Better...better...

...better than the last time.

Yup.  I'm on the fourth in a row that I wrote about last year...and I...I didn't like this one - at all - the first time I watched it, which was last year, when I was trying to get through the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).  That was a clever link...

Speaking of, wanna see the list as it currently stands?  Here's a link.  There are some columns in this I've neglected, but I'm a-gettin' there.

Film 80

80.  "The African Queen" (AFI Rank #65)

I still don't get the populist appeal of this film.  It's got star quality, for sure, but beyond that, it's a romantic comedy which takes place in a boat floating down a river in Africa.   It doesn't solve any great problems.  It doesn't present any great storytelling.  It doesn't have a great deal of tension.  It doesn't have much drama.  It doesn't have much comedy.  It doesn't have much plot.

Am I starting this negatively?  I am, aren't I?   I said I liked it better this time, and I'm going off on its problems - which means that I REALLY hated it last time.  I didn't hate it this time.  I actually kinda liked it.  I also liked "Notting Hill," but I wouldn't call that a great piece of cinema.

Since I'm a pretty smart guy, and since I think I am capable of understanding lots of things, I think I'm going to shoot this review towards the positive, as a method of, oh, I don't know, trying to justify why this film is on this list.  Maybe by the time I'm done I'll have some epiphany.  I doubt it.

As an aside...do you ever click on the links to the films' IMDB pages I put in every post?  It's that link in the title above.  If you do...check out the poster art for a bunch of these old time films.  They are so...WRONG.  Of particular interest (and comedy) to me are this one, "On The Waterfront" (with its RED MENACE); "Gone With The Wind," "Psycho," "All About Eve (which is JUST BARELY FOR LIKE 5 SECONDS about women and their men)," "The Maltese Falcon," and "Casablanca."  The last two kill me.  Bogart never has a gun that he doesn't take off someone else in "The Maltese Falcon," and he barely appears in his trench coat in "Casablanca."

Have you guessed that I'm filling space yet?

Might as well get on with this.  Last time I wrote about this, I complained that the soundtrack was out of sync in the opening scene with the church.  I was wrong.  Katharine Hepburn just can't sing.  That's not the filmmaker's fault.  John Huston directed this film, and it stars the aforementioned Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart as Rose and Charlie, respectively.  The basic plot of the story is this:  Hepburn and her brother are missionaries from England living in Africa just as World War I breaks out.  Their village is besieged by the Germans, it is burned to the ground, and the natives are herded off to become forced labor/soldiers in the German cause.  Bogart plays Charlie Allnut, the local delivery boy/mailman who pilots his small steamboat, the "African Queen" up and down the river.  He visits Rose and her brother just before the Germans arrive, then returns a couple of days later when the war has started to check on their well-being.  By this time, Rose's brother has succumbed to some illness, and she is alone.  She and Charlie bury her brother, then she and Charlie escape to the river, aboard the "Queen."  As they pull into safe harbor, Rose convinces him that their duty, as citizens of the British Empire (Charlie is Canadian) is to take his boat down river and destroy a lake-running German boat, the "Louisa" which is preventing the British from gaining a foothold in the area.  Charlie has plenty of explosives on board the ship, and cylinders from which to construct makeshift torpedoes.  Besides the river presenting animal challenges such as crocodiles, hippos, bugs, and perhaps most memorably, leeches, there are also areas of rapids...and a waterfall that sneaks up on them.  Oh, and they have to float right past a German fort.  It ain't exactly a safe journey, and for some reason, Charlie agrees to it.  At first, it's a ruse of sorts, but as time goes on, Charlie warms to the idea...and to Rose.  They eventually make it to the lake, where the "Queen" sinks, never accomplishing its goal of sinking the German warship.  Charlie and Rose are taken prisoner and about to be hung, when the "Louisa" slams right into the floating (albeit upside-down) remnants of the "African Queen."  The ship explodes, Charlie and Rose escape, and we get a German, swimming in the water, making a WACKY salute at his superior officer.  Hilarious.

So.  All of that happens.  Compelling?  Not really.  Actually, it's pretty boring.  We see crocodiles jump into the water, but they are never really a threat.  We see Bogart make fun of a much more dangerous animal, the hippopotamus, with no consequences.  Floating past the German fort just presents the opportunity for our protagonists to be shot at, but they don't do anything clever to get away, they just eventually float out of range.  The Germans don't do anything to counter it...so...yeah.  Boring.  I suppose the hardships of the river eventually catch up with Charlie and Rose at the end, as they happen upon some water that they can't navigate, as it is stuffed with reeds.  This sequence is a little tense...but it ends just fine.

Here's the deal.  What makes this film appealing is the chemistry between Hepburn and Bogart.  As Rose begins to encounter danger, and especially learns to conquer it, we see her spinster, virginal self move aside.  We see real sexual desire/pleasure overtake her, especially after she steers the "Queen" through a series of rapids.  Charlie, a drunkard bachelor who obviously cares very little for his own well-being, begins to fall for this new Rose, and we see him...clean up his act.  Remember Danny and Sandy in "Grease?"  Yeah, it's like that.  Again, this is not exactly new territory.  Maybe at the time it was, but I don't think that in 1951 any of this was particularly new.  The chemistry between the actors is strong, however, and we get the feeling that they genuinely like each other  That part works.  I also love Bogart's departure from his normal reserved style.  The hippo scene is actually quite charming, if unsatisfying.  I really wanted the goddamned hippos to attack the fucker for making fun of them.  I wanted some drama.  I've got Bogart and John Huston.  Give me somethin'.  One thing:  I expect Charlie and Rose, at some point, to be singing something about the "African Queen" a la "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang."  Of course, nothing like that happens, but I expect it.

I suppose I can also say that it is amazing that this film was filmed where it was.  It's a beautiful travelogue of Africa, and the nature scenes are quite stirring.  John Huston got that part right.  I can't, for the life of me, imagine why he directed this story, however.  It doesn't feel true with what I know of the man.  Maybe I don't know enough.  I don't know.  I just know that this seems like a sledgehammer trying to swat a fly.  Maybe that's it.  Maybe that's why this is so revered.  It's because while it may be boiler-plate rom-com, it's in the hands of some masters.  Is that it?  Is that the appeal?

