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

THE PHANTOM CARRIAGE (1921)

A.K.A.: Korkarlen

Country: Sweden

Genre(s): Drama / Fantasy

Director: Victor Sjostrom

Cast: Victor Sjostrom / Astrid Holm / Hilda Borgstrom

Plot

Drunken vagrant David Holm is visited by the Grim Reaper on New Year’s Eve and made to repent for his wasted life.

What I Liked

I really want to like “The Phantom Carriage,” because there’s a great deal to admire in this dark fantasy film.  Most obvious is the effect described in the film’s title.  Through the use of double-exposure, director/star Victor Sjostrom pioneered the now standard look of spirits and ghosts in motion pictures.  The Grim Reaper, his horse, his carriage, and his passenger are all partially transparent images who pass unseen down city streets and through building walls in search of souls.  Though the technique has been copied and imitated countless times since and though it has now been replaced by the use of CGI, somehow the ghostly images in “The Phantom Carriage” remain chilling, even enhanced by silence and graininess of the faded black and white images of silent film, which can be unsettling for the modern viewer.

Also interesting is the low-key, realistic performances by the actors, at least in comparison with the flamboyant theatrics coming out of early Hollywood at about the same time.  European silent cinema seems to focus more on the subtleties of human body movement and facial expressions than its American counterpart, for the acting here is not all that different from the famously understated performances found in the films of Sjostrom’s Danish contemporary, Carl Theodor Dreyer (“Vampyr,” “The Passion of Joan of Arc”).  I imagine –though I don’t know – that Dreyer would have admired “The Phantom Carriage” very much.  Unfortunately, that same restraint I admire also got in the way of my truly enjoying the movie.

What I Didn’t Like

It took me a very long time to get through this movie.  Weeks.  It’s not that it’s very long, clocking in at just over an hour and a half in length.  It’s just that it felt so unbearably long.  When the Grim Reaper is not present, most of the film is spent on a lengthy backstory telling of David Holm’s descent into loneliness, sin, and poverty and of the idealistic young woman who tries to redeem him.  The problem is that the story is far too long and uninteresting, particularly when it is presented as a series of silent conversations interrupted by constant title cards.  With the exception of a few nail-biting moments toward the end, the film is made up almost entirely of these conversations.  They probably played much better to a 1921 crowd but this desensitized twenty-first century viewer was frustrated and disappointed.

Most Memorable Scene

The first appearance of the phantom carriage and its driver is easily the image that will most often pop up in the memory whenever the film is mentioned and for good reason.  The effect is what really makes the film unique.  Incidentally, there is also a scene where an enraged Holm, uses an axe to chop his way through a locked wooden door to get at his terrified wife.  I was waiting for the “Heeeeere’s Johnny!” title card but was again disappointed.

My Rating: 2 out of 5

TOP GUN (1986)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Action / War

Director: Tony Scott

Cast: Tom Cruise / Anthony Edwards / Kelly McGillis

Plot

Pilot Peter “Maverick” Mitchell is sent to the Navy’s top flight academy, but his loose cannon attitude causes friction with his fellow students and his instructors.  Things become more complicated when he falls for a civilian aeronautics expert who works there.

What I Liked

In some ways, “Top Gun” should have been buried in a time capsule in 1986. For, if I had to pick one single movie to illustrate what passed for mainstream entertainment in 1980s America, I would probably have to pick this one.    From the hit soundtrack featuring Kenny Loggins and Berlin, to the big budget production values, to the mind-numbing simplicity of its plot, the movie is a distillation of what worked in earlier blockbusters into the perfect product.  The filmmakers constructed a movie that is pure dazzle, full of pretty young people, lots of gorgeous sunset photography, and, best of all, aerial combat stunts and effects that surpassed anything previously filmed.

It might sound like the above praise is really not-so-veiled criticism.  Here’s the thing, though; all of it still works to full effect more than a quarter century later.  “Top Gun” remains as potent of a narcotic for the eyeballs as it was all those years ago.  Somehow this very dated movie has aged remarkably well, and that’s no accident.  For the filmmakers certainly knew that watching beautiful movie stars, fantastic action sequences play out against a brainless plot has been the very source of Hollywood’s success since the silent era.  Those things have rarely been done to such technical precision as they were here.

One other observation.  Perhaps the reason this movie’s action sequences still thrill is that they were filmed with real cameras shooting real planes (for the most part) doing real maneuvers and stunts.  There are a lot of benefits to the CGI effects of today, but I wonder if they’ll age as well as the real thing has in the case of “Top Gun.”

