A Chorus Line (1985)

Terry's Grade: B

A Chorus Line is a movie that probably appeals most to people who've actually been involved in musical theater, and somewhat less to people who are just fans of musical theater. To everyone else, it doesn't really appeal at all. The story is thin; the entire movie takes place during a dance audition for chorus line dancers for an unnamed Broadway production. We watch as the dancers dance and tell their life stories; maybe we root for one or two of them to get the part (or not get it). Really, this is about the dancing, though, not the drama. That said, I was genuinely emotionally on edge during the final scene when the final cut is made.

There are a couple very recognizable songs in this movie. I Hope I Get It ("God I hope I get it. / I hope I get it. / How many people does he need? / How many boys, how many girls?") and One ("One singular sensation, every little step she takes. / One thrilling combination, every move that she makes.") were in my brain even though I never would have placed them to this play. The song Surprise, Surprise was apparently added for the film and not part of the Broadway show, although it was one of my favorites.

Michael Douglas plays Zach, the choreographer who's running the auditions. I don't think any of the other performers are worth mentioning, not because they're not great (they are great), but because they're dancers and in the context of a film blog, they're nobodies who don't really show up anywhere other than this movie.

Unforgiven (1992)

Terry's Grade: B-

I just did a Google search for Unforgiven so I could get the names for some of the actors I didn't know in this movie, and I wish I hadn't done that. I think Unforgiven is just okay, but apparently Rotten Tomatoes thinks it's gold. I'm not entirely sure why. As I was watching this last night, I had the thought that maybe this was one of those movies that had been judged a classic too hastily; today, the novelty of seeing an old Clint Eastwood has worn off, and with two decades of perspective, I just don't see how this movie belongs on this list.

The story is fine, and the cast is great, for the most part. Clint Eastwood plays Will Munny, an old retired gunslinger who lives on a farm with his children, still morning the death of his wife several years ago. He's pulled out of retirement when the self-named Schofield Kid (Jaimz Woolvett) shows up with a job offer. A group of prostitutes in Big Whiskey, Montana, have put out a $1000 bounty on two cowboys who savagely cut up one of their girls. Munny agrees, but only on the condition that he can bring his old gunslinging partner Ned Logan (Morgan Freeman) along on the job. Meanwhile, in Big Whiskey, Sheriff Little Bill (Gene Hackman) is trying to keep the peace and drive off any would-be assassins who've come to cash in on the bounty. The first such assassin to arrive is English Bob (Richard Harris) and his "biographer" W.W. Beauchamp (Saul Rubinek).

Beauchamp represents the romanticization of the wild west, while the movie does its best to dispel that sanitized version of events which is the norm in the western genre that Unforgiven aims to reinterpret. The shootings in this film, both narrated and depicted, are chaotic and gruesome, not graceful and noble. The moral seems to be "violence doesn't solve anything," except that it does, sort of, at the end.The real moral is "people never change." Munny is, and always was, a cold-hearted, hard-drinking killer. He just took a break for a while to get married and have some kids. Ned regrets his decision to return to his old profession, and finds himself unable to pull the trigger when it means taking a human life. Munny, on the other hand, seems to regret ever having quit the business. One of the prostitutes tells him of how Ned, being interrogated in the sheriff's office, threatened the Little Bill with Munny's revenge if he whipped him one more time, and how the sheriff seemed unimpressed. Munny knows that in the old days his reputation would've meant something, and might have saved Ned's life. Instead of taking Ned's death as an indication that a life of violence leads to bad ends, he takes at as a sign that he's gotten soft in his old age and needs to reassert himself. Even after he's murdered five people in the saloon, it's when Munny pours himself a glass of whiskey at the bar that made me feel bad for the path he'd gone down at the end.

There's a lot of morality in the film, although it manages to not feel too preachy. It's interesting as a different take on the classic western, but ultimately it's full of conventions and stereotypes. We know that Little Bill's going to die; he's building himself a house. We've got the prostitute(s) with a heart of gold. We've got the old hero coming out of retirement for "one last job." We've got the arrogant young noob. Nobody in the film or watching it believes the Kid when he says he's killed five men.

The Kid's overconfident machismo is the only characteristic of a painfully one-dimensional character, and Woolvett's uninspired performance only exacerbates that problem. That combo of actor and character might be my least favorite aspect of this film. The ending is good, and tense, since I honestly wasn't sure exactly who was going to die and who wasn't. But visually, stylistically, this movie feels flat. Maybe that's because it's got that 90s feel, which is something of a standard background noise to me, being the era of movies that I grew up with. But even though now, twenty years out, I can start to recognize it as a distinct style, it's not one that I really like. It's a Hollywood movie where everything's just a little too polished: the exposures are prefect and the audio is well balanced. But this is a gritty story, and it deserves to be told in a grittier style.

Bullets:

• Clint Eastwood says "I guess" a lot in this movie.
• English Bob probably isn't English; there's one scene he briefly drops his accent.
• The first scene with Woolvett, where we think that he's come to kill Eastwood, is his only good one.
• The story cards that bookend the film are entirely unnecessary and distracting.
• Saul Rubinek is good as a despisable but not quite evil character, much like his role as Kivas Fajo in TNG (which will always be what I remember him for).

Gone with the Wind (1939)

Terry's Grade: A

I was in the right mood to see this movie, and it's not often that I'm in the mood for 4-hour-long epics. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, after a late Saturday night: the perfect opportunity to sink into the couch and let some artisanal storytelling wash over you. I think that goes a long way towards my appreciation of this movie; I was pretty forgiving of its weaknesses and glad to accept the film's presentation of its story on its own terms. Also, I think my willingness to accept the movie is a result of the experience of having seen a number, at this point, of "older" films. There are so many conventions in today's filmmaking that we take for granted, and it's easy to forget that there are other ways of expressing emotion and telling a story, and they're perfectly valid and effective even if they're not in style today.

