Gaslight (1944)

Ingrid Bergman won her first Oscar for her portrayal of Paula Alquist, a naive and love stricken girl who marries a man she meets two weeks after their introductions. Orphaned as a young girl, she lived with her mother's sister until one day she came across the strangled corpse of her aunt. No killer nor any motive were determined. After ten years of living in Italy, she is seduced by a charming Frenchman and convinced to return to her home in London where her guardian was strangled. The killer, of course, is the Frenchman, but that is only a spoiler if you're incurably dense.

What I believed was going to happen in this film after learning his identity was that the audience would know that Paula's new husband was the murderer with a strange fixation on her family. Slowly but surely the pieces would fall into place for her or one of Paula's two maids, and then it would become something of a cat and mouse chase as he finally tried to kill her as well. Oh how my powers of perception failed me. To be sure, that is indeed how the story began, but it took a sinister, and much more chilling, path than what I might have guessed.

Instead it becomes a gothic tale of mystery and madness as her husband, Gregory (Charles Boyer), instead tries to confine her in the house, and systematically attempts to drive her out of her mind. The house they move into is perfect for such a endeavor. It is full of deep shadows and squeaky doors. Everything was preserved just as it was after the death of Paula's aunt, and entering the house the old sights bring forth memories. She tells Charles of the death of her opera-singing aunt, how she found her before the great fireplace with the life choked out of her, underneath the giant portrait of her as Empress Theodora (she died operatically as well, didn't she?).

The early bliss of their marriage turns sour when Charles begins to point out Paula's forgetfulness. She begins to lose things and can't recall conversations. Eventually he begins to convince her to remain at home; she really isn't well. But things begin to turn from mere forgetfulness to lunacy when, during the nights when Charles is at work, she begins hearing noises--bumps above her bed, creaking, and the gaslights in her room dim as though there were somebody else in the house that she is never able to find. The maids neither see nor hear anything, but it's just as well, they need their jobs and wouldn't contradict the master of the house who tells her it is her illness.

Self-induced psychosis is fun and scary to watch. This is labeled as a thriller, or a mystery, but I rather thought of it as a horror story. It was almost Victor Hugo-esque in its concept, and it sent chills down my spine. Perhaps I would not have looked at it that way had it not been for the stellar performance given by Bergman. There is a reason that she is always placed with Kate Hepburn and Bette Davis as one of the three greatest actresses of all time, and it is because an audience can know the absolute truth about Paula--that her husband is trying to break her mind--and yet at the same time she can still convince us that she is going insane, and that what she sees and hears is all in her head. It gave me goosebumps every time the lights dimmed in her room simply because the look of dread and hopelessness in her eyes was real.

The cinematography and art direction in this film are fantastic. The old Victorian town home is exactly what it needed to be for the purposes of this film. It was spooky, and dusty, there was a constant fog out front, and the winding staircase brought the audience from the safety of the maids' room and the den to the nightmare of the next landing which seems a world away from any help.

My trouble with the film was the motive of the husband. I kept asking myself what they were over and over again. Was he simply a sadist? Did he move beyond killing to a new level of evil? Was there something else that I wasn't seeing? What was to be gained by getting rid of her? She had nothing to offer. When I found out his motive I was confused, and frankly I wasn't buying it. Too much time had elapsed in the film for him not to get what it was he wanted. Watch it and tell me if I'm wrong.

The slightly disappointing ending was forgivable to a really unnerving beginning and middle. Any fan of Bergman's beauty and talent, or anyone who just wants a good campfire ghost story should check this one out.

3.5/4

Into the Storm (2009)

Winston Churchill is one of the most recognizable and influential figures in the20th century--in the history of England even. He was one of the few men whose genius was too great for those around him to accept, as his personality engulfed those around him and made them nervous. He was a master of words, had a razor sharp wit, the mind of a soldier and the mind of a child, was megalomaniacal, manic depressive, and the most ardent British patriot of his time. His life was filled to the brim with amazing stories because he believed from a very young age that he was destined for greatness. He saw his future and he took it.

Brendan Gleeson plays the statesman beginning from the day he became the Prime Minister and Hitler invaded Western Europe, to the end of the next election after the conclusion of the war. The narrative jumps back and forth between the war and the day of the election results to give (what I might guess) a "shock" to the viewer when they find that he does not win a second election. How could the most important man in Western Europe not get voted for again? He had just masterfully steered Britian through the most tumultuous period her history, and he was rewarded with "The Boot." Into the Storm's point of view is clear. They show the best of Churchill and give the public a slap on the wrist for missing out on more time with the greatest Prime Minister that England has ever known.

This is a made for television film, and a continuation of The Gathering Storm, starring Albert Finney. I kept having to remind myself of that to try and give a little bit of slack when watching this, but the beginning and the end of it is that I just was not impressed by this movie. Winston Churchill is my hero so perhaps I hold too high of expectations for a wartime biopic about him, but I'm pretty sure that some of issues with this movie are qualified. Gleeson did and okay job; I would give him a B-. They cast an actor far too young to play a 70 year old man, but Gleeson is a great actor who I have enjoyed in a great many films, and there is a definite resemblance between he and the rotund bulldog. My problem, though, is that Gleeson did not find the great many shades of Churchill. The man was fantastically funny, but for the first half of the film Gleeson made him somber, morose, and unlikable. Churchill was known far and wide his personality that was as big as his pant size, but all that I saw was a moody politician.

The script did began to loosen up towards the second half, as did his acting, but it still was not the Churchill that I should like to have seen. This story does not really talk so much about political maneuvers or show intense fighting sequences. There is some, yes, but mostly it is about the statesmanship that he employed back at 10 Downing Street. Through much of it we see him painting, or choosing the perfect word for his next speech while his secretary scrambled desperately to copy down all of his dictation. The movie did a great job of adding lots of small factoids about the man that only those that know a considerable amount about him would know. Yes there was the immense hat collection and the cigar, but there was also the mention of his estate, Chartwell, his silk pajamas that he had to wear because his skin was so sensitive, the fact that he had only taken the underground once in his life, his necessary afternoon nap. They even added the hilarious moment when FDR accidentally catches him in the nude, though they changed the punchline (which irritated me to no end). Great tidbits like these should have led to a more developed character than what was delivered.

Clementine, his wife, was played by Janet McTeer, and I thought she was just awful. What I know about the Churchill's is that throughout their marriage, even though Winston was a difficult husband, those two were very much in love with one another, and would be until their dying days. This movie showed none of that. The two were at each other's throats, showed no affection, and Clemmie was written a lot more stupidly that I know she was. At the end of the movie we see that their marriage will be all right in the end, and although I know that to be true I did not believe it for two seconds. The film did not let me believe it, and that made me sad.

What I did like about this film was the inclusion of so much original text from Churchill himself. The screenwriter did take some liberties with that dialogue, but I recognized much of the language from Churchill's speeches and noted quotes. How could you not include some of his work, though? The man was a master of the English language, and no twopence writer in London could ever beat him, so why try? Hearing his words spoken aloud with the gravity that director gave was very powerful and I enjoyed it immensely.

Bottom line: I would have done it better.

