I actually kinda like and really like the two movies I mentioned in my title, but coming up with titles is taxing, you know? Especially when the movies have nothing I can really allude to (nothing interesting anyway). It was actually a pretty good year, but nothing out of the ordinary. No over-the-top excellent films and no crap ones either. Unfortunate as this will be the last of the 90s blogs, and the adventure that awaits us next is daunting...because the 80s had some crap if the music and the hairstyles are any indication.
But before we deal with that we'll discuss the year in question, beginning with Awakenings. I had never actually heard of this movie until it showed up on the list, which is unfortunate because it's quite a well-done little movie. It tells the true story (or mostly true I suppose, there's always embellishment) of a group of borderline-catatonic people and their awakenings from that state of being via a new drug. And by "new" I mean: new in 1969. I'm not sure what the correct term is for the disease that the people in the movie have...they're not really catatonic but they certainly can't move and communicate much either. Suffice it to say they're in positions that I wouldn't wish on anybody (not even Michael Bay. Maybe James Cameron). Although that's the crux of the story and although Robert DeNiro was the one nominated for Best Actor that year for playing the main "awakened one" (if you will) I think that the movie is really about the doctor (played by Robin Williams). He's a bit of a misanthrope and so he likes working with patients that aren't going to give him a bunch of crap all the time (if you're thinking I could relate, you are quite correct). And even though one of his nurses is quite obviously interested in him, he's too awkward about it to care. I can only relate to the awkward aspect of that piece of the story...but anyway, by means of a sidenote the nurse is played by Julie Kavner. If you don't know who that is, it's because you haven't seen all 450+ episodes of The Simpsons like I have. And after all that it's tough to listen to her because Marge is all I can think about when I hear the voice. I faced a similar dilemma in 1997 for those who remember. And since Julie is the other cast member who does like 3 voices instead of about 37, she sounds exactly the same. Aaaaaaaaand we're bringing it back to the movie: okay so at first it's pretty uplifting because when all the people wake up they are able to live the lives they'd been denied for so long. But then the side effects of the drug start to present themselves, and this coupled with the shock of being awakened some 30 years after you went to sleep caused many of the patients to unravel (including DeNiro). And so they are forced to go back to somewhere inbetween where they had started and where they were with the drug. It was all very sad, but moving. There is redemption though: because DeNiro gets on Williams' case about not living his life even though he's been blessed with one and that he's "the one who's really asleep." And thus, good ole' Patch Adams decides to finally go out with Marge Simpson (there's an image). Predictable, but sweet. I liked it, it made me feel nice on a boring summer day.
One of the strangest choices for a nominee that I've come across is Ghost. The movie is actually pretty good, even though it reeks of the eighties. But Best Picture nominee? That's a bit silly, actually really silly. But first let's hit some of the highlights. Patrick Swayze was a great choice for the movie, for much the same reason that (stick with me on this one) Matt Damon was the perfect choice for the Bourne movies. Because you don't expect Matt Damon to beat the crap out of a bunch of people, and then he does. Well, you don't expect Patrick Swayze to start taking advantage of his new abilities as a ghost to help save Demi Moore, which is good because if he had been played by Bruce Willis or someone then you'd keep waiting for him to shoot some guy and make a joke. Patrick is the everyman, and so when he's trying to stop Demi from suffering the same fate that he did, you really feel for the guy. His hair is longer than hers in this movie though...which is really weird. Especially since she can't really act and her only positive attribute is that she's hot (but not with short hair, she's no Natalie Portman). Some of the effects in the movie are pretty cheesy but they are thankfully kept to a minimum. What isn't kept to a minimum is the presence of Whoopi Goldberg. I had very mixed feelings about this. On one hand, I really enjoyed the scenes she was in and the dynamic she had with Swayze (she was the only one who could hear him after he was dead). But I also felt that really took away from the main crux of the movie, which was the love story aspect. But on the other other hand, Demi Moore is stupid, so who knows? And why did Whoopi get an Oscar for playing an eccentric black woman? Doesn't sound too taxing to me...and can I also mention that I found the scene where they're making the clay jar pretty not effective? I think it's partially because I always thought he was dead in that scene and that he was reconnecting with her via "Unchained Melody." So I always thought that was pretty cool. Well, he's actually alive and she's bored and messing with clay so he's like, "hey let's make movie magic for some reason!" I thought the more effective scene was the one right after that where they have like a tone poem sex scene...if that makes any sense. Maybe it's just me, because according to my mother, my lack of response to that scene makes me a heartless robot (slight hyperbole). All of that aside, fun movie. But nominee? Please.
Next up on the list is quite an interesting one to discuss: The Godfather Part III. The reason I say it's interesting is because even Tony Soprano talks about what a big disappointment it was. And I actually think that's a bit harsh. The first two movies are, without a doubt, two of the greatest movies of all time (in fact, the first one might just be the greatest). The third one is by no means a bad movie, it's a really good movie. The standard was just set way too high. Also, I think it's important to note that a bit too much time passed between when Coppola made the films. The first two came out in the 70s with two years in between and this one came out 16 years later. By that time, I believe the original composer had died, the filmmaking styles of Coppola (and films in general) had changed, and people like Robert Duvall had grown into their own careers and thus had to be written out. These all contribute to the movie being a bit too different from the originals to feel like home. But there are some welcome new additions with Andy Garcia and Joe Mantegna. There's also one very NOT welcome addition of Sofia Coppola. I used to say, "I'm sure she's a great writer/director but she's a terrible actress." But now that I've seen some of the movies she's made, I can honestly say she should pursue a career elsewhere. I realize she's the director's daughter and everything and he'd be a complete jerk for not casting her if she wanted to jumpstart her career. But up next to Pacino and Garcia, she just brings down every scene she's in. That being said, the rest of the film is definitely worth a watch, even if it's not as good as the first two. Michael Corleone has gotten soft in his old age, but this also gives us a chance to delve more into his psyche than we ever could before. And then you've got the immortal line, "just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in." No matter how many times I see it spoofed, it's still a great line. The conclusion to the film and its ending, are excellent. No two ways about it. Whatever you want to say about the rest of the movie, the end of the film brings the trilogy to an appropriate and tragic end.
