famsmith Reviews

Fargo (1996)

A Hero with a Heart

[9/10 · 22 July 2003]

Fargo comes with the works. A wonderfully original and quirky script by Joel and Ethan Cohen which at the same time is more accessible, sensible, and down to earth than any one of their other films. Fargo is not a cult classic it is a mainstream triumph. With precise and vivid photography by Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption, Kundun, Dinner With Friends, The Hurricane and numerous Cohen brothers' films). Great performances from Steve Buscemi, Frances McDormand and William H. Macy. And relatively unique editing that was actually written into the script, at times the Cohen brothers employ hard cuts to black which breaks up the rhythm and extraordinarily makes you think. However, it is really Frances McDormand's performance that gives this film its strength. In my opinion a strange thing has happened with Fargo. From time to time there is a film that is a great film, but catches on for the wrong reasons. Many people talked about Fargo as a comedy which it certainly was not despite a comic touch that exists throughout the Cohen brtohers' work. Others went around acting like fools saying ya, oh ya, you bet, and real good then, as if the unusual accents were what made the film distinctive. What makes this film brilliant is not the funny accents, the quirky characteristics, the offbeat manners. For me the greatness of this film is revealed in the last couple of scenes. (SPOILERS AHEAD!!!) When Marge finds Grimsrud and is put in harm's way by doing her job I can not think of a more gripping anxiety filled scene. Honestly when was the last time that there was a chase scene where you were really emotionally invested in what was taking place? Then in the car when Marge talks to the automatonic Grimsrud you are glad and relieved that for once with all do respect to Dirty Harry that it is a normal, kind hearted, well adjusted, affable human being who has captured this monster so that we may receive catharsis through her words of insight which are uniquely similar to what most of us would say. It is as if Marge is articulating what we have often thought or even said, but lacked a pulpit to preach from and a congregation to preach to. That scene near the end of the film when we are in the car with Marge and Grimsrud to me is more than a catharsis though, it is an indictment of the loss of American values, it is an indictment of our seemingly insatiable appetite for gratuitous blood and mindless violence, and our propensity for greed. When Marge says, 'and for what for a little money. There's more to life than a little money you know,' you feel as if something has been restored and lost at the same time. Marge would be seen by many as a sentimental character, but that is because the world has grown cynical. Is she oversimplifying in that scene? No she's right and we're the ones who are lost. That is if you believe films like dreams are keys to our unconscious and indicative of our true fears and desires.

The Graduate (1967)

American Cinema Par Excellence

[10/10 · 15 June 2003]

The Graduate is undoubtedly one of the greatest films ever made. It is a film that works on a myriad of levels; as a comedy; as social commentary; as a coming of age film; as a satire about American family life; and as a pure entertainment. The photography by Robert Surtees is visionary, it gives the film the precise look it needs to set the tone for the story and at times precedes the boldness of underexposure that cinematographers would delve into only a few years later. The script by Buck Henry is marvelous and serves as all great scripts as both a foundation and springboard for great possibility. In other words the nuances, the quirks, the subtleties that lend a film of the magnitude and resonance of The Graduate its distinctness always belong to the people that bring it to life, namely the actors and the director, but the screenwriter gives us the body. The casting is one of those sort of conundrums or quirks of fate that all great works seem to have. Initially, as the producer of this film talks about they were shooting for a more typical all-American cast particularly in the case of Benjamin Braddock the track star, but looking back at it now with 20/20 who can imagine anyone else playing the role of Benjamin the way Dustin Hoffman played it. This illustrates that sometimes a project takes on this whole life-force. I'm not saying that the film was destined to succeed, there is no doubt that the film is a testament to the hard fought genius of artists like Mike Nichols, Robert Surtees, Buck Henry, Dustin Hoffman and Anne Banecroft. With that said there are these things, these curiosities, these chips that seem to fall into place, a perfect alignment of the stars. But at the end of the day to me the most beautiful thing about the film is the story. You have these two products (in Elaine and Benjamin) of the so-called all-American family who had Mrs. Robinson not interrupted would have no doubt married each other, it had been set up from the beginning. Note that when Ben comes over to the Robinson house to pick Elaine up Mr. Robinson says, "It's about time you got around to this Braddock," and that Ben's parents are persistent in nagging their son to take Elaine Robinson out. Perhaps things are not so different in America after all. If Mrs. Robinson hadn't intervened then there would have been nothing unique about the story. But of course she does, she wants something for herself, to take something that her daughter might have had and to possess it for herself, in a sad way it is her last attempt at trying to reach out and connect with someone, and after it is over it is too late for her, she is dead. In the end despite the brief road block of Elaine being married off to Carl Smith, Benjamin's back-up since Benjamin was deemed by Elaine's parents to be inadequate, they have set things back on course, but not before shaking them up, and doing it their way. But then we have the ominous and somewhat ambiguous ending where both characters get on the bus and go through different emotions, but not at the same time, portending the all too often uneven ebb and flow of a husband and wife. In the end these two characters must accept that in spite of all their kicking, scratching, world-shaking and hell-raising there is only so far they can go, they can only be so different. They are still going to get married, they have taken a slight detour, only to realize in the end that perhaps there is only one road.