2/4

Sideways ( 2004)

I find this movie very difficult to review, simply because it is so good. It is the modern classic comedy of our time and, like wine, I hope that in forty years it is ready to be opened and enjoyed even more so than today. This movie is something to be treasured every moment, from its superb acting to its careful and loving screenplay, and is a film that I think people can learn something new from after each viewing. I know that I certainly learned a lot about Pinot...

One week before Jack's wedding, his best buddy Miles (Paul Giamatti) takes him on a week long excursion into California wine country for tasting and golf. Jack's mind is set, rather, on finding a few girls to nab before he takes his vows. The result is a more sophisticated, thought provoking, and deeply emotional road trip movie about two completely different men at crossroads in their lives, trying to make it though the week with their worlds still in tact.

Miles, the central character of the film, is a pretentious, lonely, self-deprecating, divorcee who drowns his depression in wine. Apart from teaching middle school and trying to get a semi-autobiographical novel with a wandering point of view and no clear ending published he spends most of his time at wineries and local restaurants, testing his pallet and honing in his mastery of words of how to describe them. His favorite is Pinot (we learn why), he hates Merlot (we don't learn why), and where the average person can sniff a wine and smell strawberries, he will come out with, "and, oh, there's just like the faintest soupcon of like, asparagus and just a flutter of a, like, a nutty Edam cheese." That's the humor in this film. It's not for everyone, but to anyone who has known a "Miles" sometime in their life will find this movie so enriching.


Jack (Thomas Hayden Church) is Miles' opposite and other half. A moderately successful actor of soap operas and car commercials, Jack is about to secure his future by marrying the daughter of a wealthy Armenian. jack still doesn't have his life planned out, he lives in the moment, leans on Miles for reasonable advice (when he is not trying to pry a bottle from Miles' drunken hands), and seems to not want to grow up. For him, wine tasting and golf with Miles seems like the perfect excuse to cut loose and find a woman or two before he makes the biggest and obviously the scariest commitment of his life.


The two do find women, but end up getting more than they bargain for in the process, as each turns out to be exactly what they need. For Miles there is Maya (Virginia Madsen), a waitress with a love of wine, a calm demeanor, and a good listening ear. For Jack there is Stephanie (Sandra Oh), spunky and carefree--she rides a motorcycle. In their week they fall for these women...well, as much as Jack is able to love, and as much as Miles will allow someone to love him.

There are some scenes in this movie that I felt could have gone on forever and was saddened to see that they didn't. The screenwriters had such love for their characters which was obvious and, like Miles, they are so good with words. the script nabbed a deserved Oscar nomination for its marvelously sharp dialogue, and won it, I suspect for one scene in particular. There is a moment about halfway into the film in which Miles and Maya sit out on the front porch of Stephanie's house talking wine. They describe what it is they like about it, and finally Maya asks why it is that Miles has such a strong fondness for Pinot. In a beautiful and tender monologue he tells of the fickle grape from which the wine comes from, how it doesn't like hot temperatures or too much humidity, how it needs constant love and attention from a caring and patient grower in order to bring forth the most rich and exciting flavors. He is talking about himself, and it damn near broke my heart. he is responded to with an equally moving bit from Maya about the life cycle of wine. She responds with such intensity in her eyes. It's a speech about finding love in life.

That same scene earned Madsen her Oscar nomination, and should have earned Giamatti one as well. He was rooked out of one for what is definitely his best work and it is very frustrating, especially since this was the critic favorite of 2004; there are two actor's nominations which I most certainly would have given up a spot for. I think I feel so strongly for the characters simply because I can imagine them going about in day to day situations. they did not seem like actors saying lines as much as real people having and expressing thoughts,and dealing with complex emotions in the only ways that they know how. I related to Jack and Miles--as much as a twenty year old can I suppose--and the relationship that the two have with each other. There is a back story which is so evident, and that is very hard to do. To create a history for your own character is hard enough, but to do it with multiple people is an accomplishment worth the highest praise.

This film is a tremendous result of inspiration and talent. It is painful to watch at times, in the end it is full of smiles and chuckles. It certainly is not a laugh out loud, riotous comedy. Those sorts of laughs come from lesser humor. This is a comedy that makes you think and appreciate how spot on these filmmakers are in their view of the lives of these two men.

4/4

Steamboat Bill Jr. (1928)

Buster Keaton's character in this film has been described as a dandy, and as effete. These are the two words I would use to describe him anyway so I don't feel bad about stealing them. An effete young dandy returns home to meet his estranged father, who is the owner of one of two rivaling steamboats along a river. His father, the salty seaman is mortified to find his son standing at 5'5," wearing a beret, oversize pants, and a polka dot bow tie. He works hard to make sure Bill Jr. becomes a tough, fighting man in order to help him best his competing steamboat owner.

Things go askew, however, when it is discovered that while in Boston being educated, Bill Jr. fell in love with the daughter of the enemy. The ultimatum arises: become a man and earn the respect of his father, or follow his heart and run off with the girl of his dreams. Can "Steamboat Bill" Jr. change his ways and become more of a man, or will he crumble to his libido?

It doesn't really matter. Plot is never really the top priority in a Buster Keaton film--Buster Keaton is the top priority, and he delivers as usual. The film started slow, and I wondered if Keaton might have felt stifled as the film was not directed by him. Great master like he and Chaplin liked to direct themselves simply because they knew their limitations and were not hindered by ideas that were less than their genius. I judged too soon, though. Given time, the film shifts into full throttle, delivering heaps of laughs and the amazing physical prowess that Keaton is praised for.

Anyone who knows even a little bit about the star knows of the scene in which Keaton narrowly escapes serious physical harm when the face of a barn falls down, leaving Keaton unharmed as he slips right through the window of the second story. Steamboat Bill Jr. has the famous hurricane scene in which he uses all of the considerable number of acrobatic tricks that had up his sleeves, and then wandering--seemingly without purpose, lands on the mark before the house wall falls. A split second too late, too early, or if he had strayed a step too far to the left and he might have snapped his neck. Buster was known for his balls of steel, and I have to say that I felt faint after seeing that. There just aren't people like him anymore who will sacrifice everything for their films, and I really wish that his name had the staying power that Chaplin's had, because he was fucking amazing.

Beyond his daring stunts and wonderful physical humor, this movie is funny as hell. It's odd to say that the writing is really good in a silent film, but the writing is really good. There are probably only two dozen captioned lines, but nearly all of them were clever and got genuine laughs out of me. Also, his face is just priceless. I love that deadpan expression with those big, droopy eyes that says so much without him even twitching a muscle. As a comedic actor, I would love to know how he does that, because it is something very special.

This is a fast, fun movie, and totally worth the time, if for nothing else than for the amazing final twenty minutes.

3.5/4

The Help (2011)

Any film that tries to tackle race relations and the Civil Rights Movement has a certain set of standards which it is set against in order to distinguish itself from the humdrum, feel-good, white helps blacks garbage that is constantly turned out of Hollywood. These films should be inspiring and should give a sense of hope that someday boundaries will be broken and gaps will be closed, but urgency, reality, and challenging perspective should never be thrown by the wayside simply to leave a white audience with a smile on their faces. The Help, regrettably, never meets--let alone exceeds--these expectations, and simply relies on a very able cast to keep it afloat.

