Well I only recently put up my most recent blog entry, but I figured I'd get right to this one. Because what if I got whacked on the head and completely forgot about all of these movies? Then when I discovered my own blog, I'd think I'd still have this whole year to watch and that would be a waste of time. This was another year of some pretty freaking long movies too. They ranged from mediocre all the way up to outstanding though. Plus, soon the movies will be getting a lot shorter (overall). And contrary to some of my frequent complaints, I love a lengthy film. It has to earn it but when it does there is no comparison. This year's winner is one of those films. But we'll get to that later.
First we'll talk about a truly odd film experience: The Longest Day. I mean, it wasn't odd in the way that a Tim Burton adaptation of Cirque du Soleil would be. It actually covers one of the most overused plotlines in film (and especially Oscar) history: World War II. Specifically D-Day. Of course, anything about D-Day is reverse ruined by Spielberg's incredible depiction at the beginning of Saving Private Ryan. Actually, the WWII film that this movie reminded me of the most is The Thin Red Line. You'd have to go way back in my archive for that blog entry, but the gist was that it was one celebrity appearance after another with no real story for anybody. And it's the same case here. There are a TON of big time actors in it. But some of them are in it for such a brief scene that you barely realize they were there to begin with. Plus, I always get people mixed up in these movies anyway. Especially if I don't have their faces ingrained in my memory and especially if it's in black and white. The lack of attention to character is more forgivable in this type of film because it's unrealistic to have a bunch of soul-searching on Normandy Beach. But when you look at what Spielberg did (as well as lots of other people before him of course) then you will see how he fits little moments into the film that truly ground the characters involved. The scene I always point to in Ryan is when it's revealed that Tom Hanks' character is a high school teacher. It reminds you that these soldiers were just ordinary men, and aside from the occasional badass/nutjob like Patton most of them would have rather been elsewhere. This movie spends 3 hours doing a lot of setup and then even more of the actual battle. The battle itself is very impressive filmmaking, but it goes on WAY too long. It's basically a shortened documentary of what it would have actually been like. Which sounds interesting, but there's a lot of 50s type violence where there's a lot of shooting and not dying. And when you spend that much time on anything (I think it might be close to 2 hours of the whole movie) you lose something. There's no tension. There's already very little tension because you know who wins. And what made me laugh is the screenwriter was adapting the screenplay from his own book. And I thought to myself: "how would this fill up a book?" Unless he decimated his own work of course. Otherwise I'd imagine it was around 300 pages of: "and then another explosion occurred and people died. Then someone got shot. Then another guy whose name I missed and kind of looked like John Wayne disappeared or something." It's of course impossible for me to view it with the type of cinematic eye I would have had back then, and I'm sure it would have blown my mind back then. But it doesn't really hold up too well as compared to heaps of other movies made about the same subject.
Speaking of heaps of similar movies, another "musical about nothing" is The Music Man. Although I will say that this is probably about as good as a musical about nothing gets. It's far more charming than most and it has far less canned drama. Plus a lot of the songs are genuinely catchy and the dance sequences aren't quite as overdone (still overdone though). I was worried in the opening number though...which essentially consisted of a bunch of dudes on a train not really singing but instead making noises to a beat. Pretty much "wiki what wiki wiki wiki what!" for five minutes or so. It single-handedly killed any hopes of ever having an upper crust middle-aged white guy rapper. They eventually got to the classic songs and those are obviously better. The addition of lyrics is an important touch. And young Ron Howard was easily the highlight. Not because of his performance, just because he was Ron Howard. He looked a little bit like me when I was a small child with red hair (that eventually changed color) if you ask me. Which obviously means I'm going to grow up to narrate Arrested Development and direct The Dark Tower. Saweet. Let me point out something that bothers me about all of these movies though. There's always some gorgeous woman (in this case Shirley Jones) who's just sitting around in a nondescript job (in this case a librarian, that's right: the hot librarian) waiting for a guy to take an interest in her. I sincerely hope they were just making an artistic choice there and that it wasn't representative of the time. Because if every small town in 1962 had a Shirley Jones waiting for someone to be nice to her then I hate myself even more for being born anytime after that year. Although I'm not sure I've set foot in a library since I was a child...mostly because I still have their VHS copy of The Lorax and I don't want to get hit with a $27,000 fine. Anyway, I asked my parents if there was any subtext to the movie of showing the gullibility and possible stupidity of small town America, but they assured me that the movie barely had text text. How unfortunate. Didn't they know it was entirely possible to make a kid-friendly movie that becomes an "oh my this is actually disturbing in a social commentary way!" movie as an adult? Oh well. Spoiler Alert: the two main characters wind up together in the end and it's happy and stuff. There were certainly scenes that I truly enjoyed, mostly the scene where he convinces the town that pool tables will lead to STDs and lesbianism (subtly implied). Because I love that type of silver-tongued sneakiness. Even when it comes in the form of an over-the-top dance scene within a movie that is half an hour too long.
But half an hour too long is still better than a whole hour too long, which is exactly how I'd describe Mutiny on the Bounty. An earlier (and universally acclaimed) version of the film won Best Picture and so I'll save some of my overall story thoughts for that movie. Although...in case of that aforementioned conk on the head I'd better say everything now. I'll just repeat myself slightly in 193X. This movie was a MESS behind the scenes. They mention it in the same breath as Cleopatra, because both films went through way too many script changes on the set and went way over budget and had self-centered stars who screwed up the whole thing. But whereas Elizabeth Taylor was just a diva, Marlon Brando was a complete tool. The man was one of the greatest film actors of all time, no question. But what a jerk. So much so that Richard Harris acted his half of Brando's death scene to a log and told Brando to do the same. Gotta love that. And plus, Brando was not good in this movie. He had a British accent that was more a farce than anything else. I myself can do some pretty great voices (if I do say so) but I can't really do a British one. So I don't try. But even my ego would be supremely eclipsed by his so I guess it never occurred to him that Fletcher Christian might not have actually sounded like a flamboyant British gigolo. Trevor Howard's performance as Captain Bligh is much better, but apparently he wasn't even that mean in real life. I feel like that's kind of messed up. How did they not get sued by the dude's family? I'm not normally an advocate of rampany suing, but when you portray a dude as a sadist when he really wasn't then that's a step too far. On the subject of the "real life" aspect: this story really isn't that interesting. Not that it couldn't be done in an interesting way, because Pulp Fiction is about gangsters talking about nonsense and it's one of my favorite movies ever. What I mean is: what about the historical story itself would make anyone want to write a book about it at all, let alone make people want to adapt that book into a film? The guys on the ship are transporting breadfruit to an island so it can grow and become cheap food for slaves. Heroic, right? Scratch that. I'm not even going to pick on it for not being heroic. That's just plain not interesting at all. And no, breadfruit wasn't the pre-modern unobtanium, it was a real thing. James Cameron should pay me for all the mentions I give him I think. Then when you're over halfway through this mess of a film, the mutiny finally happens. And it lasts like twelve seconds. Seriously. I almost missed it. Okay so maybe that's how it was in real life. And I might accept that BUT they didn't seem to care about historical fact in the rest of the movie. And if you're going to crap on history, you should do it in an interesting way. I will say that somewhere in-between the extended dance sequences and excessive amounts of drinking/bro-ing out 18th Century style there was some really great cinematography and some good music. The director had done some masterpieces in the past, and maybe if Brando hadn't usurped most of his power then the movie would have been worth something.
A mercifully-short and mercifully-good film is To Kill a Mockingbird. I watched it a long time ago with my dad and found it to be quite powerful but I also decided to re-watch it recently and found it to be just as powerful. It's a great example of social commentary fueling a plot rather than replacing a plot. It's about a lot of things but the theme of racism is prevalent throughout it. It's about the immortal Atticus Finch (I say immortal because he's a well-known character. He is not, in fact, unable to die) and his quest to save an innocent man from death row. One thing I think is cool about it is that it tells the story from his daughter's point of view, which makes Atticus into a more mythical character. In much the same way a certain 1959 Best Picture winning epic did in relation to Jesus. Or the way Terminator Salvation treated John Connor. And yes this is the first time those 3 movies have been mentioned/alluded to in the same paragraph in the history of humankind. But that's why I'm here folks. In this case, I'd say it's the film's only flaw because Atticus' daughter is WAY annoying. Maybe it's just because Gregory Peck does such an outstanding job and you only want to see what he's up to, or the fact that her Southern whiny voice narrates the whole fricking movie. Plus, her nickname is "Scout." So her name is Scout Finch. That sounds like a "Fox Force Five" reject. And if any women out there immediately recognized that reference then I think we might be soulmates. Anyway, I should also point out that my Aunt used to tell me this story when I was a kid. Not the part about a white woman claiming a black guy raped her because she was ashamed that she was attacted to him. That might have messed me up slightly. Instead the part about the local strange man "Boo" Radley (played by a young Robert Duvall, who totally nails his slightly-more-than-a-cameo role) and how he was really a good guy the whole time. Everyone thought he was some sort of psycho but really they were all afraid for no reason. That of course being a big metaphor for the type of unfounced racial prejudice in the country at that time (and sadly today). And as the title expands on in the film "it's a sin to kill a mockingbird because they do nothing but make music for us to enjoy." In other words: don't bother screwing over things that aren't bothering you. The court case has a sad ending but the film leaves you with the hope that Scout's generation will grow up knowing that men like the unfortunately accused defendant and Boo Radley shouldn't cause fear in the slightest. And having that ingrained in my mind as a child was a big part of cementing my film/life philosophy of looking at possibly terrible human beings from their own point of view. One of my favorite professors gave us one of his favorite quotes that sums it up perfectly: "to understand all is to forgive all." I've written of this many times in reference to guys like Lex Luthor and Benjamin Linus and it all started with the first time I heard this story. So it holds a special place in my heart, and it's a great film to boot.
