THE OFFICIAL STORY (1985)

A.K.A.: La Historia Oficial

Country: Argentina

Genre(s): Drama

Director: Luis Puenzo

Cast: Norma Aleandro / Hector Alterio / Analia Castro

Plot

A conservative history teacher comes to suspect that her adopted daughter is actually the kidnapped child of a political prisoner.  Her fears force her to confront the awful truths about the crimes that the right-wing Argentine government has committed against its own people.

What I Liked

I first learned of Argentina’s Dirty War in a college course, which led to my reading “Revolutionizing Motherhood,” a book about the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, the group of women who publicly took to the streets, demanding the return of their “disappeared” children, victims of state-sponsored terrorism.  The Mothers are a constant presence in the background of “The Official Story,” a fictional account of one woman’s refusal to face the truth and the eventual price of her silent complicity.  Each time she enters the streets, she sees the Mothers and, more importantly, sees the signs emblazoned with the faces of men and women kidnapped, imprisoned, tortured, and murdered by the government.

Though the politics of Argentina in the early 1980s are the backdrop for the story, the filmmakers avoid promotion of a specific political agenda in favor of approaching the subject from a very personal angle.  This is the story of one woman’s personal quest to find out about her daughter’s origins, not one of a quest for social justice.  Instead of witnessing rebellion, warfare, or political conflict in the streets, we are brought into the safe and refined home of a loving, well-to-do family that seems to be completely insulated from the dangers of the outside world.  We meet a somewhat likable middle-aged couple and their only child, a daughter, living a protected life of privilege, enjoying the bliss of ignorance.  At work and in the streets, they are constantly confronted with questions and threats that they choose to ignore, but their home remains quiet and serene.  Of course, even this sanctuary cannot hold out forever against the infiltration of suspicion and violence.

In hindsight, as I’m writing this, I’m beginning to wonder if the family and their apartment were a metaphor for countries like the U.S., which knew of and ignored the happenings in South America at the time.  In some cases, the U.S. government (then under the Reagan administration), happy to have allies against Communism, trained the military leaders who went on to participate in widespread human rights violations throughout South America, Argentina being only the most famous example.  So maybe the film does have a political agenda as well.

Regardless, the film’s ultimate goal is to exemplify the power and necessity of truth of any kind, social or personal.  Every scene, from classroom, to home, to restaurants, to city streets, has its own spin on the dangers of ignorance and the necessity of truth.  The relationship, also, between social and personal truth is seamlessly displayed here, as the mother’s personal quest for answers about her daughter leads to her understanding the severity of the social situation around her.

What I Didn’t Like

That truth, and the fictional story the filmmakers have structured to illustrate it, is the focus of everything in the film, including the directorial style.  There is little artistic flair to be found in the film’s old style structure, a clear and admirable choice to serve the story and not the pretentions of the filmmakers.  Still, compared to most of the films I’ve reviewed thus far for this project, the visual experience of “The Official Story” just doesn’t feel special.  A movie that effectively communicates several thought-provoking concepts, ultimately feels lackluster by comparison, at least for this American viewer.

Most Memorable Scene

The destructive nature of the ignorance and lies that the couple have used to protect themselves from the truth erupts in the film’s climax when Alicia attempts a final confrontation with her husband about how their daughter came to stay with them.  A few terrible seconds follow that leave everyone, audience included, momentarily bewildered.  As the most violent moment of the film it obviously catches the eye, but it’s the quiet moments afterward, communicated through the faces and gestures of the two capable actors, that provide the film’s poignant conclusion.

My Rating: 3 out of 5

STORM OVER ASIA (1928)

A.K.A.:  Potomok Chingis-Khana

Country: U.S.S.R.

Genre(s): Adventure / Epic / Propaganda / War

Director: Vsevolod Pudovkin

Cast: Valery Inkijinoff / I. Dedintsev / Viktor Tsoppi

Plot

After inciting the ire of the English imperialists in a fur trade gone wrong, a Mongol hunter is embroiled in the politics and war with the occupiers.  When the English wrongly come to believe he is the descendant of Genghis Khan they install him as a figurehead ruler, making him a puppet in their designs for capitalist exploitation.

What I Liked

“Storm Over Asia” is a well-crafted epic of rebellion, along the lines of a silent, Soviet “Braveheart” in plot.  Telling the tale of a commoner who slowly experiences of the corruption of an occupying power first hand and comes to lead his people to freedom, the movie starts slow but builds in drama, excitement, and scope until it reaches a conclusion literally of cyclonic proportions.  Often following two related subplots at the same time, the filmmakers cleverly use editing techniques to great effect, generating a sense of suspense in several scenes that remain effective over 80 years later.

Remarkably well preserved for its age, the film has some astonishing visuals, especially when it comes to the Asian landscape.  Whether capturing the expanse of vast plains or imposing figures of towering mountains, director Vsevolod Pudovkin’s camera captures the power of the environment with a sense of grandeur on par with the Cinemascope epics of thirty and forty years later.  Luckily, good prints of this movie have survived, maintaining enough clarity to truly admire the spectacle of it all.

What I Didn’t Like

Despite the ever-mounting intensity that comes later, the first half hour of this movie is torturously slow.  Luckily this section of the film features some of the most impressive landscape photography to help ease the agony, but a silent movie that takes so long to get moving is hard to endure.  Even as the film gets going, there are several lulls in action and one annoyingly long sequence capturing a Mongolian religious ceremony that forced me to give in and fast-forward.

As one can imagine would be the case with a propaganda film from the U.S.S.R., the historical inaccuracies of the story are everywhere.  Absolutely nothing after the exposition explaining the history of Genghis Khan is factually accurate.  The English did not even occupy Mongolia during the 1917 – 1920 time period the movie purports to document, the Russians did.

Most Memorable Scene

It’s a shame that a movie that has so many outstanding qualities also has some unbearable ones.  The worst is that extended ceremony I alluded to before.  What must have been exotic and thrilling for Western audiences of the day is now laborious, made even more so by an annoyingly atonal soundtrack.

Even this scene comes with some redeeming moments, as Pudovkin intercuts the British officer’s respectful attendance of this ceremony with scenes of crimes being simultaneously being committed against the Mongolian people, namely British soldiers raiding Mongolian farms.  The filmmakers interweaving both scenes to show the hypocrisy of the invaders, reminded me of the closing to “The Godfather,” and makes me wonder if Francis Ford Coppola had seen “Storm Over Asia” before he began his own epic.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5

THE MATRIX (1999)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Action / Sci-Fi

Director: Andy Wachowski / Lana Wachowski

Cast: Keanu Reeves / Laurence Fisburne / Carrie-Ann Moss

Plot

After learning that his world is a complex virtual reality created by the machines that control the post-apocalyptic real world, computer hacker Neo joins a group of rebels who seek to free mankind.