The Graduate (1967)

American Cinema Par Excellence

[10/10 · 15 June 2003]

The Graduate is undoubtedly one of the greatest films ever made. It is a film that works on a myriad of levels; as a comedy; as social commentary; as a coming of age film; as a satire about American family life; and as a pure entertainment. The photography by Robert Surtees is visionary, it gives the precise look the film needs to set the tone for the story and precedes the boldness of underexposure that cinematographers would delves into only a few years later. The script by Buck Henry is marvelous and a serves as all the script as both a foundation and springboard for great possibility. In other word the nuances, the quirks, the subtleties that lend a film of the magnitude and resonance of The Graduate its distinctness always belong to the people that bring it to life, namely the actors and the director, but the screenwriter gives us the body. The casting is one of those sort of conundrums or quirks of fate that all great works seem to have. Initially as the producer of this film talks about they were shooting for a more typical all-american cast particularly in the case of Benjamin Braddock the track star, but looking back at it now with 20/20 who can imagine anyone else playing the role of Benjamin the way Dustin Hoffman played it. This illustrates that sometimes a project takes on this whole life-force. I'm not saying that the film was destined to succeed, there is no doubt that the film is a testament to the hard fought genius of artist like Mike Nichols, Robert Surtees, Buck Henry, Dustin Hoffman and Anne Banecroft. With that said there are these things, these curiosities, these chips that seem to fall into place, a perfect alignment of the stars. But at the end of the day to me the most beautiful thing about the film is the story. You have these two products (in Elaine and Benjamin) of the so-called all-American family who had Mrs. Robinson not interrupted would have no doubt married each other, it had been set up from the beginning. Note that when Ben comes over to the Robinson house to pick Elaine up Mr. Robinson says, "It's about time you got around to this Braddock," and that Ben's parents are persistent in nagging there son to take Elaine Robinson out. Perhpas things are not so different in America after all. If Mrs. Robinson had intervened then there would have been nothing unique about the story. But of course she does, she wants something for her self, to take something that her daughter might have had and to possess it for herself, in a sad way it is her last attempt at trying to reach out and connect with someone, and after it is over it is too late for her, she is dead. In the end despite the brief road block of Elaine being married off to Carl Smith Benjamin's back up since he was deemed by Elaine's parents to be inadequate they have set things back on course, but not before shaking them up, and doing it their way. But then we have the ominous and somewhat ambiguous ending where both characters get on th bus and go through different emotions, but not at the same time. In the end these two characters must accept that in spite of all their kicking, scratching, world-shaking and hell-raising there is only so far they can go, they can only be so different. They are still going to get married, they have taken a slight detour, only to realize in the end that perhaps their is only one road.

Love Liza (2002)

Hoffman, Hoffman, Hoffman!