And in any other year it might have been the rightful winner, but this was the year of the incredible epic Lawrence of Arabia. Steven Spielberg himself called this the greatest film of all time. Or maybe it was his favorite film of all time...I forget. I always mix it up with a certain overlooked 1956 Western as to which is the favorite and which is the best. And the fact that Spielberg places emphasis on both in much the same OCD way that I do gives me hope for the future. Anyway, this movie is universally remembered as having some of the best cinematography of all time. All of which is accentuated by Maurice Jarre's incredible score. It's filmed in a WAY skinny widescreen so the size and scope of the images themselves define the term breathtaking. But I've used that term before to describe scenery in a film, usually within a movie that I find otherwise pretty worthless like Out of Africa. But this has an actual story to back everything up. It's a World War I tale, which is very refreshing to me. Because World War II was interesting and everything but WWI was far more politically interesting and not nearly as much stuff was made about it. It centers around a man who was a bit of a misfit, but who blended in with the Arabs better than any other British soldier ever could. He earned their respect. Notice how this is the originator in that chain I often mention that ends with Avatar. Because this movie did it first, did it best, and shouldn't have been copied. The plot itself progresses in a fairly ordinary fashion, but it really won me over with a particular succession of scenes. The first one portrays Lawrence risking his life to save one of the Bedouins from the wilderness. It's a defining moment for the film and for his character. Then a few scenes later the same man breaks the rules and the penalty is death. Lawrence elects to kill the man himself, even though you can tell he hates himself for it (excellent performance by Peter O'Toole). It's a dark scene, made even more intense by the earlier heroism toward the same man. Both scenes solidify his prestige with the Bedouins but for completely different reasons. He then goes on to lead them in their revolt in some spectacular battle scenes (David Lean outdoes himself, probably his best work) before succumbing to a mediocre death in much the same way Patton would later in American history. Both very different but both great warriors who died in vehicle accidents. Also like Patton, Lawrence found himself out of place in the world. He wasn't truly accepted in the end by either the Arabs or the British. And so, like many heroes throughout history, he was rejected. The type of filmmaking that brought this incredible film to life doesn't really exist anymore. Spielberg said it would cost like 700 million dollars or something crazy to have all real horses riding into battle on location and whatnot. That's a shame. Because CGI allows for some wonderful things but at the end of the day it's not real. Whereas this movie brought the story to life in as realistic a manner as was humanly possible. I eagerly await the highly-anticipated Blu-Ray release because it's a movie that I can truly say earned every second of its 3 hours and 46 minutes.
Well 2 blog entries in a 24-hour period isn't too bad I think. And I did this one whilst re-watching some True Blood so it was a supremely odd experience. And awesome. I hope I can say the same about the next year, but I still have 3 left to watch so it might take a bit (depending on my patience levels). All I can say for now is it will include dancing thugs, pool-playing sitcom characters, and repentant Nazis. Sadly not all in the same movie.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
1963: The Year that Was Long Enough to Fill Six Movie Slots
Not actually. But time-wise, you bet. In fact, one of this year's nominees was intended to be two movies but they instead decided to make it one big hunk of nonsense. Which is just as well, because otherwise I'd have had to bring myself to watch two overdone movies and that would have taken some serious willpower. I'm not sure I have anything good at all to say about this year. In fact, I'm pretty positive that I don't. It contains what I deem to be the worst Best Picture winner of all time, at least from 1963-2010 and probably ever. No joke. It made me look back on Terms of Endearment fondly (almost).
Our first selection is a very sub-par Elia Kazan film entitled America, America. The only kind of cool thing I can say about this is that I am probably the first person to ever get it from Netflix. And quite possibly still the only person. I know this because the DVD was just released fairly recently and I had it sent to me by Netflix the second it became available to them. The DVD I received was far more pristine than every other Netflix disc I've ever gotten so I'm at least one of the first to get it. That's probably the most positive thing I can say. The fact that this movie was directed by the same man who directed one of the greatest Best Picture winners of all time is baffling to me. His entire body of work is masterful, except for this one. Plenty of people sing its praises but I really don't see it. It reverse reminded me of Zorba the Greek in the sense that it was way too long, black and white, and about a Greek guy who isn't a very admirable human being that the screenwriter wants you to feel for. Except this guy is leaving Greece for a better life, and where? Hint: it's in the title. Twice. Really dumb title. I think in the movie itself it actually has an exclamation point but I could be wrong. Some of the cinematography is indeed stunning, but that's mostly in the first ten minutes. What follows is a tale of a guy who is quite honestly really dumb. And it's loosely based on the story of Kazan's uncle coming to America to make a better life for his family. That sounds highly admirable. But his uncle was either really dumb and somehow Gump-ed himself into helping his entire family or Kazan secretly thought his uncle was a schmuck and wanted to make him look bad. The man gets bamboozled out of his money on several occasions, he marries a chick for her money and leaves her, and there were one or two run-ins with various prostitutes if I remember correctly. Which I might not because I watched it several weeks ago and it's really boring. By the time he reaches America all the movie has time for is a scene where he's a shoeshine boy. Which might be okay in a different movie that was shorter and that had a more consistent narrative. But at the end of almost 3 hours of random nonsense I really wanted to see a bit more than just a Greek dude shining some shoes with the promise that he'd save his tips until he had enough pennies saved up to build modern America single-handedly. Or something. And then just as the credits start to roll and you figure that you're free to go, Kazan literally starts READING the credits. "The Production was Designed by Gene Callahan. The Editing was done by" whoever. He mercifully stops after the main people and before the caterers but it's quite ridiculous. Maybe it was a personal enough project for him that he wanted to recognize everyone individually. Or maybe he thought that only he could call people's attention to them, otherwise no one would notice. Don't know. Don't care. Waste of life.
But it's only just under 75% of the waste of life that is Cleopatra. This is remembered as one of the biggest flops ever, although it apparently made back its money eventually. If you adjusted its budget for inflation the final number would be a staggering 297 million dollars. Which makes it one of the most expensive films ever produced. It was originally intended to be two 3 hour films, one about her and Caesar and one about her and Antony. Instead it's a 4 hour mess of both and it might be the most overdone film ever. Even with all of that, my dad walked in when I was watching it and said, "with all the money they spent it looks like Rex Harrison is in a hotel lobby instead of ancient Egypt." Yes, that's right. Rex Harrison. The inspiration for Stewie played Julius Caesar. If he had said "victory is mine!" at any point I would have flipped out. He was WAY too British for that role. The only highlights of the movie I can think of are A) James Bond's Q makes an appearance as a Roman senator and B) it does star the eternal hottie Elizabeth Taylor. And make no mistake, for 1963 or for any time from now until the end of everything she was a gorgeous human being. I think she might be the only reason anyone has ever sat through this movie, including the director. And if I was a twelve-year-old boy then the fact that she is looking good in all 65 (a record-setting amount of costumes for a film) of her outfits whilst surrounded by other scantily-clad handmaidens then it might be my favorite movie. But since I am not, in fact, a twelve-year-old boy it was more like "the only reason this 4-hour putrescence isn't killing me is the fact that she's in it." The reason I use the word "putrescence" is because I think it makes garbage sound sexy. The plot itself is the same plot that's been done bunches of times, about the world's first femme fatale. A woman whose exotic beauty influenced the largest empire the world had ever seen. This story was done in a much better way on HBO's Rome, although I think they intentionally made up Cleopatra to look a bit mannish. Because after Elizabeth Taylor does it, you really just have to go in a different direction with the look. The woman who played her on TV is certainly good looking in real life but her hair was shorter than mine and she had weird tattoos and stuff. If I'm harping on Elizabeth a lot it's because that was also the main draw of the film at the time. The main reason they didn't want it to be 2 movies is because her real-life lover Richard Burton (who plays Antony) wouldn't be in it until the second movie and they figured no one would see the first. I don't think they were giving audiences enough credit. But if they were then shame on the audiences of the 60s because they were worse than today. And they didn't even seem to have much chemistry. I think all 3 of the main people are great actors, as I believe I've mentioned each of them in the past, but none of them are good in this. They say Elizabeth vomited after she saw the movie for the first time. Although that could have just been from the physical toll of watching a 4-hour movie where very little happens and nothing unexpected happens. But now I can say that I've seen the film that "killed the sword-and-sandal movies" and "nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox." So there you go.
