August 2007: 20 Mini Reviews
August 19, 2007
The last 20 films I’ve seen.
After the Wedding (’07): A man seeking funds for his children’s homeless shelter becomes privy to information about a daughter he never knew existed, and the deeply personal emotions such a revelation brings out on all parties concerned, in this exceptionally acted drama from Denmark. Mads Mikkelsen, the blood weeping villain in “Casino Royale”, plays the unsuspecting new father, while Rolf Lassgard is the dying patriarch of the family that raised Mikkelsen’s unknown daughter, whose daddy drama comes, hence the title, after her wedding night. Nominated last year in the strong Best Foreign Film category, this is one of the better imports of the year.
Ace in the Hole (’51): Praise be to the Criterion Collection for finally restoring and making available this hard-to-find Billy Wilder minor masterpiece, his follow up to “Sunset Boulevard”, and one of the hardest hitting films about journalistic ambition and moral degradation ever made. Kirk Douglas is the enterprising Chuck Tatum, a down-on-his-luck former big time newspaperman, who sees in a man trapped in an ancient Indian mountain the story that can bring him back his headlines, if only he could stretch it out for a few more days. Wilder and Douglas revel in Tatum’s seemingly unscrupulous motives to keep the man buried to turn the story into a national spectacle (the original studio enforced title was “The Big Carnival”), and only when it’s too late do they find the morals to loath what they’ve done, suggesting that when it comes to sensation, newshounds will stop at nothing to get their very own scoop.
Zodiac (’07): David Fincher’s laborious film about the San Francisco Zodiac murders of the 60’s and 70’s is more of a procedural - taking the facts of the long dormant, unsolved case and making personal suggestions based on what is known - than it is a film about the psychotic act of serial killing. A strong cast, led by Jake Gyllenhaal, Mark Ruffalo, and Robert Downy Jr., and Fincher’s usual attention to framing and beautiful photography, are highlights of a film that may seem long winded (two and a half hours of murder talk), but is really an engrossing study of fact finding, obsession, and ultimately, frustration in the often unfair peculiarities of the justice system.
The Simpsons Movie (’07): It’s been a long time in the making, but Matt Groening and a host of the show’s current and former writers, directors, and producers haven’t disappointed in bringing the greatest television franchise of all time to the big screen. The long and short of the plot revolves around Homer Simpson and his pet pig (Harry Plopper, formerly Spider-Pig) dooming Springfield by polluting the town’s already polluted lake, causing the President and his evil sidekick (all time ‘Simpsons’ guest Albert Brooks) to enclose the town in a giant dome, for which Homer takes it upon himself to correct, only after Marge threatens to leave him for good. Let’s face it, the show is nowhere near as good as it used to be, and ideally a movie idea would have fit better around 1995, when the show was at it’s peak, but even coming as late as it has, this is a funny and often sweet film that amounts to a little more than just four strung together episodes; it’s “The Simpsons” on a grand scale, and as carefully crafted as this script was (by at least seven legendary show writers), it fits the legacy just fine.
If…. (’68): One of the great anti-establishment films of the ‘60’s, and a landmark of British cinema, Lindsay Anderson’s surrealistic crusade about the cruelty of private boarding schools is, in essence, a film of hope. Of course it’s not easy to establish, considering the final scene is an all out war between the rebellious outcasts and their catholic suppressors (where the headmaster is shot point blank between the eyes), but it’s there; in Malcolm McDowell’s priceless anti-authoritarian smirk, in the scene where the boy’s break free, steal a motorcycle, and spend the day wrestling with a pretty coffee shop waitress, and finally in the way, for financial reasons or not, the drabness of the black and white dormitory scenes will give way to bursts of color stock, and the outdoors. There have been other movies about the meanness of all boy’s boarding schools, but none have ever come close to equaling this classic film’s balance between glorious rebellion, surrealist fantasy, and escape into a potentially better future.
Equinox Flower (’58): Yasujiro Ozu’s first color film, a splendidly photographed and arranged drama about a man who has no trouble setting up his friends’ children for prospective marriage, but when his daughter arranges her own marriage behind his back, lines are drawn. The plot is familiar to Ozu, who often dealt with young women leaving their fathers for marriage, so the importance of this film is his switch to color photography, which would continue, gloriously, for the final two years of his life.
Double Indemnity (’44): Billy Wilder’s legendary Film Noir, co-written with Raymond Chandler from a story by James M. Caine, is pure pulp sensation, from Fred MacMurray’s bitter flashback oriented voice over narration, to Barbara Stanwyck’s icy hot Femme Fatale, who uses MacMurray’s love struck Walter Neff like a disposable razor. The crackling script, filled with sexual innuendo, barely passed the censor board, and seen today it’s still potent and risqué, with MacMurray and Stanwyck trading suggestions, and eventually, barbs at gunpoint, as only Billy Wilder protagonists can, with nothing but spite, irony, and a hint of romance to barely soften the edges.
