Just Watch.

1776

Peter H. Hunt, 1972

I was completely obsessed with this musical when I was about fourteen -- played the CD (remember those, kids?) endlessly. And, looking at this film, it's not hard to see why. The songs are catchy in a poppy, Schoolhouse Rock kind of way, and the lyrics are very nerdy-word: it's not everday that you see "Connecticut" rhymed with "etiquette" and "predicate."

But the real reason for 1776's appeal is that its central conceit is an utterly charming one: that our founding fathers were not august demigods, but a bunch of drunkards, horndogs and egotists -- impassioned, intelligent, but undeniably human. And that comes shining through in this adaptation.

The only problem, filmically speaking, is that most of the action takes place within the Congressional hall, which doesn't make for the most visually interesting picture. There is some fancy weaving camera movement, which livens things up a bit, and the outside scenes are lively enough. But there's no denying it lags a bit.

Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters

Paul Schrader, 1985

I went into this with some preconceived notions. I thought it would be an odd, fanboy sort of thing. I expected it to give off that same weird vibe as that one white boy who's freakishly into Japanese culture. You know the type I'm talking about.

Of course, to use the word "fanboy" presumes a level of amateurishness, which is in no way a correct assessment of this movie. It's masterfully done, and visually and stylistically audacious in a way that few films are.

One, Two, Three!

Billy Wilder, 1961

I don't know how many of you are familiar with a film called Ninotchka. It's a delightful little romantic comedy by Ernst Lubitsch, that tells the old familiar story: good Soviet girl meets capitalism (via Paris), capitalism seduces good Societ girl. This movie is basically the same thing, except here capitalism doesn't seduce a good communist boy. Rather, it  beats him over the head repeatedly until he realizes resistance is futile.

Capitalism here is represented by two worthy emissaries. James Cagney plays a particularly affable and effective kind of ugly American, pugnacious and brash, who keeps his head down and gets the job done through sheer force of will and a loud voice. As the American temptress, Pamela Tiffin displays the kind of self-confident ditziness that never fails to win people over. It's a performance worthy of America's favorite wily ditz, Miss Marilyn Monroe. Poor Horst Buchholz, whose socialist leanings are telegraphed through aborted tirades and his newsboy cap, doesn't stand a chance. But since when did capitalism fight fair?

As with all of Wilder's films, the dialogue sparkles here. It's a joy to hear the banter ricochet back and forth, dropping little cues that eventually build up to a punchline. Seemingly trivial, offhand comments build up to a big finish. It's a cliched thing to say, but like all cliches, it has a kernel of truth: they don't make 'em like this anymore.

Madea Goes to Jail

Tyler Perry, 2009

My mom and I were so excited about this one, and I have to say I was let down. You might say it's my own damn fault for having any expectations going into a movie like this, and maybe you're right.

The thing is, I didn't expect this movie to be good, per se. I did expect it to be funny, and it really failed on that point. I thought Madea would be more of a character, but the truth is that there's barely enough substance there to get through a 3-minute SNL skit. To say that most of the movie is like having a fight with a toddler who just repeats everything you say is not so much a metaphor for how this film never gets off the ground as it is an actual description of all of the scenes.

I feel really conflicted about not liking this, because the fact of the matter is that Tyler Perry's movies are a touchstone for a criminally under-served audience. He also regularly employs talented black actors, who are never considered for parts this big in Hollywood. So I guess I'm comfortable disliking it just as much as I dislike every crappy, aspiring-to-mediocrity chick flick that gets churned out every other month.

Phasers to Stun

Star Trek, JJ Abrams, 2009

First things first: I'm not a die hard Trekkie, although I do like to watch the original series for camp value (it's almost as good as Batman for that.) I also don't watch Lost and didn't watch Alias, so I have no particular feelings towards JJ Abrams.

So I am not one of the all people for whom this movie must be all things.  But I thought it was pretty damn fantastic.

What do we require of a summer blockbuster? It should look like the millions of bucks it undoubtedly cost to create. (If you too, had the misfortune of seeing the GI Joe and Transformers 2 trailers that I did, you'll know that this doesn't always pan out.) But boy does it ever here. The whole picture looked sleek and shiny and expensive, and if the series is using the same quality sets, we're in for a real treat. Something Abrams did a lot was show us slow-motion explosions or battles in space, all of which were beautiful on that breathtaking, Battlestar Galactica level.

Remaking a popular franchise also requires that you walk a fine line between giving the fans what they want and making the material your own. I thought that the through the wormhole of time reboot they accomlished here was a wonderfully audacious (and surprisingly coherent) move, one that gives them a lot of room to explore new storylines.

Valentino is... Caligula!

Valentino: The Last Emperor; directed by Matt Tyrnauer, 2008

This is basically a movie about all the crazy shit you can do with your dogs if you're rich.

OK, so it's a movie about fashion, and if you love fashion you've already seen it or know that you want to.

But if you're not a fashion person, there's still a lot going on here for you to enjoy.  It's a movie about a way of life and an art form that few still practice and is rapidly disappearing. It's about old world practices and modern business.

