The Best Movies I Have Never Seen Before: Historie(s) du Cinema (1988-1998)

Friday, October 18, 2013

The Best Movies I Have Never Seen Before: Historie(s) du Cinema (1988-1998)

Histoire(s) due Cinema (1988-1998)
Directed by: Jean-Luc Godard.
Written by: Jean-Luc Godard.

Jean-Luc Godard has been bitter and angry for a long time about what he sees as the “failures” of cinema. The famed French director, who perhaps was the biggest name in cinema during the 1960s, has long since turned his back on narrative filmmaking, and become an avant-garde filmmaker. To be fair, had he never made those films in the early to mid-1960s – really most of his films from Breathless (1960) to Weekend (1967) – he would still be an important filmmaker in avant-garde circles. Yet, if it wasn’t for those early films, Godard would not command the respect he now does. Whenever he opens his mouth to insult a filmmaker – a favorite target of his has been Spielberg (although, most of what Godard has said about Spielberg is so outlandish and ridiculous that it masks any legitimate criticisms he may have), everyone listens. When he makes a film like Film Socialism (2010), it becomes the most talked about film at the Cannes Film Festival – where normally a film that like wouldn’t even play there (you can argue that’s either a good or bad thing). There seems to be two camps on Godard – those who think he has done very little of value since Weekend, and those who think that Godard is still a genius, still far ahead of the curve, waiting for people to catch up to him.

For the most part, I consider myself to be in the former camp. Breathless (1960), Vivre Sa Vie (1962), Contempt (1963), Band of Outsiders (1964), Pierrot Le Fou (1965) and Weekend (1967) are all legitimately great movies, and even if I didn’t think Made in U.S.A. (1966) or 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her (1967) were great (or even that good in the case of 2 or 3 Things), they was interesting and intelligent films. This period was so prolific for Godard that I still need to see some fairly major works from it –A Woman is a Woman (1961), Alphaville (1965), Masculin-Feminine (1966) – chief among them. Given how much I hated Film Socialisme (sorry, perhaps I should say I just don’t get it, but in all honesty, when I read the reviews of people who claim it to be a masterpiece, I wonder if I perhaps walked into the wrong theater, because what I saw was an incoherent mess, not some profound statement on anything) and some of his other “late period” films, I cannot imagine wanting to see them above the films he was making in the period where he made several legitimate masterpieces.

All this is a very long introduction into this piece which is about Godard’s magnum opus – Histoire(s) due Cinema, an eight part (or four part, with each part having an (a) and (b) if you want to get technical), four and a half hour epic, which he made and released slowly between 1988 and 1998. Normally, I would have rather watched one of those 1960s Godard films I still haven’t seen rather than this opus – but the film ranked in the top 50 films of all time on the 2012 Sight and Sound Critics Poll, so I bite the bullet and settled in for what I assumed would be a VERY long night.

But I was pleasantly surprised by Histoire(s) du Cinema. I’m certainly not saying that the film is for everyone – it clearly isn’t, and is more of an avant-garde art piece than anything else – but I was fascinated by the film. The film is technical marvel – a masterpiece of montage – as it brings together clips from cinema’s past, and makes startling connections, and wholly new images out of them. Yes, the film is still a long sit, and yet it was never less than fascinating – even when it enraging, which it often was as Godard’s contentions and opinions about cinema are often at complete odds with my own, or self-aggrandizing, which it is nearly constantly for parts of the movie. In Godard’s view, of course, only someone in the New Wave could tell the story of cinema history – meaning only he can – and that the French New Wave was the greatest thing that ever happened to cinema – again, meaning he was – and since then it has been a long, slow death march. He pretty much argues that cinema is already dead – but of course, only Godard is smart enough to see it.

But I can disagree with a movie, and still find it interesting – and Histoire(s) du Cinema is certainly interesting. It’s not that I didn’t know that Godard was an egomaniac when I sat down to watch Histoire(s) du Cinema, or that he wasn’t going to argue that cinema has failed – he has been arguing that for years. And Histoire(s) du Cinema is the type of film that only someone who at one point completely loved cinema could make. Godard’s movie knowledge is unquestionable, and his disappointment in cinema’s “failings” is genuine, even if I think more than a little of that disappointment stems from the fact that so few people followed him when he broke away from the mainstream.

It should be noted that this isn’t a standard issue cinema history documentary – for that, watch Martin Scorsese’s A Personal Journey Through American Film and My Voyage to Italy, both of which are excellent, both for film buffs and newcomers. No, to truly understand Godard’s film, you have to know a lot about cinema before you sit down and watch it – there were times when I was completely overwhelmed by what was being thrown on the screen. To add to the confusion, the version I saw had sparse English subtitles – but I think the important parts are subtitled (I was never very good at French in school, but I remember enough to be able to piece together much of the non-subtitled, oft-repeated phrases).

Histoire(s) du Cinema is finally a love letter to, elegy of and condemnation of cinema, from one of its sharpest minds. I may not like much of Godard’s later output, but I have never doubted that he is, on some level, still a genius – even if I think he has bought too much into his own myth (no one thinks Godard is a genius as much as Godard does). The film is never less than fascinating, even if it does begin to repeat itself after a while. At four and half hours, this is a VERY long sit – and most audiences will grow restless. I do not think this is the masterpiece that its most ardent supporters do, but for what it is, Histoire(s) du Cinema certainly deserves to be more widely seen than it has been (part of that is undoubtedly do to the rights issues of using all those old clips – this held up the DVD release for years apparently). I cannot think of too many people that I would actually recommend sitting through this film to – it requires a patient audience member, willing to indulge Godard – but if the film sounds interesting to you, than I certainly think you should see it.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: Bullet in the Head (1990)

Friday, October 11, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: Bullet in the Head (1990)

Bullet in the Head (1990)
Directed by: John Woo.
Written by: Janet Chun & Patrick Leung & John Woo.
Starring: Tony Leung Chiu Wai (Ah Bee), Jacky Cheung (Fai), Waise Lee (Little Wing), Simon Yam (Luke), Fennie Yuen (Jane), Yolinda Yam (Sally Yen).

Back in the late 1980s and early 1990s, there was no better action filmmaker in the world than John Woo. In films like A Better Tomorrow (1986), and it’s even better sequel A Better Tomorrow II (1987), and his two masterpieces The Killer (1989) and Hard Boiled (1992), Woo elevated gunfight choreography to its very highest level. I suppose it was inevitable that Hollywood would come calling, and after a few disappointing efforts – Hard Target (1993) and Broken Arrow (1995) – Woo made his American masterwork Face/Off (1997), arguably the most entertaining pure action movie made in America in the 1990s. Since then, his career has most been disappointing – Mission Impossible II (2000) was entertaining sure, but it doesn’t come close to Woo’s best work. The less said about Windtalkers (2002) and Paycheck (2003), the better. I did quite like his last film – Red Cliff (2008), although I’ve only ever seen the truncated American release – which cut out roughly half of Woo’s epic return to his homeland.

All of this is a fancy way of saying that I am a John Woo fan, although not as big of one as I once was. I have always meant to check out his 1990 film Bullet in the Head. I remember trying desperately to track this film down back when I was high school and not being able to, so when I came across a copy recently, I couldn’t help myself. I just had to check out what some had referred to as Woo’s best film, and Woo himself had referred to as his “Apocalypse Now” – because he drove himself as crazy as Coppola did making the film.

