Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Easy Rider - 1969 - 2 Stars
It is worth noting that if I had more political clout, I'd be the mayor of Squaresville. This film may not be for me. Its depictions of drug use and sexuality had to be revolutionary at the time - now it just seems boring. This may be an unfair critique - later films should not inform the way this one goes about telling its story. However, it is not only plotless but characterless, and there is nothing for us to grab on to except beautiful Southwestern vistas, 60s counterculture sights, and an interestingly cut film. Further diluting the revolutionary nature is the soundtrack - hearing the strains of 'Born To Be Wild' over the opening credits must've been fresh in 1969, but having heard it trying to hock automobiles, credit cards, and liquor in recent television ads destroys its potency.
The French Connection - 1971 - 4 Stars
The French Connection is one of those movies I felt guilty about stumbling onto when it was on television, as I'd seen several scenes in the movie multiple times, but had never watched it all the way through. Having finally seen the entire thing, it is a brilliantly shot movie. There is a recent trend towards fragmenting action scenes with so many cuts that the viewer can no longer figure out what is going on (recent Bond films, the Bourne series are good examples). The French Connection shows that a film can still have high tension without overwhelming the viewer.
One of the things I feel is most overlooked about films is their location. The French Connection is, of course, a gloriously New York film. Too many films take place in MovieLand - an indistinct nowhere. The characters are therefore given no locale, no origin; we're set in a weightless story, where there is no past besides what is written into the film. I am aware that it is more expensive to shoot a movie in an actual place, but fantasy is far more vivid when mixed with familiar elements.
One of the things I feel is most overlooked about films is their location. The French Connection is, of course, a gloriously New York film. Too many films take place in MovieLand - an indistinct nowhere. The characters are therefore given no locale, no origin; we're set in a weightless story, where there is no past besides what is written into the film. I am aware that it is more expensive to shoot a movie in an actual place, but fantasy is far more vivid when mixed with familiar elements.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Million Dollar Baby - 2004 - 3½ Stars
Umberto Eco said of Casablanca,
"Thus Casablanca is not just one film. It is many films, an anthology. [...] When all the archetypes burst in shamelessly, we reach Homeric depths. Two cliches make us laugh. A hundred cliches move us. For we sense dimly that the cliches are talking among themselves, and celebrating a reunion."
I could not help but think of this quote as I watched Million Dollar Baby, a film I had not seen before today. 'Archetypes' is the perfect way to describe the characterization in this film, from the gruff, grizzled, hiding-a-secret trainer to the plucky, determined heroine fighting against everything that's ever beaten her down in her life. It got me to wondering about the nature of cliches and why sometimes we reject them and sometimes embrace them. Million Dollar Baby's plot twists are not always predictable, necessarily, but they're certainly not unexpected either, as its archetypes navigate through thick and thin. We're still left with thoroughly unpeople in this film.
Making the film more cliched was Hilary Swank's hateful, money-grubbing family, who may as well be wearing Evil hats throughout the film. I have always wondered about Hollywood's portrayal of the Midwest and South - I don't live in either of those places, nor have I ever, but it always feels tremendously condescending.
What salvaged the film for me are the acting performances, which are all great, and the story is a nice self-contained unit that gets across everything it wants to. I understand why the film won an Oscar; it is throughout a Hollywood-created fantasy, on all the fictions Hollywood makes us believe because we so badly want to.
"Thus Casablanca is not just one film. It is many films, an anthology. [...] When all the archetypes burst in shamelessly, we reach Homeric depths. Two cliches make us laugh. A hundred cliches move us. For we sense dimly that the cliches are talking among themselves, and celebrating a reunion."
I could not help but think of this quote as I watched Million Dollar Baby, a film I had not seen before today. 'Archetypes' is the perfect way to describe the characterization in this film, from the gruff, grizzled, hiding-a-secret trainer to the plucky, determined heroine fighting against everything that's ever beaten her down in her life. It got me to wondering about the nature of cliches and why sometimes we reject them and sometimes embrace them. Million Dollar Baby's plot twists are not always predictable, necessarily, but they're certainly not unexpected either, as its archetypes navigate through thick and thin. We're still left with thoroughly unpeople in this film.
Making the film more cliched was Hilary Swank's hateful, money-grubbing family, who may as well be wearing Evil hats throughout the film. I have always wondered about Hollywood's portrayal of the Midwest and South - I don't live in either of those places, nor have I ever, but it always feels tremendously condescending.
What salvaged the film for me are the acting performances, which are all great, and the story is a nice self-contained unit that gets across everything it wants to. I understand why the film won an Oscar; it is throughout a Hollywood-created fantasy, on all the fictions Hollywood makes us believe because we so badly want to.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
The Brothers Solomon - 2007 - 2 Stars
I've already been fooled once. When I see, 'Directed by Bob Odenkirk', I figure that the Mr. Show alumnus is devoting himself to a project at least of equal caliber to Mr. Show, the terrific HBO sketch-comedy show that is still relevant and fresh almost fifteen years after its inception. But Odenkirk directed the mostly terrible Let's Go To Prison - this movie is better, but not by very much.