The trailers for this film tell all that the audience all that it needs to know about what they will see, think, and feel when going to see this movie, and looking around at the people in the theater I knew that this film would give them exactly what it promised. Based on the novel by the same name, the story looks at Skeeter (Emma Stone), the college educated liberal who comes back to Jackson, Mississippi to look after her sick mother and get a job writing in the local paper. When she returns, she finds herself disillusioned with the social dynamics of her town, and decides to write a book, in secret, about the injustices suffered by the black maids at the hands of their white, elitist bosses.

After much hard work she is finally able to convince Aibileen (Viola Davis), and Minny (Octavia Spencer) to help her with her book, at great personal risk to themselves, as that sort of fraternization was illegal in Mississippi at the time. From there it becomes an uphill battle as the three try to keep their project a secret from the white ladies of the town while trying to recruit their maids to help with the stories. And the plot goes where you might imagine....

I spent a considerable amount of time reflecting on this film and trying to decide why it was that I was disappointed. It was a good film, it made me laugh, it made me choke up, and there were parts that I was genuinely moved by what I saw on the screen, but nonetheless I left feeling oddly empty. This film glorifies the 'mammy' caricature, and so I asked myself why it was that these women who, when they were children were practically raised by these black women and loved them arguably more than their biological mothers, did they end up becoming the boss and exactly like their mothers? I suppose I hit that right on the head as the question is raised in the movie, but is never answered. I felt disappointed because I was left not learning anything knew about Jackson society or why it was that there was a shift from daughter to owner.

This film is simply like all of the other hackneyed, white and blacks band together for a common goal type of film, but it never takes the time to answer the questions that inevitably arise. There is conflict from the beginning, of course. Nearly all of the white characters except Skeeter, her cancer stricken mother, and the other ditsy white outsider Celia Foote (Jessica Chastain, in a role most unlike her one in The Tree of Life), are painted in broad strokes of the stereotypical, two-dimensional, racists who try at every point of the movie to reinforce the fact that they will not share a toilet seat with a black woman. Bryce Dallas Howard plays Hilly Holbrook, the face of evil for this circle of women who sets it upon herself to see that Skeeter and all of the black women of Jackson suffer every hardship they can. But like I said, this is established in the get-go. Very few new challenges arise, and it simply becomes a 137 minute trek to seeing Hilly and all of the other southern ladies get their comeuppance with the publishing of the book.

It is fun to see that happen, and like I was supposed to I enjoyed seeing the story unfold, but there was so much more that ought to have been tackled. I don't believe that authors or filmmakers should ever simply settle for entertainment, otherwise nobody learns anything, do they? As artists it is their responsibility to push the boundaries of what it is that people want to see, and then try to answer the questions that they raise with as much honesty as they can muster. I felt as though this film was something of an insult to the types of women that inspired Aibileen and Minny, because in the end it was Skeeter who got all of the glory and learned all of the lessons. It was an affirmation that white people need no longer feel guilty for the injustices that were suffered because I, as a white person, was obviously supposed to relate to Skeeter. The author of the book, and director, Tate Taylor, should have taken an editing eye to their work, and realized that they ought to have been more respectful of their subject matter. They sacrificed an honest approach to the material, and instead embellished a feel-good dramedy with unnecessary subplots with the mother, the love interest, and really spent too much time on the Hilly-Skeeter feud.

On the postives--which are strong enough to still earn this film a positive rating--there was terrific acting. I mean really terrific. Viola Davis as Aibileen will undoubtedly earn an Oscar nomination for her portrayal of the hard, passive fighter who decides she needs to fight for a cause, even if her name goes unknown. Davis is unknown by most film goers which is a pity as she is one of the most talented actresses working today. I certainly hope that The Help, which has been seen by many more viewers than originally anticipated, will be the jumping off point for a career that will rival Meryl Streep's. There was a scene towards the end of the movie in which she quite literally took my breath away. Davis missed out on her much deserved Oscar in Doubt a few years ago, but I have hope that this scene, and half a dozen others will garner her the gold. There were other many fine performances all around, but it was she who held this film aloft. I can't remember a film since Funny Girl in which I pushed through the scenes that hard simply to gasp for air when a single actress came on screen. This was her film, and I hope she is rewarded for it.

This film should have been the year's Precious, instead it was the year's Blind Side.

3/4

Lifeboat (1944)

"The sin ye do by two and two ye must pay for one by one."

The Master of Suspense, Alfred Hitchcock, examines what happens to a group of eight torpedo survivors as they find themselves stuck on a lifeboat together with the captain of the German U-Boat that sunk them. Among them is the sexy and career driven reporter,  a millionaire, a steward, a nurse, a radio operator, an engineer, a sailor, and a shell-shocked woman clinging to her dead baby. One by one they are collected in the boat and reveal their stories, all different but each bound to one another by the war against the Nazis. Then a ninth person is brought aboard who flops on deck and expels the dreaded "danke schoen."

What are eight Americans headed for England to do with a member of the enemy? Some say try to convert him, others to get him to a POW camp, and a couple who simply yell that he ought to be thrown overboard. Their situation becomes more complicated than a simple (well maybe not so simple) question of moral acts in war and unarmed prisoners, when a storm harms their boat, they lose their provisions, and find that they German has the knowledge and resources to get them to the British-controlled Bermuda.

There is a "review" by film critic Dave Kehr (whom I despise) who writes of Lifeboat: "At times, the films seems on the verge of rising above its frankly propagandistic intentions, but it never really confronts the Darwinian themes built into the material." This person really fails to see the intentions of Hitchcock and its writer, John Steinbeck, but not understanding that this entire movie is entirely structured to look at the ways that people interact when they have no weapons and a lack of basic materials to survive, but are stuck in close proximity with each other. Does the concept of "German" and "American" still keep true, or does nationality and the politics of nations go by the wayside when people are fighting not to dehydrate? Hitchcock's answers may not be as impartial as one might hope, but it is interesting to see the primal instincts reveal themselves and play out as hunger and thirst drive people to desperation.

As for its propagandist streaks, yes they are there. How could they not be? This film was released in 1944 which means that it was probably written two or three years earlier at the height of WWII, so would it not make sense that the film naturally sides with the Allies? After all I am sure that neither Hitchcock nor Steinbeck wanted to be thought of as Nazi sympathizers. But in relation to the Darwinian themes of the film, the German is shown to be the perfect survivor: shrew and calculating, but with knowledge and foresight that allows him to surpass his adversaries even though he is outnumbered. 

As always, Hitchcock creates a masterfully suspenseful film that takes place entirely in a space of about 10x20 ft. His direction is always top notch, and there is enough plot twists and drama to keep its audience engaged and entertained for the entire running time. The acting, particularly by the journalist played by Tallulah Bankhead, is very good, and Steinbeck's writing is wonderful. There is a terrific line: "Dying together's even more personal than living together." This movie is full of terrific bits like this, but then Steinbeck is one of the great American writers.

I'm not sure what I thought about the ending. I suppose I liked it, but there were so many terribly interesting and ironic ways that it might have ended that would have put a guilty smile on my face, and made me feel as sad as I would have been satisfied. It was a good ending--and probably the necessary ending--but not the most creative one. That's okay though, the rest of the movie had enough twists and emotional peaks and troughs that I definitely forgive it. 