What I Didn’t Like

Director Tony Scott used to make commercials, and it shows.  This whole movie is a great commercial for the military, and there’s nothing wrong with that in and of itself.  It’s just that it’s all too perfect.  Nobody’s hair is out of place and their teeth are spotless.  The characters and conflicts are as cliché as they come.  Everything is filmed against either a purple sunset or a clear blue sky.  Even the sex scene is filmed with such blue-tinted precision that eroticism is rendered nonexistent.  Who can really relate to any of that?  Nobody.  Scott’s skills as a commercial filmmaker, though, were used to make us want to be able to relate.  It might have all been farcical escapism, but we can’t help but wish it were true.

Most Memorable Scene

As I said before, nothing even remotely close to the aerial photography and action featured in this movie had been seen in motion pictures before.  Thus these are used to great effect in the opening action scene to hook the audience right away.  We are treated to some popcorn popping eye candy and get introduced to some of the key characters (except for the faceless, voiceless Middle Eastern enemy, of course) in a fun-to-watch dog fight that sets the tone for the rest of the film.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5

MAN BITES DOG (1992)

A.K.A.: C’est Arrive Pres De Chez Vous

Country: Belgium

Genre(s): Comedy / Crime

Director: Remy Belvaux / Andre Bonzel / Benoit Poelvoorde

Cast: Benoit Poelvoorde / Remy Belvaux / Jacqueline Poelvoorde-Pappaert

Plot

A film crew follows a serial killer, catching his murders on film, and eventually becoming accomplices in his crimes.

What I Liked

I do have an affinity for most anything subversive.  Any creative output that offends the norm or challenges preconceived notions automatically scores a point or two with me, regardless of quality.  That probably shouldn’t be the case, but it is what it is.  A black comedy if there ever was one, “Man Bites Dog” apparently caused quite a stir in Europe upon its release for its frank portrayal of murder, even of children and old ladies.  In fact, the film is nowhere near as bloody or gruesome as I expected but it does generate a certain chill in those of us who are not sociopaths.  This is done not through gore or graphicness but through the point-blank, no frills, un-glossy depiction of death.  Also disturbing is the casual regard given to the murders by the man committing them and the crew of filmmakers who follow him around.  They treat the killing of innocents like a craft rather than a crime, dwelling on the proper strategies of committing murder and never once the morality of it.

The character of the killer, Ben, might be the most realistic portrayal of a serial killer this side of “Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer,” released a few years earlier (and reviewed earlier in this blog).  Like Henry, Ben is absolutely devoid of a conscience and goes about his work with a passion.  In most other ways, though, Ben is the antithesis of Henry.  He is a talkative, flamboyant man with friends and family, compared to monosyllabic loner Henry.  Ben has the sociopath’s narcissism and incessantly babbles on to the camera about art, culture, and poetry, clearly believing that the world should be absolutely fascinated with him.  He is completely unaware that the pretentious mask he wears is not only boring but also absolutely transparent, as its plain to see that he is a man lacking not only a soul but also a personality.  While I still feel Henry is likely the more accurate portrayal of your standard serial killer, Ben is still a frighteningly believable character who isn’t easily forgotten.

What I Didn’t Like

A mockumentary it may be, but “Man Bites Dog” is no “Spinal Tap.”  With a few exceptions, its laughs are generated primarily either through shock value or subversion.  For all its intentional silliness and self-referential satire, the film never once got an audible laugh out of me.  Really just a few smirks.  I don’t really care what it intends to say about society (the world’s current fascination with “reality” TV does make the film seem prophetic), ultimately it really failed to entertain or enlighten me in any way.

Most Memorable Scene

Ben’s invasion of a suburban household stands out along with similar scenes in “A Clockwork Orange” and “Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer” as among the most hard-to-sit-through murder scenes I’ve witnessed.  Maybe my coming from a mostly standard suburban background makes scenes like this literally hit home at little harder, but it definitely makes for a “worst nightmare” level scenario for me.

My Rating: 2.5 out of 5

THE PALEFACE (1948)

Country: U.S.A.

Genre(s): Comedy / Western

Director: Norman McLeod

Cast: Bob Hope / Jane Russell / Robert Armstrong

Plot

Calamity Jane reluctantly accepts a job working in secret for the feds to uncover a gun smuggling ring.  Wanting to pose as a common pioneer woman on a wagon train, she marries cowardly and bungling dentist “Painless” Peter Potter.

What I Liked

Bob Hope carries this otherwise dismal attempt at comedy on his back.  He successfully plays off of the common notions of the American Western hero by playing a fool and a coward caught in the type of situations we’re used to seeing involve men like John Wayne or the Lone Ranger.  Bolstered by Hope's shamelessly goofball cut-ups, Painless Potter’s buffoonery provides some amusement in a movie that has not aged well.