Also thrilling (although clearly models) are the scenes where the river is too powerful for the "Queen."  Yes, the boat and its passengers survive them all with aplomb, but they are thrilling.  I've been in boats when water made things way more tough than I was prepared to deal with, and there is a rush to getting through it.  One particular night was a night where we watched a storm front roll in as we were a mile north of our takeout and in our kayaks.  Chasing the water back was exhilarating, even in 4 foot swells, and dangerous as hell.  Good story.  We're sitting in Belmont Harbor, looking at the skies to the north and trying to decide if we should turn and go back to Diversey Harbor.  Suddenly, one of the group's kayak starts beeping as his emergency weather radio goes off.  We then see the front move it.  Yeah, we hightailed it back, and it was terrifying, but I get what Rose was saying when she talked about the physical thrill she felt.

There.  I told a personal story.  How about that?

I'm not going to tell you to rush out and watch "The African Queen."  I can't.  This year, however, I'm not so sure I'd recommend avoiding it.  That's the most honest way I can put it.  I didn't hate it this time.  I kinda liked it.  I just don't see it as "GREAT."

Ebert didn't include this in his "Great Movies" series.  He does seem to like it, though, and does quite a bit of criticism in this essay, which is about the film's appeal to audiences.  It's here.  I say nothing.  Bullshit.  Roger says a lot of what I do.

Went to the cinema...

...this time.  This was shown recently as part of TCM's "Screen Classics" showing in movie theatres across the country.  My sister, Cindy, went with me.  We sat in a movie theatre with about 20 other people, and I laughed heartily at a film that does what few can...not take its subject too seriously...while being obviously constructed by VERY serious people.

You do realize that on every one of these I put up a link to the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition), right?  I think I want you to marvel at that list as a sum.  On with the show.

Film 79

79.  "Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid" (AFI Rank #73)

Know what's great?  Hitting Google Images and typing in the name of this film.  Because what you get are a bunch of posed sepia tone or black and white publicity photos of the impossibly handsome faces of its leading men.  As I want to illustrate these articles with shots from the, you know, ACTUAL FILM...this is a little frustrating...and yet appropriate.

1969 is well represented on the list, with 4 films (along with 1976 and 1982, this is the most for any one year).  An odd theme is present in the three on the list that I've seen ("Easy Rider," "Midnight Cowboy," and this one).  I haven't seen "The Wild Bunch," yet, but that's one of only 5 left on the list I've never seen before.  Anyway - all three are "buddy films" where travel is involved, and all three end in *SPOILERS* death.  Oops.  Shoulda said something about spoilers earlier.  I mean, these films have only been around for 46+ years, I understand.  (EDIT:  For the record, I recognize the contradiction in me NOT discussing the end of "Easy Rider" in my essay about that film with what I just did.   I'm a hypocrite.  Sue me.)  I'm not sure what that means, but 1969 was a tough year for the "Age of Aquarius" folks, as Woodstock in August yielded to the tragedy at Altamont in December.  The feel good part of the freedom of the 1960s was coming to an end, and the commercial opportunities/cynicism were settling in.  People also expanded from weed and acid to cocaine.  It was a rough time.  Perhaps these films are accurate mirrors of the time.  Perhaps that's looking too deep.

When I reviewed "Bonnie and Clyde," my friend, Craig, pointed me to an article written by Mike Royko at the time of its release, in which Royko asked people who were harmed by the real-life Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow if they understood that the film was not "real-life," and therefore harmless.  (or something akin to that)  Those affected said that they weren't going to see that film, and Royko concluded the article with a statement that he was obviously wrong to be angry about a movie that glorified some truly horrible people, no matter how fictionalized.  Art trumps reality, and Royko couldn't get that, he stated.  Royko was right.  As were the people who reviewed the film.  Their job was to write about the story presented, historical accuracy/real victims be damned.  Royko's was to write about the real things that story was based on.  Both perspectives mattered.  I mention this because this film does a lot of the same.  I've researched a bit this morning, and the story of the real Butch Cassidy (Paul Newman) and Sundance Kid (Robert Redford) is fairly accurately told in the film.  And the film makes us love some criminals.  There are parallels with "Bonnie and Clyde" that can be uncomfortable.  I don't care.  I love this film.

This film was directed by George Roy Hill, who had a reputation as an aloof, stubborn, perfectionist.  This film, so exquisitely paced, so dependent on its director for its life, is a joy.  A pure joy.  We've (I've, really) been discussing soundtracks recently.  Know what I noticed while watching this film?  There was NO music after the opening credits until the bicycle sequence with "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head."  Then, another long period of no music until the montage which moved Butch, Sundance, and Etta (Katharine Ross) to Bolivia.  Then, later, the "South American Getaway" piece appears.  Music is barely used in this film, and I think it's a better film for that choice.  It's counter-intuitive, to a certain extent, but it's an effective use of silence.  I think, the longer that I deal with this project, that music is often used to set pace.  Its absence here accomplishes the same goal.  I applaud it, wholeheartedly, for this film.

I also have to mention what I've now come to regard as one of my top 10 of film sequences, the chase sequence.  Watching this 10+ minute segment of film with an audience was great fun.  I probably laughed louder than I should have several times, but I get so wrapped up in the running gag of "Who are those guys?" I can't help myself.  I also thrill at watching as Redford and Newman go from relatively confident to more and more dubious/scared as the sequence advances.  It then becomes desperate, as the two outlaws realize that they are not getting away.  They are being chased by not only the best tracker around, but also by the best lawman, who is leading the chase.  Our heroes are always a distance ahead of their pursuers, but the pursuit never stops.  Never.  It's a wonderful segment, ballsy as hell, and it makes me smile.