What I Liked

It’s a tribute to just how far ahead of the curve “The Matrix” was in 1999 that its special effects still thrill after more than a dozen years and more than a dozen viewings later.  The wire fighting choreography and “bullet time” special effects were revolutionary for American filmmaking, producing a “how’d they do that?” cool factor that would have a longstanding and far-reaching influence on action filmmaking.  By combining martial arts action with a science fiction plot and effects, the filmmakers hit upon a thrilling combination that would continue to work (though never again as sensationally) for the film’s two sequels and dozens of imitators and parodies.  More importantly, those effects and stunts continue to be eye-catching and convincing all this time later.

The technical and visual stuff aside, this movie features some other elements to enjoy.  Those familiar with fantasy and science fiction will find familiar plot elements and archetypal characters lovingly copped from the popular “Star Wars” and “Terminator” franchises, along with references to “The Wizard of Oz” and “Alice in Wonderland.”  There’s also a decent soundtrack that appropriately features the likes of Rage Against the Machine and their hard rock brethren.  Though I've never found Carrie-Ann Moss particularly attractive in any other film, skin-tight leather suits apparently compliment her, because she's pretty damn sexy as love interest/bad-ass Trinity.  Better yet, the movie features one of the best action villains of the nineties in Hugo Weaving’s scary yet fascinating Agent Smith.

What I Didn’t Like

I can’t say there’s anything I absolute did not like about the first “Matrix.”  Elements of the sequels were disappointing, but, hey, I'll even admit I enjoyed the hell out of “The Matrix Reloaded.”  If anything, they might have been able to do better casting than His Woah-ness, Keanu Reeves, as Neo, but you know what?  The part really didn’t demand all that much versatility, which allowed the movie to work without exposing Reeves’ limitations.

Most Memorable Scene

Of all the special effects laden fights and battles in the movie, probably the most famous sequence is the gun-toting rampage of Neo and Trinity through the office building lobby, dazzling for its unprecedented effects but controversial for its dehumanizing violence.  Several of the most famous shooting rampages by black-dressed idiots in subsequent years have been blamed on this scene in particular, meaning that scene usually comes to mind anytime “The Matrix” is mentioned.

Let’s ignore the controversy for a few moments, though, and really get down to what is the most thrilling moment of the film.  It actually comes just minutes after that shoot-out, when, having made it to the building’s roof, Trinity takes to the skies in a helicopter.  Once that helicopter gets shot up and starts to fall out of the sky, the Wachowskis do a fantastic job of matching palpable tension with mind-blowing effects to generate a sweat-inducing action sequence for the next minute or so that is as satisfying as any you’ll ever see.

My Rating: 4 out of 5

IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE (1946)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Fantasy

Director: Frank Capra

Cast: Jimmy Stewart / Donna Reed / Lionel Barrymore

Plot

Small town good guy George Bailey has always longed for a different life, until a visit from an angel on Christmas teaches him to value the life he has.

What I Liked

I'm a day late with this post, considering it's a Christmas classic, but true classics are good at any time of year, so...

It’s easy to see why “It’s a Wonderful Life” remains one of the most beloved motion pictures ever made more than six decades after its initial release.  With a likeable hero, a timeless story, a warm message, and the enviously quaint Bedford Falls as a setting, the movie is as easily digestible for mass consumption as movies get.  With nearly every scene worthy of a Normal Rockwell painting and its Christmas atmosphere, it stands with “Miracle on 34^th Street” and “A Christmas Story” as perfectly nostalgic family movies that became sentimental favorites thanks to repeated reruns on television for generations after generation.

Of course no one can play the everyman with a heart of gold better than Jimmy Stewart, and here he’s at his endearing, “aww shucks” best.  More impressively, when things turn bad for George Bailey and that golden heart breaks, Stewart shows his range by rendering the character even more fascinating.  The ever-responsible and giving Bailey becomes consumed with anger, self-loathing, and guilt.  By the time he collapses into a chair at home, he's virtually unrecognizable as the idealistic fellow at the film's start.  It’s no wonder the Stewart was a favorite of director Frank Capra, who so successfully matched the actor's gangly charisma and versatile talent with his own penchant for inspiring Americana in such other classics as “You Can’t Take It With You” and “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.”  (See if you can spot the sly reference to one of these on a newspaper headline early in the film.)

What I Didn’t Like

Despite it’s having many of the facets that make Stewart and Capra so admired by lovers of classic Hollywood and its stature as one of the most iconic American films, “It’s a Wonderful Life” was not a major hit upon its release.  I'm not qualified to hypothesize why that was, but I can say why today I don’t consider it one of my favorite films.  Overall, it of course stands the test of time better than most of the movies of the era, but with its sappy praise of small town America and the silliness of its fantasy elements, there are certainly elements that feel childish, if not dated.  It’s “Saturday Evening Post” idealism, though effective escapism, feels out-of-touch for this viewer from a postmodern America, where you’re not on a first name basis with your milk man, there's more than one cab driver in town, and Donna Reed doesn't cook your meals.

Most Memorable Scene

My favorite scene is when George and Mary walk home from the high school dance.  Despite both actors having pop culture legacies much larger than their characters, they still manage to convince the viewer that the characters have known each other since childhood and are truly relaxed in each other’s company.  Stewart and Reed do have an enjoyable chemistry here that makes for the movie’s most enjoyable moments.

My Rating: 4 out of 5

ARTISTS AND MODELS (1955)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Comedy / Musical

Director: Frank Tashlin

Cast: Jerry Lewis / Dean Martin / Shirley MacLaine

Plot

Starving artist Rick and his imbecilic roommate Eugene fall for their lovely upstairs neighbors, unwittingly getting them all involved in an international espionage conspiracy when Rick’s comic book coincidentally reveals a top secret military code.

