A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET (1984)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Horror

Director: Wes Craven

Cast: Heather Langenkamp / Robert Englund / Johnny Depp

Plot

Murdered child killer Freddy Krueger returns from the dead to attack the teenagers of Elm Street in their dreams.

What I Liked

*spoiler alert*

The horror film genre has perhaps more sub-genres and styles than any other.  Supernatural horror, comedy horror, slasher horror, monster horror, splatter horror, the list goes on.  Fans of horror tend to prefer one or two of these styles over the others.  One of the great things about “A Nightmare on Elm Street” is that it meshes together elements from every one of the subgenres I mentioned; and it does that so well that it really stands as a landmark representative for all of them.  Name another horror film that could do that.  Go on….  Even if you’re more of a horror geek than me and you did think of one, it took you a while, didn’t it?

Let’s take each subgenre one by one.  The first one I brought up was supernatural horror.  Well, its villain, Freddy Krueger returns from the dead, inhabiting and manipulating dreams.  No question there.  Comedy Horror; of all the famous ‘80s horror film killers, Freddy is easily the funniest, an endless source of cartoonish violence, clownish facial expressions, and menacing one-liners.  Not to mention director/writer Wes Craven’s practically running amok in this film with self-referential parodies of horror clichés and sarcastic representations of suburban bliss.  Slasher horror; the man’s got knives on four of his fingers and spends all his time hunting down teenage girls.  If that isn’t a slasher, I don’t know what is.  Monster horror; he’s cursed and grotesquely deformed.  He’s the living dead.  In your dreams, he can appear as anything.  He’s really a classic movie monster in much the same way the Universal monsters were.  Splatter horror.  I can’t imagine that filmgoers of the 1980s had ever seen as much blood in a mainstream movie theater, except for maybe in Craven’s own earlier entries, “Last House on the Left” and “The Hills Have Eyes.”  This one really does have something for everyone.  Provided you’re a fan of some kind of horror, that is.

So, now that I’ve taken too long to prove that point, let’s get to the reason why I really like this movie.  It’s just one surreal ride.  Full of primary colors, hallucinatory dream sequences, copious blood, and logic-defying effects, the film stands as a testament to how truly entertaining horror can be on a shoe-string budget.  The best effect is easily when Johnny Depp is transformed into a gravity-defying fountain of blood.  Even nearly 30 years later, it’s hard to top “Nightmare” a combination of both shocks and laughs.

What I Didn’t Like

Hampered by a limited budget and technological capabilities, some of the effects in the movie just seem silly to watch now.  However, the effects that do work, work incredibly well, enough so that the goofiness of the rest are easily overlooked.

While we're on the topic of what really works, Freddy should have had more screen time.  Who cares about whiny Heather Langenkamp.  I was more of Freddy’s stalking through the shadows and cheezy wisecracks.

Most Memorable Scene

Needless to say, Freddy is what made this movie stand apart from the hordes of other teen-oriented horror flicks being shoveled onto the market in the 1980s.  For me, his tour de force moment is when a seemingly risen-from-the-grave Tina, clad in body bag and dried blood, lures Nancy into Freddy’s boiler room lair.  The use of the camera, shadows, timing, and perhaps the best horror score of the decade turn a high school into a truly chilling living nightmare.  It’s the most believable, tense, and ultimately frightening of the film's many scary moments.

My Rating: 4 out 5

KING OF NEW YORK (1990)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Crime

Director: Abel Ferrera

Cast: Christopher Walken / Victor Argo / Laurence Fishburne

Plot

Released after years in prison, drug kingpin Frank White looks to turn over a new leaf, but his quest for redemption leads him directly into a bloody new war for control of the streets.

What I Liked

I used to own "King of New York" on DVD but I don't anymore.  I must have sold it for quick money at some point.  Anyway, it's on Netflix now; so no worries.

The cast of “King of New York” is its true appeal.  First and foremost is of course Christopher Walken, who is at his devilishly charming best as Frank White, the mob boss who is as charismatic as he is chilling.  He plays White with a freaky confidence that makes one feel as though Walken might relate to this coldblooded killer a little too much.  Personally, that just made me like it more.  He’s backed by a supporting cast of future stars: Laurence Fishburne, Wesley Snipes, David Caruso, Steve Buscemi, and B-movie stalwart Victor Argo.  All are perfectly cast in their roles, and watching them all work together is half the fun of the movie.

Despite its over-the-top violence, modern setting, and focus on today’s drugs instead of prohibited alcohol, “King of New York” has as much in common with the classic gangster films of the 1930s as it does other gangster flicks of the 1990s.  Whereas other modern crime epics like “Casino” or “Donnie Brasco” focus on what it’s truly like to live as middle management inside of a criminal organization, “King of New York” focuses on a charismatic and frightening individual whose ambition and bloodthirstiness allows him to dominate his peers.  That kind of plot harkens back to “Little Caesar” or “Public Enemy.”  While films like “Goodfellas” focus on the gritty realities of murder, the way that “King of New York” treats murder as an enjoyable game recalls the carefree killing of the original “Scarface.”  To be honest, I actually prefer the modern day classics to their older influences, but the makers of this one did a nice job of straddling both eras.

What I Disliked

The movie’s strength can also be its weakness.  The same wildness that reminds me of the classic gangster films of yesteryear also brands the movie as too silly to take seriously.  Cult film director Abel Ferrera is not known for his subtlety.  He reinforced that reputation with “King of New York.”  There’s so much over-the-top, stylized violence in this movie that it sometimes verges into slapstick territory.  The bullet-riddled gang war scenes amount to massacres on a preposterous scale.

Without its terrific cast, this one might have gone straight-to-video.  As it is, it's an unusual gangster film, but not an essential one.

Most Memorable Scene

Ferrera’s talent for stylish violence is best on display after a team of cops ambush Frank and his sidekick Jimmy (Fishburne).  When Frank and Jimmy try to make their escape in a limo, a manic and gruesome car chase ensues, immediately followed by a beautifully shot outdoor scene where Wesley Snipes hunts down Lawrence Fisburne.  Ferrera makes wonderful use of the location, the rain, and the shadows to bring a nightmarish, post-apocalyptic feel to the New York night.  I’m certain that anytime “King of New York” is mentioned to someone who has seen this movie, its visuals from this scene that flash through their mind.