Other genius segments include the aforementioned photo montage sequence that serves as our transition between Acts I and II.  The original intention of this sequence was to use the sets for "Hello Dolly," and film a great deal of New York on that set.  The studio withdrew its permission to do so, and so an alternative plan was required.  Still photos on the set made for what was probably a much more effective method of showing time passing.  The sequence feels innovative, it does its job, and it makes us believe the filmmaker really, really cares about what he is presenting.  I may be gushing a bit.  I kinda love this film.  A lot.  I mentioned the "South American Getaway" music.  That montage is also fantastic.  This film is full of iconic images.  Everyone remembers Butch and Sundance jumping off the cliff.  Everyone remembers the ending.  These are all-time film moments.

Writing on this film is tremendous.  Written by William Goldman, who wrote a little film that is well loved, "The Princess Bride."  Eminently quotable, the script is a tight, intelligent piece.  Lines come fast and furious at times, and have the impact of a sledgehammer.  The laugh lines are plentiful, and I really enjoyed the camaraderie of laughing with an audience.  "Think you used enough dynamite there, Butch?"  "Don't you get sick of being right all the time?"  "I don't know where we've been, and I've just been there."  The script demands that we pay attention, and keep on our toes.  It expects us to be intelligent.  It doesn't pander.  Again, like everything else in this film, this script is well-crafted.

Ultimately, though, as I hinted at early on in this, it is the pairing of Robert Redford and Paul Newman that drives this film, and makes it sing.  Katharine Ross is very good, as is everyone else.  It's Butch and the Kid, though.  Their relationship is so well performed, you can sense the chemistry between the actors.  Both men keep us captivated, time the humor just right, do drama great, show tension...hell everything.  It's a terrific example of the symbiotic nature of acting.  A bad partner can kill a scene immediately.  Even the greatest of actors can fail when chemistry misses.  These two actors wound up making another tremendous film together with George Roy Hill, the Oscar winning "The Sting."  I mentioned earlier that Hill had a reputation as a...prick.  Both Newman and Redford worked with him over and over.  Again, we're talking symbiosis.  I've been on both sides of this phenomenon as an actor and a director, and I can tell you, even in the tiny way that I've experienced it, it's magical.  That's what Newman and Redford feel like whenever they share the screen in this film.  Magic.  It's cool that someone went ahead and filmed this.  We can watch it whenever we like, and marvel.

I love this film.  As Cindy and I were discussing it, she mentioned that our father really enjoyed this film.  We, as children of his that share his sense of humor, also find it incredibly funny.  I'm glad I got to share this film in this way with her.  My sister and I can usually make each other laugh, and this was another thing that we got to share.  It was a lot of fun.

If you haven't seen this film, watch it.  If you have, I can't imagine that you don't love it, so watch it again.  Because it's that good.

Ebert's original review is here.  It's NEGATIVE!  And I could not disagree more.  What he sees as flaws, I see as strengths.  I also quibble with the idea that the language is somehow too modern for the era.  Fuck that.  Roger was off his rocker.  That he could so love "Bonnie and Clyde," which absolutely suffers from pace issues, while disliking this...is mind-boggling.

Yet another...

...film that I watched and wrote about last year.  I think this is the second of four in a row that I will be watching.  Me and my silly rules.  Have you read the rules?  They are here.

Off we go again, this time with the last of the Hitchcock films I'm watching as I get through the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).

Film 78

78.  "North By Northwest" (AFI Rank #55)

I am...well...I am a detail-oriented prick.  I can tell you right now, with more than a little embarrassment, that I missed, last year, during my first viewing, the moment where Cary Grant's Roger Thornhill is mistaken for George Kaplan.  As such, I had no concept as to why all this shit was happening to him.  Yes.  I missed it.  Liked the film anyway, but really had no idea what the fuck was happening in the story.  That is a tough way to watch a film whose whole premise is mistaken identity.

So, this time I caught it.  And the film was WAY better.

Directed by master filmmaker, Alfred Hitchcock, "North By Northwest" is another in his long list of "wrong man" films.  Filmed in 1959, the year before he filmed "Psycho," this film has amazing sequences...and some that miss.  Julie and I have discussed Hitchcock a bit, she has a much deeper knowledge base than I do, but we talked about "The Birds," and how...well...cheesy it is.  I watched this film the other night.  You know what?  You can see the roots of "The Birds" in this.  You can also see that which made Hitchcock amazing.

Some fun stuff:  Cary Grant, as Roger Thornhill, is nearly always to the left of any shot in the film.  In a "north by northwest" direction (if such a compass point existed - and we assume the top of the screen is North).  Hitchcock's trademark cameo in this is wonderful, and also demonstrates, even in its brief moment on the screen, why Hitchcock belonged behind the camera.
 

Bernard Hermann did the score for this film, as he did for 4 other films in the Top 100.  John Williams beats him out with 6 films, but I'd submit that Hermann shows a wider range.  This film is a little dreamy/surreal.  "Taxi Driver" was smooth jazz.  "Psycho," and its strings are unforgettable.  Etc., etc.  Williams writes sweeping classical style music.  Hermann provides a soundtrack.

Which brings me to something I mentioned in my earlier review of "Platoon."  I'd seen this film before I wrote that one, and I mentioned music and its use in film.  The most famous sequence in this film is the crop duster chasing Thornhill.  Here's what I want you to do, the next time you watch this film.  Watch that sequence, from the time Thornhill gets off the bus.  It's PAINFULLY slow in set up...yes.  However...I want you to observe that there isn't a note of music in it.  The soundtrack for this sequence is entirely ambient.  It seems so odd, as so much has been running at such a breakneck speed in this film, then we get to this, the signature piece, and it slams on the brakes.  This scene requires us to breathe, to take a moment, to notice all the details.  To spend a moment in Thornhill's brain.  And the lack of music is spot on.  SPOT on.  I've been raving in these reviews about how film is the only art form that can use music in this way, blah blah blah.  Here, it is precisely the LACK of music that makes the scene bristle.  And since I teased before, I'm going to tease again.  There's going to be more discussion like this in my NEXT review.