What I Liked

A movie that parodies itself, “Artists and Models” is an early example of self-referential pop culture, and has therefore been praised as predicting pop art.  That’s giving this shameless excuse for goofiness and sex appeal far too much credit.  It does, however, work as a sometimes amusing portrait of what passed for entertainment in the 1950s.  Producer Hal B. Wallis and director Frank Tashlin sure set out to piece together as much mass appeal into a single picture as possible.  We’ve got Dean Martin crooning some catchy but unspectacular musical numbers for the grown-ups, Jerry Lewis running his standard goofball-maniac routine for the kids, a fetishistic amount of bare female legs for the boys, some rushed romance scenes for the girls, and an even more superfluous Cold War paranoia subplot for… J. Edgar Hoover?  The real plot, to get as many butts in the seats as possible, is unabashedly obvious.

What I Didn’t Like

Apart from the occasional silly dialogue, the overall upbeat tone, there’s not much for today’s movie audiences to enjoy.  The Music numbers are pleasant enough, but ultimately forgettable.  Lewis’s cross-eyed, tongue-wagging man-child shtick hasn’t aged well and, with only a few exceptions, I can’t imagine it generating laughs out of anyone over the age of ten.  At the time, the sexual innuendos that appear throughout were considered edgy for a Martin and Lewis picture, but today their shock value simply doesn’t exist and many of the jokes go by without even being noticed.  Even the T&A features no T and no A.  It may have been one of the most ambitious movies to be built around Martin and Lewis, who were then possibly the biggest movie stars in the world, but today it comes off as nothing but a thrown together piece of throwaway entertainment that doesn’t really entertain.  It certainly be on any list of movies you must see before you die.

Most Memorable Scene

I’ll admit I did get a giggle out of a few of Lewis’s screaming nightmares where he rattles off some pretty spectacular sci-fi comic book plots to an astonished Dean.  But I was most pleasantly surprised by the not-so-sly “Rear Window” reference that pops up later in the movie.

My Rating: 1.5 out of 5

THE PIANIST (2002)

Country: France / Germany / Poland / U.K.

Genre(s): Drama

Director: Roman Polanski

Cast: Adrien Brody / Ed Stoppard / Emilia Fox

Plot

The true story of concert pianist Wladyslaw Szpilman, a Polish Jew who endured Nazi persecution during World War II and escaped the Holocaust by living in hiding and desperation for years on end.

What I Liked

The memoirs of Jewish survivors of Nazi brutality are many (read “Maus” and “Night” if you haven’t already).  The importance of their existence is obvious and several have been made into excellent films (including “Europa Europa,” which I’ve already reviewed in this blog).  But none of the films that I’ve seen offer anything approaching the visceral impact of “The Pianist.”  As a child, director Roman Polanski grew up during the Nazi occupation of Poland and, of Jewish ancestry, was forced to survive by hiding his identity and relying on the illicit hospitality of strangers.  Like Wladyslaw Szpilman, the subject of his film, Polanski lived in Krakow, was separated from his family (who were sent to death camps), endured multiple life-threatening ordeals, and went on to success in an artistic field after the war.  So leave it to Polanski to lend the utmost authenticity to Szpilman’s story.

There is little to be found in “The Pianist” concerned with artistic flair, stylishness, or technical innovation, and that’s clearly an intentional choice by Polanski, who showed plenty of all three qualities in earlier films.  That choice ends up being the source of the movie’s greatness.  Instead, the film presents a frank, no-frills documentation of the events that happened in Krakow between 1939 and 1944.  Captured with devastating clarity are the poverty of the ghettos, the sadism of the Nazis, the desperation of the Jews, and, most striking of all, the corpses of men, women, and children lying exactly how they fell in the streets for days and weeks on end.  Those bodies are presented mostly as meaningless things which everyone else has to step around to get where they’re going.  This matter-of-factness with which everyone regards the constant surrounding death proves one of the most heartbreaking facets of the film.  Only someone like Polanski, who experienced it all first hand, could remember these kinds of details to render them with such unnerving emotional effect on film.

Getting beyond the history and social drama surrounding him, Adrien Brody’s personification of Szpilman’s fall from refined intellectual to ragged scavenger lies at the heart of the personal story. Brody captures the change in the details of his performance, making subtle changes along the way so that the viewer doesn’t notice Szpilman’s physical and psychic transformation until it becomes complete.  Suddenly we realize we realize we’re watching a limping skeleton in rags rummaging through empty homes for crumbs and we are struggling to remember the slick-haired, bright-eyed idealist in the fine suits.  Brody’s performance is nothing less than astonishing.

What I Didn’t Like

I certainly didn’t enjoy some of the emotions the movie made me feel.  I can’t imagine anyone would go into a movie about what the Nazis did to Jews expecting the feel-good movie of the year, but in case it’s not obvious, you can expect to be angry at humanity as a species at several points in this movie.  The term heartbreaking is used a lot in describing movies, yet has never been more deserved than when used to describe “The Pianist.”  But it’s that very breaking of the heart which makes “The Pianist” so important and an absolute must-see movie.

Emotionally, I felt generally less moved by the events on screen once Szpilman had been left alone, without his family and friends, who are all either murdered or shipped off to death camps about half way through the movie.  They're relationships with each other and with him are what really draw the view in; when they go, we're left with just Szpilman.  Obviously they're going is the truth and integral to the story overall, but after this the movie becomes noticeably colder, perhaps reflect the loss of warmth in Szpilman's own life.  The problem is that, beyond his amazing fight for survival and the astonishing changes he goes through in that fight, I honestly did not find Szpilman alone all that likeable.  I had no reason to dislike him, either, but I rooted for him only because he in no way deserved to endure what he went through, not because I found his personality engaging in any way.  Perhaps this was another aspect of Polanski’s truthful approach to his material; maybe the real Szpilman wasn’t all that charismatic of a guy.  The director clearly makes a concerted effort to avoid sentimentality or sappiness, even when it comes to his protagonist.

Most Memorable Scene

There are more than a handful of absolutely astonishing moments in this movie that will resonate with me for a good long time.  I’m expecting a lot of them to pop up in my nightmares, especially one where Szpilman seeks out the help of friends only to find the entire family, including two young boys, lying dead in the street with bullet holes in their heads.  But equally powerful is a brief moment of tarnished beauty, so let’s focus on that one.  A starving Szpilman is discovered by a Nazi officer, who orders him to sit and play the piano for him.  Here Brody plays Chopin as the broken Szpilman, capturing all the rapture and agony of both the song and the character.  Meanwhile, Polanski allows a brief moment of visual flourish, using lighting and camera angles to make it all seem like an out-of-body experience as watch, enraptured, a Jew play at a piano draped in the coat and hat of a Nazi officer.