Not much unlike a certain 2009 blockbuster is the epic western How The West Was Won. Because it was more about the spectacle and the medium itself than the movie. The 2009 blockbuster I'm of course referring to is James Cameron's Avatar, and that right there folks is my 67,000th reference to Mr. Cameron and his movie that I have a hate/love/hate relationship with. This particular epic western isn't bad though. The music is particularly fantastic and includes orchestrations of old standards such as "Greensleeves." In fact, the best parts of the movie were probably the Overture, Entr'Acte, and Exit which just consisted of the music and a nifty painting. The rest of it is fairly overdone, as it was done in something called Cinerama that was intended to take up 3 (3!) separate screens. The DVD restoration from a few years ago is incredible in that it converts the film into a normal aspect ratio without distorting the picture (mostly) and without distracting lines left over from where the reels were put together. It was a format normally reserved for documentaries and you can kind of see why that would be the case because the actors and directors had a rough time with the equipment. The whole thing plays like a living documentary and it's unsurprising because it was based on a series of articles in "Life" magazine. As such, while some of the scenery/cinematography is breathtaking, there's nothing to really hold onto narrative-wise. It chronicles 5 different locations/periods of time within one family's journey through America during our most tumultuous historical era. This would work really well as a miniseries because then you would be able to branch out each of the 5 stories a little bit more. The film is fairly lengthy at a little over 2 hours and 40 minutes but that's not nearly enough time to do what is essentially five movies. So just as you start to get used to a set of characters and a particular tone, it changes. Thankfully 3 of the 5 segments are directed by the same person, so that helps bring a sense of continuity. And Debbie Reynolds is in enough of the segments to create a connection between them. The rest of it is filled out with a ridiculous amount of stars, including the two craziest voices of the era: John Wayne and Jimmy Stewart. If they had a scene together I would have been giddy with excitement but they sadly did not. But even with all of that, overall it's more of a spectacle than anything else. Which is fine I guess, and considering the other drivel from this year I can't really get too upset about it either. In fact, watching it was downright pleasant as compared to some other things.
Well that was tame of me...and we'll keep it tame with Lilies of the Field. I didn't think this movie was particularly good but it also wasn't overtly terrible. And it was a MERCIFUL hour-and-a-half long. After two 3-hour movies and a 4-hour movie I'm so glad this was normal length. Sidney Poitier earned an Academy Award for his performance in this film, which is kind of unfortunate. And I will tell you exactly why. He gave a lot of powerful performances in his career that were quite realistically a big part of the Civil Rights movement of the time. He showed us that not only could a black man act, he could do it better than the vast majority of his peers. And they gave him an award for playing what was essentially the "happy negro." Not trying to stir up controversy, that's literally the only phrase to describe his character within the context. You've got lots of happy negro banjo music going while the somewhat-bumbling-but-good-natured friendly black guy comes across some Nuns who are in need of assistance. They believe that God has sent him to help them. Because he needed some gas for his car and I guess if Jesus didn't want him to stop there then He wouldn't have made Sidney waste all that gas on late-night White Castle runs. And I guess the various other people who probably stop for gas there on a daily basis weren't sent by God and were only there to pump the gas and be on their way. I personally think the nuns were hoping that Mr. Poitier wanted a little cream with his coffee but that's just me. For the relatively short length of the film, it has a remarkably small amount of variety. Sidney teaches the nuns how to sing a down-home Southern song, he helps build a bit of their church, some almost-interesting religious conversation takes place...rinse and repeat. You could call the film charming but it's just so repetitive that it only could have functioned as an episode of Gunsmoke or something. Which is why it baffles me that it was a book. Either they cut out 90% of the story or they were using the term "book" loosely. Either way, Mr. Poitier does do a great job but it's within a role that's not particularly interesting. Still a big victory for him and for America, but I wish it would have come in a different form.
And this brings me to this year's winner, which is the non-hyperbolic worst Best Picture of all time (so far) Tom Jones. When I first saw the title I thought it was a biography of the singer. Not only would I say that a biography of the singer would be better, I would also say that 2 hours of just Tom Jones singing would be both more enjoyable than the film and better as a movie. Even if the camera never moved and it didn't cut out Tom stopping for a sip of water, ad-libbing goofy jokes with the audience, and whatever sub-par comedian half-time show he might have. This movie is actually based on a bawdy-for-its-time book from the 1800s about a dude trying to achieve some upward mobility in society. Wow. What a brilliant plot. Throwing in obscure references to sex doesn't make that interesting. And that's apparently the biggest draw that the film had. Obscure references to sex. And either they were SO obscure that I didn't notice them, or 3 was a big number of innuendos for 1963. Because I didn't think it was bawdy in even an "old timey" way. Cleopatra was filled to the brim with stupid innuendos such as "oh yes well you will have to give me a tour of your palace sometime princess." HA! Get it? He wasn't talking about the building! Unless that building was a brick house! OH SNAP. Boy that's Oscar-worthy dialogue. Of course, I could be entirely wrong about the source material and maybe the original novel about the mobility upward-er was meant to be taken somewhat seriously and was considered controversial but not because that was the author's intention. If that's the case then I hope the author's descendents weren't around to see his work turned into a really terrible Marx brothers film. Imagine the tone of a Marx brothers movie without any of the brilliance and that's basically this movie. The first five minutes are done as a silent film. Why? Just cuz. I tried to think of possibly artistic reasons but I couldn't come up with any. The fourth wall would occasionally be broken to say things that are only entertaining because they're being said to the audience. And at one point the main character hangs his hat over the camera, presumably just to do it. They're basically adopting a (maybe) farcical work of literature by making a farce of a farce. And that doesn't really work. Because if you're saying that farces are stupid then that means real period-piece drama isn't, which means you're not making the movie you respect and are instead making the thing you're making fun of. Something that complicated should be clever, but it's not. Because I just came up with that. I'm clever. They're dumb. Terrible movie. Doesn't know what it is. Isn't funny. Isn't bawdy. Isn't interesting. And yet it won the year after one of the greatest Best Picture winners/films in general of all time. No justice in the world I tell you. But I suppose that since the modern day equivalent would have been giving the Oscar to The Hangover for having the audacity to show a scrawny Asian man's penis then maybe the Academy has learned something after all. Although it did win the Golden Globe for comedy...
Well there you have it, quite a boring year overall. And a freaking long one. Holy crap. Even though 2 of the films were normal-sized, this year had a grand total of something like 12 hours of movie. I've already seen every 1962 movie, and it's been that way for some time because its nominees are considered things that people should watch. Instead of things people should watch if they're crazy and feel like watching every Oscar nominee. There's another crazy long movie in 1962 but it's actually good so you don't notice that it takes up a sizable chunk of your life. Aside from that seminal classic you can also expect such things as friendly albinos, scary Tahitians, and cheery Gary, Indianans. It's a verifiable who's who of ridiculous movie characters.
Our first selection is a very sub-par Elia Kazan film entitled America, America. The only kind of cool thing I can say about this is that I am probably the first person to ever get it from Netflix. And quite possibly still the only person. I know this because the DVD was just released fairly recently and I had it sent to me by Netflix the second it became available to them. The DVD I received was far more pristine than every other Netflix disc I've ever gotten so I'm at least one of the first to get it. That's probably the most positive thing I can say. The fact that this movie was directed by the same man who directed one of the greatest Best Picture winners of all time is baffling to me. His entire body of work is masterful, except for this one. Plenty of people sing its praises but I really don't see it. It reverse reminded me of Zorba the Greek in the sense that it was way too long, black and white, and about a Greek guy who isn't a very admirable human being that the screenwriter wants you to feel for. Except this guy is leaving Greece for a better life, and where? Hint: it's in the title. Twice. Really dumb title. I think in the movie itself it actually has an exclamation point but I could be wrong. Some of the cinematography is indeed stunning, but that's mostly in the first ten minutes. What follows is a tale of a guy who is quite honestly really dumb. And it's loosely based on the story of Kazan's uncle coming to America to make a better life for his family. That sounds highly admirable. But his uncle was either really dumb and somehow Gump-ed himself into helping his entire family or Kazan secretly thought his uncle was a schmuck and wanted to make him look bad. The man gets bamboozled out of his money on several occasions, he marries a chick for her money and leaves her, and there were one or two run-ins with various prostitutes if I remember correctly. Which I might not because I watched it several weeks ago and it's really boring. By the time he reaches America all the movie has time for is a scene where he's a shoeshine boy. Which might be okay in a different movie that was shorter and that had a more consistent narrative. But at the end of almost 3 hours of random nonsense I really wanted to see a bit more than just a Greek dude shining some shoes with the promise that he'd save his tips until he had enough pennies saved up to build modern America single-handedly. Or something. And then just as the credits start to roll and you figure that you're free to go, Kazan literally starts READING the credits. "The Production was Designed by Gene Callahan. The Editing was done by" whoever. He mercifully stops after the main people and before the caterers but it's quite ridiculous. Maybe it was a personal enough project for him that he wanted to recognize everyone individually. Or maybe he thought that only he could call people's attention to them, otherwise no one would notice. Don't know. Don't care. Waste of life.
