Showing posts with label Howard Hawks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Howard Hawks. Show all posts

Sunday, September 26, 2021

Mini Reviews for September 20 - 26, 2021

I didn't mean to watch multiple movies starring Richard Gere, but I guess sometimes the stars align to be over-exposed to a sexy-but-mediocre actor.

Movies

The Mothman Prophecies (2002)
I saw a review that called this "the empty man of 2002," and that's not wrong: it's got the same cosmic unease arising from the way one man's procedural quest leads him to peel back a corner of the fabric of the universe and glimpse something otherworldly in the beyond. The Mothman Prophecies lacks the savoir faire that makes The Empty Man feel so big, but this is good enough that it doesn't feel like it deserves its semi-forgotten status. Grade: B

 

 

 

American Gigolo (1980)
Except for the impeccably evoked neon environments and Giorgio Moroder score (and wow, are they impeccable!), there's not really a ton going for this movie when we have several decades of Schrader tweaking (and usually improving on) its "God's lonely man" format. Also, this definitely says more about me than about the movie, but for a film so full of now bygone-era lifestyle porn, the most appealing to me is the three-story record store that Gere walks through. Grade: B-

 

 

Death Bed: The Bed That Eats (1977)
A bunch of online chuckleheads like to call this one of the worst movies of all time, and that's just madness. For one, the premise given in the title (which the movie plays very straight) is just too much intrinsic fun to ever make this movie even close to the "worst" anything, and for two, this movie is super stylish. It's riding that ambiguous line between cheapness as a virtue and cheapness as a liability, and definitely some of the decisions here are kind of laughable: the narrator imprisoned behind a painting, for one, or the preponderance of dubbed dialogue. But some of the other techniques in the movie, whether intentional artistic flourishes or cost-saving necessities with incidental effects, make this movie strikingly surreal and feel pretty fresh, even 40+ years after its release. People like to bring up that the director himself doesn't even have strong memories of making the film, such was the haphazard, quickie B-film atmosphere of its creation, but authorial intent is overrated, imo—who cares if the filmmakers made this interesting and cool on purpose? It's still interesting and cool. Grade: B+

Twentieth Century (1934)
A screwball comedy that reminds me a lot of the moment-by-moment speed and chaos of His Girl Friday but without the relentless momentum of that masterpiece, nor the ability to make me care even a little bit about what is going on with the characters. It's fun to see the toxic power dynamics see-saw back and forth between a controlling director and a prima donna actress, but in the end, I just kind of felt like I was impassively watching these characters behind glass. Grade: C+

 

 

Television

Tuca & Bertie, Season 2 (2021)
Bless Adult Swim for rescuing this show from cancellation (and a pox upon Netflix for cancelling it in the first place). Those who watched the first season (there are dozens of us! dozens!) will know what to expect: millennials living in a city, but it's an animal city brimming with playful and also just downright surreal world-building, which also extends to a wildly elastic animation style that often manifests emotions and symbols into physical objects the characters can interact with. This season is maybe just a tad less surreal and weird, and the stories get just a tad bigger: climate change and gentrification are now key concerns alongside the usual "thirtysomethings navigating life in the city." But at its core, it's still basically the same show, despite the switch in networks, and if you dug the first season (which I did), you'll dig this one. Grade: B+

Sunday, November 29, 2020

Mini Reviews for November 23 - 29, 2020

Happy Thanksgiving, etc.

Movies

Time (2020)
An incredibly moving documentary of prison abolitionist Sibil Fox Richardson's fight to get her husband released from prison. To the extent that it's trying to portray the fight itself (only occasionally), Time isn't really that effective, and the details of the case remain hazy throughout. But as a deeply subjective (I don't think there's a shot in the film that doesn't include Richardson) exploration of not just the passage of time but also the way that prison compresses enormous fractions of a person's life into lonely captivity, this movie is a powerhouse. The decision to color-match home-video footage to the modern-day original b&w footage is a masterstroke, and the way the movie uses this simple aesthetic choice to blend the past with the present is one of the best formal decisions I've seen in a documentary in years. Grade: A-

