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As cool as a Fruitstand

  • The Big Heat

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    The Big Heat  (1953)

    On the outside, this is almost a boring story, and not very noir at all. Glenn Ford as Sgt. Bannion is the proverbial straight cop in a bent town, too good to be true, not cynical but still convinced good will beat evil in the end. He almost goes vigilante, almost lets his own darker side burst through, but in the end he lets a woman do the dirty job.

    Ah, but that's where the film gets interesting, with this woman. Gloria Grahame is glorious as Debbie, who seems a supporting character for much of the movie, but don't get her angry. She's ditzy, perpetually drunk, and makes no excuses for placing money above everything else, but she's the cynical hero of this noir tale in the end. She's the one who gets all the good lines, too: she says of her perfume that it's "something new. It attracts mosquitoes and repels men", and as explanation for her roaring rampage of revenge, all she offers is a pouty "Vince should have never ruined my looks. It was a rotten thing to do".

    She gets a raw deal, Debbie. All she does is execute Bannion's wishes, so that he can keep his conscience clean and return to his Sgt's desk while she's punished. She's by far the most interesting character here, but like the other women, she ends up by the side of the road.


    I really can't recommend this film enough. It's deceptively simple, but there's so much lurking beneath the surface, so many repressed feelings and undercurrents of violence, violence against woman in particular. And then there's Lee Marvin, who is positively amazing here, making his sadistic thug more interesting than he has any right to be. It's a noir as noirs should be: in the end, the bad guys are punished and good does win, but we don't get to feel triumphant about it.
    Originally posted on:As cool as a Fruitstand

  • Gerry (continuing the 'going crazy in the desert' theme)

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    Gerry  (2003)

    In the music of Arvo Pärt, the gaps, the silences, are just as important as the notes that are played, if not more. The same can be said for Gerry, and for the other two films in Gus van Sant's informal trilogy about (violent) death, Elephant and Last Days. This might be the emptiest of them all, but they have in common a total lack of motivation, structure, and above all meaning, defying viewers to make anything of the raw images.

    As I watched this film, my mind often wandered, and I even went back one time, only to find that I had, in fact, seen and registered the shots that came before, just hadn't processed them. It might be the best way of seeing this film, and the two others: just letting the images stream through is, repressing our innate yearning to analyze and destroy.
    Originally posted on:As cool as a Fruitstand

 

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