Production Dude

The Wrestler

2009-02-18T19:49:00.001-05:00

Darren Aronofsky, 2008

Note: at some point this review sort of took on a life of its own and I began to talk about a lot of things I hadn’t intended to. As such, it’s littered with spoilers. If you haven’t see the movie and want to, you probably shouldn’t read this, at least not the last few paragraphs.

I can’t tell you why I didn’t see this movie earlier. To be fair, I’m not really a fan of Aronofsky. I couldn’t wait to see his previous picture, The Fountain, but was badly disappointed by it. Also, while parts of this movie seem right up my alley (particularly Marisa Tomei as a stripper), there was something about it that seemed like it could well kind of suck. And, really, that’s the attitude I’ve had about a lot of the supposedly “great” movies that came out this year. The Reader, Milk, Revolutionary Road, Doubt, and others, some of which I’ll talk about later, all felt like they were just going to lay there. Sure, I figured they’d be good movies, but there was nothing in the trailers or plots even to make me care too much. Still, I held out hope for The Wrestler and headed over to the Coon Rapids Karasotes to see the picture after work this past Friday.

As soon as the opening credits started, I knew I was in there presence of greatness. As the names, framed in stark white, appear on the screen, the camera moves over a disorganized pile of posters and press clippings, all detailing a fictional ‘80s rivalry between Randy “The Ram” Robinson and The Ayatola. I was hooked. From there, we catch up with the Ram in the modern day. He’s washed up now, a has been who spends his weekends autographing Polaroids or fighting matches with men half his age at the local VFW. During the week, he whiles away the days hauling boxes around the back rooms of a local grocery and hanging out at a strip club, getting lap dances from Marisa Tomei who, it has to be said, looks amazing.

During a particularly brutal match, the Ram endures everything from barbwire ripping open his flesh to meeting the business end of a staple gun. After, he collapses in the locker room, the victim of a heart attack. The doctors tell him that his career is over. If he wrestles again, he will die.

It is no mistake that the film is called The Wrestler. That is, at the end of the day, precisely what the Ram is, in the most iconic terms. The Wrestler is who he is; it is all he knows how to be. Still, if the Ram knows anything, it’s how to fight and fight he does, putting up a valiant effort to try and shed the twenty years of ever diminishing fame in favor of a new life. He reaches out to Marisa Tomei, the only woman with whom he has any sort of romantic relationship or even relationship at all. At first, we fear that the Ram is deluding himself with her. She is, after all, a stripper and he is, after all, her client. Yet, that relationship serves to unite them much more than we might suspect. Tomei’s stripper is ultimately facing the same twilight as the Ram. Her entire career is based on the use of her body as a tool. She is the subject of look and fantasy, but as she grows older, that body is failing her. Her clientele is clearly diminishing, just as the Ram’s is. Just as fewer and fewer fans want to see the exploits of an aged wrestler, fewer and fewer johns want lap dances from the aging stripper.

The Ram and Marisa begin a relationship in earnest, he constantly convinced of its viability, she keeping him always at arm’s length, unwilling perhaps to admit to the truths of her own life that a relationship with the Ram might represent, namely that something good could come from her demeaning profession or, worse yet, that she and this tarnished idol are more alike than she ever knew. The Ram simultaneously attempts to take a job at the meat counter of the grocery store and to reconnect with his long estranged daughter.

For a moment, it looks like it all might work. Marisa begins to open up, the Ram and his daughter spend a touching afternoon together as he confesses that all he wants is for her to not hate him. Even the job at the deli counter seems like it might work out, despite the fact that the manager has printed his real name, Robin, on his name badge.

Robin, in fact, is who the Ram is trying to be, just as Marisa Tomei’s stripper, who’s stage name is Cassidy, realizes she wants to be Pam (her real name). But while, Cassidy is just a face Pam puts on, the Ram is the Ram. He is the wrestler and there is no escaping it. It hardly takes long at all for the fragile reality the Ram has constructed in his earnest attempt to be Robin to fall apart completely. A night of hard drinking and sex makes him late for a dinner with his daughter, irreparably damaging their still tender new relationship by reinforcing her image of her father as a man who is never there. Pam keeps him at arms length, leading to a fight at the strip club, and the tedium of the deli counter begins to take its toll.

It is while dealing with an increasingly impatient group of customers that one recognizes Robin as the Ram. Like Saint Peter, the Ram tries to deny it, but the man’s persistence get’s the better of him and in a scene echoing an earlier moment in the ring where the Ram cuts himself with a razor blade to produce some blood for the crowd, the Ram cuts himself on the meat slicer and quits in a fury, blood gushing from his hand.

One might argue that this is not irreparable. As we see in a few intercut scenes, Pam really does care for the Ram and is coming around. Perhaps he can still patch up things with his daughter. Maybe he can get another job.

Contemplating these possibilities, I find myself thinking of two other films. The first is Clint Eastwood’s Million Dollar Baby, where in Hillary Swank’s female boxer suddenly finds herself completely paralyzed, parts of her body suddenly amputated in the night when infections begin to set in. She is a woman whose entire being is based on physicality, on being a boxer. With that denied her, her existence is no longer bearable and she begs Clint Eastwood’s character to euthanize her, an act which cannot be seen as anything but passion and release, particularly once the doctors begin to keep her constantly sedated to prevent her from trying to kill herself by doing things like biting through her tongue. The other movie I find myself thinking of is The Incredibles. There’s this amazing scene in that movie where Mr. Incredible and his family is trapped by the film’s villain. Not long before he was convinced that his family was killed and he confesses that he cannot break out of their trap because he is not strong enough. He doesn’t mean strong enough, physically though. He is not strong enough to risk losing his family again.

This is the image of the Ram I have in these final scenes. Number one: he is the wrestler. He is not Robin and he has been denied his very being. He is literally incapable of being Robin. He doesn’t know how. True, he could keep trying again and again to be that man, but he simply isn’t strong enough for the continued failure. This tower of a man who beat back man after man in the ring, cannot bear to look in his daughter’s eyes and hear her say she doesn’t love him ever again. He isn’t strong enough.

And so, the Ram heads for the biggest wrestling match of the film, a much publicized re-match between himself and The Ayatola, now a used car salesman. There is no mistaking it, though, as the Ram leaves his trailer park home one last time, it is on a suicide mission. Even if, by some miracle he doesn’t die at this match, he will keep wrestling until he does. He doesn’t know how to do anything else.

As the match is about to begin, Pam arrives to talk him out of it. She does care for him, she says, she’s there for him, offering him a reason to step back from the ledge, but the Ram’s mind is made up. He steps into the ring and begins the match. It’s not long before his opponent realizes that the Ram isn’t well. He’s sluggish, having trouble getting up off the matt. He is dying. The Ayatola offers him an easy way out. He will let the Ram win. All he has to do is end it. The Ram looks back to the back stage entrance, but Pam is gone. In that crucial moment, his mind is made up. The Ram climbs the turnbuckle, his legs shaky as he prepares to inflict his trademark body slam on his opponent. He basks in the roar of the crowd for a final brief moment, jumps, and dies.

Australia

2009-02-06T14:25:00.003-05:00

Baz Luhrmann, 2008

Quite simply, Baz Luhrmann’s Australia is the sort of movie they just don’t make anymore and not exactly the film I expected from Luhrmann. Whereas Moulin Rouge, Luhrmann’s previous picture and a personal favorite, was a postmodern masterpiece of the likes of which we hadn’t seen before, Australia is, in many way, precisely and specifically something we’ve seen before. That is not to say the film isn’t good or, indeed, not postmodern. In truth, it’s both of those, but it is also a very different movie from Moulin Rouge. Audiences who were shocked or confused by the frantic energy of Moulin Rouge will enjoy the slower pace and familiar plot of Australia.

Australia, you see, is a cattle drive epic that has much more in common with sprawling American westerns than anything else. Nicole Kidman is Lady Sarah Ashley, a member of the British upper crust who has journeyed to 1940s Australia to assist her husband in selling a failing cattle ranch set up amidst Australia’s Outback. When she arrives, however, she finds her husband already dead, murdered by a nefarious cattle hand who has been rustling Nicole’s cattle to a rival ranch. Of course, Nicole decides to take on a cross country cattle drive herself, recruiting a ragtag team that includes an Aboriginal woman, a young, half-caste Aboriginal boy, a drunk bookkeeper, and the Drover. The Drover is the ruggedly handsome, rough around the edges loner played by Hugh Jackman. A sort of freelance cattle driver, the Drover is the sort of character that’s right at home in American westerns (to be fair, there’s more than a little of the Australian ocker character – Crocodile Dundee is a popular if a bit imperfect example – to the Drover as well and the two concepts are not mutually exclusive, but I’ve hardly the time to get into that here and now). Of course, he and Nicole hate each other at first, but soon find themselves in each other’s arms. The film follows the cattle drive through the gorgeous scenery of the Outback before segueing into a second act that’s more about Hugh and Nicole’s romance and a third act set amidst a Japanese attack on Australia in the weeks following Pearl Harbor.

The familiar ground of the plot does not hinder the film, though. Indeed, it is, in many ways, an asset. For one the familiar plot, gives the viewer ample time to admire the gorgeous scenery (which, of course, includes the always ravishing Ms. Kidman). It isn’t a worn out plot, either, meaning that there are still plenty of thrilling and heartbreaking moments, like in the stampede about a third of the way into the film. Further, while familiar, this really is the sort of thing we just don’t see on the screen anymore, which, ironically, makes the film stand out as something unique amongst the other new releases. It is a step back in time, not just in the setting, but in the filmmaking as well.

One last thing: it is easy to think of Australia as a picturesque movie that casts it’s world as a sort of paradise and, indeed, the film does do that in part, but that doesn’t mean that it shies away from the darker aspects of the time. In the 1940s, Australia was engaged in a practice that led to what has become known as “the stolen generation.” The stolen generation is a regular subject in such Australian films as Rabbit-Proof Fence but which remains relatively unknown to Americans. At that time in Australia, it was common practice for the government to forcibly remove half-white/half-black Aboriginal children from their mothers, many of whom were the victims of rape. These children were then sent to a mission island off the Australian coast where they were raised by the church with the express purpose of “breeding the black out of them,” by denying them any link to their rich Aboriginal heritage. The stolen generation, then, is just that: an entire generation of children stolen by the government from their parents and their culture. This tragedy is examined through the character of Nullah, the half-caste boy who lives on Nicole’s ranch and whom she eventually comes to think of as her own child. This sets up for some nice drama in the third act as the film’s villain (the cattle rustler from earlier) threatens to send Nullah, in truth his own bastard son, to the mission island. Of course, Nicole is horrified both by the prospect of losing the boy and of the general practice, even though she herself has tried to keep Nullah from indulging in his heritage by going on walkabout with his Aboriginal grandfather (played by the seemingly ever-present Aboriginal actor David Gulpilil of Crocodile Dundee, Rabbit-Proof Fence, and The Last Wave fame).

Ultimately, while not as stunningly original as Moulin Rouge, Australia is a really solid, entertaining picture that really stands out from the regular box office fare of today. It’s a trip back to a different time that’s well worth taking, particularly if you long for the cattle driving epics of yesteryear. Three stars.

Highlander II (Renegade Version)

2009-01-28T00:18:00.002-05:00

Russell Mulcahy, 1991

The year is 2026 for some reason. Connor MacLeod (of the clan MacLeod) is now an old man or at least a raspy voiced guy with shitty old man make-up. The world is covered by a neon red dome to stop the UV rays from killing us all now that the ozone layer is gone or something. Oh and somehow the neon red sky has ruined civilization. Oh and Connor isn’t a 16th century Highlander who met Sean Connery, trained, watched Connery get killed, and then spends the next three hundred years beheading his other immortal rivals, he’s some sort of alien immortal from Earth’s distant past who got exiled to the future by Michael Ironside who, now that five hundred years has passed, decides to kill Connor proper like and dispatches a pair of porcupine-haired immortal leather fiends to kill him. In the future. I guess. Then he comes to the future himself. Then Sean Connery somehow comes back from the dead. Then he and Connor decide to blow up the energy shield for some reason. Oh and it turns out Connor built the shield in the first place. And he manages to get Virginia Madsen to have sex with him in an alley five minutes after they meet. Then Sean Connery dies again. Then Connor and Michael Ironside, who’s wearing a goofy longhair fright wig for some reason, fight. And I guess the world gets saved. I’m not really sure.

Let the Right One In (Lat den Ratte Komma In)

2009-01-26T23:22:00.002-05:00

Tomas Alfredson, 2008

So I spent the better part of Saturday afternoon and evening finishing up my book (The Comic Book Podcast Companion - http://www.amazon.com/Comic-Book-Podcast-Companion/dp/1605490180/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1233023541&sr=8-1), which, incidentally is what kept me away from this poor, neglected blog for so long. By about 10:30, I was pretty burnt out and desperately needed a break. A quick glance at the trusty Internets revealed that Let the Right One In, a Swedish vampire flick I’d heard nothing but good things about, was playing down at the Riverview. Better yet, it was starting in twenty minutes and a mad, late night dash to the theater in the frigid Minnesota winter was exactly what I needed to get outside of my own head.

Like usual, I made it just in time, paid my three dollars (all in nickels and dimes, ‘natch) and picked out my seat amongst the near capacity crowd. That, by the way, is one thing I love about the cities. Here’s a place where easily three to four hundred people (the Riverview is a big place) will brave the cold to see a Swedish vampire movie. Truly, these are my people. Now, finding my seat was a little tricky as I came in just as the credits started. The credits consisted of a stark black screen, broken occasionally by small white text and a flurry of snowflakes. When I say the movie started out dark, I mean that literally. There was hardly enough reflected light to find an empty seat, forcing me into one on the aisle.

The credits set the perfect tone for the film as much of it takes place in the dark and the snow of a series of Swedish winter nights. The mood was everything 30 Days of Night aspired to, but missed in no small part because of its desire to be a crowd pleasing blockbuster. Let the Right One In, due I’m sure in no small part to the virtue of it’s being a foreign film, has little interest in going for the broader audience and that’s definitely to the film’s advantage. It’s not for everyone, but, if it’s what you’re into, you’re going to love it.

The story centers around Oskar (Kare Hedebrant), a bullied and ignored child who meets a young girl named Eli (Lina Leandersson) in the snow outside his apartment building one dark night. Eli is, of course, a vampire. She tells Oskar that, like him, she is twelve years old, but that she has been twelve for a long time. It’s a neat idea, if one that we’ve seen before. After all, the eternal little girl vampire played by Kirsten Dunst was the most interesting part of Interview with the Vampire. Interestingly, Eli acts throughout like a 12 year-old would, as if she truly is eternally 12 and not an experience old mind trapped in a 12 year-old body. Thanks to that fact, she and Oskar develop a true friendship that edges throughout the movie into the territory of young love. Eli encourages the best in Oskar, prompting him to finally stand up to the bullies who have long besieged him while Oskar gives Eli the compassion and simple companionship that has apparently been gone from her life for so long.

Now, from that description, you may well imagine a movie about love and friendship that’s fit for the whole family. That couldn’t be further from the truth. True, there is love and friendship, but, as I said before, it is set amidst blackness. Eli is, after all, a vampire. Better yet, she’s an old school monster vampire. So many vampire pictures these days imagine the blood-suckers as tall, wispy, long haired sex symbols who spend an inordinate amount of time loving and brooding (I’m looking at you, Twilight). Somewhere along the road, we traded Bram Stoker for Anne Rice and forgot that vampires are scary. Let the Right One In, however, embraces the old school. Eli may be a 12 year-old girl, but that only heightens her monstrosity when it does indeed manifest. Not long after we meet her, she claims her first victim, luring an older man into picking her up, ostensibly to carry her to the hospital. Once in his arms, she savagely tears into neck, crouching atop him once he falls, snarling and slurping, feeding like a beast. When Eli kills, it isn’t elegant; it’s feral.

The film features a number of fantastic deaths and dismemberments, most of which are shot from such a distance to avoid comical gore of any sort, leaving only the sense of horrible event as seen by an eye witness somewhere down the road. The penultimate pool scene in particular is pretty amazing and I’d love to describe it here, but to do so would spoil one of the most amazing on-screen killings I’ve seen in years, not to mention a really satisfying ending for the film.

Eli is not the film’s only killer. When we meet her, Eli lives with an older man. He is Eli’s caretaker, which means that he leaves the apartment at night, carrying a bottle of ether, a funnel, a gallon jug, a plastic raincoat, and a knife to prey on unsuspecting pedestrians. That he adds a jar of acid to his tool kit only makes the scenario more horrifying and tragic. We never know who he is. At one point, Eli tells a nurse that the man is her “papa,” but that could easily be a lie. Whoever he is, he loves Eli. He may well be her papa or perhaps a brother who aged when she didn’t or, even sadder, another who, like Oskar, fell in love with Eli as a boy but grew old as she stayed young, leaving him to watch another win her heart. In this interpretation, we are also left with the sad conclusion that perhaps his is the same fate that one day awaits Oskar. The film never comes down concretely on his identity and I prefer it that way.

All that said, the film is a bit flawed. It is ultimately a little long in the tooth (if you’ll pardon the pun) and a bit too ponderous. Still, what works works so well as to make any flaws forgivable. That penultimate pool scene is such a stroke of brilliance that I’m certain to think of this movie for some time as both the most effective horror film I’ve seen in years (certainly since The Descent) and one of the more heartwarming. Three and a half stars all the way.

In any case, I’m apparently back at it. With the book finally done, I think I should have the time for this old blog again. And it seems like I picked just the right time to come back as it’s Dudies time once again. Look for those in the coming weeks. Until then, thanks for reading.

Happy Hogswatch

2008-03-07T01:25:00.003-05:00

Over the past few days, I have been lucky enough to catch a couple of truly wonderful films. The first of these, Hogfather, is really more of a mini-series, I suppose, produced in 2006 for British television. Hogfather, while sharing, at the most basic level, many of the themes of your average American Hallmark mini-series, the sort that plays across two or three nights on NBC – Merlin for example, is a significantly better written and produced affair. The film/mini-series is based on one of the books in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series. While I am somewhat familiar with Mr. Pratchett from his and Neil Gaiman’s collaboration Good Omens, I have never read any of the Discworld novels. Further, as Hogfather is apparently the 20th such novel, I approached this film with some small amount of reservation. Luckily, there is little one needs to know about Discworld that isn’t explained up front. Further, the plot itself stands largely apart from the rest of the series, while those characters who do carry over from other novels all have the necessary parts of their backstory explained in due course.

Discworld, it seems, is a sort of fantasy world, the sort where magic is real and wizards exist, placed in a contemporary setting. What’s more, Discworld is, in fact, a disc, a flat earth situated atop the backs of four elephants who stand on top of a the shell of a giant turtle that floats through space. As the film opens, we learn that it is Hogswatch Eve on Discworld, roughly the equivalent of Christmas Eve on Earth, and that the Hogfather, think Santa Claus but with tusks and an affinity for pork products, will soon arrive with presents for all the small children of Discworld. At least, that’s what is supposed to happen. Unfortunately, someone has hired the Guild of Assassins to dispose of the Hogfather. The Guild sends the bizarre Mr. Teatime (Tay-uh-tym-ee), a bizarre little man with curly blonde hair, boyish good looks, frightening eyes and a disturbing cadence that sounds a bit like Johnny Depp’s Willy Wonka. As Teatime invades the Toothfairy’s castle in a clever bid to control the belief of the world’s children through their teeth, Death, your standard robed skeleton, discovers the waning belief in the Hogfather and decides to take the jolly one’s place. So, with red suit and fake beard in place, Death himself sets out to play Santa, ostensibly buying time for his granddaughter, Susan, a damned cute girl with stark white hair streaked with black, to both discover and thwart Teatime’s plan. It is, admittedly, a rather complex piece of work, but that is to the film’s credit. After all, everything is explained in time and the ride along the way is a very enjoyable, charming one that ends with a subtle, yet profound truth about the very nature of humanity. I can’t recommend the whimsical Hogfather enough, if only to watch Death himself attempt time and time again to perfect his “Ho ho ho.”

The second film I want to share with you is 1967’s The President’s Analyst. James Coburn is hilarious as a psychiatrist who has been secured to become analyst to the (unnamed) president of the United States. Coburn is at the president’s constant beck and call, trying his damnedest to calm the gargantuan fears of the leader of the free world. Before long, Coburn runs away, first with a family of gun mad liberals (led by the terrific William Daniels) and, later, with a group of hippies. Of course, every intelligence agency on the planet, including Russia, Canada, China, and two US organizations, are after the man with intimate knowledge of the president’s deepest secrets. There are several hilarious bits in this film, including a montage of Coburn being inopportunely summoned to the president’s side and a series of assassins murdering each other one by one in order to get a shot at Coburn as he picnics in a field. Alright, so it sounds more like a thriller on paper, but trust me, this is funny, funny stuff and easily one of the best edited movies I’ve seen in years.

The 2007 Dudie Awards

2008-02-28T22:44:00.012-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Academy of Eric Houston Arts and Sciences, in association with The National Brotherhood of Erics Local 247, are proud to present the 2007 Dudie Awards.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, with some quick thoughts on rejection for those who didn’t win this year, our host, co-star of the upcoming Run, Fatboy, Run, Dylan Moran!

Thank you, Dylan. And now, a quick word about the two year long history of the Dudies. The Dudies were conceived by me as a cheap Oscar rip-off and they remain that to this day. The winners of the Dudies will each receive one of our lovely Burt Reynolds (from Gator) statuettes. The practice of awarding a Dom DeLouise medallion to the runners up, has been discontinued by popular suggestion from said runners up.

And now, without further adieu, The Dudies.

Best Romance – Stardust

Stardust, based on the illustrated novel by Neil Gaiman and Charlie Vess was one of my favorite movies this year and, at it’s heart, is the irresistible romance between Tristan and a fallen star possessed of human form. Claire Daines playes the star, named Yvaine. Now, I’ve never cared much for Ms Daines, but you’d have to have a heart of stone not to fall in love with her and Yvaine in this picture, particularly after the scene in Ditchwater Sal’s wagon. It’s also worth pointing out that, while the romance is the heart of this picture, there’s plenty of other stuff going on to entertain as well, including a comic competition between seven princes to be the last one still alive.

Best Animated Feature That Wasn’t Ratatouille

This actually wasn’t a bad year for animated movies. Of course, Ratatouille was spectacular, but there were a couple of nice surprises this year in addition to Brad Bird’s charming opus. As is usually the case, these other animated films were very poorly marketed, sold as pure kids fare instead of the all ages pictures they were. Of these, the best were (tie) Meet the Robinsons and Bee Movie. Meet the Robinsons was the movie that had the commercial featuring a talking T-rex, who said, “I have a big head and little arms.” Admittedly, not the comedy high point of that movie, but you might recall it. It also happens to be the story of a young orphan boy brought through time to an exciting future to meet, what is very clearly, his future family (after his future son has lost one of the family’s two time machines by leaving the garage door unlocked). The picture also features a Snydley Whiplash style villain (in both appearance and performance), complete with his own entertaining back-story and sentient bowler derby. There are also a few well-placed Tom Selleck jokes.

Bee Movie, meanwhile, features a bee played by Jerry Seinfeld. As you’ve probably guessed, that equals a bee that talks like Jerry, acts like Jerry, and makes observational jokes. Frankly, a lot of these jokes about the lives of bees are pretty funny, as is the plot, revolving around Jerry the Bee falling for a human woman, suing humanity for stealing honey, and then making up for the fallout of his impulsive actions. It turns out to be a damn funny movie with a halfway decent message.

Best DVD Release – Blade Runner Final Cut

Five cuts of the movie, a feature length documentary, a mountain of supplemental materials, production stills, a plastic “origami” unicorn, a toy police car, some sort of lenticular doo dad, a letter from Ridley Scott, a fancy file folder, a replica of Harrison Ford’s briefcase, one of Sean Young’s eyelashes, a make-up sponge used on Daryll Hannah, a midget that recites “This Little Pig Went to Market,” and a sliver from the true cross. Go buy it today.

Best Documentary – The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters

Heroes, villains, geeks, and one perennial loser, who just wants to win the world record at Donkey Kong. The problem is, the video gaming elite won’t let him. These are the ingredients of the best documentary of the year, a movie that is at once funny, ridiculous, heartwarming, heart breaking. It’s the most entertaining documentary to come out in years and it’s a damn shame it wasn’t nominated for Oscar. Still, you should go out and see it. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.

Worst Part 3 – Shrek the Third

It seems that this was the year of the part three: Pirates of the Carribean 3, Spider-Man 3, Shrek the Third, and I think a couple of others. The problem is – they all sucked. Ah, but which sucked the most? Spider-Man 3, particularly when compared to the exceptional part two, is a major disappointment, but at least there are a few high points. Pirates of the Carribean 3 benefits from having created most of its problems (weird plot, pointless re-use of characters from the first film, stupid fish monsters in its second part. Shrek 3, meanwhile, came off two superior films with a major disappointment. There was nothing funny about this underwritten fugitive from the made for DVD market and in a medium where it takes years and years to create one film, you’d think someone would have noticed at some point how badly this one stunk.

Best TV Show to Movie Translation – The Simpsons Movie

It took a good ten years longer than it should have, but we finally got ourselves a Simpsons movie and, you know what, even though the show’s been going downhill for years, this movie was pretty good. High points included Homer calling anyone who’d pay money to see free TV characters idiots and, of course, Spider-Pig.

The Burt Reynolds Memorial “I Know He Isn’t Dead Yet” Machismo Award

We at the Dudies home office were all prepared to give this sucker to Gerard Butler for his testosterone driven performances as King Leonidas in 300. After seeing Gerard in that movie, we spent weeks running around the home office naked, gnawing on raw beef and screeming, “This is Sparta!” Then, the unthinkable happened: Gerard threw away all his man cred by appearing in the decidedly femmy PS I Love You. Say it ain’t so, man. Say it ain’t so! Well, it was so. That’s why this years winner is not the Spartan king, but Paul Rudd. Paul Rudd is a comedian whom you have probably seen as a background character in a number of movies, including The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up. He is very funny. Well, this year he also appeared in The Ten, where, as the narrator of a series of comedic skits about the Ten Commandments, he manages to bed both uber hottie Famke Janssen and Jessica Alba. Hoo boy. Now, that’s manly.

Note: I was going to run a clip here of Rudd with Jessica Alba, but the only one I could find on YouTube was much, much too dirty (although hilarious) to post here. I would like to point out, though, that that only cements his worthiness for this award.

Best Western, Best Cinematography, Longest Title, and Favorite Picture (Runner-Up) –The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford is a fascinating, engrossing, well-performed, beautifully shot, and superbly directed picture. The train robbery scene, shot by the always amazing Richard Deakins, is particularly gorgeous. This is the only picture this year that I had absolutely no problems with, and, yet, it still wasn’t my favorite picture.

Best Movie to Take Your Daughter To – Enchanted

Aside from being another in a string of surprisingly good family films and aside from featuring the cute as a button Amy Adams (Amy? Call me), Enchanted also has a great message for the all too princess obsessed youth: maybe it isn’t a good idea to marry a guy you met yesterday.

And now, a musical interlude from Enchanted, featuring the aforementioned cutie, Amy Adams.

Best Action/Comedy – Hot Fuzz

Of course, I have to give some mad props to Hot Fuzz. I am, without any doubt, wholly in love with both Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright, the writers and, respectively, star and director of both Shawn of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. These movies are not only hilarious spoofs, but are, in fact, the perfect distillation of the genre they take on. That is to say, just as Shawn of the Dead is now regarded as one of the best zombie movies ever made, Hot Fuzz is easily one of the best police action movies ever made, thanks in no small part to Wright’s amazing direction and editing and the incredibly smart script. Also, it doesn’t hurt matters that the picture features such brilliant British thespians as Edward Woodward, Jim Broadbent, Bill Nighy, and Timothy Dalton.

Geek-gasm Moment –I am Optimus Prime

I’m sitting there in the theater. The lights go dark and then, over the numerous speakers comes the rumbling, familiar voice of Optimus Prime. Instantly, a part of myself was transported back to my childhood, while the rest of me nursed a major geek hard-on for the next hour.

Best (Independent) Picture No One Saw – Lars and the Real Girl

It’s about a guy who falls in love with his sex doll! How could you not want to see it?

Sci-Fi Picture – Sunshine

Sunshine is a clever sci-fi movie about a mission to reignite the sun. True, much of the movie cribs from other sci-fi greats, but, somehow, it really works. The film was directed by 28 Days Later’s Danny Boyle and stars Cillian “Freaky Eyes” Murphy and features a shockingly non-annoying performance from FF2’s Chris Evans.

Worst Picture – Resurrecting the Champ

Resurrecting the Champ started out as an ad campaign composed of pure Oscar bait, bosting a career making performance from Samuel L. Jackson, a man, who, frankly, already has a pretty solid career. Admittedly Samuel’s performance here is decidedly different from his usual shtick. You see, in Champ, Samuel speaks in a raspy whisper rather than shouting. Still, the film is overlong, underwritten, and entirely too sappy. Worst of all, though, is a craptacular performance by the winner of this year’s worst thing ever award, Josh Hartnett. Josh planned to be here to accept his awards, but he was unfortunately placed in a wet paper bag yesterday and has yet to act his way out.

Hottest Actress (Animated) – Angelina Jolie

Naked Angelina? And in 3-D?! As the small child in my theater said when we first saw that CGI ass, “Wow.”

Best Screenplay – Juno

Well written, clever, heartfelt, and all from an ex-Minneapolis stripper… and you know I like strippers.

Best Actress – Ellen Page

The best thing about Juno, even better than the screenplay, was Ellen Page’s performance. Without such commitment to her quirky character, the screenplay could easily have fallen on its face. Fortunately, Ellen was able to use it to create a fully realized character that rings truer than most.

Best Horror Movie – The Mist

Despite it’s overly tragic ending, The Mist is an incredibly engaging horror film from the director of The Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile. The story concentrates on a group of average men and women trapped in a grocery store as fog surrounds their small New England town. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, except, of course, that there’s something in the mist and, unlike the John Carpenter film, what’s in the mist is significantly larger and deadlier than ghost pirates. Still, what’s most interesting about this picture is that it that the monsters are not the most terrifying part – it’s what the people themselves become when put into the situation. Better news is that the DVD will include a special black and white version of the film that ought to bring it even closer to its Twilight Zone-esque roots.

Best Supporting Actress – Marcia Gay Harden

Marcia is usually a pleasure to watch, but she really shines here, perfectly embodying an overzealous bible thumper who becomes a crazed cult leader after just a taste of power. All this happens in The Mist. When the monsters begin to appear, Marcia preaches that the end times have come. At first, no one believes her, but mounting fear and a couple of lucky, obvious predictions give her frightening power, making her a terror much more potent than the CGI monsters outside.

MVP and Best Supporting Actor – This year’s most valuable player is, without a doubt and surprisingly, Casey Affleck. That’s right, Ben’s younger brother turned in two amazing performances this year. First, he played the cut rake Brooklyn detective who stumbles on a case with a juicy moral center in big brother Ben’s directorial debut, Gone Baby Gone. Then, he gave an Academy Award nominated performance as the titular assassin in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Both were great performances that made their respective movies a pair of my favorites for this year.

Best Actor – Javier Bardem

As immoral bounty hunter Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men, Javier Bardem created a truly memorable screen villain. Perhaps the best scene in No Country comes when Anton tries to check out at a gas station. The elderly attendant casually mentions that he notice the state of the license plate on Anton’s (stolen) car. This man could help authorities track Anton and it seems like a good idea to kill him, but Chigurh decides to leave it up to a coin toss. Check it out:

Best Director – The Coen Brothers

The Coens showed up to play this year. They’ve made numerous classic films over the last twenty plus years and, while not necessarily my favorite, No Country for Old Men is without a doubt one of their best. The directing here is top notch. The film is full of nuanced performances, a fascinating, atypical narrative style, beautiful Western vistas, suspenseful moments, and scores of those interesting, Sturges-like faces the Coens so love. If you like the Coen brothers, and their dramatic side in particular, you owe it to yourself to see this movie.

Best Picture Actually Nominated For Best Picture – No Country For Old Men

What a movie! And, hey, it actually won best picture, too. Yay Coen Brothers. Admittedly, this still isn’t my favorite of their movies. It is, after all, no Big Lebowski, but it’s still a damn fine picture. What it is, for those of you not in the know, is a brilliant character examination of pure evil, in the form of bounty hunter/assassin Anton Chigurh, a man whose motives are ruled by fate and a twisted code of honor, but never by any recognizable morality. Sheriff Tommy Lee Jones and prey Josh Brolin both run afoul of Chigurh, as does another bounty hunter, amiably played by Woody Harrelson in a sort of Bat Lash/ Water Hole No. 7 sort of mold, and an elderly gas station manager. The movie is beautiful, haunting, thought provoking, and utterly unforgettable, if never quite conventional.

Worst Picture Actually Nominated For Best Picture – Attonement

Now, I have to admit that my animosity for this movie is somewhat tempered by my seeing it in the most uncomfortable theatrical setting I’ve found myself in in years. I went to see this movie at the Mann Highlands near St. Catherine’s College in Saint Paul. I’d never been to the theater – it’s a little two screener (converted from one) in the middle of a charming, out of the way business district. Well, I couldn’t have been more disappointed with the theater. The seats were tiny and much too close together and I could neither slouch nor cross my legs for the duration. The screen was also by far the smallest I’ve ever seen. It was so small, in fact, that I nearly asked for my money back before even taking my seat. After all, this screen wasn’t even as big as some televisions. Still, I sat for the movie. I even endured chatter from confused elderly people and even answered some of their questions (which were actually directed at me). The movie itself is slow, pretentious, and uninteresting. Visually, it is admittedly impressive, but it is very, very lacking narratively. Plus, there’s a twist that has all the impact of a mosquito hitting the windshield. Bah phooey, sir. Bah phooey.

Favorite Movie and Best Theatrical Experience of the Year – Grindhouse

Grindhouse is easily the most fun I’ve had in a theater in at least five years. Clocking in at almost three hours, Grindhouse contains two seventies grindhouse style pictures and a handful of fake trailers directed by the likes of Edgar Wright (my new favorite director) and Rob Zombie. One of these trailers, Machete (“You just messed with the wrong Mexican.”) is included below for your viewing pleasure. Meanwhile, Planet Terror, directed by Robert Rodriguez, is the story of a zombie apocalypse, which involves a stripper with a machine gun leg. The other picture, Death Proof, directed by Quentin Tarrantino, features the always awesome Kurt Russell as a homicidal stunt driver. If I have any quibbles with this movie, it’s that Death Proof starts out too slow and that Tarrantino doesn’t quite commit to the whole grindhouse concept as much as he might. Regardless, this is a gory, hilarious, mind-blowing experience. Also, if you want a good time, do what I did and catch it at midnight the night before Easter.

Well, that’s it. It’s been a long Dudies this year, but part of that is to make up for not giving many of these films the proper reviews they deserved over the last years. Anyway, drive home safe. Your local news is next.

Fred Garvin

2008-02-26T17:15:00.001-05:00

Just for fun:

Oscar Post-Mortem

2008-02-26T16:58:00.003-05:00

Well, kids, it’s time for the Oscar post-mortem. As it turns out, my picks weren’t exactly “right on,” but I was still pleased by the outcome in every place I missed. Still, before we move on to look at the winners, and there were several, let’s look at the ceremony itself.

Jon Stewart did one hell of a job as host this year. He was funny, genial, and, best of all, he expressed a genuine interest and excitement in the awards that I think really connected with the audience or, at least, me. Particularly nice was Stewart’s clear joy at seeing Once take home best original song, even bringing the song’s co-writer back onto the stage after commercial to give the speech that she was tragically cut off from giving. Further, Stewarts monologue was funny, without being too jabby (although it did veer off into the purely political a bit much). His prepared video bits, while not as funny as his Homosexuality in Western Movies bit from a couple of years ago, were cute.

