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.