My Rating: 3 out of 5

DUMBO (1941)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Animated / Comedy / Fantasy / Musical

Director: Ben Sharpsteen

Cast: Edward Brophy / Herman Bing / Verna Felton

Plot

Humiliated by the other animals and performers because of his freakishly huge ears, baby circus elephant Dumbo finds friendship and self-confidence with the help of Timothy Q. Mouse.

What I Liked

If one had the task of showing some unfortunate soul who had never heard of Disney one picture to sum up what the first spate of Disney films were like, “Dumbo” wouldn’t be a bad choice for the most definitive of them all.  True, there are none of the company’s famous princesses.  But everything else is here: the anthropomorphic animals; an immaculately innocent protagonist; an encouraging sidekick; a quest for self-confidence; and of course the bright, colorful animation and award-winning music.

Also like many of the best Disney flicks, “Dumbo” moves along at a brisk pace.  It’s the shortest of the early animated features and, during its brief run, packs in plenty of visual spectacle and shameless sentimentality to keep a viewer of any age entertained.

Glowing with an innocence long since considered passé in motion pictures, even in children’s films, this movie may be a relic by today’s standards; but it’s a heart-warming, charming relic.

What I Didn’t Like

*spoiler alert*

[Do I even need to include a spoiler alert for a classic kid’s movie, the story to which everyone knows?]

I have to say it; I was completely let down by the ending of the film.  Dumbo finally gets to flying and I’m thinking that I’m really going to be in for some fun viewing now.  Then the movie ends.  Bam!  One full on aerial animation scene and we’re done.  What a gyp! (With apologies to any gypsy filmgoers who may read my blog.

While we’re talking about letdowns, the songs to this film may have won the Academy Award for that year, but the field must have been pretty weak because there’s not a true classic in the entire soundtrack.  “When I See An Elephant Fly” is the best of the bunch by a long shot.  It’s 1940s Disney attempt at being jazzy, so it is of course sung by some stereotypical blackbirds, one named (ahem) Jim Crow.  It is admittedly catchy in a foot-tapping sort of way.  But there’s nothing here approaching the kind of music one gets in “Snow White,” “Pinocchio,” “The Jungle Book,” or even “The Lion King.”

Most Memorable Scene

Sorry, I have to pick two scenes here.

In terms of animation, the most impressive is the hallucinatory dream/nightmare filled with pink elephants which Dumbo and Timothy share after accidentally getting drunk.  Surely nothing like it had existed in animated film before.  In fact, it strikes me more as something from the mind of Rob Zombie than those of the people at Walt Disney Studios in the 1940s.

For tugging at the heart strings, nothing beats watching cute little Dumbo cuddle up for a swing on his imprisoned mother’s trunk.  Like I said earlier, shamelessly sentimental; but they are oh so good at it.

My Rating: 3.5 out 5

THE MUSIC ROOM (1958)

A.K.A.: Jalsaghar

Country: India

Genre(s): Drama

Director: Satyajit Ray

Cast: Chhabi Biswas / Tulsi Lahiri / Gangapada Basu

Plot

Having spent the family wealth on a lifetime of extravagance, a nobleman becomes a brooding recluse in his palace home.

What I Liked

The striking visual power of this film is so perfect it borders on magical.  Where most dramas are usually dialogue-heavy, the filmmakers behind “The Music Room” used dialogue sparingly, replacing words with framing and camera work to convey both story and emotion. Nearly the entire film is shot inside a vast, ornate palace, decorated from ceiling to floor with the finest art and furnishings.  Yet, despite the décor, the house is unimaginably hollow, made a metaphor for loss by the masterful cinematography, which expresses the loneliness of the film’s main character.  There are a lot of films out there with impressive cinematography; few film made after the silent era, if any, boast cinematography so integral to the plot as does “The Music Room.”

Never extravagant or melodramatic, the subtle performances Chhabi Biswas as the main character and Tulsi Lahiri as his manservant are also what helps keep this slow-paced film interesting.  Biswas in particular was handed a character that is hard to feel sorry for, yet that character is the all-important protagonist.  That he makes this spoiled man of privilege who treats everyone around him like dirt at least a little relatable and sympathetic is a major accomplishment on his part.

What I Didn’t Like

This movie is dreadfully slow.  It takes forever for anything to happen and most of the things that do end up happening honestly left me indifferent.  It is the visual beauty of the film that I most admire, not so much the plot or drama.

And call me insensitive or politically incorrect, but the atonal traditional music of India is just dreadful on my Western ears.  This movie did not need trance-inducing music to make its American viewers even sleepier; the story can do that all on its own.  Though I must admit there is a pretty impressive dance number by a woman in the film’s climax, set to an all-too-irritating soundtrack.

Most Memorable Scene

There are several dramatic moments from the film that do manage to remain in my mind a day after I have finished watching it.  But really, the most impactful scenes are those without words and often without people in them; those are the ones that I’m sure will define the movie in my memory.  These are the wonderfully framed portraits of the empty rooms and halls of the palace that I mentioned earlier.  These visuals are beautiful and disturbing all at once.

My Rating: 2.5 out 5

FOUR LIONS (2010)

Country: U.K.

Genre(s): Comedy / Drama

Director: Christopher Morris

Cast: Riz Ahmed / Nigel Lindsay / Kayvan Novak

Plot

Four British Muslims plot to martyr themselves in a coordinated suicide bomb attack.  Their only problem is that they’re all idiots.

What I Liked

There’s no getting around it; the movie’s damn funny.  When one first hears/reads that the film is about terrorist plotting a suicide bombing, comedy isn’t the fight genre that might come to mind.  In fact, when one learns it is a comedy, one might take offense.  After all, most would agree that mass killing is no laughing matter.  “Four Lions” will make you laugh out loud, despite yourself.  The film presents the quite plausible hypothesis that most terrorists are far from the mysterious, mad geniuses or even the devout religious fanatics they are often portrayed as being in film; they’re dumbasses who can’t get themselves organized, constantly screw up at every endeavor, and could care less about the Koran.