But it's only just under 75% of the waste of life that is Cleopatra. This is remembered as one of the biggest flops ever, although it apparently made back its money eventually. If you adjusted its budget for inflation the final number would be a staggering 297 million dollars. Which makes it one of the most expensive films ever produced. It was originally intended to be two 3 hour films, one about her and Caesar and one about her and Antony. Instead it's a 4 hour mess of both and it might be the most overdone film ever. Even with all of that, my dad walked in when I was watching it and said, "with all the money they spent it looks like Rex Harrison is in a hotel lobby instead of ancient Egypt." Yes, that's right. Rex Harrison. The inspiration for Stewie played Julius Caesar. If he had said "victory is mine!" at any point I would have flipped out. He was WAY too British for that role. The only highlights of the movie I can think of are A) James Bond's Q makes an appearance as a Roman senator and B) it does star the eternal hottie Elizabeth Taylor. And make no mistake, for 1963 or for any time from now until the end of everything she was a gorgeous human being. I think she might be the only reason anyone has ever sat through this movie, including the director. And if I was a twelve-year-old boy then the fact that she is looking good in all 65 (a record-setting amount of costumes for a film) of her outfits whilst surrounded by other scantily-clad handmaidens then it might be my favorite movie. But since I am not, in fact, a twelve-year-old boy it was more like "the only reason this 4-hour putrescence isn't killing me is the fact that she's in it." The reason I use the word "putrescence" is because I think it makes garbage sound sexy. The plot itself is the same plot that's been done bunches of times, about the world's first femme fatale. A woman whose exotic beauty influenced the largest empire the world had ever seen. This story was done in a much better way on HBO's Rome, although I think they intentionally made up Cleopatra to look a bit mannish. Because after Elizabeth Taylor does it, you really just have to go in a different direction with the look. The woman who played her on TV is certainly good looking in real life but her hair was shorter than mine and she had weird tattoos and stuff. If I'm harping on Elizabeth a lot it's because that was also the main draw of the film at the time. The main reason they didn't want it to be 2 movies is because her real-life lover Richard Burton (who plays Antony) wouldn't be in it until the second movie and they figured no one would see the first. I don't think they were giving audiences enough credit. But if they were then shame on the audiences of the 60s because they were worse than today. And they didn't even seem to have much chemistry. I think all 3 of the main people are great actors, as I believe I've mentioned each of them in the past, but none of them are good in this. They say Elizabeth vomited after she saw the movie for the first time. Although that could have just been from the physical toll of watching a 4-hour movie where very little happens and nothing unexpected happens. But now I can say that I've seen the film that "killed the sword-and-sandal movies" and "nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox." So there you go.
Not much unlike a certain 2009 blockbuster is the epic western How The West Was Won. Because it was more about the spectacle and the medium itself than the movie. The 2009 blockbuster I'm of course referring to is James Cameron's Avatar, and that right there folks is my 67,000th reference to Mr. Cameron and his movie that I have a hate/love/hate relationship with. This particular epic western isn't bad though. The music is particularly fantastic and includes orchestrations of old standards such as "Greensleeves." In fact, the best parts of the movie were probably the Overture, Entr'Acte, and Exit which just consisted of the music and a nifty painting. The rest of it is fairly overdone, as it was done in something called Cinerama that was intended to take up 3 (3!) separate screens. The DVD restoration from a few years ago is incredible in that it converts the film into a normal aspect ratio without distorting the picture (mostly) and without distracting lines left over from where the reels were put together. It was a format normally reserved for documentaries and you can kind of see why that would be the case because the actors and directors had a rough time with the equipment. The whole thing plays like a living documentary and it's unsurprising because it was based on a series of articles in "Life" magazine. As such, while some of the scenery/cinematography is breathtaking, there's nothing to really hold onto narrative-wise. It chronicles 5 different locations/periods of time within one family's journey through America during our most tumultuous historical era. This would work really well as a miniseries because then you would be able to branch out each of the 5 stories a little bit more. The film is fairly lengthy at a little over 2 hours and 40 minutes but that's not nearly enough time to do what is essentially five movies. So just as you start to get used to a set of characters and a particular tone, it changes. Thankfully 3 of the 5 segments are directed by the same person, so that helps bring a sense of continuity. And Debbie Reynolds is in enough of the segments to create a connection between them. The rest of it is filled out with a ridiculous amount of stars, including the two craziest voices of the era: John Wayne and Jimmy Stewart. If they had a scene together I would have been giddy with excitement but they sadly did not. But even with all of that, overall it's more of a spectacle than anything else. Which is fine I guess, and considering the other drivel from this year I can't really get too upset about it either. In fact, watching it was downright pleasant as compared to some other things.
Well that was tame of me...and we'll keep it tame with Lilies of the Field. I didn't think this movie was particularly good but it also wasn't overtly terrible. And it was a MERCIFUL hour-and-a-half long. After two 3-hour movies and a 4-hour movie I'm so glad this was normal length. Sidney Poitier earned an Academy Award for his performance in this film, which is kind of unfortunate. And I will tell you exactly why. He gave a lot of powerful performances in his career that were quite realistically a big part of the Civil Rights movement of the time. He showed us that not only could a black man act, he could do it better than the vast majority of his peers. And they gave him an award for playing what was essentially the "happy negro." Not trying to stir up controversy, that's literally the only phrase to describe his character within the context. You've got lots of happy negro banjo music going while the somewhat-bumbling-but-good-natured friendly black guy comes across some Nuns who are in need of assistance. They believe that God has sent him to help them. Because he needed some gas for his car and I guess if Jesus didn't want him to stop there then He wouldn't have made Sidney waste all that gas on late-night White Castle runs. And I guess the various other people who probably stop for gas there on a daily basis weren't sent by God and were only there to pump the gas and be on their way. I personally think the nuns were hoping that Mr. Poitier wanted a little cream with his coffee but that's just me. For the relatively short length of the film, it has a remarkably small amount of variety. Sidney teaches the nuns how to sing a down-home Southern song, he helps build a bit of their church, some almost-interesting religious conversation takes place...rinse and repeat. You could call the film charming but it's just so repetitive that it only could have functioned as an episode of Gunsmoke or something. Which is why it baffles me that it was a book. Either they cut out 90% of the story or they were using the term "book" loosely. Either way, Mr. Poitier does do a great job but it's within a role that's not particularly interesting. Still a big victory for him and for America, but I wish it would have come in a different form.
And this brings me to this year's winner, which is the non-hyperbolic worst Best Picture of all time (so far) Tom Jones. When I first saw the title I thought it was a biography of the singer. Not only would I say that a biography of the singer would be better, I would also say that 2 hours of just Tom Jones singing would be both more enjoyable than the film and better as a movie. Even if the camera never moved and it didn't cut out Tom stopping for a sip of water, ad-libbing goofy jokes with the audience, and whatever sub-par comedian half-time show he might have. This movie is actually based on a bawdy-for-its-time book from the 1800s about a dude trying to achieve some upward mobility in society. Wow. What a brilliant plot. Throwing in obscure references to sex doesn't make that interesting. And that's apparently the biggest draw that the film had. Obscure references to sex. And either they were SO obscure that I didn't notice them, or 3 was a big number of innuendos for 1963. Because I didn't think it was bawdy in even an "old timey" way. Cleopatra was filled to the brim with stupid innuendos such as "oh yes well you will have to give me a tour of your palace sometime princess." HA! Get it? He wasn't talking about the building! Unless that building was a brick house! OH SNAP. Boy that's Oscar-worthy dialogue. Of course, I could be entirely wrong about the source material and maybe the original novel about the mobility upward-er was meant to be taken somewhat seriously and was considered controversial but not because that was the author's intention. If that's the case then I hope the author's descendents weren't around to see his work turned into a really terrible Marx brothers film. Imagine the tone of a Marx brothers movie without any of the brilliance and that's basically this movie. The first five minutes are done as a silent film. Why? Just cuz. I tried to think of possibly artistic reasons but I couldn't come up with any. The fourth wall would occasionally be broken to say things that are only entertaining because they're being said to the audience. And at one point the main character hangs his hat over the camera, presumably just to do it. They're basically adopting a (maybe) farcical work of literature by making a farce of a farce. And that doesn't really work. Because if you're saying that farces are stupid then that means real period-piece drama isn't, which means you're not making the movie you respect and are instead making the thing you're making fun of. Something that complicated should be clever, but it's not. Because I just came up with that. I'm clever. They're dumb. Terrible movie. Doesn't know what it is. Isn't funny. Isn't bawdy. Isn't interesting. And yet it won the year after one of the greatest Best Picture winners/films in general of all time. No justice in the world I tell you. But I suppose that since the modern day equivalent would have been giving the Oscar to The Hangover for having the audacity to show a scrawny Asian man's penis then maybe the Academy has learned something after all. Although it did win the Golden Globe for comedy...
Well there you have it, quite a boring year overall. And a freaking long one. Holy crap. Even though 2 of the films were normal-sized, this year had a grand total of something like 12 hours of movie. I've already seen every 1962 movie, and it's been that way for some time because its nominees are considered things that people should watch. Instead of things people should watch if they're crazy and feel like watching every Oscar nominee. There's another crazy long movie in 1962 but it's actually good so you don't notice that it takes up a sizable chunk of your life. Aside from that seminal classic you can also expect such things as friendly albinos, scary Tahitians, and cheery Gary, Indianans. It's a verifiable who's who of ridiculous movie characters.
1964: The Year that a Spoonful of Sugar Prevented Fighting in the War Room
I literally came up with that title like a year ago. It's a miracle I remembered it at all, since I have the rather unfortunate tendency to forget a lot of my best ideas. Anyway, before I begin I'd like to give a special shout-out to Smallville which finished up its record-setting (for a North American sci-fi show) 218th episode/series finale. And it was A-MAZING. That's why you stick with things that have shown you promise in the past, because this show broke every TV rule in the book by having its 4 best seasons after it had jumped the shark. Got to tip your hat to that. I will certainly miss it as it was one of my main shows for many years and as I previously wrote, its depiction of Lex Luthor is one of my favorite villain stories of all time. And they gave him a proper send-off in the finale which I was thankful for. To segue this (sort of): it was a show with a lot of melodrama and unabashedly hokey stuff. And that's why it worked. It was very much meant to evoke that child-like wonder you first felt when you saw Superman as a kid. It was done with this tone deliberately and that's why it worked so well. This is why I always say with these Oscar nominees that you can make basically anything work if you know what it is and play to its strengths. Hokey can work! But you have to do it correctly. And this was a better year than most, especially since it contains one of my favorite movies of all time.