I Am Greta (2020)
I would have been interested in learning a bit more about her family and the dynamics through what is obviously an incredibly difficult time for them, and the glimpses we do get of her father hint at some really complex tensions among the parental roles of caregiver, protector, and advocate (though given the amount of vitriol Greta has received as a public figure, it's understandable that the family might not have wanted to invite a more intimate depiction of their lives). As such, it's a somewhat surface-level treatment of Greta Thunberg's activism leading up to her famous UN address. Luckily, the surface of her activism is still pretty inspiring, and I'm pretty impressed with the extent to which she is able to immediately recognize her inclusion on the global political stage as merely virtue-signaling theater. I kind of wish the movie had done a little more of a deep-dive into that idea, too. Grade: B-

First Love (初恋) (2020)
I was really tracking with this at first (the idea of two down-on-their-luck folks getting unintentionally swept up into organized crime drama is solid stuff), but I lost interest hard in the second half as this devolves into some pretty tired crime violence and some forced humor. I know the guy has like two billion movies and I've only seen three of them, so maybe this is premature of me to say, but I'm starting to wonder if Takashi Miike just isn't for me. Audition is great of course, but the other two I've seen (this and 13 Assassins) have been middling experiences for me. Grade: B-

 

 

Nomad: In the Footsteps of Bruce Chatwin (2020)
Catches Herzog in a rare sweet and sentimental mood. The film is basically an elegy of sorts for writer Bruce Chatwin (who died of AIDS in 1989), and Herzog himself is (despite his explicit denials) as much the film's protagonist as Chatwin, as the film basically involves Herzog's spiritual and thematic communion with his deceased friend as he travels to various significant locations from Chatwin's career. More so than a lot of Herzog's work, much of this movie only really works in conversation with Herzog's past films (a lot of it involves him recounting stories from productions of his films), which has the unintentional(?) effect of highlighting this movie's comparatively minor achievement in the context of a towering filmography, but also, there's an enormous, beating heart put on the film's sleeve that makes it feel kind of unique as a Herzog work in and of itself. If nothing else, it's really disarming to see Herzog actually get choked up on camera. Grade: B

Rio Bravo (1959)
Rio Bravo is a movie in which a bunch of good guys have to make sure a bad guy stays in jail, so it's a movie almost premised on hanging out and stasis. For that purpose, it's got an almost perfectly calibrated screenplay: a bunch of characters are set up at the beginning of the movie and allowed to ping against one another for the subsequent couple of hours as the drama from both internal and external forces escalates in the closed environment of the small Texas town, and the pleasures of seeing those characters in motion around each other is immeasurable (though rest assured, I'll try my best to measure it with my grade on this movie). It's also the rare Hollywood western that is entirely free from any Manifest Destiny baloney, which makes it a lot easier to enjoy these characters without the ironic distance I sometimes feel like I need to keep in old westerns. It's a pretty long movie, though—too long, actually, and I know exactly what I'd cut: that dumb romance between John Wayne and Angie Dickinson. It adds nothing but bloat to a movie that's otherwise impressively svelte, and it's got some of those trademarked iffy John Wayne gender dynamics, to boot. Single-handedly brings this movie down from a higher rating. Grade: A-

 

Music

Joni Mitchell - Wild Things Run Fast (1982)
This is basically Joni's emergence from her highly experimental, jazz-inflected period of the mid-to-late '70s, and she's definitely staking a claim here as an artist that can be trusted with, like, conventional pop song structure and melody again—perhaps no better communicated than by the fact that Mitchell includes an uptempo Elvis Presley cover on here. I far prefer her wild experiments in the '70s, but this isn't bad. It might be easy to forget when you're in the thickets of "Paprika Plains" or something, but Joni is pretty good at conventional pop song structure and melody, and this record is imminently listenable and even catchy, without completely leaving behind the jazz spirit. And yeah, that Elvis cover is pretty good. Grade: B

Thursday, August 14, 2014

100 Years...100 Movies 88-90: Bringing Up Baby, The Sixth Sense, Swing Time

Hello all! I'm working my way through AFI's 100 Years...100 Movies list, giving thoughts, analyses, and generally scattered musings on each one. For more details on the project, you can read the introductory post here.