The clip reels were a bit of a disappointment on the whole, particularly the all to obviously CGI opening. The “In Memoriam” was nice, as always (hard to screw that up) and actually showcased a number of people whom I didn’t know were dead.

The musical numbers were good, if not great. Particularly odd was the cute as a button Amy Adams signing “Happy Working Song” – which she sang while starring in Enchanted - without any sort of production behind her, while Kristin Chenoweth (who wasn’t even in Enchanted) gets the full production value for a different song that Amy Adams originally sang.

Finally, the big surprise of the night, which I won’t really get into below, was the three Oscars won by The Bourne Ultimatum – sound editing, sound mixing, and editing. Admittedly, these aren’t seen as big deal awards, but, still, no one expected Bourne to take these.

And, since I mentioned it last time, my favorite dress for the night was the foxy number Renee Zellweger was wearing. I’m not normally a Renee guy, but, well, woof.

Now, let’s look at those winners.

ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE

Winner: Daniel Day-Lewis
Pick: Daniel Day-Lewis

Like I said, this was Daniel’s from the start. Way to go.

ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE

Winner: Javier Bardem
Pick: Javier Bardem

Again, there was little doubt that Javier was taking this home. Really, this would prove to be No Country for Old Men’s night and it’s fitting that this amazing performance, the anchor of the movie, was the first win of the night.

ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE

Winner: Marion Cotillard
Pick: Julie Christie

Marion Cotillard won for La Vie En Rose, a biopic about singer Edith Piaf. Now, I haven’t seen the movie, but it looks like Ms. Cotillard is very good in it. Worth noting: I didn’t see Julie Christie’s movie either.

ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE

Winner: Tilda Swinton
Pick: Cate Blanchette

This was my first big miss of the night and I couldn’t have been happier. Cate Blanchetter was the obvious pick in that she played a dude and Oscar loves that sort of thing. Still, Tilda Swinton ruled in Michael Clayton and I’m thrilled to see her win this.

ANIMATED FEATURE FILM

Winner: Ratatouille
Pick: Ratatouille

What? Like Surf’s Up was going to win.

CINEMATOGRAPHY

Winner: There Will Be Blood
Pick: No Country for Old Men

Poor Roger Deakins. After years of brilliant work behind the camera, he effectively cancelled himself out by shooting the two best looking movies of the year: No Country for Old Men and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Still, There Will Be Blood is a really good looking movie, too, so I won’t complain.

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY

Winner: No Country for Old Men
Pick: Atonement

Yeah for the Coen brothers. They’ve deserved an Oscar for years and now they have it. I was going against public opinion by guessing Atonement anyway and, frankly, the Coens really deserve this Oscar and I’m glad to see them get it.

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY

Winner: Juno
Pick: Juno

Diablo Cody takes home the Oscar for her first ever screenplay. I’ve noted that I thought she’d become immediately insufferable if she did win, but she gave one of the best, most heartfelt and emotional speeches of the night, so good for her. I look forward to seeing what else she’s got.

DIRECTING

Winner: No Country for Old Men
Pick: No Country for Old Men

No surprise here and another well deserved wins for the Coens. Can they win a third pair?

BEST PICTURE

Winner: No Country for Old Men
Pick: There Will Be Blood

Yes, they can. I didn’t think the academy would go for No Country as best picture, but they did and that’s great. This was the Coen’s year and it’s long overdue.

The Production Dude Picks the Oscars

2008-02-20T00:00:00.003-05:00

Alright, gang, The 80th Annual Academy Awards airs on Sunday night. That’s right, eighty years. Expect lots of clip reels celebrating “80 Years of Oscar” (God, I love clip reels). Meanwhile, Jon Stewart is back to host, so expect a lot of awkward responses from the audience, while I laugh my ass off. Robert Boyle, art director of 1987’s Dragnet will be getting an honorary Oscar.

Anyway, without further adieu, here are my picks (an * indicates that I didn’t see the damn movie).

ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE

Nominees: George Clooney (Michael Clayton), Daniel Day-Lewis (There Will Be Blood), Johnny Depp (Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street), Tommy Lee Jones (In the Valley of Elah*), Viggo Mortensen (Eastern Promises)

This is totally Daniel Day Lewis’ Oscar to lose. His portrayal of oil magnate Daniel Plainview is at once gripping and powerful. In some ways, it’s even reminiscent of Welles’ portrayal of Charles Foster Kane, albeit without much of the charm. Day Lewis definitely deserves the win here and I expect him to get it, not only for this film, but in silent recognition of his work in The Gangs of New York as well. The only other actor who has a chance is Clooney, whom Hollywood loves and who did win supporting actor last year – usually a good sign for a win the following year. Still, Clooney is a decided dark horse pick.

My Pick: Daniel Day Lewis

ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE

Casey Affleck (The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford), Javier Bardem (No Country for Old Men), Philip Seymour Hoffman (Charlie Wilson’s War*), Hal Holbrook (Into the Wild*), Tom Wilkinson (Michael Clayton)

A huge part of me would love to see this go to Casey Affleck, who really did turn in a spectacular performance as the titular coward, Robert Ford. That said, Javier Bardem came out of absolutely nowhere this year to turn in an amazing performance as Anton Chigurh, the bad guy in No Country for Old Men and, quite possibly, one of the finest screen villains of the past decade. Arguably, since so much of No Country is built around a character study of evil and how others deal with it – Chigurh (pronounced, more or less, Sugar) being that evil personified – this really should be a full-blown leading actor Oscar. Regardless, this is an immensely powerful performance and an easy win with Affleck alone offering competition as the darkest of horses. PS – Where’s the nominee for There Will Be Blood’s crazy preacher?

My Pick: Javier Bardem

ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE

Cate Blanchett (Elizabeth: The Golden Age*), Julie Christie (Away from Her*), Marion Cotillard (La Vie en Rose*), Laura Linney (The Savages*), Ellen Page (Juno)

This is always such a hard category to call, particularly in a year with no real stand-out performances. Don’t get me wrong, Ellen Page was phenomenal, but Oscar doesn’t like to award youth. Cate Blanchett is likewise out of the running since she’s going to win best supporting actress (more on that in a minute), so I’m giving it to Julie Christie. Why? Well, she won the Golden Globe, which in a year without a telecast probably means less than it usually does, and, I just plain like Julie Christie.

My Pick: Julie Christie

ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE

Cate Blanchett (I’m Not There*), Ruby Dee (American Gangster*), Saoirse Ronan (Atonement), Amy Ryan (Gone Baby Gone), Tilda Swinton (Michael Clayton)

As I said above, this is all Cate Blanchett. In I’m Not There, Cate is one of several actors to portray Bob Dylan and Oscar loves a woman playing a man. It’s as simple as that.

My Pick: Cate Blanchette

ANIMATED FEATURE FILM

Persepolis*, Ratatouille, Surf’s Up*

Surf’s Up? Really? Regardless, there can be no doubt that this is all Ratatouille.

My Pick: Ratatouille

CINEMATOGRAPHY

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Atonement, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly*, No Country for Old Men, There Will Be Blood

Woof. The cinematography is awesome in Jesse James and I’d like to see it win this award both for the beautiful photography by Roger Deakins and so that it wins something. That said, the cinematography in Atonement, No Country for Old Men, and There Will Be Blood is all awesome as well. Damn it. Of course, it’s worth noting that Deakins also shot No Country for Old Men, further confusing the issue. I expect the academy to award Deakins for one of these pictures, especially since he’s never won, despite having shot pictures like The Shawshank Redemption, but it’s really hard to say which. In that no one saw Jesse James, I’m giving it to No Country.

My Pick: No Country for Old Men

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY

Atonement, Away from Her*, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly*, No Country for Old Men, There Will Be Blood

There’re a lot of really good screenplays here. From what I hear, the screenplay for No Country is shockingly faithful, but here’s the thing: I don’t think Atonement is going to win much else (except, like, costume direction), despite taking the Golden Globe for best picture. As such, I think the Academy will give their big nod to Attonement here. If not, expect No Country to win since, you know, it deserves it. Also, There Will Be Blood could win. What can I say? It’s a tough year.

My Pick: Atonement

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY

Juno, Lars and the Real Girl, Michael Clayton, Ratatouille, The Savages*

I see Juno winning this one. Everybody likes this movie and that’s mostly due to the screenplay. Plus, I’m sure all of Hollywood wants to see what weird ass outfit Minneapolis native Diablo Cody will wear.

My Pick: Juno

DIRECTING

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly*, Juno, Michael Clayton, No Country for Old Men, There Will Be Blood

Now it gets really hard. It seems to me that big contenders for both directing and best picture are No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood. They’re both damn good movies with large critical followings, so I expect the academy to split directing and picture. The question is, which will win which. My guess is that the directing Oscar will go to No Country and auteur directors Joel and Ethan Coen. The Coen’s are long overdue for this Oscar and I’m guessing the academy will recognize that. Plus, it’s worth noting that Paul Thomas Anderson (There Will Be Bloods’ director) isn’t really a known directing entity yet (his previous film, Magnolia, is God awful – despite what respected critics and certain John Welshes think) and wasn’t even nominated for a directing Golden Globe.

My Pick: No Country for Old Men

BEST PICTURE

Atonement, Juno, Michael Clayton, No Country for Old Men, There Will Be Blood

If No Country for Old Men takes the Oscar for best directing, There Will Be Blood will take best picture, which is fine with me. It’s a damn good movie that, in some ways, reminds me of old school movie making and the work of Welles and Kubrick. Plus, it frankly has a much more traditional structure than No Country for Old Men and I think No Country’s odd form, while appealing to me, will turn off some voters. There is a dark horse here, though, in that I really think Juno could come out of nowhere and win this. It really depends on the academy. The problem as I see it is that, with the exception of Juno, this year’s best picture nominees just don’t seem to connect with audiences as past nominees have. Don’t get me wrong I like all of them except for Atonement, but here’s the thing – Atonement is kind of long and boring, There Will Be Blood is very popular with critics, but very divisive among average film goers, No Country has the aforementioned strange structure, the end of which, I think, really turns off some, and Michael Clayton is kind of an oddly paced thriller and a bit of a downer. Meanwhile, I don’t think any of this will really affect the academy, but it could and, if it does, Juno will come out of absolutely nowhere to win.

My Pick: There Will Be Blood

See you soon with The Dudies and next week with an Oscar wrap-up.

The Year That Wasn't

2008-02-15T19:30:00.018-05:00

Quickie Reviews from the Year I Was Away

Tideland – What the fuck was that? Tideland starts out pretty strong and remains interesting throughout, but never comes together as a cohesive whole. It does, however, invert Gilliam’s usual theme of exploring a person’s fantasy by almost never showing the fantasy world, but remaining firmly entrenched in reality as its characters experience fantasy within their own heads.

The Departed – Fan-freaking-tastic. This was Scorcese’s best picture in years and a movie that, for once, was truly deserving of Oscar. Great performances by everyone involved, especially, and surprisingly, Leonardo DiCaprio and Marky Mark. This one is a must see and another contender for eventual inclusion in the Top 100.

The Last King of Scotland – Come for Forrest Whitaker, sleep through the rest.

Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny – Nowhere near as kick ass as it should have been, the big screen debut of JB and KG ends up stealing heavily from the superior HBO series and catering far too much to an apparently absent (if one looks at ticket sales) stoner audience. That said, the first ten minutes or so – which reflect exactly what I wish the whole movie had been – is an amazing musical sequence featuring a young JB, Meatloaf and Ronny James Dio.

Sweetland – This was a fine and really pretty period piece produced in northern Minnesota. I don’t know how much play it got outside the state, but its certainly worth your while. Plus, the gaffer’s a friend of mine. Way to go, Greg!

Stranger Than Fiction – A fun and interesting metafiction.

The Prestige – This is a really amazing bit of business, focusing on two competing Victorian magicians. There are plenty of twists and turns in a film by Christopher Nolan and much of the Batman Begins cast and crew. Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman are great as the magicians and Michael Caine and David Bowie (as Nicola Telsa!) turn in great supporting performances. Apart from The Departed, this was easily my favorite movie of the year I never talked about and a strong contender for eventual inclusion in the Top 100.

Night at the Museum – A light entertainment buoyed by fun supporting characters that, unfortunately, doesn’t hold up well to repeat viewings – that is except for the scenes involving a miniature Owen Wilson, which are terrific. That said, I’m not sure what is more surprising: that this kid-friendly picture has yet to spin-off a Saturday morning animated version or that it was written by two members of MTV’s The State.

Man of the Year – Completely forgettable, although mildly notable for not at all being the film advertised in its trailers. This is less the story of a comedian becoming president than of voter machine error allowing the wrong man to become president.

Hollywoodland – I can’t believe I’m saying, but Ben Affleck was great in this story of the mystery of George “Superman” Reeve’s death. The one question never addressed: why was Lex Luthor never questioned?

The Fountain – The Fountain’s trailers seemed to promise an immortal story of one man’s centuries long quest for the love of a woman. What we get instead is a boring, pretentious mess of a picture that desperately wants to be the new 2001.

For Your Consideration – For your consideration: a man who has made a trio of very funny films suddenly fails miserably. I’m not sure if Christopher Guest was fated to make a crappy movie sooner or later, but, if he was, at least I’m glad that it’s finally out of the way.

Flags of Our Fathers – one of Eastwood’s duller movies

Fearless – What could have been a really cool spectacle of kung fu vs other prominent fighting styles (boxing, fencing, etc) wastes a lot of time on back story and something called Wu Shu – which I’m sure means something to kung fu fans, but not to me.

Eragon – You see, the title is just ‘dragon’ with an ‘e’ instead of a ‘d.’ The rest of the movie is just as clever.

Pan’s Labyrinth – With this picture Guillermo Del Torro, robbed at last year’s Oscars, proves beyond any doubt that he is one of the most interesting filmmakers today and the most interesting director the horror/fantasy genre has seen in a good twenty years. Now, bring on Hellboy 2!

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan – Funny and I’m glad Sasha Baron Cohen has decided to retire the character. Borat was on the brink of becoming the next Austin Powers: a once funny character diluted by overuse and all too repetitive catch phrases.

Casino Royale – The Bond franchise throws away Brosnan’s smirking hijinks for something far more brutal and worthwhile. Interestingly, the results are most similar to the oft despised Timothy Dalton films – strange that the aesthetic works so well with audiences now when it failed so miserably then (myself excluded – I happen to quite like Dalton’s Bond). All that said, I still say we need a different M than Judi Dench.

The Queen – While sadly, not about Freddy Mercury, this bio pic of Queen Elizabeth II really is terribly good. Helen Mirren is excellent and James Cromwell deserves a little more recognition for his portrayal of Prince Philip.

Children of Men – Really, really good. Go see it now.

Curse of the Golden Flower - Another disappointing kung fu picture, this one with much too little kung fu and entirely too much idiotic dialog, but, luckily, just enough cleavage.

Be sure to come back later this week first for my Oscar predictions and then for The 2007 Dudie Awards!

Remember, to be eligable for the coveted Burt Reynolds statuette, the movie has to have been released during 2007 and I have to have seen it in the theater. I did not, however, have to see it during 2007.

Speaking of all that, here are the films eligable for this year's Dudies: Ghost Rider, 300, The Last Mimzy, Blades of Glory, Grindhouse, The Host, Hot Fuzz, Spider-Man 3, The Bridge to Terrabithia, Shrek 3, Pirates of the Carribean 3: At World's End, Ratatouille, Knocked Up, 1408, Transformers, 28 Weeks Later, Meet the Robinsons, The Simpsons Movie, Live Free or Die Hard, The Ten, Fantastic Four 2: Rise of the Silver Surfer, Sunshine, Stardust, The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters, Balls of Fury, Resurrecting the Champ, The Nanny Diaries, Shoot 'Em Up, Superbad, Resident Evil Extinction, Eastern Promises, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, 30 Days of Night, The Darjeeling Limited, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Beowulf, 3:10 to Yuma, The Mist, The Golden Compass, I am Legend, Juno, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, Lars and the Real Girl, Gone, Baby, Gone, No Country for Old Men, Bee Movie, Attonement, Enchanted, and (should I have the time this week) Michael Clayton.

Cinematic Titanic

2008-02-13T02:12:00.003-05:00

Last night, I was privileged to attend the premier party for Cinematic Titanic, the newest venture from Mystery Science Theater 3000 alumni Joel Hodgson, Mary Jo Pehl, Frank Conniff, Josh Weinstein, and Trace Beaulieu. Of course, by privileged, I mean I was allowed to pay for a $20 ticket, but, still, how often do you see so many of your heroes live on the same stage? Trust me, twelve year-old Eric’s heart would have exploded and twenty-five year-old Eric’s nearly did.

Cinematic Titanic is basically the same idea as MST3k: four men and one woman (instead of one guy and a pair of puppets) stand or sit on scaffolds in front of a movie screen and make fun of a z-grade picture. In the case of the first, and so far only Cinematic Titanic that movie is The Oozing Skull, a tale of bizarre brain transplantation going horribly wrong (who’d have guessed). I’d already seen the DVD and it is pretty funny. It’s not quite up to the standards of MST classics, but it does show a lot of potential. Anyway, last night’s festivities kicked off with a screening of this first episode. I found myself laughing at jokes I’d already heard, always a good sign, and the crowd was in great spirits.

Then, as the movie reached its opening credits, something strange happened. The sound of riffing dimmed, only to be replaced by the voices of Dr. Clayton Forester and TV’s Frank. “Frank! What is this?” asked Forester.

“I don’t know, doctor,” Frank replied, “some sort of cheap knock-off?” Frank then “pushes the button,” ending the screening and allowing the entire crew to take the stage.

After a few introductions, Trace (formerly Dr. Forester and Crow T. Robot) took up MC chores, introducing each of his friends and their stand-up acts. Mary Jo was first with a cute and funny routine that focused on odd jobs, being an aunt, and, to my delight, the death of Supergirl in Crisis on Infinite Earths.

Frank was up next, noting that he was definitely in front of a sci-fi geek crowd when his question, “Are you ready for Valentine’s Day?” was met with boos. Frank then went onto a somewhat raunchy, but terribly funny set, before ending with a pair of songs: a Christian country western number titled “I Suck up to Jesus Because He Is My Boss” and the theme song to a made up adventure series called “Convoluted Man,” who, incidentally, drives a Convoluto-car, which he couldn’t afford himself, so his uncle co-signed the loan, but now Convoluted Man has to drive his uncle around on errands, like going to the dry cleaners or the grocery store, which he really kind of resents because he should be out there fighting crime… Convoluted Man!

Josh Weinstein then took the stage. Josh, for those of you not in the know, was the voice of Tom Servo for MST3k’s first Comedy Channel season and the KTMA years. He also played Frank’s predecessor, Dr. Larry Earnhardt. Josh’s set was also damn funny and taught me the benefits of an in-chest defibrillator, why I shouldn’t buy a chimp (I still want one anyway), and why he thinks it’s okay to shoot a rogue tiger.

Saving the best for last, Joel himself finally took the stage. Now, I’d seen Joel before on a couple of old HBO specials and – as you might have gathered from MST3k’s invention exchanges – Joel’s a prop comic. To see Joel perform, however, is to make you rethink prop comedy. Maybe there isn’t so much something wrong with prop comedy as there is something wrong with Carrot Top himself. At any rate, Joel’s set really, really killed. It was the perfect cap to an already hilarious night. Joel, with trademark deadpan delivery, presented a whole series of props and inventions, such as a Jack-in-the-Box that opens in the bottom, instead of the top, sending the poor clown on a suicidal fall. At one point during his act, Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls out a straw. “When I was a kid,” he says, blowing the paper off the end, “I used to play with this.” He then produces a leaf blower with a giant plastic sleeve fit over the tube. “But now,” he begins as he fires up the leaf blower, launching the sleeve into the back rows of the club, “I am a man.”

The evening wound down with a little Q&A and a live rendition of the MST theme song, plus the revelation that the entire crew would be back for a live Cinematic Titanic in October. Needless to say, I’ll be there.

That’s all for now. Check back on Monday for some movie reviews and, if you haven’t watched my new video yet, it’s right below. Check it out. It’s awesome.

100 Favorite Movies - Revised for 2008

2008-02-11T01:53:00.000-05:00

Hi everybody. I've been gone for awhile, but as part of my attempt to do a lot more writing, I'm going to try to revive this old blog. I learned a few things last time out, the first being not to try to blog every day. So, I'll just blog as I feel like it, although I'm going to try to post at least once a week and the content will remain mostly movie reviews, albeit smaller ones than I had been posting.

One other thing: I never finished my Top 100 list. Part of this was because I was getting exhausted with it and part was the realization that my list was changing as I wrote it and movies that at one time seemed like they had a home on the list didn't any more. Well, to make it up to everyone out there, I've put together this little six minute video, featuring clips of my 100 favorites, revised for 2008. Some are movies I've commented on before and some are not. Regardless, please to enjoy. And let's see if anyone can come up with all 100!

[note: I just posted the video to YouTube last night, so if it isn't working yet, just try back a little later]

You Only Live Twice

2006-11-02T13:50:00.000-05:00

James Bond is kind of an old man and at least a little older than most people think. Indeed, he first appeared in Ian Flemming’s Casino Royale in 1953 (that’s 53 years ago for those of you keeping score at home) and continued to appear in ten more Flemming novels before the first of the famous United Artists films, Dr. No, debuted in 1962. In just another week, the first of those novels finally becomes an official entry in the filmic Bond (a parody film called Casino Royal was made in the seventies with David Niven and was the featured story in a fifties episode of the TV series Climax!). My feelings on this one are a little mixed. Sure, it’s nice to see the last of Flemming’s unadapted novels finally make its way to the silver screen (I think the last Bond film based on a Flemming novel was A View to a Kill, although, I think, in name only), but I’m a little concerned about some of the turns the story has made on its way to a theater near me. I’ll get to that in a moment, though.

The fact of the matter is, although I only turned on to the movies in high school, I am a big James Bond fan. However, Bond has so many faces, that it’s hard to be a fan of every single facet of the character. Hell, it seems to me that it’s even hard to know every one of those faces. After all, Bond, to date, has twenty feature films from MGM, a handful of so-called “un-official” or even “apocryphal” films, the Flemming novels, novels written since Flemming’s death, video games, and even a cartoon series (James Bond, Jr anyone?). Some time ago, Umberto Eco, a novelist, postmodernist, and film theorist who I’m a big fan of, wrote an article that has had a big impact on how I think of not only James Bond, but any number of other long running characters, like Superman and Batman, for instance. That article is called The Moments of Bond. In the article, Eco dissects Bond’s long history, presenting us with a series of moments or time periods in which Bond existed in a particular way. The Bond of Flemming’s novels, which tend to be darker and more adult, is different from the somewhat family friendly, light hearted, Roger Moore Bond, who is different from Connery’s sophisticated adult (in the Playboy After Dark mold) Bond, who is different from Dalton’s dark, vengeful Bond, and so on. Though the article was published before his day, Brosnan seemed to me to be more of a teenage girl’s idea of Bond: safe, somewhat sophisticated, and just plain dreamy, and it will be particularly interesting to see how Daniel Craig’s moment as Bond is ultimately defined. That said, I think Bond is character of such diversity of portrayal that he has had a moment to everyone’s taste as well as moments to everyone’s distain. For my part, while I do like their movies to some degree, I am not a huge fan of either the Brosnan or Moore James Bonds (although I do really like Live and Let Die, The Man with the Golden Gun, For Your Eyes Only, and, to my shame, The World Is Not Enough, hell, I like every Bond movie to some degree). I do, however, adore Connery’s Bond. His cool attitude, quick wit, suave sensibility, and raw machismo are much more to my ideas of who Bond should be. Yet, I think that Bond is very much a Bond of his time. I don’t believe Connery’s Bond can truly exist out of the sixties. As I implied before, that Bond has the sensibility of vintage Playboy, back when Playboy was an ethos that including publishing Fahrenheit 451 in its pages, and simply cannot exist today. So, my alternative Bond is the darker Bond, adult in a different way. I like Dalton’s Bond a lot. I like his violence and his brooding. I like the ideas of a Bond driven by things from his past, like the death of his wife or the crippling of his friend, Felix Lighter. This Bond is the consummate agent. He has his vices and he is still suave, but beneath that he’s a man who does a sometimes dirty job on her majesty’s secret service.

That brings me to the best Bond I’ve seen in years and he doesn’t appear on the screen or in the pages of a novel, but, rather, the pages of a comic book, specifically James Bond 007: Permission to Die by Mike Grell. I’m a huge fan of Grell and, in particular, his comic book series Jon Sable: Freelance, about a freelance assassin. That series featured a sometimes brooding lead with real character depth as well as some fantastic action set pieces, particularly a story set at the Olympic games. Reading it, I couldn’t help but think that Grell had crafted a character who could easily rival, if not outdo, Bond at his own game. So, when I found Grell’s take on 007 at a recent comic book convention, I was very excited. Permission to Die focuses on Bond’s mission to reunite Doctor Erik Wiziadio, a Russian scientist who had successfully fled to the US some years earlier, with his niece Edaine. Should Bond be successful, Wiziadio will share his new space missile delivery system with England. The three issues of Permission to Die join together to tell that larger story, but Permission to Die is a true comic book in that each issue also can be read as a self contained mission, with all three combining under the larger plot. The first issue details Bond’s travel to Budapest, where he is to smuggle Edaine across the border. This is, of course, the same setting as From Russia with Love, the best of the Bond films, and Grell takes full advantage of this, setting much of the action in a familiar gypsy camp and uniting Bond with Luludi Bey, the gorgeous daughter of Kerim Bey, Bond’s friend and contact from that film. The first issue deals mainly with a traitor in the gypsy camp. The second issue is probably the most action packed, featuring the actual rescue of Edaine amidst a thrilling assault on a Russian train, complete with helicopter fight. At the same time, Bond gets a new opponent for this issue only, an assassin named the Wolf. Finally, in issue three, Bond reunites Dr. Wiziadio and Edaine, while trading in Luludi for a whole new set of Bond girls (indeed, each issue can be seen as having its own set of Bond girls and villains, with Edaine acting more as the Bond girl in issue two), Sulu and Mary Chase (cute pun). Of course, this issue needs its villain and that turns out to be Wiziadio, who wears a phantom of the opera mask and is not at all what he seems, nor, for that matter, is his relationship with Edaine or his missile delivery system. Overall, it’s a really nice mini-series that captures a darker, more adult Bond, in the vein of the novels and the Dalton films, which I quite like. It’s darker, more realistic, and more action packed than the relatively fluffy Brosnan Bonds and, while it’s serial nature would make it a difficult sell for a film, it’s definitely recommended to fans of Bond, Jon Sable, and Mike Grell.

Sadly, aside from an adaptation of License to Kill, Grell never returned to Bond. Hell, it took him more than two years to get these three issues out. Further, Permission to Die wrapped up back in 1991 and the dark moment of Bond passed out of memory in favor of the teen and video game friendly Brosnan. Of course, it looks like that moment is passing as well, with Casino Royal, with new Bond Daniel Craig, set to come out this month. So, what do I think of it? Frankly, I’m torn. I think the idea of flashing back to Bond’s first adventure is a smart idea and may well serve to reinvigorate a franchise which has frankly grown a little stale. Still, I’m a little worried about how they’ve chosen to go about it. It seems to me that if you are going to do a flashback movie, you should do it as a period piece. I understand the reluctance of the producers to actually set the thing in the sixties or even fifties as they’ve always tried to make Bond of an indeterminate age, but I would think you could craft a world that existed vaguely in Bond’s past, in a sort of place out of time with lots of vintage style, but nothing to say explicitly when it is, sort of a dream of a time rather than an actual time. However, it doesn’t look like that’s their plan. Instead, it looks like they’re setting the film firmly in 2007, which is certainly a valid choice, but I’m concerned about throwing out the character’s rich history or, at least, confusing it so completely. By the same token, I don’t like the return of Judi Dench as M. Not only have I never liked Dench in the role, but it just seems strange to do such a full reboot of Bond and not recast that part. It wouldn’t even have to be a man, although maybe it should, just not Dench. After all, this is a woman who’s clearly not the first M Bond has dealt with, GoldenEye makes that clear. So, again, if you’re doing a flashback movie, why not embrace that completely? I have the same concerns with the casting of a black Felix Lighter, Bond’s American counterpart. Again, while Felix has been played by several actors over the years, he’s always been white. I don’t have any problem with giving Bond a black contact, but then it seems like you’d be better off making him a unique character.

Ultimately, I think Casino Royale had and has a lot of potential. I’m certainly excited to see it and the most recent trailer is really kick ass. I think, though, that the true potential lies with the film being one of two movies: an early adventure of the same basic character we’ve been enjoying for the past forty years or a completely new start with as little to do with the previous films as Coppola’s Dracula film had to do with the old Universal Dracula movies. Either of these could have made for a great film. Unfortunately, it appears we’ll get neither.

Scariest Movie Moments?

2006-10-22T15:15:00.000-04:00

This past Friday, Bravo, the increasingly gay channel, debuted the two part special 30 Even Scarier Movie Moments, a follow up to The 100 Scariest Movie Moments special they aired a couple of years ago. That initial special, while occasionally wonky in its rankings, they did call Jaws the scariest movie of all time, for example, was spectacular. I don’t usually go in for these 100 Greatest lists. They usually seem arbitrary and entirely populist and tend to be more about their cute VH1 style talking head celebrities than about the supposed subject of the list. The 100 Scariest Movie Moments, however, was a different animal entirely. While there were a few talking head celebrities involved, including the always sexy Jennifer Tilly, Dave Navaro, and brilliant directors Peter Jackson, John Carpenter, and John Landis, these celebrities were actually pretty articulate on the subject. Further, a number of critics and academics, mostly of the obscure variety, were invited to participate as well, giving the entire special a rather unusual feeling of import. What really made that special great, though, was the actual content of the list. True, there were a number of popular, well worn horror movies, everything from Friday the 13th to Child’s Play, but where the list really shined was in exposing the viewer, myself included, to a number of obscure titles and filmmakers I likely never would have found otherwise. In the couple of years since I first saw that special, I have made it a point to track down many of the movies featured there and many of those have become some of my favorite movies of all time, movies like Suspiria, Black Sunday and the work of Mario Bava in general, whom I’d never heard of before this special, Don’t Look Now, Dawn of the Dead, Hellraiser, and The Wicker Man. There are even several films, like Phantasm, Peeping Tom, and Blood and Black Lace, which I haven’t had the chance to see yet, but desperately want to. The rest of the list meanwhile, is practically a who’s who of classic horror: Creepshow, Cat People, The Birds, Night of the Hunter, Dracula, Evil Dead, Re-Animator, Marathon Man, An American Werewolf in London, Nosferatu, The Thing, The Others, Wait Until Dark, The Exorcist, and Rosemary’s Baby.

So, I was really eager to turn on 30 Even Scarier Movie Moments. Sure, it would only be one-third as long, but chances were it would still alert me to some fantastic and obscure horror films, while taking me on a walk down memory lane with some more well worn classics. Sadly, this wasn’t the case. Oh, there were a couple of great films I already knew about, Videodrome and The Stepford Wives among them, but, by and large, this was a countdown of only the recent, uninspired crop of modern Hollywood horror movies, like Hostel, Saw, Saw II, and Red Eye as well as a pair of remakes of films that appeared on the original list, the new Dawn of the Dead and Cape Fear. There weren’t any movies I hadn’t heard of and not one I wanted to watch. Further, the clear intelligence and passion for the genre apparent in the original special was all gone, replaced by vacuous talking heads in the form of marginal stars of the featured films as well as some truly irritating screenwriters and directors, particularly the insufferable Eli Roth, director of Hostel and Cabin Fever and pretty boy who practically scream poser. Oh well, there’s still time this weekend to go rent Phantasm.

Elephants, Snakes, and CHUDs? Oh, my!

2006-09-11T12:57:00.000-04:00

The Descent
Neil Marshall, 2005

The Descent is a movie about eight women, their lives, their loves, the memories, and their attempt to spelunk a cave no man has ever spelunked before. Our characters are a dazzling mix of fascinating types, like the one whose husband and daughter just died and is having trouble moving on, the buff one, the two maybe lesbian ones, the one who implicitly trusts the buff one and lives, or doesn’t, to regret it, and the rest. The movie doesn’t waste much time before they’re all crawling around in a cave. It’s dark, it’s scary, and it’s moody as Hell. Really, the filmmakers do one Hell of a job making this the claustrophobic suspense fest you’d hope it would be. Our heroines deal with your standard spelunking issues, you know, getting lost, getting stuck in a crevice, almost dying in a cave in, and one of them falling far enough to break her leg such that the bone sticks out (and they show it)! Then things take a turn. The girls start to hear things. They start seeing things too. Yep, you guessed it, the cave’s full of mutated, inbred, cannibalistic, humanoid underground dwellers. From here on out, it’s a slaughter fest as the CHUDs, who look like Gollum’s brother, who spends a lot of time at the gym, eat a couple of girls and then get their asses kicked by a couple of more. The girls fight, the girls die, and some of them begin a metaphorical, emotional descent once they realize what the audience realized in the first five minutes: that the buff one slept with their dead husband (before he died, natch’). It’s good, suspenseful stuff, that even includes the biggest pool of blood this side of the first Evil Dead. Still, it all might have worked better without the CHUDs.

Rating: Decent.

The Protector
Prachya Pinkaew, 2005

If you’re like me, and I know I am, you’ve spent the last several years of your life wondering what it would be like if some ad wizard managed to forcefully mate Operation: Dumbo Drop with Rumble in the Bronx. Thankfully, Thai filmmaker, whose work I’ve never seen, has teamed with Tony Jaa, the action sensation that’s sweeping the Thai nation, and whose work I’ve also never seen, have teamed up to do just that with The Protector. Tony is the epynonomous protector, whose family has raised and protected elephants for generations. Unfortunately, Tony is pretty shitty at his job and, of the three elephants he’s charged to protect, one, the mommy, gets shot by poachers or something. Way to go, Tony. Still, Tony and Tony’s Grandpa decide to take their leftovers to town and display them for the Thai king. You see, the whole point of raising and protecting these pachyderms is so that the king can have the perfect elephant to ride into battle, thus imbuing him with the spiritual power of the elephant. Don’t worry, if you actually see the movie, it still doesn’t make any sense. Anyway, some goons for the Generic Asian Mafia stand in for the king’s dudes and steal Tony’s elephants and shoot his grandfather. Way to protect, Tony! After a couple of random fight scenes, Tony follows his elephants to Sydney, Australia, where a dragon lady type has the elephants in hopes of gaining their special elephant powers or whatever. Tony runs around and gets to shout, “Where the Hell are my elephants?” a couple of times and gets into random fights with the police, a group of extreme sports enthusiasts, the patrons and guards of a suspiciously huge, four story VIP dining room behind a one story restaurant, and a big beefy guy who could give the Rick Flair a run for his money. In the end, Tony finds his elephants, but with a confusing twist, and beats up some more people with the sort of chop sockey you’d expect. Random is the name of the game for The Protector, a movie where nothing is connected and the plot makes only as much sense as it absolutely has to. Oh, and there’s a B story about police corruption in Sydney. Or something.

Rating: Elephants? Really?