3.5/4

Trafic (1971)

Jacques Tati is one of those rare undiscovered gems of foreign cinema who brings so much light and joy to those in the know, but simply flies under the radar by most of the rest of the film watching world. It saddens me to know there are powerhouses like Charlie Chaplin and Federico Fellini who are practically household names in the world of cinema, but a director like Tati, who has created beautiful works of extreme originality is only known (outside of France) to those who make a career out of knowing people just like him. He is one of my absolute favorite directors, and Trafic, though not his best film, encapsulates everything that there is to love about his work, and his alter ego.

Tati directed only five feature-length films, four of which he donned the caps of writer, director, and star. His alter persona, M. Hulot, is the Mr. Bean equivalent of France, but unlike Rowan Atkinson's clownish brilliance, Tati makes his mark as the creator of amazing, large scale sight gags, each done with absolute precision and almost divine execution. M. Hulot, with his tweed coat, umbrella, hat, pipe in mouth, is a little old man who inadvertently causes mayhem wherever he goes. He first appeared in Les vecances de Monsieur Hulot and since then has battled the modernizing world and all of the technical gadgetry that has come along with development.

In his latest outing, M. Hulot and his team of automobile designers try to bring their new "Camping Car" to Amsterdam where they will present it at an auto show along with 500 other designs. Hulot is the chief designer of the oddest and most miraculous of station wagons that the world has ever known, and most assuredly would be a huge success at the show. But getting it to Amsterdam becomes a series of unfortunate events in what turns out to be Tati's hilarious interpretation of the road trip movie. There are troubles with the truck that is hauling the car, they run out of gas, are pulled over by the cops, get into a car crash, suffer a flat tire, and all of the other little things that happen to car drivers in day to day situations.

Tati does what he always does, and that is he makes a film for the everyman. He makes a movie for the road ragers, the closet nose pickers, everyone who has dropped something in their lap and swerved while trying to pick it up, or gotten honked at for daydreaming when the streetlight finally turns green. Tati is such a favorite of mine because he sees the hilarity in things that we take for granted. Comedy is the firstborn of commonsense. He knows how the world functions, or should function in any case. It should work like the well oiled machines in the factory line where M. Hulot works. It should look like the sees of identical blue cars in the parking lot at the auto convention. But Tati knows better. He creates simple ironies like a owner of a car manufacture not being able to get his car to start, or the posh American girl who stows her hats where she should stow her spare tire.

Tati has such a joyous view on life, and takes pleasure at the smallest oddities. The movie has no message, none of his films do. He simply wants his audience to take the time to watch and to observe as he does. I feel like I do that, but not merely to the extent that he does, and it makes me smile when I do see the quirkiness in events that I might normally overlook.

This is not necessarily a laugh-out-loud type of movie--he is not that kind of director. You chuckle on the inside when you watch his films. But there are indeed moments when I laughed really, really hard. Halfway in there is a Rube Goldberg style car crash involving about a dozen cars, and afterwards everyone in the cars get  out and start doing a bunch of ridiculous stretches to get the kinks out of their joints. How clever is that? Seeing twenty people of all shapes and sizes doing the exact same goofy stunts...it's just hilarious. He also has a really amusing ongoing joke about a gas station that gives you a receipt as well marble bust of an historical figure when you shop there. How does one think of something like that? I love it.

Unfortunately this movie was not so much about the antics of M. Hulot, unlike his other movies. His bumbling character really is someone like Mr. Bean in that I see him as an old friend. He is kind, and will go out of his way to help you--even if he leaves a trail of carnage in his wake. That said, all of his movies are really bright, uplifting, and bemusing experiences. Trafic can bring a smile to anyone's face, and I would advise everyone to introduce themselves to my very good friend.

3.5/4

The Fly (1986)

Horror film gold is spun in this remake of the 1958 classic, as the gross and terrible is combined with characters that inspire sympathy into a premise that is nothing short of tragic. Jeff Goldblum, not an actor that I typically like, does a great job putting his twist on the spacey science nerd on the brink of discovering something revolutionary.

Goldblum plays Seth Brendle, a young man along the lines of Einstein right down to his fashion decisions, who has found a way to defy the laws of space and time with the means of teleportation. A young luscious reporter, Victoria (played by the ever lovely Geena Davis), discovers the man while sniffing around for a story at a banquet or science fundraiser of some sort, and Seth, desperate for female companionship at some level, reveals more to her about his project than he originally intends.

Bringing her back to the most bachelor of bachelor pads he teleports a very personal belonging of hers via his telepods—black spheres with sliding glass doors which teleport the matter inside of them. Thoroughly astounded she agrees to write a book about him and his process, effectively spending every waking hour with him until he can perfect the machine to send organic life instead of simply inanimate objects (there is a really disgusting experiment gone awry involving a very unfortunate monkey and his innards).

Of course a relationship develops between the two, much to the dismay of Victoria’s obsessive and very slimy ex-boyfriend, and by the time the machines are ready the two have fallen in love. But one fight later Seth, while in a drunken, sullen stupor and home alone, decides to teleport himself. At the last second a fly enters the telepod with him. It results with the computer giving its interpretation of the matter it encapsulated and producing a creature that id human, but spliced with a fly at the genetic level.

The rest of movie the audience gets to squirm in its seat as he slowly and repulsively turns into a giant disfigured monster, able to climb up walls and spit up digestive juices, but for most of the film simply looks like a cancerous mutant. The makeup is brilliant, but it is still Jeff Goldblum that we see beneath it all, and the fear and anger as he loses all that is human to become what he humorously names a "Brendlefly" registers the entire time.

What separates The Fly from other gross-out horror films is that it takes so much time and care to create characters that we love to see in love, and hate to see in pain. We watch in disbelief and sadness as Seth’s fingernails pop out, his ears fall off, and he changes from superhuman, to cripple, and then finally to something barely discernable, more insect than human, and we hate to see it happen. Some characters in films I am either indifferent to their suffering, and sometimes I even with the actors themselves could suffer at the hands of their tormentors simply because I hate their choices or their acting in general, but Goldblum is so likable, so charming, so witty, and so terribly human that that juxtaposition to his appearance is very upsetting. Davis, too, does a great job as the girlfriend confused and frightened by events far beyond her mental capacity, but wishing to help simply because she loves him so.

I liked this movie very much. It held me completely transfixed all of the way until its ending which threw me for a loop. I thought the chemistry between the two actors was very convincing, his degeneration was well paced and believable (even if the science was not), and it is just a really absorbing concept. Everybody likes a good story of the mad scientist who falls victim to his own genius especially when you care about the character as much as you do Seth.