Next up is a film I'm actually somewhat underwhelmed by: Goodfellas. First, by means of a side note: the beginning of this paragraph was written several days ago and through the magic of the internet it seems as though no time has passed. Now I'm knee-deep in a 1988 period piece that once again demands I blog during it. But anyway, back to 1990: this film is much more of a precursor to The Sopranos than any of the Godfather films. My Creative Writing teacher in high school once described the latter as "moving artwork" and I can't think of a better way to put it. But the former is a hauntingly-real masterpiece with a complete lack of what I'd call "classical filmmaking." In other words, the world of The Godfather is beautiful. It looks beautiful, the music is beautiful and haunting, and the lifestyle is that of the golden age of the mob. Both Goodfellas and The Sopranos are all about the mob after the golden age. The mob in its decline. And there's something sad about that. This film, which I will finally talk about after all that blather, is usually looked at as Scorsese's best work. I'd disagree, though I'm still a big fan. The film uses only source music, with no original score. This isn't unusual for Marty, but there's usually some semblance of a score present. Instead, this movie chooses to go more the route of juxtaposition. Many times, you laugh while feeling guilty for laughing because something horrific is happening. I feel like I've mentioned this before on the blog, but I can't remember when or if it was actually for a paper for college, or both. Because I've lost my mind. Either way, this film is all about showing the mob lifestyle for what it is: destructive. Ray Liotta plays the main character, but he also largely functions as the voice of the audience. In the beginning he famously states, "as far back as I can remember I always wanted to be a wise guy." Throughout the movie he finds out what that entails, and how it's not as glamorous as he thought. The movie ends on a nice bookend to the first line, "I'm an average nobody...get to live the rest of my life like a schnook." I'm not sure what that word means, but I like it. Because he got off easy by being in witness protection, as the film shows that the "glorious" end for a mobster is prison or death. Umm...yeah. And see that exact thing is present in The Godfather but it seems more dignified! This one shows the complete lack of dignity and decency, a more realistic portrayal of the mob. On the other hand, it does place the movie in the category of: "it's good because of what it isn't" which is something that usually annoys me. I'll forgive it though, because it's Marty and because he does a great job directing it. And I think Joe Pesci's Oscar-winning performance is good, but a little Joe goes a long way. And after a while he becomes a bit annoying. DeNiro is great as always, playing a more ruthless character than he usually does. Or I should say, a less-classy ruthless guy than he usually does. The reason I said the film underwhelms me is that it's put up pretty high on a lot of top lists, so I was expecting much more a few years ago when I watched it. It's a really good movie, certainly deserving of the nomination and even would've deserved a win if it had been given one. But it's like #14 on IMDB or something (just checked, it's #16) which is a tad ridiculous.
But what's more ridiculous is this year's winner, a film I have VERY mixed feelings about: Dances With Wolves. I set aside an entire afternoon to watch all 4 hours of this movie's director's cut, and I mostly enjoyed it. But the completely anti-climactic ending kind or ruins the whole thing for me. That being said, let's focus on positive stuff first: a lot of the scenery is stunning. Truly stunning. The buffalo hunting scene alone is worth sitting through the film. It's been a long time since a movie actually took my breath away and in two days I watched this movie and Lawrence of Arabia, and they both managed to do just that. I also thought the portrayal of the Sioux Indian tribe was excellent. They weren't shown to be a bunch of tree-hugging hippies like some would have you believe, because that's not what they were. Newsflash: the white guys in the movies can still be jerks if you portray the Native Americans accurately. They were a ruthless people, much like all people everywhere in the world. But they lived in harsh environments, and were thus more harsh as a result. Many who know me know that I'm a big advocate of accurate descriptions, even if they would seemingly not change the overall perception of something. In other words, Tony Soprano is a rotten guy, no getting around it. But don't call him a sociopath, because he's not. That would be inaccurate. The Native Americans got screwed, no getting around it. But don't tell me they were a bunch of nature-loving vegetarians that wouldn't hurt another human being, because that's absurd. So I was really happy with their portrayal in the film: as an honorable people who aren't to be trifled with. BUT here's the problem: Kevin Costner. I don't think he's a bad actor, but I don't think he's very good either. And 4 hours of Kevin Costner is a fricking lot of Kevin Costner. The supporting performances blow him out of the water, although I don't think Mary McDonnell is too good either as the white woman who was raised by the Sioux. Although I think I find her performance more annoying than bad...but either way, I suppose the movie has more pros than cons. The music is also quite good, and Costner's character as a whole is well-developed even if his delivery isn't particularly great. But I really had a problem with the ending. Because the whole movie everyone is going, "the white people are coming to take our lands." That impending doom hangs over the whole movie. So I was just waiting for the big battle at the end wherein Kevin would fight his own people and it'd be all emotional and horses! arrows! spears! Sounds pretty cool right? Too bad it never happened. When the whities finally approach the camp, a caption comes up that says: "the Sioux held their ground for 11 years and then they finally lost it." Then the movie ends. THAT'S IT? THAT'S FRICKING IT? I sat here for four hours so you could tell me the most interesting part of the story in a few short sentences? I hope, for their sake, that they ran out of money and couldn't film one and not that they thought that was an appropriate ending to an epic film. All of that aside, I enjoyed the film more than I thought I would and I'm not sure I agree with the Academy's decision I'm also not going to get upset about it. By means of a coda, follow this for a second: Dances is Lawrence of Arabia (with Indians), Pocahontas is Dances (for kids), The Last Samurai should've been called Dances with Ninjas, and Avatar should've been called Dances With All of the Above.