However this is no bare-bones “Three Stooges” serving of buffoonery (Don’t get me wrong, I love the Stooges).  Despite their imbecility, the characters in “Four Lions” are never allowed to become simply caricatures; they are very well fleshed-out characters both emotionally and psychologically and thus seem entirely believable.  Which is where the film is truly frightening.  Every laugh comes with a twinge of fear, yet the laughs are unavoidable.

What I Didn’t Like

Of course, as I mentioned previously, there is often an uncomfortable feeling one gets due to the subject matter of the movie; but that’s part of the films point and part of what makes it so funny.  Just know that it’s there.

While this film is terrifically funny, part of its humor relies upon the very shock of taking people who are regarded as such devious villains in popular culture and turning all of that on its head with pure silliness.  Much of the comedy that takes place on screen wouldn’t be so funny if it wasn’t making fun of aspiring mass murderers.  Take away the novelty of the subject matter, and the film would be about half as funny.

Most Memorable Scene

You can see some of these gags coming long before they happen, but they’re executed so well that the laughs never suffer.  The one involving a bazooka being shot at a U.S. drone has been done countless times on film and television, but still had me in stitches.  Funniest moment of the movie.

My Rating: 3 out of 5

THINGS TO COME (1936)

Country: U.K.

Genre(s): Science Fiction

Director: William Cameron Menzies

Cast: Raymond Massey / Ralph Richardson / Margaretta Scott

Plot

A hypothetical future for mankind is traced from the prediction of a second World War through to a 21^st century utopia.

What I Liked

Conceptually, “Things to Come” is a compelling future history of mankind in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, laying out H.G. Wells’ prediction for the course of civilization to come with technical mastery and visual flair.  Scripted by Wells himself from his own book “The Shape of Things to Come,” the movie is more about philosophy and ideas than drama.  He may have gotten many of the details of what would actually happen incorrect, but he was certainly correct about the philosophical conflicts that would pervade political, ethical, and theoretical debate today.  Of course many of those conflicts were the same conflicts which had dominated human discourse for millennia by 1936, but Wells and the filmmakers successfully transport the themes of man’s history into the future by interpreting their relevance through illustrations of the unprecedented power technology has to annihilate or enhance civilization.  As the film draws to a close, the ethical questions become easier to recognize until finally we are given Wells’ answer to those dilemmas through the parting words of progressive dictator Oswald Cabal.

While the concepts are what linger the longest in the viewer’s mind after its conclusion, during the actual viewing experience it is the visual design of the film that most impresses.  Using a vast arsenal of established special effects tricks and probably a few that were brand new, the filmmakers bring us dystopian landscapes, frightening war machines, flying fortresses, massive machines, futuristic factories, giant space guns, and underground metropolises, most of which remains passable here in the future the film tries to predict.  Most intriguing of all is the set design and cinematography, which bestow upon those sets and props an intimidating yet exciting vastness.  Even movie theater signs have a titanic boldness.  It is its sheer look that would prove the most influential element of the film, more-so than its messages or effects.

What I Didn’t Like

The movie is based on a Wells book that was more of a treatise on man’s greatness and folly than it was a novel and, like the book, the movie lacks the necessary structure to make for effective storytelling.  To accommodate for the century of time the movie intends to cover in less than two hours’ time, the story jumps ahead through the decades, stopping at key points for dramatic vignettes.  At each stop we are introduced to new characters, though some of the older ones sometimes remain.  But we never stay long enough to feel any emotional connection to the characters or their conflicts.  The viewer is unable to get involved in the movie on anything more than an intellectual level because of the overly ambitious enormity of the narrative.  It is unfortunately a glaring shortcoming that ultimately weakens the impact of the messages Wells and the filmmakers try to convey.

Most Memorable Scene

Once the movie jumps into the twenty-first century the viewer is treated to a montage of special effects meant to introduce us to the utopian civilization that has finally arisen out of the earlier dark ages brought on by war and disease.  It is a world dominated by technology, science, and sterility.  The use of various effects, often multiple techniques in the same shot, allows this moment of the movie to retain some of its original “wow” factor.

My Rating: 2.5 out of 5

THE MAN WHO SHOT LIBERTY VALANCE (1962)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Western

Director: John Ford

Cast: James Stewart / John Wayne / Lee Marvin

Plot

A U.S. Senator returns to the Western town where he made his reputation and reveals the long-hidden secret behind his legendary rivalry with the dangerous killer Liberty Valance.

What I Liked

Much has been made about the moral complexity of “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance,” and with good reason.  Much like “The Searchers” (also directed by John Ford) this film pulls back at least some of the curtain of myth and simplicity presented in the Hollywood Westerns that preceded it.  In fact, it is sort of a precursor to the more mature Westerns to come, such as “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” and “The Assassination of Jesse James,” in which the heroes of the films are incapable of living up to the legends surrounding them.  Also like in those other two films, this one represents the American West at a bittersweet moment in history, when the Old West (represented by John Wayne’s Tom Doniphan) was beginning to give way to the coming of law and order (represented by Jimmy Stewart’s Ransom Stoddard).  Wayne’s mythological cowboy hero, as a man who is his own law, is on the fast track to obsolete and realizes it.  Yet the entire film, from start to finish, laments the loss of the old ways, even as it recognizes the necessity of the new.  In short, thanks to Ford’s ever-maturing approach to the Western, there’s more underlying complexity in “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance,” than in the vast majority of the Hollywood Westerns that preceded it.

What I Didn’t Like

For all that it challenged, the movie still needed to remain viable box office entertainment for the masses.  That meant adhering to certain preconceived notions held by the film-going audience of its era.  The big name actors all stick pretty much to the types we’re used to seeing from them.  Stewart is the wide-eyed crusader who is honest to a fault.  Wayne is the brawny man of action.  Lee Marvin is a tough-talking, violent badass.  And Andy Devine is the comic relief, a well-meaning buffoon.  One could see all that as perfect casting, but in a film that questions so much about American myth-making, it would have been nice to see these major stars break from their own myths.  Visually, the film still exhibits much of the silliness that was commonplace in Westerns of the period.  The streets and people are all too clean; the clothing and sets too new looking.  “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend” says a character in the film.  It’s the most famous line of the movie and the sentiment informs the entire film, thematically.  In the case of “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance,” there’s still much more legend than fact; and, in the early 1960's, audiences were absolutely fine with that.