There were three things in this movie that could have made it an all time classic of the transformative, mutant category: 1. I would have liked to see a small bit involving the monkey that successfully made it through the teleportation process perhaps having some slowly emerging fault with his body. This is not absolutely necessary, but it would have added to the foreboding of Seth's own transportation. 2. Victoria's ex-boyfriend needed a serious rewriting. I'm not sure that his character was altogether necessary, but if the writer felt he was, then he should have taken more time to create someone who wasn't simply schmuck 101. Victoria seems to confide in him more than she should so it does not make sense to me that he does not show even a little bit of compassion. When a movie only has three major roles that make up almost the entirety of the dialogue, one poorly written one sticks out like a sore thumb. 3. The ending. It is a sad and disgusting ending fitting to the rest of the tale, but it felt as though the director was hesitant to end it in a way that would take the leap that it should have. Seth, in his final moments of having any Homo sapien qualities left, lays out a plan which I will not spoil, but utterly chilled me to the bone. It was a macabre, grotesque, abominable plan that went beyond right and wrong to something that was entirely evil and driven by desperation. It would have made for the most climactic and terrible ending that one could imagine for an already twisted tale, and I hoped it would happen. A safer route was taken. It was still ironic and metaphorical in its own way and it actually made me grin, but I felt a little cheated.

There is a fourth thing, but it is a little petty and I won't put it down. If you want to know, simply ask and we can discuss it.

My changes are long and might have worked better, but that does by no means negate my statement that I liked this movie and that it is a worthwhile watch. Any horror addicts should certainly get a few shivers from this one.

3/4

Russian Ark (2002)

The victim of a car crash opens his eyes in a dreamlike state to find that he is in 1880's Russia. In a labyrinth of a building the man walks room to room eavesdropping and observing a series of small sequences involving some of the premier characters of Russian history. They are neither important nor seen from beginning to end, but they establish time, place, and the type of story that is about to unfold. The unnamed man meets the Marquis, a man in black with heeled boots--more spirit than man, really--about as lost and confused as our host. A Frenchman by birth and a hater of Russians, the Marquis is surprised to learn that in this new world he speaks perfect Russian and pairs up with The Spy (as the credits refer to him) to explore the fantasy they have been thrust into.

The location turns out to be the State Hermitage Museum and the Marquis, an art historian who despite his utter dislike for things of Russian heritage knows a considerable amount about the paintings, sculptures, and historical figures the two meet along the way, becomes something of a guide for The Spy and for the audience itself. As we travel room by room, corridor by corridor, gallery by gallery, the vampirish historian gives facts and interpretations of the paintings, the museum, and of Russia herself. It is not a documentary, nor is it completely fictionalized. Its conceptualization is something new entirely and really beyond my description.

The logic of the film does not completely work, even by the fantastic standards that its creators have set forth. Both The Spy and the Marquis play the part of the observer, at once being invisible but able to interact, unnoticed at times and chased away at others. They can interfere when they want to, come face to face with others without being seen, and travel through eras without intending to. At one point they are in a room observing art in modern day St. Petersburg with tourists, then stumbling out into a hallway they  find themselves looking at Catherine II running about in the snow.

There really is not much plot. Dialogue neither propels the story (what little there is) nor does it create characters of any sort of depth or interest. After the first ten or so minutes, the characters don't even really seem to care that they have been transported in time and have no ideas on how to get back to their own reality. The two merely exist in order to complete the vision of the director. The walk through the building where the witness the trivial events of people like Peter the Great and Anastasia, and discuss a great deal of art in ways that are both very interesting and extremely tedious.

All of this might make for a strange and disjointed film were it not for what I am about to relay now: the entire film, an hour and a half long, over 2000 actors, 33 rooms of the Winter Palace, and three live orchestras was shot in one take. Holy God. The true technical achievement of this film is staggering. The Spy is never seen as the movie is shot from his point of view with a Steadicam, and goes for an uninterrupted 87 minute take. Actors look into the camera as though they were speaking to a real person and move around as though there was a character there. Every mark had to be hit by every one of those extras--lighting cues, sound cues, everything had to be perfect. It is like watching live theater in that there was no room for error in filming, there was no way to edit out mistakes, and if someone did slip up then the entire thing had to be reshot from the very beginning. I have learned that it was indeed shot twice before they successfully completed it the third try. The months of preparation that must have gone into this are awe-inspiring. Unlike live performance greater challenges are presented not only in the making sure that everyone hits their marks at the correct place and time, but the fact that there is only one director and 33 locations with some places holding hundreds of actors, others only one or two--some in completely unexpected areas--makes the organization of the film something of a miracle. Furthermore, in the direction process, not only did the director have to make sure that the cinematographer have to hit all of his marks as The Spy, he also had to make sure that all action that he wanted to film was in the correct place at the correct time, and could be filmed smoothly and naturally as though a person just happened to look at that particular place. There is only one camera so there was no possibility for reaction shots. Everything had to be seen all at once, and that is a feat that brings this movie nearly to level of masterpiece.

The film itself would have been really bad had it not been for this incredible concept and complete disregard for the conventions of film making. There was really no plot or useful dialogue to speak of, but even after the initial shock of the film wore off, I was still mesmerized by what I was witnessing. There is really nothing else like it made, and anything that tries to do this again will be an obvious send-up of it, and I am sure will be almost automatically panned as a worthless copy. This is truly a one-of-a-kind film, will remain so, and absolutely should not be missed by anyone who has any interest in unconventional, avant garde cinema.

4/4

Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959)

Very early on I set down my pen and simply had to accept that there were too many errors with this movie for me to transcribe. Ed Wood's classic B-horror film and two time winner of the Golden Turkey for the Worst Film of All Time sets the standard for low-budget, campy film making, but it is a cult favorite and I must say that in spite of its faults--or rather because of them--I have fallen in love with this great big golden turkey.

After eight attempts to intervene with the goings on of humans, a team of aliens descend to Earth to carry out Plan 9, a dastardly scheme to destroy the race of men by bringing the dead back to life to kill the living! Their motive? Humans apparently are on the brink of discovering a new bomb that will literally explode sunlight. Solaranite, discovered centuries ago by other alien races, is thought to be unfit in the hands of the human race because, as the aliens make very clearly, we are violent idiots who would blow up the universe. Apparently one detonation of Solaranite would cause a chain reaction that would eventually destroy every planet in the universe. How the aliens managed to discover this science without destroying the universe themselves is a question left unanswered, but I'm not sure that those in the movie thought of that.

Anyway, they bring the dead back to life in order to kill the living. Two are a married couple played by buxom Vampira, and Bella Lugosi (in his last film role, but still sporting his Dracula cape which was awesome). Later a police inspector (ex-wrestler Tor Johnson ) joins the undead duo, and the three reek havoc on a group of about half a dozen people in California. Why only three were raised from the dead and how these three were to destroy the entire human race with their lumbering walk and inability to use weapons is just another small point raised but not answered.

In the end it comes down to a hand-to-hand combat fight between two aliens aboard the only spacecraft sent to destroy humanity, and a police detective, an commercial aircraft pilot, and an army general, as earthly weapons seem to have little effect on the flying saucers or on the zombies (called "ghouls"). One final question that I want to raise (I have so many, but this one really stuck out simply because such a big deal was out of it) is that about midway through the movie two army generals are discussing the imminent alien encounter. The government has apparently been hiding the existence of aliens from the public for a number of years--they have, in fact, made contact with the aliens via radio. One of the generals explains to the other that when they got the transmission it came through as a bunch of garbled sounds, but with a new technology called a "language computer" they were able to translate any language into their own. That established, during the final confrontation between human and alien aboard the ship the aliens have a very long discussion, in very clear English, about the space race's intentions. Did nobody in the cast notice this? Nobody? My goodness.