Expression of love for juxtaposition: check. Surprise at enjoyment of little known film: check. Rip on James Cameron: check. I deem this blog entry a success. I should have another one coming soon, as I'm also done with 1989. I just haven't blogged much lately because my computer is on the other side of the room and we got a sweet new couch I try to live on. So for any obsessive fans out there (hot ones only) do a search on recently-bought comfortable couches and you might just find my top-secret location. And with that, we bid adieu to the 90s. Until then, next year will include more Kevin Costner, more Tom Cruise, and more Daniel-Day Lewis. I bet you thought I'd only be pleased at one of those. Oddly: false.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
1991: The Year that The Magic Bullet Should've Set Its Sights on Babs' Ego
So I only had to watch two movies for this year because I'd already seen a fair few. And you know what that means: it was a good year. There's that one wolf in the fold though, and it will be dealt with accordingly. But overall there's some pretty great stuff, including the film I like to refer to as "the greatest movie I've ever seen that I don't recommend to people." Because the film is a masterpiece, but it would also make a lot of people pretty uncomfortable. Don't worry, I'll leave those parts out (he wears another guy's face so he can escape, whoops!).
Well in my 1995 post we went from a G-rated movie for kids and ended with the Scottish war for independence, and we're going on a similar journey this time around as we begin with Beauty and the Beast. And let me make one thing abundantly clear right from the beginning: the fact that this is an animated film should in NO WAY detract from the film's quality and thus its eligibility as a nominee. The director of an animated film still has to set up shots and compose them in such a way as to convey the film's meaning. In fact, they work harder than live-action directors sometimes because they often do a lot of the concept art and artwork themselves. And the composing of music is the same process, in fact this film rightfully won a few Oscars for its sometimes breathtaking and other times flat-out fun and awesome music. The movie seriously makes me cry to this day, I think it's so beautifully put together and charming. It's easily one of the greatest Disney films ever made, if not the greatest. Belle is probably my favorite of the sometimes-infamous "Disney Princesses" because she's pretty but she's also smart (let's be honest, Cinderella was a bit of a flake, Sleeping Beauty was high maintenance, and Jasmine looks like a Kardashian so we all know what that implies). And much like some of my other favorites that I've mentioned on occasion, the movie could easily be cheesy with its "love heals all" message, but the delivery is perfect. I'd put it up against a live-action nominee any day, and it's way better than some of the crap I've had to endure lately.
It would've been nice if I could've segued right into the one I dislike for this year, but alas I cannot. Instead we've got an unfortunately-overlooked gangster film: Bugsy. I'm a big fan of the genre so I was surprised that I had neither seen nor heard of this film before. I'd heard of the man upon which it was based, Bugsy Siegel, but that was about it. Well, it's kind of an unfortunate genre in many ways because it contains what is probably the greatest film of all time and also the greatest television show (which of course began airing 8 years after this movie was released, but still). So you really have to do something different with it to get noticed, and I think this movie really achieves that. Because Bugsy wasn't actually IN the mob, he just utilized similar tactics and did business with them. This might not seem like a relevant discrepancy, but believe me it is. Because if you're in the mob and you make another mob family angry over money, no one wants a mob war and a sit-down is called (yes, I've seen the entire run of The Sopranos multiple times). But if you're not technically associated with anybody, then you could find yourself snoozing with the Pisces. The essential story is the classic Greek-type tragedy (or maybe not Greek...AP English class was a long time ago) wherein the hero has a fatal flaw. In this case, he had two: women and his temper. This is charming in the beginning of the film, and that's how it draws you in. You get to know Benny (as he preferred to be called) and you kind of like him in an odd sort of way. And he ends up with a hot movie-star played by Annette Bening. So the dude is pretty cool. And then he concocts an idea to found a resort/nightclub/casino called "The Flamingo." And you think to yourself: "that's a real place, he must succeed!" Well, he did...but it cost six times as much as he told the mob it would (and Annette was taking a few million off the top). Needless to say, poor Benny didn't last much longer. On the bright side, he was given an exceptionally well-done death scene (it'd be insulting to describe why it was good though). And then the film tells us the gazillions of dollars the casino ended up making. So now Bugsy is pretty much a Vegas god, figures. The highlight is easily Warren Beatty's stunning performance as the man himself, and in another year he might have netted himself an Oscar. Alas, no one had a shot against the winner.
Next up is a film I have some mixed feelings about, but is stylistically outstanding in parts: JFK. It's an Oliver Stone movie, and he can sometimes be a whiny douche (although he's Clint Eastwood as compared to that stunatz James Cameron. Stunatz being the Italian for "pinhead," another gem I picked up from Tony Soprano). But to Oliver Stone's credit, after the more controversial parts of the film were disproven, he came out and said that the conspiracy theory put forth in the film is basically crap. The theory being that the government had JFK killed because he wouldn't go along with invading Vietnam as much as they wanted. Umm...yeah, with an entire government worth of resources you'd think that they'd have been able to off the guy in a somewhat less blatant way. In case anyone's interested (unlikely) my theory is that since JFK had some friends in the mob who helped him get elected, and he then proceeded to become the first president to really crack down on the mob...that wasn't such a great idea. The film actually raises this theory and strikes it down because "when the mob kills you, they use a .22 in the back of your head." WELL, since it's infeasible for a mobster to kill in any other fashion I guess he's correct. All ranting aside, Kevin Costner is his traditional tolerable in this film (he's not bad but he's never particularly good either) but the supporting performances are what bring the film to life with some great work from Donald Sutherland, Gary Oldman, and Kevin Bacon, to name a few. Yet still the best part of the film is the beginning wherein Stone intercuts the infamous Zapruder film with footage that he himself shot. And you really cannot tell the difference, to the point that it's actually kind of frightening. I might be labeling myself as a moron in saying this, but did a dude actually put his umbrella in the air, as if to signal the hit, in real life? Because I honestly have no idea. Anyway, the rest of the film is a mix of courtroom drama and backdoor meetings. The theory itself is drivel, but it is quite an excellent movie from strictly a film perspective.