 

But it wasn’t Apocalypse Now I thought of when watching Bullet in the Head, but another Vietnam film – Michael Cimino’s The Deer Hunter (1978). Like that film, Bullet in the Head is about three friends who go off to Vietnam during the American war there. Of course, these characters are not American, but from Hong Kong, and are not going to fight a war, but to make money. A friend of theirs tells them that wherever there is war, there is money to be made – and these three guys, who fancy themselves criminals - think they can be the ones to make it. But of course, everything gets shot to shit pretty damn quickly.

Woo is a genius at action sequences, and they are the highlight of Bullet in the Head as well. There are multiple chase sequences, and gun battles, and while nothing may quite reach the heights of the opening of Hard Boiled, there is a long sequence in a nightclub when things go bad that comes pretty damn close. And unlike the other Woo movies of the period, this is also a war movie – the three “friends”, who quickly fall apart, eventually find themselves captives of the Vietcong, and like the men in The Deer Hunter, are tormented for their captor’s amusement. In The Deer Hunter, they were forced to play Russian roulette. In Bullet in the Head, they are forced to execute American soldiers, as their captors look on and laugh. But, again like in The Deer Hunter, when you give your prisoners a gun, you give them a weapon they can use against you – and this sets up another epic gun fight.

With all due respect to those who think Bullet in the Head is Woo’s masterpiece, I don’t quite get it. The opening scenes of the film – in Hong Kong (and like The Deer Hunter include a wedding) aren’t very good at all, and in fact are almost embarrassingly simplistic – especially in terms of the dialogue. When the action starts up in the second and third acts, the movie certainly gets far more entertaining – the action sequences are the reason to see the movie, and they are brilliantly staged as we have come to expect from Woo.

But the story of the movie is just far too derivative. I think I’ve mentioned The Deer Hunter about six times now, and that’s because this movie really does seem to go past the point of mere homage, and gets almost into plagiarism territory. Worse, the film makes all the characters more simple and one note than they were in Cimino’s films. Tony Leung is very good as Ah Bee (the Robert DeNiro equivalent), as he maintains his moral compass, and tries desperately to keep the group together. But Waise Lee as Little Wing (the Christopher Walken equivalent) isn’t given all that much to do – and they make him too simple minded – really bordering on mildly retarded. This, I suppose, makes Jacky Cheung’s Fai into the John Savage character, although that really isn’t fair to Savage, who doesn’t become a villain as Fai does here, just a bitter, angry cripple. Fai’s continued attempts to keep the gold he stole become increasingly ridiculous as the narrative goes along. And his final scene with Leung, back in Hong Kong, is gruesome in a way that simply feels exploitive.

I understand the urge that must have went into making Bullet in the Head for Woo. He had just had a falling out with his producing partner, Tsui Hark, who apparently was more powerful than Woo in Hong Kong cinema at the time, and this led to Woo pretty much being blacklisted – he financed much of the movie himself. And Woo wanted to make something more “serious” than the simple gangster-action movie he had been doing. Not only is he addressing the Vietnam war, but he very explicitly references the then recent Tiananmen Square incident (even all these years later, it’s impossible not to think of what happened there when watching Woo pretty much recreate the famous incident, under the guise of something else).

The problem seems to be that Woo doesn’t really have anything to say about the issues he raises – either the Vietnam War or Tiananmen Square. At least nothing anything beyond the most basic. And he lifts so much directly from The Deer Hunter that it detracts from what is great about the film. John Woo is better than most at action movies – and A Bullet in the Head proves that in the action sequences. It also proves why he has so rarely decided to tackle serious subject matter. He’s just not very good at that.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)

Thursday, October 3, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)
Directed by: Robert Wiene.
Written by: Carl Mayer and Hans Janowitz.
Starring: Werner Krauss (Dr. Caligari), Conrad Veidt (Cesare), Friedrich Feher (Francis), Lil Dagover (Jane Olsen), Hans Heinrich von Twardowski (Alan), Rudolf Lettinger (Dr. Olsen).

Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari from 1920 is not likely to scare viewers today as it must have back when it was first released. Yet, that doesn’t diminish the film’s historical importance, and while you won’t be scared while watching the film today, you will also have a fascinating experience. It is so unlike the films that came before it that it is startling. And its techniques have become so ingrained in filmmaking that it has to rank as one of the most important horror films of all time.

The story is justly famous, and has been copied often. Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss) comes to a fair with a “Somnambulist”, who he says is “23 years old, and has been sleeping for 23 years.” This is Cesare (Conrad Veidt), who sleeps in a coffin. Caligari says he can any question about the past, and predict anything about the future. And so it seems to be true when the hero of the movie Francis (Friedrich Feher) and his friend Alan (Hans Heinrich von Twardowski), attend the show and Alan asks how long he will live, and Cesare answers “Until dawn”, and sure enough the next morning, Alan is discovered dead in his bed. Suspicious of Caesare, Francis keeps watch all night, and yet somehow the next morning it appears as if Caesare has kidnapped his fiancée Jane (Lil Dagover), leading to one of the strangest chase sequences in cinema history.

The plot of the movie is probably a little too pat and predictable for today’s audiences. We aren’t necessarily more sophisticated than audiences in 1920 were, but we certainly have sat through more movies like this than they had. Roger Ebert says a case could be made that The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari was the first horror movie ever made, and while I’m sure he’d find many people to disagree with him, what really cannot be argued is that audiences certainly hadn’t seen many if any movies like this before.

The thing that stands out most about the film today is the sets. They are obviously not real, and perhaps even more obviously 2-dimensional. This was odd for the time, but because they could be built cheaply, Wiene could do whatever he wanted with them. Everything in the movie seems to be at odd angles – Wiene shoots much of the movie at these odds angles – but even the “buildings” themselves seem somewhat lopsided, and tilted. That famous chase sequence is the most obvious example of this, as Cesare carries Jane through strange streets and up an even stranger hill. None of it looks real, but it fits in with the hyper-stylization of the film itself. The film is one of (if not) the first example of German Expressionism in film – we would soon see filmmakers like F.W. Murnau take this to even greater extremes in a film like Nosferatu (1922). This marked a departure from what came before, as now filmmakers were not interested in capturing things and locations as how they were, but in creating atmosphere and terror in the audience. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a perfect example of this – and one that remains influential today. Watch the film today, and it may be impossible for you (like it was for me), not to think of Tim Burton – who uses some of the same principles in his set design as Wiene does (especially in his animated films). And as Roger Ebert correctly pointed out, the film’s camera angles and lighting, would later inspire film noir – in films like The Third Man (1949).