My Rating: 5 out of 5

VAMPYR (1932)

Country: Germany

Genre(s): Horror

Director: Carl Theodor Dreyer

Cast: Julian West / Jan Hieronimko / Henriette Gerard

Plot

While traveling the German countryside, a man comes upon a mysterious village full of supernatural phenomena under the control of a decrepit female vampire who feasts on the blood of the young.

What I Liked

As a 1930s vampire picture with many of the same plot elements as “Dracula,” “Vampyr” will inevitably always be compared with its more famous American cousin, but the comparison is favorable.  Released only a year after the success of “Dracula,” this movie is twice as eerie and three times scarier than its predecessor.  As one of the earliest sound films in the history of German cinema, it has very little dialogue, yet the silence only adds to the film’s unnerving qualities (something that certainly couldn’t be said of conversation-heavy “Dracula”).  Independently financed by its director and lead actor, the film lacked the big budget enjoyed by the spate of horror films released by Universal Pictures in the same period, but again this proves a benefit.  The hazy film quality gives everyone in the film a ghostly pallor and the movie overall the hallucinogenic atmosphere of a nightmare.  With the constrained budget forcing him to work harder for frightful effects than his American contemporaries, director Carl Theodor Dreyer made the most of his outstanding technical expertise to put together a series of flourishes and gimmicks that are more visually impressive than anything Tod Browning accomplished with “Dracula.”  It’s hard to think of any film that makes better use of the shades of black and white to generate repulsion and horror in an audience.  Meanwhile disembodied shadows, transparent spirits, unusual camera angles, and seamless camera movement provide constant amusement for the eyes.  Few, if any, films that I’ve seen have so successfully transfered nightmare to celluloid.

What I Didn’t Like

While it is creepier than many of its horror contemporaries, those used to the intensity of today’s horror will certainly find “Vampyr” to still be on the slow side.  The movie's scariness comes almost entirely from atmosphere and what precious little there is of real action usually takes place off-screen, alluded to either by sound or shadow.  Even the eventual confrontation with the head vampire proves disappointingly simple and anti-climatic.  That relative tameness, when combined with Dreyer’s unorthodox brand of storytelling (using things like dreams, premonitions, and copious shots of the text of a book), can make for an off-putting viewing experience for some.

Most Memorable Scene

Even if the final showdown with the vampire at the end proves dissatisfying, the film continues on to a more intense conclusion involving the death of the vampire’s most loyal minion, the town doctor (made up to look like a cross between Albert Einstein and the mad scientist from “Metropolis”).  His final moments are absolutely gripping and the method by which he is killed feels like something out of Dante’s “Inferno,” hellish to the point that this viewer actually felt a little sorry for one of the baddest baddies in the movie.

My Rating: 4.5 out of 5

MARNIE (1964)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Crime / Drama

Director: Alfred Hitchcock

Cast: Tippi Hedren / Sean Connery / Diane Baker

Plot

Con artist and thief Marnie plots to rob her wealthy boss, only to have him blackmail her into marriage once he finds out.

What I Liked

Though the title character’s neurosis is the true focus of the movie, I found the more intriguing character to be that of Mark Rutland, the man so obsessed with her that he forces her into marriage.  Sean Connery plays Mark with the same suave masculinity he brought to James Bond for the first time just two years prior.  This time, though, that confidence is mixed with a myopic fixation bordering on dangerous and a manipulative streak that approaches villainy.  Neither were traits of Bond, allowing Connery to show his range by pulling off this added complexity with absolute believability.  He may not be the criminal in the story, but Rutland is certainly a jerk (arguably even a rapist), yet it’s hard to argue with the results.  He may be an absolute asshole, but he gets exactly what he wants every time he tries for it.  That impressive quality alone makes him much more interesting than Tippi Hedren’s perpetually pouty Marnie.

Director Alfred Hitchcock makes the most of the film’s more suspenseful scenes with the various slights of hand and gimmicks for which he was famous.  However, it is really the film’s score, composed by Bernard Herrmann (also responsible for contributing essential scores to Hitch classics like “Vertigo,” “North by Northwest” and “Psycho”) that contributes the truly unsettling mood to the film.  Anytime Herrmann’s music can be heard, an unavoidable eeriness permeates the movie, not necessarily in visuals or plot at all, but simply through the music’s toying with the audience’s nerves.

What I Didn’t Like

What must have been considered a cutting-age psychological thriller wields less of an impact five decades later, now that the films that it influenced have surpassed it both for both psychological depth and shock value.  Marnie’s unusual hang-ups (screaming during thunderstorms, having panic attacks at the sight of the color red, and a physical repulsion to the touch of a man) come off more as kooky than disturbing to a modern viewer.  That the plot mainly follows her husband’s pursuit of the source of these troubles consequently weakens the film as a whole, especially since the big payoff at the end isn’t half as shocking as the conclusion to a run-of-the-mill “Law and Order: Criminal Intent.”

Most Memorable Scene

The most controversial scene of the film is the consummation of the marriage between Marnie and Mark, a scene that implies that Mark essentially rapes Marnie.  Partly because the rape itself is not seen (thankfully), it is not nearly as shocking or upsetting for a modern viewer as it would have been for a filmgoer in 1964.  Thus I will bypass that scene and pick another as my personal favorite: the car ride where Mark reveals his marriage plans to a dumbfounded Marnie.  He calmly breaks the news to her with all the tact of a caveman hitting a woman over the head with a club and making off with her slumped over his shoulder.  Meanwhile, she resorts to all the guile she can muster to manipulate her way out of matrimony.  It’s an amusing clash of personalities that reveals a great deal of how each character makes his or her way through the world, only in this case Mark completely dominates the battle, with Marnie finding her bag of tricks powerless against his detached self-confidence.  Ultimately, it is still a rape of a less physical kind, one that relies less on shock value and more on clever writing.

My Rating: 3 out of 5

MEAN STREETS (1973)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Crime / Drama

Director: Martin Scorsese

Cast: Harvey Keitel / Robert De Niro / Richard Romanus

Plot

A young New York wiseguy risks everything to protect his reckless best friend from a local loan shark.

What I Liked

“You don’t make up for your sins in church.  You do it in the streets.  You do it at home.  The rest is bullshit, and you know it.”  That opening line to “Mean Streets” not only sums up a lot of what’s going on in this movie, it sums a lot of what goes in in most of the Martin Scorsese movies that would follow.  The practicality of faith in today’s world; guilt; penance; the unfulfilled quest for redemption; Scorsese is clearly fascinated by these themes and they all run as an undercurrent in his first major film.