And NOW I can segue that junk, because a bad film from ANY perspective is: The Prince of Tides. Now, this could've been a pretty great movie. Because the underlying story is fascinating, and by underlying story, I mean the main plot in the book (I looked it up). See, the book focuses predominantly on flashbacks to the main character's childhood while he's in therapy. The movie focuses instead on the romance between the therapist and the main character. Which might not be too bad except the therapist is Barbra Streisand and I find her frightening (also: the main character is Nick Nolte and I find him frightening). But I guess the director was friends with Streisand...hang on, she directed it too. But I'm sure it wasn't her fault that the screenwriters chopped down the interesting part of the story and focused on her character instead, that's more of a producer's decision...wait a second, she produced it too. SO what we've got here is a story that should've been a well-acted and well-written character study and psychological drama that instead was Barbra Streisand saying to the world: "I can be a love interest! I'm still pretty! I can act!" The backstory focuses on the man's abusive childhood and the ultimate trauma of witnessing the rape of his sister and his mother. And then his older brother (a VERY interesting character from the flashbacks who I wanted to see more of, and he was a big part of the book that Mecha-Streisand decided to cut out) comes in and kills two of the rapists and his mother stabs the third. Then they clean up before the abusive dad gets home and go on with dinner as usual. That's pretty disturbing! But it takes a backseat to what's really important here: Babs' infinite desirability. What a jerk. The one thing I will say is that the music in the film is a James Newton Howard score and he's always great to listen to, so there's that.
Well in my 1995 post we went from a G-rated movie for kids and ended with the Scottish war for independence, and we're going on a similar journey this time around as we begin with Beauty and the Beast. And let me make one thing abundantly clear right from the beginning: the fact that this is an animated film should in NO WAY detract from the film's quality and thus its eligibility as a nominee. The director of an animated film still has to set up shots and compose them in such a way as to convey the film's meaning. In fact, they work harder than live-action directors sometimes because they often do a lot of the concept art and artwork themselves. And the composing of music is the same process, in fact this film rightfully won a few Oscars for its sometimes breathtaking and other times flat-out fun and awesome music. The movie seriously makes me cry to this day, I think it's so beautifully put together and charming. It's easily one of the greatest Disney films ever made, if not the greatest. Belle is probably my favorite of the sometimes-infamous "Disney Princesses" because she's pretty but she's also smart (let's be honest, Cinderella was a bit of a flake, Sleeping Beauty was high maintenance, and Jasmine looks like a Kardashian so we all know what that implies). And much like some of my other favorites that I've mentioned on occasion, the movie could easily be cheesy with its "love heals all" message, but the delivery is perfect. I'd put it up against a live-action nominee any day, and it's way better than some of the crap I've had to endure lately.
It would've been nice if I could've segued right into the one I dislike for this year, but alas I cannot. Instead we've got an unfortunately-overlooked gangster film: Bugsy. I'm a big fan of the genre so I was surprised that I had neither seen nor heard of this film before. I'd heard of the man upon which it was based, Bugsy Siegel, but that was about it. Well, it's kind of an unfortunate genre in many ways because it contains what is probably the greatest film of all time and also the greatest television show (which of course began airing 8 years after this movie was released, but still). So you really have to do something different with it to get noticed, and I think this movie really achieves that. Because Bugsy wasn't actually IN the mob, he just utilized similar tactics and did business with them. This might not seem like a relevant discrepancy, but believe me it is. Because if you're in the mob and you make another mob family angry over money, no one wants a mob war and a sit-down is called (yes, I've seen the entire run of The Sopranos multiple times). But if you're not technically associated with anybody, then you could find yourself snoozing with the Pisces. The essential story is the classic Greek-type tragedy (or maybe not Greek...AP English class was a long time ago) wherein the hero has a fatal flaw. In this case, he had two: women and his temper. This is charming in the beginning of the film, and that's how it draws you in. You get to know Benny (as he preferred to be called) and you kind of like him in an odd sort of way. And he ends up with a hot movie-star played by Annette Bening. So the dude is pretty cool. And then he concocts an idea to found a resort/nightclub/casino called "The Flamingo." And you think to yourself: "that's a real place, he must succeed!" Well, he did...but it cost six times as much as he told the mob it would (and Annette was taking a few million off the top). Needless to say, poor Benny didn't last much longer. On the bright side, he was given an exceptionally well-done death scene (it'd be insulting to describe why it was good though). And then the film tells us the gazillions of dollars the casino ended up making. So now Bugsy is pretty much a Vegas god, figures. The highlight is easily Warren Beatty's stunning performance as the man himself, and in another year he might have netted himself an Oscar. Alas, no one had a shot against the winner.
Next up is a film I have some mixed feelings about, but is stylistically outstanding in parts: JFK. It's an Oliver Stone movie, and he can sometimes be a whiny douche (although he's Clint Eastwood as compared to that stunatz James Cameron. Stunatz being the Italian for "pinhead," another gem I picked up from Tony Soprano). But to Oliver Stone's credit, after the more controversial parts of the film were disproven, he came out and said that the conspiracy theory put forth in the film is basically crap. The theory being that the government had JFK killed because he wouldn't go along with invading Vietnam as much as they wanted. Umm...yeah, with an entire government worth of resources you'd think that they'd have been able to off the guy in a somewhat less blatant way. In case anyone's interested (unlikely) my theory is that since JFK had some friends in the mob who helped him get elected, and he then proceeded to become the first president to really crack down on the mob...that wasn't such a great idea. The film actually raises this theory and strikes it down because "when the mob kills you, they use a .22 in the back of your head." WELL, since it's infeasible for a mobster to kill in any other fashion I guess he's correct. All ranting aside, Kevin Costner is his traditional tolerable in this film (he's not bad but he's never particularly good either) but the supporting performances are what bring the film to life with some great work from Donald Sutherland, Gary Oldman, and Kevin Bacon, to name a few. Yet still the best part of the film is the beginning wherein Stone intercuts the infamous Zapruder film with footage that he himself shot. And you really cannot tell the difference, to the point that it's actually kind of frightening. I might be labeling myself as a moron in saying this, but did a dude actually put his umbrella in the air, as if to signal the hit, in real life? Because I honestly have no idea. Anyway, the rest of the film is a mix of courtroom drama and backdoor meetings. The theory itself is drivel, but it is quite an excellent movie from strictly a film perspective.