Hitchcock was a devil's in the details kinda guy, and his films were extensively storyboarded.  You can feel/see that dedication to his craft throughout this film.  Shots from overhead are abundant, and the one from the top of the United Nations building is exceedingly juicy.  Some shots, however, were too ambitious for the technology of the day.  This is what happened in "The Birds."  The intention is great, and with films like "King Kong," we let go of the special effects, because they are so abundant, and ultimately propel the story.  This film is so taut, so engaging, that when we get the moments of spectacular special effect, they look clunky, and like they don't belong.  The falls from Mt. Rushmore are terrible, the drunk driving sequence blows, but it's the shot where Cary Grant is about to be run over by the fuel truck in the airplane sequence that just feels so out of place.  It didn't need to be there, and it is a disappointing finale to a thrilling 2 minutes of film.

Acting in this film is about what is to be expected.  Eva Marie Saint might be a shade on the not passionately cold enough as Eve Kendall.  And yes, that sound contradictory, but I don't buy her cool act, even though the character is obviously a master manipulator.  She uses sex indiscriminately (fairly shocking stuff in 1959), but I don't feel a sense that it matters.  Martin Landau is menacing as the obviously gay henchman.  James Mason makes a fine bad guy.  Leo G. Carroll is engaging enough as "The Professor."  I kinda love that the "good guy from the government" is simply named "The Professor."  Beyond that, you've got some bad guys, who are stiffs.  Thornhill's mother is decent enough.  Cary Grant.  Cary Grant bugs me.  He seems talented enough.  I just...I just find his movements awkward.  I find his voice annoying.  I find Cary Grant...annoying.  I don't get it.  That's me, and I'm not going to be convinced otherwise.

Other things about this film I love.  I think the house at the top of Mt. Rushmore is stunning to look at, and a wonderful set piece.  I think the shot of the heads from behind when Roger says, "we're on top of the monument" is amazing.  I love the pace of the film.  I love most of the visual art.  I love the commitment on everyone's part to excellence.  I don't love the train going into the tunnel at the end, but I get it.  I do love that before that happens, we get a nice transition from the mountain to the train car.  Yes, it does transition as Roger tries to rescue Eve.  Good stuff.  I don't love the soft focus on a Hitchcock blonde, because it seems so cliché.  Bah.  This is a great film, and I'm glad I got to watch it again, if for no other reason than I now KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I WAS WATCHING. 

This is the last film Hitchcock made that I'm watching on this quest.  This is also the lowest ranked of the four films he has on the list.  It makes sense.  This, of the 4, is the one that I'd rank last.  It's an ambitious film, but it misses too often for my taste.  I'm blaming that on the technology, so I'll give it a pass, albeit not much of one.  I will miss Hitchcock as I get through these last 23.  It is funny, though, as I seem to have saved 3 of the 4 Bogart films until the last 21.  How about that?   I have enjoyed getting to write about and watch Hitchcock films in this way.  It's been a great pleasure.  Perhaps I move onto a different quest.  I've always wanted to watch all the Bond films, just to say I did.  Maybe I invest a little time in Hitchcock.  Maybe I watch all the Best Picture Oscar winners.  Maybe I don't do silly things like this anymore. 

I can be such an idiot sometimes. 

No Roger Ebert this time.  Can't find an article he wrote.  There is a fun "when is a close up a long shot" essay on his website if you wish.  Google "Ebert North By Northwest." 

See you soon.   Went to the theatre to see the next one. 

Still awe inspiring...

...after 80 plus years.

Classic movie monster wrapped up in a classic story this time, as we make our way through the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).

Film 77

77.  "King Kong" (AFI Rank #41)

I watched and wrote about this one last year.  I have to confess that a great number of the ones I wrote about last year are appearing towards the end of this list.  I think, in retrospect, that turned out to be a good idea, though my motivation was probably not leaning the way I will describe.  I think, given the scope of this task, and given all I'm learning on the way, it is good that I'm waiting to give opinions on films I have already expressed public opinions on until I've got a really good base of knowledge from which to comment.  I'm no expert, but this is now 77 films that I've provided my written opinion on.  That's like a year of film criticism for a newspaper.  Maybe 6 months.  Either way, it's experience.  My perks are that all my films happen to be GREAT, and that I don't have to write about any films starring Jim Varney.  I don't do this for money.  I do, however, like the idea that maybe somebody might take my review and watch a film, or ignore it, or discuss deeper meaning because of something I said...

Bah.

Look, I'm not going to mince words.  This film is dependent on special effects.  It helped pioneer a great number of them, but it...well...they...they're cheesy by today's standards.  They are.  BUT.  That's by today's standards.  When viewing historic documents, one must always, if one is to really understand the reason things appear the way they do, take the document in context of the era from which it came.  The Beatles "Yeah, yeah, yeah" phase may seem trite, when compared with music they made just 4 years later, but if one compares that music to other artists at the time...the Beatles were revolutionary right from the start.  I'm sure I wrote that a year ago, and I'm doing so again.  It's because "King Kong" needs to be seen in context.  It was 19fucking33.  This film, which uses stop motion animation in copious amounts, along with superimposed images, along with MASSIVE FUCKING PUPPETS, is nothing short of a marvel.  Yes, Kong's fur annoyingly moves CONSTANTLY while on screen, because do you know how hard it is to keep the fur in the exact spot while one moves the arm of a model a 1/4"?  The great part of it, though, is if you let it go, and accept that what you are watching isn't real (duh), but make it so in your mind...the great part is that this is a terrifically exciting film.

Filmed at a breakneck speed, action sequences in the film come fast and furious.  Last year, while watching this film, I commented that Kong had to fight a T-Rex, a giant lizard/snake beast, a pterodactyl, and a bunch of humans just from the time he picked up Ann Darrow (Fay Wray), a short period of time.  I commented that perhaps she was bad luck, as that seemed like a LOT of shit to deal with in a day.  That we, as film viewers, are subjected to these battles one after the other, at a relentless pace, is thrilling, to say the least.  There are no directors credited on the film, but history has shown that the film's principal story writer, Merion C. Cooper, directed the bulk of it, with the assistance of producer Ernest B. Schoedsack.  I'n not entirely certain that history would describe them as great directors, but this film, and its energy, are tributes to efficiency in storytelling.  Yes, there is a lot to say, but it gets said quickly (unlike these reviews).