Now that I have effectively given away the entirety of the plot I recommend that you go out and watch this movie. It is obvious that it inspired many film makers in later years, and for good reason. This movie is so unintentionally funny it is probably impossible not to like it. It breaks practically every bullet in the movie-making rule book, but it is the utter lack of talent from every single aspect of the whole--from the writing to the acting to the unbelievable editing--that makes this movie so incredibly endearing.

I have a feeling that I might not have been so forgiving to this film had I not previously seen the movie Ed Wood, Tim Burton's best film and my all time favorite Johnny Depp picture, which tells the story of the legendarily bad director's time in Hollywood. Burton obviously had a very soft spot in his heart for Wood's movies as even though he makes fun of the ridiculous and hilariously deluded way in which he made pictures, but does it affectionately and you makes you love the spirited, cross-dressing Ed Wood as much as Burton does. Where this is relevant is that Burton and his actors recreate some of the most memorable scenes in his "best" films and show the process that Wood went through in making them. As God-awful as they are to the most amateur of movie-watchers (and believe you me a five year old could spot the blemishes) Wood went on creating his films as if he were making high art. There are absolutely side-splitting scenes in Ed Wood where he films scenes that any other director would have immediately discarded because a prop fell down or the lighting is inconsistent, but Wood kept them because in his head it made sense that keeping the take fit with his conceptualization of realism. Knowing that he took his film making dead seriously and made movies that were not self-aware in the slightest bit makes them that much more enjoyable simply because you can laugh at them and know that director would not be laughing with you.

I give this movie a 0/4 because it truly is the worst film I think that I have ever seen, but I want to give it 4/4 because I freaking love it.

Viridiana (1961)

Winner of the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, but also banned in Spain and renounced by the Vatican, Viridiana is both a gothic love story seemingly spun from the mind of Edgar Allen Poe, and a bleak look at the human heart and how deprivation can turn even the most well intentioned acts into results of shame and cruelty.

Viridiana is but days away from taking her final vows to become a sister in a convent. The Mother Superior informs her that her uncle whom she has met but once, but who has paid for her education and to whom she is deeply indebted to, is dying and she is ordered to visit him before she marries herself to God. Her uncle, Don Jaime, lives in a lonely old manner with two servants and a their child. They all seem genial enough, but slowly Viridiana begins to see the underlying motivations of Don Jaime as he tries to extend her visit. Hung above a fireplace is the portrait of his late wife who bears a striking resemblance to his niece. Grief at her death brought him to the life of a recluse, shut up in his grand home with nothing more to do than tend to the cows, play his organ, and listen to his record of Handel's "Messiah." But when the nun enters his home she brings a new vitality to the rotting corpse of his mansion, and the memory of his wife drives him towards Viridiana with a lustful passion that is horrific and macabre, but also pitiable.

Events transpire, which I will not reveal, that bring Viridiana to question her faith, turn from the convent, and seek God in her own way. The second half of the film follows her as she decides to bring a group of paupers in to the mansion to feed and house and generally tend to, in exchange for menial labor in accordance to whatever their handicaps may be. At the same time Don Jaime's son, Jorge, comes to tend to the vast expanse of land that has gone neglected for a great deal of time. Flickers of passion soon arise--like father, like son. Sins of the flesh run deep in this family, and they seem to have a way of stretching out their fingers and ensnaring others around them.

Viridiana does her best to care for everyone in the house. She cannot lie, is "rotten with piety," and shows unending warmth and compassion to those that even the destitute would spit on. But for all of her love that she spreads, it all goes for naught. Carnal desires and the black spot in the hearts of men lead to a heartbreaking and infuriating climax at a dinner party that slaps God and all that he teaches in the face. The end is ambiguous--both hopeful, but strangely unsettling in its sexual energy.

It does not surprise me that both the nation of Spain and the Vatican denounced this film. Master Spanish filmmaker Luis Bunuel spent his early life getting a strict Jesuit education which accounts for both the religious themes and imagery in his films as well as the morally depraved approach he takes when examining his material. This film is a venomous look at the results of leading a pious life and raises very troubling questions surrounding the topic of free will versus divine intervention. A person leading a devout life could immediately be offended and deeply troubled by seeing such a film as it makes very little effort to disguise its disdain for such a lifestyle. 

That said, although it does not agree with Viridiana's choices or path in life, Bunuel does still seem to have a very deep respect for the power that religion has over its followers, and he does seem to have an appreciation for the poetic nature of religious observances. This movie is both upsetting and oddly beautiful in its dark--and at times even morbid--artistry. It affected me very deeply, and I feel that it is a film that once watched will not soon be forgotten.

I realize now that I have not discussed any of the other components to the film--acting, writing, editing, and so forth. It does not matter, they are irrelevant. This is the type of film where everything else after the director's vision need only be competent enough to carry the vision, simply because the prowess of the director is so great. Bunuel's story is so intriguing, and is outlook so bleak and strong, that it completely overshadows the work that the actors do with the material. The writing, though also by Bunuel, is not particularly impressive, but that is also upon further reflection. In many respects I suppose Bunuel is a lot like Stanley Kubrick in that when all of the components come together and a final product is reached it is never Tom Cruise's or Jack Nicholson's or Kirk Douglas' movie. It is Kubrick's, and Kubrick is the first name that you talk of afterwards. Bunuel will be the only person that I remember from Viridiana which I think is a mighty fine complement.

4/4

 

Chinatown (1974)

I was inspired to rewatch this after viewing Rango the other day. The last time I had seen it I was 16 and going through my Faye Dunaway phase. It is amazing what a few years worth of intensive film watching will reveal when seeing a great movie. I knew then that I was watching something special, but I had no idea how special until last night. This is probably one of the best films of the 70's after The Godfather and Taxi Driver, with its incredible script, strong direction, and superb performances from Jack Nicholson, Faye Dunaway, and John Huston.

The plot is rich and complex, and never reveals any more than it has to, and sometimes not even that much. It opens up layer by layer exposing a dirty world of greed and corrupt politics in a very old Los Angeles. Nicholson plays J.J.Gittes, a Private I., specializing in tracking down cheating spouses. In the middle of a terrible drought a Mrs. Evelyn Mulwray hires Gittes to follow her husband. He does, and finds some expected results. The repercussions, however, are very unexpected when a beautiful but mysterious woman contacts Gittes revealing herself as the real Evelyn Mulwray; Gittes had been hired by an impostor. To what end?

While he was tracking Hollis Mulwray, the chief engineer for Water & Power in Los Angeles, Gittes unearths some interesting information about where the water is going. Mr. Mulwray refused to build a dam over some soft ground much to the dismay of some corporate hot-shots, and when Mr. Mulwray ends up drowned it leads Gittes down a dark and dangerous path to find out where the water goes, the importance of the dam, what Hollis died for, who killed him, and what was the secret behind the china-faced femme fatale.

This covers only the bare surface of the goings on in this film. To write it all I would basically need to rewrite the script, because this movie leaves you guessing with only pieces of the puzzle right until the very end. Like most film noir Chinatown has sexually impulsive characters, mysterious death, and a central figure who is really the only person that the audience can trust. Where it differs, though, is by have multi-dimensional, very complex characters, a well thought out and entirely unformulaic plot, and inspired direction from Roman Polanski. This takes it time, it is methodical but never boring, leaves your head scratching for all of the right reasons, and has moments that will make your jaw hit the floor.