And NOW I can segue that junk, because a bad film from ANY perspective is: The Prince of Tides. Now, this could've been a pretty great movie. Because the underlying story is fascinating, and by underlying story, I mean the main plot in the book (I looked it up). See, the book focuses predominantly on flashbacks to the main character's childhood while he's in therapy. The movie focuses instead on the romance between the therapist and the main character. Which might not be too bad except the therapist is Barbra Streisand and I find her frightening (also: the main character is Nick Nolte and I find him frightening). But I guess the director was friends with Streisand...hang on, she directed it too. But I'm sure it wasn't her fault that the screenwriters chopped down the interesting part of the story and focused on her character instead, that's more of a producer's decision...wait a second, she produced it too. SO what we've got here is a story that should've been a well-acted and well-written character study and psychological drama that instead was Barbra Streisand saying to the world: "I can be a love interest! I'm still pretty! I can act!" The backstory focuses on the man's abusive childhood and the ultimate trauma of witnessing the rape of his sister and his mother. And then his older brother (a VERY interesting character from the flashbacks who I wanted to see more of, and he was a big part of the book that Mecha-Streisand decided to cut out) comes in and kills two of the rapists and his mother stabs the third. Then they clean up before the abusive dad gets home and go on with dinner as usual. That's pretty disturbing! But it takes a backseat to what's really important here: Babs' infinite desirability. What a jerk. The one thing I will say is that the music in the film is a James Newton Howard score and he's always great to listen to, so there's that.
Well I said we'd come full circle, and we started at a kid's movie and now we arrive at this year's winner: The Silence of the Lambs. And what an extraordinary piece of work it is. It's the first film since 1975's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (and still the only film since) to win Oscars for Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, and Screenplay. And rightfully so, because though the most memorable portion of the movie is Anthony Hopkins' chilling-yet-appealing performance as Hannibal Lecter, the other aspects of the film are also worth mentioning. But first: the obvious. This is easily one of the greatest villain performances of all time and also just one of the greatest of any kind of performance. They had originally tried to cast people like DeNiro in the role, and as much as I love him that would've been TERRIBLE. Because Hopkins is so unassuming in this role that it disarms you. You see DeNiro and you're ready to be tossed through a wall or something. But you see Hopkins and you think to yourself, "what a strange and mysterious little man." Then he starts to speak and a shiver goes down your spine, but at the same time...you can't help but admire him for his genius. And near the beginning of the film he does something disturbingly chivalrous for Clarice (which I won't discuss) in response to an...err...unfortunate incident she experienced while visiting the prison. And so how do we feel about this action? Very mixed, because on one hand it's creepy but on another it's admirable. Just as the entire time we know he knows the identity of the killer Clarice is chasing, but he won't reveal it because he has some ulterior motives. So he's genius! But he's a serial killer...but he's polite! Like really polite...but creepy. It's the ultimate dichotomy played to perfection by Hopkins. But Jodie Foster's performance shouldn't be overlooked, because she has to accurately convey the mixed feelings of dread and admiration that the audience is going through. And that's not easy. It's also not easy to play a vulnerable character in this type of film, especially as the lead. As much as Hopkins might lead the conversations between the two characters, if she didn't do her job just as well then the scenes and the movie wouldn't work at all. One more thing I'll mention: the directing. Jonathan Demme (who tragically hasn't done much since) often shows us the film from Clarice's point of view, such as when she enters the prison. It makes the prison look huge and imposing, which gives the audience a feeling of dread similar to what Clarice felt. But perhaps the best scene is the final conversation the two characters have before Lecter escapes, wherein Demme does two very interesting things: he has Lecter look right into the camera as he seduces Clarice (not in a sexual way, just in a "winning over" sort of way) and thus he is simultaneously seducing the audience. The other thing the director does is frame the shot in such a way where we see Clarice behind the bars (the way Lecter sees her) instead of the other way around, because Lecter holds all the power in their relationship and she is the trapped one. THAT'S how you direct a movie (stupid Babs). The film is pretty disturbing at times, which is why I don't recommend it too often. But this comes more from the psychological aspects and not the gore, which is really only present in one scene. So go watch it! But not alone, or at night, or while eating fava beans.
So there was 1991, an almost perfect year of films. Lots of great directors in there, and one poser. I had taken a little break and watched some Best Picture winners from way back in the 70s and 60s simply because they were films I've been looking to see for a while, and that helped my psyche recover from all of those period pieces. Hopefully 1990 will treat me just as well (psst: I've seen most of them already too, so it's probably good). All I can tell you now is it will see two vast takes on the gangster genre collide, two planes of existence collide (nearby a pottery wheel apparently, hubba hubba), and two normal-sized movies collide to form one big film about Kevin Costner.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
1992: The Year that Dirty Harry Got Old and the Period Piece Reign of Terror Ended
Overall, pretty great year for the Academy. But there's yet another period piece that I am, no joke, CURRENTLY sitting through. It actually bores me to the extent that I am simultaneously doing this blog entry. Which brings to mind: I should do a live video blog, one of a movie I like and one of a movie I really don't. If I had any kind of techno-skills or if I was social enough to ask someone about it who does, that'd be a cool idea. Or I could just get together with the two people who read my blog and pay them to listen to me blather, same thing. But for now, let's get to it.