Really more of a melodrama than a work of great literature, "King Kong," at its heart, is the age old fable of Beauty and the Beast.  This particular iteration happens to be a 24 foot tall gorilla.  The plot doesn't really matter.  It's ultimately just metaphor anyway.  Besides, the acting is so abysmal by the humans, you won't much care about the story, regardless.  Robert Armstrong plays Carl Denham, a film maker who is guiding an expedition to make a new picture on Skull Island, a mysterious place with a terrible secret, or a thousand terrible secrets.  Armstrong's portrayal is so stiff, so wooden, one wonders if maybe the model doesn't have better chops.  While I cannot blame Armstrong for the repeated ad nauseum lines about "gas bombs," his delivery certainly helps point out the flaws in the scriptwriting.  Equally bereft of talent, though less grating this time, I admit, is Bruce Cabot as John Driscoll, first mate on the boat that Denham hires, and eventual love interest (perhaps by attrition...) of Wray's Ann Darrow.  Cabot was a doorman before making this film, and he's...well...he's bad.  Again, there is so little going on with this guy, one wonders why we can't get back to the big gorilla.  Wait.  I said this was a great film.  It is.  Scale is one factor in that, for sure, but of particular notability is how terrific Fay Wray is in this.  Yes, a great deal of her spoken dialogue is screaming.  However, in her moments of actual "acting," she brings a vulnerability and sensibility to Ann that is palpable.  We understand why Kong loves her, and we do, too.

What, ultimately, is the message of this film, and why is it still so great?  Yes, it's melodrama.  Yes, it's poorly acted.  Yes, it's a monster movie.  At its heart, however, are a couple of messages.  One of them is that there are wild places and wild creatures in the world.  Places man wasn't meant to be.  Creatures man wasn't meant to tame.  While man may believe that he is the grandest and greatest of the creatures on the planet, this film reminds us of just how little we know, and little we can control.  Beyond that, it reminds us that our natural inclination, when faced with something that it can't explain, the American reaction is to capitalize on it or kill it.  Contrast that with the natives of Skull Island, who don't view Kong as a spectacle, but as a God, to be worshiped and feared.  Americans, when given the opportunity to deal with Kong, react with overwhelming fear, then violence.  Yes.  I get it that a gigantic, angry gorilla is loose in New York City, and that it might present something to be legitimately feared, but this is storytelling.  We're supposed to learn from it.

Of course, the other message of the film is about love, and its ability to heal, to inspire bravery, and to lead us to poor decisions, based on jealousy...or...wait for it...fear.  Kong wants Ann.  She is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he loves her.  Deeply.  He wants to possess her, absolutely, and wants to protect her.  Even at the cost of his own life.  Kong tries to get away.  He climbs the highest point he can at the conclusion of the film.  This was likely a tactic that got him out of several scrapes on Skull Island, but Kong was at a disadvantage this time.  Man had weaponry against this.  Watch, however, as Kong continues to try and take Ann away, and continues to try and shield her.  He does not want any harm to come to her.  Heartbreaking, even with its balky movement, is the final moment of Kong's life, as he reaches out, defeated, to touch his precious love one more time.  He then tumbles from the building, dead.  We then get the final line of the film.  "It wasn't the planes, it was Beauty killed the Beast."  And we feel it.  No matter how wooden the delivery.  No matter how ridiculous the entire moment is.  We feel sympathy and empathy for Kong.  And that, friends, is because of great storytelling.  We buy the model, no matter its limitations, because of our commitment to hearing stories.

This film has iconic imagery in it.  The shots atop the Empire State Building are practically "household words."  Beyond that, the set of the wall/gate on Skull Island is amazing.  It is always odd for me to picture so much, back so long ago, being spent on these MASSIVE sets.  This was during the height of the depression, and here's Hollywood, using a 25 foot wall.  It's stunning, breathtaking work.

I think that's my takeaway from the film.  This is amazing, innovative stuff.  It's a monster movie, but it's so much more.  You can see the roots of the Marvel films in this.  You can see the roots of a certain shark movie in this. You can see the roots of that same shark movie director's movie about dinosaurs in this.  You can see the roots of...well....any special effects spectacular in this. Yes, a lot of the newer films do it much better, obviously.  However, they didn't invent the shit.  This film did, and I cannot stress enough how lucky we are that this film was made.  It's amazing.  Just amazing.

Here's Roger Ebert's take.  Hmmmph.  Roger and I are back on the same page.

"Feeling good's...

...good enough."

Saw this one first run in the theatre.  Still haunts me.  I'll try to sum it up as I take this step on the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).

Film 76

76.  "Platoon" (AFI Rank #86)

A couple of weeks ago, I posited that "Do The Right Thing" may be the best film of the 80s.  I even went so far as to say it kicked "Platoon's" ass all over the place.

I may have been wrong.  I may not have been.  I'm going to say, after watching this in its entirety for the first time in a while, that this is a terrific film, and I feel far less sure about my pronunciation of "Do The Right Thing" as the best film of the 80s.  This film, in stark relief, challenges that which we think we know, makes us question things we don't want to question, and beats us up for a couple of hours.

Oliver Stone's tale of what happened to one soldier, Chris Taylor (Charlie Sheen), as he tries to survive his (volunteered) time in Vietnam is harrowing, to say the least.  Never really defining morality, this film asks us many, many questions, while providing frustratingly few answers.  We know this when it's over (and this is somewhat taken from one of many Sheen voiceovers):  Hell is the absence of reason, and war is Hell.  I chose the quote from the film above as the "title" of this because...well...there's nothing about this movie that feels good.  And when Sgt. Elias (Willem Dafoe) says this to our protagonist, we get a deep sadness.  Sometimes, it seems, feeling good is good enough.  Even if the way to feel good is to smoke weed and, as Sgt. Barnes (Tom Berenger) says, "escape reality," that might just be good enough.