Most Memorable Scene

Jimmy Stewart’s character gets a not-so-warm welcome from Liberty Valance and his gang early in the film.  It’s a rude awakening for Stewart as to what he’s up against with his arrival in the West and introduces the conflict that will define his character’s arc through the rest of the film.  It’s all surprisingly violent and sadistic for a film of the period.  It is a nice grab for the viewer’s attention after a fairly drawn-out and dull prologue.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5

ORDINARY PEOPLE (1980)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Drama

Director: Robert Redford

Cast: Timothy Hutton / Donald Sutherland / Mary Tyler Moore

Plot

Troubled by a tragedy from the past, the members of an otherwise normal suburban family struggle to cope with their loss and relate to one another.

What I Liked

So apparently there’s still anger among certain cinephiles that “Ordinary People” beat out “Raging Bull” for the Best Picture Oscar.  While Scorsese is my favorite director and “Raging Bull” is regarded as one of his undisputed masterpieces, I have to say, I do kind of get why “Ordinary People” was picked.  As a fan of Marty, DeNiro and boxing, the visual character study of Jake LaMotta will always be more entertaining for me, but “Raging Bull” relies so much on shock value and style that it can at times feel as overbearing and brutish as its subject.  Meanwhile, “Ordinary People” is a much more subtle film that is strongest in its moments of silence and simplicity.

To put it another way, “Ordinary People” was far less flashy than “Raging Bull” and dealt with some truths that many viewers might have still feel hit unnervingly close to home.  It is a film that deals largely with what goes unsaid, the conflict played out in frightened stares, nervous gestures, and uncomfortable silences.  That description might make it seem boring, but I personally could not stop watching the movie, thanks to a perfectly paced script with well-rendered, relatable characters.

The fact that every actor with a speaking part is perfectly cast and plays their role flawlessly certainly helps the film retain its intense emotional impact more than thirty years after its release.  In fact, to me, the great Oscar travesty that year was not that this movie beat out “Raging Bull” for Best Picture, but that Timothy Hutton was forced to settle for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar.  Hutton’s character, the anxiety-ridden and depressed teenager Conrad Jarrett is absolutely the main character of the story and Hutton gets far more screen time than either of the more famous people who got top billing in the film (Mary Tyler Moore and Donald Sutherland).  So how exactly did Hutton get demoted to being a supporting actor in the eyes of the Academy?  It is really his career-making performance that is the crux of the film’s plot, conflict, and emotional resonance.

What I Didn’t Like

Particularly when viewed all these years later, with psychology and dysfunctional families very familiar themes in American pop culture, “Ordinary People” never feels particularly original, at least not on the surface.  Even with its title, the filmmakers rely on a movie convention that was already cliché by 1980: the secrets haunting a seemingly perfect suburban neighborhood/household and the myth of “normalcy.”  Charles Laughton, Alfred Hitchcock, Stanley Kramer, Mike Nichols, and John Carpenter had all mined similar themes in various ways previously.  But none did so with the touching realism and absence of ego that director Robert Redford accomplishes here.  His movie is the epitome of substance over style.

Some of the scenes involving Conrad meeting his psychiatrist (played by Judd Hirsch) also now feel a bit silly, full of overacting and cliché confrontations that might have very well felt poignant back in 1980.  The prevalence of therapy as a plot device in film means that these scenes don’t feel as special today as they might have then.

Most Memorable Scene

Hutton’s lunch meeting with an old friend from the hospital has much of that unspoken conflict I mentioned earlier.  There’s a great deal that is revealed here about Conrad here without much being said.  Here are two old friends meeting one another again, separated by time and distance from where they had first come to know one another.  The circumstances of their pasts and their own personal problems prove too strong for either one of them to break through so that they can once again communicate with one another the way they used to.  This movie if filled with tragic failures to communicate, but this one will prove the most tragic of all.

My Rating: 4.5 out of 5

CARRIE (1976)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Horror

Director: Brian De Palma

Cast: Sissy Spacek / Piper Laurie / Betty Buckley

Plot

Shy social outcast Carrie White struggles to understand and control her telekinetic abilities as the high school prom approaches.

What I Liked

*spoiler alert*

My above plot description doesn’t really do justice to the complexity and uniqueness of “Carrie.”  Loaded with underlying commentary about everything from religion, puberty and conformity to parenthood, sexuality, and suburbia, this is one of those movies that can be too easily overlooked as cheap shock value when it is in fact one of the most mature and multi-faceted horror films I have ever seen.

One of the best things about “Carrie” is that the film breaks so many conventions of the horror genre and yet its status as a supreme example of that genre is undeniable.  Take a look at other top horror films of the 1970s (for example, “The Exorcist,” “Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” and “Halloween”) and you’ll find some elements in common.  The killer is the villain.  The protagonist is pursued by, but ultimately escapes from, evil. Frights, shocks, and deaths abound, from start to finish.  None of these apply to “Carrie.”  Here the title character is the only killer, and yet the true villains are her shallow, bullying classmates, who become her victims.  Likewise, our protagonist is the one, ultimately, from whom everyone else must run.  And, most interestingly, the film is almost devoid of the standard horror shock value until its infamous climax (which certainly makes up for lost time).  Until then, we are simply watching a suburban (if supernatural) teen drama.  This isn’t to say there aren’t many hallmarks of horror still present.  The ignorant but well-meaning adults; the religious themes; the focus on sex and sexuality; they’re all very familiar elements (clichés, even) of horror.

Despite its lack of obvious shock elements, “Carrie” is nonetheless haunting from start to finish in large part thanks to Sissy Spacek’s devastating performance.  She conjures up so much feeling from and for her character through the eerie combination of vulnerability and rage that she brings to Carrie, that the movie feels like horror the whole time, without much scary taking place on screen but one actor’s total mastery of her character.  Mentions should also be made of Piper Laurie who is plenty scary as Carrie’s religious zealot mother.