The first entry is yet another sub-par film coming from the U.K. but not the one I'm currently watching (we really need to stop nominating British films. Is this another form of white guilt: revolutionary guilt?). It's The Crying Game and it might be pretty good aside from the infamous "twist" and a scattered plot. The first 40 minutes or so is largely a two person show between Forest Whitaker, who plays a British soldier, and Stephen Rea, who plays his captor. These scenes are well-acted and give us a nice insight into the psyches of the two men. And I'd like to point out that Forest Whitaker is probably one of the most overlooked and under-utilized actors of our time, he's really quite good. But anyway, once that whole plot thread ends and Forest dies and Stephen wants to go take care of Forest's girlfriend, the film goes downhill really quickly. For those of you who A)are unaware B)don't care or C)do care but it's my blog and I could care less if I spoil it for you: the twist is that the girlfriend is actually a dude. Now you might be thinking: "what is a shocking gender-bending twist doing in a psychological thriller about political strife between Ireland and Britain?" The answer: absolutely nothing. Worst. Twist. Ever. It literally has nothing to do with the story. It's thrown in for seemingly no reason, but was able to net the film some attention and allowed it to gross more money than it likely would have otherwise. But envision this: what if the big twist in Planet of the Apes wasn't that they were on Earth the whole time, but that one of the apes was actually a human in a bad costume the whole time? You might be surprised, sure. But it adds nothing. In fact, in this case, it takes away from a film that was otherwise fairly good. The entire storyline doesn't play at all. And though I knew from the beginning that the girl was a dude, I'm pretty sure I would've either known it anyway or at the very least not found them attractive in the slightest. If they had gotten a woman to play the role, then the audience could've gone through the same type of situation as the character and it might've come off better. Similar to the way that Hannibal Lecter is seducing the audience while he's seducing Clarice because he's looking directly into the camera. Oh and before I move on to the next film, this movie began with the song "When a Man Loves a Woman" and ended with a male-sung version of the song "Stand By Your Man." Is that supposed to be funny? That's what The Simpsons would do, and it left me wondering if the whole twist was supposed to be a joke (it wasn't).
But that day wasn't a total waste because as soon as I was done with that movie I started watching A Few Good Men. I originally phrased that sentence "I popped in A Few Good Men" but I decided that was less than apt...anyway, this film is not only very good it's also interesting to me in a few ways. Actually, just one way: Tom Cruise used to be a good actor. I think as soon as he played the character Jerry Maguire, he just started playing him in every other movie. In this film he does a great job at starting out almost as a "several years later" version of his Top Gun character (whose name escapes me because I really don't like that movie much, it reeks of the 80s). Then as the movie progresses we see that inner district attorney really come out (which I guess is like his work in The Firm? I haven't seen that one either, but if so then I recant my previous statement about his acting, because he's just mixing and matching). Aaaaaaaaaaaand we're bringing the blog back to the movie: it's written by Aaron Sorkin, so right there I knew it would be good. He has a way of integrating humor into drama without taking away from either. And though the movie is about a possibly accidental death within a military barracks, it still manages to be funny. Side note: I looked up The Firm and it came out the year after this, so he's still a poser of himself but not the way we thought. Okay, that was the last one, I promise (until next paragraph). The film sort of under-uses Jack Nicholson, which is really effective because that makes his character more god-like and mysterious. And there's no greater test of a famous line such as "you can't handle the truth!" than when you know it's coming and you've seen it spoofed, and yet it still plays so well. I also really liked how his speech "justifying" the actions taken by his underlings actually made some sense, so it kept the whole situation in a nice shade of grey.
As opposed to my feelings toward this next movie, which is still on as I write this, because those feelings aren't grey. They're the color of intense dislike (orange-ish red?). The movie is Howards End and I'm so glad it's the last British period piece for a while because I really can't take any more. And they're all based on books, so I feel like any kind of subtle brilliance that the stories might have should be attributed to the original author and not the filmmakers. For instance, within this movie the overall plot surrounds property called Howards End. And ownership gets passed around of the property (whilst any number of non-amusing side plots go on). This is supposed to represent how ownership of Britain was uncertain after WWII and at the end of the movie the social situations reflect what ended up happening in Britain. At least, that's what Wikipedia says. I didn't pick up on any of that, and there's still 28 minutes left in the movie so I certainly haven't seen the ending yet. Did you notice how this is yet again a "oh poor Britain, we used to run the world and now we don't" story? Either suck it up or start re-conquering your old territories! I don't care which, just stop complaining about it within films that are 2 hours and 15 minutes or more and essentially consist of British people being snooty and whiny. And they all seem to star Emma Thompson, who I'm really getting sick of seeing. She's a good actress, but all of the characters are basically the same somewhat timid but somewhat forward-thinking British woman. Anthony Hopkins is back too, which is an upshot, but he doesn't have much to do unfortunately. And Helena Bonham-Carter plays the young floozie, which makes no sense. There's a reason she's made a career out of playing crazy witches, women who bake people into pies, and the Queen of Hearts. She's scary. Tim Burton is her lover and the father of her offspring, that says it all right there. Because we've all seen the twisted stuff that goes on in his head (twisted and awesome! I normally like Helena in those roles, but she's miscast here). So there you have it, if anyone else was doing what I'm doing now and reviewing a movie I'm still finishing then I'd probably berate them. But you know what? 24 is over, Lost is over, and so my life is over. So I'm breaking the rules. Plus, the rules don't apply when it's less a film than it is a form of torture and time-sucking.
Now that we've got all that negativity, let me talk about a movie I wasn't expecting to enjoy and ended up loving: Scent of a Woman. I try not to look up anything about the movies I watch if I can avoid it, because then I can have the most pure viewing experience possible. And from the title I expected this movie to be some sort of romantic comedy that somehow snatched Al Pacino for the cast. NOT THE CASE. This is a wonderfully written character study that manages to make its relatively-hefty-for-a-movie-of-its-type running time of 2 hours and 40 seem like nothing. Basically it centers around a student at a prep school (Chris O'Donnell) who takes up a weekend job to earn some extra cash. And that job is to look after a crotchety old war veteran, who is also blind: Al Pacino's well-deserved Oscar-winning performance as Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade. And though the side-plot with Chris is fun and touching in a way (it actually turns into a bit of a precursor to Up in some ways) the movie is really about watching Al Pacino be awesome. Basically: a weekend in the shoes of Frank Slade. He was the Dr. House of the 1990s: an extraordinarily dark character who still manages to make you laugh. The man essentially wants to have one last exciting weekend of his life and then kill himself. And of course that doesn't happen and of course the bond between the two vastly different characters heals them both and all of that stuff that you see coming from minute one. But the script is so great and the performance is so good that no one should care. Also: Al Pacino completely rips apart prep schools and the culture of academics at the end and I flipped out. Because I think "academics" (the people, not education itself) are useless snobs. And so does Frank. If I could make that whole 5 minute speech my ringtone, I would. Great stuff. All in all, this is more of an acting movie than anything else but since the script and the music are also very good I think the movie itself more than earned the nomination.