Snakes on a Plane
David R. Ellis, 2006

I’m thrilled to say that Snakes on a Plane stands in the proud tradition Re-Animator and Evil Dead 2, B horror movies that know exactly what they are and intend to not take themselves too seriously. Of course, Snakes on a Plane takes this to a certain post modern extreme, but I won’t get into that too much here. What is important is that, for the first time anywhere, we have mother fucking snakes on a mother fucking plane. Really, it’s all Sean’s fault. You see, Sean was out BMXing on the Hawaiian islands when he saw his friendly neighborhood Asian drug lord playing piñata with some dude, by which I mean using the dude as a piñata. Anyway, this would tend to incriminate said drug lord, so he sends henchmen to kill Sean, but Sean is saved at the last second by Samuel L. Jackson. Sam convinces Sean to testify and its on a plane headed for the mainland. Of course, the drug lord can hardly let this sort of thing slip and so, instead of doing something sensible, like blowing up the plane or sending goons after Sean, he fills the plane full of poisonous snakes all hopped up on the goofballs. From here on out, everything you’d wish would happen in a movie called Snakes on a Plane happens. First off, you see every snake from Black Mamba to Anaconda going to town on the passengers. You get your standard assortment of stereotypical flight attendants, including the slutty one, the gay one, the one who’s only a few days away from retirement, and the sensible Karen Black-type one in Julianna Margulies, who spends most of the film saying to herself, “How the Hell did I end up in this movie?” Anyway, what else happens? Oh, an anaconda eats a guy whole. Snakes fall out of the ceiling with the air masks. Someone joins the mile high club. Someone gets killed by snakes while joining the mile high club. A world kickboxing champion just happens to be a passenger and saves a woman. A dog gets eaten. There’s a womanizing co-pilot who tries to fly the plane with an arm the size of a beach ball. A snake bites a boob. A snake bites a wiener. All this and trademark blaction from Samuel L. What more could you want?

Rating: Mother fucking snakes on a mother fucking plane!

I Love You, Ricky Bobby

2006-08-08T14:03:00.000-04:00

From the All Jacked Up on Mountain Dew Department

Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby
Adam McKay, 2006

Dear tiny little eight pound, six ounce Jesus, I want to thank you for giving us Ricky Bobby. Talladega Nights is everything I hoped it could be. It’s a really solid comedy with some fantastic bits, particularly ones involving vulgar children, a knife in the leg, and invisible fire, and hilarious performances from Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly (who has previously starred in The Hours, Chicago, Gangs of New York, and The Aviator – four best picture nominees) and Michael Clark Duncan (who has previously starred in The Green Mile, Daredevil, Armageddon, The Scorpion King, and Planet of the Apes – one best picture nominee and four turdburgers). Unlike Anchorman, which I though was incredibly uneven, Talladega Nights (which, by the way, is a title I’m already having trouble remembering and will almost certainly take to calling Ricky Bobby) is pretty consistent, which is great. There are a lot fewer cameos here and a lot fewer unrelated segments. There is also a little less going on as far as total absurdist comedy, which is a bit of a disappointment, but it does make the movie work better. I don’t have any doubt that this will be this generation’s Billy Madison or at least it’s Happy Gilmore.

Rating: Funny Stuff

From the Fixer-Upper Department

Monster House
Gil Kenan, 2006

Going into Monster House, you expect the film to be a bit like Snakes on a Plane, with the title telling you everything you need to know. What’s Monster House about? A monster house. Next. What’s surprising, though, is how much mileage the film gets out of the concept. This is due in no small part to what is really exceptionally clever writing, especially for a children’s/family film in this day and age. The movie doesn’t pander or pull punches, but offers some genuine scares and even humor, making it the perfect introduction to the world of horror for the Disney Channel set and an amusing diversion for older viewers. Anyway, the film follows DJ, your typical just outside of popular kiddie protagonist and his friend Chowder, who is, admittedly, a little like Chunk warmed over, but without the Truffle Shuffle. Well, DJ lives across the street from an old dude who doesn’t like kids on his lawn and has spent the last few decades taking away kites, trikes, ikes, and mikes from poor little kids. Soon enough, DJ intrudes on the old man’s lawn and the old man has a fit, resulting in a heart attack or something and he falls dead on top of DJ. After this, the house goes berserk, taking on any number of human characteristics and using its rug tongue to snatch up any number of victims. DJ and Chowder team up with a prep school girl to take on the house, which they of course assume is possessed by the now dead old man. And if that were all there was to the movie, it would be serviceable, although nothing special. Luckily, the film adds some nice humor and character bits as well as an excellent, sympathetic twist regarding the secret origin of the house that really bumps it up to the next level. It’s good stuff and, I think, would make a fine double feature with Goonies for a lazy Saturday afternoon.

Rating: Scary Good

From the Topless Vampire Department

Lifeforce
Tobe Hooper, 1985

Naked space she vampires. You heard me. Naked space she vampires. That right there is pretty much what Lifeforce is all about. Director Tobe Hooper leaves the backwoods terror of his first big hit, the immortal Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and takes us into space onboard the space shuttle Churchill. You see, the crew of the Churchill has been charged with giving Haley’s Comet the once over, but, when they tool out to deep space, they find a two mile long alien zucchini in the comet’s tale. Just like you would expect, the astronauts, led by Colonel Tom, board the zucchini. On board are a bunch of floating, dead bat dudes and three naked humanoids in Tupperware containers. The lead humanoid is the very busty and very naked Mathilda May. Well, our intrepid astronauts bring the hot chick back to their shuttle because, well, who wouldn’t. Cut to a few weeks later as the shuttle coasts into Earth orbit, with everyone on board, except Mathilda, burnt to a crisp. Once the rescue astronauts see everyone is dead but that a busty chick and her two boy toys (all still fresh sealed) are still alive they use logic to reach the conclusion that the busty alien chick probably fried ‘em all. Wait, what am I saying, of course they don’t! They get one look at Ms May’s giant Mathildas and cart her back to earth, where she quickly French kisses a British doctor to death, turning him into Brit jerky. Mathilda runs around the compound naked for awhile while Mr. Jerky actually comes back to life and French kisses another dude to death. Are you getting the vampire part now? While the whole pseudo-vampire plague starts to sweep London, Col. Tom crashes back to Earth in an escape pod and hooks up with Col. Caine (some British guy and not, as you’d hope, Lloyd Bridges reprising his awesome Battlestar Galactica role) to go searching for Mathilda, because why wouldn’t you? One thing leads to another and Mathilda possess a busty Irish chick (alright) and Patrick Stewart (oh no) before her plan to kill/turn into vampires everyone in London reaches it’s peak and she and Col. Tom bump uglies in a church basement. All of this with a score by Henry Mancini.

Rating: Sucks

Cars Crashes

2006-07-31T23:04:00.000-04:00

From the Automotive Department

Cars
John Lasseter and Joe Ranft, 2006

Cars sucked. It really, really sucked and it became the first film since 2000’s Center Stage that I walked out on. Mind you, Cars isn’t that aggressively bad. I was just bored. Worse, the movie so clearly telegraphs it’s ending, practically from the first moments, that there is no reason for you to stay. You know damn well what will happen and, unfortunately, the characters aren’t interesting enough to make you care how they get there. Worse, the jokes are so tired and cliched that there is nary a laugh in the whole thing.

Of course, this is the movie about the anthropomorphic cars, which, sadly, do not turn into robots, led by Lightning McQueen (voiced by Owen Wilson), a cocky race car. Normally, I kind of like Owen Wilson (see The Royal Tenenbaums), but, here, his character is just insufferably cocky. The rest of the cast is largely okay, though, featuring luminaries like Paul Newman, Tony Shalhoub, Bonnie Hunt, and George Carlin, alongside the intolerable Larry the Cable Guy. Anyway, McQueen’s cockiness makes him tie with two other cars in the big race and, on the way to the tie breaker, he gets lost in a hole in the wall town, which is apparently the storage garage for tired animation clichés. As you’d expect McQueen gets roped into staying in town until he learns his lesson from the simple townsfolk. Yawn.

Strangely, the best part of the movie was the unexpected cameo by the Car Talk guys. Yes, the jovial NPR hosts and real life brothers costar as McQueen’s sponsors, cracking the same sort of shambling jokes and oversized gafaws they do over the air every weekend and even reminding us, “Don’t drive like my brother!” It’s odd, unexpected, and for an unadvertised cameo, a little underwhelming, but, trust me, this is the best this film’s got, making it Pixar’s first real loser of a movie.

Rating: Stalled

From the Pier One Department

The Wicker Man
Robin Hardy, 1973

This is one of those cult horror films that, if you’re me, you’ve heard a lot about, but you’ve never seen. Well, now I’ve seen it and it’s pretty damn good, if overly British. Edward Woodward (Breaker Morant) stars as Sgt. Howie, a British police detective who sea planes it out to Summerisle, a private island, complete with weird little village (think Twin Peaks on steroids... and British). Howie has flown out here in search of a girl who has gone missing. Of course, when he gets there, the villagers have no intention of copping to even the girl’s existence. Jerks. Well, Howie hangs around town, talking to the missing girl’s mother and sister, who have also never heard of her, and getting way to upset about a raunchy bar song. You see, a major point of the film is that our pal Howie is a christian and (gasp) a virgin and he doesn’t cotton to the hedonistic goings on around him, which include a nocturnal, outdoors orgy and Britt Ekland doing her best crazy lady naked dance in the next room, while tapping on the walls and trying to get Howie to come over for what Spider-man once taught me was called “bad touching.” Anyway, reluctantly moving away from naked Britt Ekland, Howie hangs around for a few days and manages to figure out that the girl is dead and burried. He confronts Lord Summerisle about this, a very cooky Christopher Lee in what is probably one of his best non-Dracula performances, and quickly finds out that the whole island is working on a weird pagan religious cult sort of thing that’s going to come to a head on May Day. After this, the plot takes a couple of welcome and unexpected twists that I won’t spoil here.

So, yeah, despite Christopher Lee being all cooky (he’s even in drag at one point) and naked Britt Ekland (did I mention she’s naked?) the plot is a bit of a horror stock plot. What knocks this sucker up to eleven, though, is the really weird mood this movie goes well out of it’s way to create. The thing is shot really artfully and with a nice leisurely pace. The colors are appropriately muted, giving the island a slight otherworldly quality. This is only further emphasized by the unusual score, consisting of some very weird, and very seventies folk stylings. It’s doing some very different things, but in this way, the film is a bit like Picnic at Hanging Rock. At any rate, it’s weird, it’s cooky, it’s a little thought provoking, and well worth your time, although I’m going to have to suggest avoiding the upcoming Nicolas Cage remake.

Rating: Seriously, did I mention that Britt Ekland dances around naked?

From the Let’s Get All Excited Department

Well, sports fans, it looks like Snakes on a Plane is not longer my most anticipated movie. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still going to be awesome, but something has supplanted it, something that, when it hits, is going to rock your socks off. That’s right, I’m talking Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny. I couldn’t be more excited about JB and KG hitting the big screen together. The question one has to ask when looking at a movie featuring the D is, of course, not “Will it be fucking sweet?” but “How fucking sweet will it be?” The answer, by all indications, is pretty fucking sweet. I heard some of the songs the other day, and they, of course, rock. Keep in mind, too, that this is pretty much going to be a rock opera of the sort not seen on the American screen in far too long and it features, best of all, in his first rock opera in, like, thirty years, the great Meatloaf as JB’s dad. Do JB and the Loaf have a duet? Yes they do and I think I can guarantee that it will be Loaf’s best duet since Paradise on the Dashboard Lights. Ain’t no doubt about it. So, obviously, I’m pretty psyched. Can’t wait for November.

From the My Way or the Highway Department

Road House
Rowdy Herrington, 1989

Believe it or not, I’ve lived some twenty-three years on this earth and had never seen Road House. I know what you’re thinking, how lucky am I? Well, pretty lucky. Unfortunately, that all came to an end last night. First off, let me say that Road House is a hopelessly stupid movie about the world’s second most famous bouncer, Patrick Swayze in the role of Dalton. Dalton, aside from being bouncer numero dos, also holds a degree in philosophy. Of course, the whole idea of a world’s most famous bouncer is pretty stupid, let alone second most famous, but that doesn’t stop Mr. Dirty Dancing. Anyway, Dalton gets hired by the guy from Emergency! to clean up a rat hole bar, which inexplicably features as it’s only ever musical act a blind guitarist, who isn’t even black. In fact, now that I think about it, despite this film being hopelessly southern, there’s all of one black guy on screen for all of four seconds. Weird. Anyway, Dalton roles into town and, shock of shocks, ruffles feathers. Soon enough, the local rich dude takes advantage of the town’s apparent complete lack of police protection to blow up Dalton’s girl friend’s uncle’s auto parts store and then, no kidding, has a monster truck drive through Dalton’s pal’s used car dealership... in broad daylight. Where are the police? Luckily, Dalton’s pal and world’s most famous bouncer Sam Eliot (settle down, Grandma) shows up and... well doesn’t accomplish much. In fact, he gets killed. So, Dalton has to throw down with the guy what killed his mentor in a fight scene that includes the bad guy actually saying, “I used to fuck guys like you in prison.” What? Of course, everything turns out okay for Dalton and his (still living) friends and the world is once again safe for bar fights.

So, yeah, it’s pretty much a total stink burger of a movie without anything but it’s own idiocy going for it. Normally, I’d never have put this in. Patrick Swayze is, after all, reason enough to avoid any movie. So, why? Well, former Mystery Science Theater 3000 head writer and star Michael J. Nelson has embarked on a new enterprise: Rifftrax (www.rifftrax.com). You see, Mike’s done something that a lot of people have been talking about, but which no one has done: he’s started recording audio commentary tracks for whatever movie he damn well pleases and posting them on-line. Of course, this means that you have to rent the movie (or if it’s Road House, wait for it’s twice daily Starz showing) and synch up the track on your computer or CD player. No big, though. Anyway, I was hoping for a more straightforward sort of track from Mike about the movie, much like he seems to do when he speaks at colleges. What he does instead is pretty much the MST shtick of making comments at and about the movie, only all by himself. I have to admit to being a little leery about this, but Mike more than pulls it off. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say that this Road House commentary stands up against MST’s best years. Very funny stuff and highly recommended. As for watching Road House on it’s own, you probably shouldn’t. If you have to, though, please avoid heavy machinery for an hour or so afterwards.

From the Where Does He Get Those Marvelous Toys Department

Well, it’s official. Warner Brothers has announced the man playing the Joker in The Dark Knight, the upcoming sequel to Batman Begins. That man is Heath Ledger. What? Yes, kids, it’s officially true, Brokeback Mountain himself is going to be the Joker. I can’t say I see him in the role, but Batman Begins was so good, I’m going to trust in the filmmakers on this one. Don’t let me down boys.

Here Comes Randal. He's a Berserker.

2006-07-23T16:02:00.000-04:00

From the Recently Seen Department

Clerks II
Kevin Smith, 2006

I didn’t expect to like this movie. In fact, I pretty much went into the theater prepared to hate it. Still, I really like Clerks and I love the short lived Clerks animated series, plus Randal Graves is one of my all time favorite screen characters, so my curiosity got the better of me. So, is Randal back? Yes, my friends, he is. Both he and Dante return to the film world in full force, here. Just as with Clerks, there are any number of brilliant comedic diatribes here, most of which I found myself laughing embarrassingly hard at. Further, this time out, Smith has also tempered his often scatological humor with several moments of authentic emotional weight. This is less a film about slackers than a film about what happens when slackers grow up. They’re still funny, they’re still lazy, and they have the same crazy conversations, but they also find themselves having to stand up and face the world around them. Mind you, this plan could easily backfire and become far to maudlin and disengenuine, but Smith (who’s skills have always been in his writing) provides the perfect mix of comedy and emotion here, easily sidestepping almost every potential problem you’d expect a Clerks sequel to have.

Rating: Berserker

A Scanner Darkly
Richard Linklater, 2006

Now, this, I expected to like. From the trailers, this looked like it would be a really interesting movie. Not only did it promise some excellent, semi-futuristic, sci-fi noir, it showed a truly interesting visual style, achieved, as with Linklater’s Waking Life, by means of rotoscope animation (filming live actors moving around and acting and then drawing over them). Unfortunately, the film didn’t deliver at all. Instead of offering a clear, interesting vision, all Scanner has is a confusing, convoluted plot, further hampered by an unusually poor performance from Keanu Reeves, which is really saying something. Sure, there are a couple of fun supporting performances, but I was bored as hell after the novelty of the animation wore off. I really should have just stayed home and watched Scanners. Then, at least, I’d have seen some heads ‘sploding.

Rating: Sleepy

From the I Can’t Wait Department

Bride of Re-Animator
Brian Yuzna, 1990

That’s right, baby, they made a sequel to Re-Animator. The original cast returns, including the decapitated head, in an attempt to make a woman from scratch. As soon as I can find a copy, I’m there. After that, I’m sure I’ll be chomping at the bit for the third Herbert West feature, Beyond Re-Animator, as old Herbie takes his act to a prison. Awesome.

A Man of Steel, a Pirate, and a Crack Whore

2006-07-10T00:19:00.000-04:00

Over in the Recently Seen Department

Superman Returns
Bryan Singer, 2006

The title says it all: Superman returns. After an absense of almost twenty years (twenty-six if we only count the good movies), the man of steel has returned to the silver screen and in grand form. Everything works here, from direction to cinematography to acting to plot to dialog to the resurrection of Marlon Brando and of John William’s perfect score. This time out, Brandon Routh takes over as the last son of Krypton from the very dead Christopher Reeve, whom the film is touchingly dedicated to. Routh is exceptional. He perfectly channel’s Reeve’s Superman (after all, this is an “unofficial” sequel to Superman II), while still making the part his own. The perforrmance is at once soulful and powerful and certainly better than any of us expected. Kevin Spacey, meanwhile, takes over for the not quite dead Gene Hackman as Lex Luthor. Spacey takes the wonderful haminess of Hackman’s Luthor and ratches it up by adding some real menace for a fantastic villain. The cast is rounded out by Kate Bosworth, capably and much more prettily taking over as Lois Lane from the also not dead Margot Kidder, James “Cyclops” Marsden continuing his strangle hold on wussy boyfriend roles as Richard White, Eve “Incredibly hot in North by Northwest” Marie Saint is Martha Kent, and Frank “Skeletor” Langella as Perry White. I’d also like to give a shout out to Parker Posey as Kitty Kowalski, comic relief sidekick to Lex Luthor and replacement for Miss Tesmacher. Posey is fun, funny, and just cute as a button (call me!) here.

Wonderfully, the whole film just works. I don’t like it quite as much as Superman: The Movie. It’s missing the same epic scope and series of inspiring moments and rescues (although the airplane rescue does kick total ass), but, given the more personal nature of this outing, that’s okay. In any case, it’s better than Superman II, which, while cool (Zod rocks), never quite comes together for me. It’s also lightyears better than Suprman IV: The Quest for Peace or Superman III: The Quest for Richard Pryor.

Rating: Super

Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man’s Chest
Gore Verbinski, 2006

Okay, so the first Pirates comes out and I go, thinking, well, this is gonna suck and then, surprisingly, not so much. In fact, pretty good. So, then, this one comes out and I think, yeah, I liked the first one, but, come on, this looks kind of lame and then, well, it is. Don’t get me wrong, there’s some cool stuff here, including a rightly hyped swordfight in the third act and Johnny Depp continuing to present a kooky, corrupt anti-hero with Captain Jack Sparrow, but the rest of the movie just isn’t there. The plot is strained, especially over two and a half hours (and this is the guy who doesn’t think Lawrence of Arabia is long enough, and what plot is there never quite makes enough sense. Worse are the supporting characters. Orlando Bloom is back as would be swashbuckler Will Turner with Keira Knightly and Ever So Rightly returning as Elizabeth Swan. Neither one of them are characters, but, instead, two dimensional, wide eyed plot devices, complimented by the breeziest of performances. Still, the real stinker is the film’s choice of villian. This time, instead of nutty, undead Geoffery Rush, we get short Monkee Davy Jones. Wait, sorry, different Davy Jones. This one’s a crusty squid-dude. Now, when I saw pictures of this squid dude, what with is one starfish leg and giant crab hand, I said to myself LAME and, guess what, LAME. He and his whole crew are just so LAME. The stuff that centers around Depp is all pretty servicable, but Davy Jones just looks stupid, and so does his equally hodgepodge crew. The simple skeletons worked great last time, but these guys are just over complicated, unconvincing CGI effects. Boo. Still, it’s worth seeing, I suppose, but don’t bust your ass to get over there. Of course, there will be a third installment, as we all probably know by now and, actually, given the way this one ends, I’m much more excited about that movie.

Rating: uh

Strangers with Candy
Paul Dinello, 2005

I featured this one last time in my can’t wait section. Well, at last, after almost two whole weeks of waiting, I saw the movie. It was hilarious. There were several times I was doubled over, thanks the absolute absurdity of the whole affair. The cast is perfect and the jokes spot on. Amy Sedaris plays Jerri Blank, a grotesque 46 year-old ex-crack whore who returns to high school as a freshman. Jerri is unapologetically morally corupt throughout the whole film and is a frequent joy to watch as she bumbles from one social situation to the next. Stephen Colbert, of the Colbert Report, and Paul Dinello co-star as two of her teachers, who have just broken up their gay affair. As Colbert says, “I wasn’t pushing you away from me. I was pulling me closer to myself.” Greg Holliman is also hilarious as the very black Principal Onyx Blackman, who, after being rebuffed in offering a school board member a drink in his office during school hours, asks her if she would like to handle his fire arm. The whole movie is weird and surreal and definitely worth your time.

Rating: Damn funny

Over in the Where Have You Been All My Life Department

Re-Animator
Stuart Gordon, 1985

“Get a job in a side show!”

Well, slap my ass and call me Charly. Where the hell has this thing been all my life. Oh, sure, I’d heard of it. Oh, sure, people would say, hey, man, you see Re-Animator? But nooooo, I had to drag my ass to see it. Well, kids, now I have and I can safely say this movie is awesome. The plot, such as it is, revolves around Herbet West, a med student who has discovered a neon green reagent for reanimating dead tissue, and his med student pal Dan Cain. After re-animating either a cat or a cat puppet, reports and effects vary, Herbert and Dan shlep over to the morgue and re-animate the beefiest corpse they can find. Well, said corpse vomits up some blood, because you always vomit up blood when re-animated and proceeds on a rampage around the room, greco-roman wrestling anyone who gets in his way, including the dean. After biting off a few choice fingers, the beefcake kills the dean and Herbert kills the beefcake with... a surgical drill through the chest! Awesome! Well, these two kooky kids decide to re-animate the dean since, after all, Dan’s boinking his daughter Megan, but that only makes the dean undead and crazy. He gets thrown into a padded cell, conveniently adjacent to his best doctor friend’s (who has a crush on Megan, too) office. Best doctor friend, Dr. Hill, figures out the whole reagent thing (I don’t know how) and tries to blackmail Herbert while Dan consoles Megan. Well, of course, Herbert has to lop Doc Hill’s noodle off with a shovel. Then, of course, he has to re-animate the head and body seperately, leading to the body knocking Herbert out and carrying the head all over town. Eventually Doc Hill’s body kidnaps Megan and brings her to Doc Hill’s head, which watches as the body feels her up. Then, of course, the head wants some action and the decapitated body holds the head up to Megan’s face so the head can lick her and whisper creepy things at her! This movie is awesome! Herbert and Dan eventually show up to save the day (but not before the scene gets even weirder) and end up having to fight a legion of re-animated corpses. Brilliant. I can’t believe I’d never seen this. Now, of course, I’m going to have to go out and get the sequels The Bride of Re-Animator and Beyond Re-Animator. Oh, and for the record, Jeffrey Combs stars as Herbert West. I dig Jeffrey Combs.

Rating: Re-Animated Head! ‘Nuff said!

Next week I’m off to attend a wedding, but I’ll be back the week after with more stuff.

Of Course, Click Sucked

2006-06-27T21:37:00.000-04:00

Over in the Recently Seen Department
Wordplay
Patrick Creadon, 2006
This here is the documentary focusing on every aspect of the crossword puzzle, or, more properly, The New York Times crossword puzzle and its master mind, Will Shortz. It's an amiable documentary, taking a close look at the people and personalities behind what can only strenuously be called a phenomenon. Still, the authentic characters presented are almost entirely endearing and the film does make the uninitiated take a different look at how the puzzle works, spending a large amount of time on discerning themes and rethinking clues. There is also a parade of famous crossworders, including Jon Stewart, of the Daily Show, not the Green Lantern Corps, and former President Clinton. It's a fun affair and worth seeing, but perhaps waiting to see on HBO. It is the sort of film that will immediately appeal to two types, however. The first are crossword fans themselves, who will eat it up – my own Aunt Connie is a case in point. The second would be that snooty crowd which will spend the summer bypassing Superman Returns in favor of supposedly upscale and somewhat pretentious documentary fare. This is not to say that Wordplay is pretentious, far from it, but it does suffer from a bit of New York elitism, especially in its constant praise of the Times crossword. Don't get me wrong, I've been known to work a crossword or two myself, and the Times' is clearly the best, but I can't help but thinking that the film could have benefited from comparing the Times' to inferior puzzles and explaining exactly what makes the Times' crossword so exceptional.

An un-related side note, I saw Wordplay at the aptly named Edina Theater in Edina, Minnesota. This is the only theater I have ever been in with an escalator. Oddly, it's only an up escalator, though. There is no down. I don't have a joke, here. I just think it's really weird.

Rating: Four letter word for “not great,” begins with ‘O’

Click
Frank Coraci, 2006
Man, would I have like to fast forward through that! Ha ha ha. Seriously, it blew. Adam Sandler plays a guy who gets a universal remote control that can control anything: people, dogs, whatever. It sounds like a one note joke and it is. Click simply doesn't have any of the zaniness of Billy Maddison or Happy Gilmore, Sandler movies I actually kind of liked, but, instead, takes the Wedding Singer route of repetitive jokes married to an overly sentimental plot. Think It's a Wonderful Life forcefully crossbred with A Christmas Carol, but without any of the endearing characters or novelty. Oh, and replace The Wedding Singer's annoying 1980s setting, complete with incessant, oh, remember the '80s? style jokes with, oh, look, it's a cheesy future, with cheesier age make-up. There is also a painful subplot revolving around a series of dogs humping a stuffed duck. I suspect the high school crowd and fans of Wedding Singer Sandler (teenage girls) will love it. Those of us who yearn for the glory days of Opera Man will only say, "Bye-byeeeee!!!!!!!!!!"

Rating: Stop. Rewind. Eject.

Over the Hedge
Tim Johnson and Karey Kirkpatrick, 2006

Believe it or not, this is actually a pretty funny movie. Definitely solid dollar theater/it’s on TV fare. Much like Dreamworks’ earlier animated release Madagascar, it isn’t the most amazing thing ever and it hardly rivals Disney in any of it’s hey days, but it’s definitely as good as non-Pixar animation gets anymore. The usual cast of celebrity voices star as woodland foragers who suddenly find themselves surrounded by suburbia. Look out for William Shatner in a tour de Shatner performance as an Opossum for whom playing dead is an art.

Side note: I have to admit to wanted to see this much more than Cars. I love Pixar, but I’m just not feeling it for Cars. I’m sure it’s good, but I figure it’s probably more Monsters, Inc/A Bug’s Life good than Incredibles/Finding Nemo good.

Rating: Shatastic

Over in the Greatest Trailer of the Summer Department
Snakes on a Plane! Snakes on a Plane! Snakes on a mother fucking plane!

Rating: What more do I have to tell you people? Snakes on a Plane!

Over in the Unreasonably Hesitant Department
Digital Projection

So, I caught Click at the Carmike Theater in Oakdale, MN. Throughout the movie, something wasn’t sitting right. It all seemed to clean and just a little bit flat, as if the depth and detail of the image weren’t where it should be. Turns out, the theater (and I don’t know if it’s just this one or the whole Carmike chain) has gone digital. There isn’t an inch of film in the place. The movie is instead projected by a digital projector from a computer file.

No, sir, I don’t like it.

Honestly, I don’t really have any particular reasoning here or real argument about the superiority of film to digital projection, but it just doesn’t feel right. I almost feel like, if that’s what they’re going to do, maybe I should just watch a DVD at home. Same basic idea. Still, I’ll look into it and get back to you.

By the way, what was up with the look the manager gave me when I asked about getting literature about the system?

Over in the Eagerly Anticipated Department
Strangers with Candy

What? How can it not be Superman Returns? Well, Superman Returns is almost here kids (I figure I’ll see it on Thursday, Friday on the outside). So, instead of anticipating something I’ve been anticipating for, like, a year and is almost here, I think I’ll anticipate something that I didn’t even know I had to look forward to.

That’s right, Amy Sedaris’ fantastic Comedy Central series, Strangers with Candy, is coming to the big screen. Amy once again plays buck toothed, over the hill Jerri Blank, a self confessed “loser, user, and boozer,” who decides to enroll as a high school freshman at 46. Stephen Colbert, who also co-wrote, returns as maybe gay teacher Chuck Noblet with Paul Dinello coming back as maybe his boyfriend teacher Geof Jellineck. Best of all, my favorite character, the brusque and very, very black principal Onyx Blackman is also back. This is sure to be hilarious.

Over in the Obscure DVD Department
Yellowbeard
Mel Damski, 1983

The Hell? How did I miss this movie all these years? Not only is it about pirates, placing it in the illustrious company of films like Ice Pirates, but it was written by the great ex-Python Graham Chapman, presumably before he died, along with Peter Cook. Better yet, it stars Chapman and Cook alongside a veritable who’s who of actors, including Peter Boyle, Cheech and Chong, Marty Feldman, Eric Idle, the ever sexy Madeline Kahn, James Mason (!), John Cleese, Kenny Mars, and even Spike Milligan. Holy shit! This is like the primarily British It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad world of the eighties! I must see it!

Rating: Awaiting

Over in the Exploitation DVD Department
Tawny Kitaen in Gwendoline
Just Jaeckin, 1984

From the director of one of my dirty old man grandfather’s favorites, Emmanuelle, comes Gwendoline, aka The Perils of Gwendoline in the Land of the Yik Yak. Man, some days I wish I was just sleazy enough to walk into a store and buy this, let alone watch it. Not only does it almost certainly involve Tawny Kitaen’s breasts, which we were cruely denied in Bachelor Party, it also sounds really retarded. This is the honest to God plot summary from IMDB:
Gwendoline arrives in China in a box, and is helped out of her immediate predicament by a female contact and a devil-may-care adventurer. She's on a mission to find her father, who was last seen searching for a rare butterfly in the Land of the Yik Yak. They confront the evil Cheops in an attempt to find Gwen's lost father and the butterfly, and face many other challenges to their mission.

Oh, to be just a little more morally corrupt! Anyway, we all know what the focus of this movie is. With a director who calls himself Just Jaeckin, swear to God, how could it be about anything but?

Rating: Three boxes of tissue.

Over in the False Advertising Department
The Double D Avenger
William Winckler, 2001

I know what you’re thinking, how can I possibly justify buying this thing when I shy away from Tawny Kitaen in all her goodness? Well, the answer is simple, Joe Bob. This is the second release in the Joe Bob Briggs Presents line of DVDs. The previous release, Jesse James Meets Frankenstein’s Daughter wasa fantastic, by the way. The reason for buying this is not, as would be the case with Tawny, Mr. Jaeckin, but Joe Bob his very self providing audio commentary. Think Mystery Science Theater with Joe Bob in the theater. Funny stuff and, frankly, the idea of Joe Bob waxing (is that the word I want to use?) about a boobie movie just seemed too good to pass up. Don’t get me wrong, Joe Bob was spot on, as usual, but the movie wasn’t. You’d think a movie with a name like this would involve a bunch of nubile chickadees running around topless. Not so! Instead, we’re greated by the four top heavy stars who are all over fifty. Yikes! Of course, we don’t see anything, um, unleashed, but it’s probably best that way. If nothing else, though, it makes you wonder, as Joe Bob points out, why would you even bother making a movie like this with ladies like that? Oh, well. Thankfully, Joe Bob keeps it entertaining with a steady stream of wit and bizarre facts. For example, this is not the first film to feature someone knocked out blackjack style with a boob.

Rating: Saggy.

Join me next week when I’ll almost certainly have seen Superman Returns.

Cat People

2006-06-11T20:02:00.000-04:00

Jacques Tourneur, 1942

Joe Bob Briggs has never done me wrong. Quite the contrary, even since I started watching him on TNT some years ago (he used to have a show called MonsterVision), he’s introduced me to some of the greatest and greatest worst movies ever made. If I can ever get half of what he has going on in his columns (he also used to have a newspaper column called Joe Bob Goes to the Drive-In, which you can usually buy off eBay) in mine, I’ll die a happy, if only marginally successful, man. Hell, Joe Bob’s old columns introduced me to some of my all time favorites. Basket Case - being the story of a man who caries his separated, deformed siamese-twin brother around in a picnic basket? All Joe Bob. The entire Evil Dead series? Joe Bob. So when Joe Bob gives four stars to a movie called Teenage Catgirls in Heat, I stand up and listen. Of course, when anybody even mentions a movie called Teenage Catgirls in Heat, I stand up and listen. I mean, come on, teenage catgirls. In heat. And what’s that, Joe Bob, you say the film has, “thirty-two breasts, multiple aardvarking, [and] multiple catvarking.” I’m sold.

Now, again, Joe Bob has never set me wrong. I, on the other hand, have set myself wrong multiple times. You see, Teenage Catgirls in Heat and Cat People are not the same movie, not even remotely. I, of course, accidently purchased the latter. Oh sure, I found it odd that some semi-respectably packaged picture I picked up at a retail store that doesn’t involve the packaging of my DVD purchase in an unmarked paper bag could be such a masterpiece of aardvarking, if I may blatantly steal a term, but I remained undeterred. After all, Joe Bob. Well, I put the thing in the old DVD player and, man, was I ever disappointed. First off, not only is it not the movie I thought it was, it wasn’t even a bad movie. It was good. Damn good. What’s up with that? Hell, it wasn’t even some cheapo horror movie, but a complex psychological thriller which makes use of what it doesn’t show you to create fright and suspense, rather than using crappy CGI effects or rubber costumes. It even had these two bravau sequences: one, in which a girl in a pool seems to be stalked by a panther or something from the shadows and, of course, she’s in a pool, so she can’t get out, and another, in which said girl is walking home and thinks she’s being stalked by same big game animal only for the suspense to end with me jumping out of my seat when a bus comes in from right of frame. Damn it. What’s more, I’m expecting busty nymphomaniacs with, like, cat ear barrettes, but instead get Simone Simon, this incredibly elegant and vulnerable French woman, who just drips with talent and class and who exudes the exact sort of silver screen charisma I love in actresses of her era, kind of like the great Jean Harlow. I can’t catch a break. Oh, and the plot? The plot deals with a woman (Simon) from some crazy Europe country, which has instilled in her a superstition of her turning into a killer jungle cat should she ever kiss a man. Oh, I know, still sounds like it could be pretty awful, right? But, noooooo, instead it has to be a movie from producer Val Lewton, well known for taking wonky premises and grounding them in the real world and adding a touch of the psychological to make the (minimal) weirdness believable. So, yeah, that means he never shows her turn into a cat, but largely plays her fears for the superstitions they are, while still giving them huge weight and horror to the poor girl whose fears they are. Worse, the other characters, including her husband who has to deal with clear sexual frustration (in a movie from 1942, no less) and begins to turn to his female coworker, a caring woman and not at all the mincing, husband stealing stereotype you might expect. He even brings a psychiatrist into the picture to give Simon’s fears further depth and realistic underpinnings. Awful. Just awful. I can’t tell you how furious I am that I got that instead of a reincarnated Egyptian cat cult canoodling around Texas. Unbelievable, but I only have myself to blame for watching this fantastic movie instead of a crappy one. Man, am I peeved. So, I guess I have to give it four stars and... what’s that? Joe Bob also gave Cat People four stars?

Never mind.

The Bride

2006-06-04T21:51:00.000-04:00

Franc Roddam, 1985

"You didn't create me!"