Star Wars (’77): George Lucas’ all time blockbuster is still one of the most exciting and original adventure films ever made, despite it’s reliance on pop culture mythology, including everything from Saturday Matinee television serials to the samurai westerns of Akira Kurosawa. For my more in depth review of the film and the trilogy, visit http://www.dunkirkma.net/inreview/features/star_wars.html.
Tuesday’s Children (’55): Included on the bonus disk of Criterion’s edition of “if….”, this early Lindsay Anderson short subject documentary about a special school for deaf children won an Oscar in 1955. There isn’t much to contrast with “if….”, as this is pretty straight forward and generally sweet natured, where “if….” is surreal and black, but it’s a nice curio on yet another superb Criterion handling of a modern classic.
Sunset Boulevard (’55): While distancing himself from a pair of repo men, hack screenwriter Joe Gillis blows a tire and ditches into the vast, rundown mansion of faded silent screen queen Norma Desmond, where the glories of Old Hollywood are but a memory to behold in the thousands of photos of a young starlet. Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett’s screenplay oozes with contempt for a Hollywood that disregards it’s past heroes like so much wasted typing paper, and in the figure of Norma Desmond, former star Gloria Swanson carves out one of the most eerily familiar fictional performance of all time, and in a film where nearly every character has attributes to the actor within (Erich von Stroheim as a washed up director, William Holden on Hollywood’s bottom rung, Cecil B. DeMille as a demigod director, Nancy Olson as a showbiz neophyte), that’s a major accomplishment. The film may have lost the Oscars it deserved to “All About Eve”, an equally vitriolic backstage showbiz satire, but it’s position stands today, not only as Billy Wilder’s best film, but one of the ten best American movies ever made.
Witness for the Prosecution (’57): Perhaps the greatest courtroom film of all time, or if not, than certainly the one with the most plot twists, all seemingly explainable and unforeseen, thanks in part to the skilled mastery of original author Agatha Christie, performers Charles Laughton and Marlene Dietrich, and their genius director, Billy Wilder.
The Lost Weekend (’45): Billy Wilder won the Best Director and Best Picture awards he deserved a year before for “Double Indemnity” for this groundbreaking drama about alcoholism, but it would be unfair to say they were consolation prizes, for this film is as good, and as important, as anything the director did in his long career. Best Actor Ray Milland plays Don Birnam, a writer whose crippling writer’s block leads him to the bottle, and while his frustrated brother leaves him alone for the weekend, his dedicated girlfriend can’t seem to keep track as he shuffles from one boozy set piece to the next. Wilder brings his camera to the streets and watches passively as Milland stumbles past unsuspecting citizens, a nod to the Italian style of neo-realism, and though the trick is attention grabbing (especially in the frightening mental hospital scene), the film is never overly stylized, always staying right with Birnam, his addiction, and his darkest nightmares.
The Host (’07): There’s nothing like a good monster film, and this one from South Korea, about a giant lizard-like creature that haunts the sewers of Seoul after being mutated by rogue American generals, is one of a kind. Comparisons can be made to the original “Godzilla”, not just for it’s destruction but for it’s political message (which is decidedly anti-American), but looking past the politics, the film is really about the banding together of one dysfunctional family of siblings, battling the lizard with everything from Molotov Cocktails to cement parking signs. The film was a blockbuster in S. Korea, fully placing it’s talented director, Bong Joon-ho, at the forefront of the country’s already brimming pack of young directors.
A Very Long Engagement (’04): Jean-Pierre Jeunet and his team of crack visual artists recreate the fright and frenzy of trench warfare for this lush romantic mystery, which follows Audrey Tautou on an epic journey to find the fiancé she doesn’t believe died at the front by execution. This is a film that warrants multiple viewings, for not only is the plot intense and often confusing, but Jeunet’s visual strategy is equally as aggressive, overloading the casual watcher with enough information to cause fits of vertigo.
Paranoia Agent (’04): A long format anime from Satoshi Kon, told in 13 parts, each half hour examining a particular character, or set of characters, in a sprawling urban storyline about a mysterious bat-wielding figure that strikes down his victims when they are at their lowest hour. If you’re a fan of Kon’s than you’ll recognize bits and pieces from his four feature films (“Perfect Blue”, “Tokyo Godfather’s”, “Millennium Actress”, “Paprika”) sprinkled throughout the story, especially as the series progresses and the line between fantasy and reality becomes ever blurred, suggesting that if the assailant is just a phantom of our darkest nightmares, than only through positive reinforcement in reality can we keep him at bay.