But it was a lifetime-achievement type year for the Academy, and ironically so (as I'll explain shortly) because the year's winner was none other than Clint Eastwood's final Western: Unforgiven. The reason I say it's ironic is because they wanted to tip their hat to Clint for his body of work, and then he went on to become one of the best directors of our time and earn several more nominations (and he'll probably get a few more in the years to come). However, given the other films that came out in the year, this one actually does manage to be more interesting than the nominees both culturally and within the story. It also features some solid performances from Eastwood himself, Morgan Freeman, and a (somewhat-oddly-awarded) winning performance from Gene Hackman. The directing is beautifully haunting and the story ends up just the way I like them: powerful and somewhat-depressing. It's pretty much the same overall plot: former gunfighter gets pulled back into action to stop a corrupt lawman. Yeah, I know. It's like every other Western. But the delivery is what's so good. It largely functions as a requiem for not only every preceding Eastwood film but also Westerns in general. Clint's character, as a TA of mine once phrased, is the personification of what happens to the hero after he rides off into the sunset. Well, his wife eventually died and now he's stuck doing menial tasks on a farm to scrape a living. And when he finally revert back to his old ways at the end, it's not glamorous. It shows that all of those guys, even if they weren't portrayed this way, were cold-blooded killers who happened to be on the right side. The only Westerns I've seen that also broach this idea are the outstanding The Searchers and The Wild Bunch, directed by John Ford and Sam Peckinpah, respectively. The film reminds us that beneath all the Hollywood glamour, these characters are disturbed individuals doing bad things. Albeit these bad things are to some pretty bad people. But I love the fact that when you shoot a man to an awesome song you get an adrenaline rush and when you shoot him to no music at all, you're disturbed. Aside from all that meta-stuff, the film is pretty solid and has some sweet shoot-outs at the end.
Fittingly, the British nonsense literally just ended as I said "the end." I'm awesome. Now we can say goodbye to all that crap, at least for now. More relevantly, 1992 was a pretty great year. I had seen only one film which I already liked and 50% on the remaining titles is better than I get in some other years. The two I have to watch for 1991 are both on instant watch on Netflix which means I'll either take much less or much more time to watch them. But next year will include: one of film's greatest villains, an animated pariah, and a love story involving two people I find completely unattractive. Should be scary times.
The first entry is yet another sub-par film coming from the U.K. but not the one I'm currently watching (we really need to stop nominating British films. Is this another form of white guilt: revolutionary guilt?). It's The Crying Game and it might be pretty good aside from the infamous "twist" and a scattered plot. The first 40 minutes or so is largely a two person show between Forest Whitaker, who plays a British soldier, and Stephen Rea, who plays his captor. These scenes are well-acted and give us a nice insight into the psyches of the two men. And I'd like to point out that Forest Whitaker is probably one of the most overlooked and under-utilized actors of our time, he's really quite good. But anyway, once that whole plot thread ends and Forest dies and Stephen wants to go take care of Forest's girlfriend, the film goes downhill really quickly. For those of you who A)are unaware B)don't care or C)do care but it's my blog and I could care less if I spoil it for you: the twist is that the girlfriend is actually a dude. Now you might be thinking: "what is a shocking gender-bending twist doing in a psychological thriller about political strife between Ireland and Britain?" The answer: absolutely nothing. Worst. Twist. Ever. It literally has nothing to do with the story. It's thrown in for seemingly no reason, but was able to net the film some attention and allowed it to gross more money than it likely would have otherwise. But envision this: what if the big twist in Planet of the Apes wasn't that they were on Earth the whole time, but that one of the apes was actually a human in a bad costume the whole time? You might be surprised, sure. But it adds nothing. In fact, in this case, it takes away from a film that was otherwise fairly good. The entire storyline doesn't play at all. And though I knew from the beginning that the girl was a dude, I'm pretty sure I would've either known it anyway or at the very least not found them attractive in the slightest. If they had gotten a woman to play the role, then the audience could've gone through the same type of situation as the character and it might've come off better. Similar to the way that Hannibal Lecter is seducing the audience while he's seducing Clarice because he's looking directly into the camera. Oh and before I move on to the next film, this movie began with the song "When a Man Loves a Woman" and ended with a male-sung version of the song "Stand By Your Man." Is that supposed to be funny? That's what The Simpsons would do, and it left me wondering if the whole twist was supposed to be a joke (it wasn't).
But that day wasn't a total waste because as soon as I was done with that movie I started watching A Few Good Men. I originally phrased that sentence "I popped in A Few Good Men" but I decided that was less than apt...anyway, this film is not only very good it's also interesting to me in a few ways. Actually, just one way: Tom Cruise used to be a good actor. I think as soon as he played the character Jerry Maguire, he just started playing him in every other movie. In this film he does a great job at starting out almost as a "several years later" version of his Top Gun character (whose name escapes me because I really don't like that movie much, it reeks of the 80s). Then as the movie progresses we see that inner district attorney really come out (which I guess is like his work in The Firm? I haven't seen that one either, but if so then I recant my previous statement about his acting, because he's just mixing and matching). Aaaaaaaaaaaand we're bringing the blog back to the movie: it's written by Aaron Sorkin, so right there I knew it would be good. He has a way of integrating humor into drama without taking away from either. And though the movie is about a possibly accidental death within a military barracks, it still manages to be funny. Side note: I looked up The Firm and it came out the year after this, so he's still a poser of himself but not the way we thought. Okay, that was the last one, I promise (until next paragraph). The film sort of under-uses Jack Nicholson, which is really effective because that makes his character more god-like and mysterious. And there's no greater test of a famous line such as "you can't handle the truth!" than when you know it's coming and you've seen it spoofed, and yet it still plays so well. I also really liked how his speech "justifying" the actions taken by his underlings actually made some sense, so it kept the whole situation in a nice shade of grey.