One of these days I'll be able to say that and then immediately mention the film, but the alphabet instead demands we first talk about Becket. Not a bad movie by any means. Unlike a lot of stage adaptations, it manages to have a larger scope in terms of sets, locations, and characters. It's not three people in a room for two and a half hours. It's a classic "friends become adversaries who still kind of care for each other" story. Is that accurate to the actual relationship between Thomas Becket and King Henry II? Apparently it is fairly accurate. Do I really care? Not in the least. I don't care as much about the accuracy of British historical films because A) a lot of them took place so long ago that it's tough to tell what was true and what wasn't anyway and B) I don't know as much about British history and so nothing sticks out. You've got people saying that the two men were lovers, people saying that they never liked each other at all, etc. So if "historians" have opinions that are so different, then I say that whatever works best in an artistic way is fine by me. As long as Becket still dies in the end in a church, which is indisputable fact, then I'm good to go. This movie does a good job of separating itself into parts. It goes from the two men being drinking buddies who cause trouble throughout the countryside and transitions into a movie about political/religious strife. It avoids being too jargon-y and makes it a very personal story about two men at odds with each other. The way I always view these types of stories is that the only reason the loyal friend is so loyal is because he's beneath the powerful douche. Side note: "Beneath the Powerful Douche" would be a great title for an Alternative Rock band I think, or obscure poetry. As soon as Henry gives him some power, Becket doesn't feel like putting up with his antics anymore. The thing I love about this time period is that all of the "religious" stuff was mostly a guise to cover up political machinations and personal grudges. Even with all of that awesome stuff, it wouldn't work without the excellent casting of Richard Burton and Peter O'Toole as Becket and Henry, respectfully. It's still a little bit too l0ng, since a lot of play adaptations try not to eliminate too much from the stage version and thus forget that they don't have an intermission, but it fills its time with better things than most movies of its type.
A movie that may well be the only one of its type, and certainly one of my favorites, is Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. First off: any movie that includes the word "or" in its title is already awesome. Because it's like the movie doesn't know how to describe itself and thus gives you an overdone and frank description of its own satire. It'd be like if the 2006 winner was called: "The Departed or: How I Learned to Solve Plot Conflicts and Kill Everyone in the Final Act." But modern audiences wouldn't get it. In fact, I talk to many people who don't understand why Stanley Kubrick's incredible anti-war dark (dark dark dark) comedy is so good. Something to remember is: it is intentionally paced very slowly. It's about Doomsday for all intents and purposes. And it was made during a time when people legit thought Doomsday was about to happen at any moment. So Kubrick makes a movie about The Cold War reaching its worst possible outcome (nuclear annihilation) and how do the protagonists respond? With bureaucracy! And red tape! How freaking brilliant is that? Because it's probably not far from the truth. If the world was falling apart most recent presidents would probably be looking at how it would affect their poll numbers for re-election. So by keeping the tone very mundane, it illustrates the lunacy of bureaucratic goings-on. My absolute favorite scene is when the president calls the President of the Soviet Union and their conversation mostly consists of: "yes I'm doing well. How are you? Oh that's good, I'm glad we are both doing well!" Their countries are about to destroy the Earth and they're making small talk! Love it. There are also a lot of subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) sexual jokes/references/imagery. All of this is meant to evoke the idea that The Cold War was basically one big...erm..."missile measuring" contest. Which is pretty much EXACTLY WHAT IT WAS. When you think about it. I could go on and on, one could write a book analyzing the movie really, but I'll just point out that Peter Sellers outdoes even himself in this. He plays three distinctly different roles and he is BRILLIANT. That man needed the Oscar. He was nominated anyway, but he was beaten out by a British guy singing. Because that had never been done before. Sadly I think both the film and the performance were too "out there" for 1964 but it has since been remembered by film buffs as the masterpiece that it is, and I've learned on this escapade that the opinions of the everyday film buff are more important than the Academy anyway.
A completely different movie, in every way a movie can be different, is Mary Poppins. Remember how I mentioned that a movie can set out to be charming and a little hokey and still be really good? This film does exactly that. Unless I'm mistaken, this was one of those movies that I watched about a million times as a kid. Which of course makes me wary to watch it again as an adult because it always runs the risk of being crap. Then when it is my childhood dies little by little. Thankfully when I did watch this again it was every bit as enchanting and wonderful an experience as when I was a kid, if not more so. Making my remaining childhood strongholds: Mary Poppins, Batman the Animated Series, and mint chocolate chip ice cream. One thing I love about the movie is that it's not meant to be taken seriously, as we see from the opening scene of Julie Andrews on a cloud. This means that if you have dancing chimney sweeps, it fits. And if you have a song about nothing, it involves people floating or dancing cartoon penguins. The children in the movie are being enchanted by Mary Poppins and that's the point of the movie. Therefore, scenes are meant to be enchanting to the audience as well and that still manages to make sense within the narrative. See how that's better than big dancing scenes for no reason when you're also trying to have a narrative about something else? It also establishes right from the beginning that everything is steeped in the imagination. So when they jump into sidewalk chalk and everything becomes animated it makes sense. Well, it doesn't make sense but you buy it without wondering what might have been slipped into your mint chocolate chip ice cream. There are also some plot points that are actually a bit somber...but they're kind of pushed into the background. When you're a kid you just ignore everything that's not the singing so you don't really notice. Just like how when you're a teenager you ignore everything that's not boobs or explosions (or "boobsplosions" as we deemed them in pop culture class). In this way, some aspects of the movie hit upon the same points as Life is Beautiful and it's just as much about embracing your childhood as it is about growing up. Plus there are cartoon penguins in it. That is awesome.
The flaw in the plan for this year is Zorba the Greek. It's pretty much the Ben Affleck in a year that was Shakespeare in Love quality. I literally can't think of anything to say about it that is positive. Like, at all. In fact, I read that no one would buy the movie when it was first looking for distributors. Probably because it's terrible. And it was the first movie I watched after my ill-fated job training so I paid more attention than I would have otherwise because I was happy to be doing anything that wasn't sitting in traffic or waking up at 4:30. It's pretty much one of those feel-good movies about how "everything sucks but life is still great for some reason!" I was imagining that as spoken by Tracy Jordan by the way, that might help with the sarcasm. There really needs to be a sarcasm font. Because you can have a movie about how everything sucks and still illustrate that there is beauty in life, but this doesn't do it at all. At one point a woman is pretty much lynched and no one seems to notice that it happened! She died! Her throat was cut! No movie that involves a woman being lynched and sliced should end with two dudes dancing on a beach. And there's a log delivery system that breaks and some widows that get wooed or something and a bunch of other stuff no one cares about. For like two and a half hours. The original cut was about 3 hours long! It barely has enough story in it to fill up a CSI episode where they try to solve a case of a female lynching. People are getting stoned (not like on drugs, like in the Bible), kids are committing suicide, but I guess life is good because a strange Greek man who chews the scenery says so. And black and white doesn't suit everything...it has the ability to make the dull duller. It also makes the intense intenser but only where that applies (also the grammar less grammar-y). So yeah it was one of those that would have caused me to take a break from my quest, but thankfully I had come off of a break so I had the mojo to go on (somehow).
This year's winner is a good example of a not-dark musical I actually like: My Fair Lady. Major credit to Audrey Hepburn for actually making her character unappealing at the beginning. It takes some serious acting prowess because she is ADORABLE. Literally gorgeous in a Pam Beesly kind of way where you just want to marry her because her adorable-ness makes you feel better about life. But as soon as she opens her mouth in this movie you just go "wowwwwwwwww I wanna die." She makes it endearing though because the cockney accent is deliberately exaggerated. The person who I really needed to adjust to was Rex Harrison, not because his performance was bad (although it wasn't better than Peter Sellers', just saying) but because Seth MacFarlane based Stewie off of Harrison's character in this movie. So I kept expecting him to say "what the deuce?" and "victory is mine!" But once I got past that I enjoyed his performance. I found the film to be overall very enchanting but I think the first half before the intermission is a complete movie in and of itself. She already becomes a more "proper lady" by the time it's intermission. So then the last half of the movie isn't really about anything. I mean, it is but it's mostly just creating canned drama while it marches toward the inevitable romance between the main characters. I did really like how we never see the romance and it's mostly implied, because that way it gives you one really nice moment instead of a lot of sappy ones. At the same time, there's wayyyyyyyyy too much buildup for just that one moment. I think they should have waited until near the end for her to become a "proper lady" and then had about 10 minutes of canned drama followed by the nice moment. It was still a really good movie with some great (not pointless) songs. It also featured a revolutionary wireless microphone for Rex Harrison who refused to lip sync his songs. That's something you don't think about much but it's HUGE for the industry today. Very impressive.
Well aside from that one mishap, this was a pretty great year overall. Oddly enough I'm already finished with 1962 but due to my OCD I still have to finish 1963 (obviously). And that might take a while because there are like six movies' worth of running time. Seriously. Some crazy long movies. All I can say for now is that it will include a Western that's way too long, a period melodrama that's way too long, and a movie that's an hour and a half and is still too long.