So, like most Americans, I frequent the local Wal-Mart. I’m no Wal-Flower about it either. When I go into that Meca of the Mid-West, I dive into the bargain bins like their ball pits at Showbiz Pizza. Of course, my favorite sale bin is the $5.00 DVD vat. This is a bin of movies that either aren’t very good, have completely lapsed from the public consciousness, or both. There are a few movies that you will find in this vat regardless of Wal-Mart and regardless of time. These are movies that, for whatever reason, Wal-Mart ordered roughly a gagillion copies of and are desperately anxious to get rid of, but not so desperate that they’ll let them go for under a five spot. These are movies like Bedazzled, the Brendan Frasier remake, not the excellent Peter Cook/Dudley Moore original, Killer Klowns from Outerspace, and assorted TV series compilations. In any event, it’s a good place to look for movies you’ve never heard of before. One that I’d never heard of before is a little movie called The Bride. Now, this sucker is clearly a remake, reimagining, rewhatever of The Bride of Frankenstein. One look at the DVD packaging, though, tells you to stay away. First off, the thing stars Sting, who’ll you’ll recall is a poor man’s David Bowie at best, and Jennifer Beals. That’s right, Flashdance is the bride in question. Besides that, the cover for this thing is so excessively cheesy that you know immediately that it is either a direct to video crapfest, best watched through the goggles of a Svengoolie or with occasional breaks to stare at Elvira’s breasts, or a Sci-Fi Channel original movie. In any event, while tempted by the sheer promise of crap, I decided to avoid this sucker like the plague.

Fast forward a week or two. I’m at the local Goodwill, looking at their videos and wondering how a second hand store can expect to get $3.00 for a video tape of The Making of Apollo 13 when I spy a video copy of The Bride. Something’s wrong, though. This doesn’t look like the same movie Wal-Mart can’t sell for a fin. It’s old. Eighties old. I check out the box. Sting? Check. Flashdance? Check. Frankenstein movie? Check. The hell? This new box is a whole different story. It displays stills of perfect eighties cheese, involving nutty effects work and overly ornate wardrobe. It tells me the movie has a midget, specifically David Rappaport, one of the screen’s finest midgets, and, as the monster, Clancy Brown. Now, I adore Clancy Brown and have gone on about him before in these pages. Outside of masterful turns in The Shawshank Redemption and HBO’s underrated Carnivale, he’s the best Lex Luthor there ever was, appearing regularly on Warner Brothers’ Superman and Justice League cartoons for the past few years. He was also apparently in The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension. He’s the monster! Suddenly, a piece of direct to video crap becomes sweet eighties cheese and I must buy it. Well, but it I do. I even watch it and it’s. . . well, it’s only okay. Don’t get me wrong, it’s certainly watchable and there’s some nice bits of business in there.

Essentially, what you have here is two movies. Movie A is the Frankenstein monster, here named Viktor, and his midget pal Rinaldo heading off to join the circus. Seriously. Movie B is Baron Charles (?!) Frankenstein, remember, Sting, hanging around his mansion with Flashdance, who he’s told is an orphan he found in the woods, despite the fact that we all watched him slap her together and shoot her full of 1.21 gigawatts at the start of the movie. Anyway, Movie B is pretty much Sting saying “Monster, old pal, I made you a woman, but she’s pretty hot. So, I’m gonna keep her. Get lost,” which the monster does, beginning Movie A. Meanwhile, Movie B involves a lot of hanging around a castle with Flashdance wondering who she is and Sting teaching her about the world and science and literature while nurturing an unhealthy, pseudo incestuous lust for her. At least, that’s what we’re supposed to think is going on. There are lots of scenes with inappropriate staring and claims of ownership by Sting to his creepy pals. He even threatens to beat the tar out of Cary Elwes when he catches the man in tights trying to boink Flashdance. Still, Sting can’t be bothered to sell any of this. Really, he couldn’t be much worse. He shows up, states his lines matter of factly and devoid of emotion and leaves. I’m sure the producers wish they’d have shelled out the cash to just go ahead and hire an authentic David Bowie instead. Still, Movie A isn’t all bad. Flashdance is actually pretty good and you do feel for her and there’s a nice scene at an overly elaborate dance involving equally elaborate costumes that just glows with the sort of trumped up production values I hoped would fill the whole movie.

Then there’s Movie A, which is surprisingly touching. Again, Clancy Brown in the monster and his story begins as he flees Sting’s castle. You see, the monster knew that Sting had, at least initially, built Flashdance for him. So, after she awakens, there’s some clumsy fumbling around and then Sting says, “Get lost.” Now, our monster is an interesting one. He is not the angry Karloff monster or the incredibly erudite version of the monster that has become so en vogue of late in things like USA’s recent, intriguing Frankenstein TV, featuring Parker Posey and Michael Madsen, movie or Grant Morrison’s excellent Seven Soldiers: Frankenstein mini-series for DC Comics. Instead, Brown’s monster is simple and compassionate. He does not attack unless provoked, and he has to be provoked pretty hard, but, instead, hobbles around the countryside looking for friendship and understanding, which he finds early on in the form of Rinaldo. Now, Rinaldo could very easily be a comedy relief character, but David Rappaport, whom you might remember as the lead midget in Time Bandits, infuses him with palpable pathos. His life as man used to being shunned by the world around him makes him the perfect teacher for the monster, whom he dubs Viktor. The two very quickly become friends and the bond between them is perfectly displayed. Soon enough, they come to the circus and engage in an act where Rinaldo goes up on the trapeze and clowns around for a little while before seemingly falling off, only to be saved at the last minute by an elastic cord. Viktor, meanwhile, runs around below, dressed as a woman, screaming about his “poor baby.” Well, as things tend to go at the circus, some jerk carny cuts Rinaldo’s cord and he falls to his death, leading to the most touching scene of the film and, indeed, a much more touching scene than you would expect from it. Viktor kneels outside the tent, gently cradling the broken body of his only friend in the entire world. Rinaldo says his goodbyes to Viktor and passes on. Viktor clutches the little man’s body tightly to his own and as the scene fades to black, says, simply, “I love you.”

After this, Movies A and B come together rather predictably as Viktor has to beat up Sting to save Flashdance, who has begun to understand what she really is. The movie, of course, ends with she and Viktor sailing off into the sunset. A parting thought, it’s really a lot like Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes, in that it takes a well worn, semi-pulpy work and tries to legitimize and romanticize it, often unnecessarily, making it into a Heritage Film, like Howard’s End or Remains of the Day. So, there it is, The Bride. It’s a solid little movie, more interesting for Movie A than B, but still worth your time, should it come on WGN in the afternoon. Two and a half stars.

The Last Straw

2006-05-27T18:13:00.000-04:00

X-Men: The Last Stand
Brett Ratner, 2006

There is a scene toward the end of X-Men: The Last Stand where Magneto and his Brotherhood of Ill-Defined Mutants walks out on the Golden Gate bridge as the master of magnetism shoves each car out of his way. Once he is about halfway across, Magneto raises his hands in that “I’ma gonna use my powers” kind of a way and rips a whole section of the bridge from, not only it’s moorings, but from the rest of the bridge. He then flies his little piece of bridge across the water toward Alcatraz Island, new home of a hospital which has developed a mutant cure. We shift to the perspective of the soldiers stationed on the island and watch it fly toward the island. It is easily one of the goofiest, most awkward things I have ever seen in an action movie. It also doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. After all, it’s not like Magneto is taking the whole bridge or just swinging part of it around, toward the island, he’s taking a section of the bridge. That said, I’m not entirely sure how his magnetic powers allow him to wrench a solid piece of steel in half, without damaging either half, but, apparently, it does. As I was watching this, and thinking about how stupid it looked, I couldn’t help but think of the scene in X2: X-Men United when Magneto escapes from his plastic prison. He ends up flying away from his cell on a flattened disc of metal filings, his arms crossed regally and defiantly against his chest, two small metal balls swirling around him, breaking glass doors and knocking guards unconscious. The escape is elegant and simple. It is classic Magneto.

It strikes me that the differences between these two scenes pretty capably summarizes the differences between X-Men: The Last Stand and X2, the franchise’s previous entry. X2 was a really terrific piece of work, well crafted, well written, well acted, and containing a great deal of emotional character development. The Last Stand, however, is a goofy, slapdash affair. Characters act contrary to earlier development, such as when Mystique is shot by a small needle containing the mutancy cure and cured before Magneto’s eyes. Magneto’s response is rather blasé. He tells the now human looking girl that she is no longer one of them. She no longer matters. There is no rage in him, no righteous anger over the loss of his valued lieutenant, who, I should point out, he just went to some effort to rescue from imprisonment. Likewise, Wolverine cries twice in this movie. Cries. What the hell is that?

Beyond poor character work, the movie also has huge problems with pacing, excessive dialogue scenes that don’t advance anything at all, the introduction of way too damn many characters, including Beast and Angel, neither of whom get the same fleshing out that Nightcrawler did in the franchise’s previous entry, and huge logic inconsistencies, such as Angel’s ability to fly, by virtue of his own wings, from New York to San Francisco in roughly the same time it takes the X-Men’s supersonic jet.

Now, as you’ve probably figured out, the plot of this stink burger revolves around the discovery of a cure for mutants. Magneto is pissed because he thinks the government will use it to forcibly cure all mutants, a nice bit of characterization given Magneto’s imprisonment in Auswitch. Too bad the film just barely remembered to touch on that little bit of character history. Turns out, Magneto is right. The US government rather quickly weaponizes the stuff. Still, in the end, the X-Men fight with the government against Magneto. The fact of the government’s betray wholly ignored by the filmmakers. After all, should Wolverine and crew be equally pissed by this?
Meanwhile, there’s a barely comprehensible plot shoehorned into the affair revolving around Jean Gray returning from the dead as the Phoenix, an all powerful entity who turns out, by the end of the film, to pretty much just be a thug. Now, you may recall Jean Gray’s death in X2. Well handled, right? Good show. Well, here, the resurrection is barely touched on. The characters learn that it happened and largely take it in stride. You’d think Cyclops would be pretty wowed by the whole thing, but we don’t get to find out as gets killed by the returned Jean about ten minutes into the movie. Cyclops is followed in death by (MAJOR SPOILERS AFOOT) Professor Xavier, in a similarly poorly staged death scene, and Jean herself, dead again by movie’s end. My God. Not one of these deaths was any good, nor were they given the time to breathe that they needed so that both the audience and the characters could feel the loss. Remember how awesome, say, Spock’s death was in Star Trek II? Well, this is more Data’s death in Nemesis: rushed and poorly executed. As if all of that isn’t bad enough, the filmmakers (and I say filmmakers because I don’t feel like this was just director Brett Ratner’s fault) further clear the board, refusing future X movies, by curing Mystique, Rogue, and Magneto. That’s right kids. Powerless. Forever. Supposedly. But, given the end of this thing, probably. I’ve already discussed how much Mystique’s curing sucked, so let’s take a look at the other two. Now, Rogue has been a major character in this series. In many ways, she’s been our window into this strange new world. Given her mutant power renders her incapable of touching anyone, you’d think she’d want the cure and you’d be right. However, you’d also think that this would be a major plot arc in the film, all full of angst. You’d be wrong. Rogue is hardly in the film at all. When she does get cured, it’s treated as sort of a well duh, black and white moment. Of course she’d get cured, the film seems to say, why would she want any different? Ugh. As for Magneto, he gets stabbed in the chest by four or five needles at the end of the movie and then mugs for the camera. It was a pretty goofy moment, especially since you’d think the master of magnetism would have a field to repel the hundreds of flying metal needles all set up. Of course, they may have been plastic needles, but, since no one said so, I’m guessing metal. So, yeah. He mugs at the camera and I swear to God, I half expected him to shout out, “Oh, the irony! That I, Magneto, should now be human!”

29 - 25: Blucher!

2006-05-21T16:43:00.000-04:00

29. Young Frankenstein
Mel Brooks, 1974

“Put the candle back”

This may be the funniest movie of my youth. I have no idea how many times I watched this one growing up, but it was a lot. Man, I’m a great writer. Now, this is another one of those movies that, if you haven’t seen it, you’re a fool. Plain and simple. It is, without question, one of the funniest movies of all time. True, it is pretty much a spoof of the Universal Horror cycle and the James Whale/Boris Karloff Frankenstein films in specific, but you don’t need to have seen a damn one of them to get this movie. Although, now that I have seen a few of those movies, Young Frankenstein seems all the funnier. If you have the time, I highly recommend comparing the hermit scene in Bride of Frankenstein with the Gene Hackman hermit scene in Young Frankenstein. Genius!

I should point out that there is one Mel Brooks movie that I like better than this, but this one probably has the finest cast of any of Mel’s movies. Gene Wilder is doing some of the best work of his career, if not the best, as Fredrick Frankenstein (or is that Frodrick Fronkensteen?), Marty Feldman is a delight as Igor (it’s pronounced Eye-gor), and Madeline Kahn is her usual gorgeous and hilarious self as Fredrick’s fiancee. There’s only one word to say about her, here or anywhere, “woof.” Rounding out the cast is Kenny Mars, with both a hilarious accent and a monocle placed over an eye patch, the aforementioned Gene Hackman, and a very sexy Teri Garr. Then, of course, there’s Cloris Leachman as Frau Blucher (lightning crashes, horses whiney), who scares me as much today as she did when I met her when I was like five. Blucher!

28. To Kill a Mockingbird
Robert Mulligan, 1962

A few years back, the American Film Institute named Atticus Finch as its number one greatest screen hero of all time. To be brief, I was underwhelmed. But, then, I hadn’t seen this film yet. I know. I know. What the hell had I been doing with my life? Didn’t you read the book in grade school (I didn’t)? Didn’t they make you watch the movie (they didn’t)? Well, finally, I saw the movie and I’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the most moving pictures you’ll ever see in your life. It is the story of one magic summer, of Scout and Jem and Dill Harris and of Boo Radley. At its center is the portrait of Scout’s and Jem’s father, Atticus, perhaps the finest man to ever grace the silver screen. Played with amazing power by Gregory Peck, Atticus is a small town lawyer. He is, at first glance, an ordinary man. He holds no grand title and lives in no especially important place in history. That’s at first glance. As the film unfolds, however, it becomes clear pretty quickly that Atticus is a great man, a man of steel convictions and amazing clarity of mind. He does live in the right place and the right time and he will make a profound difference, if only to the minds of his own children, who he loves so much. There is a part of this movie that gets me misty every time. Atticus has just defended Tom Robinson (Admiral Cartright to you Star Trek fans), a black man clearly falsely accused of attacking a white girl, in court. Things look bad for Tom. The courtroom empties, except for the second floor. This is where all of the black spectators sit. They and Scout and Jem. Finally, Atticus turns to leave. Ever sole on that second floor stands up in respect of the passing of a great man.

27. Blade Runner
Ridley Scott, 1982

“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.”

This is the ultimate sci-fi film noir. Harrison Ford is Deckard, a Blade Runner. For the record, a Blade Runner is a detective who hunts down Replicants on Earth. For the record, a Replicant is a sort of highly advanced android, indiscernible from man except by the use of a special psychological exam. Oh, it’s crazy, man. With four replicants, including the awesome Rutger Hauer and the super hot Daryl Hannah, loose on Earth, Harrison Ford is a busy guy. To make things worse, Rutger and his pals have decided to hunt down their creator while Deckard meets yet another replicant, Sean Young, who may be a robot in real life, who is significantly more human than any replicant he’s ever met. The plot is full on noir, with lots of running around to seedy places and asking questions of seedy people. The scenery, meanwhile, is both beautiful and futuristic. It is cramped and sometimes dreary. There are blimps and flying cars and neon signs and skylines to melt the brain. It’s a hell of a thing to watch. The narrative is a little complex, but incredibly worthwhile. Oh, and did I mention that Deckard might be a replicant himself? Like I said, crazy man.

26. 2001: A Space Odyssey
Stanley Kubrick, 1968

It starts with a bunch of half evolved monkeys (and some tapirs, but the less said about those things, the better; I mean, what the hell are they, horses? pigs?) and then leaps to man’s most ambitious space mission - a launch to Jupiter to examine some sort of mysterious obelisk (which also might have been responsible for the evolutionary jump from monkey to man). On board the space ship? An artificial intelligence, HAL. Well, friends, HAL goes bat shit insane and tries to kill the two astronauts on board, Dr. Bowman and Dr. Poole. The astronauts strike back and eventually make contact with the obelisk, resulting in what hours of amphetamine ingestion leads to believe is the next major step in man’s evolution: space babies. Yeah, man! Of course, this is both a shit load of plot and not really all that much. The movie clocks in at about two and half hours, but there isn’t a whole lot of dialog. What there is a lot of is a perfect score, comprised of well chose classical music, and a series of absolutely amazing fucking shots. I mean, my God. The film looks incredible. So many of the shots, have been cribbed in parodies and homages, so their impact is somewhat lessened today by exposure, but they are no less amazing. I could watch it all day. That said, most of you may want to consider liberal use of the fast forward button.

25. Suspiria
Dario Argento, 1977

This is one of the best horror movies of all time and certainly one of the most stylish. The plot, in print, is goofy as hell. A young girl, Suzy, goes to German to go to ballet school. Turns out, the ballet school is run by witches. The witches are bent on vague evil. Well, when I saw this description on the old Tivo (I was watching a documentary about Mario Bava on IFC and this was going to be on next), I couldn’t have turned the channel faster, except that I was absolutely exhausted. So I let the thing start. The credits begin to role and reveal that the music for the film was provided by a band called Goblin. Goblin. Does anything sound more crappy eighties metal than that? Well, the soundtrack kicks in soon enough and, I’ll be damned, creepy as hell. It’s not metal. It’s not what you would expect out of a band called Goblin at all. Lots of bells and strings and just a great, nicely repetitive, genuinely creepy score. Then, the movie itself starts. Suzy is walking out of an airport. From the lighting and everything, it’s immediately apparent that this is going to be one amazing looking movie. It is immediately incredibly stylish, with exceptional use of color, red in particular. When Suzy then finds herself outside the school in the pouring rain, the red of the building is more intense than I thought possible on film. Of course, the style, the compositions, and the color just get better and better throughout the film. The whole thing manages to look like nothing else and provide an actually suspenseful and shocking narrative throughout. Truly amazing stuff. There are several set pieces here which are perfect, including the opening murder in a truly psychedelic hotel/apartment building and the murder of a blind man, standing in an open square. That one is particularly good. Here, we have this blind guy and his dog, stopped dead in a city square. There is something there, but we don’t know what. There are sounds, they sound like wings, but we don’t know where they’re coming from. Argento, the film’s director, gives us glimpses of nearby gargoyles and roof tops. Is something there? We’re never sure. We can’t look for long enough. And the blind guy? He sure as hell doesn’t see anything. Well, the scene goes on for some time, building suspense. We know he’s gonna die. We just don’t know where it’s coming from. When it does come, it’s from the most unexpected source of all. Great stuff. If you’re at all a fan of horror, run out and get this. Like I say, at first glance it may seem like it’s going to be pretty goofy, but it remains one of the two or three most effective horror films I’ve ever seen.

Next week: fast cars, demonic children, papers of transit, Gozarians, and a mine shaft gap!

34-30: The Production Dude Is Back with Detectives, War Brides, Invisible Rabbits, Arabians, and Big Freaking Robots

2006-05-15T12:59:00.000-04:00

Well, kids, it’s been a while and I’m sorry for that. Moving to a new town and trying to get work and everything takes up a lot of your free time. That said, I think I’m ready to get this blog moving again, but we’ll have to make a couple of changes. From here on out, the blog will no longer be daily. That dog just won’t hunt. So, I’m going to switch to a weekly format. In the future, columns will run about whatever I feel like. It will still be movie heavy, but I’ll be looking at some other pop culture type stuff, too. I may even comment from time to time on the scene here in the Twin Cities. That’s the future, though. For the next couple of weeks, I’ll be finishing off my list (five at a time), talking about new films I’ve seen, and that sort of thing. So, let’s get started.

Top 100: 34-30

34. Sherlock, Jr.
Buster Keaton, 1924

This is the one and only short film that appears on this list, clocking in at only 44 minutes, and one of the very few silent films. That said, I find myself watching more and more silent film, so who knows what that might do for the list down the road. Anyway, Buster Keaton stars and directs in what may be his best masterpiece. Keaton is a projectionist and would be detective who, in a dream, enters a movie screen and becomes the great detective star of the picture. Keaton uses this structure to build a number of gags revolving around the screen and cuts between scenes, including a hilarious bit where the scenery changes, while Keaton remains in place, making him fall off of chairs that are no longer there or appear suddenly amidst a group of lions. The film also highlights Keaton’s unbelievable mechanical precision, featuring a number of stunts that are simply beyond belief, each requiring absolute precision to work. It’s fantastic; it’s funny; it’s Keaton’s best and a damn fine exploration of the plastics of the image.

33. The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek
Preston Sturges, 1944

Betty Hutton stars as Trudy Kockenlocker (a great comedy name for those of you taking notes). Trudy lives in any town USA during the second World War. One night, she goes out dancing with some American G.I.s who are going “over there.” Well, poor Trudy gets conked on the head and wakes up the next morning married and pregnant. Worse yet, she can’t even remember the name of the man who did it, although it might be Ratskiwatski. Eddie Bracken also stars, playing Norval Jones, a young man who has always loved Trudy and wants to help her out of her fix and marry her. This is an unbelievably sweet movie. It is also hilarious and a bit controversial, given the subject matter and the fact that the film was released in the forties. The film benefits a great deal from its stars, including William Demarest as Trudy’s cooky cop father and Diana Lynn as her sister, and from it’s director, Preston Sturges. As with most Sturges films, the people and situations are surpassingly down to earth and, while certainly attractive, Betty Hutton is no Hollywood beauty queen. Like Mr. Bracken, Ms. Hutton looks like a person you could know, adding a great deal of empathy and sympathy to the situation.

32. Harvey
Henry Koster, 1950

“Years ago my mother used to say to me, she’d say, ‘In this world, Elwood, you must be’ - she always called me Elwood - ‘In this world, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.’ Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. And you may quote me.”

Ah yes, the enduring story of a man and his best friend, an invisible, 6’ 3 1/2” rabbit, Harvey. Well, actually, he’s more of a pooka than a rabbit, but that’s beside the point. As the opening statement may suggest, the film, a warmhearted comedy, mostly revolves around Elwood P. Dowd’s, the delightful Jimmy Stewart, family’s conviction that he is, in fact, bat shit insane (rabbit shit insane?). That family consists of his sister Veta and her daughter Myrtle Mae, which is a name that should only be reserved for Nazi war criminals and, possibly, turtles. Veta is played by Josephine Hull, who won an Oscar for the picture. Josephine Hull is sort of a more excitable Margaret Dumont. She played a similar role (old lady) in the film version of Arsenic and Old Lace. As the film progresses, you absolutely fall in love with Elwood and, by extension, Harvey. Like those characters who understand him best, you come to not care if Elwood is crazy or not and begin to buy into the magic of Harvey himself. It isn’t hard to do. Despite Veta’s protestations, Elwood is really a grade A human being: kind, gentle, and caring. Toward the end of the film, Jimmy Stewart gives one of my favorite monologues in all cinema, a rambling little speech about how he met Harvey and how Harvey is bigger than any problem you may ever have. “We sit in the bars ... have a drink or two ... and play the juke box. Very soon the faces of the other people turn towards me and they smile. They say: ‘We don’t know your name, mister, but you’re all right, all right.’ Harvey and I warm ourselves in these golden moments. We came as strangers - soon we have friends. They come over. They sit with us. They drink with us. They talk to us. They tell us about the great big terrible things they’ve done and the great big wonderful things they’re going to do. Their hopes, their regrets. Their loves, their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. Then I introduce them to Harvey, and he’s bigger and grander than anything they can offer me. When they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back.”

31. Lawrence of Arabia
David Lean, 1962

Lawrence of Arabia is one of the finest looking films ever made. Every frame, every single composition deserves to be framed and displayed in a museum. There are few parallels to the masterful images David Lean gives us here. Set amidst the sparse and beautiful desert, presented in the widest of screens, is the epic story of T. E. Lawrence, Peter O’Toole, a World War I British officer who comes to help lead an Arab tribal army. It’s an incredible picture and one which must be seen on the big screen before you die. I wish I had more to say, but, in this case, images are definitely more powerful than words. If you’ve never seen it, if you’ve only ever seen it on television or in full frame, run out and get the DVD today. You will be overwhelmed.

30. The Iron Giant
Brad Bird, 1999

This is Old Yeller for the sci-fi set. Forget the story of a boy and his dog, this is the, believe it or not, heart warming story of a boy and his giant freaking robot. Young Hogarth Hughes finds a giant robot which has crashed to Earth. The robot, which is at once naive and incredibly wise, befriends the boy and they have the standard series of amusing misadventures, many of them dealing with avoiding the United States Armed Forces, or at least the semi-crackpot investigator they’ve sent to look into an apparent crash. There isn’t a lot more I can say about this picture, since I’m certain almost no one saw it. Still, this is probably the single best animated feature of the last ten years. For the record, it was made by Brad Bird, who is also responsible for The Incredibles, which should give you some idea of the quality here. Really, though, the best part of this picture is the end. Now, I’m a man in good standing. Have been for about 23 years, but I’m here to tell you, if you don’t cry at the end of this one, you don’t have a soul.

See you next week with 29-25, including monkeys, robots, monsters, witches, and Boo Radley!

35. Patton

2006-04-10T15:36:00.000-04:00

Franklin J. Schaffner, 1970

“Rommel, you magnificent bastard! I read your book!”

Be seated. General George S. Patton Jr. was a lot of things. He was one of the most decorated officers in the history of the United States Army, he was a four star general, a master at tank war fare, a poet, a warrior, a firm believer in reincarnation, and, frankly, a complete bastard, but a magnificent bastard at any rate. I know virtually nothing about Patton, except for what I’ve seen in this film. I don’t know exactly how accurate it is and I don’t really care. The man in this picture is so awesome, so much larger than life, that he must be, to some degree, a dream of the real man, but it is so impressive a dream that I could hardly bear to replace it with the reality.

Patton, as he appears in the film, is a terribly complex character. He is a brilliant military leader, but his sense of self and his expectations of his men truly belong to the bygone days he claims to actually remember. As Patton himself says in a scene set among Carthaginian ruins, “The Carthaginians were proud and brave, but they couldn’t hold on. Two thousand years ago. I was there.” Still, in the years of the second World War, in which the film is set, the world had moved past tolerating the sort of martial order that was appropriate two thousand years ago, or, even, a single war ago. In one of the film’s most memorable scenes, and a scene which also brilliantly illustrates the internal contradictions of the man, an impressively compassionate Patton enters the medical tent to visit those soldiers who were injured under his command. To some he offers kind words, to others, purple hearts, to a third man Patton simply leans down and whispers some powerful words into his ear. We cannot hear what he says, but the action is so incredibly gentle and compassionate that you cannot help but be touched. With the next man, though, things change. Patton approaches a young soldier, apparently uninjured, sitting on a stool. Patton asks what’s wrong with the boy. When the soldier tells Patton that his nerves are shot, Patton calls him a “God-damned coward.” The boy starts to sniffle and Patton backhands him so hard, he knocks the boy’s helmet off. “I won’t have a man who’s just afraid to fight stinking up this place of honor!” Say what you will of Patton’s actions, they are not the actions that modern society is willing to tolerate and Patton ultimately has to apologize in front of the entire third army. That is what this movie is, though. It’s a portrait of a man out of time, a brilliant, brave bastard fighting the only way he knows how and loving it.

Of course, Patton wouldn’t be half the movie it is without the incredible talent that is apparent in every frame. Franklin J. Schaffner brings his remarkable sense of pacing and camera angles along with his ability to coax exceptional performances from actors in difficult scenarios to the director’s chair. Jerry Goldsmith, one of the film world’s finest composers, brings an incredible martial score. It’s a personal favorite of mine and I wish I could convey the driving melody of the piece in print, but, somehow, I don’t think “bum bum bah bum, ba bum ba dahdah dum” really covers it. Finally, I cannot say enough times how incredible George C. Scott is as Patton. It’s the performance of his career. Hell, I’m pretty sure Patton himself wasn’t half the Patton Scott is. It’s a brilliant, hard bit, renegade performance that is easily as rough around the edges as it is immediately endearing. That’s all.

36. The Piano

2006-04-07T13:11:00.000-04:00

Jane Campion, 1993

“The voice you hear is not my speak voice, but my mind’s voice.”

The Piano stars Holly Hunter as Ada, a girl who has been unable to speak since childhood. She does however have a young daughter, Flora, played by Anna Paquin, and an incredible talent and affinity for the piano. Since she doesn’t talk, she’s considered quite the oddball around Victorian England and, so, she is shipped off to New Zealand to marry Sam Neill. While there, she also meets and slowly falls for Harvey Keitel, playing an Englishman who’s gone a bit native with the local Maori.

On it’s surface, the film is a haunting, complex love story and a sort of post modern bodice ripper. It is, to some degree, comparable to Picnic at Hanging Rock, number 87 on this very list. What goes on just beneath the surface, though, is a rather surprising and thorough examination of feminist film theory. Director Jane Campion (a woman director?!) seems to be working from the scholarship of well known (at least to us uber-nerd film students) feminist theorist Laura Mulvey. Mulvey’s principal idea, and forgive me if I don’t get the whole argument down, it’s been a while, is that the cinema is an intrinsically male, voyeuristic tool. Film for her is all about the “male gaze.” Take for example the character of Miss Torso, the ballerina who lives across the alley, in Hitchcock’s Rear Window. When Jimmy Stewart’s character looks at Miss Torso he sees her as one thing and one thing only: a sex object. According to Mulvey, this is the essence of the woman in cinema, to be looked upon at all times and in every essence as a sex object. Further, women in the audience have no choice but to look at the women on the screen in the same way. Mulvey argues that since the camera’s gaze always takes the perspective of the male gaze, a woman has no choice but to view women on screen through the filter of the male gaze. Thus cinema becomes a demeaning, voyeuristic tool. Now, there is more to Mulvey’s argument than I am presenting here and it has been some time since I’ve considered it in any length. Further, I’m a bit biased as I don’t particularly agree with Mulvey’s ideas. If you’re interested in her full argument, and why wouldn’t you be, check out Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema by Laura Mulvey. There’s a sort of critical approach to that work from John Haber at this site which might explain things better than I have. http://www.haberarts.com/mulvey.htm

In the meantime, it seems clear watching The Piano that Campion is, in part, replying to these ideas. That certainly seems to be at the root of Ada’s inability to speak. She cannot relate to the world around her as it is the world of the male gaze. The film continues to be full of this sort of thing, continually putting Ada into positions of subjugation at Neill’s hands, her relationship with her daughter, and her being denied her own piano. Where Campion begins to differ though and where I really begin to like the movie as something more than haunting, vaguely Victorian romance comes with giving Ada power. She has power over Keitel and, slowly, over her own fate. Campion then begins to change the conventional language of cinema, recreating Ada’s index finger as a clear phallic symbol. What begins to happen is that she starts to confuse the gender identities of Ada and Keitel, giving one certain conventionally masculine characteristics and the other feminine. This, then, seems to be a refutation of Mulvey’s central idea that men and women cannot communicate and that the male gaze controls all. What develops here is a clear notion that men and women must work together and that the female is capable of as much power as the male when she is willing to take it.

So, pretty heavy stuff I know. But I am back. Expect more updates next week. I promise the next couple will be less thinky.

Vacation

2006-03-27T15:23:00.000-05:00

Now, just hold on. National Lampoon's Vacation has not made my list. Certainly not at 36. Instead, I'm using this space to let you, my loyal readers, know that The Production Dude will be on vacation until I finish moving to Minneapolis this week. Expect regular posting to resume within two weeks.

That said, I do like National Lampoon's Vacation. It's pretty funny. Also, it has Beverly D'Angelo in it. I have a thing for Beverly D'Angelo. Also, that pool scene with Christie Brinkley skinny dipping..................................

I'm sorry, where was I? Oh right, so I'll be gone for a few days, but I'll be back. In the meantime, I cannot encourage you enough to go check out Bob Loblaw's Law Blog. You won't regret it.

37. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

2006-03-26T11:12:00.000-05:00

George Roy Hill, 1969

“Think ya used enough dynamite there, Butch?”

I’ve mentioned the idea of Westerns about the end of the West a couple of times in these pages, but this is the first time I am actually going to talk about one of those pictures. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is a film about several things, but the end of the world and the very way of life that was the West is among the most evident. For those of you who have been living in a cave, Butch and Sundance were two of the greatest outlaws of the Old West. They were train robbers, bank robbers, and leaders of The Hole in the Wall Gang. Their names live on in the legends of the West, side by side with Wyatt Earp, Jesse James, and Billy the Kid. By the time this movie takes place, however, their legends were beginning to fade. As the film opens, Butch and Sundance find one of their men trying to lead a sort of revolt among The Hole in the Wall Gang. Not long after, they thoroughly botch a train robbery by using too much dynamite. After that, the film moves into one of its best sequences as Butch and Sundance ride for miles, attempting to lose a band of lawmen and their Indian tracker. In short, things are not going well for Butch and Sundance. Their way of life, which was clearly the stuff of Western legend, is simply no longer tenable. Director George Roy Hill emphasizes this decline of the Western way of life through the use of inventive and amusing set pieces, including one displaying the bicycle’s ability to replace the horse, through a shooting and narrative style which is alien to the traditional Western, including an inventive sequence involving a series of still photographs of Butch, Sundance, and Etta Place. He also employs a terrific score, which is wholly unorthodox for the genre and was written by Burt Bacharach and featured the single “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head,” sung by B. J. Thomas.

Still, as great as all this stuff is, and it is great, it isn’t what makes the movie what is. The heart and soul of the film are Butch and Sundance themselves, played in career defining turns by Paul Newman and Robert Redford respectively. Their friendship is what makes the movie the classic it is. In a way, it’s a bit like a buddy cop picture, with the talkative Butch and the solemn Sundance running around America and, later, Bolivia together, cracking wise and robbing banks. The fact that these two are having a great time, permeates the film. Rarely, do you see two men having so much fun and crafting such a believable friendship. The two simply play perfectly off each other. Of course, audiences agreed and the two reteamed, along with George Roy Hill, to make The Sting four years later. Frankly, I don’t like The Sting near as much. Partly, I think that is because of how fresh and vibrant the camaraderie seems on the screen in the early picture. Also, I just think that Butch and Sundance are better characters. Anyway, you do tend to get pretty invested in Butch and Sundance themselves over the course of the film. Unfortunately, this being an end of the West film, things can’t end well for Butch and Sundance. You see, like Wyatt Earp or Wild Bill or Billy the Kid, Butch and Sundance are the West. They embody it. With the West gone, and Bolivia clearly a poor replacement, Butch and Sundance cannot survive. There is some reassurance in that the two go out in a blaze of glory, fighting side by side, the way they should, but that makes the ending gunfight against the Bolivian army no less tragic and no less memorable. The film ends and the West is over and so are Butch and Sundance, but at least it was one hell of a last ride.

38. Chinatown

2006-03-24T14:18:00.000-05:00

Roman Polanski, 1974

“Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown.”

In the sixties and seventies, there were a number of movies, like The Wild Bunch, Once Upon a Time in the West, and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, which turned the Western genre on it’s ear by being movies not about the West but about the end of the West. In many ways, I think of Chinatown as doing the same sort of thing with the noir genre. The typical noir detective film is about a courageous, gutsy detective who hits the streets, gets in over his head, but, through asking all the right questions, solves the mystery and wins out in the end. Ultimately, what many of these detective movies are saying is that it’s good to ask questions. Asking questions saves the day.

Then there’s Chinatown, a movie where every question detective Jake Gittes asks reveals another black scar. It is also a movie which builds to a tragic conclusion that makes both Jake and ourselves wonder if it was at all worth it. The film seems to be saying that maybe it’s better to just leave well enough alone, not for the sake of justice, but for the sake of sanity and for the preservation of the lives of those involved as well as the fragile lies on which those lives are based.