Gone with the Wind tells a story. It is an epic story, and largely manages to stick to a handful (four, I guess) of primary characters, although as with any epic it goes through a number of books and chapters, with side characters and side stories. I can't comment on the novel, but I don't have any real problems with the story that drives the film. One could take offense, perhaps, at the portrayal of black characters, but they play a relatively minor role (and I guess you could take offense at that, too).

The story, broadly, follows the struggles of Scarlett O'Hara (Vivien Leigh), daughter of an Irish immigrant plantation owner in pre-war Georiga. As a teenager she seeks, and wins, the attention of all the high-society boys in town, and that's pretty much all she thinks about. She's obsessed with Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard), but he marries Melanie Hamilton (Olivia de Havilland). Scarlett remains in love with Ashley as she develops a relationship with the free-spirited scumbag / profiteer Rhett Butler (Clark Gable).

There are ups and downs for all of the characters, and that's really what the movie is all about. But for a four-hour film, the screenplay is extremely economical. B stepped outside for a cigarette during the opening overture, thinking that not much could possibly happen in the the first few minutes. Big mistake. Every scene, it seems, has a specific point to make, and it makes it effectively and efficiently. Trying to extract an ideology from this film seems impossible, because while every scene makes a point, there's another scene somewhere else in the movie that makes a contradictory point. (I'd love to put a list of those points and counter-points here, but it's been a couple weeks since I saw the movie, plus I probably forgot most of my mental notes before the film even ended.) The acting can seem a bit over the top (I think this style of this movie must have become the basis of daytime soap operas decades later), but the emotional situations and soliloquies had me on the verge of tears multiple times during the movie. I refused to cry, but I easily could have.

Gone with the Wind might be noteworthy as an early example of a film with a strong female heroine, but I found myself wondering who the real protagonist of this movie is. Scarlett O'Hara is so immature, self-centered, and heartless throughout the movie (although she has her share of admirable moments) that it's hard to really look up to her. The same goes for Rhett Butler (minus the immaturity). Ashely is mostly pathetic throughout the film. Out of the four on my list of main characters, that leaves Melanie, who is easily the most morally virtuous character in the film. If we look at the film, we see that it begins with Melanie's engagement, and ends shortly after her death, which means that in a number of ways we could say that she's the real protagonist and the central character of the film. While that works from an analytical perspective, she just doesn't really feel like a main character. Also, Scarlett is hot. Melanie not.

I'm not sure if I could re-watch this movie, although I would love to. It is very well divided into two parts, with an intermission, so I think it would be acceptable (but not preferable, if you have the option) to watch it in two sittings. If I ever get a chance to see it in a theater, I'll jump at it. Whatever you do, if you're watching this movie do your part as a viewer and really try to commit yourself to the characters and the story. If you give it a chance, Gone with the Wind will reward you with an satisfying emotional ride, which what we're after in the movies after all, isn't it?

Miscellaneous things I meant to mention but didn't:

• The gun scene with the Union soldier on the staircase -- why isn't this one of the iconic moments in film? I can't believe I hadn't heard of this scene before I saw the movie.
• The name of the the O'Hara plantation is Tara, which I kept hearing as terra, the Latin word for "earth," which would fit perfectly with a major theme of this movie (when all else is lost, you'll always have your land).
• Vivien Leigh in this movie reminds me of Allison Brie.

The Master (2012)

Terry's Grade: B

There are sand titties in this movie.

P.T. Anderson's filmography (Boogie Nights, Hard Eight, Magnolia, Punch Drunk Love, There Will Be Blood) meant that I was probably going to see The Master no matter what. So I went last night with Rachel and Johnny to Cedar-Lee. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) the lamp on the digital projector went dead about halfway through the movie, which meant that we got an impromptu 15-minute intermission.

This movie is too long. I generally feel that way about movies that are longer than two hours, but I also felt that The Master started out strong and finished weak. At the start, the film draws you in, obliquely introducing one very interesting and troubled character (Freddy Quill, played by Joaquin Phoenix), then another interesting and troubled character (Lancaster Dodd / The Master, played by Philip Seymour Hoffman). Those two characters, and the performances by the actors, are the main attraction, although Amy Adams (as Dodd's wife, Peggy) isn't at all bad in her part. However, after about halfway through the movie, after we've become pretty well acquainted with the characters, the movie kind of stagnates. The ending is anti-climactic and leaves a lot of things open for interpretation. The latter is true throughout the movie; not much is told to us, and the audience is left to read and interpret for themselves. In particular, it's difficult to guess exactly what PSH's character really feels and thinks; JP does a great job of acting with his face and his body, telling us much more than what his character reveals in his short (but often very intimate) lines of dialogue.

The movie looks good. Just before leaving for the theater I read that this was Anderson's first feature film made without his regular cinematographer, Robert Elswit. But there were still those signature long, single shots, and a mix of other cool shots (a repeated image of water in the wake of a boat, or a tracking shot of a motorcycle speeding through the desert). There was one curious scene where Joaquin Phoenix's face goes in and out of focus as he leans forward and back in his char; it looks like just bad camerawork but I have to assume it was intentional.

Watch this movie for the acting, and it won't disappoint. Something about the way Joaquin Phoenix mumbles out of the side of his mouth reminds me of Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain (but without the bad accent). And he excels in some of the more violent and physical scenes in the movie. In terms of character arc, his is the biggest, but it's not entirely clear what, exactly, his transition represents, or whether it's a good thing or a bad thing for him. It's a character and a performance that are unlike anything else I've seen in film. Unfortunately, I don't think the rest of The Master measures up in quality, leaving it not one of my favorite P.T. Anderson movies. But, if you look at his list of films, it kind of flip-flops between great and not-great, so his next movie should be awesome. 

The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

Terry's Grade: A

John Carradine as Jim Casey

I don't know if you can make movies like this anymore. By today's standards it's a bit too obvious and straightforward. But I couldn't help but think throughout the movie of what a modern-day Grapes of Wrath would look like: something about the mortgage crisis and the loss of manufacturing jobs in America, maybe.