What I Didn’t Like
*spoiler alert*

There’s not much to complain about.  Perhaps one could say the movie is a little slow compared to what a modern horror viewer might expect, but I didn’t feel that slowness at all.  This is just one of those movies which can hypnotize the viewer through its mood and characters.

The only part of the movie that bothers me when watching it is the ending.  Not the whole high-school-gym-bloodbath part.  Love that.  It’s most of what follows.  Mom being stabbed in a position to look like she’s Christ crucified.  The Fall of the House of Usher collapse.  The silly rise-from-the-grave dream sequence at the conclusion.  In a matter of the few closing minutes, director Brian De Palma and screenwriter Lawrence Cohen cave to silliness and cliché, cheapening an otherwise flawless film.

Most Memorable Scene

No contest here.  Even if you haven’t seen the movie, I’m sure you already know what scene in Carrie stands out from all the others.  So why bother saying it.

My Rating: 4.5 out of 5

MURIEL'S WEDDING (1994)

Country: Australia

Genre(s): Comedy

Director: P.J. Hogan

Cast: Toni Collette / Rachel Griffiths / Bill Hunter

Plot

Insecure and socially awkward Muriel, who is obsessed with ABBA music and planning an imaginary wedding for herself, steals money from her father to go on a dream vacation.  There she befriends adventurous and confident Rhonda, who helps her learn to believe in herself.

What I Liked

The best films coming out of New Zealand and Australia in the late 1980s and early 1990s all have a unique quality in common.  They may all have different plots, characters, and even completely different genres.  Still, whether we’re talking about the movies of Peter Jackson, Baz Luhrmann, or P.J. Hogan, the films all have a stylish in-your-face quirkiness that sets them apart from films from other parts of the world or other eras.  The movies made by all three directors feature loud, almost cartoonish characters presented in extreme close-up.  The dress, behavior, and even language of these characters are garish to the extreme and the filmmaking at times matches that gaudiness.  The benefit of this is that the films fascinate the eye, sometimes even during more mundane scenes.  Hardly a minute passes without something off-kilter or downright bizarre flashing across the screen.

In the case of writer-director P.J. Hogan’s “Muriel’s Wedding,” the plot is certainly more down-to-Earth and mainstream than what was typical of early output from Jackson or Luhrmann.  Not that the story lacks for off-the-wall encounters and twists, but it always comes back to the relatable struggles of everyday living and Muriel’s charming quest to discover happiness. Personally, I rather enjoy the gross-out-effects and comic book intensity of Peter Jackson’s early cult classics, but that said, it’s no wonder that “Muriel’s Wedding” had a broader international appeal upon release than something like Jackson’s “Bad Taste.”  The filmmakers mine the awkward and quirky moments of life in a none-too-subtle way, but always maintain a high level of sentimentality in order to maintain an emotional hold over their audience.

Of course without the enchanting performance of Toni Collette in the title role, this film would almost certainly have been forgotten long before it had the chance to leave Australian cinemas.  Collette’s well rounded performance brings a depth to a character who, in the hands of another actor, might have been a one-dimensional bore.  She gives us a Muriel we can feel sorry for, relate to, root for, wonder about, and laugh at.  Really most of the main roles are filled by talented actors, but it is Collette who makes the film memorable.

And any movie with a town in it called Porpoise Spit gets an automatic extra half point from me.

What I Didn’t Like

I. Hate. ABBA's music.  Ok, enough on that.

Also, while the frenetic, hyper-bold filmmaking of Australian/New Zealand films that I referenced earlier, while admittedly dazzling to the eye, can be somewhat off-putting too.  At times it felt like Hogan wasn’t sure what kind of movie he was making.  The emotions swing from pure comedy to gaudy trash cinema to heart-rending family drama without any smooth transition at all, which is again common to films of its place and era.  At times these swerves in direction feel a bit too raucous to endure.

Most Memorable Scene

Collette killed me in the scene where she meets her future husband, a handsome athlete.  I couldn’t help but be embarrassed for both characters as Muriel’s excitement and awkwardness just goes into overdrive and turns into a horror-show for her panicked groom-to-be.  Definitely one of the funniest moments I’ve witnessed so far on this project.

My Rating: 3.5 out 5

THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE (1946)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Crime / Drama / Romance

Director: Tay Garnett

Cast: John Garfield / Lana Turner / Cecil Kellaway

Plot

Drifter Frank Chambers takes a job at a roadside diner, only to fall for his boss’s beautiful young wife.  When an affair begins between them, the two lovers plot to kill her husband.

What I Liked

Though it features many of the hallmarks of film noir (flashback narration, the drifter protagonist, a femme fatale, and tragic fate), “The Postman Always Rings Twice” has some unique qualities that have helped it endure the test of time while many other films of the era have been forgotten.  Of the noir films I’ve seen, “Postman” stands out for its encroachment upon the traditions of domesticity.  Where most noir films involve low life criminals, shysters, and con-men milling about urban environs, “Postman” has none of these characters and takes place mostly in a home/diner outside of the city.  We watch the same darkness that inhabits those other noirs invade a marriage.  The only other noir I know of that treads in similar territory is “Double Indemnity,” but even so, there are important differences here.  In “Postman,” Lana Turner is a young woman who in a moment of weakness married a much older man for money and now feels trapped.  Cecil Kellaway is that older man, a drunkard who is more concerned with his account books than his wife’s desires or dreams.  Into this warped dynamic comes John Garfield’s character, his youth and attentiveness proving the forbidden fruit that transforms Lana Turner from a domesticated (if bored) housewife to a conniving murderess.  That’s another interesting twist on the cliché; Garfield’s character is as much responsible for perverting Turner’s as hers is of his.  In a typical noir, like the genre-defining “Double Indemnity,” the woman is always the corruptor.  Not so here.  Turner is indeed flirtatious and manipulative, but it is her desire for Garfield which drives her to kill, rather than the pure cynicism that drives most femme fatales.

One of the best parts about watching old movies like this, even the darker-themed ones, is the Americana.  The big, shiny 1940s cars; roadside diner; the jukebox; the clothing and uniforms; from the perspective of a person born more than thirty years after this film was made, it is hard to believe this world existed anywhere but in the movies.  And certainly a great deal of it was invented by Hollywood.  Still, it was a reflection, albeit a glamorized one, of a version of America that has long since died.  Thus the film has taken on a nostalgic beauty in the years since its release that only compliments the poetic tragedy of its story.