As opposed to my feelings toward this next movie, which is still on as I write this, because those feelings aren't grey. They're the color of intense dislike (orange-ish red?). The movie is Howards End and I'm so glad it's the last British period piece for a while because I really can't take any more. And they're all based on books, so I feel like any kind of subtle brilliance that the stories might have should be attributed to the original author and not the filmmakers. For instance, within this movie the overall plot surrounds property called Howards End. And ownership gets passed around of the property (whilst any number of non-amusing side plots go on). This is supposed to represent how ownership of Britain was uncertain after WWII and at the end of the movie the social situations reflect what ended up happening in Britain. At least, that's what Wikipedia says. I didn't pick up on any of that, and there's still 28 minutes left in the movie so I certainly haven't seen the ending yet. Did you notice how this is yet again a "oh poor Britain, we used to run the world and now we don't" story? Either suck it up or start re-conquering your old territories! I don't care which, just stop complaining about it within films that are 2 hours and 15 minutes or more and essentially consist of British people being snooty and whiny. And they all seem to star Emma Thompson, who I'm really getting sick of seeing. She's a good actress, but all of the characters are basically the same somewhat timid but somewhat forward-thinking British woman. Anthony Hopkins is back too, which is an upshot, but he doesn't have much to do unfortunately. And Helena Bonham-Carter plays the young floozie, which makes no sense. There's a reason she's made a career out of playing crazy witches, women who bake people into pies, and the Queen of Hearts. She's scary. Tim Burton is her lover and the father of her offspring, that says it all right there. Because we've all seen the twisted stuff that goes on in his head (twisted and awesome! I normally like Helena in those roles, but she's miscast here). So there you have it, if anyone else was doing what I'm doing now and reviewing a movie I'm still finishing then I'd probably berate them. But you know what? 24 is over, Lost is over, and so my life is over. So I'm breaking the rules. Plus, the rules don't apply when it's less a film than it is a form of torture and time-sucking.
Now that we've got all that negativity, let me talk about a movie I wasn't expecting to enjoy and ended up loving: Scent of a Woman. I try not to look up anything about the movies I watch if I can avoid it, because then I can have the most pure viewing experience possible. And from the title I expected this movie to be some sort of romantic comedy that somehow snatched Al Pacino for the cast. NOT THE CASE. This is a wonderfully written character study that manages to make its relatively-hefty-for-a-movie-of-its-type running time of 2 hours and 40 seem like nothing. Basically it centers around a student at a prep school (Chris O'Donnell) who takes up a weekend job to earn some extra cash. And that job is to look after a crotchety old war veteran, who is also blind: Al Pacino's well-deserved Oscar-winning performance as Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade. And though the side-plot with Chris is fun and touching in a way (it actually turns into a bit of a precursor to Up in some ways) the movie is really about watching Al Pacino be awesome. Basically: a weekend in the shoes of Frank Slade. He was the Dr. House of the 1990s: an extraordinarily dark character who still manages to make you laugh. The man essentially wants to have one last exciting weekend of his life and then kill himself. And of course that doesn't happen and of course the bond between the two vastly different characters heals them both and all of that stuff that you see coming from minute one. But the script is so great and the performance is so good that no one should care. Also: Al Pacino completely rips apart prep schools and the culture of academics at the end and I flipped out. Because I think "academics" (the people, not education itself) are useless snobs. And so does Frank. If I could make that whole 5 minute speech my ringtone, I would. Great stuff. All in all, this is more of an acting movie than anything else but since the script and the music are also very good I think the movie itself more than earned the nomination.
But it was a lifetime-achievement type year for the Academy, and ironically so (as I'll explain shortly) because the year's winner was none other than Clint Eastwood's final Western: Unforgiven. The reason I say it's ironic is because they wanted to tip their hat to Clint for his body of work, and then he went on to become one of the best directors of our time and earn several more nominations (and he'll probably get a few more in the years to come). However, given the other films that came out in the year, this one actually does manage to be more interesting than the nominees both culturally and within the story. It also features some solid performances from Eastwood himself, Morgan Freeman, and a (somewhat-oddly-awarded) winning performance from Gene Hackman. The directing is beautifully haunting and the story ends up just the way I like them: powerful and somewhat-depressing. It's pretty much the same overall plot: former gunfighter gets pulled back into action to stop a corrupt lawman. Yeah, I know. It's like every other Western. But the delivery is what's so good. It largely functions as a requiem for not only every preceding Eastwood film but also Westerns in general. Clint's character, as a TA of mine once phrased, is the personification of what happens to the hero after he rides off into the sunset. Well, his wife eventually died and now he's stuck doing menial tasks on a farm to scrape a living. And when he finally revert back to his old ways at the end, it's not glamorous. It shows that all of those guys, even if they weren't portrayed this way, were cold-blooded killers who happened to be on the right side. The only Westerns I've seen that also broach this idea are the outstanding The Searchers and The Wild Bunch, directed by John Ford and Sam Peckinpah, respectively. The film reminds us that beneath all the Hollywood glamour, these characters are disturbed individuals doing bad things. Albeit these bad things are to some pretty bad people. But I love the fact that when you shoot a man to an awesome song you get an adrenaline rush and when you shoot him to no music at all, you're disturbed. Aside from all that meta-stuff, the film is pretty solid and has some sweet shoot-outs at the end.
Fittingly, the British nonsense literally just ended as I said "the end." I'm awesome. Now we can say goodbye to all that crap, at least for now. More relevantly, 1992 was a pretty great year. I had seen only one film which I already liked and 50% on the remaining titles is better than I get in some other years. The two I have to watch for 1991 are both on instant watch on Netflix which means I'll either take much less or much more time to watch them. But next year will include: one of film's greatest villains, an animated pariah, and a love story involving two people I find completely unattractive. Should be scary times.
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