The inclusion of these elements into a “gangster” brought maturity and complexity to the genre, something only “The Godfather,” released just a year before, had accomplished was as much success.  Yet “Mean Streets” was nothing like “The Godfather,” at least not on the surface.  Where the earlier movie was concerned with the upper echelon of the Mafia, mythologizing criminals as family men devoted to honor and respect, “Mean Streets” gives an ultra-realist perspective, depicting the hustlers on the street, smacking around women, scamming kids out of twenty dollars, and getting in drunken brawls.  As Scorsese grew up in the same streets in which his movie is set, his familiarity with the people who live there and their lifestyles lend an authenticity to the film that “The Godfather,” in all its deserved glory, never approaches.

As good as he is, Scorsese was lucky to have access to such terrific young actors as Harvey Keitel and Robert De Niro to play his leads.  The director may have broken new ground with his concept and approach, but their talent and chemistry are what truly make the movie enjoyable to watch.  Like him, they grew up in New York and were familiar with the type of characters they were asked to play.  Keitel is magnificent as penance-obsessed Charlie, the numbers runner trying to make good the eyes of his Mafioso uncle (and God) while also being pulled into the gutter by De Niro’s character, Johnny Boy.  But De Niro outshines even Keitel, making the most of his character Johnny, a man who is aflame with charisma, unpredictability, and danger.

What I Didn’t Like

Not yet confined by the need to please major film studios, Scorsese put together more of a slice-of-life film than a concisely plotted, action-packed gangster picture.  Hardly economical the drama drags through the copious character development, particularly early on.  Luckily we can still enjoy watching some fine actors in their prime have a great time with their craft, so the action isn’t missed too much.  However, “Mean Streets” is nowhere as colorful or slick as the director’s later underworld pictures like “Goodfellas,” “The Gangs of New York,” and the “Departed.”

Most Memorable Scene

Nobody can shoot a bar scene like Scorsese.  He has the camera carouse through the wasted denizens as though it were one of them, rocking along with the tunes of the Ronettes, the Marvelettes, and the Stones.  There are so many great bar moments in “Mean Streets,” I can’t single out just one, so I’ll have to go with two.  There’s Johnny Boy’s “crossfire hurricane” entrance to “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” and Charlie’s shitfaced stroll through the bar, hugging and kissing anyone who comes within reach to the wacky sounds of “Rubber Biscuit.”  Both scenes are two of my favorite moments in all of cinema and are absolutely definitive Scorsese, featuring techniques he would use time and again, especially in “Goodfellas.”  Most importantly, it was scenes like these that would be so influential on later filmmakers like Quentin Tarantino and Spike Lee.

My Rating: 4.5 out of 5

THE DEAD (1987)

Country: U.K. / U.S.A.

Genre(s): Drama

Director: John Huston

Cast: Donal McCann / Anjelica Huston / Helena Carroll

Plot

An Irish couple attends a family Christmas party, full of conversations about politics, music, and religion.  What should be a joyous occasion unexpectedly puts the couple in a somber, melancholy mood, the reasons for which are only understood at the evening’s close.

What I Liked

Although I’m an English major, I somehow got through college without reading very much James Joyce, to my detriment.  Even still, I learned enough about him and his writings to know that transferring his works to motion pictures would be a difficult task.  His style and plots rarely adhere to convention, making the translation to the more immediate medium of movies a challenge.  Though I’ve never read “The Dead,” the final part of Joyce’s “Dubliners” collection, I do feel that director John Huston did a marvelous job of transferring literature to film without sacrificing the subtle beauty that made the literature great.

That impression is obviously not based on familiarity with the source material, but rather from the fascinating and haunting nature of the film, regardless of the story’s origin.  I reiterate the word haunting, as that is precisely the underlying theme of much of what goes on in “The Dead.”  While not overtly concerned with the departed (at least not until its final scene), the story and characters are all concerned with the lost; lost youth, lost experiences, lost opportunities, and, yes, lost people.  The dinner conversation centers on memories, death, and tradition, never straying far from an underlying current of mourning.

An excellent cast flawlessly captures how their very disparate characters are affected by the evening.  Some sodden themselves with drink, others use polite smiles to hide their pangs of nostalgia, some are overcome with bitterness, while still others lose themselves in daydreams of the past.  There may be little-to-no on screen action, but there is a clearly discernible plot played out on the faces and in the words of the characters.

What I Didn’t Like

The story’s lack of adherence to conventional movie-making plot structure and devices will make this a dismal or off-putting experience for some.  It certainly lacks for both the action and the candid melodrama I am used to in the movies.  Nevertheless, I found myself enthralled by the exquisite emotional undercurrent of the film.

Most Memorable Scene

As though the dinner were a polite séance, the dead finally dig their way to the surface in the film’s final scene, where Mrs. Conroy (played with mesmerizing restraint by Anjelica Huston) confesses to her husband (a masterful Donal McCann) of a death for which she has long felt responsible.  After his wife collapses in grief, Mr. Conroy’s thoughts drift toward a nearby window and the snow falling throughout Ireland.  He ponders his marriage, love, and death in a soliloquy (done in voice-over) taken almost word-for-word from Joyce’s own text.  It easily ranks among some of the best dialogue I’ve been privileged to hear, accompanied by visuals of the hauntingly (again that word) beautiful Irish countryside.  The film’s closing words, musing on death’s hold over the living, is rendered all the more poignant when one realizes this was the very last film made by director John Huston, whose health was rapidly fading during filming.

My Rating: 4.5 out of 5

CLERKS (1994)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Comedy

Director: Kevin Smith

Cast: Brian O’Halloran / Jeff Anderson / Marilyn Ghigliotti

Plot

Slackers Dante and Randal spend a day in their dead-end retail jobs insulting customers, playing hockey, watching porn, and discussing the health risks of fellating one’s self.

What I Liked

There are shoe-string budgets and then there are tooth floss budgets.  “Clerks” was made for somewhere around $27,000.  Considering that, this should have been a movie that barely made the straight-to-video market and then disappeared.  Instead, it became a cult classic and sparked the successful career of writer-director Kevin Smith.  One of those movies that was praised as speaking for (or to) suburban Gen-X youth in the nineties (“Singles,” “Reality Bites,” “Slacker,” etc. etc.), “Clerks” might be the most authentic, and certainly the funniest, of them all.  The reason for that authenticity is because, unlike some of the others, the filmmakers for this one probably didn’t set out to speak for anyone at all, but just to make a funny, low-budget movie they themselves would enjoy.  Its partly autobiographical inspiration and being shot on the very location where Smith himself worked didn’t hurt.  Neither does having a soundtrack featuring some of the best rock bands of the era, including Alice in Chains, Bad Religion, and C.O.C.