Blah blah blah.

88. Bringing Up Baby (1938, Howard Hawks)
Let me tell you a story. When I was growing up, my family would periodically have movie nights. My dad would go to the local Blockbuster or, in the way olden days, the local Hollywood Video (remember those?) and come home with some classic movie that we'd all watch together, arm-in-arm on the living room couch. It was like a Norman Rockwell painting, only with a lot more Star Wars. And you know what? My dad was really good at picking movies we'd all enjoy. Except for this one time. That fateful evening, he came home with this old screwball comedy that he'd never seen, "but it's supposed to be really good," he told us. "It's a classic." Well, we all sat down in front of the TV, my brother popped the popcorn, Dad put the tape in the VCR, and we watched the movie. And we hated it. All of us, including Dad. It's literally the only time I can remember a unanimous thumbs-down from the family on a movie-night movie. The name of that movie? Bringing Up Baby. Full disclosure: I haven't watched the movie since then (which was, by the way, probably twelve or thirteen years ago), although I have an unusually vivid memory of the film (such was the intensity of my dislike, perhaps?), so I feel at least semi-confident to say that I probably still wouldn't enjoy it today, although my hatred would probably be tempered to a "meh." The big sticking point for me is that I just don't find Katherine Hepburn's character funny. Like, at all. And that's a pretty big deal breaker for the movie, considering she delivers most of the jokes (give or take a few irate straight-man-turned-funny lines from Cary Grant's character). I'm not sure if I can explain why exactly I don't find her funny other than to say that her anarchic comedy becomes positively grating to me as the movie wears on. Irritation is a weird, inexplicable feeling, though; for instance, I love Spongebob Squarepants, Bugs Bunny, Groucho Marx, and Tina Belcher, all of whom are similarly nonsensical agents of chaos in their respective worlds. Why don't I find them irritating, too? I can't tell you. But whatever strange alchemy of factors it is that pushes a performance to the right side of the line between hilarious and aggravating, Hepburn just doesn't have it here. And that goes for the rest of the movie, too, unfortunately. Sorry, folks.


89. The Sixth Sense (1999, M. Night Shyamalan)
Honestly, I'm not sure of the reasoning that led to AFI's putting The Sixth Sense on this list. In the context of the rest of the list, the selection of this movie seems to go against the general character of films that made the cut, which, as I've discussed previously, usually tend toward Big Important Themes, epic scale, huge cultural import, sweeping romance, and/or showy, majestic cinematography. The Sixth Sense has none of these [1]. But oh well. No sense in belaboring the point since it did end up making the list, and anyway, it's a movie I like very much. For starters, it's a horror movie [2] that relies on clever use of atmosphere and practical effects, something I can always get behind. It's a darned entertaining, efficient bit of filmmaking, too, and also an appealingly personal one. So much of the discussion surrounding this movie has to do with the film-ending twist (and it's a doozy of a twist, too!) that the fact that the movie is, at heart, a poignant character study of two profoundly broken individuals often gets lost in the shuffle. Bruce Willis and Haley Joel Osment both give fantastic, haunting (heh) performances that flesh out the already psychologically sophisticated characters the screenplay provides, and the chemistry between the two (both on an acting and a writing level) is just as important to the movie's success as Shyamalan's excellent composition and command of tone. One of the great things about The Sixth Sense, in fact, is that it's still great without the twist. Future films of Shyamalan's would fail in part because the whole movie was in service of some endgame antics. With The Sixth Sense, you have the opposite, with the end in service of the rest of the movie. It's a character-based movie masquerading as a high-concept one, and a warmly redemptive one at that. For all of horror's nihilism, that redemption is a welcome anomaly.