What I Didn’t Like

As can be inferred from the paragraph above, “Postman” is very much a film of its time.  It’s all too made-up to be believable.  Lana Turner is virtually flawless in appearance from start to finish, both in make-up and wardrobe and in lighting and cinematography; the supporting characters are one-dimensional; some of the acting is shamelessly predictable.

Most Memorable Scene

Lana Turner’s radiance dominates the screen any time she’s on it.  There are some classic, top-lit, soft-lens, close-ups interspersed through the film that play up her iconic beauty.  However, it’s her debut in the film, when she first comes down the stairs into the diner and encounters John Garfield’s character that her seductive allure is at its most powerful.  Instead of her immaculate face, it’s the movement of her body that plays games with both Garfield and the audience.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5

A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE (1951)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Drama

Director: Elia Kazan

Cast : Vivien Leigh / Marlon Brando / Kim Hunter

Plot

Impoverished and homeless, eccentric Southern belle Blanche DuBois comes to stay with her sister Stella and her husband Stanley in their New Orleans apartment.  Blanche, disturbed and manipulative, and Stanley, fiery and violent, despise one another, competing in a personal power struggle for control over Stella.

What I Liked

Although I have seen the young Brando in other movies (“On the Waterfront,” for example), it wasn’t until I sat and watched “A Streetcar Named Desire” that I could truly witness what made him such a sensation upon his arrival on the American film scene.  One needs only to compare his performance with that of star Vivien Leigh to understand the one-man revolution (and revelation) he was to film acting.  Leigh, one of the legends of the old style of acting is a study in preposterous facial expressions and exaggerated gesticulations which always seem like leftovers from the silent era.  This all made her perfect to play the ruined neurotic that is Blanche DuBois and thus is no hindrance to the film’s success as a drama.  However, in Brando we have a man who is utterly believable and wholly natural in the skin of his character.  His performance is rounded out by both seething passion and subtle complexity.

Of course, there was more to Brando than simply his acting.  Karl Malden, another method actor, plays a meaty supporting role with just as much artistry as Brando.  Yet Malden, while a greatly admired actor of the era, never achieved Brando’s legendary status.  Certainly a great deal of that had to do with the young Marlon’s sensual good looks.  Particularly in the first several scenes he and the filmmakers do a great deal to play up his sexual attractiveness.  I never truly understood why Brando was considered a sex symbol in his youth until I saw this movie.  Lots of times I hear women talking about how handsome and actor is and I look at the guy and think, “Really?  He just looks like a normal dude to me.”  Watching “Streetcar,” I get why women fell for Brando.  I’m a straight male, but I can admit the man was definitely gorgeous.  But there was even still more than looks.  Lots of people are good looking, but never magnetize audiences the way Brando could.  Some performers, whatever their medium, just have that undefinable “It” element.  ‘Charisma’ is a word often thrown around to describe it, or ‘screen presence.’  Both descriptions fall short of capturing those who are truly great at that unnamable quality.  Brando is one of those greats.  Vivien Leigh was one of the biggest stars of her generation, with loads of her own on-screen charisma, and she gives one of the most iconic performance of her career.  On paper, her character is also more interesting than Stanley.  Yet Brando absolutely outshines her in each and every moment they share the same frame.

What I Didn’t Like

Elia Kazan is one of the great directors of American films, though he is undeservedly left out of the first names to roll off of the typical movie fan’s lips.  Coppola, Chaplin, Hitchcock, Scorsese, Spielberg, and Ford almost always get mentioned long before Kazan on any list, yet his filmography (“Streetcar,” “On the Waterfront,” and “East of Eden,” among others) can compare rather favorably against most of those other men.  Yet Kazan’s talent was in his ability to get the most out of his actors to tell the stories, not in cinematographic technique, style, or innovation.  “Streetcar” in particular is shot with a matter-of-fact, straight-ahead simplicity that was obviously intended but nonetheless dry.  I imagine Kazan’s unembellished approach was a way for him to focus on the stark reality he intended to present.  He did not want flourish and dazzle to rob his films of their authenticity.  His films are about the characters and their relationships, not style.  Good for him.  But would it have hurt to give us an interesting camera angle just once?

Part of the problem with watching this movie now is the influence it had on later cinema and television.  So much of “Streetcar” is now evident in lesser films and cheap soap operas that the clichés of its imitators have dampened the impact of the drama in the original.  I first started watching this film with my wife, but about halfway through we were both falling asleep.  When it came time to finish, my wife declined to watch the rest, saying she just wasn’t “into it.”  I can’t blame her.  “Streetcar” is now an intellectual treat, a document of the development of cinema as an art.

Most Memorable Scene

The sensuality of “Streetcar” reaches an early climax when Stella and Stanley make up following a row shortly after Blanche’s arrival.  In the steamy rain of a humid New Orleans night, Stanley lures Stella out of hiding with his desperate cries.  She is drawn hopelessly down to him until they clasp against each other in an impassioned embrace, the muscles of Brando’s glistening in the lamplight as Stella’s hands cling to his flesh with unbridled desire.  Even today the sexual charge of the scene is impressive, considering how jaded we are today with flesh and sex on TV.  Kazan and his actors achieve a highly erotic scene that stands the test of time without resorting to nudity, sex, or shock value.

My Rating: 4 out of 5

CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON (2000)

A.K.A.: Wo Hu Cang Long

Country: Taiwan / Hong Kong / China

Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Epic / Romance

Director: Ang Lee

Cast: Chow Yun-Fat / Michelle Yeoh / Zhang Ziyi

Plot

Master warriors Li Mu Bai and Yu Shi Lien embark on a quest to recover the stolen Green Destiny sword.

What I Liked

“Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” really is one of those rare films that truly has something for everyone.  Whether you’re a fan of well-acted drama, gorgeous cinematography, epic adventure, star-crossed romance, period costumes, dazzling special effects, or martial arts action, this film delivers top flight entertainment, whatever your pleasure.  It’s sumptuous, sensuous, radiant, intriguing, and mystifying escapism delivered with consummate artistry.  In short, if you can think of a positive adjective for a movie, chances are “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” fits the definition.