John Steinbeck's novel The Grapes of Wrath was published in 1939, and the film adaptation, directed by John Ford, was released in January of the following year. Henry Fonda stars as Tom Joad, the recently-paroled eldest son in an "Oakie" family who've just been kicked off their farm by some mega-farm industrialists who like to bulldoze honest people's houses with Caterpillar tractors. The story follows the family as they head west to California as they struggle to find work as migrant farmers picking peaches and cotton. We get excellent performances from Fonda as well as Jane Darwell as his mother, Ma Joad, and John Carradine (yes, the father of David Carradine) as Jim Casey, an ex-preacher-turned-1940s-hippie/commie. Casey walks around the entire movie wearing a grin that apparently reflects his post-Christian enlightenment -- he looks like he's constantly high on mushrooms or something.

There's some excellent photography in this movie, and some great sets (most of the film was obviously shot on a sound stage, but there are a few legit outdoor shots as well). It's not a short movie, and despite running 129 minutes it still feels like a lot of the story has been condensed. I didn't really know much about this movie going into it (despite the fact that it's probably among the most well-known titles there are), other than the fact that it had to do with the dust bowl and the great depression. I had no idea it was practically a communist propaganda film. I got that feeling watching it, but reading about it later I guess the producers of the film were in fact fairly conservative and did their best to limit the pro-communist message (there's a memorable line where Fonda's character asks, "What's a 'Red' anyway?" (okay so the line isn't that memorable; trying to find the exact wording I found at least three different variations on the web). The implication is that we (Americans) are Reds, or could be, or at least we could sympathize with the ones who are, or something. The enemies in this movie are the corporations and their cronies (which includes the police), and the heroes are the farmers and the government (at least that part of the government that was responsible for that nice camp the Joads stayed in). Early in the film there's a line that suggests that it's somehow the corporations themselves, and not any individual human being, that's really to blame. An agent from the farm corporation has come to kick a farmer off his land:

Agent: I can't help that. All I know is, I got my orders. They told me to tell you to get off, and that's what I'm tellin' ya.
Muley: You mean get off of my own land?
Agent: Now don't go to blamin' me! It ain't my fault.
Muley's son (Hollis Jewell): Who's fault is it?
Agent: You know who owns the land. The Shawnee Land and Cattle Company.
Muley: And who's the Shawnee Land and Cattle Company
Agent: It ain't nobody. It's a company.
Muley's son: They got a President, ain't they? They got somebody who knows what a shotgun's for, ain't they?
Agent: Oh son, it ain't his fault, because the bank tells him what to do.
Muley's son: All right, where's the bank?
Agent: Tulsa. What's the use of pickin' on him? He ain't nothin' but the manager. And he's half-crazy hisself tryin' to keep up with his orders from the East.
Muley: Then who do we shoot?
Agent: Brother, I don't know. If I did, I'd tell ya. I just don't know who's to blame.

The Grapes of Wrath is definitely a movie I feel like I could watch again and again. I love it when I find one of the true classics that I haven't seen yet. Even though it seems like there are fewer and fewer of them, it's a great joy when you do get to experience one.

Bernie (2012)

Terry's Grade: B-

This is an interesting true story, and I think that's the main attraction. There's also Jack Black giving a pretty good performance (and singing every chance he gets in the movie), and Matthew McConaughey in some ugly glasses. Some of the best lines, however, are delivered by real people familiar with the events of the movie, which mixes the dramatic scenes with "interviews" with locals from Carthage, Texas. (I say "interviews" because I'm not sure whether the lines were actually scripted or not.)

In the end, though, Bernie is just a bit boring. I'd heard a radio story about the movie earlier, which described the real-life events that inspired the movie. I don't think that knowing what happens really spoils the movie---there really isn't any suspense, except perhaps for the sentencing part at the end. But events unfold onscreen in a very matter-of-fact way, and if it weren't for the colorful local interviews and the occasional funny scene, this movie would be unwatchable. As it is, it's an enjoyable movie that raises some thoughtworthy questions about crime, punishment, and popularity.

Mad Men (2007)

I've had a lot of prodding to get caught up on Mad Men for season five, so I'm finally giving it a go from episode one. Don't know how far I'll get, but this is as good a pilot as I've seen in a while; it might take a while, but I'll probably get through the series at some point.

It's impossible to be alive and conscious in 2012 and not know something about Mad Men. I know that it's about white guys in suits who smoke and drink (rye) all day. I know that Christina Hendricks has enormous boobs. I know that Don Draper talks smooth. And I know that Sterling is sexy not despite, but because of his silver hair, and I know that he has enough one-liners to fill a YouTube highlight reel.

The singular impression that I get, though, is that Mad Men is a reflection of what it used to be like to be a (rich) (straight) (white) man in (New York) America, and the first episode makes that distinction shine out against a multitude of foils. We have the blacks (a waiter and an elevator operator), the Jews (a mail clerk and a business-woman), the gay (a graphic artist), and the women (the aforementioned businesswomen, but otherwise secretaries, switchboard operators, strippers, automat girls, and housewives). Every character in the first episode is defined by either being a straight white man, or not being a straight white man.

Mad Men is set in the 1960s, but there's no doubt that it's intended for a 2000's audience. In addition to the white/black, gay/straight, man/woman issues, the first episode raises the tobacco issue, which is one of those debates (like climate change or evolution) that feels like it should have been settled decades ago, but isn't. The cancer issue may be settled, but the recent mandate for graphic health warnings on cigarette packaging in the U.S. reminds us that there are certainly plenty of people out there who don't give a fuck, and there are plenty of other people out there trying to convince them otherwise.

I watched this episode streaming on Netflix, and was immensely relieved when the picture quality improved drastically about a quarter of the way in. Mad Men is a pleasure to look at, and it's well-crafted television in every way. My intuitions might turn out to be wrong, but I certainly got very strong indications, even though this is just the first episode, as to who the main characters were and who it was safe to ignore, and what each character's persona is. For one example, after about five seconds of screen time, it is clear, without being blatent, that Sal is gay. (It only becomes blatent in a later scene in a strip club when a woman comments "I love this place. It's hot, loud, and filled with men.", to which Sal replies "I know what you mean.") We also get introduced to the Jon Hamm effect, which gets a wonderful send-up in 30 Rock, whereby he is able to overcome any obstacle by virtue of his good looks. (I'm thinking of how he manages to offend a female Jewish client, only to win her over by buying her a drink and smiling at her later that evening.)