One of these days I'll be able to say that and then immediately mention the film, but the alphabet instead demands we first talk about Becket. Not a bad movie by any means. Unlike a lot of stage adaptations, it manages to have a larger scope in terms of sets, locations, and characters. It's not three people in a room for two and a half hours. It's a classic "friends become adversaries who still kind of care for each other" story. Is that accurate to the actual relationship between Thomas Becket and King Henry II? Apparently it is fairly accurate. Do I really care? Not in the least. I don't care as much about the accuracy of British historical films because A) a lot of them took place so long ago that it's tough to tell what was true and what wasn't anyway and B) I don't know as much about British history and so nothing sticks out. You've got people saying that the two men were lovers, people saying that they never liked each other at all, etc. So if "historians" have opinions that are so different, then I say that whatever works best in an artistic way is fine by me. As long as Becket still dies in the end in a church, which is indisputable fact, then I'm good to go. This movie does a good job of separating itself into parts. It goes from the two men being drinking buddies who cause trouble throughout the countryside and transitions into a movie about political/religious strife. It avoids being too jargon-y and makes it a very personal story about two men at odds with each other. The way I always view these types of stories is that the only reason the loyal friend is so loyal is because he's beneath the powerful douche. Side note: "Beneath the Powerful Douche" would be a great title for an Alternative Rock band I think, or obscure poetry. As soon as Henry gives him some power, Becket doesn't feel like putting up with his antics anymore. The thing I love about this time period is that all of the "religious" stuff was mostly a guise to cover up political machinations and personal grudges. Even with all of that awesome stuff, it wouldn't work without the excellent casting of Richard Burton and Peter O'Toole as Becket and Henry, respectfully. It's still a little bit too l0ng, since a lot of play adaptations try not to eliminate too much from the stage version and thus forget that they don't have an intermission, but it fills its time with better things than most movies of its type.
A movie that may well be the only one of its type, and certainly one of my favorites, is Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. First off: any movie that includes the word "or" in its title is already awesome. Because it's like the movie doesn't know how to describe itself and thus gives you an overdone and frank description of its own satire. It'd be like if the 2006 winner was called: "The Departed or: How I Learned to Solve Plot Conflicts and Kill Everyone in the Final Act." But modern audiences wouldn't get it. In fact, I talk to many people who don't understand why Stanley Kubrick's incredible anti-war dark (dark dark dark) comedy is so good. Something to remember is: it is intentionally paced very slowly. It's about Doomsday for all intents and purposes. And it was made during a time when people legit thought Doomsday was about to happen at any moment. So Kubrick makes a movie about The Cold War reaching its worst possible outcome (nuclear annihilation) and how do the protagonists respond? With bureaucracy! And red tape! How freaking brilliant is that? Because it's probably not far from the truth. If the world was falling apart most recent presidents would probably be looking at how it would affect their poll numbers for re-election. So by keeping the tone very mundane, it illustrates the lunacy of bureaucratic goings-on. My absolute favorite scene is when the president calls the President of the Soviet Union and their conversation mostly consists of: "yes I'm doing well. How are you? Oh that's good, I'm glad we are both doing well!" Their countries are about to destroy the Earth and they're making small talk! Love it. There are also a lot of subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) sexual jokes/references/imagery. All of this is meant to evoke the idea that The Cold War was basically one big...erm..."missile measuring" contest. Which is pretty much EXACTLY WHAT IT WAS. When you think about it. I could go on and on, one could write a book analyzing the movie really, but I'll just point out that Peter Sellers outdoes even himself in this. He plays three distinctly different roles and he is BRILLIANT. That man needed the Oscar. He was nominated anyway, but he was beaten out by a British guy singing. Because that had never been done before. Sadly I think both the film and the performance were too "out there" for 1964 but it has since been remembered by film buffs as the masterpiece that it is, and I've learned on this escapade that the opinions of the everyday film buff are more important than the Academy anyway.
A completely different movie, in every way a movie can be different, is Mary Poppins. Remember how I mentioned that a movie can set out to be charming and a little hokey and still be really good? This film does exactly that. Unless I'm mistaken, this was one of those movies that I watched about a million times as a kid. Which of course makes me wary to watch it again as an adult because it always runs the risk of being crap. Then when it is my childhood dies little by little. Thankfully when I did watch this again it was every bit as enchanting and wonderful an experience as when I was a kid, if not more so. Making my remaining childhood strongholds: Mary Poppins, Batman the Animated Series, and mint chocolate chip ice cream. One thing I love about the movie is that it's not meant to be taken seriously, as we see from the opening scene of Julie Andrews on a cloud. This means that if you have dancing chimney sweeps, it fits. And if you have a song about nothing, it involves people floating or dancing cartoon penguins. The children in the movie are being enchanted by Mary Poppins and that's the point of the movie. Therefore, scenes are meant to be enchanting to the audience as well and that still manages to make sense within the narrative. See how that's better than big dancing scenes for no reason when you're also trying to have a narrative about something else? It also establishes right from the beginning that everything is steeped in the imagination. So when they jump into sidewalk chalk and everything becomes animated it makes sense. Well, it doesn't make sense but you buy it without wondering what might have been slipped into your mint chocolate chip ice cream. There are also some plot points that are actually a bit somber...but they're kind of pushed into the background. When you're a kid you just ignore everything that's not the singing so you don't really notice. Just like how when you're a teenager you ignore everything that's not boobs or explosions (or "boobsplosions" as we deemed them in pop culture class). In this way, some aspects of the movie hit upon the same points as Life is Beautiful and it's just as much about embracing your childhood as it is about growing up. Plus there are cartoon penguins in it. That is awesome.
The flaw in the plan for this year is Zorba the Greek. It's pretty much the Ben Affleck in a year that was Shakespeare in Love quality. I literally can't think of anything to say about it that is positive. Like, at all. In fact, I read that no one would buy the movie when it was first looking for distributors. Probably because it's terrible. And it was the first movie I watched after my ill-fated job training so I paid more attention than I would have otherwise because I was happy to be doing anything that wasn't sitting in traffic or waking up at 4:30. It's pretty much one of those feel-good movies about how "everything sucks but life is still great for some reason!" I was imagining that as spoken by Tracy Jordan by the way, that might help with the sarcasm. There really needs to be a sarcasm font. Because you can have a movie about how everything sucks and still illustrate that there is beauty in life, but this doesn't do it at all. At one point a woman is pretty much lynched and no one seems to notice that it happened! She died! Her throat was cut! No movie that involves a woman being lynched and sliced should end with two dudes dancing on a beach. And there's a log delivery system that breaks and some widows that get wooed or something and a bunch of other stuff no one cares about. For like two and a half hours. The original cut was about 3 hours long! It barely has enough story in it to fill up a CSI episode where they try to solve a case of a female lynching. People are getting stoned (not like on drugs, like in the Bible), kids are committing suicide, but I guess life is good because a strange Greek man who chews the scenery says so. And black and white doesn't suit everything...it has the ability to make the dull duller. It also makes the intense intenser but only where that applies (also the grammar less grammar-y). So yeah it was one of those that would have caused me to take a break from my quest, but thankfully I had come off of a break so I had the mojo to go on (somehow).
This year's winner is a good example of a not-dark musical I actually like: My Fair Lady. Major credit to Audrey Hepburn for actually making her character unappealing at the beginning. It takes some serious acting prowess because she is ADORABLE. Literally gorgeous in a Pam Beesly kind of way where you just want to marry her because her adorable-ness makes you feel better about life. But as soon as she opens her mouth in this movie you just go "wowwwwwwwww I wanna die." She makes it endearing though because the cockney accent is deliberately exaggerated. The person who I really needed to adjust to was Rex Harrison, not because his performance was bad (although it wasn't better than Peter Sellers', just saying) but because Seth MacFarlane based Stewie off of Harrison's character in this movie. So I kept expecting him to say "what the deuce?" and "victory is mine!" But once I got past that I enjoyed his performance. I found the film to be overall very enchanting but I think the first half before the intermission is a complete movie in and of itself. She already becomes a more "proper lady" by the time it's intermission. So then the last half of the movie isn't really about anything. I mean, it is but it's mostly just creating canned drama while it marches toward the inevitable romance between the main characters. I did really like how we never see the romance and it's mostly implied, because that way it gives you one really nice moment instead of a lot of sappy ones. At the same time, there's wayyyyyyyyy too much buildup for just that one moment. I think they should have waited until near the end for her to become a "proper lady" and then had about 10 minutes of canned drama followed by the nice moment. It was still a really good movie with some great (not pointless) songs. It also featured a revolutionary wireless microphone for Rex Harrison who refused to lip sync his songs. That's something you don't think about much but it's HUGE for the industry today. Very impressive.
Well aside from that one mishap, this was a pretty great year overall. Oddly enough I'm already finished with 1962 but due to my OCD I still have to finish 1963 (obviously). And that might take a while because there are like six movies' worth of running time. Seriously. Some crazy long movies. All I can say for now is that it will include a Western that's way too long, a period melodrama that's way too long, and a movie that's an hour and a half and is still too long.
Friday, May 6, 2011
1965: The Year that the Hills were Alive with the Sound of Anti-Semitism
This was the year that took me longer to write than any other (I think). Due to several contributing factors: 1) my ill-fated job training that ended up being less Sterling/Cooper and more Laurel/Hardy and 2) the fact that one of these movies isn't really available, one is only available in full screen from Netflix, and another one was on Netflix Instant but I couldn't access it on my PS3 because Playstation got hacked! Well the universe might want to discontinue my escapade but to that I will respond with a half-assed "well then give me something else to do." Take that cosmos. I don't even know if you're supposed to capitalize cosmos, and I don't care. But enough about my war on reality, this year has two mostly outstanding films, two meh, and one TBD that's off to a not terrible start.