This is one of the smartest and most cynical films to fall into the "Noir" category. It excels by rising above the normal murder mystery sub-genre by really focusing in on the dirtier aspects of human nature. John Huston plays Evelyn Mulwray's fat, expensive, dangerous father who hits it right on the button when he says, "I don't blame myself. You see, Mr. Gittes, most people have never had to face the fact that at the right time and the right place, they are capable of anything." The people in this film will go to just about any lengths to push their skeletons into the farthest depths of their closet, and it takes all of the cunning and expertise of J.J.Gittes to bring those deeds to light.

Jack Nicholson gives one of his best performances in this film simply because he is not playing Jack Nicholson. Everything that he does is Gittes, and it is so nice to watch him when he loses himself in a role. He kind of reminds me of Robin Williams in that I don't necessarily dislike him when he is hamming it up for the camera, but when he finds the right subtleties for a character he becomes a joy to watch. Faye Dunaway reminded me why I had such a thing for her when I was younger. She was so beautiful, and she could act really, really well. After Bonnie and Clyde this is my favorite work of hers. She borders lunacy while keeping it tactful, and that is a very tough challenge which she handled deftly.

This is absolutely one of my favorite films with an amazing collection of fantastic people in showbiz. Highly recommended to anyone with mature tastes and a love for a complex narrative.

4/4

Destry Rides Again (1939)

Thomas Jefferson Destry is the son of the famous late sheriff, who is blindly recruited by the town of Bottleneck's new sheriff (converted town drunk) to become deputy, in attempt to bring some law and order to the trigger-happy congregation. But when he arrives he is not at all what the sheriff expected. Most unlike his father, this Destry steps out of his carriage holding a canary, a parasol, and touting no gun. He drinks milk,whittles napkin rings, and is fond of telling educational stories.

When he arrives he is treated as laughing stock, no more so than by the town's bar girl, the wily, foul-mouthed, beer sluggin' Frenchy (Marlene Dietrich). She isn't pleased when the scrawny, anti-violence new guy steps in trying to take over a town that she is accustomed to eating out of the palm of her hand. Destry makes another enemy in Kent, Frenchy's card cheating buddy who sees Destry's mild manner and respect for the law as an easy way to get what he wants.

The conflict is not especially interesting. It involves a crooked card game gone awry, giving some unpleasant men the property rights to a family's ranch. Destry must use all of his cunning to establish order in the town without resorting to violence which seems to be an impossible task, but his delicate frame and quiet voice hide cunning and some special tricks that prove a formidable adversary to the social deviants of Bottleneck.

Destry Rides Again is supposed to be one of the great comedy westerns--in fact it really established what a comedy western was. I made the mistake of going into this film thinking it was going to be something along the lines of Blazing Saddles. Sure, Airplane had not yet been made, but Duck Soup had been, and I assumed that that sort of mad-cap style would be infused in such a highly regarded comedy. I was wrong. It was not very funny at all. Marlene Dietrich and James Stewart as Destry are in top form, making comedy when not much is really there to be found, but it really just is not a laugh-out-loud kind of movie--it isn't even the kind of movie that you think to yourself, "that was funny." It's not a terrible movie. If fact, it is actually pretty good as a drama. I was compelled by the characters, particularly Frenchy, even if I wasn't holding my sides with laughter. I can see where a film like would inspire something like Blazing Saddles, but I'm not so sure that it should be placed so high on its pedestal.

One thing that I find odd not only about this movie, but the westerns in general with Dietrich in them, is that Dietrich is in them. She is a beautiful woman (if kind of scary), but is always cast as the saloon singer even though she has the voice of a steam engine, can't say her R's, and has an incredibly thick German accent. How she made it into one western, let alone be type casted in that role, is baffling to me. I do like watching her though. She has charm, and stage presence. Sieg Heil.

I guess one thing that I did find amusing is how relevant this film still is today if you think about it correctly. A shrimpy man comes into town without a pistol--an obviously phallic object--and is ridiculed about not sporting it around. But watch when he takes a revolver from a guy outside of the saloon and shoot the pegs off of the wooden sign without missing a shot. He's got a quiet confidence because he knows he is packing heat. Try substituting a Hummer or a Harley in for that pistol and Destry Rides Again makes perfect sense in today's world. It's a film about feeling incompetent and making up for it by buying the largest cylindrical rod you can lay your small hands on. Ha.

2.5/4

Rango (2011)

Rango is one of my favorite films of the year, and one of the most visually stunning animated films that I have ever seen--and I have seen a lot of them. It is not a kids movie, it is a family movie that is whip-smart when it wants to be, with plenty of homages, and some very deep ideas. Although it is dragged down sometimes with cheap gimmicks geared towards gaining a few chuckles from everyone in the audience, when it is not hampered with trying to be commercial friendly it is clever, funny, and at times even poignant.

After falling out of a moving car in the middle of the desert, a family's pet chameleon finds himself lost in more ways than one. A cryptic armadillo gives him the tools to fight for his survival: "To find water, you must first find Dirt," and with a little luck he comes to a dying town with una problema con agua. This little chameleon is a master actor who, with his ample amounts of spare time, creates plays with half a Barbie, a wind-up goldfish, a plastic tree, and a dead beetle. When he walks into the saloon of the town stuck in the Old West, he protects his fragile self by creating the character "Rango," the roughest, toughest cowboy in the desert. Although most unlike himself (he has an alias, a pen name, an avatar, a maiden name, but we never learn his actual one. Does he even have one? Has it ever occurred to him?), Rango is sure of himself, and with his lightning fast improv skills earns the respect and admiration of the town.

After proving himself in a very lucky battle with an unfortunate hawk, he meets the mayor of the town, a very old turtle with odd friends and deep connections. There he made sheriff of the town, and informed of just how bad the water shortage is. According to the banker there is only five days of water left for the entire town of Dirt, and it is up to Rango, and the hope that his lie has given to the townfolk, to save their poor community from certain destruction. Basically it becomes the animated version of Chinatown with a lizard whose imagination is too large and too fast for him to keep up with.

He makes friends and enemies voiced by an all-star cast. Johnny Depp voices Rango, and there is also work from Alfred Molina, Abigail Breslin, Ned Beatty, Isla Fisher, Stephen Root, Timothy Olyphant, and Bill Nighy  as Rattlesnake Jake, the coolest and scariest villain since Col. Hans Landa in Inglorious Basterds. There are fights with bank robbers, gunslingers, and just about every cliche that falls into the Spaghetti Western genre. It rocks!

Gore Verbinski directs with flair and vision. Watching this film it is easily recognizable that it was the work of the same person who directed the Pirates of the Caribbean films. The action sequences, the voice work, and the more imaginative scenes had the same sort of quality as his earlier films which I really enjoy watching. The CGI is stunning; the colors practically jump off of the screen and, unlike some of the more geometric work that trademarks Pixar films, this one focused much more on the realistic features of desert creatures. Rango's eyes looked like chameleon eyes, and that is something that really impressed me. As I said, this film is full of wink-nudges to great films like Chinatown, Star Wars, and there is an amazing dreamlike sequence involving a golf cart filled with Oscars driven by The Man With No Name, which is especially fitting for a film about a character who has no idea who he is or what he wants.