I suspect that most of today’s audiences wouldn’t much like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari – just like they wouldn’t like most silent films. Silent films do take a while to get used to – they certainly did for me – and have a different style than the film of today. The require more of a suspension of disbelief, and an audience who will except the exaggerated acting styles, and the technological limitations (for example, the DVD version I saw includes the original tinting of the movie – this isn’t making the film a “color film”, but does give shots and scenes a certain hue – that was meant to create atmosphere). But just because most people are longer interested in a film like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari – that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be. And it doesn’t mean that this isn’t a great film. Yes, you have to look at a film like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari with an historical perspective. But if you’re willing to make the effort, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari offers more rewards than most films of its ilk made today.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: A Touch of Class (1973)

Friday, September 27, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: A Touch of Class (1973)

A Touch of Class (1973)
Directed by: Melvin Frank.
Written by: Melvin Frank and Jack Rose.
Starring: George Segal (Steven 'Steve' Blackburn), Glenda Jackson (Vicki Allessio), Paul Sorvino (Walter Menkes), K Callan (Patty Menkes), Cec Linder (Wendell Thompson), Michael Elwyn (Cecil), Mary Barclay (Martha Thompson), Hildegard Neil (Gloria Blackburn).

Melvin Frank’s A Touch of Class tries very hard to be a modern screwball comedy, taking a more 1970s outlook on romance and adultery and combining it with the type of over the top, out of control, rapid fire dialogue popular in the 1930s. It may have even worked had the two leads felt like they inhabited the same movie – but George Segal plays his role as he played all of his roles in the 1970s – as a modern man – while Glenda Jackson tries very hard, and for the most part succeeds, in channelling an actress like Katherine Hepburn or Rosalind Russell. Either acting style could have worked, but the fact that the two stars approached the film from opposite sides made it hard for me to buy them as a couple in love – and as such it was hard to enjoy the movie as a whole.

Segal stars as Steve, an American insurance broker living and working in London with his wife and two kids. Jackson is Vicki a divorced mother of two, a fashion designer whose job is to copy the dresses of high class designers for far less money. The two meet cute once, then twice, and then go on a few dates, before deciding to sleep together. Not wanting just a cheap fling, they head to Spain for a week – and after everything that can possibly go wrong does, then end up at each other’s throats, wishing they never went on vacation together in the first place – which, in the tradition of all romantic comedies, is of course, when they actually fall in love.

As individual performances, both Segal and Jackson are quite good, it’s just they never really gel together. Segal is far too much of the 1970s man – trying hard to be respectful of an independent woman, yet still far too old fashioned to really do it. He is charming and funny however, as Segal always is. Jackson is even better. Known for much more serious roles – in films like Women in Love (for which she won her first Oscar) and Sunday Bloody Sunday, Jackson shows off her lighter side in A Touch of Class – and was rewarded with her second Oscar. It must have been a weak year for actresses, because even though Jackson is clearly the highlight of the movie, and it is a wonderfully witty performance, there is nothing in it that you don’t see any number of times in any given year. Yes, she`s wonderful, but not Oscar worthy.

That pretty much describes the movie as well. A Touch of Class has been pretty much forgotten by everyone over the years, except for people like me who make an effort to see all Oscar winning performances and Best Picture nominees (and amazingly, in one of the strongest years ever for movies, 1973, this average comedy did in fact get an Oscar nomination for Best Picture). A Touch of Class is a strange movie, because for so much of its length it tries very hard to be a screwball comedy – with mixed results – and yet because Segal is married, we know that the film will not really have a happy ending. The problem with the ending isn`t so much that it’s sad but that it strains credibility. After everything these two people go through, to end it the way the filmmakers do doesn`t quite feel right. As much as I`m not quite sure I liked these two people, they deserved a better ending than writer director Melvin Frank gives them.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: The Towering Inferno (1974)

Friday, September 20, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: The Towering Inferno (1974)

The Towering Inferno (1974)
Directed by: John Guillermin.
Written by: Stirling Silliphant based on the novels by Richard Martin Stern & Thomas N. Scortia
Starring: Steve McQueen (Chief Mike O'Hallorhan), Paul Newman (Doug Roberts), William Holden (Jim Duncan), Faye Dunaway (Susan Franklin), Fred Astaire (Harlee Claiborne), Susan Blakely (Patty), Richard Chamberlain (Simmons), Jennifer Jones (Lisolette), O.J. Simpson (Jernigan), Robert Vaughn (Senator Parker), Robert Wagner (Bigelow), Susan Flannery (Lorrie), Sheila Allen (Paula Ramsay), Norman Burton (Giddings), Jack Collins (Mayor Ramsay), Don Gordon (Kappy), Felton Perry (Scott), Gregory Sierra (Carlos).

The Towering Inferno is a big, dumb, old fashioned, star studded action adventure, which is both a good and bad thing. It’s good because even action blockbusters in the 1970s cared a least a little about getting good actors into the movie to elevate the screenplay, and because unlike modern action movies, the action sequences are clear, well edited and exciting – not overburdened by thudding music, and rapid fire editing that makes everything confusing. It’s bad because it still doesn’t have much of a brain in its head, and because back in the 1970s, they felt that if you made a BIG movie it had to be a LONG movie at the same time – at nearly three hours, The Towering Inferno requires you to suspend your disbelief for far too long. It’s effective – but would have been far more effective had they cut out at least an hour.

The movie takes place in San Francisco, in a brand new sky scrapper – apparently the tallest building in the world, with a huge glass façade. The architect is Doug Roberts (Paul Newman), who has decided to retire now that his triumph is complete, and move to the middle of nowhere with his soon to be wife (Faye Dunaway). What Doug does not know is that to save money, the building’s owner Jim Duncan (William Holden) leaned on subcontractors to find ways to build the building more cheaply than Doug's plans called for. In particular, Duncan's slimy son-in-law Simmons (Richard Chamberlain), who was responsible for the buildings wiring did barely enough to get the building up to code – but considering the load the building has to take, Doug knew that more was required. Of course on the night of the buildings huge opening gala, things go wrong, the electric system malfunctions, a fire starts, and grows out of control – trapping all the VIPS on the top floor, as Doug tries to keep things under control, and fire chief Mike O'Halloran (Steve McQueen) tries to put the fire out.

The Towering Inferno held my interest for its first two hours – and even had some heart pounding moments of excitement, like Newman trying to get to kids and woman up a destroyed staircase. Newman is fine in the role of Roberts –a good man who is upset that his buildings is being destroyed, but even more distraught that people are dying. Steve McQueen is essentially playing Steve McQueen as the fire chief, who is daring and selfless as he tries to save the people in the building. It was also nice to see old timer Fred Astaire in a non-dancing role as a con man, but a sweet, good natured one. He has some nice chemistry with another old timer Jennifer Jones. Richard Chamberlain is appropriately slimy as the guy who cut the most corners – although he is essentially there because the movie needs a human villain, and he is fairly one note. Most of the rest of the cast is limited to one note roles, although since the cast is full of great actors, they do add some nice notes to their roles.

The action climax of The Towering Inferno – involving a whole hell of lot of water – is well handled, but by then, I had grown tired of the movie, and just wanted it to end. As well made as the film is, it simply goes on far too long, and eventually, I grew restless. It is certainly preferable to a film by Michael Bay – but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a great movie.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: An Unmarried Woman (1978)

Friday, August 30, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: An Unmarried Woman (1978)

An Unmarried Woman (1978)
Directed by: Paul Mazursky.
Written by: Paul Mazursky.
Starring: Jill Clayburgh (Erica), Alan Bates (Saul), Michael Murphy (Martin), Cliff Gorman (Charlie), Patricia Quinn (Sue), Kelly Bishop (Elaine), Lisa Lucas (Patti), Linda Miller (Jeannette), Andrew Duncan (Bob), Daniel Seltzer (Dr. Jacobs), Matthew Arkin (Phil), Penelope Russianoff (Tanya).