Written by Stone shortly after his return from Vietnam, this film sat around waiting for someone to greenlight it for nearly 15 years.  In researching the film, I found that Stone originally wanted Jim Morrison of The Doors to play Chris, and when Morrison died, the script was found in his room.  That's a lot of water under the bridge between writing and execution. It can be presumed that Stone, while making other films, probably tweaked this story multiple times, finally getting major studio backing in the mid 80s.  I am offering nothing buy my own conclusions here.  I imagine that part of the problem with getting it made was its unflinching look at the brutality in what AMERICANS did, but I'm guessing the fratricide issue was the biggie.  I have no doubt that men, in insane situations, and armed with weapons, will shoot each other.  I can't imagine that with the way the film ends, that Chris seems so...OK with it.  Later.

This film is great.  Of that I will not argue.  Why?  Let's start with the score.  Punctuated multiple times with "Adagio for Strings" by Samuel Barber, this film's music is decidedly poignant, and adds emotional depth to what we watch.  Throw in the score by Georges Delerue, and many, many popular songs of the era, and we are once again showed a stirring example of why film is such a unique art form.  There are musical plays.  There are plays with music.  Film, though, without the score...think about it.  More on that (and how it relates to one scene) in an upcoming review.  The score for "Platoon" is nothing short of magnificent.

Cinematography in this is also amazing.  While it may seem that it focuses on close-ups (it does), there are also terrific sequences with people running in the jungle, in a confusing manner, along with rolling vistas.  For my money, though, and it's cliché, the shot with Elias, having been shot by Barnes, and running from a horde of Viet Cong, as seen from the helicopter...is genius.   Little bit of trivia about that scene.  When the camera comes back to the ground as Elias kneels, squibs were supposed to be firing all over his chest.  None went off.  The shot was left in, and another take was not done.  Think about that scene.  Think about Elias's resignation, his sadness as his soul leaves his body.  Think about that punctuated with bullet holes.  I don't think it works, and neither did Stone.  Happy accident, for sure, but the director made the right choice in not trying to correct it.

I mentioned that I saw this film in the theatres in first run.  I remember talking with a neighbor of mine about it.  She was about 18 years older than me or so, and had been a teenager during Vietnam.  She was a hippie.  I, at the time, was interested in all things hippie, I think mostly for the drugs and free love, but also because I kinda dug the idea of maybe killing other people isn't really a workable solution to problems.  When we discussed it, we both talked about how much the film bugged us.  Her take, and I remember it as clear as a bell, was "there was no distinction between good and evil."  And THAT, my friends, is the crux of the film.  It bugged my neighbor.  It bugged me.  I think it bugged her from the idea that we didn't know whom we should like, but for me, it bugged me, and continues to, because we ALL are capable of both.  Chris discusses it in the final voiceover of the film, as he flies out of Vietnam:

"The war is over for me now, but it will always be there, the rest of my days. As I'm sure Elias will be, fighting with Barnes for what Rhah called possession of my soul. There are times since, I've felt like the child born of those two fathers."

The film asks us to look within ourselves, and see that both the good and the evil are within all of us.  And that being thrust into Hell, into the absence of reason, will sometimes provide an easy conduit for the evil to flow out of us.  If you haven't seen the film, I'm sorry, but I said I was going to discuss something later.   The finale of the film features our eyes, our protagonist, killing, in cold blood, the "evil" Sergeant Barnes.  He then is shown smiling, and doing the voiceover which talks about rebuilding, etc.  I have a tough time with that.  I'm thinking that, even in the absence of reason, Chris immediately understood the consequences of his actions, and that those actions would haunt his every moment from then on.  Maybe I'm wrong.  It's tough to swallow.

Also tough to swallow is the utter decimation of the characters we meet.  I know that war sucks, and that slaughters occur, but the "Hollwooding" of the battles feels like too much.  At the end of the film, only 4 characters that we've met and spent a decent amount of time with are left without grave wounding.  Maybe that's accurate.  It feels like too much.  Like gangster films that wipe out whole crews, this film seems like overkill.  If you need to, I did find a handy tally sheet, of all places on IMDB.  It's here, if you wish to know what happened to everyone.  It's the question about what happened to the men.  

There are a few scenes that merit mention.  The scene in the village is terrifying, and so intrinsic to the rest of the film, that to not mention its emotional impact would be negligent on my part.  Based on real events that happened far too frequently, we see in the scene the side of war that leads to, well, more war.  So much of what we compromise is based on this basic blood lust for revenge, it's no wonder that we still haven't figured out a better way to resolve conflict.  We see this scene in former Vice President Dick Cheney, saying he doesn't regret torturing people at all, in spite of its illegality and its proven ineffectiveness.  He just wanted somebody to pay.  That's what that scene in the film is.  It's payback for 3 soldiers killed, and all the men go along gladly with it, as does their CO in name, if not spirit, Lieutenant Wolfe (Mark Moses).  It is Elias, the man who understands what he is watching who ultimately stops it.  This sets up the conflict for the rest of the film, and for the rest of Chris's life (we presume).  It's a brutally effective scene.  It shows us so much in so little.  

Also worthy of mention is the final battle sequence.  Like "Saving Private Ryan," it has a "last stand" feel to it, right from the get-go, but it's a harsh pill to swallow, seeing so many people we've grown to care about die so indiscriminately.  Even Lt. Wolfe, so charmingly incompetent, gets killed, and we feel it like a gut punch.  Junior (Reggie Johnson), a malingerer, gets run through with a bayonet.  Bunny (expertly crafted by Kevin Dillon), himself an utter sociopath, gets his brains blown out, and we feel loss.  How is that possible?  These guys are the bad guys.  Or are they?  There goes Stone again.  We all have it, and war doesn't give two fucks which guy it is, it's going to destroy them both.  

Acting ranges from great to pedestrian.  Sheen was overmatched in this film, and spends a great deal of the film making sure we understand that.   I suppose some of that is because he always looks impossibly coiffed, and entirely too pretty, and he had nothing to do with that.  However, Chris Taylor is a tremendous character, and I wonder what he might have been like in the hands of Johnny Depp, who made his film debut in this one.  Taylor is heroic, and acts it in the film, often diving into battles where others cower.  I buy Sheen at those times, but not in his more thoughtful scenes.  Depp.  Depp coulda done it.  