Overall, episode one sets the stage well, and I'm looking forward to seeing where it leads.

Monsters (2010)

Terry's Grade: B

I think Monsters falls into that category of movie that definitely worth watching if you're looking for something to do, but isn't necessarily worth going out of your way for. My main criticism of the movie is that, basically, nothing happens. But that's also one of the reasons I like it. Monsters is a movie that takes on an established genre from a new angle, and does it well. First, it belongs to the sci-fi genre of "giant, slithery, blinking aliens have come to Earth and they're killing our people and desolating our landscapes," but it's generally a quiet, kind of slow movie. Sure, there are scenes with machine guns blasting and cars getting tossed around, but they're put in as punctuation, not the main content. Also, it's a movie in the "we don't really get a good look at these aliens until the end of the movie" genre, but it avoids the overused handheld camera trope, and reminds us that there's a reason why we like movies that use good photographers. (Not coincidentally, I suspect, the main character is himself a photographer.)

Monsters is entirely Gareth Edwards' creation; he wrote, directed, filmed, and created the special effects himself. According to Wikipedia, the shooting crew was made up of just five people, plus the two main actors, and the total budget was a half a million dollars. Monsters definitely has some of the qualities of the new low-budget sci-fi: the aliens have fairly limited screen time and the plot is very character-oriented -- it's much more of a love story than an alien invasion story. What stands out is the fact that the special effects stand up extremely well when we finally get a good look at them; while the budget might have been a factor in the limited amount of screen time for the aliens (I imagine Mr. Edwards had his hands full), these are not low-budget effects. In a similar sort of cost-saving measure, the script only involves two main characters, and the actors who play them are adept and well-suited to their roles. Most of the supporting roles are well-played by what I assume are local Mexican actors or just locals. The only bad actors in the movie are a couple of voices on telephones.

While the photography and effects are excellent, and the acting is more than passable, the script isn't exactly great. This is the sort of movie that isn't really out to explain where the aliens came from, or why they kill (eat?) people, and that's fine. There are some great hints about some aspects of their behavior, but that's not really a focus of the movie. The focus is on the two characters, but even in that area not much is explained. They fall in love, but I'm not sure why: the photographer, played by Scott McNairy, is kind of a sweetheart jerk, and the girl, played by Whitney Able, is pretty much a non-entity. (Actually, I guess they're they're perfect for each other.) This is a journey movie; the two characters set out at the beginning and reach their destination in the end, with all sorts of obstacles which need to be overcome along the way. But there's no real climax; I never got the big battle or chase that I felt was coming. They reach their destination, and the movie just sort of ends.

TL;DR -- quiet, character-driven sci-fi shot on location in third-world Mexico; great photography and good visual effects; well-acted love-story; slow plot with no climax or resolution.

Swing Time (1936)

Terry's Grade: B+

Fred Astaire plays John "Lucky" Garnett, a dancer and a gambler who's about to give up performing to marry his sweetheart. But after he misses his own wedding, he sets off for New York in order to make his fortune and come back and re-claim his fiancé. He is accompanied by his faithful companion "Pop" (Victor Moore), who performed card tricks in Lucky's old stage show. In New York, Lucky starts performing with a dance instructor named Penny (Ginger Rogers); the two eventually, inevitably, fall in love. Also along for the ride is Mabel (Helen Broderick), the former receptionist at Penny's old dance school, who ends up as Pop's companion after recognizing the usefulness of their gambling skills.

Fred Astaire is a very famous name, but when I think about it, I don't really know if I've seen him in (m)any other movies. Ditto for Ginger Rogers. Looking at his IMDB page, I've probably seen his spots in The Towering Inferno and on Battlestar Gallactica (I'm pretty sure I've seen all the episodes of that show but that was a long, long time ago). Astaire and Rogers made nine films together, apparently, and I have to assume that this is considered the best of them all. When or if I'll ever see another one is uncertain, but I can't say I'm opposed to the idea.

In the latter half of the movie, there's comes a romantic scene with Astaire and Rogers that should leave the audience kind of giddy, but that emotional high gets killed immediately when Lucky starts applying his makeup for an impending blackface song-and-dance routine. I suppose that a modern audience should be able to contextualize a scene like this and not be offended by it, but it still kind of spoils the mood, and reminds us of the truism that it's impossible for an audience separated by the better part of a century to appreciate a work of art in the same way it was appreciated by a contemporary audience. I always try to bring an open mind when watching older movies, but that's not always enough. To make things even more awkward, we have to watch blackface-Astaire through several scenes following the song before his character has a chance to clean up. Also, the one actual black character in the movie is pure stereotype, but fortunately is only on scene for a few seconds.

There are some classic songs I didn't realize were in this movie: A Fine Romance is the highlight, but the first song we get to enjoy is Pick Yourself Up ("You pick yourself up // dust yourself off // and start all over again"), another standard. I've never considered myself a huge fan of musicals, but when the songs and performers are solid like this, they can be pretty enjoyable.

In the end, there isn't much to say for this movie. It's got good songs, good dancing, and good singing, and some of the jokes still manage to be funny 75 years later. Plot-wise, there are no surprises, but that's not really why you watch a movie like this. If you're me, you watch this movie because it's on a list of movies somewhere that people say you ought to see. And if you're me, you don't feel like you wasted your time on this one.

Catching Up

I've been way behind on posting here, and I think I need to just get some stuff down before it's completely out of my memory. Each of these films deserves a full post, but given my current budget of free time, they're not gonna get them.

Singin' In The Rain (1952): A+

This movie is wonderful; intensely colorful, with great music, great sets, and extraordinary performances by Gene Kelly, Donald O'Connor, and Debbie Reynolds. I've got a full review on hold, so I'll put the rest of my thoughts there and post it.