90. *Swing Time (1936, George Stevens)
I'm not sure there's such a thing as a hangout musical in the same way that there are hangout sitcoms (e.g. Friends), hangout comedies (large chunks of any Apatow film), and hangout dramas (The Deer Hunter), but Swing Time is the closest I've seen any musical come to capturing the easygoing, elliptical vibe of that subgenre. There's almost no plot to speak of (well, characters fall in love, but in musicals, that's pretty much akin to breathing), and consequently, a large part of Swing Time's MO is just to let the characters sort of exist in front of the camera, bursting into song and dance numbers whenever they feel like it. It's surprisingly laid back for a musical, both in terms of adherence to the musical formula[4] (the first song doesn't appear until well past the 20-minute mark) and actual craft. And you know, that makes for a largely enjoyable viewing experience. The dialogue is light and fun, Fred Astaire is as dapper and charismatic as you could ever want a lead to be, and the songs are catchy, well-choreographed, and generally charming (particularly "The Way You Look Tonight,"[5] which is the charmingest of the charming and one of the best ever of cinema's musical creations, melodically). It's a movie that aims to delight by the sheer force of its fleet amiability, and it's largely successful in doing so. .... And then there's that blackface sequence. Okay, sorry, I just couldn't not mention it. Astaire doing a song-and-dance routine with his face smeared with dark shoe polish is one of those shocking old-movie moments that jolts you into realizing the uncomfortable truth that oh yeah, this movie is from the '30s, and things were like that in the '30s. Honestly, my first impulse (other than "WTF, Swing Time, seriously blackface???") is to give the movie a pass because of the film's otherwise amiable demeanor and that the sequence seems to be a mostly good-natured use of that sort of performance (i.e. not a whole lot of appeals to racial stereotypes other than the fact that, yeah, Astaire is painted black). But that first impulse is a bunch of crap. Given the ugly, destructive context of the whole minstrelsy medium, there's not really such a thing as a "good-natured" use of blackface performance[6], and no matter how nice the rest of the movie seems, the fact is that the blackface comes in the middle of a movie in which there is only one black character, a porter who has like two lines—that doesn't help the racial politics here one bit. And did I mention that the song Astaire dances to here is called "Bojangles of Harlem"? Yeesh. All of this is a shame, firstly because of the racism of course, but secondly because it blemishes what is probably the best-choreographed sequences in the entire film; Astaire dancing with his shadows in one of the most beguiling images from the movie, too, again made less palatable by the racism. Anyway, sorry for the rant. It's an unfortunate spot on an otherwise endearing trifle of a film.

My friends, we are now just a scant ten movies away from the end of this project. Just in time, too, since the school semester is just around the corner. Per usual, feel free to share your own thoughts on the movies here. Until next time!

If you feel so inclined, you can read the previous entry in the series, #s 85-87, here.
Update: You can read the next entry, #s 91-93, here.

1] As far as Big Themes go, for sure The Sixth Sense is a rumination on death and grief, but its treatment of those themes isn't the sort of capitalized portentousness that characterizes, say, Apocalypse Now.

3] Another bit of AFI counter-programming on The Sixth Sense's part. It's a horror movie, for Pete's sake—granted, an extremely classical, even Hitchcockian[3] horror movie, but a horror movie nonetheless. And if there's one thing that AFI doesn't put on its 100 Years...100 Movies list, it's a horror movie. How many times do you think I can use the word "horror" in this footnote? Horror horror horror horror horror. Ten. Ten times.

3] So, it looks like Alfred Hitchcock has directed the only other horror movie on the list (Psycho). There may be a link here...

4] Well, I guess I should say the musical formula that would be standardized by the '50s. Swing Time is probably the earliest musical I've ever seen, and, being mostly ignorant about the larger mechanics of the genre, I have to admit that it's possible that the conventions I'm familiar with didn't emerge until much later.

5] Am I an idiot for not knowing that this song came from this movie? I had always assumed it was some old pop standard or something.

6] Besides, good-natured racism is nonetheless still racism.