We seem to get a few films like An Unmarried Woman every year now, but back in 1978, this film must have seemed daring and original. And what is remarkable about Paul Mazursky’s 1978 film is even though it has been copied many times since, and inspired some wonderful films, is that it still feels fresh and original more than 30 years later. I’m not sure I am fully convinced by the ending – but perhaps it’s not quite as happy as it at first seems. The more I think about the ending, the better it seems to me.

The film centers on Erica – played by Jill Clayburgh in arguably her best performance, and one of the best female performances of the 1970s – who believes she is happily married to Martin (Michael Murphy), a rich and successful man of Wall Street. They have an easy relationship with each other – even their fights seem breezy – and even after 17 years together, they are still attracted to each other, and enjoy an active sex life. They love their teenage daughter, and have an open, honest relationship with her. That’s why it comes as such a shock to her when Martin breaks down one day – overly theatrically – and tells her that he has fallen in love with another – younger – woman and wants a divorce.

The movie handles these early scenes – where we know something is wrong before Erica does – well, but handles what comes next even better. Erica is angry and confused, and starts to doubt herself. Why did Martin leave her? Wasn’t she good enough, sexy enough, supportive enough? How could he possibly do this to her. Many of the best scenes in the movie deal with Erica talking things out with her three best friends – some of whom have been through before her – as the talk openly and honestly about sex, their lives, their fears and everything else. She also talks to a therapist about some of the same issues – and gets honest helpful advice. And then there are the scenes between her and her daughter, who is also hurt and confused by her father’s abandonment – as the two take it out on each other. These are the strongest scenes in the movie, and perhaps it could well be said that Mazursky is a better writer than director, as his writing is  open, honest, sometimes brutally so, and yet often quite funny.

The third act of the film is about how Erica slowly comes out of her shell – as the wounds start to heal from her sudden abandonment by her husband. She makes a few tentative steps towards getting back out there into the dating world. But it isn’t until she meets Saul (Alan Bates), an artist, that she truly lets her guard down and allows herself to open up and perhaps be hurt again.

As I was watching An Unmarried Woman, I thought that perhaps this third act was a little too hopeful – that Bates’ Saul was a little too perfect to be believed. It doesn’t go as far as say a Tyler Perry movie where the spurned woman always seems to meet the perfect man, but it seemed to come close. And yet, the more I think about it, the more complex this relationship seems. Saul is seemingly too good to be true, and during the course of the movie, he proves that. His flaws slowly start coming up – and perhaps he isn’t the solution to Erica’s problems, but just the beginning of a whole new set of them. The movie ends on a seemingly happy note, but perhaps it’s not quite as happy as it seems.

The movie is mainly a triumph for Clayburgh, who was given the best role of her career, and quite simply delivers a magnificent performance. This is an open, honest performance, without an ounce or pretension or ego. Her Erica is a complete person – flawed, yet lovable, funny, angry, resentful all at the same time. It is a wonderful screenplay by Mazursky, expertly observed, but it required a great performance by Clayburgh to truly make the film work. He found the perfect actress for the role. An Unmarried Woman is an often imitated “woman’s movie”, but one whose honesty remains unmatched.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: The Dresser (1983)

Thursday, August 22, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: The Dresser (1983)

The Dresser (1983)
Directed by: Peter Yates.
Written by: Ronald Harwood based on his play.
Starring: Albert Finney (Sir), Tom Courtenay (Norman), Edward Fox (Oxenby), Zena Walker (Her Ladyship), Eileen Atkins (Madge), Michael Gough (Frank Carrington), Cathryn Harrison (Irene), Betty Marsden (Violet Manning), Sheila Reid (Lydia Gibson).

The Dresser is about the stereotypical egotistical actor who cannot see any of the people around him except in the way they can serve him – and about his ever loyal dresser who gets him through one performance at a time with his complete and total devotion to him. It an over the top theatrical melodrama/comedy that stays just this side of becoming ridiculous – and anchored by two great performances by Albert Finney as the actor, and Tom Courtenay as his ever loyal dresser.

The movie takes place over two nights – beginning as a performance of Othello is just wrapping up, and then involving taking everything apart and travelling to a different theater in a different city to put on a performance of King Lear. Albert Finney’s Sir is an actor who always seems to be “on” – he is larger than life in everything he does – from putting on his performances on stage, to the way he deals with the other actors off stage, to simply putting on his makeup. He is clearly not well – on the day he is supposed to play Lear, he goes crazy in town, and has to be hospitalized briefly. But nothing can keep him from the stage – not even himself. He is convinced he cannot possibly go on, but Norman, his dresser, will not let him give up. Despite the fact Sir doesn’t even know what play he is supposed to be putting on (he starts putting on black face to play Othello again), or that even when he does realize that he is supposed to play Lear, cannot remember any of his lines, Norman will not let him give up – getting him ready by sheer force of will, and assuring everyone else that Sir is fine, when he clearly is not.

The supporting cast is filled with interesting character who get a few good scenes – Edward Fox as a resentful supporting player who thinks he should be the star, Zena Walker as Sir’s wife, who cares for him in a way, but knows he would probably wouldn’t notice if she was gone. Eileen Atkins as the stage manager who has held a not so secret love for Sir for years. And Cathryn Harrison, as a young actress who thinks that Sir may be in love with her, when really, he just thinks that because she is skinnier than his wife, she would be easier to carry on stage when he needs to.

Yet as good as the supporting players are, this is really a two person show. As Sir, Albert Finney is a great, boisterous presence who commands every scene he is in. He is a man of massive ego who doesn’t seem to realize just how much everyone around him has to do to make sure the plays go off without a hitch – in his mind, he’s the center of everything. And Tom Courtenay is even better as Norman, his dresser, who lets Sir think just that. He has devoted his life to Sir, but sees himself as the real heartbeat of the theater – Sir would be nothing without him, and he is sure that Sir sees it the same way. The fact that Sir cannot seem to be bothered to care about Norman at all, never seems to dawn on him. Courtney’s final scene is when he finally gets to see everything as what it really is – and it’s devastating to him.

 
The film was directed by Peter Yates, who was an under rated director, perhaps because you never really knew what to expect from him on a movie by movie basis. He made two great films – the crime film The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973) that gave Robert Mitchum one of the best roles of his career, and the small town biking drama Breaking Away (1979) about the rivalry between the townies and the students in an University town. In The Dresser, he spends a great deal of time focusing on the backstage drama – the details of what needs to get done to put on a play – and there are some great moments (a highlight would be what needs to be done to create the sound effects for the storm scene in Lear). But he also clearly sees this movie for what it is – a character study of a man, Norman, who doesn’t realize how the rest of the world, especially Sir, sees him, and how it destroys him to find out. You go through The Dresser thinking it is an entertaining backstage comedy, and then realize just how deeply felt it is only at the end.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: The Turning Point (1977)

Friday, August 16, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: The Turning Point (1977)

The Turning Point (1977)
Directed by: Herbert Ross.
Written by: Arthur Laurents.
Starring: Anne Bancroft (Emma), Shirley MacLaine (Deedee), Tom Skerritt (Wayne), Mikhail Baryshnikov (Yuri), Leslie Browne (Emilia), Martha Scott (Adelaide), Antoinette Sibley (Sevilla Haslam), Alexandra Danilova (Madame Dahkarova), Starr Danias (Carolyn), Marshall Thompson (Carter), James Mitchell (Michael), Daniel Levans (Arnold), Scott Douglas (Freddie Romoff), Lisa Lucas (Janina), Phillip Saunders (Ethan), Jurgen Schneider (Peter).