If you haven’t seen Chinatown, you may want to stop reading. From here on out, I’m going to be discussing the film’s conclusion. You see, Chinatown does a number of things the typical sort of film noir detective story avoids (by the way, I want to make an exception for revolutionary noir films like The Maltese Falcon right now). Perhaps most noticeable is the lack of a voice over narration on the part of Gittes. Instead of his flashing back and telling us what’s going on, making sure we’re caught up with what’s going on at every moment, a la Sunset Boulevard, the film simply follows Gittes in his investigation, letting us discover clues as he does so that we can come to the same shocking conclusions he does at the same time he does. Indeed, the film builds to a terrific close that only would have been diluted by the inclusion of omniscient narration, which may well have tipped the hat too early. You see, the film follows Gittes, played by the incomparable Jack Nicholson, as he investigates the murder of the head of the Water Department in Los Angeles. He knows that the man, Hollis was seeing a girl. This girl is of peculiar interest to both Hollis’ widow Evelyn, Faye Dunaway in probably her best film role, and Evelyn’s father, Noah Cross, played by the always terrific John Huston, no relation. Well, Jake eventually starts to have an affair with Evelyn, this is a film noir after all, as he discovers Noah’s plan to buy up huge amounts of unwatered land which he will then run water to and make millions. Meanwhile, this girl is floating around. Soon enough, he figures out that the girl is in a house with Evelyn. Now, here comes the end of the film. Normally, I wouldn’t go into it, but this is a big part of why I love this movie. It’s such a smart, tragic development and it is one of those film scenes, this coming scene when Jake figures it out, that lives in my mind. So, Jake goes to this house and confronts Evelyn. He starts smacking her around, pretty brutally, wanting to know who the girl is. “She’s my sister,” says Evelyn. Smack. “She’s my daughter.” Smack. “She’s my sister.” Smack. “She’s my daughter.” Evelyn is in hysterics, but what she’s saying is the truth. The girl is Evelyn’s sister and her daughter: the product of an affair between herself and her father. In the end, Evelyn tries to take her daughter/sister away in a car. Noah doesn’t want her to go and despite Jake’s accusations and evidence there in the streets of Chinatown, the police won’t arrest Noah. Evelyn speeds of with her and Noah’s daughter. The police aim and fire, killing Evelyn and ensuring that Noah will get a hold of his daughter. There is no justice. No one wins. That’s Chinatown.

39. The Wizard of Oz

2006-03-23T12:13:00.000-05:00

Victor Flemming, Mervyn LeRoy, and King Vidor, 1939

“Ain't it the truth? Ain’t it the truth?”

I hardly think I need to make an argument for this one. Oz is simply one of those classics that you can’t argue. Everyone loves The Wizard of Oz. Everyone. And why not? It’s a hell of a movie. From the black and white, or brown and tan, plains of Kansas to the sparkling, technicolor world of Oz, the movie takes us to a world over the rainbow and far beyond our imaginations. By the way, I expect that line to appear on the back of the next Oz DVD release.

At any rate, it seems pointless to me to pontificate on the merits of The Wizard of Oz. After all, I don’t think there’s anyone left in the world who needs convincing on this score. I thought about talking about how, despite the film’s apparent message, Oz really is a much cooler place to be than Kansas, but that would be a pretty hollow argument. Despite Oz’s technicolor beauty, we all have to admit that, at the end of the day, we would want to go home to the ones we love. I thought about talking about the film’s immortal appeal to children worldwide and how I loved it as a child, but, damn my eyes, I love it still, and so do most adults. So, no news there. I also considered talking about how Oz is one of the few classic films to defy the auteur theory at every step and create an indelible picture without an overriding guiding hand. After all, the picture has three directors and no less than sixteen writers.

No, sir, I wanna talk about my favorite character. When I was little, that was the Tin Woodsman, hands down. I think that has a lot to do with that I just really like robots and Tin Woodsman is, essentially, a robot. Today, though, there’s only one character for me: Cowardly Lion. It’s not that I really have a connection to him or that I’ve developed a deep and abiding love for lions. No, heaven knows it isn’t that. In fact, it’s hard to explain. Certainly, Bert Lahr’s performance is perfect. It’s just that, well, he’s so lovable, so sympathetic. God help me, I just wanna give the big guy a hug. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Cowardly Lion has all the best lines. His comments, in fact his whole “aw shucks” meets easily crumbling bluster personality, are etched on my mind. Let’s take a look, shall we? “I do believe in spooks. I do believe in spooks. I do! I do! I do! I do believe in spooks. I do believe in spooks. I do! I do! I do! I do!” “Put ‘em up, put ‘em up!” “Not nobody. Not nohow.” “I’d thrash him from top to bottomous.” “Shucks, folks, I’m speechless. Ha Ha!” Cowardly Lion also has, in my honest opinion, the best song in the whole feature: “If I Were King of the Forest.” That song, among other bits of brilliance, including Cowardly Lion’s rug cape and flower pot crown, includes this great little speech: “Courage! What makes a king out of a slave? Courage! What makes the flag on the mast to wave? Courage! What makes the elephant charge his tusk in the misty mist, or the dusky dusk? What makes the muskrat guard his musk? Courage! What makes the sphinx the seventh wonder? Courage! What makes the dawn come up like thunder? Courage! What makes the Hottentot so hot? What puts the “ape” in apricot? What have they got that I ain’t got?” “Courage!”

You can say that again.

V for Vendetta

2006-03-20T16:03:00.000-05:00

James McTeigue, 2005

“Remember, remember the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I see no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.”

I’ve decided to break with tradition today and discuss a recent movie. So, anyway, spoilers ahead. Yesterday, I went down to the local cinematheque to see V for Vendetta. I was reasonably excited about this one, especially since I’m a fan of the comic book series it’s based on. V for Vendetta is one of the seminal works of comic book genius Alan Moore and, while previous adaptations of Moore’s work, including From Hell and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, have been, shall we say, less than good, this one certainly looked promising. The plot of V for Vendetta revolves around an enigmatic terrorist, Codename V. V lives in a fascist, future London, ruled over by an oppressive government which slaughters sexual and religious deviants. V knows the inner workings of this establishment and has vowed to bring it down, murdering many of its central figures and blowing up the Old Bailey. Along for the ride is a young woman named Evey, meant to be our window into V’s world. She comes to live with V in his Shadow Gallery, an impressive subterranean home filled with beautiful but banned works of art, old films, and a Wurlitzer. Evey stays with V until she is captured and tortured.

Admittedly, Moore’s original work starts off a bit uneven, if only because it isn’t until a few issues in that Moore, his illustrator David Lloyd, and their editors decided to make this a finite series. Still, once Alan Moore’s V for Vendetta gets going, it really gets going. Sadly, this isn’t the case for the film. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the film. It is certainly very watchable and entertaining throughout. It is, however, terribly uneven. There are snatches of brilliance and points of general mediocrity. While there is more than enough brilliance to rise the film above the standards of the average studio blockbuster, it simply never comes together as it should. That said, this is a very intriguing film, especially for those who have not yet read the comic. There are a lot of ideas here and a lot of questions. The film will certainly inspire numerous conversations between academics, critics, and moviegoers, if only about the central character, who is, essentially, a super-hero terrorist. The film is violent and darkly funny (an homage to Benny Hill had me in hysterics) and, above all, thought provoking. It would be easy to say that this is the time for this film. That now is a time when governments need to be questioned and that is why the film has been made. I don’t think that’s the case, though. For one thing, the comic was written in the eighties and the Wachowski’s began planning a film version even before the first Matrix. No, I would argue that the themes here are enduring and universal. Questions are asked that seem pertinent in any time.

As I said, though, this is a very uneven film. The highs are very high, though. Particularly good is Evey’s abduction and torture, crosscut with the life story of fellow inmate Valerie. This sequence is just as powerful on the screen as it is on the page. The visuals are excellent, particularly the somewhat ritualistic, and possibly analogous to Christ, shaving of Evey’s head and the shot of Valerie kissing her lover for the first time, with the sunlight pouring between their faces. Natalie Portman is just terrific throughout this sequence, perfectly portraying a transition from utter fear and hopelessness to acceptance and utter calm. Otherwise, her performance is just as uneven as the film itself.

The other actors are excellent though. Hugo Weaving is terrific as V, brilliantly acting through a full face mask which, without a view of eyes or mouth, could be a huge impediment. Stephen Fry also shows up for a nice turn as a late night talk host, but it’s a bit weird to see him in this movie, especially for us Black Adder fans.

BIG TIME SPOILERS, AHOY! At any rate, much of the rest of the movie feels a bit rushed, with the sequences not given the same opportunity to breathe that they have in the comic. True, the movie is going to be a good deal shorter, but I have the feeling that a more simple, fluid editing style could have fixed this. Further, many of the scenes feel like their pulling punches, which is particularly weird for a film about a super-hero terrorist and a government which has secretly killed scores of its citizens. For example, the comic’s powerful conclusion, in which Evey becomes V, is glossed over, as is most of Finch’s angst and complexity of character as he uncovers a terrifying conspiracy. This is particularly bizarre omission given how well this transformation is foreshadowed in the film’s opening moments. Also disappointing is the loss of High Councilor Adam Sutler (called Adam Susan in the comic) as a character. In the film, Sutler largely only appears on a big screen, shouting at his subordinates. Gone are the sequences of a hollow man, alone in his castle, bizarrely confessing his love to the super computer Fate, also missing from the picture, which helps to run his government. Tragically, the Vicious Cabaret is missing, which I was really looking forward to. We are missing V’s beautiful soliloquy to Lady Justice, which I think is a damn shame and, again, odd.

True, many of these additions would have lengthened the film to the three hour mark, but in a world of Lord of the Rings movies and King Kong, I don’t think that that is the problem it used to be. Most troubling of all is V’s words to Evey near the end of the film. He tells her that he has fallen in love with her. I’m sorry. What? V exists in the comic as asexual. He loves Evey, but not like that and adding that note to the film version just seems wrong. Indeed, if V is anything in the comic, he is gay. How else did he end up in Room 5? Instead of keeping with this, the filmmakers transpose that aspect of the V/Evey relationship with that of the Deitrich/Evey relationship. In the comic, Evey goes to stay with Deitrich, whose name is, I think, Gordon, there, and they have a brief but meaningful relationship. In the film, Deitrich becomes a bit of a heavy handed way to move Evey toward V’s line of thought and is homosexual.

All that said, I do still think this is a pretty good movie and a valiant effort. It is much smarter and infinitely more intriguing than the usual blockbuster fare, such as the trailer for 3 Fast 3 Furious which ran before the film. I am glad it was released. It will no doubt lead to many involved discussions, both about the film as a film and about its ideas. Hopefully, it will get more people to check out Alan Moore’s comic, which is really the finest dystopian novel of any sort since George Orwell. Finally, I predict that V will be the big costume this Halloween and it will be damn cool to see the streets filled with Vs. I probably won’t dress up as the Man from Room 5 myself, but I’ll certainly by a mask. It’d be a hell of a thing to hang on the wall.

40. It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

2006-03-15T23:59:00.000-05:00

Stanley Kramer, 1963

Talk about your who’s who of great comedic actors. It would almost be easier to name who isn’t in this film, but, as they used to say, a great cast deserves another look. Spencer Tracy’s there, sans Hepburn, as the beleaguered police captain who’s been trying to track down a stolen fortune for eons. Milton Berle shows up, sans dress, is one of the guys who finds the dying gangster by the side of the rode and finds out about the loot buried beneath a giant W. Ethel Merman, sans broadway, plays Berle’s brow beating mother in-law, channeling Fred Flintstone’s mother in-law in many ways. Dick Shawn, sans LSD ... well, pretty much the same as LSD, is Ethel Merman’s nutty, hippie dancing son. Terry-Thomas, camp persona firmly intact, is the British military officer who teams up with Uncle Milty. Buddy Hackett, sans off color jokes, is yet another of the dudes. Mickey Rooney shows up, sans Andy Hardy, as Buddy Hacket’s partner in crime. Phil Silvers, Bilko-ness intact, is, well, pretty much a Bilko type who tries to con Jonathan Winters out of his share of the treasure. Jonathan Winters, slightly more mentally advanced than Merth, is a furniture mover who is out for the gangster’s loot and who hilariously tears up a gas station, run by two of the guys who did voices of the sidekick cats from Top Cat. Sid Caesar, sans the Show of Shows, is another man who meets the gangster and competes with his fellows for the fortune on a mad cross country dash (Caesar employs a beat up plane and his car). Edie Adams, sans Columbo, is Mrs. Sid Caesar and gets locked in a hardware store with him. Peter Falk, sans Edie Adams, oddly enough, is another cabbie. Eddie “Rochester” Anderson, sans Jack Benny, is a cab driver. Norman Fell, sans Jack Tripper, is a cop. Don Knotts, also sans Jack Tripper, is a nervous motorist. Jack Benny, sans Rochester, is a calm, if insulted driver. Jerry Lewis, sans Dean Martin, is a crazy motorist. Jim Bakus, sans Lovey, is a drunk, rich pilot whom Buddy and Mickey employ. Buster Keaton, stone face intact, is a crook. Carl Reiner, sans Mel Cooley, is a tower controller, trying to guide Bakus in. The Three Stooges: Moe, Larry, and Curly Joe, sans real Curly, Hell, even sans Shemp, are fire fighters. Finally, Jimmy Durante, nose blissfully intact, literally kicks the bucket just after telling a group of motorists where his giant pile of money is, sparking said mad cap cross country chase.

That is, admittedly, a lot of sanses, but, I think you’ll have to agree, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World is a film that has it all. Plus, it’s totally mad! It’s at least four times as mad as Mad Max. It also happens to be hilarious. The gas station sequence is a comedy classic bar none. You’ve never seen Jonathan Winters until he tears apart a brand new service station in a Hulk like rage. It’s also just spectacular to see all these brilliant comedians and great comedic actors interacting. The only person missing is Groucho Marx, but I’m willing to let that slide since everyone else is here. I don’t expect everyone reading this to know all the actors involved, but, let me tell you, knowing certainly adds to the enjoyment, which is huge. It’s kind of like reading a comic book team-up of your favorite heroes. It’s not Superman meets Green Lantern. It’s not Batman meets Wonder Woman. This is bigger. In fact, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World is like the Justice League of comedy and you can’t beat that.

41. 12 Angry Men

2006-03-15T00:07:00.000-05:00

Sidney Lumet, 1957

Twelve. That’s a lot of angry men. It also happens to be the number of men who sit on a jury, which happens to be what this movie is about. The film begins with a jury returning to their room to deliberate a murder case. It all seems cut and dry and, so, an initial vote is taken. Eleven vote guilty. One votes not guilty. This is Juror #8, played by the great Henry Fonda. Every one is ready to send this young convicted murderer to his death, except for old Henry. This isn’t to say that Henry doesn’t think the man is guilty; he just wants to take a good, hard look at the case before sending a man to his death. So it goes. The jurors, many of the reluctant and/or eager to get home or to the baseball game, take a long look at the case and slowly begin to see it’s many holes, like in the dynamic bit where Fonda stabs a switchblade knife into the conference table, a knife identical to the supposedly rare knife found at the murder scene.

12 Angry Men is an extraordinarily compelling film about standing up for what you believe in in the face of great pressure. That pressure, by the way, is brilliantly realized by setting the film only in the deliberation room. We do not see the trial. There is only a brief scene of the judge instructing the jury at the beginning and a brief epilogue on the courthouse steps. Otherwise, the film is shot entirely within a room just big enough for twelve. Tempers quickly run high and subtle, but undeniable feeling of claustrophobia permeates the film. Director Sidney Lumet even changed the focal length over the course of the film to make it seem as though the walls were closing in on the actors.

Another tactic Lumet used here was to rehearse his actors constantly in linear run throughs, as if rehearsing for a play instead of a film. I believe the film was also largely shot in order, letting emotions and tempers rise more naturally. Of course, this would be impossible without a great cast and 12 Angry Men certainly has one of the finest casts ever assembled. All twelve are great actors and, while some are men I’ve never really heard of, we’ve got a real who’s who of greats here, which won’t be topped, well, until we look at tomorrow’s film. Still, along with Fonda, you have Martin Balsam, Lee J. Cobb, E. G. Marshall, a young Jack Klugman, and the original Ed Begley. Each man is perfect in his role and the way each adds to the interpersonal dynamics which drive the film is brilliant.

Honestly, I don’t have much more to say here. It really is a brilliant and thoroughly compelling film. I think, if you put it in, you’ll find yourself immediately drawn into the personal drama and the ongoing courtroom goings ons. The hour and a half absolutely flies by. Great stuff.

42. The Magnificent Ambersons

2006-03-14T00:05:00.000-05:00

Orson Welles, 1942

“Something had happened. A thing which, years ago, had been the eagerest hope of many, many good citizens of the town, and now it had come at last; George Amberson Mainafer had got his comeuppance.”

The magnificence of the Ambersons began in 1873, or so Orson Welles’ opening narration tells us. The film then proceeds to chronicle not the family’s rise, but their inevitable decline as their old monied arrogance falls, and falls hard, in the face of neuvo riche industrialism. Standing in the face of this decline is Major Amberson, Richard Bennett in his final performance, the aging head of the household, his daughter Isabel, somewhat broken by the death of her husband and the incredible selfishness of her son George Amberson Mainafer, played excellently by Tim Holt. The film revolves mostly around Eugene, Joseph Cotten as Isabel’s true love from before her first marriage, returning to town to open an automobile plant. He brings his daughter, Lucy, with him. The film then follows Eugene’s rise and the Ambersons’ decline from once great family to near destitution. Along with this is the story of Eugene’s attempts to reconnect with a clearly willing Isabel. In fact, Eugene and Isabel would almost certainly get married, if not for the emotional bullying of George, who wants to keep his mother all to himself and away from an ordinary man like Eugene. The performances here are all terrific, but the stand out work is done by Agnes Moorehead. You might remember Ms Moorehead from her roles as Charles Foster Kane’s mother in Citizen Kane and, who am I kidding, as Endora on Bewitched. Agnes plays Fanny Amberson here, Isabel’s spinster sister and a woman filled with just as much unreasonable hatred as George, although it is an often more subtle, and complicated hatred. Fanny is a woman broken by years of disappointment and Moorehead captures her perfectly. For her work, Agnes was nominated for an Academy Award for best supporting actress and won best actress from the New York Film Critics.

As great as the story, characters, and performances are in this film, it is, in many ways, only the dream of a great film. Don’t get me wrong, everything behind the camera is just as perfect. The cinematography is fantastic, including some great deep focus staging, as in the kitchen scene with George and Fanny, and the direction is exceptional. Watching this movie, it is clear that Welles really was at the top of his craft in this period and Ambersons certainly had all the potential to be the perfect follow up to Citizen Kane. That was not to be, however. After the fiasco in which William Randolf Hearst tried to bury Citizen Kane, RKO was less interested in granting Welles carte blanche with this film. He would not have the final cut say he had with his previous film. Still, Welles entrusted the final editing of Ambersons to Robert Wise. With that, Welles took off for South America to shoot the documentary It’s All True. While he was away, the studio began to look at Welles’ cut of the picture and set up test screenings. The screenings went horribly. Audiences of specifically average movie goers were brought in, who either didn’t understand or resented the film’s artistic qualities. RKO panicked, as did Robert Wise, Joseph Cotton, and Agnes Moorehead. Welles tried to console them and fight for his cut by telegram, but simply wasn’t able to return to Hollywood to fight for it in person. Without Welles around, the studio began to aggressively recut the film and decided to shoot extra scenes. In an attempt to save something of his film, Welles wired suggested cuts and a few new scenes to Hollywood. These were ignored. The result was that the film, which initially ran 148 minutes, was cut to 88 minutes and new ending, featuring an uncharacteristically cherry Fanny, was added. Watching the film today, the first half or so is pretty much as Welles intended and that half is terrific. In the second half, some brilliant, crucial scenes remain, such as the depiction of George’s comeuppance and the final mournful thoughts of Major Amberson, sitting alone in the dark. Otherwise, the entire second half moves at a breakneck speed, as huge chunks of action are clearly missing. The new ending is clearly tacked on, lacking the subtle acting of the rest of the film and even the visual style. Don’t get me wrong, this is still a very watchable film and one I like a lot, but the flaws are very evident. Still, there is more than enough here to see what Welles intended and that would have been an utterly brilliant film. For the record, no known copy of the original cut of The Magnificent Ambersons exists. Because of that, we will likely only have the dream of this film.

43. Superman: The Movie

2006-03-12T14:31:00.000-05:00

Richard, Donner, 1978

“You’ve got me? Who’s got you?”

I believe a man can fly and I always have. Superman has always been my favorite super-hero. I remember my Superman action figure from when I was a kid and the special mail order only Clark Kent I still have. I remember the little spaceship toy I had for him. It didn’t matter that Superman doesn’t need a spaceship; it was his anyway. I remember going to the mall with my parents and watching an odd little one man stage show featuring the man of steel himself, right there, in person. Lex Luthor had rigged an elaborate plan using Kryptonite dust to steal his memory and us kids had to remind Superman who he was. I remember the big book of black and white Superman reprints I had constantly checked out from the New Carlisle library and I remember getting in trouble for reading it when I should have paid attention to class. To this day, I know of no greater mythology than Superman: the planet Krypton, which was his home, his Kryptonian parents, Jor-El and Lara, his earth parents, Jon and Martha, his adventures as Superboy in Smallville, his first tragic meeting with Lex Luthor, his childhood love Lana Lang, the creation of Bizarro, the arrival of Krypto, adventures in the 30th Century with the Legion of Super-Heroes, moving to Metropolis to work at the Daily Planet, where he met Perry White and Jimmy Olsen and fell in love with Lois Lane, the arrival of Brainiac, Mr. Mxyzptlk, the Bottle City of Kandor, Metallo, his cousin, Kara Zor-El, Supergirl, and so much more.

It is no surprise, then, that I would love Superman: The Movie. It pretty much has a pass. Even if it were a really mediocre effort, it would still be amazing to see the last son of Krypton live and breathe and move on the screen. Luckily for all of us, it’s a superb movie, an incredible adaptation to the screen. From those first moments on the barren planet Krypton, with Marlon Brando as Jor-El, you enter a fantastic world where anything is possible. Brando is terrific and Gene Hackman is excellent as the scheming Lex Luthor, but the core of this movie is Christopher Reeve. He is so incredibly sincere in his performance as a man who only wants two things: to help mankind and to be one of them. He works perfectly both as Superman, exuding an offhanded confidence in himself and his powers, and as Clark Kent, the bumbling facade which protects his friends from retribution. The effects are great, too, and I think still hold up today. When Superman flies, you can almost believe it’s true. It would be so easy to fill this movie full of corny, campy performances, but no one does. Everyone on screen believes and commits to the super powered man in blue tights and red underwear.

The film also has just so many great set pieces, which perfectly display how Superman should be. The whole sequence when he saves Lois from the helicopter crash is great, as is the part where he secretly uses his powers, while disguised as Clark, to save her from a mugging. I love the whole early montage where Superman stops a robber walking up the side of the building, stops a drug shipment on a boat, and then takes the place of one of Air Force One’s jet engines during an electrical storm. And, even though it gets a lot of crap, I dig the part where Superman turns back time itself to save Lois’ life. This movie gets Superman in ways that so many other efforts miss the mark. It honors him and respects him and gives us a living, breathing hero to cheer on, if only for two hours.

44. Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn

2006-03-09T23:35:00.000-05:00

Sam Raimi, 1987

“Groovy.”

What a great movie. Honestly, there are few movies that are more shameless and fun than this. The film opens in a recap of the first movie, the aptly titled The Evil Dead. Ash and his girl friend go up to a cabin in Michigan. Unfortunately, the basement of the cabin holds the Necronomicon ex Mortis, the Book of the Dead. Ash foolishly reads aloud from the book, releasing all manner of evil into the woods. The evil quickly kills and then possesses his girl friend. Ash has to lop her head off with a shovel. Yeah. It’s pretty awesome already, isn’t it? And this is only like the first four or five minutes. From there on out, the evil sets its sights squarely on old Ash. Ash, by the way, is played by Bruce Campbell. You may remember Bruce as the lead from Bubba Ho-Tep. He is, without a doubt, the finest B movie actor working today. Instantly and effortlessly charming and possessed of both a sharp wit and enough stupidity to get himself in trouble, Ash is the perfect horror film protagonist.

Soon enough, the evil has repossessed and resurrected Ash’s dead, and headless, girl friend, resulting in a very eerie dance performed by an already suspiciously decomposed corpse. When she pirouettes, her head stays in one place, unturning. So cool. Well, Ash defeats her, but not before she bites his head. Now Ash has to fight his hand, possessed by the evil. What follows is some of the finest slapstick comedy of the last twenty years. Ash wrestles with his own hand, tackling it to the ground until the hand gets the, well, the upper hand and knocks Ash silly by breaking plates over his head in the sink. Keep in mind, this is Ash’s own hand, attached to him. It’s hilarious. This is the film’s great strength. It is by far the film that most effortlessly blends grueling horror with uproarious comedy that I have ever seen. It’s perfect. At one moment, the screen is covered with blood and the next a man fights his own hand. Before long, Ash is forced to lop off his hand with a hatchet. This just means that he has to fight a rather whiley disembodied hand in a sort of Tom and Jerry manner. Horror returns to the picture soon after as Ash continues to go nutty, tormented by the cackling animal heads, stuffed and mounted on the cabin wall. Before long there are also more than enough zombies, full ones and not just hands, for Ash to contend with. This leads to the greatest weapon ever in the history of film. Ash goes out to the tool shed and fastens a chainsaw to his still bloody stump.

At any rate, I don’t get to this often, so let’s take a look at those drive-in totals. We’ve got two zombie breasts. Six dead bodies. Blood-spewing. Zombie detached-hand attack. Hand spearing. Hand sawing. Flying-eyeball swallowing. Fruit-cellar demon attacks. Zombie axing. Heads roll. Hands roll. Everything rolls. Glopola City. Double-barrel sawed-off shotgun blast through the eyes of a demon Fu. With Dan Hicks as the redneck guide searching for his dead girlfriend, Kassie Weslye as the girl who gets raped, pillaged and murdered by the woods (not IN the woods, BY the woods). Campbell has the classic line: “Am I fine? We just cut up our girlfriends with a chainsaw. Does that sound fine? Four stars. Joe Bob and I say check it out.

A quick final note: Gordon Parks, the director of Shaft, died Tuesday at the age of 93. This is decidedly ungroovy. I urge all cats to not cop out, especially when there’s danger all about, in his memory.

45. Orpheus

2006-03-09T13:25:00.000-05:00

Jean Cocteau, 1950

“I am letting you into the secret of all secrets, mirrors are gates through which death comes and goes.”

The French title of this film is Orphee, with a little dealie bobber over the last e, which I don’t know how to make on my keyboard. Anyway, as that implies, this is a French movie and probably my favorite foreign language film of all time. It is not my favorite foreign film, however, but more on that down the list. Plot wise, this is pretty much a modern update of the Greek myth of Orpheus. Jean Marais, the director’s long-time lover, plays Orphee, a tragically hip poet in postwar France. Before long, Orphee learns that he has caught the attention of The Princess, Death. Why, I am never sure, although I guess he’s kind of hunky. Anyway, The Princess wants Orphee to come live with her in the underworld, a place made up of bombed out ruins and accessible by walking through mirrors in what is a damn neat effect.

The mirror effect isn’t alone, either; this is a damn good looking movie. Jean Cocteau, the director, was a sort of renaissance man, known as a painter, poet, and film maker. It is not surprising then that his films, which include a version of Beauty and the Beast which is supposed to be just spectacular, and Testament of Orpheus, a sort of sequel in which Cocteau himself interacts with his characters, are utterly poetic. Everything flows in these movies and everything is beautiful. What is more: they don’t make a great deal of sense. The plots are often fairly loose, giving way to the more important visual aspect of the film and its philosophical ideas.

Anyway, The Princess eventually gets honked off enough to have her henchmen, a couple of fascist looking, jackbooted motorcyclists, kill and carry off Orphee’s wife, Eurydice. Orphee enters the underworld with the help of Heurtebise, The Princess’s guy Friday or something who secretly loves her. There, Orphee convinces The Princess to let him take Euridyce back to Earth on the condition that Orphee never look at her again. The two spend a while palling around the house before Orphee blows it and looks at her.

So, yeah, it’s kind of a weird plot and a little thin. There’s also this bit where Orphee finds he can tune into these weird coded messages on his car radio that give him the lines to brilliant poems, ostensibly written by a dead rival. Also, it might not be his car, it might be The Princesses. I don’t remember. At any rate, what I’m trying to say is that it’s a really surreal film, but also an easily accessible one. I also really like what it says, symbolically, about the nature of art and creativity and how the artist, be he poet or filmmaker, is always beholden to his art. You see, I tend to look at the Princess as both death and art. She is always there, the ultimate seductress who you can never fully escape and, often, don’t want to. I will say this, though, the film does certainly seem to suggest that death/art is the ultimate lover for the artist, Orphee, and that no mortal woman, Eurydice, can ever be good enough. While that may be, and certainly does seem to be, Cocteau’s belief, I don’t particularly care for it. I’m not one for forsaking the mortal world for art. Rather, I’m much more about the union of the two, using one to enrich the other and always sharing your art with those around you and those you love in particular. Anything else may give you brilliance, I suppose, but it’ll also leave you damn lonely and, I think, seperate you from a rich source of potential inspiration. We all need our muses, after all. Still, it’s one hell of a movie, a beautifully, poetic, modern myth that is well worth the watching.

The 78th Annual Academy Awards

2006-03-07T23:49:00.000-05:00

Well kids, the Oscars hit our screens, and possibly our hearts, this past Sunday and what sort of Production Dude would I be if I didn't take a little time out to tell you all about 'em. Let's start with the obvious: this year's host, Jon Stewart. Jon was, well, he was okay. The overall feeling of his opening monologue was less than that of an average episode of The Daily Show, but it was still all right and his jokes certainly picked up as the night wore on. The problem, I think, wasn't really Jon himself, but the venue. I just don't think that Jon Stewart at the Academy Awards is a good idea. Jon brought his usual wit and his standard, purposefully awkward delivery style with him and they just didn't seem to fit the event. As Stewart made scathing comments about the Hollywood elite, including attacks on Nicole Kidman, the Baldwins, and Scientology, and followed many of them with his usual uncomfortable, pregnant pauses, the audience just wasn't responding. They wanted safe, conventional jokes and Stewart wasn't really delivering those. He wasn't really pulling off a Lenny Bruce or any thing either, but jokes like calling Walk the Line "Ray with white people," just didn't go over. Don't get me wrong, I thought that one was damn funny, but Joaquin Phoenix looked pretty pissed. Still, Stewart was enjoyable and the pre-taped bits he prepared were often hilarious, including mock up political attack ads for the best actress contenders.

As for the other pre-taped segments, that is the montages, they were pretty good, but most of them begged the question: why? I dig a salute to film noir, even if its introduced by a shockingly uncomfortable Lauren Bacall, or a salute to Cinerama, but I'm not sure what precipitated them. They seemed to be there without reason. The one thing I loved unequivocally this year was something I don't usually care for: the look of the ceremony. The camera work and everything was standard for the event, but I absolutely adored the set, a shimmering, glamorous imagining of the old picture palaces, done up in the subtle beauty of subdued whites and blues. There were also scrolling picture frames and great interstitials featuring the names of the award and disembodied hands visualizing the category against a black background. The whole thing had the dignified class of a Freed Unit musical and I expected Gene Kelly to waltz across the stage at any moment. Additionally, I'm not usually a who was wearing who kind of guy, but I just wanna say that Nicole Kidman was absolutely gorgeous. I think she's pretty super anyway, but she was in this simple, strapless white gown that just made her look so elegant. Sigh. Nicole? I don't know if you read this, but, if you do, marry me.

Well, now we may as well settle in for the long haul and take a look at the individual awards. I'll pair 'em up for your benefit with my predictions from a month or so ago.

Best Supporting Actor
Predicted: George Clooney
Actual: George Clooney

So, George Clooney wins Oscar's bronze medal. Good for him. The supporting actor Oscar is, historically, an apology. It's the, we're sorry we couldn't give you a different award, like best director for Goodnight and Good Luck, but we have some lovely parting gifts for you. Here's Carol Merrill to show you what you've won instead …

Visual Effects
Predicted: King Kong
Actual: King Kong

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times. That is one convincing monkey.

Best Animated Feature
Predicted: Wallace and Gromit in The Curse of the Were-Rabbit
Actual: Wallace and Gromit in The Curse of the Were-Rabbit

That's right, I got three in a row. That, my friends, is what we call a hat trick. No surprises here. With the exception of most of Pixar's output, this was the best animated picture in years. Funny, charming, the whole ball of wax. On a side note, I don't know if anyone else saw Tim Burton on the red carpet (he was there for Corpse Bride), it was awkward. It was kind of like Carrie, in a way. You know, the ugly geeky person invited to the gathering of cool people. Where do you get off Burton? Thinkin' your cool. He's just asking for pig's blood.

Live Action Short
Predicted: ???????
Actual: Six Shooter

It seems like I could make a Dick Cheney joke here. I won't, though.

Best Animated Short
Predicted: ??????
Actual: The Moon and the Son: An Imagined Convesation

Whatever happened to the days when stuff you'd seen, like "What's Opera, Doc?" won this award. The Moon and the Son? Look, unless one of your characters gets hit by a mallet or, say, forty cream pies, I don't wanna hear it. Still, I would like to repeat my plea to theater chains nation wide. Hey, jackass, why don't you show some of these shorts before the movie? If I see one more Bod Man commercial on the big screen … well, I might go out and buy some Bod Man and no one wants that.

Costume Design
Predicted: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Actual: Memoirs of a Geisha

So, somebody won an Oscar for dressing up the Asian chick from Tomorrow Never Dies like a hooker. A classy hooker maybe, but a hooker none the less. Honestly, what's next? Pretty Woman II: Pretty Woman Goes to Japan (possibly with the Bad News Bears)? Actually, that would be pretty awesome.

Makeup
Predicted: The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
Actual: The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

I once saw a thing on Dateline where they rescued these poor uber-Mormon girls from the semi-captivity of their parents. One of the first things they did was take them to a movie. The movie they chose? Never Been Kissed with Drew Barrymore. Come on. That's just gonna scare them back home. Drew Barrymore? Yeesh. She looks like the Man in the Moon from A Trip to the Moon. Now, if it were me, you'd have to take them to something like this. Not only are they dazzled by convincing looking goat dudes (he said trying to tie the rant into the best makeup thing), but you whip a little Christianity on 'em too. Everybody wins.

Supporting Actress
Predicted: Rachel Weisz
Actual: Rachel Weisz

I haven't seen The Constant Gardener, which is the film she won for, but I hear she's good. Best performance of her career. Mind you, the rest of her career includes The Mummy and The Mummy Returns, so that isn't saying a lot.

Documentary Short
Predicted: ????????
Actual: A Note of Triumph: The Golden Age of Norman Corwin

How on God's green earth, did Layer 18,653 not win? Ball of paint, dude.

Documentary Short
Predicted: Street Fighter
Actual: March of the Penguins

You know, this category used to be a total crap shoot, but, between this award and Bowling for Columbine a couple of years back, the category is growing more and more populist. Still, my guess was based on Street Fighter being a doc about Capcom's classic fighting game. It wasn't. Had it been, it would have won. Unless the penguins were playing as E. Honda. They're awesome as E. Honda.

Art Direction
Predicted: Memoirs of a Geisha
Actual: Memoirs of a Geisha

Hey, I'm doing pretty good with these predictions. This one seemed to be begging for the art direction Oscar though. I haven't seen this film, but I was hoping it would win best score to. The way I see it, it either has one of those really cheesy Toho Film scores, with lots of drums and things announcing the coming of Mothra, or just an endless loop of Live at Budokan.

Original Score
Predicted: Munich
Actual: Brokeback Mountain

I don't really have anything to say here. Although, I do wonder, in film composing circles, when a guy comes up with something really good, how often do you suppose some jackass says, "He shoots; he scores!"

Sound Mixing
Predicted: Walk the Line
Actual: King Kong

Sound mixing, for the uninitiated, involves placing sound, and lime, in a coconut and shaking it all up.