A Streetcar Named Desire (1951): A-

Stanley Kowalski is a hunk. Too bad he's an asshole. This is a movie to watch with the windows open and a cold beer on a hot, humid, summer day. I'd completely forgotten about Karl Malden's love-hate-able role as Blanche Dubois' would-be fiancé, which should be a crime. Also, Tennesse Williams really was great at writing one-apartment plays, wasn't he? There's a reason this film is considered required watching in the civilized world.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939): C

I don't understand this movie at all; it's basically a propaganda film for America and the Boy Scouts. If you want to learn how congress works, watch I'm Just A Bill. If you want to see a Jimmy Stewart movie, watch Rear Window or Philadelphia Story. I'm seriously baffled why this movie shows up on lists of great movies. It's a kids' movie about politics. Really.

It Happened One Night (1934): B+

This is the first (and so far only) movie I've seen with Clark Gable in it, and I genuinely look forward to seeing more. I have some questions about this movie, though. Namely, I wonder why Gable's character has two pairs of pajamas packed in his single hard-shell suitcase. Is it purely for plot reasons, so he can loan a pair to Claudette Colbert, or is that just how people rolled in the thirties? Also, after Philadelphia Story, this is the second movie I've seen where a lower-class character lectures a higher-class character on the proper way to dunk a doughnut. I don't know... I don't pack one pair of pajamas, let alone two, when I travel, and I don't give a solitary fuck about dunking doughnuts. Maybe that's just me.

City Lights (1931): B

I am always going to get this movie confused with Modern Times. I just have to remember that Modern Times is the good one, and this is the not-so-good one. But I do like Charlie Chaplin movies, it turns out, so even the bad ones are worth watching.

The General (1926): B- 

I don't understand this movie. Apparently it's a comedy? With hardly any jokes? The only scenes worth watching are the one where Buster Keaton repeatedly tries to enlist in the confederate army, and the one where a bridge collapses and dumps a train into a river.

The Gold Rush (1925): B-

It took us three days to finish this movie, and I'm not sure why other than the fact that it's just not really a gripping story. But there are some classic, really funny, scenes in this movie: the shack gets blown around, so that the door opens up out into a crevasse; and one of the prospectors gets so hungry that Charlie Chaplin starts looking like a roasted chicken. Sadly, as usual Charlie Chaplin falls in love with a girl that doesn't deserve him, but they end up together in the end so I guess it's a happy ending? Also, some of the opening footage is fascinating to watch; it plays like documentary footage of the Alaskan gold rush, even if it was staged for production of this film.
 

The Hunger Games (2012)

Terry's Grade: C

Is this thing over yet?

I don't read a lot, really, so I don't often see movie versions of books I've already read. Hunger Games does illustrate some of the problems those movies face, though; in translating page to screen, it's important to make the transition from telling to showing. The script to this movie is true in every major way to the novel, and this might be one of its biggest problems. It's almost omission by inclusion; every character gets his time on screen (no matter how briefly), and as a result hardly any characters get their due. A book has the leisure to  fill in background and explain motivations; on the screen, we get only what we see.

Halfway through the movie, I was convinced that director Gary Ross didn't have all the necessary tools to direct a feature film. The story starts in the poverty-stricken, coal-mining District 12, then quickly moves via high-speed rail to the wealthy, narcissistic, over-styled capital of Panem. Both of these settings provide wonderful opportunities to illustrate the post-apocalyptic dystopia that Susanne Collins has created, and the art department doesn't disappoint; aside from a few wooden telephone posts and an electric fence, District 12 looks like 19th-century Appalachia, down to the hand-stitched dresses worn by the coal miners' daughters. And in the capital, every single individual has his or her own unique color palette--blue ponytails, gold eyeliner, purple suits, and facial hair trimmed to millimeter specifications. But it's extremely hard to appreciate the set design through Tom Stern's hand-held-camera shudders, close-zoom pans, and the unrelenting two-second-cut editing. When capital guards forcefully separate our heroine from her family, I don't want to see a close-up of a leather glove: I can get that anywhere (like on a Spinal Tap album cover). I want to see the juxtaposition of a white-uniformed, well-fed, soldier and a broken-down mother and her two starving children. By "juxtaposition", I mean put them all on the screen at the same time, dammit. These shots are so over-edited, it makes the movie feel cheap, as though the director is trying to hide something. It's a style that doesn't match the budget, or the subject.

In a way, these are some daring directorial decisions; the formula in a  movie like this would be to start off slow, emphasizing the quietness and simplicity of home life before before building up to the shock and excess of urbanity and finally the furious brutality of the games. Paradoxically, the over-editing of the first act gives the opening of the movie a plodding feeling. Every scene feels the same, and the audience isn't given a chance to develop any emotional investment in the characters and their circumstances. The problem with daring decisions is that sometimes they just don't pay off.

Fortunately, things get much better after the games start, when the subject matter finally catches up with the director's style. Curiously, at this point we also start to see a directorial range that was lacking in the first forty-five minutes. When Katniss is stung by a "tracker-jacker" wasp, she is thrown into a hallucinatory stupor, stumbling through the wilderness like a hippie on acid, and having flashing back (in one of the few scenes that manages to strike an emotional note) to the death of her father in a coal mining accident. And when a fellow tribute and ally dies, the film slows just long enough for Katniss to lovingly decorate her corpse with wildflowers.

As a fellow film-goer noted, the makers of this film didn't really have to work hard in order to get the fans out to the theaters. But I seriously wonder if they've worked hard enough to get us to come back for parts 2 and 3. On a radio interview, I heard Jennifer Lawrence joke that her character would be played by Hillary Swank in the future. In the same interview, Lawrence discussed her hesitation to take on a role that had the potential to define her entire career. For her sake, I hope she isn't remembered for being Katniss Everdeen. She's a good, maybe great, actress, but it's slight praise to say that she's the best part of a mediocre movie.

Adam at 6 A.M. (1970)

"Hey, at least I'm not as barrel-chested as my pappy!"