I mentioned Kevin Dillon.  His Bunny, from the scalp hanging off his helmet, to the use of a SHOTGUN in battle, is a wonderful character.  However, it is one line, and his delivery, that still thrills me 30 years later.  "Ain't nothing like a piece of pussy...except maybe the Indy 500."  Truly a great line reading, and one that should go down in film annals.  If only it could.  It so thoroughly defines Bunny, it's a tremendous example of an actor who got it, and used his one moment to make us his bitch.  It's great work.  Work.  

Dafoe and Berenger are the draw.  Carving complex characters out of archetypes, the two are so dependent on each other for their own character, the synergy can be felt almost physically.  Barnes isn't nearly as fascinating without Elias, and vice versa.  Elias is a stone cold killer, despite his great love for humanity.  Barnes looks out for the men, even at his own jeopardy, despite his absolute abhorrence of the enemy.  There is a tremendous scene where Barnes stands up during a firefight, as everyone around him is sheltered, and marches right to the guy pissing him off.  He has no fear of repercussion.  His men come first.  It is telling that Elias takes on a whole shit-ton of VC, killing them indiscriminately.  Again.  Two sides to every story.  No evil.  No good.  There was another Vietnam film, made a year later, by Stanley Kubrick that was more blatant about it.  "Full Metal Jacket" includes a line about "The duality of man, the Jung thing."  Yup.  It's all here.

Get the theme yet?

Watch this film again, no matter how disturbing it is.  It is graphically violent.  It is brutal.  It is also a terrific film, and a timeless tale of morality.

Ebert's original review is here.  Roger didn't see metaphor.  I do.  It's 30 years later.  I do like his take on the fact that there are no real clear shots of the enemy.  That, I missed. 

Yeah, this one...

...is on the list.

Nostalgic look back to a bygone era on my trip down the list of the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).

Film 75

75.  "American Graffiti" (AFI Rank #62)

OK.  Pop quiz.  How many feature length studio films did George Lucas direct before 1999's "Star Wars Episode I:  The Phantom Menace?"

Pop quiz answer:  3.  George Lucas had directed 3 films in his entire life before he doubled that figure helming the often awful prequels to "Star Wars."

Now, of those 3 films, how many are in the AFI Top 100?  2.  There are 2 films in the list that George Lucas directed, and this is the first one I've gotten to this year.

This film also marks a couple of other personal milestones.  I'm now 3/4 of the way through the list, this film is the last of a bloc of 5 I hadn't seen before, leaving me only 5 films on the list that I haven't watched in their entirety.  I've got 25 to go, but 20 I've seen, and most of those, I've seen...several times.  I'm seeing light at the end of the tunnel on this project.   This is also the first film I've watched that was filmed in color in a while.  The last 5 have all been monochromatic, and it made for a nice change to get to see some colors.

This film is described as a "coming of age" tale of one night in Modesto, California, as a group of recent high school graduates gets ready to go their separate ways the next day.  College is calling two of the members of the class away, and this film celebrates their last night at "home."

Along the way we meet several intriguing characters, each with their own set of hangups and problems.  We meet Curt (Richard Dreyfuss), who isn't sure he wants to go to college.  We meet his younger sister, Laurie (Cindy Williams), who is now a senior in high school, but who is dating Steve (Ron Howard), who is scheduled to fly east in the morning with Curt, to some unspecified college.  Steve is quite sure that he's ready to go, and breaks Laurie's heart by telling her that the best thing for their relationship would be for them to start seeing other people once he leaves.  She is less than thrilled with the idea.  We also meet Terry "The Toad" Fields (Charles Martin Smith), a little guy who obviously doesn't do so well with the ladies.  We also meet mechanic and gearhead (and the guy with the fastest, coolest car around) John Milner  (Paul Le Mat), who graduated with the rest, but is now ensconced in a trade.  John appears to be the outsider of the group, as he looks like a guy who has moved on to adulthood, while the others are just trying to figure out what that may portend for them.

Stuffed, and I mean STUFFED with old music from the late 50s/early 60s, this film's soundtrack is unrelenting.  Music is a near constant throughout the film, whether live or over the radio, being broadcast by "Wolfman" Jack, the coolest DJ around.  The music almost becomes another character in the film, and "Wolfman," who makes a brief appearance late in the film, but who is a disembodied voice until then, is as much a device in the narrative as any of the people we see.

It is hard to sum up just what I watched when I watched this the other night.  Without getting into long plot exposition, we wind up meeting several other characters as our principals go about their evening.  We meet Debbie (Candy Clark), who gets picked up by Terry because of his bitching car (which actually belongs to Steve - who has asked Terry to watch it while he's at school).  We meet Carol (Mackenzie Phillips), a pre-pubescent girl who spends several hours cruising with John.  We meet the Pharaohs, a local "gang" that Curt winds up hanging out with.  We meet a gorgeous blonde in a T-Bird played by Suzanne Somers who mouths "I love you" to Curt, and whom he spends the rest of the night trying to find.  He even goes to the radio station, where he meets a man who claims not to be "The Wolfman," but who turns out to be just exactly that.  He asks "Wolfman" to dedicate a song to the blonde, and leaves a phone number for her to call.  We also meet Bob Falfa (Harrison Ford), who wants his shot at John Milner, so as to race him.

So, what happens?

Really...well...these people spend the night driving around, trying to work out their problems, or get laid, or get drunk, or get accepted.  Framing all of this, and "home base," if you will, is Mel's Drive In, where the characters seem to always congregate.  The film starts there, and the action essentially ends there.  Mel's is where Steve goes and figures out that Laurie is too important to leave behind, and that his desire to go to college is second to his desire to be with her.  Mel's is where Toad gets a second date with Debbie, then admits he's not all that he claimed to be.  Mel's is where Curt gets a phone call from the mysterious blonde, and where he realizes that he DOES want to go to college, and nothing is going to stop him from that.  Mel's is where John is challenged to his showdown with Bob, and he goes on to beat him in their race.  Everything, for the most part turns out the way it should.  The final shot of the film is Curt, on the plane, looking down and seeing the white T-Bird.   It's a great shot, and it's a nice way to close the film.  We then get the future of our 4 main MALE characters, but none of the FEMALES.