Original Song
Predicted: "The Glory of Love" from Karate Kid II
Actual: "It's Hard out Here for a Pimp" from Hustle and Flow

Damn. I thought for sure this was Peter Cetera's year. Still, Bill Conti, who wrote "You're the Best Around," the single from Karate Kid, was the conductor for the house orchestra at the Oscars. So, in a weird way, I was sort of close. Meanwhile, the win for "It's Hard out Here for a Pimp" was the only real surprise of the night. Rap music had better look out; it's dangerously close to becoming respectable. On a side note, when this won, did we really have to cut to shots of every black actor in the audience?

Sound Editing
Predicted: King Kong
Actual: King Kong

That's one convincing sounding monkey.

Foreign Film
Predicted: Tsotsi
Actual: Tsotsi

I haven't seen it, but I hear it's pretty good. So, yay, I guess.

Film Editing
Predicted: Crash
Actual: Crash

Um … let's see there has to be a joke here somewhere. Oh boy. Oh! You suppose they used crash editing?! That was pretty lame. No one even knows what that is.

Actor
Predicted: Philip Seymour Hoffman
Actual: Philip Seymour Hoffman

What can I say? He was freaking great! If Capote were alive today, he'd, well, he'd probably say something kind of clever and really smarmy right now.

Cinematography
Predicted: Brokeback Mountain
Actual: Memoirs of a Geisha

Again, I haven't seen Geisha, but the cinematography in Brokeback was spectacular. From what I've seen of Geisha, that movie just looks so pedestrian. Feh.

Actress
Predicted: Reese Witherspoon
Actual: Reese Witherspoon

Come on. We all knew she'd win, but she's such a hack. Really. She's so sickeningly sweet and, well, white. Honestly, she's the whitest actress around. When she won and started going on about her dream of being a country singer, well, I became instantly diabetic. Kind of like my grandma. Still, I can't wait till she's down on her luck and sh has to team with the candy people to make Reese's Witherspoons.

Adapted Screenplay
Predicted: Capote
Actual: Brokeback Mountain

To really judge this accurately, I would have had to read the books and, while I do read, what I'm reading right now is Joe Bob Goes Back to the Drive In. That said, it's pretty unlikely I'm going to get off my ass and read either of these, especially when there's a whole pile of Superman comics waiting at home.

Original Screenplay
Predicted: Crash
Actual: Crash

Looks like someone took a crash course in screenwriting!

Directing
Predicted: Ang Lee
Actual: Ang Lee

Good for him. Ang's a really good director and this is probably his finest work. It's more subtle than Crouching Tiger and much more subtle than Hulk and it has a butt load (no pun intended, really) of emotional resonance. Hell of a job, Ang.

Picture
Predicted: Brokeback Mountain
Actual: Crash

Huh. Crash won. Can't say I'm really surprised. As much as people are talking about it being the big surprise of Oscar night, it wasn't. As Oscar neared, Crash got more and more word of mouth. Crash's problem was always that it had been released too early for the Academy to remember and, by the end, it was clear this had been remedied. I still think Brokeback is the better movie, but Crash was excellent too. At the end of the day, I just don't care about either so strongly to care either way. So long as one won, I'm fine with it.

By the way, I got 13 out of 23 right and I didn't even guess, or guess seriously, on several. Pretty damn good.

46. From Russia with Love

2006-03-04T22:00:00.000-05:00

Terence Young, 1963

This is the second of MGM’s hugely successful James Bond films and it stars the best Bond of them all, Sean Connery. It may also be the best Bond film of them all. It is certainly my favorite. You see, this movie comes prepackaged with all the great things about the Connery Bond films. Exotic locations? Check. Most of this one is set in Turkey, which really looks lovely here. I’m also a big fan of the gypsy camp Bond hangs out in. Beautiful women? In abundance. You get the innocent Russian dupe Tatiana Romanova, Sylvia Trench following up her small role in Dr. No, Kerim Bey’s gorgeous wife, and, of course, the gypsy girls. I really like gypsies. Then there’s the class. Like The Pink Panther, these films are imbued with that sixties idea of class that is just impeccable. Everything is very plush and beautiful. The men wear suits and the women wear gorgeous dresses. Everything is expensive and wine flows like water. Bond himself is cultured beyond belief and the world of the super rich seems ordinary for two hours. Of course, this isn’t the super rich of today, filled with 24 hour raves and Paris Hilton wanna bes, but you grandfather’s idea of classy, which tends to involve a lot of quiet evenings and hats. It’s an aesthetic I adore. Really, and I recognize that this won’t mean anything to some of you, it’s a lot like Playboy After Dark and I think that’s great. Further, this particular idea of Bond and his world is distinct from the Roger Moore films and other, later entries. These films are very adult. They are often very smart and concerned with complicated plots of move and counter move that as often involve sitting down and thinking things through as they do going out and blowing stuff up. They are violent and sexy. Of course, they’re nothing compared to today's levels of violence and sex, but, for the sixties, these were meant for a very sophisticated and very adult audience. This is Bond for mom and dad. It wouldn’t be until Roger Moore’s films that Bond would become a family character.

Another big reason I like this one best is the villainy here. This is one of the SPECTRE films and I always like the idea of pitting Bond and MI-6 against a rival organization. Blowfeld is here, but he’s pretty much a background character, which is how I prefer him. Rosa Klebb, the Russian with the knives in her shoes, is also terrific. Best of all, though, is Robert Shaw as Red Grant, Bond’s opposite number. Grant serves as Bond’s nemesis in a way that has never really been equaled. Sure, other films have tried the idea, notably Scaramanga in The Man with the Golden Gun and 006 in GoldenEye, but neither really work as well as Grant. The same should be said of Blowfeld. Blowfeld is a welcome master mind, but he’s really more M’s opposite number than Bond’s. Like Bond, Grant is an agent, a man with a mission. He is trained to the peak of his profession, which, of course, is killing. He isn’t terribly cultured, in fact his lack of knowledge of fine wine is what ends up giving him away, but I’m not sure Bond’s nemesis should be cultured. He is a cold blooded killer, a version of Bond himself without humanity or a real sense of self. Where Bond is the consummate gentleman, Grant is the ultimate animalistic killer. He is concerned with himself and his mission. He could hardly care which of his SPECTRE cohorts die and one gets the sense that he’d gladly work for MI-6 if they’d let him kill at his discretion.

On a final note, there are a number of people out there who will tell you that On Her Majesty’s Secret Service is the best of the Bond films. They will tell you that this is because its the only one to really offer character development (in the form of Bond marrying Emma Peel from The Avengers) and the only one to have Bond show emotion (he cries at the end when Mrs. Peel buys it. Did I ruin it for you? So sorry.). Their one concession is that George Lazenby, replacing Connery for one film, sucks ass as Bond. Well, my friends, there’s your problem. I suppose On Her Majesty’s Secret Service may be a fine film in its own right, but it isn’t a good Bond film. A good Bond film requires one thing above all others: Bond. Lazenby isn’t Bond. Bond doesn’t marry and Bond doesn’t cry, particularly the Bond of the sixties. I know what you’re saying, “But doesn’t that curb depth and isn’t depth a good thing?” Hey, depth is a great thing, but with the Bond movies depth has always resided in the plot and the bigger picture. Bond himself is, within each actor’s particular portrayal, the constant. True, that may limit things occasionally, but that has never been the point of Bond. Bond was developed by Ian Flemming to be candy for the adult mind and there’s nothing wrong with that. Sure, pop corn movies like Armageddon can suck, but some pop corn is really good and I’m not sure it needs to be anything more, at least not in the case of 007.

47. Sunset Blvd

2006-03-02T20:27:00.000-05:00

Billy Wilder, 1950

“I am big. It’s the pictures that got small.”

In the great role call of memorable film characters, Norma Desmond must rank near the top. Sunset Blvd is the story of Miss Desmond’s career having long set. It is the story of a once great actress who cannot face the reality that the world has passed her by. Gloria Swanson plays Norma Desmond, a faded idol of silent pictures. Miss Desmond lives in a forgotten mansion, surrounded by the faded glories of her past. Her massive car no longer runs. Her pool is empty. The facade of her home is chipping away, covered in overgrowth. Inside are ornate fixtures and hundred of framed publicity stills of no one but her. She lives her life alone with her butler, Max. Once in a while, she is joined by other faded and forgotten stars, including the great Buster Keaton, for a game of cards. Her only other companion is a monkey and, when the movie begins, the monkey is dead.

Enter Joe Gillis, a down on his luck screenwriter. Desmond brings him into her home, forcing him to work on her bizarre script of Salome and treating him as her own live in boy toy, a role which, for most of the film, he is happy to play. This film is probably the greatest tragedy of classic Hollywood. Desmond’s star has fallen and she can’t see it. Gillis’ star is falling and he’s all to aware of it. Max’s star fell with Desmond’s, he was once both her lover and director, and now, he sits around, watching his love continue to deteriorate even as he is pushed aside for a younger man.

As easy as it is to look at Desmond and shake our heads at her inability to see reality, it is, in many ways, not her fault. She is vain. She is egotistical, but her undoing is not entirely her own. After all, it was the idolization of a million fans who made her that way and the fickle nature which left her how she ended up. It was a Hollywood with no sense of the past that destroyed Desmond. Perhaps she deserved her fall, but it’s all so tragic that you can’t help but pity her and that is the real core of Sunset Blvd. Sunset Blvd, in many ways, reflects the very real Hollywood that uses people and then throws them away, whether this is with big stars like Desmond or with screenwriters like Gillis. The film also contains a young woman named Betty Schaefer, a budding screenwriter herself who helps Gillis realize his remaining potential, but for whom we worry the same fate may someday come. The card playing scene is particularly heartbreaking as we see authentic stars of the silent era, particularly Buster Keaton, and remember how quickly they were forgotten and how few people even today remember their contributions. The toughest scene of all, though, is the end. Desmond has come completely unhinged. For the first time in years, she is the subject of media attention, thanks to the death of Joe Gillis (don’t worry, you find out he’s dead in the film’s first few lines). Her home is crawling with reporters. In her dementia, she comes from her room, believing herself on a movie set. She begins to regally decent the stairs, this poor, faded relic. Max immediately takes control of the floor, returning to his old role and ordering the camera men to follow Desmond. Desmond reaches the bottom of the stairs and says, “And I promise you I’ll never desert you again because after Salome we’ll make another picture and another picture. You see, this is my life! It always will be! Nothing else! Just us, the cameras, and those wonderful people out there in the dark! ... All right, Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my close-up.” The close-up will never come, neither will Salome or the other pictures. This isn’t Miss Desmond’s life. It hasn’t bee for years. After all, it wasn’t she who abandoned us. We abandoned her and she went insane. This is the dark side of Hollywood and of fame, my friends. Both can build you up and make you feel like the greatest person in the world. That is the dream, isn’t it? And Norma Desmond got to live it. Yet, in the end, both tossed her aside and the price for their patronage was that they left nothing behind.

48. It Happened One Night

2006-02-27T20:47:00.000-05:00

Frank Capra, 1934

“Well, I proved once and for all that the limb is mightier than the sword.”

From the director of It’s a Wonderful Life, one of the most charming films ever made, comes one of the most charming screwball comedies of all time. It Happened One Night is certainly one of the American cinema’s classic comedies. For what it’s worth, it’s one of the few comedies to win the Academy Award for Best Picture. It was also the first film of any sort to win Oscar’s grand slam: Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Director, and Best Screenplay. Watching it, it’s no wonder. This is a pitch perfect film. The story concerns a young heiress, played by the always delightful Claudette Colbert, who runs away from home in order to marry King Westley. A quick note about King Westley: I have no idea if he is supposed to be the king of something or if it’s just a name, like King Vidor. All I know for sure is that he shows up for the climax in an autogyro. An autogyro? Who does this guy think he is? The Shadow? Howard Hughes? Screw him. Anyway, Claudette wants to marry the guy, but her daddy doesn’t want her to. I’m with dad. On her way across the country, a trip which she is entirely unprepared for, spoiled rich girl that she is, she runs into a tabloid journalist, Clark Gable. Gable, smelling one hell of a story, decides to escort Claudette across the country, whether she wants him to or not. She doesn’t. Along the trip, which heavily involves buses and hitch hiking and the wonderful original song, “Young People in Love Are Very Seldom Hungry!” Gable finds out just how unprepared Claudette is. She has, like five bucks for the whole trip, which she is more than happy to squander on chocolates. She expects the bus to wait for her, even when she arrives “only” twenty minutes late. Well, she and Gable start traveling together and, wouldn’t you know it, they fall in love. Of course, what screwball comedy would be complete without a climax where in both lovers, through a stupid misunderstanding, come to believe that the other has rebuked them? Don’t worry, that’s right here.

It’s a damn fun movie, and really funny, too. Gable and Colbert couldn’t be more charming. They work incredibly well and both bring a set of comic timing that is absolutely immaculate, especially for this sort of story. There are a number of great set pieces, including a couple of rode side motels, which involve the “wall of Jericho,” the bus, and hay field where the two spend the night. The film is also occupied by a terrific, and often zany, supporting cast. King Westley is a great screen bastard, complete with more money than God, pencil mustache, and an ego to rival William Shatner. Walter Connolly, who also plays the dad in Libeled Lady, another favorite of mine, is Claudette’s dad. He’s great, the big, old guy sort who just wants to see his daughter happy, money be damned. Then there’s Oscar Shapeley. “You know, there’s nothing I like better than to meet a high-class mama that can snap back at you, ‘cause the colder they are the hotter they get! That’s what I always say, yes sir! When a cold mama gets hot, boy, how she sizzles!” Shapeley isn’t in the movie all that much, but he’s great. To my mind, he’s the stereotypical 30’s ladies man in his own mind type. In fact, I didn’t realize it until the last time I watched the movie, but a good part of my “news reel” voice, aka Charles C. Crackerbarrel, comes from Shapeley. He’s damn memorable is what he is, a great kook who steals every scene he’s in. I’m not the only one to think so either. In fact, Friz Freleng said that Shapeley’s personality was a huge inspiration for Bugs Bunny. Anyway, if you haven’t seen this one, you need to. It’s a classic. Not having seen it is a lot like not having read Huckleberry Finn.

On a sadder note, we lost a couple of greats this past weekend. Both Don Knotts and Darren McGavin passed on. McGavin was born in 1922, Knotts in 1924. Knotts, of course, was a true comic God, known worldwide as both Barney Fife and Ralph Furley. He was also the star of any number of movies, most important to me being The Incredible Mr. Limpet. McGavin is probably best known as the dad in The Christmas Story, but, to me, he will always be Carl Kolchak, the one and only Night Stalker. Gentlemen, I’ll miss you both.

49. The Muppet Movie

2006-02-24T21:51:00.000-05:00

James Frawley, 1979

“Ahh, a bear in his natural habitat - a Studebaker.”

My friends, I’d like to begin today’s column by asking you a question. Why are there so many songs about rainbows? And, while we’re on the subject, what’s on the other side? You know, that opening crane sequence, as the camera descends into the swamp and we find Kermit, amiable green, felt Muppet that he is, sitting on a log, singing this sweet song (which calls the young sailor), well, it’s indelibly etched into my mind. In fact, I so associate this scene with this movie, and with the Muppets in general, that I usually forget that the movie has a whole prelude framing the film as one which the Muppets are themselves watching along with us. It is, as Kermit tells nephew Robin, the story of how the Muppets got together. . . more or less. This movie warms my heart in really absurd ways. I know I went on just yesterday about how heartwarming It’s a Wonderful Life is, and it is, but this one really just does it for me. If you’re watching The Muppet Movie, there’s a smile on your face. End of story. There’s something so perfectly innocent and pure, yet decidedly sophisticated about each and every on of these felt brainchildren of the great Jim Henson, that they immediately speak to you, with both humor and emotion, in a way that most human actors can’t.

Not that the human element is anything to scoff at. Certainly, the Muppets wouldn’t be half of what they are without guys like Dave Goelz, Frank Oz, and, most importantly, Jim Henson. Indeed, ever since Jim passed on, the Muppets haven’t been the same. Oh, sure, there have been some bright spots, A Muppet Christmas Carol is really pretty good, but there have been a lot of down spots, too: Muppets from Space. Still, I respect Brian Henson for carrying on the torch and continuing to give Kermit life. Jim may be gone, but there’s something reassuring in Kermit enduring. Let’s not forget the other humans of this picture though. Without contest, The Muppet Movie has the single finest line up of cameo talent to ever grace the silver screen. Let’s run ‘em down. We get Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy, the grand daddy of all puppets in their final screen appearance, which couldn’t have been more appropriate, Milton Berle as Madman Mooney (I don’t care what you say, every time that Mad Eye Mooney character showed up in Harry Potter and Who Gives a Shit Anymore, I thought of good ol’ Mad Eye Mooney bossing Sweetums around), Mel Brooks as the German scientist, complete with “Prof” written on the back of his coat in Blazing Saddles fashion (“When a German scientist tells you to hold on to your hat, it’s not casual conversation. HOLD ON TO YOUR HAT! HAT! HOLD! Good.”), James Coburn as the owner of the El Sleezo, Dom DeLuise as Bernie the Agent, Elliot Gould presenting Miss Piggy with a beauty pageant trophy, Bob Hope selling dragonfly ripple ice cream, Madeline Kahn, whose concern about getting warts from Kermit sparks one of the film’s many great recurring gags: “It’s a myth! A myth!” A young girl pops up, “Yes?”, Steve Martin as a waiter (“Would you like to smell the bottle cap?”), Richard Pryor as the balloon vendor (“Gah-gah, gah-gah.”), Telly Savalas as Madeline Kahn’s boyfriend, Orson Welles as the studio executive who draws up the “standard rich and famous contract for Kermit the Frog and company,” and Paul Williams, who not only wrote the great original songs, but who may as well be a Muppet himself, as the El Sleezo piano player. Then there’s the whole who’s who of Muppets, from Lew Zealand and his fantastic boomerang fish to Big Bird in his own cameo.

God in heaven, do I love this movie. I really don’t know what else to say. It’s good for yourself, for your sweetie, for the kids, the old folks, even harden cons. Still, I think I’ll give the last words to Beaker: “Meep meep meep meep meep meeee meep meeep meep meep meepp meep meep.” Well said, Beaker. Well said.

50. It's a Wonderful Life

2006-02-22T23:43:00.000-05:00

Frank Capra, 1946

“No man is a failure who has friends.”

Everyone loves this movie. Everyone. And the two of you who don’t? You’re dead to me. Seriously, though, or at least as serious as we get around here, this film is simply unimpeachable. It is, in essence, a stirring testimony to the power of the life of the common man. George Bailey is no superman. He gets angry. He gets depressed. Hell, he even gets suicidal. He is not a rich man. He is not a politician. He is, however, a good man. He is a man who puts the needs of others ever before himself. He is a man who always does what’s right. Oh sure, it would be easy to go to work for Potter, make a little more money, shake the dirt of that crummy old town off his shoes, and see the world, but, then, what would happen to Bedford Falls? He could go off to travel Europe, but then who would run the building and loan? What would happen to the townsfolk whose money is invested there? No, sir, George doesn’t take the easy way out. He takes the right road. That is what makes him a hero.

I’ll tell you what; I’m there for him, too. I sympathize with George Bailey, from beginning to end. He is the average man, but then, so are we all. He’s the kind of guy you want to be and its so heartbreaking when everything crumbles around him, not through any fault of his own, but thanks to the cold, black heart of Potter, played with consummate evil by the great Lionel Barrymore. It’s unbelievably tragic when George realizes that the only way left for him to help people is with his death. Only his insurance money can save the building and loan. Ah, but then, then the big finale. This is probably the most heart warming thing you’ve ever seen in your life. George has been so put down this whole movie, but when he finally really needs help, the whole God damn town turns out. I get choked up every time. I’m getting a little choked up right now. That final scene, when all the townsfolk show up with the money that George needs. . . Holy crap is it touching. That’s right, Clarence. That’s right. No man is a failure who has friends.

The key to this movie, though, has to be two men: Jimmy Stewart, who plays George, and Frank Capra, the director. This movie could so easily have been the cheesiest thing to come down the pipes in years, and, yet, it never even comes close to that. These two guys have crafted a film and a role which are both perfectly sincere. There’s no winking at the camera. There are no painfully saccharine moments. Both men clearly believe in what they’re doing here. Both me clearly believe that every human life is worthy of epic storytelling. It’s a Wonderful Life is a testament to best parts of humanity and I’m proud to have it on my list.

51. Ed Wood

2006-02-21T21:53:00.000-05:00

Tim Burton, 1994

It is with no small amount of irony that I place Ed Wood as my 51st favorite film of all time. After all, Ed Wood really and truly is one of the worst directors in cinema history, right down there with Ray “Leg Up” Kellogg, director of The Giant Gila Monster. I’ve long been something of a crappy movie aficionado, spending hours watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 and even checking out cinematic turds like The Killer Shrews and Pumpkinhead II: Blood Wings in their full on, unadulterated glory on shows like Svengoolie. Yet, the one man whose films remain utterly unwatchable is Edward D. Wood, Jr. My God. My good God. I defy you to sit through Plan 9 from Outer Space. I defy you! You can’t do it. At least not without a quart of absence nearby. Well, that’s probably a little harsh. There are some laughs here. The fact of the matter is, though, that Ed Wood is just one crappy director. His films are full of headstones that topple in a strong wind, lousy performances, crappy, crappy sets, instances of actors reading from their scripts on camera, and, of course, Tor Johnson getting stuck while coming out of his grave. Sigh.

Then, Tim Burton and Johnny Depp conspire to do a biopic on Wood and, God damn it, you just can’t help but fall in love with the goof. The key to this film is that Burton and Depp, who plays Wood, don’t set out to make fun of Wood. Hell, they even handle his notorious cross dressing professionally. Instead, they give us a wood that is an unabashed optimist. Burton pulls no punches in exhibiting Wood’s directorial ineptitude, but the sheer verve with which Wood approaches each project is contagious. The man is imbued with a passion for film and for life that is completely contagious. Depp provides probably the finest performance of his excellent career here. His is a Wood you would certainly be friends with and doubtlessly follow to the ends of the earth. It’s easy to see why those around him would want to help him fulfill his vision. You find yourself cheering for Wood early on. You want nothing more for him to succeed, and, in a weird way, he does. True, his films remain what they are, but gosh darn it, he tries real hard and, in a weird way, never has that meant so much to me about any film character.

Ed Wood is, of course, blessed with the directorial vision of Tim Burton. The film is a bit toned down from the bizarre, expressionist sets which often populate a Burton film, but what we get in each black and white frame is no less striking. I also have to point out a uniformly excellent supporting cast. Sarah Jessica Parker and Patricia Arquette are spot on Ed’s loves. Bill Murray is terrific and subtly, even dryly, wacky as Ed’s friend, Bunny Breckinridge. Best of all though, is Martin Landau as Bela Lugosi. Like Lugosi himself, Landau has not always had the most illustrious career, see Space: 1999, but this is his shining moment. Landau effortlessly brings forth the angst and desperation of a man once famous the world over, now reduced to drug addiction and to the punch lines of jokes on Saturday afternoon movie showcases. His Lugosi is perfectly sympathetic and his every screen moment alternately delights and breaks your heart.

Well, that’s it for Ed Wood, but what discussion of Ed Wood can end without his most immortal line? Pull the string!

52. The Empire Strikes Back

2006-02-20T21:52:00.000-05:00

Irvin Kershner, 1980

Who doesn’t like Star Wars? I ask you. Say what you will about the new ones (They suck! They show a complete lack of competence! Natalie Portman’s got it goin’ on, dude!), the original trilogy remains a damn fun set of films. Still, from an artistic stand point and storytelling standpoint, Empire is by far the most satisfying. There are no Ewoks to impede this baby and Lucas’ ham handed directing style is replaced by the capable eye of Irvin Kershner. Lucas, meanwhile, sat himself down in the producer’s chair, where he really belongs. The man is an effects visionary. I won’t deny it. The stuff he got into the Star Wars movies is great looking even today, but the man just doesn’t know how to deal with actors.

Empire has it all though. We get two new characters in this installment. Yoda is, hands down, a pop culture icon and Frank Oz’s backwards talking puppet is great here, convincingly moving from bumbling idiot to sage teacher before our eyes, as he attempts to mislead Luke and us. In his first appearance, Yoda commanded authority and respect in the middle of a swamp and Oz did it all with voice and with his perfect, subtle puppetry. He didn’t need CGI to make Yoda the great Jedi he was, nor did we need to see him flipping around with a comically short lightsaber. You respected that puppet. The other character we get here is not Boba Fett, who’s popularity I’ve never understood (although my friend Sean O’Brien summed it up best by pointing out what a cool, and to some degree, hard to find toy he was). No, I’m talking about, of course, Lando Mother Fucking Calrissian. Can we give it up for Billy Dee? Thank you. The man is, to this day, cool personified. If there was ever a shifty space pirate to rival Han Solo, it was Lando. True, Lando screwed our heroes over, but he proved himself in the end.

Then there’s the story. Star Wars (that’s right: Star Wars, not Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope, Star Wars), set everything up. With intergalactic war in place and a working understanding of the force, the Jedi, and our cast of characters in our heads, we could go forward at light speed. Luke begins his training while Leia, Han, Chewie, and the gayest robot in the galaxy run afoul of Imperial patrols and Vader himself. After a spectacular action set piece on the ice planet of Hoth, things immediately get dark, for both the cinematography and the story. This is a movie bathed in blacks and reds, with a constant threat of menace. Leia, Han, Chewie, and Robo-Liberace are in constant danger and Luke’s training is anything but rosy, particularly that confrontation in the dead tree thing, where he fights a ghostly Vader. When Vader’s mask pops open and we see Luke’s face. . . man, that’s some of the finest cinematic foreshadowing you’ll ever see. Then there’s Cloud City. This is just the shit, isn’t it? I mean things are looking bad for our heroes. Han gets frozen in carbonite and hauled off by Boba Fett. Lando betrays everyone. And Luke. . . poor Luke. Sure, it’s a bad ass lightsabre duel, but the poor guy loses a hand. Plus, he learns Darth Vader is his father. Bummer.

This is the one to see though, kids. This is the one with all the story, with all the angst and emotion. This is the one that looks great. It’s the one that thrills you for three quarters of the movie and then kicks you right in the balls (can I say balls?). It’s amazing. It’s still amazing. It’s the one I love. And it’s great the way it is. Do you hear me, George?! It was fine! We didn’t need the Special Edition! You didn’t need to change it more for DVD!! For God’s sake, you dicked around with the whole color palette!!! It’s supposed to be dark!!!! Leave well enough alone!!!!!! Sorry. Sorry. Temper check. Okay.

53. The Pink Panther

2006-02-16T12:39:00.000-05:00

Blake Edwards, 1963

Steve Martin's version of The Pink Panther has been in theaters for nearly two weeks now, shocking everyone with half a brain by opening as the number one film in the country. Indeed, at one point, the studio was so concerned about the film, that they postponed its release for nearly a year. Hell, one look at the advanced critical reaction to this sucker would more than confirm those fears. Yet, the damn thing is proving to be something of a hit. It's a fluke.

Strangely, that's actually pretty appropriate as the original The Pink Panther, and the series of sequels that followed it, was a bit of a fluke itself. Basically, The Pink Panther is the story of Sir Charles Lytton, played by the terrific David Niven, and his attempt to steal the famous Pink Panther diamond while vacationing at a ski lodge. Anyway, that's what the film was supposed to be about. Indeed, there were even early plans to use this film as a spring board for a whole series of films about Niven's character. The script also included a character named Clouseau, a bumbling French detective to be played by Peter Ustinov.

When Ustinov backed out, something of a movie miracle occurred. The role of Clouseau was offered to Peter Sellers. Sellers is hilarious in just about every film he's ever appeared in, but Clouseau is probably his trademark role, with Dr. Stranglove being the only real competition for the title. Sellers disappears into his characters and here gives us a bumbling Frenchman with an outrageous accent and a penchant for falling down. Clouseau's supreme self confidence in the face of his own ineptitude (qualities shared by the likes of Maxwell Smart and Inspector Gadget) only adds to the hilarity, as does the many improvised bits created by Sellers and Edwards on set. So perfect is Sellers' Clouseau, that he immediately steals the film, and, indeed, the series, from Niven. Originally intended as a background character, Clouseau explodes as the break out character of the piece, immediately demanding much more screen time than any other man's Clouseau could have. Of course audiences loved Clouseau and Sellers ended up returning again and again, while pretenders to the role, like Alan Arkin, Roberto Begnini, and, ultimately, Steve Martin, are largely forgotten. In this first outing, Sellers has some remarkable stuff, most of it physical, like getting his hand stuck in a porcelain jar during the dance sequence at the lodge, constantly having the wool pulled over his eyes by his unfaithful wife, and numerous unforgettable prat falls. While many of the bits that would be come trademarks in the later films are absent here, like Clouseau's run ins with his boss, played by Herbert Lom, or his hilarious battles with Burt Kwok as manservant Kato, this film is the genesis of Clouseau and the performance that really defines him.

That said, Sellers is not the only reason I love this movie. Indeed, it is the setting and the other characters that make this one stand out for me in the face of even the other Pink Panther movies. The feel of this movie, and of many Blake Edwards movies, is one of the utmost class. I really, really love classy movies, particularly classy comedies, and its such a rare thing to see done well, except in many screwball comedies or in the Thin Man series. Admittedly, The Pink Panther indulges more in a sixties idea of classy more germane to the Connery Bond films, but I think the comparison still stands. Regardless, it is certainly an aesthetic one doesn't really see anymore and its one I miss. At any rate, The Pink Panther is very much a class affair, full of sumptuous exteriors and decadent interiors. There is never any doubt that this movie is set in a rich man's hideaway. David Niven, of course, brings his usual high level of class to the entire affair, giving us a true, but still very funny, gentleman thief. The film also co-stars Capucine and Claudia Cardinale, as Simone Clouseau and Princess Dala, respectively. Both women bring a beauty and, yes, class to the piece that one rarely sees then or now. Indeed, Niven, Capucine, and Cardinale are all intrinsic to the feel of this film and are as responsible for my loving it as Sellers is.

54. The Man Who Would Be King

2006-02-14T23:13:00.000-05:00

John Huston, 1975

Now this, sir, is an adventure movie. The story, adapted from a story by Rudyard Kipling, is about to British soldiers who head into the far reaches of India in search of gold. They are promptly mistaken for gods, specifically the successors of Alexander the Great. Set in the later half of the nineteenth century, the story really has the makings of a great adventure. There is potential for several exotic locales and snapshots of exotic cultures as our heroes walk the road to riches. I’m thrilled to say that John Huston takes every opportunity. Ranging primarily from Indian deserts to snow covered mountain peaks, the scenery is a joy to watch. It is not as lush as the scenery in, say, Lawrence of Arabia, but, then, it isn’t meant to be. After all, this is not meant to be the sweeping epic David Lean’s classic film is, but good old fashioned ripping yarn, with all the pulp and dirt that implies. And these Indian deserts definitely are dusty and dirty, constantly covering our heroes, Daniel and Peachy, in blankets of sand. Huston also doesn’t shy away from foreign customs, such as native dance (nudge, nudge). He does, however, stay true to the ripping nature of the story here, too, forgoing the more civilized and beautiful customs one might see in films, again, like Lawrence of Arabia, favoring instead more barbaric customs, like the natives’ insistence on playing polo with the heads of defeated war chiefs. Fun stuff.

Best of all, though, the film features the two most perfect leads one could ask for in such a yarn. Sean Connery is Daniel and Micheal Caine is his mate, Peachy. That’s mate in the buddy sense, of course. Get your heads out of the gutter. Connery and Caine are perfect together, playing off each other in a way most buddy movies only dream of. It’s a wonder the two only ever made one other picture together. They’re that good. Connery turns in his usual, “I’m cooler than you’ll ever be and I’m from Scotland,” performance, which works damn well for the ex-soldier. I feel I should point out, though, that, while cool, Daniel is a much more rough around the edges, fisticuffs, hard drinking character than Connery’s usual suave types. Caine’s Peachy is equally rough and comes complete with an effective Cockney accent and sensibility. The two men are bound together throughout the film by honor and friendship in a way that, thanks to their screen chemistry, is wholly believable. I would honestly kill to see these two return in similar roles (they were in A Bridge Too Far Together, but its hardly the same thing, too many other characters for one thing). Anyway, what I’m saying is, they’re that fun to watch.

Over the course of the two hours and change, you really, really bond with these characters. True, when they let their “god hood” go to far, you lose something, but their realization that they’ve gone to far makes it all okay. I wish I could say that there’s a happy ending, but that isn’t the case. I get the feeling that most of the people reading this thing (all six of you) haven’t seen the picture, so I’m not going to give away the ending, except to say that what happens and what it says about the bond between the two men. . . well, it’s a hell of a thing. This is one of those endings that really stays with me.

Still, it’s a damn fun movie, despite the tragic end and I feel weird ending an appreciation of such a ripping adventure on a down note, so I’m going to leave you with a quote from Peachy about Daniel. It’s a fine quote, expressing his admiration for his friend and one I would be proud, proud I say, to have said about me, “Danny’s just a man, not a god. He can break wind at both ends simultaneously - which is more than any god can do.”

55. Rebecca

2006-02-14T00:00:00.000-05:00

Alfred Hitchcock, 1940

Rebecca, based on a then popular novel, was one of Alfred Hitchcock’s first big hits. It was the first picture he made in Hollywood and the only one of his films to ever win the best picture Oscar. It was also his first picture with producer David O. Selznick. Selznick was, by all accounts, a very overbearing producer. As such, many, including Hitchcock himself, consider this to be a sort of lesser Hitchcock film, in that it is not as much a Hitchcock film as, say, Vertigo. While that may be true, I really don’t give a crap. This a great movie and every bit as suspenseful as many of Hitchcock’s other films. Indeed, I tend to think of the success of this film as a testament to Hitchcock. No one contends that he made it under ideal circumstances. From an artistic point of view, the film was beset with problems and interference from the beginning. Yet, it remains a powerful, effective, and, yes, suspenseful work. I doubt that most directors could overcome such adversity and still make a picture with the skill that Hitchcock is known for, but, here, he succeeds.

Well, I hoped you enjoyed the history lesson. Now, what the hell is this one about? Joan Fontaine plays a woman who is employed by an equally elderly and uppity rich woman to be her traveling companion. Nothing dirty about, just traveling companion. Anyway, while her employer is sick in bed, our heroine hangs around the resort and falls in love with Sir Laurence Olivier’s Maxim de Winter. Maxim is rich, suave, the whole package. The two fall head over heels in love and Maxim asks her to marry him. After that, it’s off to his big ass mansion, Manderly. While at Manderly, our heroine has a tough time of it. She is expect to be the lady of the house and boss servants around and what not, but she’s never done anything like that before. She isn’t allowed to enter certain rooms. She is regularly terrorized by Mrs. Danvers, Judith Anderson giving it her all as the haughty, arrogant head maid who oozes hatred for our heroine. Worst of all, once returning to Manderly, Maxim turns into a real cold fish, never spending any time with his new wife and snapping at her when he does. It seems that it has only been a few years since Rebecca, the first Mrs. de Winter died. Maxim still seems broken up over it and Mrs. Danvers remains fiercely loyal to her dead mistress. The result is that, while there is no ghost or anything like that, our heroine is haunted by Rebecca as surely as if there was. This is stressed in the filmmaking in a number of ways, like having Mrs. Danvers, Rebecca’s agent of sorts, glide in and out of scenes rather than walk. The best bit, though, is that Rebecca is constantly mentioned throughout the movie. Thanks to the title, hers is the first name we see and, thanks to a monogram on a burning pillow, the last. In contrast, we never learn the name of Joan Fontaine’s character. If she is called anything at all, it is the second Mrs. de Winter. Not knowing her name only adds to Rebecca’s power and to the general sense of foreboding throughout the film.