What I Didn’t Like

My source book points out that “The Paleface” is too silly to take its racist depictions of Native Americans and historical inaccuracies seriously, and generally speaking it is correct.  One can no more criticize these elements of a film this goofy than one can criticize similar racism and stupidity in the “Hot Shots” or “Scary Movie” franchises.  The filmmakers could be said to be spoofing the very same elements that appear in serious films of those genres.  Besides, it is clear that all of it is done in fun and no harm is meant whatsoever.  But I do wonder if today’s Native Americans feel the same way when they watch Hope goof around over a pile of “Injun” corpses.

Anyway, my dislike of this movie had little to do with its political incorrectness.  I was more offended by the fact that the movie just wasn’t all that funny.  The jokes just do not stand the test of time.  Sure there was a silly line that made me smirk here and there (“Rigor mortis, here I come!” or “Brave men run in my family”).  But overall this movie does not deserve a spot among the 1001 elite.  I’m pretty sure that this movie was picked to compliment Hope’s status as one of the premier film comedians of his era and, since this is (unfortunately) one of his best, it was (also unfortunately) squeezed in.  Shit, I’m not even a Jane Russell fan.  The woman couldn’t act worth a damn and if she’s what passed for a sex symbol in the forties, I’m sure glad I live in the days of Salma Hayek and Scarlett Johansson.

Most Memorable Scene

When Potter mistakes Jane’s dead-eye shooting for his own, he soon transforms himself into a puff-chested Dude and swaggers into a local saloon.  What happens next you can probably already guess and it leads to a wonderful parody of the standard Western duel.  Hope is perfect here; maybe because he’s allowed to just do his thing without much interference from other actors or annoying constraints like plot.

My Rating: 1.5 out of 5

TO LIVE (1952)

A.K.A.: Ikiru

Country: Japan

Genre(s): Drama

Director: Akira Kurosawa

Cast: Takashi Shimura / Shin’ichi Himori / Yunosuke Ito

Plot

Stricken with stomach cancer, an old man regrets having spent the last three decades behind a desk and looks to find a purpose for his life in his final days.

What I Liked

*spoiler alert*

Enriched by the enthrallingly expressive face of lead Takashi Shimura, “To Live” returns inspiration and meaning to the old cliché that “it’s never too late.”  Shimura’s Mr. Watanabe is frighteningly pitiful and, more frighteningly, easy to empathize with.  Watanabe has closed himself off so thoroughly from the passions and beauty of life that his co-workers call him “The Mummy,” but Shimura does a fantastic job of embodying that description while defying cliché.  His shuffling gait, decrepit movements, and suffocated voice are in no way monstrous, but familiarly human.  Through Shimura, Watanabe is not a creature entirely devoid of soul, but a man on a quest to recover a long lost soul. 

In some ways he is less Mummy, than he is Odysseus.  Like the epic hero on his quest to find his way back home, Watanabe’s journey brings him through a series of mistakes, lessons, dark places, misfortunes, discoveries, and defeats.  His refusal to give up the journey and, once he discovers the true path, his conquering of every obstacle is inspiring.  It’s a simple story with a simple meaning, but one that has more to tell us than countless more complex tales.  “To Live” is a universal story that could have taken place in any era and any place, but it’s setting in post-War Japan does seem to have a special importance.  As Watanabe searches for a way back to living, director Akira Kurosawa places around him the gaudy sights and sounds of Japan’s quickly Americanizing society.  The image of the lonely old man in decades-old clothes hobbling against a background of shiny lights, drunken celebrants, and pretty young Japanese girls singing Rosemary Clooney’s “Come On-a My House” might be Kurosawa’s lament for what his people were losing in a rat race pursuit of money, convenience, and escapism.  That Watanabe is also seduced by this world but finds no joy there provides one of the film’s most haunting moments, when he sorrowfully sings an decades-old song to some befuddled young late-night revelers.

Though Watanabe’s journey ends with a personal satisfaction, Kurosawa in no way gives us a traditional happy ending, but rather one much more touching and thought-provoking.  After his death, the great message to be found in Watanabe’s success is thoroughly lost upon those he has left behind, who are too either too concerned with self-aggrandizement or too frightened by the lessons to be found in Watanabe’s quest to make any changes in their own lives.  Thus Kurosawa gives us a final scene that is hard to stomach as a parting warning to examine our own choices in life.

What I Disliked

Few movies are as flawless as “To Live.”

Most Memorable Scene: “I can’t afford to hate people.  I don’t have that kind of time.”  A mantra everyone should take up.

My Rating: 5 out of 5