Michael Douglas' second film is unavailable on DVD and used VHS copies start at $65. He plays Adam (though we never find out why at 6 A.M.), an increasingly bored, young linguistics professor who decides to trek into The Heartland of America for the funeral of a great aunt he barely knew. The best part is how dated this film is: it's like one of those forbidden looks at the past that feel a little too honest rather than the highly stylized or idealized versions often portrayed. It looks so authentic that it overcomes its poor acting (save Douglas and Joe Don Baker, pictured with him above) and plodding pace. This dated sense also fits in with how Adam sees the rural town as dated himself.

The film aspires to be more than it successfully delivers. Adam tries to debate a local wazoo about film (actually the wazoo confronts him about liberal Hollywood and nonsense art films) that brings back memories of Sullivan's Travels yet again. People want to be entertained, not reminded of reality. That's why Adam dodges his old job and signs up to clear forested areas for new conduits for power lines. He feels new meaning in his job, his coworkers, and his unrealistic girlfriend. Ultimately he realizes he was right all along and isn't prepared for vanilla ice cream.

Like the end of The Sopranos, Adam's exposition seems almost completely limited to this interval, and we exit the film without resolution--except that he throws two gallons of vanilla ice cream from the back of his car as he drives away and we get a freeze-framed look at the spilled ice cream in the sunset. It's a great ending shot really. I suppose given the symbolism of throwing away the plain life via the ice cream his future mother-in-law wanted him to get, there's a bit more resolved than the immediately preceding quick wrap up gives us.

Sudden endings are suddenly becoming popular again, but this film shows how it's not necessarily new (though used in newer, more complex ways). The focus on this is because another film I saw recently, Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011) also used this device as well as Meek's Cutoff (2010). They both seem to emphasize the psychological aspect of its use (like David Chase did)--to manipulate the viewer's experience of the film in such a way that they experience a similar sense of paranoia or lack of resolution as the character.

An example of the dated, low-budget nature of the film, perhaps.

Adam at 6 A.M. (1970)
Directed By: Robert Scheerer
Written By: Steven Karpf and Elinor Karpf
Grade: B

Prefontaine (1997)

Terry's Grade: C-

pretty sure this mustache peels off

As a movie, this is pretty awful. As a summary of the life of Steve Prefontaine, it'll do. Jared Leto plays Steve Prefontaine, R. Lee Ermy (that Marines guy) plays his coach and Nike co-founder Bill Bowerman, and Ed O'Neil plays assistant coach Bill Delinger. The movie is in a weird kind of docudrama style that pretty much fails: the majority of the film is standard historical fiction, but there are added "interview" scenes where the actors play their characters as though being interviewed for a documentary, and the film also includes some real historical clips as well as what look to be re-enacted TV clips. It sounded like the 90210 theme song was playing continuously in the background of the movie, except when they're playing some Hendrix or CCR. The old cars and the 70's mustaches are fun to look at.

It's an interesting story, though, and definitely one that deserved to be put in film. Apparently in 1998 there was another movie about Steve Prefontaine called Without Limits. I guess I'll have to watch it sometime, but hopefully not sometime soon. I'd like to see just a straight-up documentary, but maybe it'd be hard to get his personality across in a documentary if there's not enough footage of him lying around.

Despite its best efforts, Prefontaine does manage to be moving at the end, at Steve's funeral (he dies: spoiler). And the running scenes don't seem too bad to me, although I'm not a runner. I'd only recommend this movie to someone who's really interested in Oregon, running, or Steve Prefontaine. Preferably all three. Or Jared Leto, I guess. He's pretty hot in this movie, and takes his shirt off once or twice.

On The Marx Brothers (with reviews of Duck Soup and A Night at the Opera)

I do not like the Marx Brothers. I don't have any bad feelings towards them personally, it's just that if I had an hour or two of free time that I wanted to enjoy, watching a Marx Brothers movie would be pretty near the bottom of my list of things to do.

I remember watching a Marx Bros. movie or two with my brother when we were kids; out dad used to rent them for us. (Our dad was also a fan of the Three Stooges; I think it's just a result of growing up in a different era.) And I remember not being too impressed, but I'd always chalked that up to the fact that as a kid I basically rejected anything black and white. However, having recently seen two Marx Brothers films I can confidently say that I am just not a Marx Brothers fan.

That's not to say that there aren't things I find funny in their movies. When the entire dialogue of the movie consists of a flurry of zingers, odds are that one or two are going to hit the mark. However, too many of the jokes are just too dated; a lot of Groucho's jokes, in particular, have to do with women and ideas of womanhood that don't really resonate today. Also, a lot of the jokes use dated vocabulary; I don't mind this at all, really--in fact, I love it--but it usually means it takes a couple extra seconds to process what's being said. Given the fast-paced nature of Marx Bros. movies, you don't usually have the luxury of a few extra seconds.

Fortunately, there are plenty of sight gags and physical comedy to keep you occupied even if you don't get the one-liners. Unfortunately, most of that stuff isn't all that funny to me. Partly, this could be an effect of the success of the Marx Brothers. For instance, the famous mirror scene from Duck Soup, where Groucho and Harpo (in disguise as Groucho) mimic each other in various hilarious ways, has been replicated countless times. Most recently, I think I saw it on an episode of SNL. Also, the old "cut some dude's tie off" routine (which, for all I know, predates the Marx Brothers), pops up in The Wire, a Capital One commercial with Alec Baldwin, and countless other places I'm sure.

At least they knew how to keep movies short back then. At 92 minutes, A Night at the Opera practically feels like an epic. I think I fell asleep. I'm sure at some point I'll re-watch it, since I'll feel guilty about not liking it, but at least I won't waste too much time on it.

Duck Soup (1933)

Terry's Grade: B-

Groucho is some sort of charlatan who convinces a wealthy woman from some obscure, made-up European country ("Freedonia") to appoint him leader. Chico and Harpo are a duo of spies sent to infiltrate Groucho's government. They try to steal Freedonia's secret war plans, which results in Harpo dressed up in disguise as Groucho in his pajamas (complete with a pointy nightcap), sneaking around the lady's mansion. Eventually he runs into the real Groucho, and the mirror scene ensues. Later, they all go to war. Not that any of that really matters, it's just an excuse for jokes. There are songs, too. I liked this better than Opera, maybe because it's shorter, maybe because it's a little zanier.