Most of the suspense in the film comes from that relationship. Our heroine is constantly on edge and shy as a mouse, once even hiding a small trinket she broke rather than throwing it in a trash bin where someone might find it. The best scene of all then, is the major psychological battle waged between the second Mrs. de Winter and Mrs. Danvers in Rebecca’s old bedroom. After Mrs. Danvers shows our heroine the room, she takes her to the balcony where she coaxes our heroine toward killing herself, “Go ahead. Jump. He never loved you, so why go on living? Jump and it will all be over. . .”

56. The Shawshank Redemption

2006-02-13T14:54:00.000-05:00

Frank Darabont, 1994

"I must admit I didn't think much of Andy first time I laid eyes on him; looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over. That was my first impression of the man."

Well, now, what to say? This really is a damn fine movie, isn't it? It's also one that I think all but three people in this world have seen. Still, as a quick reminder, The Shawshank Redemption focuses on Andy Dufresne, played by Tim Robbins. Andy has been sent to Shawshank Prison, the goofiest named prison in the county, for the murder of his wife, a crime he did not commit. There, he lives his life, generally trying to make things easier for himself and others and working on an elaborate escape plan. Of course, the film is really about so much more than that and that's why I like it so much. As I just illustrated, The Shawshank Redemption does possess a sort of linear narrative, but that really isn't how the story works. It is much more meandering, moving off the beaten path of the prison/escape film again and again to consider Andy, his world, and the characters who surround him. It really is the story of a man's life inside the walls of a prison. We see Andy move from newcomer, a fresh meat victim for the prison's "sisters," to an old, respected inmate, running the prison library and helping fellow inmates obtain their GEDs. We revel in the diversions of the main narrative, which provide some of the film's best scenes, like Andy doing the guards' taxes, locking himself in the warden's office to play records over the prison PA, or the delightfully simple, but no less revealing scene where Andy earns himself and his pals a couple of beers while they tar a prison roof.

The thing I always say about this movie is that it makes prison look fun, except of course for the male rape. And that's one of the best things about this movie: the sense of family and camaraderie that exists between Andy and his fellow inmates, particularly Morgan Freeman's Red. Red is an absolutely delightful character, wise beyond his years and the best friend Andy, and even the audience, could ask for, whether on the inside or not. His narration really pulls the movie together and offers continual compassion, humanity, and insight. Furthermore, I defy you not to get all choked up with the last scene and that particular bit of narration. Morgan Freeman is known for consistently excellent work and a handful of great performances in films like Driving Miss Daisey, Glory, Million Dollar Baby, and, of course, as The Electric Company's Easy Reader, but this may well be his best work. And if the narration alone doesn't convince you, check out his scenes on the outside, where he follows the elderly Brooks into a world with no more place for him, a world which holds the humiliation of still having to ask to take a whiz despite being "free" and where suicide has a power even greater than it does inside.

Freeman isn't alone in providing a great performance here. Robbins is damn good and the supporting cast is uniformly excellent. In fact, I'd like to take this opportunity to give it up for one of the most under rated actors working today, Clancy Brown, who plays Capt. Hadley, the crooked guard. Brown is one of the finest screen villains ever, with a distinct, low voice that can chill you to the bone. He's probably best known as the bad dude from the first Highlander. His work in Shawshank is damn good, but I strongly urge you to check him out in Carnivale, where he gave a regular tour de force performance as Brother Justin. Mostly, Brown lends his distinct voice to voice over work and is exceptional in that world. His portrayal of Lex Luthor on the Superman and Justice League cartoons has become the definitive article for me.

Getting back to the subject at hand, The Shawshank Redemption is a damn good film. It was snubbed by Oscar on its release, but is consistantly embraced by audiences through DVD and VHS and its near constant broadcasts on the Turner networks. I have little doubt that this one is going down as one of the finest films of the nineties if not of all time.

57. Rosemary's Baby

2006-02-08T21:49:00.000-05:00

Roman Polanski, 1968

Rosemary’s Baby is the king of psychological horror films. Mia Farrow is Rosemary, a young newlywed who moves into a big gothic apartment building with her young actor husband. One night, not long after they’ve moved in, Rosemary has a startling nightmare. It’s not entirely clear what is going on, but it seems that she is being raped by Satan himself. With the morning, she is able to convince herself that it was all a nightmare. A short time later, Rosemary discovers that she is pregnant. She and her husband, and even their neighbors, couldn’t be happier. Hell, hubby’s acting career is picking up too. Sure he got the job after the original actor went somewhat suspiciously blind, but let’s not pick nits, eh? Then things start to go awry. Rosemary is convinced that there is something wrong with the pregnancy. She is loosing a lot of weight and really just looks like Hell warmed over. Her husband doesn’t think it’s anything unusual and her neighbor’s homemade remedies are only making her feel worse. She tries to confide in her doctor, Charles Grodin, but he’s no help. And, worse, she stumbles upon a book that suggests that her neighbors might be devil worshipers. She even finds a secret door connecting the apartments. When she goes through one night, she could swear they were performing a satanic ritual. Or was that just another nightmare? Is any of this happening or is the stress of her pregnancy just making her hysterical?

You see, that’s the thing about Rosemary’s Baby, you, like Rosemary, can never be sure of anything. Up until the very end, director Roman Polanski keeps you guessing. You want to side with Rosemary, but her suspicions are just so unusual and there is the very real possibility that she’s just sick in the head. This is part of what makes Rosemary’s Baby scarier than all ten Friday the 13th movies (except, of course, part 8; I thought for sure he was really going to take Manhattan). Rosemary lives in a world where she cannot trust anyone. Remember, her neighbors may be devil worshippers and her own husband and her doctor may be in on it as well. Then there’s the question of the thing inside her. Is it a baby? Is there really something wrong with the pregnancy? Why? What about that nightmare? Did that really happen? Rosemary’s Baby is that rare terrific horror film that doesn’t rely on monsters or serial killers or gore to frighten the viewer, but on ideas. The possibilities are what’s frightening here. I’m damned tempted to tell you how it all ends, but I won’t. Suffice to say, that’s the scariest thing of all, both what you see at the end and what you don’t.

I cannot say enough good things about Mia Farrow here. To be honest, I haven’t really seen her in anything else. Well, I did see Supergirl, but the less said about that the better. Here, though, you’re with Mia every step of the way. Her fear, for herself and for her unborn child (and, sometimes, because of it) is absolutely palpable. She is no scream queen, but is an intelligent, modern woman faced with bizarre and frightening possibilities. Throughout the film, she is a gaunt steel trap, so tense with the fear around her that you pray its over soon. Farrow also sang the film’s haunting lullaby, which is one of the most unforgettable and, in light of the conclusion, most unsettling themes in all filmdom. It goes without saying, but Rosemary’s Baby is about Rosemary. It’s a brilliant script and a great film, but, without a woman capable of expressing the abject terror that Rosemary goes through, it would fall apart. Luckily, Mia goes above and beyond the call of duty, creating a character who we can actually care about and whose ultimate fate is one we dread knowing.

58. The Third Man

2006-02-08T18:20:00.000-05:00

Carol Reed, 1949

In short, The Third Man is the story of a washed up pulp novelist named Rollo Martins, played by Joseph Cotton, who comes to Vienna shortly after the second World War in search of his friend, Harry Lime, played by Orson Welles. Harry Lime is supposedly dead and, worse, seems to have been the ringleader behind a black market operation that sold highly diluted penicillin, leading to a number of deaths. When the facts don’t add up, Martins goes looking for his friend, who may still be alive.

The Third Man is often considered the finest British film ever made. Who am I to argue? If nothing else, the film certainly features some of, if not the, best black and white cinematography to ever hit the screen. This film looks amazing. It uses shadows brilliantly, indeed that is the only way we see Lime throughout most of the movie, and has numerous perfect compositions. The climactic chase through the sewers of Vienna are particularly beautiful. Now, it’s a popular misconception that Carol Reed didn’t really direct the picture, but relied heavily on Orson Welles to do the real work of setting up shots and lighting the film. The lighting is certainly brilliant and it does have a Welles influence going on, but Welles maintained throughout his life that Reed was an excellent director, that he didn’t need Welles help and that Welles didn’t offer it. As much as I love Welles, we must recognize this as Carol Reed’s film. He and his cinematographer Robert Krasker are them men most responsible for what is a simply unimpeachable film, at least as far as looks are concerned.

While I feel it is important to give credit where it is due directorially, it is also important to point out Welles’ own contribution to the film: namely, his performance. Welles is always good. He appeared in any number of films he didn’t direct and there isn’t a single performance that is anything less than the best. Hell, he even managed some damn nice work in Transformers: The Movie, upstaging Judd Nelson, which is no easy job. Welles really liked this role, in that his was the character that the entire plot revolved around. He doesn’t show up until well in the movie, but everything leading up to it involves characters talking about him. Welles likened Harry Lime to a play he once saw, saying, “Mister Wu is a classic example -- I’ve played it once myself. All the other actors boil around the stage for about an hour shrieking, ‘What will happen when Mister Wu arrives?,’ ‘What is he like, this Mister Wu?’ and so on. Finally a great gong is beaten, and slowly over a Chinese bridge comes Mister Wu himself in full mandarin robes. Peach Blossom (or whatever her name is) falls on her face and a lot of coolies yell, ‘Mister W!!!’ The curtain comes down, the audience goes wild and everybody says, ‘Isn’t that guy playing Mr. Wu a great actor!’ That’s a star part for you!” And that’s exactly who Harry Lime is. He is a compelling character for nearly an hour before we ever meet him. Of course, Welles doesn’t disappoint and he is likely the only actor who couldn’t. His Lime is so full of self confidence, charm, and moral corruption that there is simply no imagining his being anything else. He lives up to his every description in the film and then some. Welles then imbues him with a series of fantastic monologues (Welles did write his character’s dialog) that remain some of my very favorite in the history of film, particularly the cuckoo clock speech.

Finally, I would just like to point out that the film’s score is every bit as impressive as the rest of it. Reed forgoes the standard sort of orchestral scoring one might expect for this sort of film in favor of a score comprised entirely of musician Anton Karas playing the zither. The result is sometimes unsettling and sometimes whimsical. It is also a score which fits perfectly on the streets of Vienna. It is so unusual and so perfect that it has become a truly iconic score, fitting for such an iconic film.

59. Escape from New York

2006-02-07T18:49:00.000-05:00

John Carpenter, 1981

“Call me Snake.”

1997. New York City is now a maximum security prison. Breaking out is impossible. Breaking in insane. Thus reads the tag line for one of the most kick ass movies of all time. For those of you who haven’t seen it, first off, shame on you. Secondly, this sucker rates a 9.5 on the Big Bad Leroy Brown kick-ass-o-meter. The plot? Well, you already know the basics. It’s the future, far off 1997. New York is a hell hole in which the worst of humanity has been condemned to life, although they are free to roam the streets as they please. It’s a dark and dangerous world and the president’s Air Force One escape pod has just crashed into the middle of it. Enter Snake Plissken, played to bad ass perfection by Kurt Russell, forever proving that he isn’t only the computer who wore tennis shoes. Anyway, and I can’t stress this enough, Snake is one bad mother SHUT YOUR MOUTH! Hey, I’m just talkin’ about Snake. OH. I CAN DIG IT. He’s on his way in, but New York’s warden, Hauk, played by Lee Van Cleef, Angel Eyes himself here to also kick some ass, knows that Snake is the only guy who stands a chance at getting the president out. So, they strike a deal. If Snake rescues the president, Hauk won’t kill him.

Once Snake makes his way into New York it’s all money. He fights cannibals, roving street gangs, and teams up with Ernie Borgnine, Harry Dean Stanton, and Adrienne “I’m Up Here” Barbeau to take on The Duke of New York (A #1), played by Isaac Hayes his own bad self. Do you see how bad ass this movie is? Must I continue to belabor the point? It’s bad ass, brother! When you get right down to it, Escape from New York really is a terrific action movie, but it’s also one that knows better than to take itself too seriously. It’s hardly the big deal weight of the world sort of action movie you might have seen too often. Indeed, Escape has a healthy sense of humor. Ernie Borgnine is really pretty funny as Cabbie. There’s a whole running joke about everyone thinking Snake is already dead, and the scene where the Duke makes Donald Pleasance scream out over and over, “You are the Duke of New York, A number one!” over and over brings a smile to my face each time. By the way, Pleasance plays the president, which is weird since he’s British.

The film also has some terrific visuals. This is a world without electricity in any real sense, so seeing Issac Hayes tool around in a Cadillac Fleetwood sedan with chandeliers for headlights makes perfect sense somehow and is also just a great idea. At any rate, I love John Carpenter from the eighties. He made a handful of movies there that are just a hell of a lot of fun. Escape may be a pretty straight forward action flick, but, as I’ve tried to point out, it’s just fun as hell, from the weird ass concept, to the strange characters, to the climactic chase across a mined bridge. Great, great stuff. On a final note, I love how Carpenter mixes a bit of the Spaghetti Western style into most of his films. Having only recently discovered Leone myself, it’s terrific to rewatch these and see the influence those films had on Carpenter himself, whether its just the look and feel of the film, the clear influence of the Man with no Name on characters like Snake, or the use of Van Cleef here or an Ennio Moriconne score in The Thing. Oh, and did I mention that this movie kicks an ungodly amount of ass? I thought so.

60. The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou

2006-02-06T18:38:00.000-05:00

Wes Anderson, 2004

“Son of a bitch, I’m sick of these dolphins.”

I know that this is a strange way to start an appreciation of a film, but let me begin by saying that The Life Aquatic is by no means as good a film as The Royal Tenenbaums. It is, however, the movie I prefer. It’s a lot weirder than Tenenbaums in a lot of ways. It is also much more divisive. Pretty much everyone likes Tenenbaums; it’s certainly hard not to. As far as Life Aquatic is concerned, though, it seems about half and half, but the half that hates the film really, really hates it. To be completely honest, I don’t know what to say about that. The Life Aquatic is certainly a flawed film. It has the same wonderful look and feel of Tenenbaums, but it never quite comes together as well. Steve Zissou, the film’s main character, played by Bill Murray, is not as immediately likable as Royal Tenenbaum. He is more self obsessed and has a longer way to go toward finding his personal redemption. He is also much more aware of how far he has fallen in life. Once essentially the American Jacques Cousteau, Zissou has fallen on hard times. He sees himself as an adventurer, but has to contend with a substandard ship, substandard equipment, and a largely useless crew, populated heavily by unpaid interns. Steve’s decline in recent years is only felt more keenly thanks to the constant run ins with Alistair Hennessey, a man who now has all the equipment and fame Zissou once had, played spectacularly by Jeff Goldblum, the death of his mentor at the jaws of a Jaguar Shark, and the sudden appearance of a son, Owen Wilson as Ned Plimpton.

Despite its flaws, which I think mostly stem from a less sympathetic lead and a deeper move into Anderson’s stylistic ideals, The Life Aquatic is a lot of fun. For one thing, it is filled with just as many great characters as Tenenbaums. Steve himself is great once you get to know him and I think the interns are absolutely hilarious. Goldblum is perfect, creating in his character a cruel, yet oddly detached villain. Michael Gambon plays Steve’s off kilter manager, who makes Steve swear not to kill the shark that ate his friend, but still gives him dynamite. There is also a character named, Pele dos Santos, one of Zissou’s crew. Pele appears to be from Portugal and provides most of the music for the film. In a bizarre choice, which I think fits in very well with Anderson’s style and themes, Anderson primarily scores the film with the diagetic sound of Pele playing acoustic guitar and singing a series of David Bowie songs in Portuguese. Best of all the characters, though, is Steve’s right hand, Willem Dafoe’s Klaus. Klaus is pretty much a crazy German guy who clearly sees Steve as a father figure. He is immediately and hysterically jealous of Steve’s newfound real son. One of the film’s best moments comes when Steve splits his crew into two halves to search an island. Klaus is not on Steve’s team. Dafoe’s face instantly falls as he throws a fit. Hilarious. I’m also a big fan of the moment when Steve discovers Jeff Goldblum on the island, playing cards with his captors inside a disused resort hotel. Goldblum looks at Steve and asks, “Are you here to rescue me?” Steven nods. Goldblum gives it a moments thought, lays down his cards, and says, “Fold.” He is then shot by his captors. Trust me. It’s damn funny.

Ultimately, Life Aquatic is a much more action oriented film than any of Anderson’s other works, but it is just as fun and wonderfully strange. In the end, our characters grow in the Anderson way and we get to leave the film with a group of characters whose inner turmoil has become something else. I suppose that is a bit predictable, but, with Anderson’s films, it’s the character’s journey that matters more than the outcome and that journey is always a hell of a ride through one hell of a world.

61. M

2006-02-06T00:17:00.000-05:00

1931, Fritz Lang

As M opens, we learn that a killer stalks the streets of an unnamed German city. He is a child murderer. The film moves to a shot of a young girl, playing with her ball. She bounces the ball against a column. On the column is a poster describing the few known details of the murderer and the reward for his capture. Suddenly, a shadow falls over the poster, the silhouette of a man. He whistles “In the Hall of the Mountain King” as he takes the girl away. He buys her a balloon. At home, her mother worries. Where is her daughter? Why is she late coming home from school? Before long, we cut to a shot the balloon floating against telephone wires, her ball rolls alone on the ground. Elsie Beckmann is dead.

The rest of the film is unlike anything else. There are characters, like Inspector Karl Lohmann and a criminal mastermind named Safecracker, who appear throughout the film, but the narrative follows no real lead characters. Instead, it skips around, showing us not only the police investigation, but the growing paranoia in the city, as any man who talks to a girl, be he her father or an elderly gentleman telling her the time, is expected. The police crack down hard, making it impossible for the city’s incredibly organized underground to operate. Because of this, and because they despise the murderer’s crimes, singling him out as unlike them, not a crook, but something else, the criminals begin an investigation of their own. The Beggars Organization blankets the city, watching for the murderer. When one of them, the balloon, vender, recognizes him from his ominous whistle, the beggars mark him with a chalk letter M, for murderer.

Before long, the criminals have him. They take him to the basement of an abandoned factory and they put him on trial, filled with disgust for what he did. The film does an excellent job of making you hate this man. He is a vile monster that not even criminals will embrace. The murderer is played by Peter Lorre and I don’t have enough good to say about him here. Peter Lorre is best known these days for playing the wormy guy in films like The Maltese Falcon, Casablanca, and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. He is, essentially, Hollywood’s number one sniveling coward. Here, he is different. He is scary as hell, the ultimate, detached monster. When he comes on screen, you believe he is capable of what the plot demands of him. You hate him. Yet, in the trial, something strange happens. He breaks down. He begs the criminals for his life. This is where things change. Suddenly, Lorre is no longer frightening. He is a small and pitiable man. Lang, the film’s director, only complicates matters by indicating that Lorre’s character is a sick man, that he kills because of a mental imbalance. Lorre’s perfect performance sells every bit of it.

M begins as a frightening thriller and ends as a bizarre moral quandary. Is Lorre guilty or not and if so, to what degree and how should he be punished. Is street justice more effective than the police? Lang doesn’t answer these or his many other questions himself. Instead, he leaves it all to the audience, creating a film which lives on indelibly in the mind for years after the first viewing.

Who Will Win?

2006-01-31T22:24:00.000-05:00

And the Oscar goes to. . .

Get a pen handy and mark March 5th on your Snoopy desk calendar. That’s the date for the 79th annual Academy Awards, commonly known to you uneducated masses as the Oscars. Yesterday, the academy woke up super early to announce their nominees. I was misled into thinking they’d do this at a reasonable evening time this year, but whatever. Regardless, for the record, if it matters, which it doesn’t, I want it known that the Dudies were completed before I even looked at this list. The Oscars will not affect the Dudies! Do you hear me?! The only thing that could possible affect the Dudies would be Pia Zadora’s dad. Ask around, Jonathon. Someone will explain it to you. Anyway, let’s take a look at who the nominees are and what my two cents are in regards to ‘em. (By the way, I’ll be looking at each category as they are listed on oscar.com, so it’s a bit of a weird order, but whatever.)

ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE
Philip Seymour Hoffman - Capote, Terrence Howard - Hustle and Flow, Heath Ledger - Brokeback Mountain, Joaquin Phoenix - Walk the Line, David Strathairn - Good Night and Good Luck

This is totally Hoffman’s category and good for him. Who would have thought at the beginning of the year that he’d walk away with an Oscar and a Dudie? That’s where it is though. Hoffman’s Capote is the performance of the year hands down. Otherwise, Terrence Howard has no chance in Hell and poor Joaquin Phoenix will likely have been throttled to death by Johnny Cash’s resurrected corpse before the ceremony (which, I suppose, could get some sympathy votes. . .) Admittedly, Heath Ledger and David Strathairn are in position to upset, but I don’t see it happening. Heath is good, but nothing compared to Hoffman this year and no one knows who the hell Strathairn is. Plus, some voters will likely confuse Philip Seymour Hoffman with Dustin Hoffman and that’ll be that.

ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
George Clooney - Syriana, Matt Dillon - Crash, Paul Giamatti - Cinderella Man, Jake Gyllenhaal - Brokeback Mountain, William Hurt - A History of Violence

Much as I loved William Hurt, he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell. Neither does Matt Dillon. No, conventional wisdom here, and I’m forced to agree, is that it’s going to be a battle of the consolation prize supporting actor Oscars. Giamatti was snubbed last year for his brilliant work in Sideways and there’s no way Clooney’s winning best director, despite a stellar job on Good Night and Good Luck and bonus points for being well liked in Hollywood. So, one of ‘em will probably get the bronze medal of Oscar, best supporting actor. At least, that’s what people think. I’m not sure though. I think Gyllenhaal did well enough in Brokeback to upset things here. It’s a strong performance, sure to garner a good amount of votes and it voters split to much between Giamatti and Clooney, Gyllenhaal will get the gold. Still, for now, I’m leaning toward seeing Clooney pick this one up.

ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE
Judi Dench - Mrs. Henderson Presents, Felicity Huffman - Transamerica, Keira Knightley - Pride and Prejudice, Charlize Theron - North Country, Reese Witherspoon - Walk the Line

I haven’t seen any of these movies, nor am I really excited about anything here. That seems to be the scuttlebutt, too. Boring best actress category. Right now, Reese has all the buzz and will probably take it, but, from what I hear and what I’ve seen in previews, Felicity Huffman’s work as a transsexual may prove the upset. Plus, Huffman? That’s practically Hoffman and he’s winning best actor. Can the academy resist the Hoffman/Huffman possibilities? Oprah. Uma. Oprah. Uma.

ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Amy Adams - Junebug, Catherine Keener - Capote, Frances McDormand - North Country, Rachel Weisz - The Constant Gardener, Michelle Williams - Brokeback Mountain

I’m hearing it for Rachel Weisz on this one and that sounds about right to me. There’s some chance of Frances McDormand winning a sort of career award here, but not good enough to bet the farm on.

ANIMATED FEATURE
Howl’s Moving Castle, Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride, Wallace and Gromit in the Curse of the Were-Rabbit

Dude. It’s Wallace and Gromit. Everyone loves Wallace and Gromit. They’ve got a solid record winning Oscars for their shorts and their gonna win here. Corpse Bride? Too weird for the Academy. Howl’s Moving Castle? Too Japanese and most of the Academy still hasn’t forgotten Pearl Harbor. Really. It was a bad movie. What was Ben Affleck thinking?

ART DIRECTION
Good Night and Good Luck, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, King Kong, Memoirs of a Geisha, Pride and Prejudice

I have no idea. It seems like Geisha is begging for this one, though, doesn’t it?

CINEMATOGRAPHY
Batman Begins, Brokeback Mountain, Good Night and Good Luck, Memoirs of a Geisha, The New World

As you’ll notice, just like art direction, the Academy really doesn’t give a shit who the cinematographer or art director is. The movie shot itself, damn it. Stupid. And if they do that put all the nominees on the stage at once crap again, I’m gonna lose it. I swear. I’ll go totally Nolte. In the meantime, I’m pretty surprised to see Batman here. Don’t get me wrong, it’s damn well shot, but I didn’t think the academy would be going anywhere near old Bats. After all, academy voters are a cowardly and superstitious lot. Obviously, I think Brokeback Mountain will get this, but I can see Malick’s New World and even Good Night pulling off an upset.

COSTUME DESIGN
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Memoirs of a Geisha, Mrs. Henderson Presents, Pride and Prejudice, Walk the Line

This seems to me to be a fight between Charlie and Geisha. Everything else is pretty much, “Well, the movie is set in the sixties, so. . .um. . . we looked in a book.” Even Geisha really has that problem, its just a little flashier. Charlie at least involved some major effort, designing crap from scratch. So, I’m thinking Charlie, but I can see Geisha. Especially, if a massage is involved.

DIRECTING
Brokeback Mountain, Capote, Crash, Good Night and Good Luck, Munich

Even the director’s don’t get props on the Academy website. I’d remedy this, but I’m way too lazy to go looking for everyone’s name on IMDB. Anyway, is there any doubt that Ang Lee has this bitch wrapped up tight? I didn’t think so. Next!

DOCUMENTARY FEATURE
Darwin’s Nightmare, Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room, March of the Penguins, Murderball, Street Fight

Who knows. Really, documentary is always such a crap shoot. Penguins are cute, but Murderball is inspiring, but Enron is political. Whatever. I think I’m gonna give it to Street Fight, either the biography of Sonny Chiba or the true story behind M. Bison’s coup for control of the world through a series of one on one brawls. I’m not sure which it is. I’m kind of hoping for M. Bison. That Chung Li is cute.

DOCUMENTARY SHORT
The Death of Kevin Carter: Casualty of the Bang Bang Club, God Sleeps in Rwanda, The Mushroom Club, A Note of Triumph: The Golden Age of Norman Corwin

No one ever knows. Seriously. Has anyone ever seen any of these? I don’t want to be rude. I’m sure they’re very good. There just isn’t a good venue for these or for the other shorts. Hey, big theater chains, how about showing some of these instead of two back to back Bod body spray commercials?

FILM EDITING
Cinderella Man, The Constant Gardener, Crash, Munich, Walk the Line

Dude. I don’t know. I’ve only seen Crash, which was well edited. I’m giving to Crash. Leave me alone.

FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM
Don’t Tell, Joyeux Noel, Paradise Now, Sophie Scholl - The Final Days, Tsotsi

I’m hearing it for Tsotsi, but I don’t really have any idea. I would really like to see like Randy Newman introduce this category and have Tsotsi win. That could really be fun.

MAKEUP
The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Cinderella Man, Star Wars: Episode III Revenge of the Sith

Um. . . . . . .Narnia. I’m saying Narnia. That’s got goat dudes and shit. Cinderfella? That’s just Jerry Lewis in a dress. No real make up there. Star Wars? Aren’t all of those guys done with computers now?

MUSIC (SCORE)
Brokeback Mountain, The Constant Gardner, Memoirs of a Geisha, Munich, Pride and Prejudice

God damn it. I don’t know. Okay?! Jeez. Did John Williams do any of these? He did Munich? Well, guess what’s winning.

MUSIC (SONG)
“In the Deep” from Crash, “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp” from Hustle and Flow, “Travelin’ Thru” from Transamerica

In a huge upset, I’m giving this to “The Glory of Love” from Karate Kid 2.

BEST PICTURE
Brokeback Mountain, Capote, Crash, Good Night and Good Luck, Munich

It’s Brokeback Mountain. We all know it’s Brokeback Mountain. Capote? They’re buying that off with Hoffman’s best actor. Crash? Came out too long ago for anyone to care. Good Night and Good Luck? Too thinky. Munich? If you take out the “i,” the movie is Munch and there’s no way a movie called Munch is winning best picture. Really, I haven’t seen Munch yet, but these are all worthy pictures. The truth is, though, that Brokeback is just that much better and everyone loves it and it’s about gay guys so the Academy can feel like it’s being all liberal and socially conscious. It’s a lock. Put the cat out early and go to bed.

Well, it was a long list and toward the end there. . . what? There’s more? Wouldn’t you end on picture? Jesus.

SHORT FILM (ANIMATED)
Badgered, The Moon and the Son: An Imgained Conversation, The Mysterious Geographic Explorations of Jasper Morello, 9, One Man Band

????????

SHORT FILM (LIVE ACTION)
Ausreisser (The Runaway), Cashback, The Last Farm, Our Time Is Up, Six Shooter

See above comments.

SOUND EDITING
King Kong, Memoirs of a Geisha, War of the Worlds

Good God. Who knows. Did Murch do any of these? No? Crap. Um. . . King Kong. That’s what I’m saying.

SOUND MIXING
The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, King Kong, Memoirs of a Geisha, Walk the Line, War of the Worlds

There’s a difference? Seriously. There is. Just don’t ask me to explain it. I’m giving it to Walk the Line on account of all the singin’.

VISUAL EFFECTS
The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lions, the Tigers, the Bears, Oh My, King Kong, War of the Worlds

Dude. It’s gonna be Kong. That’s one convincing monkey.

WRITING (ADAPTED SCREENPLAY)
Brokeback Mountain, Capote, The Constant Gardener, A History of Violence, Munich

Again, I don’t really have a feel for a stand out contender here, but I’m going with Capote. I just feel it for Capote. Very well written. Feels like a good adaptation.

WRITING (ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY)
Crash, Good Night and Good Luck, Match Point, The Squid and the Whale, Syriana

Okay. Here we go. Now, this is a different thing than adapted. I don’t need to have also read a book to give an opinion here. Of course, it would help if I’d seen more than two of these. Still, I’m feeling pretty good about Crash. It’s a very complex story and the way the various threads move and weave together is really very nice and anything but obvious, definite definite skill in the writing of this sucker. That said, I can see Match Point as a spoiler, given that Woody wrote it and everyone loves Woody (everyone except Mia! Zing!). The Squid and the Whale also seems to have good cred and it has that whole smaller, indy thing going for it. Still, smart money, or my money at least, is on Crash.

And with that, I’m finally done. Expect the ceremony to run somewhere around seven and a half hours. I’m gonna go get some codine and sack out. I’ll see you kids tomorrow.

The 2005 Dudie Awards

2006-01-31T11:17:00.000-05:00

The least prestigious awards imaginable.

Well, kids, here they are: The Dudies. The Dudies are a shameful Oscar rip-off and are awarded in several Oscar-style categories. The Dudies have a long and storied history, dating back as far as yesterday. They are awarded by the Academy of Eric Houston Arts and Sciences in conjunction with The National Brotherhood of Erics Local 247. Each winner receives a statuette, as pictured at right. Without further adieu, here are the Dudies for 2005.

BEST SCORE/ORIGINAL MUSIC
Danny Elfman - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Yeah, yeah. Just like the Oscars, we’re starting out with the bottom of the barrel categories. Of course, that’s bottom of the barrel as far as the regular man is concerned. To me, all categories are precious. Anyway, our first Dudie goes to Danny Elfman for his fantastic, fun, and oddly haunting score for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Even better are Danny’s original Oompa Loompa songs, done in a variety of styles from sixties pop to disco to classic rock. Each is unbelievably catchy and are a favorite component of what was undoubtedly one of my favorite movies of the year.

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHER
Rodrigo Prieto - Brokeback Mountain

There’s no denying it; Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal are dreamy. Oh to be a teenage girl! I’d have their Tiger Beat posters all over the room. What? Right. Well, dreamy as they may be, the shots that make up Brokeback Mountain, this years major Oscar bait, are positively brilliant and infinitely dreamier. The shot of Heath Ledger with fireworks erupting behind him, the various beautiful vistas and cloud filled skies, wonderful, intimate photography of the major relationships, including, of course, that between Heath and Jake, just beautiful. No doubt, Ang Lee had a hand in these perfect compositions, but Prieto brings a mastery of his art necessary to this films success. It has a terrific plot, wonderful performances, but, what really pushes it over the edge is how good it all looks. Congrats on the Dudie Rodrigo!

BEST ANIMATED FEATURE
Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit
Runner Up: The Corpse Bride

How fun was this movie? Wallace and Gromit have always been great in small doses, but I’m thrilled to see they work just as well in long form. This film has it all: comedy, heart, and giant rabbits. All the gags in the movie work. It’s an absolute joy to watch. The rabbits are great, Gromit’s quiet frustration is perfect, Wallace’s complex contraptions are, well, complex. I loved it. As for the runner up, I don’t want to spend a whole lot of time on these. Suffice to say, these are the nominees that just missed the Dudie. For the record, each runner up does get a Dudie Runner Up medallion, lovingly handcrafted on photoshop.

SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Catherine Keener - Capote
Runners Up: Missi Pyle - Charlie, Maria Bello - A History of Violence

It was a tough call, but I’m giving it to Keener’s performance as Harper Lee in Capote. It’s a really nice performance and her stability, confidence, and, dare I say, even hint of masculinity is a perfect counterpoint to Hoffman’s Capote. Really, even if this sounds kind of stupid, her work wonderfully supports the lead.

SUPPORTING ACTOR
William Hurt - A History of Violence
Runners Up: Ben Kingsley - Oliver Twist, David Kelly - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Meanwhile, William Hurt is a shameless scene stealer in A History of Violence. He plays Viggo Mortensen’s delightfully cooky, mafia connected brother. He’s a real joy to watch in this, odd, dark, and compelling.

BEST ACTRESS
Naomi Watts - King Kong

Not only is she very human and sympathetic in herself, Watts does the near impossible in making you believe in a giant freaking gorilla that, when she was actually shooting her scenes, wasn’t even there. You completely buy that, not only is she relating to the gorilla, but she deeply cares for him. It’s also a heavily unusual, stylized performance, but one which works so well in the environment that it’s very strangeness adds to the verisimilitude.

BEST ACTOR
Philip Seymour Hoffman - Capote
Runners Up: Mickey Rourke - Sin City, Johnny Depp - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Heath Ledger - Brokeback Mountain, David Strathairn - Good Night and Good Luck, Eugine Hutz - Everything Is Illuminated

Hoffman’s Capote is the stand out performance of the year. I don’t know what it says about the man, but he embodies Truman Capote in a way you only see in the greatest biopics of all time: George C. Scott as Patton or Ben Kingsley as Gandhi. It’s really stellar and complex work that moves far beyond the superficial, cartoonish, and stereotypical about Capote to find the conflicted, contradictory, and, in many ways, deplorable human being beyond.

BEST DIRECTOR
Tim Burton - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Runners Up: Ang Lee - Brokeback Mountain, Oliver Twist - Roman Polanski, Liev Schreiber - Everything Is Illuminated

This is a real tough category for me. It really was between the sheer directorial skill exhibited by Ang Lee with Brokeback Mountain and the deeply joyful, whimsical, and somehow slightly disturbing vision offered by Burton. Anyway, there’s no doubt that Charlie was my favorite film of the year, and Burton was the main reason. There is no doubt that his vision guided the performances and style that all came together so wonderfully in this film. It’s a totally unconventional choice, but I don’t care. This is my call, baby. He’ll never win the Oscar. Never. But for the best work of his career, I’m giving Burton the Dudie.

BEST GENRE PICTURE
Serenity

The film continuation of TV’s Firefly was a spectacular ride. Combining the very best of science fiction and western pictures, this movie is incredibly entertaining and damn smart. It doesn’t seem like a whole lot of people who didn’t already love the property went to see this, but by God, they should. Further, given how much the two have in common regarding their inspiration, this is the sort of film the Star Wars prequels should have been. So, if you were disappointed b y Star Wars, and who wasn’t, give this a try. It’s soooo much better.

BEST PICTURE NO ONE SAW
Everything Is Illuminated

Liev Schrieber’s directorial debut starts out as the funniest thing I’ve seen all year. The film follows Elijah Wood as he travels to the former Communist Block to find his family’s jewish origins. His guide is a young Ruskie, Alex. Alex is also the narrator, speaking to us through a thick, comical accent. There are so many great things early on. Alex’s driver is his grandfather. The grandfather claims to be blind, driving around Russia with sunglasses on, but he isn’t. He even has a “seeing eye bitch” named Sammie Davis Jr. Jr. Neither Alex or his grandfather can understand how Wood can be a vegetarian. They don’t even know what it is and wonder what can be wrong with him. Alex also has a series of brilliant lines, all of which would make the Festrunk brothers beam with pride, such as, “All the ladies are wanting to get carnal with me because of my premium dance moves.” As great as all this is, by the end, it is one of the most touching films you’ve ever seen, deeply human and at least a little depressing. How the film moves, and moves beautifully, from one extreme to the other is something to be seen.