Herbert Ross’ The Turning Point is a movie about ballet that has very little to offer audiences except for some absolutely gorgeous dance numbers. But unlike the two best dramatic movies about ballet I have ever seen – Powell and Pressburger’s The Red Shoes (1948) and Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan (2010) the dance scenes are not fully integrated into the story. Both of those other films had dances sequences that were thematically relevant to the rest of the movie – that enhanced the story and the themes. In The Turning Point, as good as the ballet scenes are, they are standalone highlights. The story, which is clichéd and not very interesting to begin with, is stopped cold every time people begin to dance.

The movie is about two former rivals, one of whom went on to become the biggest star in America’s best ballet company, the other got pregnant, left the company and has spent the past 18 years being a wife, mother and small town dance teacher. They are brought together once again when the ballet company comes to Oklahoma City, where the wife and mother, lives. To be nice, they let her oldest daughter practice with the company – and when it becomes clear that she is really a star in the making, they invite her to join. So mother and daughter head off to New York for the summer – but whose dream they are really pursuing is not really clear.

Anne Bancroft plays Emma, the woman who went onto become the biggest ballet star in America. But like all ballerinas, her shelf life is limited – and she is already well past her best before date. She was celebrated for years, but the truth in ballet, like any profession based on physical prowess, is that eventually, your career will come to an end. Shirley Maclaine is Deedee, Emma’s one time rival, who has spent the past two decades wondering if she could have become Emma had she not gotten pregnant before the company decided which one of the two of them would play the lead in Anna Karenina – because she left, Emma’s path was unobstructed. But could Deedee have been that famous. And now that her daughter Emilia (Leslie Browne) has been invited to join the company, can she do what her mother could not? And will Emma, who is now too old to be a star ballet dancer, and too old to become a mother, try and become a mother to Emilia to try and remain relevant? And is Yuri (Mikhail Baryshnokov), the young, beautiful, womanizing Russian star of the company, really interested in Emilia, or does he just want to make her another of her conquests?

The Turning Point holds the undistinguished honor to be the most nominated film in Oscar history (11 nominations) not to win a single Oscar, which raises the question if the Academy really loved the film, or if it was a film they thought they were supposed to love. The tone of The Turning Point is all over the map. I could never quite tell if the film was trying to be a modern (for the 1970s) portrait of women breaking out of their traditional roles, or just a campy, old fashioned catfight film. There are elements of both. The marriage between Deedee and Wayne (Tom Skeritt) is troubled, but given a modern treatment – one that realizes that sometimes things can break down temporarily, that both can be flawed, but that they want to stay together. And the portrait of Emma is one where she made the choice to follow the career she loves instead of having a family, and wondering if she made the right decision. But then again, there are moments where the two rivals literally get catty with each other – the climax is a catfight between the two of them that feels completely out of place. Had the filmmakers embraced one tone or another – a modern, feminist film, or an old fashioned campy catfight, the film could have worked. Because it tried to do both, it didn’t.

Then there is the question of the youngsters. Both Baryshnokov and Browne were nominated for their supporting performances, despite the fact that both are quite simply awful in all of their dramatic scenes. Yes, they are beautiful dancers, but their dramatic story completely and totally falls flat. There is simply no emotion there.

Overall, I kept waiting for The Turning Point to settle into its story, and it never quite does. It tries too hard to do too much, and as a result, the film left me unsatisfied. Yes, the dancing is beautiful, but there needs to be more to the film than just that to make The Turning Point into a good movie.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964)

Friday, August 2, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964)

Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964)
Directed by: Byron Haskin.
Written by: John C. Higgins & Ib Melchior based on the novel by Daniel Defoe.
Starring: Paul Mantee (Cmdr. Christopher 'Kit' Draper), Victor Lundin (Friday), Adam West (Col. Dan McReady), The Wooley Monkey (Mona).

Robinson Crusoe on Mars is about as cheesy as you expect a movie with that title to be. It’s also a hell of a lot of fun, and at times genuinely moving. The film was directed by Byron Haskin, who directed on the great 1950s sci-fi films, The War of Worlds, and before that had been an F/X guru in the 1940s, and before that, had worked as a cinematographer stretching back to the silent era. The visual look of Robinson Crusoe on Mars, shot in California’s Death Valley, is eerie. Using the clear blue sky as a natural blue screen, Haskin makes Mars’ sky red and foreboding. Strangely, Daniel Defoe’s classic tale of a man trapped alone of the desert island makes an easy transition to Mars. This may not be a great film, but it’s an interesting one.

The film opens with Kit Draper (Paul Mantee) and his partner Dan McReady (Adam West), alongside their trusty monkey Mona, circling Mars in the hope of gathering information about it. But something goes wrong, and then have to eject in their pods while they let the ship orbit. Their plan is to rejoin their ship when they are out of danger. But they have to take separate ones down, and while Kit makes it, his crashes, so it won’t be of use later. McReady isn’t even that lucky. So Kit has to spend his time on Mars alone, with no one but Mona to keep him company. At first, he thinks his death is inevitable – it’s only a matter of time before he runs out of air, water and food. But eventually, he’ll figure out how to get what he needs to survive on Mars. Companionship is what he really needs though, and Mona simply isn’t enough. He starts to go a little mad – but is essentially rescued when he meets Friday (Victor Lundin), essentially a slave on Mars used for mining. His odd appearance, making him look like an Egyptian in the time of the Pharaohs, is off-putting at first, but Lundin wins you over. We never see the actual Martians who have enslaved them – just their ships, which look almost exactly like the ones in War of the Worlds, but move with a herky jerky motion that is distracting, but memorable. They can track Friday through the bracelets they have forced him to wear. But Kit is determined to not let them catch his new friend – and the three of them (including Mona, of course), try to outrun them.

I admit, when the movie started, I thought I was in trouble. The opening scenes, on the ship, are not very good – marred by the ham-fisted acting by West in particular. West redeems himself later, when he appears as a creepy apparition to Kit, but those first scenes were not good. Once we get to Mars however, the movie picks up. Mantee was a fairly young, inexperienced actor when he made this film, but he does a great job, with a difficult role. As we have seen time and again, it’s hard for an actor when he’s the only one on screen for an extended period of time – they have no one to act off of. Though Mona the Monkey is clearly a talented monkey actor, she isn’t much help. And just when things start to become a little dull, Friday comes in, and saves the final act.

