but it's not necessarily good either. From Here to Eternity also does not pass the test, for the reasons I stated above, and I would only recommend the film if one indiscriminately enjoys films of this type or is a fan of any of the actors in this ensemble cast; in fact, I think it would be a good late night old-movie-channel popcorn flick if not a worthwhile destination movie.

Reel Thoughts

The Very Titled Away We Go Travels to Touching Destinations

Star Trek Boldly Goes Where It's (Not Often) Gone Before

Viewing M*A*S*H for the AFI Project

Oscar Flashback: Kinsey (2004)

Revisiting All Quiet on the Western Front for the AFI Project

Uplifting Up Soars to Tried and True If Not Necessarily New Heights

Oscar Flashback: Transamerica (2005)

Revisiting Amadeus for the AFI Project

Oscar Flashback: Monster (2003)

Viewing From Here to Eternity for the AFI Project

Viewing MAS*H for the AFI Project