We begin with yet another British comedy that I don't quite get: Darling. It's apparently supposed to be making fun of uppity British society but it does this by...showing uppity British society. It didn't seem too caricatured to me. Although maybe that's because every representation of British "high society" in the media is a caricature. Another thing that kind of baffled me was the casting of Julie Christie. Let me explain why: I don't find Julie Christie particularly appealing. I'll talk more about that in the next paragraph too. But for the purposes of discussing this film, it's relevant because it affects what may or may not be funny within the film. The plot concerns a woman who basically sleeps her way to the top of society and leaving a trail of broken marriages in her wake (not to mention STDs). Now, if Julie Christie was seen as someone who was fairly good looking but more known for her acting prowess than anything else (like, say...Hilary Swank maybe?) then that's pretty funny. Because it would show that high society is such an amoral quagmire (giggity) that people within it are aching to be terrible to such an extent that they'll cheat on their wives just to cheat. BUT if Julie Christie is supposed to be a total hottie (which I think was probably the intent) then A) I disagree with this assessment of physical beauty and B) that doesn't make it a satire it just makes it...true. And that sounds terribly cynical to say, even for me, but I mean come on. How is it funny to show an attractive woman seducing men all the way to the top of society? That happens wayyyyyyyyy too much! If she wasn't that attractive it'd be funny but instead it's just frustrating. She ends up trapped in a life she doesn't want with a husband she doesn't love, but who cares? It's an appropriate comeuppance for her and it makes me wonder how much of Alfie was the male version of this movie. And if the whole thing was supposed to be a drama then that would have made more sense. But nooooooooooo it just had to be a "dramedy." I frigging hate dramedies. They're not dramatic and they're not funny. I like dark comedies with a serious edge to them like The Big Lebowski and I like serious dramas with funny moments like The Sopranos. But dramedies are just tonally bi-curious. But then again, this could very well be one of those instances where I simply can't understand the sense of humor because I grew up in a different time. But then again again, there are plenty of comedies from the 60s that I find hilarious and brilliant. So maybe it's just meh.
Now let's do an almost complete 180 and talk about Doctor Zhivago. I was a little worried about watching this movie because it's one of my mom's favorites. I mean like, favorite favorite. Seriously. The equivalent for me would be if Quentin Tarantino made a movie starring Natalie Portman that was scored by John Williams. Well that's maybe a little overboard but since she's been telling me about it since I was a kid, if you adjust her opinion on it for inflation then my comparison is accurate. Plus I'm a fan of David Lean's other films and I think Lara's Theme is one of the most beautiful love themes ever written. My verdict is this: (and pay attention) I liked a normal-sized movie's amount of it but not the whole thing. Because it's about 3 hours and 20 minutes long and I liked about 2 and 1/2 hours' worth. And what I liked I really liked. The cinematography is just as gorgeous as one would expect from a David Lean film and it has one of those "happy/tragic/powerful" endings which I happen to love. The music, as I said, is fantastic. But oddly enough this fact led to one of my issues with the movie. I've listened to Lara's Theme a TON of times because it's on a compilation "Epics" CD that I have. After listening to it so many times I always envisioned Lara as pretty much the most beautiful and exotic woman of all time. Using only recognizable examples of the time, in my mind she would've been some kind of Rita Hayworth/Elizabeth Taylor/Grace Kelly hybrid with the wit of a female Marx brother and the badass-ery of Emma Peel (also her looks too, just pointing that out). So in other words: the piece of music is so beautiful that no human being born within the confines of nature could live up to it. But there were those who could have come closer than Julie Christie. Just saying. On one hand you've got Omar Sharif who was like the foreign Clark Gable and he's playing a doctor who goes and saves people whilst risking his life during the Russian Revolution. He was like the ultimate man. And his love interest is...some married lady that doesn't talk much that he met one time when she was sick. Once their romance actually strikes up I totally buy it, and like I said I thought most of the movie was excellent, but it takes a little too much time for them to meet and it spends a bit too much time on her and not enough on him in the beginning. But it's still a fantastic movie and I think that if I watched it a second time I'd like it even more because that's what always happens with films that I have only one or two qualms with.
If only I had even one or two nice things to say about Ship of Fools. Right off the bat you already don't want to watch it. It's pretty much saying: "this is a two-and-a-half hour film about people who are stupid and probably ignorant and probably not likable." Well, at least they were honest. I get that it's supposed to be a microcosm of pre-WWII society but I got that in the first 10 minutes. Then they just kept reinforcing that point again and again. And as if it wasn't "on the nose" enough already, the film begins with a midget talking to the camera and saying (mercifully paraphrased) "this ship is full of bigots. Look closely enough and you might see...yourself." Oh man! I bet you could hear that 1965 scream from the KKK all the way in the 21st Century as they felt their worldview collapse around them. That bit that I italicized was the actual last part of the aside to the audience. He gives a reprise of it at the end of the film which went something like, "if you're still in the theater then I hope you're appropriately ashamed for your feelings toward the Jews." And I'm thinking to myself: if there's a movie that's described as a representation of anti-semitism in the 30s then why would anyone be going to see it besides people who are already anti-anti-semites? Because all that happens is you sit there and you nod and agree and say, "yes the Germans did bad things." It doesn't really tell a story, or not a very good story anyway. It's just reaffirming an opinion you more than likely already share and reinforce it with some truly hambone acting. Plus I had to pay money to rent it off of iTunes because Netflix only had the fullscreen so that was an added frustration. Because no matter how much I am expecting to dislike something, it must always be viewed in its appropriate full glory. Or you know...full whatever.
An unusually good film that is formerly TBD is A Thousand Clowns. From the plot description I thought it was going to be pretty boring. It's basically about an unemployed guy who lives with his 12-year-old nephew and he's going to lose custody of his nephew unless he gets a job. And it's based on a stage play so I didn't expect anything too interesting besides maybe some good dialogue and hopefully good acting. Instead, this is a really good example of how you can take something from the stage and translate it into a movie very effectively. It has its moments where a scene goes on a little too long, especially near the middle where the social workers inspecting his apartment seem to stay forever. But it also has a lot of really interesting techniques that I frankly did not expect from a movie of its type or its time. Mostly in the way it's edited. It occasionally cuts unexpectedly or has jolting montages of city life and is often scored with classic American marches. The beginning of the film portrays people going to work to basically a death march and then when the title comes up in front of a crowd of workers, you instantly understand its meaning without the film completely shoving it in your face. And then when you see a bunch of chubby people downing hot dogs and ice cream on the streets of New York City while Sousa's "Stars and Stripes Forever" plays, you think to yourself: is this America? What if this is as good as it gets? (cross-film shout-out!) The great thing about the film is that it's not necessarily saying "look at how terrible we've become" it's more saying "look at how terrible the main character thinks we've become." It's showing you the world through his eyes and asking you to sympathize with his opinion that jobs are for clowns. This was a pretty gutsy thing to be saying right in the midst of the "if I don't work then my life is worthless" mentality of the mid-20th century. And here also is a film that knows it's a dark satire with some touching moments and an overall heartwarming story as well. See? It can be done! So no excuses from the Brits. I had to download it illegally though, because it's not available anywhere and they aren't showing it on TCM anytime soon. And the sole upshot of no longer having to worry about security type issues is that I...no longer have to worry about security type issues. So there's that.
And now we are brought at last to one of the most well-known classic films of all time: The Sound of Music. Don't worry, I love the movie. I won't be ripping on it. Except a little bit because I'm me. But to begin with: love the music. And why? Because not only is it well-orchestrated and well-sung, the songs are ABOUT SOMETHING. I think only once or twice were they singing just to sing, but since the kids were traveling singers it made sense. The movie also earns its length for the most part and doesn't waste any scenes with needless exposition. I will say that a large part of it is atmospheric in that the scenes are there to set a tone and not necessarily advance the plot, but those scenes are also enjoyable so it's okay. I also really like how it's set against a very serious backdrop but it balances it very well. You have to give props to anyone who can write a family friendly movie about resisting the Nazis that doesn't come off as hokey to adults. The sole issue I had is that I think there were one too many close calls with running away from the S.S. at the end. It took away from the tension a little bit. But then the last scene is fantastic and if only 2 of 174 minutes are meh then that's not bad at all. Everything else about it is top notch. The writing is sharp without being too contrived and the filmmaking is grand without being unnecessary. Plus it is well-cast from Julie Andrews all the way down to the youngest kid. On that note: here's an example of things I experience when watching stuff. As I was watching, I was thinking the oldest daughter was pretty hot. But then she sings her whole "I am 16 going on 17" piece and I felt creepy. But then I looked her up on IMDb and saw that she was actually 22 at the time of filming so I felt better. Then I realized that now she's like 74 so it was kind of a moot point anyway, and then I felt creepy again for liking an old lady. And that's what it's like to be me.
Well it feels good to be back on the quest. My next entries should be coming up pretty quickly because I got way caught up on other years as I put off watching/finding some of the scarcer choices for this year. I only have 1 left to watch for 1964, so that should be coming up soon. It has some actually good things in it for once so that's very exciting. And some good rant-y material too which is also exciting. All I can say for now is that it will contain the inspiration for Stewie, the possible ancestor of my dentist, and an enemy so evil that they're trying to steal all of your precious bodily fluids.