Hour of the Wolf (’68): One of Ingmar Bergman’s strangest films, a psychological horror piece with Max von Sydow and Liv Ullmann as a married couple slowly losing their minds, thanks to phantoms that may or may not be real, on a remote island. Von Sydow is a struggling artist who perceives some of the island’s residents to be monsters trying to destroy him, a subject that Bergman, coming off of “Persona” and a slight nervous breakdown, obviously took to heart.
Superbad (’07): In the grand tradition of cult classics like “Animal House”, “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”, “American Pie”, and “Dazed and Confused”, this riotously funny end-of-the-school-year romp about two best friends trying to finally realize their dreams with the girls they admire, is both obscenely raunchy and emotionally sweet. Michael Cera (“Arrested Development”) and Jonah Hill play the graduating seniors who have spent their high school years with each other, rather than chasing girls and going to parties, and as the night plays out from one bizarre situation to another, in their quest to get booze for a party, their rock solid friendship starts to fray, as it will after the summer when the boys go their separate ways to college. The two are really the heart of the film, but the standout belongs to newcomer Christopher Mintz-Plasse as the nerdy Fogell, who gets a fake I.D. with the name McLovin (a name used for countless jokes, each one pretty much solid) and proceeds to spend most of the night with two drunken and wildly inappropriate patrol officers, played by SNL’s Bill Hader and co-writer Seth Rogan. Well written, well acted, and with a believable sweetness that levels the incredibly dirty dialogue, this may be the funniest film of the year, and summer’s best sleeper hit.
Gimme Shelter (’70): Filmed in 1969, when the Rolling Stones were arguably the best rock band in the world, this all time great documentary from the Maysles Brothers recounts the Stones’ American tour, starting in New York and ending tragically with the botched free concert at Altamont Speedway in San Francisco. As the band views a rough print, in a bookend format that brilliantly structures the narrative, Mick Jagger watches in horror as his idea for a “Woodstock West” degenerates into chaos and eventual murder, sounding the death knell for the ‘60’s, and ushering in the age of regret that was the Vietnam era in the ‘70’s.
Ivan’s Childhood (’62): Andrei Tarkovsky’s first feature film is arguably his most accessible, with stunning black and white visuals and a story that is both dense and symbolic, but still seemingly easy to follow, unlike his languorous future epics. Ivan is a war orphan, used by the army to run spy missions across enemy lines, but in this bleak world of war and death, Ivan escapes to his past – at the beach with his mother, playing hide and seek with his friends, riding on a cart with his sister – through a vivid imagination that renders him still a child, despite the innocence he’s lost because of the war. It’s hard to argue against any Tarkovsky film, even films like “Solaris” and “Nostalgia”, which present their baffling story arch’s in increasingly static long takes, are still mesmerizing to watch, but I think he was at his peak early, with the brilliantly composed tracking shots here (especially a dreamlike scene in a forest filled of dead white trees), and in his 1969 masterpiece, “Andrei Rublev”. Credit goes to the Criterion Collection for releasing this stunning film on DVD, one of the great film debuts, from one of the great film artists.
The Empire Strikes Back (’80): After the glorious defeat of the Empire’s Death Star by scrappy young Luke Skywalker at the end of “Star Wars”, things go from good to bad to worse for our heroes in this second chapter, the darkest, and for my money, the best of the series. Case in point, starting in subzero temperatures, Luke is almost eaten to death by a snow monster in the first five minutes, only to go on to suffer an incomplete training in a dingy swamp with wrinkled old master Yoda, and to finally face his nemesis Darth Vader in a one-on-one light saber duel, only to find out that the villain is his father, and he’s about to chop his hand off. That, and his friend Han Solo has just been frozen in carbon to be delivered via bounty hunter to Jabba the Hutt. Maybe these setbacks are why this film plays so much better than the conclusion, “The Return of the Jedi”, because the sense of doom that prevails only enhances the anticipation for an inevitable happy ending a film later, or maybe it’s just because everything about the piece, from the groundbreaking special effects and talented acting (especially Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher, whose characters seemingly spar and fall in love at the same time), to the evilness of Darth Vader and the wonderful puppetry of Yoda, further establishes the mythology to epic proportions. “Star Wars” always gets noted because it’s the first, and “Return of the Jedi” for its rousing final battles, but for me ‘Empire’ will always be the best of the trilogy, not for a lack of a conclusion, but for making the wait that much more enjoyable.
by Adam Suraf