Taking place inside basically two locations, filled with shouting matches about pointless subjects, producing a number of quotable lines, and focusing on the insecurities and neuroticisms of its main characters, the movie’s appeal generates from its being something of a “Seinfeld” for Generation X.  The script is much dirtier (debating the subtle nuances of hermaphrodite porn, for example) but similar in comedic approach.  As with that classic sitcom, it is the snarky dialogue delivered at a rapid-fire tempo, quirky characters, and humiliating situations that make it unique and memorable.

What I Didn’t Like

I personally think Smith is a far better screenwriter than he is a director.  There’s little directorial flair here, basically straight-forward shots, minimal camera movement, and the positioning and movement of the actors seems too rigid and restricted.  A lot of this can be blamed on the limitations put on Smith by budget, technology, and location.  However, considering these limitations to his style improved only slightly in his later, bigger budget films, they’re more indicative of Smith himself than of his opportunities.

I don’t know if Smith used mostly friends to play the various customers who wander in and out of the convenience store throughout the movie.  It would make sense if he did, considering he certainly couldn’t have afforded to pay too many professionals.  It would also make sense because a lot of the people in the movie couldn’t act their way through a middle school play.  With a few exceptions, they’re stiff and awkward and deliver their dialogue in a rehearsed manner.  Ultimately though, the amateurish acting is part of the movie’s low-budget charm.

Most Memorable Scene

“Try not to suck any dick on your way through the parking lot!”  Ha!

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5

THE RECKLESS MOMENT (1949)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Crime / Drama

Director: Max Ophuls

Cast: Joan Bennett / James Mason / Frances E. Williams

Plot

After finding the dead body of her daughter’s boyfriend on her property, a suburban mother moves the corpse, hoping to avoid a criminal investigation.  A mysterious blackmailer then shows at her door, demanding $5,000 in exchange for the incriminating love letters between her daughter and the dead man.

What I Liked

I love a good subversive movie and “The Reckless Moment” is a wonderfully subversive suburban drama that challenges many of the accepted ideals of post-war America.  Mrs. Harper appears to be the model matriarch of the era, well-dressed and groomed, responsible, organized, acting as a moral compass for her children, and ferociously protecting her quintessential American family from the dangers of the outside world.   However, when her social role is challenged by the discovery of the corpse of a dead man and the possibility of her family and life being intruded upon by that outside world (the police) she abandons moral certainty and commits the crime of moving the body.  As time passes and the pressure mounts upon her, Mrs. Harper reveals to a stranger that she feels trapped by her family and her responsibilities, hinting that perhaps the ideal American mother might actually resent her family.  In a culture that worshiped Donna Reed, Mrs. Harper’s character insinuates that perhaps women might desire more out of life than being housewives.

That the thought of her family being investigated is enough for Mrs. Harper to panic and incriminate herself by moving the body represents another challenge of American society of this era.  In the post-war world, everyone had set social roles and everything was expected to be quiet and flawless.  In both the public and private arenas, those things considered weird, un-American, or different were quickly repressed or became the subject of fear and scandal.  “The Reckless Moment” displays a family, and particularly one woman, overcome by secrets.  Ashamed by something she did not even do and worried by what her neighbors might think, Mrs. Harper sets in motion a series of events that, instead of making her troubles go away, magnify them.  Thus this pseudo-noir film acts as an indictment of the so-called silent generation.

What I Didn’t Like

*spoiler alert*

The main arc of the story follows the blackmailer, Mr. Donnelly’s change of heart as he gets to know the put-upon Mrs. Harper.  James Mason does well at conveying that transformation from a remorseless victimizer to a hopeless romantic as smoothly as possible, yet the script simply does not allow enough time for that change to be plausible.  Somehow Donnelly, who admits himself to have been a vile crook his entire life, falls in love with Mrs. Harper and has a complete change-of-heart about his plot in a matter of about three face-to-face meetings.  This development has major repercussions on the conflict’s outcome as a whole and Mason’s interesting performance can’t compensate for a rushed plot, making the film’s conclusion seem entirely unbelievable.

Most Memorable Scene

Director Max Ophuls does a tremendous job throughout the entire film of playing up the film’s sense of paranoia through creating a prevailing sense of Mrs. Harper’s constant exposure to being found out.  Whether it is because of her constantly hovering family or her overly friendly neighbors, Mrs. Harper is constantly surrounded, with precious few moments of privacy.  Everyone in the film is filled with questions for the poor woman.  This is most effective when she travels into town with Donnelly and the two of them stop at a general store packed with locals.  Here, and again in a later scene where they discuss the death and blackmail in a crowded train station, the pair are surrounded by eyes, ears, and mouths that could launch a thousand rumors.  People step between them, bump into them, recognize them, and pry into their private details.  To the people doing all this, it is all part of everyday living; they think nothing of it.  But to Mrs. Harper and the viewer, these intrusions are maddeningly suspenseful.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5

GUNFIGHT AT THE O.K. CORRAL (1957)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Western

Director: John Sturges

Cast: Burt Lancaster / Kirk Douglas / Jo Van Fleet

Plot

Unlikely allies Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday take on the Clantons, a family of cattle rustlers, in Tombstone, Arizona.

What I Liked

Ultimately just a very solidly produced and directed Western in the classic mold, “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral” is separated from the pack of other fifties Westerns for two reasons.  First, it more closely follows the true events surrounding this oft-told story than any movie made previous, though it still takes plenty of creative liberties.  Second, Kirk Douglas’s multi-faceted performance of that infamous anti-hero of the West, Doc Holliday, set the standard by which all future actors would approach Holliday.  When compared with Burt Lancaster’s obsessively straight-laced Earp and the otherwise cliché cowboy characters in the movie, Douglas’s violent and charismatic Holliday is the unpredictable factor responsible for all of the story’s intrigue.  Where he goes, excitement (and viewer interest) follows.  A great deal of the film’s strength dramatically comes from the combative friendship that develops between he and Earp, with the rest of Tombstone wondering why a devoted lawman like Earp would keep a hot-tempered killer like Holliday around.  Their “odd couple” dynamic provides a sub-plot to the overall Earps versus Clantons rivalry.  However, Holliday's persona overpowers Earp's absolutely in every scene in which they appear together.  Whether he’s on a drinking binge, in a screaming match with his woman, throwing a knife in someone’s chest, or about to draw down on some poor sap, Holliday’s scenes bring the action and drama to a film that is otherwise a whole lot of dialogue.  His obvious edginess may even be seen as a progenitor of the more volatile Western anti-heroes that would begin to appear in the coming decade.