WORST PICTURE
Robots.

God awful. This movie is a war crime, plain and simple.

BEST PICTURE
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Runners Up: Sin City, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Everything Is Illuminated

While probably not the actual best picture made this year, it was certainly my favorite and that’s what counts for a Dudie. Sadly, it’s no big surprise, but it is the movie that most captured me this year. Great look, great perfomaces, terrific attitude. I’ve already talked extensively about how much I liked it in the regular column, so check that out if you haven’t. Again, it won’t win the Oscar. It probably won’t even be nominated. In all likelihood, Brokeback Mountain will win the day and, in all honesty, it probably is the better film, but, of the two, Charlie is the one I’ll still be watching twenty years from now.

That’s it for the Dudies. I’m off to the after party. Join me tomorrow for an in-depth look at the nominees for the Academy Awards. Ciao!

Oscar, Oscar!

2006-01-30T21:18:00.000-05:00

Anticipating the 78th Annual Academy Awards

Sorry, Billy. Not this year. As much as I love you as host, we’re getting Jon Stewart this year. Of course, I love the Daily Show, and, so, I expect Stewart to be a hell of a host. He’ll definitely top Chris Rock and perennial bottom of the barrel host Whoopie Goldburg, but I’ll miss the song, Billy.

What does this have anything to do with anything? Well, it’s Oscar time folks! That’s right, it’s that time of the year when I get all giggly and rant to anyone within ranting distance about my picks for the best pics of the year. The only difference between this year and previous years, though, is that, this year, I have a blog. With nominations announced tomorrow night, I’m kicking off a special Oscar Week for the Production Dude. So, until next Monday, I’m putting the Big List off. We’ll resume with #61 next week, don’t worry. I’m particularly excited about #60 on, too. That’s the real meat of the list folks.

Enough about that, though. What can you expect out of the next week? Well, Wednesday will involve an in depth look at the nominees as I whine and complain about all the nominations Cinderella Man got and how Sky High didn’t get any. Thursday will be a special look at the worst films I saw this year and Friday. . . well, I don’t know yet. It kind of depends. If there’s a good lifetime achievement award, I’ll talk about that guy. Otherwise? Who the fuck knows.

Oh? But tomorrow? Tomorrow will be my own little mini-Oscars. I’ll come up with a name for them later. Maybe the Dudies. Anyway, I’ll be throwing out my own big three picks for best picture of the year, best director, best actor, and best actress. I’ll throw out picks for best supporting actor/actress, cinematography, animated film, and the like too, but probably only the one pick for each of those. I’ll probably even add a couple of categories like best genre film and best film no one else saw. As for the eligible films, I’m opening it up to all of the film I have seen that are eligible for the real Oscars. As such, those films are (in order of having seen them):

Elektra, Sin City, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Star Wars: Episode III: The Revenge of the Sith, Robots, The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl, The Longest Yard, Batman Begins, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Fantastic Four, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, March of the Penguins, Sky High, Brothers Grimm, The Aristocrats, Madagascar, Crash, The Bad News Bears, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Serenity, Broken Flowers, A History of Violence, Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, Goodnight and Good Luck, Everything Is Illuminated, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, The Corpse Bride, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, King Kong, Oliver Twist, Capote, Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World, and, if all goes as planned this afternoon, Brokeback Mountain.

Only 34 films to pick from. Yeesh. Mind you, I saw a couple of these more than once and I saw a few rereleases and a few ineligible films, so my film viewing for the year is still at a good level, thank God.

62. The Royal Tenenbaums

2006-01-27T13:21:00.000-05:00

Wes Anderson, 2001

"Well, everyone knows Custer died at Little Bighorn. What this book presupposes is. . . maybe he didn't."

I love Wes Anderson. He is easily the most original young director to show up in a long time and I am certain that he is going to become one of my all time favorites. So far, Anderson has directed four movies: Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, and The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. I love everyone of them, but, while another of these four will appear on the list shortly, Tenenbaums is the one we're discussing today. Part of the reason I like this particular movie so much is that it is the first film to really indulge completely in Anderson's auterist qualities vis a vis production design, a unique design which existed in the margins of Rushmore, but which comes out full force here and works beautifully with Tenebaum's plot. It is a difficult thing to explain and one that I have spent a lot of time thinking about; so I ask that you indulge me as I try to explain. Among other things, Tenenbaums is a film about a family, the Tenenbaums, naturally, that was once rich and famous, but which isn't anymore. They continue to exist in a world surrounded by the faded trappings of that notorious past, living in a massive house with once beautiful wallpaper, furniture, trim, etc. which is now sadly faded and well out of date. The Tenenbaums themselves live lives similar to their home and possessions. They are a family of the once famous: an adopted daughter, Gwyneth Paltrow as Margot Tenenbaum, who was once a gifted playwright, but now shares a hollow relationship with a man she doesn't love, ironically a psychiatrist, played by Bill Murray, a son, Ben Stiller as Chas, who was once a sort of business prodigy and inventor of a new species of mice and a successful family man, now racked with self doubt and despair following the death of his wife (both of which he attempts to compensate for with a ridiculous series of fire drills and the like involving his own two children), and a second son, Luke Wilson as Richie, a former tennis pro who now avoids his family because of his unspoken love for Margot.

All of this sounds like the ingredients for a tragic movie, particularly when you add in Gene Hackman's brilliant work as ostracized family patriarch Royal Tenenbaum, once the proud head of the family, now reduced to a series of ridiculous pleas for his family's attention. Still, Tenenbaums is rarely all that tragic. True, when we meet the family, they have a great deal of growing to do if they are to find happiness, but this is a film that is much more joyous than tragic. It is a story of a family's return to greatness, at least on a personal, emotional level, not their decline. Further, while the film revels in its sort of second hand version of the well to do appearance, the Tenenbaums themselves are not overly self conscious of their fate. They know that they have outlived past glories, but they do not lament it. This is not Sunset Boulevard. The characters do not waste tears over their fading home or past accomplishments. They and Wes Anderson are not interested in those glories or restoring them; they are interested in their interpersonal/familial decline and in repairing that. It is this interest in each other more so than in themselves that gives this movie a very unique identity and avoids a tragedy that we have seen before.

This emphasis on the personal also allows the film to indulge it's characters many quirks, like Margot's wooden finger and secret smoking habit or Richie's insistence on sleeping in a tent inside the house. It also allows the film to be comedic. Now, Tenenbaums is most often referred to as a comedy and I do think it's very, very funny, but it also deals extensively with the themes I've mentioned above. It is no slapstick or screwball movie and it certainly isn't the sort of frat boy comedy so popular today. Instead, and I'm loath to borrow an analogy from Shreck here, but whatever, it is kind of an onion of a film in that it really does have so many layers. If we are going to call it a comedy, and perhaps we may as well, I think that we also need to call it one of the smartest, most emotionally satisfying comedies to come around in a long time. That said, I do think this movie is damn funny. I love how odd the characters are and how odd the production design is. I love just about every line to come out of Gene Hackman's mouth as, time and again, Royal simply doesn't get it, as when a young Margot asks her father what he thought of the characters in her latest play, Royal: What characters? There's a bunch of little kids dressed up in animal costumes. Margot: Good night, everyone. Royal: Well, sweetie, don't get mad at me. That's just one man's opinion. I love Royal's man servant, Pagoda, a former assassin who once stabbed Royal with a shiv and then carried him to a hospital. I love it when Pagoda gets fired and stabs Royal again. I love Owen Wilson as Eli, the Tenebaum's family friend, currently experiencing fame of his own for a series of weird historical fiction books. I love the image of Eli snorting coke with his author friends in front of a big painting of old West style Indians riding ATVs. I love Bill Murray and the weird kid he's studying. I love Alec Baldwin's narration. I love Ben Stiller's paranoia and Luke Wilson's falconing. Most of all, I love the epithet that Royal wants for his tomb stone. It's the same one I'd like to have, "Died tragically rescuing his family from the remains of a destroyed sinking battleship."

63. The Philadelphia Story

2006-01-24T18:32:00.000-05:00

George Cuckor, 1940

Now this, sir, is a classic, a great movie with an even greater cast. Here you have Katherine Hepburn, Cary Grant, and Jimmy Stewart all in one film. Katherine Hepburn plays Tracy Lord, a real rich bitch and the ex-wife of Cary Grant's likable C. K. Dexter Haven, also rich but significantly less bitchy. For some reason, Mr. C. K. Dexter Haven regrets his separation from Ms. Lord and conspires to crash her latest wedding along with a pair of reporters from Spy Magazine, your standard gossip rag. Jimmy Stewart is one of the reporters and a budding short story writer. Along the way, Tracy falls in love with her fiancé, with Stewart, and, if he gets his way, with C. K. Dexter Haven, but first she's going to have to be "yar," to use the film's terminology, and seek an equal as a mate instead of a "high priest" to her own "virgin goddess."

Every performance in this film is simply amazing and full of a great deal of comedy. I particularly like the scene, near the end of the film, where a drunk off his ass Jimmy Stewart goes to C. K. Dexter Haven's house to discuss Tracy. There seems to be a good amount of ad libbing going on in this scene and Grant constantly looks like he's going to loose it in the face of Stewart's hilarious drunk acting. There is also an excellent bit early on where Tracy decides that she is going to present the Spy Magazine reporters with an exaggerated view of an eccentric rich family. She and her sister prance into the room speaking French to each other and gliding around like a couple of bimbos. Tracy's younger sister, herself a very likable character who seems to understand what Tracy needs in a man more than Tracy does, then sits down to play piano, making this the only film on my list to feature the song " Lydia, the Queen of Tattoos."

I suppose this film is best categorized as a comedy, but the reason I like it so much is that it is significantly more complex than that. The film is a prototypical example of the so-called "comedy of re-marriage," a branch of screwball comedy that concerns the leads falling back in love with each other. Yet, unlike most screwball comedies, there is a real question here regarding the lead's suitability for each other on a personal level. Tracy really is a bitch and it's interesting to a see a movie address that, along with various class distinctions, and a much more plausible romantic triangle, or quadrangle I suppose, than usual. It's a movie with a lot of twists and turns in the plot, but, thankfully, just as many in our perceptions of the characters. And that's what the story is really all about, the characters, their relationships, and the transformations they have to make for each other. Great stuff.

64. Ben-Hur

2006-01-23T16:13:00.000-05:00

William Wyler, 1959

Charlton Heton is Judah Ben-Hur, Jewish prince! I know. I know. Chuck Heston is hardly a Jewish anything, but it’s certainly more convincing than old Chuck playing a Mexican in Touch of Evil, so stay with me (although, his least fitting role is probably as Sherlock Holmes in an obscure little film called The Crucifer of Blood, but I’m only a couple of lines in and that’s a hell of a digression). Anyway, our boy Ben-Hur pisses of an old childhood friend, Messala, and, as a result, is forced into being a galley slave, after which he is taken on as a chariot driver, where he once again meets Messala, this time in the Colosseum. Along the way, Chuck even meets Jesus a time or two. This baby is the epic of all epics. Based on a novel by Lew Wallace, a Civil War general dude, it is not pulled from the Bible, but features an original story (or more original), with Biblical settings. This helps to set the film immediately apart from twice told tales like The Ten Commandments and Samson and Delilah. Of course, Ben-Hur had been made a time or two before this, back in the silent era, but this is the definitive version. Epic really isn’t even the word. This movie is massive on every conceivable level. Chuck is, of course, great. The sets and costumes are gorgeous and the action sequences are tremendous. The fire on the galley is particularly good.

Of course, I’m not kidding anyone, the big thing this film has going for it is always going to be the chariot race. This baby was done for real. Real teams of horses pulling real chariots around a, well, a set, but still, it’s freaking huge. And, what’s more, it’s not just the action climax of the film, but an emotional climax as well, which is so often missing from today’s big action blockbusters. You see, the reason Messala uses to send Chuck away is that a brick fell of his roof and just about conked some Roman governor in the noodle. This, by the way, is exactly how they talk in the film. Now, Messalah knows it was an accident and Chuckles knows that Mesala knows. Still, Messala uses it as an excuse to send Chuck to the galleys and imprison his wife and sister, who show up later in the picture riddled with leprosy (fun!). So, a big part of this movie is Chuck’s drive for revenge. Not the most Christian of messages, but there you go. It is still his lust for revenge that keeps Chuck alive through his slave days and drives him to become the greatest charioteer since, well, since the previous great charioteer.

Honestly, though, it’s a great movie and the only real word to describe it is huge. This is epic action in the old sense and really just one hell of a movie, from a time when films could take their time and offer a big story just as much about the people in it as about the gigantic happenings which build it.

65. The Invisible Man

2006-01-19T21:35:00.000-05:00

James Whale, 1933

No, no, no. Not The Hollow Man. No, not Memoirs of an Invisible Man, either. No, baby, this is the original. This is Claude Rains in the finest film performance you never see. On a cold winter night, the wind howls outside, whipping snow around the tiny English village of Ipping. Suddenly, the door to the inn bursts open and a man enters. He wears a thick coat and hat. Despite the night, he wears dark tinted glasses that cover both fronts and sides. His nose is shiny and bright pink and his face is wrapped in bandages. No one knows his name. All they know is that he is a scientist who suffered a horrible accident. He stays at the inn for many months, experimenting night and day with his chemicals, never seeing anyone. Before long, the curiosity of the townsfolk is piqued. They most know the man’s secret. Badgering him over an unpaid rent bill and a frightened land lady, the people and their constable confront the scientist. At length he screams in his deep, commanding voice, “You’re crazy to know who I am, aren’t you? All right! I’ll show you!” He lifts his hands and begins to undo the bandages, reveal a horrifying nothing underneath. There is no deformity. In fact, there is no head at all. As the scientist removes his clothes, we see the same is true for each body part. The man really is invisible. The year is 1933. We are 44 years before Star Wars, 60 years before Jurassic Park. Hell, The Wizard of Oz won’t come out for another six years. And yet, there it was, a man disappeared on film. It was no simple trick. We see the Invisible One, as he is credited, in several full body shots as he undresses. Of course, there is a trick: rotoscoping, but that trick is incredibly convincing, especially for 1933. The sole flaw in the process is that you cannot see the back of the Invisible One’s collar through his neck, otherwise the illusion is convincing and hardly improved upon in the intervening years. We may be able to make realistic dinosaurs run around, thus improving on movies like The Lost World, but the best we can do for The Invisible Man is fill in the back of his collar. I imagine that the audience reaction was a lot like that of audiences at The Phantom of the Opera, when Chaney finally removes his mask. They had to have gone batshit. This is a movie with incredible effects from a time when movie effects were unheard of, especially effects this good. Oh, we’ve all seen the footage of Rains pulling away the bandages now. We aren’t shocked anymore. But to see that for the first time in a simpler age of film and film effect. That had to be mind blowing.

Of course, the effects are far from the only thing I love about this movie. Claude Rains, in what I understand is his first real screen role, is terrific. You only see his face in the final seconds of the film, as he lies unconscious. The rest of the time he is either bandaged or invisible. Yet, the man has such a command over his voice, which is a damned impressive, commanding voice at that, that he gives a performance dripping with love, hatred, rage, arrogance, and mania. It is an amazing performance and it is done without the aid of his face. The direction is terrific. Everything looks great. The film was directed by James Whale, the director of Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein, and, arguably, one of the two best horror directors of his day, along with Todd Browning. The adaptation of H. G. Wells’ novel is impressive. Really the only change is to add cars to the story. Otherwise, the village of Ipping remains as quaintly English as it does in the novel. The supporting cast is great, check out Clarence from It’s a Wonderful Life as the Invisible One’s old boss! This is easily my favorite of the Universal Horror films.

66. The Last Temptation of Christ

2006-01-19T14:48:00.000-05:00

Martin Scorsese, 1988

Jesus Christ! No. Really. Seriously though, this is the best film exploration of the life of Christ I have ever seen. The story is pretty much what you expect. We catch up with Jesus somewhere in his early thirties. He pals around with the apostles, Mary Magdalene, and the like, preaches a bit, is betrayed, and dies on a cross. What sets this movie apart from something like The King of Kings (either version), though, is the portrayal of Christ. Scorsese is not interested in covering the ground covered so often before, giving us a perfect messiah. This is not to say that he does not believe in Christ as God and man; I really don't know what he believes specifically, nor is it really any of my business. What he does do, though, is offer a Christ who, for the first time, we can really sympathize with. In some ways, it's a lot like what Mel Gibson said he was trying to do with The Passion of the Christ: giving us a sense of what Christ went through for us. Yet, while Gibson does this in a rather brutal, explicit way (i.e. look, he's getting the shit beat out of him!), Scorsese takes a different road. The suffering endured by Scorsese's Christ is emotional. It is a suffering of the life he cannot have.

You see, in The Last Temptation of Christ, Willem Dafoe plays Christ's human side. By and large, his divinity is set aside so that we can examine a Christ who is, in many ways, like us. True, Christ performs miracles like water into wine and the raising of Lazarus and he is capable of both beautiful rhetoric and extraordinary compassion, but he is also a man, with doubts and desires. In fact, the sense you get from this film more than any other is that Christ would like a normal life. The human part of who he is wants nothing more than to settle down and raise a family. That, then, becomes his last temptation and the source of the controversy that surrounded the film upon its release eighteen years ago. This Christ understands that what he must do is to die willingly on the cross. Obviously, he would just as soon go on living, but, even though he knows the betrayal from Judas, portrayed by Harvey Keitel as Jesus' best friend, is coming, he does nothing to avoid it and indeed finds himself nailed to a cross. It is at this point that an angel appears to Jesus and tells him that he has done his bit. He can now use his power and step off the cross and lead a normal life. Christ does as the angel asks and is rewarded with that normal life which seems so ordinary to you or I, but which is so special to a man like Christ. So, Christ goes about his life, first marrying Mary Magdalene and then, when she tragically dies, living with Mary and Martha and raising a slew of kids. This is where we start to spiral into It's a Wonderful Life territory, though. Jesus eventually comes into contact with Saul/Paul, Judas, and Peter, but things are not the way they are supposed to be. They preach the tale of a dead and resurrected Lord, but know it to be a lie. They preach not for the betterment of other, but for their own reasons, killing those, including Lazarus, who know the truth of what they say. It seems that without the reality of Christ's saving sacrifice, nothing is as it should be. Eventually, Christ realizes the truth, although part of him has known it all along. This is not his real life, but a glimpse of what could be. The angel is also not what she seems, but is, in reality, Satan. This is his final temptation. All Christ has to do is step off the cross for real and he can have a normal life and the love of a wife and children, but Christ also knows the consequences and that his life up until now will have meant nothing. So, he stays and dies on the cross, sacrificing not just his life, but all of the simple but all too important desires we take for granted. At least, that's where the movie stands for me. Personally, I don't believe in a human Christ, but I believe that part of him was human. I don't know what that would be like. I have absolutely no concept of that. Still, I adore this movie, which does have its flaws, although I haven't really gone into them here, for offering a different interpretation of his life and who he was. Dafoe's Christ is a beautifully compassionate man and the only film Christ I have ever really cared about. This particularly portrayal effects me in a way films like The Passion simply cannot. It shows me not merely Christ, but what he could have had and what he really gave up.

67. The Adventures of Baron Munchausen

2006-01-16T21:18:00.000-05:00

Terry Gilliam, 1988

Holy catfish! Two Terry Gilliam movies in a row?! What are the odds? Is he bribing me? Still here it is and, not only is it another Terry Gilliam movie, it is another movie where we’re never quite sure if the main character is who he claims or if he’s just a nut job. The character in question is Hieronymus Karl Frederick Baron von Munchausen. The Baron is, apparently, a German folk hero with many adventures and misadventures under his belt. Thus, it is no surprise that a German theater is putting on a play of the Baron’s adventures as a war wages beyond the walls of the town outside. However, the play is quickly interrupted by a man who claims they have it all wrong. You see, he knows the real stories and they were much more fantastic than those on the stage. How does he know? Why, he’s the Baron. The Baron proceeds to the city walls to see what he can do about the war, accompanied by a young girl. This is where we learn what the movie is going to be about and where it gets its heart and soul. Much like The Miracle on 34th Street, this is a story about a child’s faith come to life. Of course, the girl doesn’t believe that this is the Baron, but the look on her face when he is hit from behind by a cannon ball and proceeds to ride it to the enemy lines, where he grabs hold of another cannon ball’s handle for the ride back, is priceless. This sort of thing is what movies are all about. The ability to make you believe implicitly, if only for two hours, that there can be a better, more fantastic world.

The Baron then takes the girl on trips to the moon, the earth’s core, and the belly of a whale in search of his long lost comrades, which is another thing I love. If you haven’t seen the movie, and most of you probably haven’t, think of Jake and Elwood putting the band back together in The Blues Brothers. I just love the idea of finding out what happened to a group of characters after they retired and then bringing them back together for a final adventure. Another example of this is His Last Bow, the short story where we finally learn what ultimately became of Sherlock Holmes (he became a bee keeper in Sussex). Of course, I had no previous connection to these characters, but part of the brilliance Gilliam’s direction and construction of the story, along with John Neville’s engaging performance as the Baron, is that you feel like you knew them right from the start, and, what’s more, that you have missed them while they were away. It’s a damn fun movie that bombed drastically at the box office, but I promise you, it is has aged very, very well.

68. 12 Monkeys

2006-01-16T20:43:00.000-05:00

Terry Gilliam, 1995

Ah yes, the story of Davy Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork as they quest for eight more men to fill out the band. Oh. Wait. That’s 12 Monkees. Hell, that isn’t even a real movie. It’s one I made up! Damn my eyes! This movie is the excellent Terry Gilliam time travel film starring Bruce Willis. The plot here is that the future is crap, but it’s so crappy and it got crappy so suddenly that they have no idea how it got that way. The only clue they have is a mark reading “12 Monkeys” spray painted around the ruins of New York City. So, future scientists decide to send convicts back in time to find out what the mark means, for which they will earn their freedom. Bruce Willis is Cole, the convict in question. Unfortunately for Bruno, he gets sent back in time a little too far and his insistence on being a time traveler lands him in a mental hospital. The rest of the movie follows Cole’s struggle as he tries to discover whether or not he really is crazy and, if he’s not, then what is going to end the world.

I’m sorry to sound a little glib about this movie as, obviously, I like it a lot. The concept is just brilliant. Is he insane or isn’t he? And the best part is that we’re not sure, at least not for most of the film. For all we know, he could be from the future, but, then again, it could all be a delusion. Terry Gilliam is a brilliant director and one of the things he is best at is making you question the reality he has created. That is not to say that his future is fake, far from it. In fact, his sets are always superbly convincing. However, his future here is even more surreal than usual. It is dark and curved, as if the architects of the future all had a wide angle lens. It is a nightmare and one any man, particularly a convict, would be eager to escape. Further, Gilliam shoots and cuts these scenes with just enough ambiguity to stress that we, like Cole, simply cannot be sure if it is meant to be real.

And Bruce Willis, holy crap. I mean that. Bruce has a public image that is forever going to be a carbon copy of John McClane, his character from Die Hard. To the average guy, Bruce Willis will always be saying “Yipee-ki-yay, motherfucker.” I’m not saying there is anything wrong with that, but what is true is that Cole is nothing like McClane. Cole is, quite simply, an entire world away. Where McClane is a confident, take charge, guns blazing kind of guy and Cole, well, Cole isn’t. Cole isn’t sure of anything. He isn’t terribly likely to pick up a gun and he’s much more likely to follow another man than he is to take the lead. Then, there is one other man who I must single out, although I am loathe to. Brad Pitt is just pretty damn good. Pitt plays the son of a rich scientist. It also so happens that Pitt is crazy, which is how he meets Cole. I have to give it to Pitt; he’s bat shit insane here. Really just bouncing off the walls, frothing lunatic. Who’d have thunk? Finally, big shout outs to co-stars Christopher Plummer, always great, and Frank Gorshin as the head psychiatrist. The Riddler as the head of the asylum? Brilliant. You really can’t trust this movie, can you?

69. Road to Perdition

2006-01-16T19:29:00.000-05:00

Sam Mendes, 2002

“None of us will ever see heaven.”

Road to Perdition is a strikingly beautiful film. It is the story of a mob killer named Michael Sullivan, played by Tom Hanks, who takes his son, Michael Jr., on the run after his boss’ son kills his wife and youngest child. The boss is John Rooney, an unquestioned criminal power played by Paul Newman. Michael and Michael Jr. bond on the road as they look for safety, enact a sort of financial revenge on Rooney, and evade Harlen Maguire, a photographer/assassin played to perfection by Jude Law. The story itself can be a little predictable, but is ultimately pretty touching. Really, though, this film shines in two big places. The first is acting. Director Sam Mendes has assembled a truly fantastic cast for his second film. Tom Hanks headlines and while its been a while since he left comedy for more dramatic roles, this is his first real turn as an anti-hero. He is, after all, a killer. Still, Hanks is terrific. He has the father figure aspects of the plot down and you really buy his love for not only Michael Jr., but for the wife and child he lost. He also exhibits a deep, even palpable, emotional connection to his surrogate father figure, Rooney himself. Rooney is an interesting character. He is both mob boss and devout Catholic. One of the film’s most memorable scenes involves Rooney deep in prayer at church when confronted by Michael. What Rooney reminds Michael of is that they are both killers and that, because of what they do and the choices they’ve made, the only thing they can be sure of is that neither will reach heaven. To have a man who is so clearly devout take a job which is so sure to end in perdition itself and to have him both know and acknowledge it is really a terrific thing. It’s a complex aspect of the mob/Catholicism connection that is simply ignored all too often. Of course, Newman is incredible in the role. Despite being about 107, he exudes a power and authority unseen in most actors in the prime of their youths. Jude Law is also a lot of fun, playing an early sort of psychopath.

The other place this film really excels is in the cinematography. Sadly, this was the last film Conrad Hall shot before he died. Among Hall’s other films are such classics as American Beauty, director Sam Mendes’ first film, Marathon Man, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and Cool Hand Luke, but, of all his films, Road to Perdition stands in my mind as his greatest achievement. From the opening snow covered scenes to the haunting beach house conclusion, this film, for me, illustrates the art of the cinematographer like no other. I’m not really sure what else to say about Hall or his contribution here except that I would have loved to see what he had in store next. I’m a big fan of his work on American Beauty and was hoping that he and Mendes would team once again. This year saw the release of Mendes’ latest film, Jarhead, but, sadly, the trailers show none of the visual beauty evidenced in even the earliest shots from Perdition. Ultimately, Conrad Hall has become who I think of when I think of cinematography and while there are films which I think look even better than this, those opening shots of Michael Jr. riding his bicycle through enormous snow drifts will always stay with me.

70. Never Give a Sucker an Even Break

2006-01-10T14:46:00.000-05:00

Edward F. Cline, 1941

“I didn’t squawk about the steak, dear. I merely said I didn’t see the horse that used to be tethered outside here.”

Much as with my love for The Jerk, my love for this film is really more about my admiration of the man at its center, W. C. Fields. In this, his last picture as a leading man, W. C. plays his usual grouch/cheapskate/boosehound character. This time, however, the film is a bit more transparent. Instead of hiding behind a ridiculous name or commonplace, family man style role, Fields plays himself, credited as “The Great Man.” The plot, such as it is, revolves around W. C. pitching a film idea to a big wig at Esoteric Studios. The film will star Fields and his costar Gloria Jean, here playing Fields’ niece. Gloria Jean is an excellent foil for fields. Unlike Fields’ other seminal costars, like Mae West (in only one film, admittedly), Charlie McCarthy, or Baby Leroy, you really get a feeling that Gloria loves her “Uncle” Bill and that he loves here. The way he identifies with Gloria is wholly different and much more fatherly. He shows her none of the thinly veiled contempt he shows the rest of the world in his films. Ultimately, Gloria softens our perception of Fields just a bit, making him that much more likable and sympathetic. Of course, we don’t want a Fields who is wholly likable, that would defeat the entirety of his screen persona. Luckily, the trademark Fields wit is aimed squarely at ever other character in the film, which includes Marx Brothers regular Margaret Dumont.

Anyway, the film begins on the studio with Fields pitching his idea. The rest of the film, then, is that idea. Fields and Gloria fly to Mexico to sell wooden nutmegs at a Russian colony. Fields falls out of the plane and meets Mrs. Hemogloben, Dumont, some sort of Vampire/cannibal person. Noticing that she’s rich, Fields begins to woo Hemogloben, while making eyes at her cute daughter. The scenario also involves a gorilla (played by a man in a gorilla suit). It’s all very confusing, but, then, the film really isn’t about the plot, but about showcasing Fields, which the film does expertly. The ape, Dumont, Gloria Jean, a waitress earlier on, they all give Fields ample opportunities to exercise his character and humor. The restaurant sequence is particularly good, giving some excellent bits of physical comedy and witticisms like the one at the top of this post. To be honest, I’m finding this a hard one to write up. It’s such a weird little movie, but also such a perfect showcase that I really just have to suggest watching it. Like I say, the soda fountain scene is great, although Fields clearly doesn’t like having to go to a soda fountain instead of a saloon, “I feel like someone stepped on my tongue with muddy feet,” as is anything in and around Dumont’s castle, and anything with the ape. That said, I’ll leave you with a final line, uttered by Fields after Gloria asks him why he isn’t married, “I was in love with a beautiful blonde once, dear. She drove me to drink. That’s the one thing I’m indebted to her for.”

71. Sin City

2006-01-09T15:02:00.000-05:00

Robert Rodriguez (with Frank Miller and Quentin Tarantino), 2005

This was undoubtedly my favorite movie of last year, standing head and shoulders above all the others. Mind you, the film had a little bit of work to do to win me over. I am not a fan of Robert Rodriguez. I haven’t enjoyed any of his previous films, which include, eclectically, the Spy Kids series and From Dusk Till Dawn. In fact, I’m still mad that Spy Kids lied to me, telling me that sharks remain still while sleeping. According to my grandpa, that simply isn’t the case, and if you can’t trust a man who wears a little gold octopus around his neck, who can you trust? Further, I just think he’s kind of an ass. I understand the desire to shun certain Hollywood traditions and techniques, but there is no need to be an ass about it. Ultimately, he strikes me as the sort of ultimately self-indulgent filmmaker typified by his friend Quentin Tarantino. And that’s another thing I didn’t like about this film going in. Special guest director: Quentin Tarantino. The hell is that? I don’t care if you let your friend direct a couple of minutes of your movie, and that’s all he did direct, but it just seems like a bit much to then spread his name all over your advertising. I don’t think I saw a single commercial that didn’t hype Tarantino’s involvement. Then there’s the director’s credit for Frank Miller. True, Miller created, wrote, and drew the Sin City comics and had a huge influence, obviously, on the look of this film, but this is also the guy who wrote RoboCop 2 and RoboCop 3. I would be the first to acknowledge his influence on this film and I do think he deserves more credit than “created by” given how slavishly faithful the film is to the originals, but director? I don’t think so.

Still, this film is #71 on my list of all time favorite films, so, clearly, despite my early misgivings, I have to say, this film kicks ass. It may well be the ultimate pinnacle of everything that is film noir. The image and story are black as night with heavy moral gray areas. The action is brutal and the the whole thing drips with barely realized sexuality, which I think is more effective than if the film were to be more sexually explicit. It is also, and this is where it divides audiences, heavily masochistic. This is a man’s world, in the 1950’s sense of the word. Men are the heroes. Women are victims and they need to be protected. Even the whore army of the second third of the film, set up initially as self reliant, needs the direction of a man, Clive Owen, to be effective and just watch how each of these supposedly self confident/reliant prostitutes jump to his orders from the get go. The story and action are all raw as can be. Brutality is the name of the game. This is a world of crime, where the only real heroes are criminals themselves. All of this, of course, echoes the sensibilities of the finest film noir. The portion of this film which really sets it apart from the noir of years earlier, however, is the look. Sin City is an unbelievably stylish film. Primarily, this is a black and white picture, but certain elements are isolated and colored. Sometimes, it is a woman’s lips or a cars exterior, but it can be several other things, including the yellow skin of a deformed killer. Occasionally, the film moves into two dimensional silhouettes, which are absolutely breath taking. The rain falls in stark white comic book slashes and the blood pours out in a fluorescent white. The tremendous visuals and the three plots, none of which last so long as to beg heavy scrutiny, are assisted by tremendous performances from a who’s who of acting talent: Bruce Willis, Jessica Alba, Clive Owen, Rosario Dawson, Elijah Wood, Benicio Del Toro, Michael Clarke Duncan, Rutger Hauer, and, best of all, in a gangbuster performance, Mickey Rourke. True, even after being arrested by the realities of the film, there are elements that don’t quite work. For instance, the prelude and epilogue never quite work and only prove to be confusing. Despite its flaws, Sin City is an unforgiving, stylish, visceral thrill time and again.

72. Metropolis

2006-01-05T13:33:00.000-05:00

Fritz Lang, 1927

This is the first silent film to appear on the list and the oldest. It is also one of the most influential science fiction films of all time, with such films as Blade Runner clearly paying homage to its brilliant design. Ultimately, Metropolis is the last great German fairy tale, taking many of the common tropes of the fairy tale and transplanting them to a modern world. Metropolis is a story of haves and have nots, a society divided into the ultra rich and those who labor in the depths below the city. It has a handsome prince, Freder, reimagined as the son of an industrial baron, and a beautiful damsel, here a machine turned woman by the real villain of the piece, a sort of mad scientist with a mechanical hand. Metropolis is a fable then about man and machine, about how he resists it and fights against it, but how it slowly becomes a permanent and inescapable part of his life, whether that is in a man’s mechanical hand or in the presence of a machine woman made flesh. What I especially like about this film, though, is that, while it offers a fairly standard fairy tale narrative, it does not offer a standard fairy tale resolution. As the film ends one can clearly hold certain people responsible for the downfall of the city and realize the inherent wrong of the sharply divided society, but it is much harder to see where the film stands on the issue of industrialization in general. It neither says that the machine age is wholly bad, like the mad scientist, or wholly good, like the machine woman, Maria. Instead, the film seems to argue for a sort of moderation between two extremes. It recognizes the benefits of the machine age and, in doing so, avoids the standard black and white distinction in favor of something just a little more ambiguous.

Whether he likes it or not, this is probably Lang’s two best films (although Metropolis lost a great deal of favor in Lang’s eyes when he learned that it was Hitler’s favorite film). His eye as a director is perfect and he brilliantly crafts a future world that does not seem for one instant fake. Given the age of this film, I think it easy for most people who haven’t seen it to imagine a sort of Flash Gordon world of spaceships on strings and men with cardboard wings. Instead, Lang’s vision and ever single visual effect is utterly convincing. The city and, indeed, each individual building look wholly realistic, particularly the city’s central spire. It would have been easy for Lang to take an easy road on the production design and dismiss cheap sets as fitting for a fairy tale type story, but instead of offering a children’s theater version of his fable, Lang offers what may be the closest thing to a live action Disney classic. As brilliantly innovative and well designed as any of the earlier Disney films are, Metropolis is able to stand toe to toe with each, despite the limitations of both live action and 20s German film in general. The film is filled with brilliant and eternal visuals. One is Freder descending into the underground world of the workmen and taken the place of a fallen worker operating a machine that resembles a giant clock face. As Freder fights the hands of time, we first see him for the Christ figure he will become, as he appears almost crucified on the hands of the great clock, a brilliant metaphor in and of itself. The other great visual of the film is the machine woman herself, pictured in the poster. There is nothing fake about her costume, which resembles a sexy C-3PO. It appears to be made of rubber and leather and is one of the most convincing costumes of the entire silent era. Of course, that is the key to Metropolis’ power and legacy. It may be a fable, but it is an utterly convincing one.