I will grant that comedy on film is really hard, and the reason why it often does so poorly is that everyone involved can no longer tell what's funny after seeing it fifteen times. There's one moment in the film where à propos of nothing, Will Arnett's character is getting into a rooftop hot tub with the girl he's obsessed with. She is disgusted by him and leaves. After she leaves, he climbs out of the tub and kisses her wet footprint left on the ground. This is mildly funny. The picture begins to fade, showing us Will Arnett in bed - he's dreaming. He wakes up with a smile on his face. This is hilarious. Then the film makes a terrible 'wet dream' pun, and it ruins the dark humor of a character who is excited by the prospect of kissing his crush's remnants (in a dream, no less).
There's the makings of a good movie here, but ultimately it succumbs to the Comedy Movie Formula™.
I will grant that comedy on film is really hard, and the reason why it often does so poorly is that everyone involved can no longer tell what's funny after seeing it fifteen times. There's one moment in the film where à propos of nothing, Will Arnett's character is getting into a rooftop hot tub with the girl he's obsessed with. She is disgusted by him and leaves. After she leaves, he climbs out of the tub and kisses her wet footprint left on the ground. This is mildly funny. The picture begins to fade, showing us Will Arnett in bed - he's dreaming. He wakes up with a smile on his face. This is hilarious. Then the film makes a terrible 'wet dream' pun, and it ruins the dark humor of a character who is excited by the prospect of kissing his crush's remnants (in a dream, no less).
There's the makings of a good movie here, but ultimately it succumbs to the Comedy Movie Formula™.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Harvey - 1950 - 3 Stars
Harvey is a fucking weird movie. That's about all I'll say, although I will say that it is *not* particularly odd if one thinks about it for a short time. It's yet another movie I've seen recently that tries to prove the old George Costanza saw - 'It's not a lie if you believe it.'
I guess all I want to mention here is that this movie completely does not work without Jimmy Stewart. Stewart's aw-shucks honesty in this role is perfect, there is no winking to the audience, and never any doubt in his character.
I can definitely see why Steven Spielberg is supposedly remaking this movie. I will be eager to see how he screws it up.
I guess all I want to mention here is that this movie completely does not work without Jimmy Stewart. Stewart's aw-shucks honesty in this role is perfect, there is no winking to the audience, and never any doubt in his character.
I can definitely see why Steven Spielberg is supposedly remaking this movie. I will be eager to see how he screws it up.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
A Quick Note on Spoilers
I will warn of spoilers if they occur within a post, but everything's fair game in the comments section. That should be self-evident, but I get furiously angry about having movies/tv shows spoiled for me.
The Maltese Falcon - 1941 - 4 Stars
Note: Very minor spoilers
Thomas Hobbes once described life without government as "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short." Film noir paints a picture of life that is quite similar, yet it somehow manages to create out of this Hobbesian muck a life filled with heroes, villains, quips, and dames. Why are some of us so drawn to film noir?
Humphrey Bogart's Sam Spade is a private detective working with a partner. When his partner gets shot to death, there's little or no grief or panic, just naked wonder about who perpetrated the crime. That's what, to me, separates noir from other films - the nakedness of the characters' desires. The desire is usually quite simple, but the ability to achieve it quite convoluted. We get to see the characters' interests intertwine and clash, double-crosses, double-dealing, even triple-crosses (hat tip to Miller's Crossing). It's all so damned interesting.
The one failure of film noir is the ability to truly sympathize with the characters - as we find out more and more about what's really going on, our interest in the story's players wanes. Their role is to act out the part of these desires and little more. The Maltese Falcon is no exception, and while its final scene is tremendously well-written, it still strikes a false note to get to that point.
Thomas Hobbes once described life without government as "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short." Film noir paints a picture of life that is quite similar, yet it somehow manages to create out of this Hobbesian muck a life filled with heroes, villains, quips, and dames. Why are some of us so drawn to film noir?
Humphrey Bogart's Sam Spade is a private detective working with a partner. When his partner gets shot to death, there's little or no grief or panic, just naked wonder about who perpetrated the crime. That's what, to me, separates noir from other films - the nakedness of the characters' desires. The desire is usually quite simple, but the ability to achieve it quite convoluted. We get to see the characters' interests intertwine and clash, double-crosses, double-dealing, even triple-crosses (hat tip to Miller's Crossing). It's all so damned interesting.
The one failure of film noir is the ability to truly sympathize with the characters - as we find out more and more about what's really going on, our interest in the story's players wanes. Their role is to act out the part of these desires and little more. The Maltese Falcon is no exception, and while its final scene is tremendously well-written, it still strikes a false note to get to that point.
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