On a side note, look for early appearances from up-and-coming actors Lee Van Cleef and Dennis Hopper.

What I Didn’t Like

Outside of Douglas’s performance and the film’s obviously high production values, “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral” is not all that different from most of the other Westerns of the period.  A couple of its characters are a little more interesting than your standard Western fare.  It has a little more dramatic intrigue than the serial and TV Westerns popular in the period.  In its time it was extremely popular and a financial success, yet to a modern viewer it can easily be lumped in with the rest.

Most cliche of all is the title song sung by Frankie Laine.  With the hokiest lyrics that I suppose was meant to pass it off as an authentic Western folk ballad and an annoyingly repetitive chorus, the song ruins several scenes that would have been much better without its accompaniment.

Part of the disappointment may come from the fact that, for a movie whose title starts with the word “Gunfight,” the film is decidedly non-violent by modern standards.  Outside of one stabbing and the climactic end battle, the film is mostly dialogue, constantly teasing us with the threat of bloodshed that rarely appears.

Most Memorable Scene

Though the confrontation alluded to in the title of course includes the majority of the film's action, for me the most stunning action comes earlier in the film when Holliday, advised by Earp that men have come to Dodge City to kill him, gets the drop on an enemy by throwing a dagger straight into his chest.  It’s a personal act of hatred that tells us a lot about both Holliday’s cleverness and his bitterness, giving us a closer glimpse into his personality than any words could.  On top of that, the effect is pulled off marvelously and the surprise of the killing makes it more visceral than any shooting to come later.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5

DISTANT (2002)

A.K.A.: Uzak

Country: Turkey

Genre(s): Drama

Director: Nuri Bilge Ceylan

Cast: Muzaffer Ozdemir / Emin Toprak / Zuhal Gencer

Plot

Reclusive photographer Mahmut takes in his cousin Yusuf, who has arrived in Istanbul in search of work after a factory shut down.  When Yusuf’s job search falls short, the lifestyles of the two roommates clash.

What I Liked

Not exactly a thriller, “Distant” relies on its two main characters to generate interest through allegory.  Mahmut is a man who has cut himself off from all emotional attachments to the world outside of his own apartment, which he has lived in alone for some time.  Though he willingly takes in Yusuf out of either a sense of obligation or to feel better about himself, he quickly perceives Yusuf as an invader, the encroachment of society and humanity into the fortress of solitude he has built for himself.  Mahmut has a stronger relationship with his photographs, television, pornography, and books than he does with his own mother, roommate, or estranged wife.  The possibility of an emotional connection with Yusuf threatens Mahmut’s precious self-imposed isolation.  Mahmut seems to want to break out of that prison, both with Yusuf and his wife Zuhal, but at every opportunity he instead pushes them further away.  That struggle to establish intimacy with others while fearing the risks is something to which I’m sure plenty of people can relate.  In the end, as Mahmut sits alone on a park bench with a blend of puzzlement and regret on his face, I saw Michael Corleone in a similar, contemplative loneliness at the end of “The Godfather, Part II.”  “Distant” doesn’t begin to approach that classic for emotionality, intrigue, or quality, but it nonetheless expresses a universal truth in an admirably understated approach.

Important to the films overall mood is the isolation experienced by both men in Istanbul.  The apartment buildings, streets, and commercial areas are all claustrophobic with people.  Everyone seems to know everyone, whether it be in the public park or in the shipyards.  Yet both Mahmut and Yusuf experience their own discouraging isolation amidst all of this crowdedness, one self-imposed the other not.  Yusuf’s lonely search for work and love in Istanbul is heartbreaking.

The actors in the two lead roles were not professionals, they were people from the director’s own private life, a friend and a cousin.  I never would have known this had I not done a little reading on the film.  Both do fine jobs and are entirely believable, making the viewer feel as though we are hidden voyeurs into the private lives of actual people, rather than an audience taking in fiction.

What I Didn’t Like

To open my review by saying that “Distant” is not a thriller was beyond understatement.  Outside of a mouse being beaten to death against a brick wall (something of a climax for the resentment between the roomates), nothing resembling action is present in this movie.  It is all economical conversations, quiet contemplation, and more quiet despair.  We aren’t even given a soundtrack to listen to, which in this case heightens the realism of the drama, but certainly doesn’t help the lack of entertainment value.

Most Memorable Scene

As the story progresses and we learn more about Mahmut’s reclusive character, the opening scene is made more powerful through reflection.  We see Mahmut sitting in the dark in the foreground, while in the background is a blurry female figure.  Though she is only on the other side of the room, she is shot out of focus and seems miles away.  We can tell by the colors and movement she is stripping out of her clothing.  Mahmut, after taking off his shoes and briefly looking at her emotionlessly, walks over to her, sits next to her and almost mechanically shoves his hands between her legs.  End of scene.  The out of focus, seemingly distant person.  The lack of emotion on Mahmut’s face.  His abrupt, decidedly un-erotic gesture.  All symbolic of the man’s inability to connect with others, even in this most intimate of scenarios.

My Rating: 3 out of 5

CAMILLE (1936)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Romance

Director: George Cukor

Cast: Greta Garbo / Robert Taylor / Henry Daniell

Plot

Famous for her spendthrift ways and carefree living, Parisian courtesan Marguerite falls for a penniless young man, who also falls deeply in love with her.  However, society, expectations, jealousy, and family threaten to come between them.

What I Liked

Greta Garbo.  Without her, this movie ain’t much.  Her portrayal of the outwardly carefree but inwardly tortured Marguerite is well-rounded and benefits considerably from her distinctively European charisma.  In the beginning we only get to know Marguerite on the surface; she is materialistic, easily bored, and loves to be the center of attention.  And, like her, the film is at first a standard Paris period piece.   However, as we and her love interest, the tragically earnest Armand, get to know her better we learn that the real Marguerite is secretly ill, lonely, and frustratingly unknowable.  It is that inability to break through her well-constructed public persona and get to her true heart that tortures poor Armand and fascinates the audience, letting “Camille” stand out among the many drawing-room dramas that flooded cinemas in the 1930s.