It's also a movie about love, about giving yourself over to someone else's vision as a sustained act of love over decades and decades. We never really discover what motivation Valentino's long time companion Giancarlo Giammetti has for working for this man, but we believe him when he says that he's happy. And the two of them engage in some truly grade-A entertaining bickering.

Tyrnauer worked as a reporter for Vanity Fair, and the movie has a Vanity Fair feel to it: glossy and glamorous, with lots of witty details and asides.

Weird Movies: The Elephant Man

David Lynch, 1980.

So I promise that if there's another one of these posts, it wont be on another Lynch film. At least not straightaway.

Anyway, it's often said that you win Oscars for either a) putting on weight or b) the liberal use of prosthetics. This movie suggests the former is better than the latter, since John Hurt lost out for this one to a bloated Bobby DeNiro in Raging Bull.

I haven't seen Raging Bull (I know, it's kind of a long list) but I should just put it out there that I love John Hurt more than words (there could seriously be a whole post about it) and think he does a fucking amazing job here.

This movie is also a case study for the hindrances of prosthetics; the ones on John Hurt are so extensive they could have ruined the performance.  But not my boy Johnny; you can't keep a good man down, even if you cover him in latex. All he can use are his eyes and his voice, but boy does he ever make them work for him. He has this way of looking into middle distance that absolutely slays you, and his cadences of eternal hopefulness are pretty gutwrenching too.

Anthony Hopkins is also wonderful. He has a softspoken gentleness about him, a quality you almost entirely forget when you think about Hannibal Lecter, and it works perfectly here. The look on his tear-stained face after he's seen Merrick for the first time is just spot-on.

Weird Movies: Eraserhead

OK, so I know some people really hate David Lynch movies because they're weird and don't make any sense. Which is a fair point, but one to which I say: there is logical, plot sense and then there is emotional sense, and while they may be short on the former, Lynch's movies tend to have a whole lot of the latter.

Let's take the dinner eating scene, with that awful chicken, as a case in point. You want to know what that scene is "about?" You know when you go over to a friend's house for dinner (multiply times a million if this is a person you're dating,) and you're nervous to begin with and then the food is, not bad exactly, but just kind of weird and markedly different from the food you eat at your house and it makes you feel even more awkward, having to push around those awful little nugget potatoes and pretend it's exactly what you want to eat and oh my God why are they that color orange? And then you go to get some mustard or something and then the mother says oh no that's not how we use the mustard in this house and then you're all jumpy and upset and have to pretend like your instinct is not to do something else with the mustard? And why is there something special you're supposed to do with the mustard anyway? That's really fucking weird, isn't it?

That's what that scene is about. And I defy you to say you have not had that exact experience at some point in your life. And that kind of shit, that kind of drop-dead emotional, accuracy, that pointillism of neuroses, is why I love David Lynch.

Talking about hyperemotional accuracy, it's a very Lynchian thing to tap into our feelings about life by going over the top. That's why I think this movie says more, better about being young and poor in an American city than any social realist documentary could ever hope to.

He also manages to say so much about our yearning for human connection, however bizarre the circumstances. That final scene of Jack Nance embracing the lady in the radiator is so touching and real, because you can feel the crazy intensity of the longing.

The Old Dead Bastard Film Festival: L'Avventura

I went into this one expecting the cinematic equivalent of cod liver oil, an experience to be endured rather than enjoyed.

But I should know myself better. This happens all the time: I go into one of these vaguely New Wave movies expecting a willfully obscure nightmare, and then I end up loving it. L'Avventura may very well end up being one of my all-time faves. 

This is a movie about surfaces, our obsession with them and the way we play with them. This is elegantly reflected in the film's striking, modernist look: the shallow depth of frame and the abstract angles heighten the feelings of tense, desperate flatness.

According to Zizek, there's such a thing as a cinematic "big Other:" someone who fulfills the necessary, but seemingly accidental, function of maintaining the status quo. He uses the nun at the end of Vertigo as a typical example: if she doesn't show up, startling Kim Novak and causing her to fall to her death, then Jimmy Stewart has to be reconciled to his relationship with this real live, complicated woman. And that's a potentially revolutionary possibility -- one that's got to be nipped in the bud. Enter the nun, or the 'big Other."

Scary/Funny Part Two: An American Werewolf in London

So I have no idea why this is one of the 1001 movies you must see before you die. You have my permission to skip it, if you like; I'll write you a pass.

It's not that I don't like it, it's just not at all a "must" sort of movie. It is, in fact, the sort of movie that used to be part of Comedy Central's film rotation, which is about as far away from "must" as you can get. In other words, it's a particularly clever, well-crafted bit of fluff.

The comedy comes from the juxtaposition of the otherworldly and the mundane: Average young dude becomes werewolf. In the process, dude discovers that being a werewolf is a) a huge pain in the ass, and b) often really boring. 

My favorite part is when our hero is whiling away the day of the full moon, waiting for nightfall to see what, if anything, is going to happen to him. It's a kicky little montage of him doing dull, time-killing activities, but it's the context (and "Bad Moon Rising" on the soundtrack) that makes it sing.