I’m overdoing it, you say?  Well, for those of you who have seen it, go back, watch it again, and then come back and tell me if it did not fit any of the descriptive words I applied in the paragraph above.  For those who haven’t seen it, all I can say is you’re missing out on one of the real treasures of epic film-making.

If I remember right, this was one of the first three DVDs I ever bought, knowing that its impressive imagery was the perfect match for digital technology.  DVD, Blu-Ray, CGI, 3-D, and all kinds of other technology have provided us with some dazzling visuals in movie-making since this movie’s release over a decade ago, but “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” has not lost one iota of its spectacle.  If anything, with the film industry now overloaded with CGI and gimmicks, this movie’s minimal use of computer-aided effects and reliance on real landscape, stunts, and actors emphasizes the specialness of the experience.

What I Disliked

There are times where the movie suffers from the cheesy, none-too-subtle acting common to lower budget Kung Fu movies.  I sometimes wonder if the actors in those films realize that the silent era, with its over-zealous gestures and silly faces, is over.  However, the actors who play the five-or-so primary characters definitely have the chops and subtlety to bring empathetic, heartfelt emotion to a story that requires deserves it; which actually allows the goofier acting of the supporting cast to be somewhat endearing.

Most Memorable Scene

Wow, now this is a tough call.  Let me think a minute.  Okay.  It would have to be the best fight scene, of course.  There are plenty of excellent fights to choose from, but, for me, the standout is when Yu Shu Lien and Jen Yu actually go head-to-head inside a large room.  Jen Yu has the Green Destiny and Yu Shu Lien switches from weapon to weapon.  The whole fight is done with thrilling speed and precision, accented by such satisfying effects, fraught with such personal drama, and shot with such technical flair that it just leaves me in cinematic nirvana no matter how many times I watch it.

My Rating: 5 out of 5

LITTLE CAESAR (1931)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Crime

Director: Mervyn LeRoy

Cast: Edward G. Robinson / Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. / Stanley Fields

Plot

Charismatic tough guy Rico Bandello rises from stickup gunman to crime lord of Chicago’s North Side on ambition and intimidation, as the police and his rivals work to bring him down.

What I Liked

Perfect casting doesn’t get any more perfect than Edward G. Robinson’s getting picked from near obscurity to play the quintessential gangster movie anti-hero, Rico “Little Caesar” Bandello.  From his facial resemblance to the reigning Chicago crime kingpin Al Capone, to his trademark sneer, to the machine-gun-fire pace of his streetwise banter and gestures, Robinson created the blueprint for virtually every gangster lead to appear in American films for multiple generations to come.  Sure, eventually the persona became an oft-parodied cliché, but that was years down the road and had less to do with Robinson’s performance than it did with later actors imitating it and failing.  In 1931, Robinson’s Bandello was regarded as fresh, captivating, and frighteningly authentic.  Even all these years later, the ferocity he gives Rico lends the movie a dazzling excitement that is lacking in even the best films of the same period.  Robinson is one of my favorite actors of the 1930s to the 1950s and this is his most iconic performance.

The character of Little Caesar wasn’t the only element of the movie that was so definitive.  “Little Caesar” is far from the first gangster picture to be made, but it was the first to put all of the elements we now recognize as defining the genre into a single package.  Aside from the charismatic-if-demented anti-hero lead, “Little Caesar” explores the hierarchical nature of organized crime, it’s perversion of liassez-faire capitalism, and also presents the police (typically hero figures in other films) as being almost as unscrupulous as the so-called bad guys.  Perhaps more important than all of that, it marked the debut of the Thompson Sub-Machine gun in motion pictures.  Not really used as often in urban gangsterism as Hollywood would have us believe (they were too damned expensive), the gun was nonetheless a wonderfully loud and destructive weapon that electrified audiences at the dawn of the sound era.  Kicking off a spate of gangster pictures that would thrill Depression-era moviegoers (“Public Enemy,” “Scarface,” “Angels with Dirty Faces,” “The Roaring Twenties”), “Little Caesar” remained the undisputed benchmark against all gangster films would be measured until the release of “The Godfather” more than forty years later, and for good reason.

What I Didn’t Like

As compelling as Robinson’s performance was, he was bogged down by some less than dynamic co-stars.  Particularly hard to endure is Thomas Jackson as police Sgt. Flaherty, Rico’s ultimate nemesis.  The character of Flaherty is clearly designed to be a foil for Rico, as obsessive and maniacal as the crime boss, but without his charisma.  Apparently Jackson took this to mean he should play the role as the cop were a robot.  His lifeless performance and his awkwardly phrased dialogue might have been intended to give Flaherty some kind of Depression-era grittiness, but just falls horribly flat.  Several other characters are dismally cliché (handsome and dashing Joe Massera and Igor-like Otero, for example) but one gets the sense this had less to do with the performances of the actors, who do the best they can with the material, than it does with the lack of imagination in scriptwriters.  Not so with Thomas Jackson.

Most Memorable Scene

*spoiler alert!*

“Mother of mercy, is this the end of Rico?!?”  It’s a bullet-riddled and somewhat puzzling final scene that remains the most quoted and referenced moment of the movie.  But I think there’s another that probably has more to do with the film’s impact and continued resonance.  As the film reaches its climax, a now wealthy and successful Rico confronts his old friend Joe, who rebuffs his offer to join his gang and flees the scene.  The camera then zooms in from a low vantage point on sneering gangster chewing his cigar and standing resplendent in a dapper suit at the top of the steps in his extravagant penthouse, alone but clearly wrapped in the trappings of power.  He is silent but murderous thoughts are aflame in his eyes.  It’s the perfect image of the Hollywood gangster, the image to which every filmmaker and actor who has ever made a gangster movie since has aspired.  One can’t help but think that even a few real life gangsters have used that very image as a blueprint, or at least, a goal.