We begin with yet another British comedy that I don't quite get: Darling. It's apparently supposed to be making fun of uppity British society but it does this by...showing uppity British society. It didn't seem too caricatured to me. Although maybe that's because every representation of British "high society" in the media is a caricature. Another thing that kind of baffled me was the casting of Julie Christie. Let me explain why: I don't find Julie Christie particularly appealing. I'll talk more about that in the next paragraph too. But for the purposes of discussing this film, it's relevant because it affects what may or may not be funny within the film. The plot concerns a woman who basically sleeps her way to the top of society and leaving a trail of broken marriages in her wake (not to mention STDs). Now, if Julie Christie was seen as someone who was fairly good looking but more known for her acting prowess than anything else (like, say...Hilary Swank maybe?) then that's pretty funny. Because it would show that high society is such an amoral quagmire (giggity) that people within it are aching to be terrible to such an extent that they'll cheat on their wives just to cheat. BUT if Julie Christie is supposed to be a total hottie (which I think was probably the intent) then A) I disagree with this assessment of physical beauty and B) that doesn't make it a satire it just makes it...true. And that sounds terribly cynical to say, even for me, but I mean come on. How is it funny to show an attractive woman seducing men all the way to the top of society? That happens wayyyyyyyyy too much! If she wasn't that attractive it'd be funny but instead it's just frustrating. She ends up trapped in a life she doesn't want with a husband she doesn't love, but who cares? It's an appropriate comeuppance for her and it makes me wonder how much of Alfie was the male version of this movie. And if the whole thing was supposed to be a drama then that would have made more sense. But nooooooooooo it just had to be a "dramedy." I frigging hate dramedies. They're not dramatic and they're not funny. I like dark comedies with a serious edge to them like The Big Lebowski and I like serious dramas with funny moments like The Sopranos. But dramedies are just tonally bi-curious. But then again, this could very well be one of those instances where I simply can't understand the sense of humor because I grew up in a different time. But then again again, there are plenty of comedies from the 60s that I find hilarious and brilliant. So maybe it's just meh.
Now let's do an almost complete 180 and talk about Doctor Zhivago. I was a little worried about watching this movie because it's one of my mom's favorites. I mean like, favorite favorite. Seriously. The equivalent for me would be if Quentin Tarantino made a movie starring Natalie Portman that was scored by John Williams. Well that's maybe a little overboard but since she's been telling me about it since I was a kid, if you adjust her opinion on it for inflation then my comparison is accurate. Plus I'm a fan of David Lean's other films and I think Lara's Theme is one of the most beautiful love themes ever written. My verdict is this: (and pay attention) I liked a normal-sized movie's amount of it but not the whole thing. Because it's about 3 hours and 20 minutes long and I liked about 2 and 1/2 hours' worth. And what I liked I really liked. The cinematography is just as gorgeous as one would expect from a David Lean film and it has one of those "happy/tragic/powerful" endings which I happen to love. The music, as I said, is fantastic. But oddly enough this fact led to one of my issues with the movie. I've listened to Lara's Theme a TON of times because it's on a compilation "Epics" CD that I have. After listening to it so many times I always envisioned Lara as pretty much the most beautiful and exotic woman of all time. Using only recognizable examples of the time, in my mind she would've been some kind of Rita Hayworth/Elizabeth Taylor/Grace Kelly hybrid with the wit of a female Marx brother and the badass-ery of Emma Peel (also her looks too, just pointing that out). So in other words: the piece of music is so beautiful that no human being born within the confines of nature could live up to it. But there were those who could have come closer than Julie Christie. Just saying. On one hand you've got Omar Sharif who was like the foreign Clark Gable and he's playing a doctor who goes and saves people whilst risking his life during the Russian Revolution. He was like the ultimate man. And his love interest is...some married lady that doesn't talk much that he met one time when she was sick. Once their romance actually strikes up I totally buy it, and like I said I thought most of the movie was excellent, but it takes a little too much time for them to meet and it spends a bit too much time on her and not enough on him in the beginning. But it's still a fantastic movie and I think that if I watched it a second time I'd like it even more because that's what always happens with films that I have only one or two qualms with.
If only I had even one or two nice things to say about Ship of Fools. Right off the bat you already don't want to watch it. It's pretty much saying: "this is a two-and-a-half hour film about people who are stupid and probably ignorant and probably not likable." Well, at least they were honest. I get that it's supposed to be a microcosm of pre-WWII society but I got that in the first 10 minutes. Then they just kept reinforcing that point again and again. And as if it wasn't "on the nose" enough already, the film begins with a midget talking to the camera and saying (mercifully paraphrased) "this ship is full of bigots. Look closely enough and you might see...yourself." Oh man! I bet you could hear that 1965 scream from the KKK all the way in the 21st Century as they felt their worldview collapse around them. That bit that I italicized was the actual last part of the aside to the audience. He gives a reprise of it at the end of the film which went something like, "if you're still in the theater then I hope you're appropriately ashamed for your feelings toward the Jews." And I'm thinking to myself: if there's a movie that's described as a representation of anti-semitism in the 30s then why would anyone be going to see it besides people who are already anti-anti-semites? Because all that happens is you sit there and you nod and agree and say, "yes the Germans did bad things." It doesn't really tell a story, or not a very good story anyway. It's just reaffirming an opinion you more than likely already share and reinforce it with some truly hambone acting. Plus I had to pay money to rent it off of iTunes because Netflix only had the fullscreen so that was an added frustration. Because no matter how much I am expecting to dislike something, it must always be viewed in its appropriate full glory. Or you know...full whatever.
An unusually good film that is formerly TBD is A Thousand Clowns. From the plot description I thought it was going to be pretty boring. It's basically about an unemployed guy who lives with his 12-year-old nephew and he's going to lose custody of his nephew unless he gets a job. And it's based on a stage play so I didn't expect anything too interesting besides maybe some good dialogue and hopefully good acting. Instead, this is a really good example of how you can take something from the stage and translate it into a movie very effectively. It has its moments where a scene goes on a little too long, especially near the middle where the social workers inspecting his apartment seem to stay forever. But it also has a lot of really interesting techniques that I frankly did not expect from a movie of its type or its time. Mostly in the way it's edited. It occasionally cuts unexpectedly or has jolting montages of city life and is often scored with classic American marches. The beginning of the film portrays people going to work to basically a death march and then when the title comes up in front of a crowd of workers, you instantly understand its meaning without the film completely shoving it in your face. And then when you see a bunch of chubby people downing hot dogs and ice cream on the streets of New York City while Sousa's "Stars and Stripes Forever" plays, you think to yourself: is this America? What if this is as good as it gets? (cross-film shout-out!) The great thing about the film is that it's not necessarily saying "look at how terrible we've become" it's more saying "look at how terrible the main character thinks we've become." It's showing you the world through his eyes and asking you to sympathize with his opinion that jobs are for clowns. This was a pretty gutsy thing to be saying right in the midst of the "if I don't work then my life is worthless" mentality of the mid-20th century. And here also is a film that knows it's a dark satire with some touching moments and an overall heartwarming story as well. See? It can be done! So no excuses from the Brits. I had to download it illegally though, because it's not available anywhere and they aren't showing it on TCM anytime soon. And the sole upshot of no longer having to worry about security type issues is that I...no longer have to worry about security type issues. So there's that.
And now we are brought at last to one of the most well-known classic films of all time: The Sound of Music. Don't worry, I love the movie. I won't be ripping on it. Except a little bit because I'm me. But to begin with: love the music. And why? Because not only is it well-orchestrated and well-sung, the songs are ABOUT SOMETHING. I think only once or twice were they singing just to sing, but since the kids were traveling singers it made sense. The movie also earns its length for the most part and doesn't waste any scenes with needless exposition. I will say that a large part of it is atmospheric in that the scenes are there to set a tone and not necessarily advance the plot, but those scenes are also enjoyable so it's okay. I also really like how it's set against a very serious backdrop but it balances it very well. You have to give props to anyone who can write a family friendly movie about resisting the Nazis that doesn't come off as hokey to adults. The sole issue I had is that I think there were one too many close calls with running away from the S.S. at the end. It took away from the tension a little bit. But then the last scene is fantastic and if only 2 of 174 minutes are meh then that's not bad at all. Everything else about it is top notch. The writing is sharp without being too contrived and the filmmaking is grand without being unnecessary. Plus it is well-cast from Julie Andrews all the way down to the youngest kid. On that note: here's an example of things I experience when watching stuff. As I was watching, I was thinking the oldest daughter was pretty hot. But then she sings her whole "I am 16 going on 17" piece and I felt creepy. But then I looked her up on IMDb and saw that she was actually 22 at the time of filming so I felt better. Then I realized that now she's like 74 so it was kind of a moot point anyway, and then I felt creepy again for liking an old lady. And that's what it's like to be me.
Well it feels good to be back on the quest. My next entries should be coming up pretty quickly because I got way caught up on other years as I put off watching/finding some of the scarcer choices for this year. I only have 1 left to watch for 1964, so that should be coming up soon. It has some actually good things in it for once so that's very exciting. And some good rant-y material too which is also exciting. All I can say for now is that it will contain the inspiration for Stewie, the possible ancestor of my dentist, and an enemy so evil that they're trying to steal all of your precious bodily fluids.
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