So.  What makes this great?  I'm not sure.  I guess, to a certain extent, I admire that this film doesn't spoon-feed us what's happening, and just lets the story unfold and breathe.  We then grow to understand and empathize with the characters, and we grow to root for them.  We see them change in front of our eyes, over the course of ONE NIGHT.  It's really cool.  \Colors are vibrant throughout, and there is a real love for the era.  This takes place in 1962, and it's obvious that Lucas loves this era.  The music is great, and does such a great job of setting the scene.  I also enjoyed finding familiar faces like Del Close, Susan Richardson, Debralee Scott, Joe Spano, and Kathleen Quinlan before they became famous elsewhere.

Really, though, for me...this film feels a lot like the phrase about pornography.  "I can't describe it, but I know what it is when I see it."  This film, I'm not really sure why I found it so good, but I did.  I liked what I saw, I liked the way it made me feel, and I liked the tale that was told, and HOW it was told.  It's a good to great movie.  I'm glad I've finally seen it (I'd seen several bits of it previously).  If you haven't, perhaps you should.  I'd recommend it.

One thing, though.  The title sucks.

Perhaps Roger Ebert can shed some light on it.  I'm reading his original review, which can be found here.   He didn't revisit it later.  Let me read this real quick.  Yeah, he says it better than I can.  I wasn't alive until 1968, so I can't relate to the chain of events that shattered the youth of America, starting with the assassination of JFK in 1963.  It's a great point, and one that I wish I thought of.

EDIT:  I never critiqued the acting.  Not going to.  One other thing:  I get, now, why the women aren't mentioned in the post script.  Really, the men in this are the story.  The only one that isn't "added" on as the film progresses is Laurie, and...well...

I'm not saying that is the right choice, but I understand it.

Song and dance time...

...and rabid patriotism.

A star turn this time on the list of AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).

Film 74

74.  "Yankee Doodle Dandy" (AFI Rank #98)

There are a few films that appear on the list because of the sheer magnitude of the stars in the picture.  I'd submit that both Marx Brothers' entries, and "Swing Time," with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers (although this film has a technical marvel of a scene), are the principal examples of that dynamic.  While they are great pieces of entertainment, I wouldn't call any of those 3 "GREAT FILMS."  I would also lose the argument I'd make to include the films "Sophie's Choice," "Tootsie," "Bringing Up Baby," and "The African Queen" in that list.  Then, along came "Yankee Doodle Dandy," and we have one that one can't argue about.

This is not a GREAT FILM.  It is, however, a magnificent performance by its leading man, a movie star of the utmost magnitude.  Because of that performance, this film is important, even great, and worthy of discussion.  I'm not going to get into deep themes, I'm probably not going to discuss attention to detail, or a whole lot else.  I'm going to get into what is great in this film, and that starts with James Cagney.

Ostensibly telling the story of George M. Cohan's rise to power as THE American entertainer of the early 20th century, (Charles Chaplin was a global star) this film is most comfortable in fantasy.  Yes, there was a George M. Cohan, and yes, he became a very, very powerful man.  Yes, he performed with his family under the billing "The Four Cohans."   Yes, he wrote some amazing music that endures to this day, 100 years later.  Yes, he was a skilled performer.  Beyond that, most of this is fiction, or highly embellished reality.  It's got some wonderfully sentimental family moments in it, and some nice bits showing the passage of time.  Other than that, not much.  So, we can chuck the story, mostly.  Fine.

Michael Curtiz directed this film.  You may recognize his name from a different film that he directed, the year after this one.  It was called "Casablanca."  Ever hear of it?  This film is not the visual treat that the other one is, but it has moments, and Curtiz has some particularly good sequences in this film.  A slow pan across "Broadway," and the signs on the various theatres, which shows passage of time and George M.'s influence is especially pleasing.  The deathbed scene with George and his father, Jerry, (played by Walter Huston, the father of John Huston, and grandfather of Anjelica) is poignant.  The visual imagery of the staircase in the White House, particularly when Cagney ad-libbed tap dancing down them is fantastic.  Beyond that, it's a film.  It got directed.


Performances by ancillary characters are honest, if the characters they play tend to be buffoonish at times.  Of particular note are the performances of Walter Huston as George's father, Rosemary DeCamp as George's mother, and Jeanne Cagney, James' real-life sister portraying George's sister, Josie.  All the Cohans fill the bill so well, that we feel genuine affection between them.  Also worthy of praise is Joan Leslie, all of 17 years old, who portrays Cohan's wife, Mary.  It is hard to imagine someone so young carrying so much of the film, but Leslie does it, and does it well.

Ultimately, though, it's James Cagney that we want to see.  Earning a Best Actor Oscar for his work in this film, I wouldn't call any of the scenes that Cagney participates in (with the possible exception of the deathbed scene I mentioned above) as great scenes for an actor.  No, what this film presents is a showcase for us to marvel at this amazing entertainer.  Known primarily as a "bad boy" actor, Cagney's performance in this film is breathtaking.  Participating in multiple elaborate staged numbers, Cagney hoofs his way through the songs with the energy of a man two decades his junior.  Adapting his dance style to a more stiff-legged style in order to better emulate the real George M. Cohan, I defy you to watch this without shaking your head at least once in amazement.  It's a unrelenting performance, one that Premiere magazine called the 6th best ever captured on film.  I've seen the other 9 in the top 10.  I'd say that list is pretty goddamned good, although I'd take Brando's Vito Corleone over his Terry Malloy.

So, that's my take on this film.  I think you should watch it.  I think it's a magnificent document, capturing a performer at his best, and maybe performance at its best.  It also has a great, great line in it:  "My mother thanks you, my father thanks you, my sister thanks you, and I thank you."

This is the last musical on the list.  I've only got one more to write up, then I'm caught up, and I'm on to the last 25 films, only 5 of which I haven't seen before.  The other 20 (especially the last 10) are all very familiar to me, so we'll see how this goes.  This film, I hadn't seen before.  I'm glad I have.  I encourage you to do the same.

So, this is short and sweet, like its star.  I needed one like this.

Ebert wrote about this one in his "Great Movies" series.  Here it is.  Hmmmmph.  Imagine that. Ebert and I agree again.