My Rating: 5 out of 5

SHOOT THE PIANO PLAYER (1960)

A.K.A.: Tirez Sur le Pianiste

Country: France

Genre(s): Comedy / Crime / Drama

Director: Francois Truffaut

Cast: Charles Aznavour / Marie Dubois / Albert Remy

Plot

Restaurant pianist Charlie is pursued by two thugs who are looking for his low-life brothers.  Meanwhile, Charlie begins a relationship with waitress Lena, with whom he hopes to escape.

What I Liked

Sports fans might be familiar with the term ‘intangibles’ as it refers to those qualities in an athlete beyond the immediately measurable physical traits, the psychological and personality elements of an athlete that allow him or her to succeed where others with similar physical traits might fail.  Intangibles can exist in a movie, too.  A carefree mood runs throughout “Shoot the Piano Player.”  There’s not one single element or moment one can point to that is the source of that mood, but it is nonetheless ever-present and makes the film undeniably enjoyable.  Taken individually, the various facets of the film might seem run of the mill.  The plot is simple and derivative.  Character development is used only sparingly.  Everyday dress and locales are used.  In short, no single thing about the movie is special.  Except that coolness that inhabits every scene.

While it is not the sole source of the film’s unnamable entertainment value, certainly lead actor Charles Aznavour, who is also a very accomplished professional musician, deserves tremendous kudos for his performance of Charlie.  Thanks to Aznavour, Charlie constantly exhibits that same casual approach to life that permeates the film as a whole.  Surrounded by a supporting cast of characters that are intentional rip-offs from B-movies and film noir, Charlie’s laid-back strangeness makes him a compelling post-modern hero.

That intangible quality in “Shoot the Piano Player” has clearly had an influence on the work of many important filmmakers to follow director Truffaut.  The film’s underlying cleverness informs everything from the coolness and spontaneity of Jean-Luc Goddard, to the found soundtracks and streetwise neurotic-ism of Martin Scorsese, to the  self-referential wildness of Quentin Tarrantino.

What I Didn’t Like

Probably because of the ways in which later filmmakers built upon what Truffaut pioneered, the film does not feel quite so revolutionary on first viewing as it certainly would have in 1960.  Some of Truffaut’s groundbreaking innovations in his approach to filmmaker (improvised plot, for example) have been explored by later directors whose films I watched before “Shoot the Piano Player.”  But this movie was indeed one of the first to push those boundaries and it remains a pleasure to watch, so it wouldn’t be fair for me to harp on this too much.

Most Memorable Scene

I most enjoyed the cinematography of a montage detailing Charlie and Lena’s trip out of the city and into the countryside.  Gorgeous use of light, camera angles, setting, and soundtrack made me long for the beautiful freedom of a road trip.

My Rating: 4.5 out of 5

CRIES AND WHISPERS (1972)

A.K.A.: Viskningar och Rop

Country: Sweden

Genre(s): Drama

Director: Ingmar Bergman

Cast: Kari Sylwan / Harriet Andersson / Ingrid Thulin

Plot

Three estranged sisters, Agnes, Karin, and Maria are reunited as Agnes battles cancer.  As death draws closer, the sisters struggle with their inability to emotionally connect with one another.  Instead, Agnes finds comfort and compassion in Anna, her devoted maid.

What I Liked

The first element that will strike any viewer of “Cries and Whispers” is Sven Nykvist’s Academy Award winning cinematography.  Right away, we’re treated to the gorgeous melancholia of a country estate in the cascading light of the dewy early morning.  These images are then contrasted with intensely close studies of a dozen or so ornate clocks, the camera peering deeply into every crevice and swirl of their designs.  As the drama itself begins to actually play out, the visual design fills our eyes with two colors so frequently that they feel almost in competition with one another: deep, bloody reds and pure, angelic whites.

The only break we get from those colors are the faces that often completely fill the screen.  Each of the four main characters are shown in such extreme close-up that the viewer almost feels as though the character’s personal space is being invaded.  We are made the uncomfortable witnesses to every twitch of the mouth, furrow of the brow or flutter of the eyelash, pointing out the emotional intensity of truly becoming close to a person physically and emotionally.  Nykvist and director Ingmar Bergman certainly chose the perfect approach to shooting a movie about the lack of true closeness between human beings and the agony experienced in trying to mend that rift.

Of course, if you’re going to repeatedly fill your screen with the faces of your characters you better have some interesting characters and some capable actors to play them.  Thankfully, both are present in “Cries and Whispers.”  Each sister, and Anna too, has a complex psychology augmented by flashback and fantasy scenes that illuminate her individual struggles, faults, and perspectives.  The characters are so wonderfully developed over the full length of the film that at times it really feels more like a novel more than a film.  Most importantly, the performances are absolutely above criticism.  Each actress seems to truly understand her character and successfully uses that character to illustrate the frail line between passion and restraint that is the crux of the entire film, including its title.  The cinematography and performances combine to make the film almost painful to watch at times for how honestly and palpably it displays the dilemma of humanity.

What I Didn’t Like

*spoiler alert!*

Symbolism pervades nearly every moment of “Cries and Whispers,” to the point where it eventually feels heavy handed.  A film cannot be interesting on symbolism alone.  There needs to be some kind of emotional investment, as well as intellectual.  That emotional investment is slow to develop through the early portion of the movie.  Bergman seems so intent on getting across the dysfunction at the heart of the sisters’ relationships and their shortcomings as individuals, we have very little chance to get to like them before the conflict gets going.  We certainly feels sympathy for cancer-stricken Agnes, of course, but never get to truly feel for her sisters until she passes away about half way through.   Now Bergman does a great job of making up for lost time by doing a great deal to explore the two living sisters and exploring their psychologies, but it would have been nice to have had this happen earlier.  It certainly would have made the first half of the film more engaging.  As it is, you don’t really have an action packed plot; more sympathy for the characters might have made the film less dull.

Most Memorable Scene

Toward the film’s end Bergman gives us what is probably a dream sequence, but whether or not the events on screen were truly part of a dream or not is never explicitly explained.  Instead we are left to wonder if the nightmarish tragedy we witness is the figment of Anna’s imagination or is actually some supernatural happening that the women choose to never speak of again.  Either way, the scene is a heartbreaking illustration of the horrors of mankind’s failure to embrace love.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5