 

A Night at the Opera (1935)

Terry's Grade: C

Admittedly, I think I fell asleep at some point during this movie. The basic plot is that Groucho overhears someone talking about how much some famous opera singer is going to be paid, then he mistakenly signs a contract with a different singer, thinking he's the famous one. Chico plays the lesser singer's manager, and Harpo plays a "dresser," basically a costume assistant. The scene with the drafting of the contract is kind of funny, if a bit too long:

Somehow, they all end up on a steamer. There is a classic scene where dozens of people end up crammed into Groucho's cabin:

Eventually they do end up at the opera, and chaos ensues (you know, backdrops going up and down, people swinging from the rafters). That kind of comedy doesn't really do it for me. My recommendation is to watch a few clips on YouTube of the most famous scenes, and save yourself the trouble of watching the whole film.

Sunset Blvd. (1950)

Terry's Grade: B+

Well, here's another one for the "movies about movies" category. Lots of cameos in this one, most notably (to me) Cecil B. Demille and Buster Keaton. Both of those guys are really just names to me, but they're famous names.

Summary: Struggling Hollywood writer Joe Gillis (William Holden), while trying to evade the repo men who are after his car, stumbles onto the decrepit estate of aging, washed-up, yet still fantastically wealthy, silent-era actress Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson). She hires him to help her edit a screenplay she's written (the story of Salome, the dancing-girl who was paid to murder by beheading John the Baptist). Norma is desperately lonely, so she uses all kinds of gifts and tricks (including a suicide attempt) to keep Joe around. Meanwhile, Joe starts falling in love with Betty (Nancy Olson), an aspiring writer who also happens to be his best friend's fiance. Through it all, there is Max von Mayerling (Eric von Stroheim), Norma's faithful servant and driver (and ex-director and ex-husband). Things don't really go well for anybody.

The opening scene reveals a lot about the ending of the movie, and it's one of those scenes that leaves me wondering how much the director expects his audience to grasp. My brain finally made the connection maybe about ten minutes after the scene, and I'd guess that while many other viewers also probably come to the same realization, many others probably don't. There are other movies where the ending is also revealed early in the film, but the director tries to obscure it to some degree. (I'm sorry if that paragraph is opaque, but I'm trying to avoid spoilers... I know, I know...)

Also, this being a movie about a forgotten silent-era movie star, there are connections to The Artist. Valentine is certainly partly inspired by Norma Desmond (watching her old movies alone in her house, as smoke wafts up into the light of the projector), but you could also make the connection between the butler/driver Max and James Cromwell's character in The Artist, as well as the two cars themselves. Also, in Sunset Blvd. they keep mentioning some guy named Valentino, which sounds a lot like The Artist's main character.

There's a bonus to watching the DVD rather than just streaming the movie online: the bonus features for Sunset Blvd. actually included a little (15-minute) retrospective, with interviews from various cast members and others. I've wished for that kind of thing on several other of the older, classic films we've watched recently, but surprisingly (or not?) many of those older films don't have any special features whatsoever. Without that special feature I never would have known that the actor who plays the butler/ex-husband/ex-director Max has such an epic name, Eric von Stroheim (well, I might have figured that much out), and that he himself was a former director, who had directed Gloria Swanson in her youth, and even directed the film Queen Kelly, whose footage we see in the scene where Desmond watches her old film. Or that Swanson's career at least somewhat mimicked that of her character in the film (although, if you're casting a 50-year-old Hollywood actress to play a 50-year-old Hollywood actress, there are inevitably going to be some similarities).

Ultimately, I can see why this is a classic movie. There are a few great shots (mainly the early shot from under the pool, which turns out to have actually been shot above the pool using a mirror), quality performances, and a classic story line. As I watched, I was imagining a remake starring Helen Mirren as the old actress and Ewan McGregor as the writer, although it might be that they're both too old for those roles at this point. But then I saw Glenn Close talking about how she'd only done "Sunset Blvd: The Musical" because it was a musical and it would be impossible to do a straight remake of the movie. That's definitely true; you can't remake classic movies. But when you have a classic story, you can remake it forever, and at the heart of Sunset Blvd. is a classic story. (Even within the movie, you have at least two classic stories referenced: Cecil B. Demille is in the process of filming "Sampson and Delilah", and Norma's script is the story of Salome, the famous beheader of John the Baptist, who has been endlessly painted.) Although she gets a lot of praise for her acting in this movie, I think Gloria Swanson goes just a little too overboard for my taste. That said, I really enjoyed watching this movie and I'm glad I did. It's even probably worth a re-watch after a year or so.

(On the word "gay"; Norma recalls to Cecil that the last time they met was at a "gay" place, meaning a dance club or a party or something like that. Just interesting that it's 11 years after the "gay" line in Bringing Up Baby, but still plenty early enough to use the word "gay" in the joyous sense without a second thought. Also, there's really no homosexual content in this movie, explicit or implicit, as far as  I could tell, not that that's surprising.)

Young Adult (2011)

Terry's Grade: C+

 Guys like me are born loving girls like you.

This was not my pick of a movie, although that's not to say I would never have decided to see it on my own. It was a decent movie, and I had a great time going to see it: this was my first trip to the Cedar-Lee theater here in Cleveland Heights, and it turned out to be free! There was some week-long Key Bank propaganda thing going on, and I guess they'd been doing give-aways all over town. That night, we all got free tickets and free popcorn, although the event hadn't been publicized (the staff said they'd only found out a few hours earlier), so there wasn't really a crowd. So that (and a couple of pre-film cocktails) put me in a good mood before the movie even got rolling.