Rango lies and pretends, but in the end he is lonely guy without a purpose. We forgive his transgressions, though, because he first wanted to protect himself, but later discovered that "Rango" was more for the townsfolk than for himself. He looked with pity at a town literally fighting for its survival, a town that worshiped the water spigot, a town that readily believed his lies because they had no other hope, and he chose to fight to end their bondage to blue gold. We forgive him because we want his lies to work. This is a film about tall tales, legends, speculations, hallucinations and dreams, both filled and unfulfilled. It is spiritual without being overtly so, funny because it is written by funny people, and wonderful to watch because it looks like a labor of love.

4/4

The Kid (1921)

A little Chaplin for you...

Charlie Chaplin I think is known for his stunt work and the sight gags that he created with his adorable Little Tramp character. I think that it might be impossible to dislike a character you wears size 16 shoes, a bowler hat, a Hitlerstache, and sports ridiculously bad teeth. Add that to his amazing physical prowess and perfect timing, and you achieve comedic gold. But many overlook what a poignant and sentimental writer he could be, and I think movies like City Lights and The Kid are some of his best work because after the laughter dies down one truly finds that they hope for the best for The Tramp and his friends, and to get a raw human reaction from the audience is a triumph that not many directors can boast.

This film, along with most of his other well known pieces, was made late in his career, and like fine wine he got better with age. This delightful little story observes The Tramp as he happens upon a baby that was born to a poor mother and left in an alley, tears in her eyes. After fruitlessly trying to discard of the baby by various means The Tramp finds himself drawn to the innocent baby, and decides to raise him as his son. Fast forward five years...

In a little ramshackle apartment The Tramp has raised The Kid (played by vaudevillian six year old, Jackie Coogan) in his image, fashioning a proper con artist out him. The connection between the two is so sweet and feels so real that I felt as though The Tramp really had reared a child, because that is exactly what I pictured what would have happened had he experienced fatherhood. His character makes mistakes of course, but the love was real and, even though he wasn't The Kid's biological father, he was his dad. For a lot of the film we watch them in their day to day lives making money replacing windows, dodging cops, fighting off bullies (both large and small), and generally just doing father-son stuff. Through most of it we don't laugh, but we smile. Most of the gags are not particularly funny, but they are amusing and the relationship between the two characters is so inherently silly that one can't help but grin at their antics.

A shadow falls on their happy life, though, when a doctor discovers that The Kid is not really the fruit of The Tramp's loins, and he calls on the evil Orphan Asylum to take away the child. To make matters worse, the mother of the boy, now a big name actress, learns the whereabouts of her son and decides to get him back. The trials are great, but is love stronger? I will leave you to find out for yourself!

There was a movie that came out about twenty years ago called Chaplin, starring Robert Downey Jr. as the title role. It is not the best movie, but he gives a terrific performance as the British film star, and showed the process with which Charles Chaplin became The Tramp. Everything that he did seemed so effortless and so off the cuff that it was really quite astonishing. As I watched The Kid there was a moment early on when The Tramp sticks the baby in a random carriage with another child. The mother protests, and the bewildered Tramp picks up the wrong baby by accident but quickly corrects his mistake. It is a hilarious moment and made me think of Chaplin; I wondered if he had improvised that bit or if it had been staged like the rest of the scene. I really truly hope for the former, because the Downey Jr. film set my expectations very high for Chaplin, and my romantic ideas of his films is that he fulfilled those hopes. Every generation has its genius, and more so than Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd the silent film era's was Charles Chaplin. Bravo.

3.5/4

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Pt 2 (2011)

HP pt 2 is about a thrilling and satisfying conclusion to a seven part series as one could hope for, but it definitely has the feeling of a "Part 2," even more so that the "Part 1." That is not a criticism on the part of the director, if anything it is a criticism of all of the Negative Nancy's out there who said that they didn't like it because there was so little set up for its full-throttle, continuous action. These people really have missed the mark on this film; one cannot simply look at this movie as a self contained entity, because it most certainly is not. HP pt 1 was slow, somber, and quietly powerful as it set the stage for what the second part of the film would be like. This is not like Lord of the Rings or something along those lines where there is a certain beginning, middle, and end to each of the films, with a larger connecting story. It is a sister film that is meant to be watched together. The only reasons it was split was to keep the integrity of the story (if you are optimist), and the monetary goals (if you are a realist). In watching the final installment one must seriously keep in mind the first part of the story, because all that this film is is the third act of a four and a half hour long monolith. Keep that in mind or you might find it tedious.

Director David Yates really has done an amazing job taking the longest (and, in my not so humble opinion, the worst) books of J.K.Rowling's series, and created the most poetic, and fiercely beautiful of the films. The special effects in the this movie more than any of the others are so seamlessly incorporated into the story that I sometimes forgot that it was a movie, and that is all that I can hope for when I go to the movies. I want to be transported into another world that I can get lost in, and Rowling and Yates created something to be treasured.

The plot would be pointless to outline--if you are going to see then you should have watched the first seven films. Something about horcruxes and a completely irrelevant and annoying subplot about the Deathly Hallows which make one the conqueror of death, blah, blah, blah. If it needs to be explained then you are definitely in the wrong theater. I new that there were several kids in the wrong theater with avid Potter-crazed parents, because I had the privilege to listen to mom and dad explain the entire movie to them as we watched, but whatever. The bottom line is that it is the final showdown between Harry and Voldemort, and all stops are pulled out in a visually dazzling and emotionally taxing, two hour long battle sequence.

Daniel Radcliffe gives his best work this time. He and his two companions have really blossomed into wonderful young actors, but Emma Watson and Rupert Grint got much less screen time than in the past. Really this was not their film, it was all of the English acting world's. Seriously I think the only British actors not in this movie were Dame Judy Dench, and Sir Ian McKellen. With supporting characters played by Ralph Fiennes, Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, Michael Gambon, Helena Bonham Carter (hilarious), Emma Thompson, and half a dozen others, how could it be possible to be star of the movie? The younglings didn't have a chance.

As an action movie goes this one is very special. After ten years Harry Potter's fan base is enormous and it has become so attached to the characters and to Hogwarts itself that it is extremely upsetting (for me at least) to see the characters and the castle under attack. When you are so emotionally invested in the outcome of the fight--even if you know the ending--everything becomes that much more interesting and breath-taking. In previous Yates films the magic used was mostly small and incorporated almost unnoticeably with a grande finale done meticulously. This, by contrast, was large and spectacular thumping fight that was very alarming and quite moving. A great soundtrack and fantastic CGI propel its audience through blood and carnage right up to its disarmingly quite end. If you are looking for a thrill-ride then this is one-stop shopping.

Academy voters should be on their toes for this one. Along with technical awards which I am sure it will win, I am guessing that it will get a Best Picture nod, Best Supporting Actor for Alan Rickman--who had such a short amount of time on screen, but gave it so much, it was incredible--possibly another Supporting Actor nod for Ralph Fiennes, and maybe even Best Director for Yates. This is not a movie to be missed. It is morally challenging, delivers some strong messages, is a technical wonder, and all around a great entertainment. I am sad to see Harry Potter go, but there was not much that could have been done better.

4/4