The film isn’t great – it won’t live in my memory like The War of the Worlds does. But it is well made, visually appealing from start to finish, with many creative special effects and carried by Mantee’s performance. You most likely already know if you want to see a movie called Robinson Crusoe on Mars. If you do, you won’t be disappointed.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: Modern Romance (1981)

Friday, July 26, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: Modern Romance (1981)

Modern Romance (1981)
Directed by: Albert Brooks.
Written by: Albert Brooks & Monica Johnson.
Starring: Albert Brooks (Robert Cole), Kathryn Harrold (Mary Harvard), Bruno Kirby (Jay), Jane Hallaren (Ellen), Bob Einstein (Sporting Goods Salesman), James L. Brooks (David), George Kennedy (Himself and Zeron).

The characters that Albert Brooks write for himself are among the most self involved in movie history. From Real Life (1979) to Lost in America (1985) to Defending Your Life (1991) to Mother (1996) to The Muse (1999) to Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World (2006), Brooks is essentially playing a man who is constantly second guessing every decision he makes. He is fully committed to making the decision until he makes it, and then analyzes it to death until he realizes he made a mistake, and then tries to go back and undo what he’s done – and this starts the process all over again. There is obviously an element to Brooks himself in these characters – hell twice, he has even played characters named Albert Brooks – because I think Brooks always wants to do the right thing, but is never really sure what the hell that is.

No where is this more true than in Brooks second film, Modern Romance. Brooks plays Robert Cole, a successful film editor working on what looks like a horrible movie starring GeorgeKennedy and directed by David (James L. Brooks, who would give Albert one of the best roles of his career in Broadcast News). In the films first scene, Brooks has broken up – again – with his longtime girlfriend Mary (Kathryn Harrold). She is frustrated that once again, Robert has broken up with her, and tells him not to call this time. Robert says don’t worry about it – and than immediately starts to worry that he has made the wrong decision.

The first half of the film is pretty much Brooks, wandering around his apartment, bitching on the phone to his assistant editor, going shopping, and going over and over his decision to break up with Mary to determine if he was right or wrong. At times, it is nearly a one man show, and Brooks nails it perfectly. There is a brilliant, hilarious scene in a sporting goods store where the salesman (Bob Einstein, Brooks’ brother and best known as Super Dave Osborne), convinces him to buy the top of the line running gear. But no matter Robert does, he cannot shake the feeling that he made a mistake in breaking up with Mary. The next day, of course, the two of them get back together. The second half of the film pretty much details why Robert and Mary shouldn’t be together. He’s insecure and jealous. She’s cold and distant. They do nothing but argue, no matter where they are or what they’re doing.

The star of the show is of course, Brooks. Harrold does a fine job with Mary, but it’s more of a one note character. The supporting cast – Bruno Kirby as the assistant editor, James L. Brooks as the director and GeorgeKennedy as himself – allow Brooks to poke fun at movie making, and in this he mines some great laughs (I loved the scene where Brooks has to add louder footsteps to the sound mix).

I think in the end, Brooks’ films are basically about how he needs to get over himself – accept his flaws and the flaws of others in order to be happy. But Brooks will never be happy, because he’ll never be able to do that. I tire of movies that put up end titles that explain what happens to the characters after the movie is over – but in Modern Romance, they work brilliantly.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: A Face in the Crowd (1957)

Thursday, July 18, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: A Face in the Crowd (1957)

A Face in the Crowd (1957)
Directed by: Elia Kazan.
Written by: Budd Schulberg based on his short story.
Starring: Andy Griffith (Larry 'Lonesome' Rhodes), Patricia Neal (Marcia Jeffries), Anthony Franciosa (Joey DePalma), Walter Matthau (Mel Miller), Lee Remick (Betty Lou Fleckum), Percy Waram (Gen. Haynesworth), Paul McGrath (Macey), Rod Brasfield (Beanie), Marshall Neilan (Senator Worthington Fuller), Alexander Kirkland (Jim Collier), Charles Irving (Mr. Luffler), Howard Smith (J.B. Jeffries).

Elia Kazan’s A Face in the Crowd is one of those movies that was years ahead of its time when it was made. In 1957, the film probably seemed a little far fetched and unbelievable, but flash forward 54 years, and A Face in the Crowd seems realistic in its cynicism about the intersection of fame and politics. Like Sidney Lumet and Paddy Chayefsky’s Network or Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers, Kazan and writer Budd Schulberg saw something in the culture before most people had picked up on it, and delivered this perceptive, cynicial, funny tragedy of modern times. It is, quite simply, a masterpiece.

Andy Griffth, in his first major role, well before he became known to everyone as Sheriff Andy, plays Larry “Lonesome” Rhodes, a small time drifter picked up and put in jail in a small backwater town on a charge of drunk and disorderly conduct. This is where Marcia Jefferies (Patricia Neal) finds him. Her uncle runs the local radio station, and she does a segment called “A Face in the Crowd”, where she lets normal people tell their stories. She decides to do one broadcast from the local jail, and in Rhodes, she finds an undiscovered star. He is funny, charming, witty, sings and plays the guitar and can tell a story with the best of them. She doesn’t just want to do a one time segment with him, but convinces him to host a daily radio show. It becomes a huge hit, and soon TV is calling. They want him to do a weekly show from Memphis. But Rhodes plays by his own rules, and tells it as he sees it to the audiences – mocking his mattress salesman sponsor and the inane ad copy they want him to read on the air. This would spell the end of your career – unless you’re as popular as Rhodes, in which case, it gets you a TV show in New York, with a National Audience. A few short months after being a penniless drifter, Rhodes in the biggest TV star in the country. And of course, he’s changed. He likes the fame the TV show brings him, the power and the money and especially the women. It doesn’t matter that his new sponsor is selling a pill that does absolutely nothing – he hocks it as a miracle pill, implying it is an aide in sexual prowess. He brings Marcia along, of course. She’s the brains behind everything, and he needs her to run it. And despite the fact that he’ll screw anything that moves, she still loves him. He uses this to his advantage – and even proposes to her. But not even the fact that on a trip he ends up marrying an 18 year old baton twirler (Lee Remnick, also making her film debut) can make Marcia stop loving him – and trying to protect him. Not even when he has completely sold out, and is not just hocking worthless pills, but a worthless Presidential candidate as well, can get her to give up on him.

A Face in the Crowd is a deeply cynical film. It presents Rhodesas little more than a country bumpkin, who grows too big for his britches. He doesn’t seem to know anything about politics, but that doesn’t matter. His sponsor wants Senator Worthington, an untelegenic, weak willed man to be President, so Rhodes uses his show to promote that. Rhodesdoesn’t care about Worthington’s ideas, and says no one else does either. All they need to see is Worthington acting like the rest of them – going hunting, talking in a down home country accent, and spouting off meaningless sound bites. Rhodes has no problem when his sponsor and Worthington tell him that the “workingman”, who Rhodes is supposed to represent, is too stupid to govern themselves, so they need a high powered, intellectual elite to guide them with a firm hand. Rhodeseven goes as far as to create another show, that is just him talking to “yokels” about his political ideas, who of course eat up every word he says as if it was the gospel.