This all happened a few weeks ago, so I might not have these details all correct, but here goes. Charlize Theron plays Mavis Gary, a professional novelist living in the "big city" of Minneapolis. She is not satisfied with her life; she is part of a team of writers producing young adult pulp under common pseudonym. When she finds out that her high-school boyfriend Buddy Slade (an excellent name for a character, played by Patrick Wilson) and his wife Beth (Elizabeth Reaser) are having a baby, she decides to head back to stalk him and try to break up their marriage. She runs into another high-school classmate Matt (Patton Oswalt) at the bar, and they slowly hit it off. Matt was not popular in high school, and is remembered for being severely beaten in high school by homophobes who thought he was gay. As a result, he's had to walk on crutches his entire life. That very interesting, dark, component to his character is one of the details that makes Young Adult interesting. I've never seen a character like that before, and it's such a significant detail of his character, very visible because of the fact that he's always using crutches, and yet it doesn't really become a central part of the story.

I think that may be intentional, since the real point of the movie seems to be showing us what a completely self-centered asshat Mavis is. I was reminded of The Graduate, in the way that during the movie you start off rooting for Mavis, who's the protagonist after all, but by the end of the movie you realize that she's just a crazy, alcoholic, narcissist. The medium of film almost, just almost, makes you not realize that their actions are totally unacceptable. Just when we think she may be about to have a breakthrough, she has a pseudo-epiphany (aided by Matt's sister, played excellently by Collette Wolf), which brings her back to her original point of view. In fact (according to my notes) Mavis even quotes The Graduate in the movie, interpreting its message as "love conquers all." I think that says enough about her character.

With Charlize Theron, Patton Oswalt, and Patrick Wilson, this could be considered a pretty good cast. I've really started to like Patrick Wilson after seeing him first in Hard Candy, then The Watchmen, and Little Children. He seems to end up playing characters who are part-boring, part-interesting (of course, superhero+alter-ego is the clearest example, but suburban-dwelling housedad who dreams of riding skateboards also fits). I don't really like Charlize Theron, but I don't dislike her. I think Ciderhouse Rules is her only movie that I really enjoyed. She was good in The Road, but had little screen time and less dialogue. Patton Oswalt is getting some interesting, dark-comedy roles lately (see this movie, plus Big Fan), but I'm not really on the Patton Oswalt bandwagon. I thought Collette Wolfe was great in her role. Looking on IMDB I think the only other movie I've seen her in was Hot Tub Time Machine; she played John Cusack's sister and was forgettable.

I think in the end, Young Adult is a good movie, but not my movie. It's enjoyable, and there's plenty going on to keep the audience entertained. I really loved an early scene where Mavis packs up and leaves her Minneapolis apartment. It's a scene we've seen many times before: the morning after a one-night stand, the guy wakes up and tries to sneak out without waking up the girl. In Young Adult, not only do we have the girl sneaking out on the guy, she's sneaking out of her own apartment. She gets out of bed, grabs some clothes and her dog, then gets in her car for a roadtrip, leaving some rando dude still sleeping in her bed. It's a great inversion of a standard trope. That kind of thing, plus various film references (e.g. The Graduate references mentioned above, or the fact that Matt's home-distilled whiskey is named "Mos Eisley") make Young Adult fun to watch, but it's another movie with unlikeable characters, and it's not exactly a gripping story. It avoids being predictable, but that doesn't really matter much if you don't care how the movie ends.

On an unrelated note, before the film we saw previews for Albert Nobbs, where Glenn Close plays a woman passing as a man in early 1900s England (I think). Is it weird to say her character looks more than a little like Mrs. Doubtfire? Maybe it's just the excessive makeup and kind of stretched-looking face. Anyway that looks to be an interesting movie I hope I see.

The Searchers (1956)

Terry's Grade: C+

This movie didn't really resonate with me. It has an okay story, and great landscape visuals, but the portrayal of the native Americans is worthless, many of the performances are over the top (in a bad way), and there's nobody in this movie you can really relate to.

John Wayne stars as Ethan Edwards, a Cival War veteran (for the Confederates), who returns home several years after the war's ended, still wearing his uniform (as he does throughout the film). We suspect he's been up to no good, based on the fact that he pays his brother Aaron (Walter Coy) with a sack full of freshly-minted, uncirculated American dollars. Also he's a jerk.

Why is the movie called The Searchers? When Indians abduct his niece Debbie (played first by Lana Wood, then as a teenager by Natalie Wood), Ethan sets off in pursuit, aided primarily by Martin (Jeffrey Hunter). Martin is a part-Indian (one-eighth, he claims) boy who was raised as a son by Aaron and considers Ethan an uncle. Ethan does not, however, consider Martin his nephew, and repeatedly reminds him that they share no blood relation. Basically, I guess, Ethan is a racist who hates Indians. He can speak some Comanche, which helps somewhat in their search, but not that much, since it takes them five years before they finally catch a glimpse of Debbie.

Ethan might make a more convincing character if he was played more as the racist jerk he is. But with John Wayne in the role, he just seems a bit curmudgeonly. Throughout the movie it just feels like the dramatic action in the script (rape, murder, love, revenge) isn't quite matched by the actors' performances. I guess this is a factor of the genre and the time when the film was made, but it still doesn't work for me.

Although I haven't read it, I could believe that the book is actually a decent book, although I have doubts that it's any fairer in its treatment of Native Americans. The main Indian antagonist, a chief named Scar, is played by Henry Brandon. You might have guessed that he doesn't have a drop of Native American blood in him (in fact, he was born in Germany). Many of the other Indian characters appear to have been played by Native American extras, which is something. But they are portrayed as one-dimensional, universally brutal raiders and scalpers, whose only activities seem to be raping and murdering white people. The only Indian character who rises above this is Martin's accidental wife (he thinks he's trading for a blanket, but purchases a wife instead), "Luk,"played by Beulah Archuletta. Even she is an ambiguous character, since we're not sure if she is a help to Ethan and Martin, or a Comanche informant.

The landscapes are scenic and nice to watch, and overall the story gives an interesting view of the dangers and fears that the pioneers certainly had to deal with. But I just don't think I'll be watching this movie again for fun. I never thought I was a Charlie Chaplin fan, but then I saw some Chaplin movies and realized I liked him a lot. I never thought I was a John Wayne fan, and after seeing The Searchers, I'm not changing my mind.