What I Didn’t Like

Most of the movie is concerned with Armand’s dogged pursuit of Marguerite’s love, which she constantly professes and then refuses in a cycle through the entire story.  For me, this got old quick and, not being a devoted fan of period romance to begin with, I found my attention more than wavering.  Just because Armand is hopelessly enthralled by Marguerite, doesn’t mean I am necessarily enthralled by the movie.  Once I got over the seductive mysteriousness of Garbo’s Marguerite, I found there was little else to make me want to watch.

Most Memorable Scene

We first see the darker side of Marguerite when she retreats unnoticed from one of her dinner parties in a coughing fit, secluding herself in her room.  Of course Armand is the only guest to even realize she’s gone and follows her in to the unlit bedroom where she stares into a mirror alone, trying to catch her breath.  “You’re killing yourself,” he tells her bluntly.  To which she replies, “And you seem to be the only one who objects.”  It’s a heartbreaking little piece of dialogue that sums up everything tragic about her character.  Surrounded by reveling leaches, Marguerite is never alone but always lonely.

My Rating: 2.5 out of 5

ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST (1968)

A.K.A.: C’era Una Volta il West

Country: Italy / U.S.A.

Genre(s): Epic / Western

Director: Sergio Leone

Cast: Charles Bronson / Claudia Cardinale / Henry Fonda

Plot

Three gunmen and a prostitute arrive in a Western town at the same time, each of them becoming embroiled in a life and death struggle for control of a valuable piece of desert.

What I Liked

This is a movie I’ve wanted to see for a very long time.  I’ve been a Sergio Leone fan ever since the first time I saw “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” when I was a kid.  That was the first Western I ever liked, thanks to Leone’s visceral visual style and knack for the epic.  Since that time other titles on his filmography have joined that one as favorites of mine and I’ve always seen “Once Upon a Time in the West” included among lists of his masterpieces.  Yet, for no particular reason, I’ve never gotten around to watching it until now.  I was certainly missing out.

“Once Upon a Time in the West” has many of the same qualities that I have always enjoyed about Leone’s films; the intense close-ups, the dazzling camera movement, the mesmerizing choreography of lonely men against vast landscapes.  As the title would suggest, there is also that same quality of the mythic in this film, the larger-than-life characters who seem as ancient as the world itself on an equally timeless quest.  Just as in “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,” we have three unscrupulous gun fighters, each more evil than the last.  Then of course there is his marvelous melding of nerve-torturing suspense with abrupt violence into key scenes.  Perhaps most importantly, Ennio Morricone contributes yet another distinctive score, even if it doesn’t quite match that which he provided for “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.”

The casting here is brilliant.  First of all, casting perpetual good guy Henry Fonda as the dead-eyed child killer Frank was nothing short of a stroke of genius.  Voluptuous Italian sex goddess Claudia Cardinale perfects the “angel-whore” dichotomy (even if her lines are overdubbed).  And if you can’t get Clint Eastwood to play the quiet tough guy with no name, then Charles Bronson more than fits the bill.

In short, “Once Upon a Time in the West” has everything I love about a Leone Western, and lacks for nothing.

What I Didn’t Like

Maybe because I’ve seen most if not all of his other classics, this one didn’t quite have the same mind-blowing effect on me as the others.  I went in knowing what to expect, and got what I expected.  Which was excellence.

It might even be that by 1968, when this movie was made, Leone himself might have been a little too used to his Westerns himself, maybe running over the same ground a little too much.  This doesn’t mean he didn’t still do everything with the same eye-catching artistry, just maybe not with the full amount of zest with which he attacked his earlier films.  Then again, the lack of passion might have been the fault of the viewer.

Most Memorable Scene

No one, and I mean no one, ever, will outdo Sergio Leone for the marriage of suspense and gunfights.  He’s a wizard at getting every possible ounce of tension out of his shoot-outs and pulls off that magic more than once in “Once Upon a Time in the West.”  The best of them occurs when Fonda’s men double-cross him, leaving him to creep along the city street waiting for the trap to spring.  Meanwhile, Bronson watches from a window, clearly unsure which side he wants to take in the fight, but with his gun at the ready.  And stunning Cardinale is right there to steam up the scene with a different kind of tension from inside her bath.  And this isn't even the movie's climax.  Now that, as they say, is entertainment!

My Rating: 4.5 out of 5

PATTON (1970)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Epic / War

Director: Franklin Schaffner

Cast: George C. Scott / Karl Malden / Michael Bates

Plot

Eccentric American General George Patton commands Allied troops in the African and European theaters of World War II with great success, but his impatience for compromise and politics threatens his career.

What I Liked

Featuring one of my favorite lead performances, “Patton” fascinates from start to finish, even through repeated viewings.  This is in large part due to George C. Scott’s exhilarating portrayal of the title character himself, capturing a larger-than-life figure’s humanity and vulnerability without sacrificing what made him so impressive in the first place.  One can disagree with every word out of George Patton’s big mouth in this movie (I’m not saying I did), but, thanks to Scott, no one can resist liking him.

Speaking of Patton’s dialogue, this movie was co-written by Francis Ford Coppola, who would of course go on to a legendary career of his own as a film director.  I’m pretty sure anyone can look at his Internet Movie Database credits as a writer and director and find at least one of your favorite movies.  Just as he did on his next co-writing project (a little thing called “The Godfather”), Coppola displays such amazing skill at fleshing out complicated characters against a background of epic plotting and events while making it all seem seamless, that I can’t help but be jealous.

Speaking of epic scale, they don’t get much more epic.  At the end of World War II, Patton, with his Third Army, conquered more territory and defeated more enemies in a shorter time than any other general in history, and that was just one of his roles in the war.  So naturally his story is wide in scope, from a tank battle in northern Africa, to the liberation of Sicily, to his bloody, icy race toward Berlin.  In one of the most technically detailed war movies ever filmed, we experience the carnage of the battlefront, the intrigue of back-room meetings, the majesty of extravagant palaces, and the grandeur of astounding landscapes.

What I Didn’t Like

Some might find it overly long, and it does have its occasional lulls in action.  But those lulls are usually filled with wonderful, often shocking, illustrations of what made Patton a rebellious throwback in the face of ever-modernizing warfare.  I love every moment of this movie.

Most Memorable Scene

Really now, what can beat that iconic speech in front of the American flag?  It certainly stands among the greatest opening scenes in the history of film.  I don’t think I would mind if every film ever released opened with this before getting started.

My Rating: 5 out of 5