The movie was ahead of its time in the way it tied together entertainment and politics. While many have compared someone like Glenn Beck to Peter Finch’s Howard Beale from Network, some have pointed out the similarities between people like Beck and Lonesome Rhodes. They talk like they’re one of the little guys, one of the underdogs, when really they are powerful and wealthy beyond measure – and they have a vested interest in maintaining that power. Elections stop being about who is most qualified, or who will do a better job or even who you agree with, but it becomes a mere popularity contest, based on how people come across on TV. It has often been said that in the age of TV, Franklin Roosevelt and his wheelchair never would have become President. Why? Not because of his politics, but because of his appearance. A Face in the Crowd was ahead of the curve in pointing all this out.

In a movie like this, a lot depends on the performances. Walter Matthau is in fine form as someone who sees through Rhodes from the beginning, but sticks around because he’s in love with Marcia. Lee Remnick is perfect as the doe-eyed ingénue turned sexpot, who loves fame as much as Rhodes does. Patricia Neal may never have been better than she is here as the woman who cannot help but be drawn to Rhodes, despite her better judgment, and how that all but destroys her. But most of all, there is Andy Griffth. It takes a scene or two to get over seeing Sheriff Andy in this role, but that does go away rather quickly. This is a loud, boisterous performance – not a whole lot of subtlety, but since Rhodes is not a subtle character, it works brilliantly. It is a big, bold, brash performance, and Griffth nails it.

If I have one problem with the movie, it’s the ending. It all seems a little too neat for me. I wish that the film had a darker, more cynical ending – one that didn’t insist on giving Rhodes his comeuppance, which strikes me as more wishful thinking that realistic. And the ending goes far too easy on Marcia, who afterall, created this monster, and even though she destroys him as well, gets away too cleanly for my tastes.

But that’s a minor flaw, in what is one of the great films from the 1950s. I have no idea why it took me so long to watch this film. It is a masterpiece in every way imaginable.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: They Live (1988)

Friday, June 28, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: They Live (1988)

They Live (1988)
Directed by: John Carpenter.
Written by: John Carpenter based on the short story by Ray Nelson.
Starring: Roddy Piper (John Nada), Keith David (Frank Armitage), Meg Foster (Holly Thompson), George 'Buck' Flower (The Drifter), Peter Jason (Gilbert), Raymond St. Jacques (Street Preacher).

I have long been a fan of John Carpenter. Films like Assault on Precinct 13 (1976), Halloween (1978), The Thing (1981), Escape from New York (1982) and even, dare I saw it, Ghosts of Mars (2001) are great throwbacks to the days of Howard Hawks. His films, like the work of Hawks, has largely been conservative or right leaning. Which makes his 1988 horror-satire They Live all the more confusing, as it is certainly a left leaning movie, even as it disguises itself with right wing tropes and clichés. They Live was a reaction to 8 years of Ronald Reagan as President, and (at that time) possibly four more years under Reagon’s VP George Bush. Carpenter, who maybe more conservative than most Hollywood filmmakers, was no fan of Reagan, and he compared his Presidency to fascism and wanted to show the hypocrisy in it. Perhaps that’s why They Live is often celebrated as one of Carpenter’s best films. But to me, the satire is rather tame and toothless, the movie confused, and weighed down by clichés and a central performance by a wrestler, who let’s face it, cannot act to save his life. They are some great moments in They Live. But the whole movie adds up to very little.

Homeless after being fired from his job, construction worker John Nada (Rowdy Roddy Piper) walks from Denver to L.A. looking for work. He finds it, working under the table on a construction site, but the job doesn’t pay well, so he ends up living in a shanty town that fellow worker Frank (Keith David) invites him along. Depite being homeless and unemployed John “still believes in America”, that if you work hard, you can make a success of yourself. But then he starts noticing some strange things going on in a church across the street. When he goes to investigate, he finds the constantly singing choir is just a recording. When the police invade the church – and then destroy the shanty town – John finds a box full of sunglasses, and puts a pair on. Immediately, his world changes. It goes from color to black and white. Ads no longer look the same and are now just single words or phrases that give their underlying message “Consume”, “Marry and Reproduce”, “Watch TV”, “Don’t Question Authority”, “Obey”, etc. More shockingly, some of the people he sees aren’t really people, but hideous, bug eyed aliens. It turns out that aliens have already taken over America, invisible to the naked eye. They want to make Earth into “their third world”, and all humans are either controlled by the messages in their TVs, or willing collaborators with the regime for financial payoff. The church was the headquarters of the only group committed to fighting the aliens.

I don’t know – maybe this all seemed radical back in 1988, but to me, it seems rather tame. Carpenter is obviously comparing the aliens to Reagan and his administration, who was trying to brainwash people into accepting whatever he put out there. And that’s a little bit of a stretch. But it could have easily worked. But I think Carpenter, so beholden to genres clichés, can never really get out of his own way. The film echoes Carpenter’s idol Hawks far too much – the endless fight scene between John and Frank before they can become friends, is a typical Hawks trait. As are the snappy, sexist one liners that Piper spews (which is supposed to be okay, I guess, because they’re directed at aliens posing as women, and not women themselves). Piper is essentially playing the role that Kurt Russell usually played for Carpenter. The difference is that Russell made it work, and Piper doesn’t. When he delivers the films most famous line - “I’ve come here to kick ass and chew bubble gum. And I’m all out of bubble gum” –Piper cannot make it work. It just sounds dumb.

There are still some great moments in They Live – as there are in any Carpenter film. The first is the sequence following Piper first putting on the sunglasses, which is a small tour de force for Carpenter behind the camera. The sequence that ends the film is full of some great, comedic moments as well. But these moments are few and far between.

Near the end of They Live, John Carpenter has two film critics on TV (obviously meant to be Siskel and Ebert) who are exposed as aliens and complaining about “filmmakers like George A. Romero and John Carpenter” who have gone too far. This shout out to Romero, as well as putting his name in the same sentence, is supposed to signal that Carpenter wanted to make a film like Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (or its sequels Dawn of the Dead and Day of the Dead), which combined social commentary with horror. The difference between what Romero achieved in those films (and later in Land of the Dead and Diary of the Dead, and even in parts of the most recent, Survival of the Dead), is that while Romero is using the zombie genre to comment on things like racism, the demise of the American family, consumerism, the military industrial complex, capitalism and war, the satire is never pushed to the front of the movie like Carpenter has done with They Live. It’s both more subtle, yet more on target and incisive than Carpenter has pulled off with They Live. That’s why Romero is a master. And why Carpenter, as good as he can be, is a step or two behind him.

The Best Movies I Have Never Seen Before: Get Carter (1971)

Friday, June 21, 2013

The Best Movies I Have Never Seen Before: Get Carter (1971)

Get Carter (1971)
Directed by: Mike Hodges.
Written by: Mike Hodges based on the novel by Ted Lewis.
Starring: Michael Caine (Jack Carter), Ian Hendry (Eric Paice), Britt Ekland (Anna), John Osborne (Cyril Kinnear), Tony Beckley (Peter the Dutchman), GeorgeSewell (Con McCarty), Geraldine Moffat (Glenda), Dorothy White (Margaret), Rosemarie Dunham (Edna), Petra Markham (Doreen Carter), Alun Armstrong (Keith), Bryan Mosley (Cliff Brumby), Glynn Edwards (Albert Swift), Bernard Hepton (Thorpe), Terence Rigby (Gerald Fletcher), John Bindon (Sid Fletcher), Godfrey Quigley (Eddie), Kevin Brennan (Harry).

Get Carter is s shocking violent, cruel and nihilistic little revenge film. What starts out as a seemingly normal little revenge film, becomes increasingly coldhearted as it goes along, culiminating in an nihilistic finish to what is a truly great British gangster film. Michael Caine apparently once told Bob Hoskins that there were only three great British gangsters films “I was in one (Get Carter), you were in another (The Long Good Friday) and we both in the other (Mona Lisa)”. I have seen The Long Good Friday and Mona Lisa, and they are truly great films. And Caine was right – Get Carter is just as great.

Caine stars as Jack Carter, a Londongangster, who decides to head up North to his old hometown of Newcastle when his brother gets killed. The police think it was simply a drunk driving accident, and Carter’s gangland bosses don’t want him to go either, saying they have connections up there, and they don’t want him mucking them up. But he doesn’t care – he’s going anyway. When he arrives, he is underestimated by the local gangsters – they think he’s little more than a big city dandy, playing at being a tough guy. But Carter is tough – and soon he’s playing one bad guy off of another, trying to dig into the truth.

Carter was never really close with his brother. One of his brothers friends, after he gets the crap kicked out of him, which Carter knew was most likely coming but did nothing to stop it, tells him that his brother was right – Carter really is a shit. And he is. He doesn’t care about his brother or his death – not really – but it’s really more of the principle of the thing. He was Carter’s brother, he was killed, and he wants to know why, and who did it. The only person he seems to care about at all is his niece Doreen (Petra Markham), who may well be his daughter since he had an affair with his brother’s wife years ago. Carter seems cold, detached and emotionless for much of the movie. He’s there on a “job”, and he’ll do it. But when he finds out that Doreen has been taken advantage of in a cruel way, that’s when he gets angry, and the bodies start to pile up.

It’s during the film’s final reel that the violence gets shocking, which gave British censors fits in 1971 when the film was released. Particularly bothersome to them was a cruel, cold scene where Carter forces his brother’s “once a week prostitute” Margaret (Dorothy White) to strip at gunpoint, and then forces her to take a lethal overdose of heroin. Margaret really isn’t guilty of much, but to Carter she is really just a means to an end. He wants to get someone else in trouble, and knows a dead prostitute at his house will do the trick – and Margaret fits the bill.

Get Carter has elements of film noir – and director Mike Hodges plays with this a little, having Carter read Chandler’s Farewell My Lovely on his train ride for example. But that’s just about the only light hearted moment in the film. If film noir presented a world without heroes, just different levels of rotten, than Get Carter certainly fits the bill. The “hero” of the movie is just as bad as everyone else in it. He’s a cruel, sociopathic murderer, who is going after other cruel, sociopathic murderers. And in this role, Michael Caine may just give the best performance of his career. His Carter is like a shark – constantly moving, constantly on the prowl and looking to move in for the kill. He is the typical post modern man – defined on his actions alone. He has no time for introspection. We see echoes of his Carter in lots of movies today. Caine, who is recent years seems to have transformed himself into a kind, grandfatherly like presence in movie like The Cider House Rules (for which he won his second Oscar), was not always so nice. In Get Carter, he’s downright cruel, and his eventual end is the only one that fits the movie.

Director Mike Hodges has never really achieved the level of Get Carter again in his career. In recent years, he has returned to the gangster genre, and made two fine films starring Clive Own – Croupier and I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead. But neither match the ruthless, cruel effeiciency of Get Carter. This film is masterful.

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: Made in U.S.A. (1966)

Friday, June 14, 2013

The Best Films I Have Never Seen Before: Made in U.S.A. (1966)

Made in USA (1966)
Directed by: Jean-Luc Godard.
Written by: Jean-Luc Godard based on the novel  by Donald E. Westlake.
Starring: Anna Karina (Paula Nelson), László Szabó (Richard Widmark), Jean-Pierre Léaud (Donald Siegel), Marianne Faithfull (Marianne Faithfull), Yves Afonso (David Goodis).

So once again, I must tackle the difficult, thorny issue of Jean-Luc Godard. Few directors can claim to have had a bigger impact on cinema history than Godard has had – even if he had never directed again, after his first film, Breathless, the same could be said. But through the early and mid-1960s, Godard made some truly wonderful films – films in love with movies themselves, yet also bold and different than anything that was being done by anyone else – even his New Wave cohorts. Not all of those films are great, but they are all interesting (and I still have a few left to see). But his 1966 film Made in USA is quite obviously a turning point for him. There is still a love of movies on display in this film – hell Godard even said one of his motivating factors in making this film was to remake Howard Hawks’ The Big Sleep with Anna Karaina, his muse and ex-wife, in the Humphrey Bogart role. Yet, Made in USA also points Godard in the far more political direction his career was about to take. Shot simultaneously as 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her (which personally, I thought was awful), Made in USAis as bold and different as anything Godard has ever made. But it’s not as satisfying as some of his other films – Breathless, My Life to Live, Band of Outsiders or Contempt to name a few.

The plot is pretty much incomprehensible, which is what Godard wanted. After all, if he was inspired by The Big Sleep, than it would pretty much have to be complex, as even Hawks has admitted he has no idea who committed one murder (he thought he knew, until someone pointed out to him that character had committed suicide before the murder took place). It has Anna Karina as Paula Nelson, a sort of PI, who shows up in “Atlantic City” (although it’s clearly Paris) looking to find her boyfriend, and discovering that he is already dead. She tries to piece together the clues of what happened, but Godard is simply playing with us. He doesn’t want us to figure out the plot, or else he wouldn’t end scenes abruptly, before we find out what we need to know, or obscure important dialogue with street noise and other sound tricks. The movie sets off its action when Paula kills a meddlesome man who barges into her hotel room. But if you can figure out why she killed him, or why he barged in on her in the first place, you’re a step ahead of me.

And so, what we are left with is a movie that really isn’t about its plot as much as it is about itself, and about Karina. By 1966, she had become a cinematic and style icon, and at times in Made in USA, with ever changing costumes, and the way she walks, you get the sense that you are watching a fashion show. Her bold, bright outfits are the highlights of Godard’s bold, bright movie. She is also the only character who the movie has any sort of focus on. The rest of the characters drift in and out – including Jean-Pierre Leaud (Antoine Doinel himself), who has perhaps the most hilariously over the top death scene I have ever seen.

But Made in USAalso points Godard in the more political direction his films would take – both obviously, and not so. He has two characters named Richard Nixon and Robert McNamara, who claim to like violence and killing. And the whole murder plot wasn’t just a reference to The Big Sleep, but also to the murder of Ben Baraka, a Morrocan revolutionary caught by the French, and the apparent suicide of gangster/film producer Georges Figon. That might have been helpful information to know before I saw the movie, but I doubt it.

But if Made in USAisn’t as satisfying as some of Godard’s other early films, it is at least fascinating to look at and ponder. Somewhere along the way, Godard has become lost in his own pretensions, so we end up with a film like Film Socialisme (2010) that makes no sense, but has defenders who twist themselves into knots trying to explain its brilliance. Made in USA is balanced precariously between the filmmaker Godard was, and the one he would become.