[6/10 · 11 June 2003]

The amazing thing about this movie is Phillip Seymour Hoffman's performance. I don't know how I continue to be pleasantly surprised by Mr. Hoffman's work, but he is one of the few prodigious actors who gives you something different every time. What makes Hoffman so great is that he takes a mediocre, run of the mill independent film, that is so run of the mill it is almost a stereotype, but you can't turn off the movie and half way into it I ackinowledged that it was the genius of Hoffman that kept me watching. This film was promoted with the promise that it might do for Hoffman's career what Leaving Las Vegas did for Nicholas Cage. Ironically, it hasn't and it won't. I say ironically because Hoffman is a far better actor than Nick Cage, but Cage is marketable, and he is also related to a living legend in Francis Ford. I liken Hoffman's performance to that of De Niro in Taxi Driver, not because it's as big of a performance, but the roles are night and day, I make the comparison because it is the intensity and charisma that breathes life into an otherwise worthless and lackluster character. Kathy Bates turns in an average performance in an average role. Ms. Bates is too good for the part, but so is Hoffman, and as great as Bates is Hoffman shines that much brighter. The only other thing worth noting is that Lisa Rinzler is the cinematographer for the film. Rinzler was featured on the brilliant documentary Visions of Light, but there is nothing extraordinary about the photography. Then again, neither was there anything extraordinary about the film other than Hoffman's performance. Watch this film if you want to see what a great actor can do with a mediocre role or if you just love Phillip Seymour Hoffman, but if that was the case you would have watched it already.

Scarface (1932)

Whoever Said Crime Doesn't Pay?

[10/10 · 20 May 2003]

This is a magnificent film. No, this is a ground breaking, earth shattering, trail blazing masterpiece. This film is nothing less than an epoch. Some will try to pretend that the gangster film genre truly existed before Howard Hawks' 1932 gem, but it didn't. This is the first film that can and should be taken seriously as a gangster film. Hawks did for the gangster genre with this film what Hitchcock did for suspense.

Scarface has maturity, depth, scope, it is multifaceted. The script by Ben Hecht is wonderful. There are a number of magnificent lines throughout the film such as Tony Camonte saying you do it first, yourself and keep doing it. The character is revealed immediately and he is paradoxically both attractive and grotesque.

The film is a broad canvas that frames all of America's ills. The romanticism of violence, the lust for success on any level, and an absolute appetite for blood.

Extraordinarily disturbing is the films finale. Camonte doesn't parish so much because of the depth of his immorality, but because he shows weakness, his tough exterior has failed him, just like the bulletproof shutters he has put on his windows.

It's very bizarre to me to to think that this film would ever be in need of rescuing, but unfortunately film like history when it comes to the general population has a very short memory. Today audiences are more likely to be familiar with and in reverence of De Palma's 1983 version. A virtual rip off that changes a few elements, and sure it is not the same movie, but so much material is lifted and no credit is given. This is an outrage. More than half the script for the 83 version comes from this film. No matter what anyone says that is outright theft, but it is overlooked because we are talking about film and not literature. Sure Mr. De Palma pays homage to Howard Hawks, but wouldn't you if you had basically plagiarized his film with a few alterations to modernize the story.

Ironically, as in Hawks visionary story integrity, truth, validity, morality have all been obscured and we live in a society where it is not only okay to steal and butcher, but it pays. Whoever said crime doesn't pay?

Interiors (1978)

Not a melodramatic review

[6/10 · 13 May 2003]

Interiors is not a film that is going to save cinema, nor is it the essence of cinema. In fact it's not particularly cinematic. What it is, is an honest stab at a story that explores the intricacy and honesty of relationships, in a family that is falling apart largely because they were never really that together to begin with. I think the title of the film is apt, and Joey's monologue there in the dark speaking to her mother is the strongest scene in the film. Allen's work suffers somewhat from being too cerebral. Even characters who are cerebral don't come right out and say what they're thinking, but I'm a big believer in subtext. I admire this film in the sense that it is digging for something deeper, that it is more about the characters, and is not a plot centered film, but the actors lend strength and depth to an otherwise obvious script. There's not enough there in the writing and so there is a limit to how far the actors can take it. The photography is masterful from an aesthetic standpoint and I suppose it suits the subject matter, but here I have to get personal. I truly feel that Gordon Willis overdoes it with his cinematography. Everything is underexposed and there are times when I feel certain scenes would be strengthened by more straightforward photography. I feel that Willis' personal stamp that is obviously reminiscent of old masters like Rembrant is self-imposing. It's too much, and it's not right for every scene. No one questions whether Willis is technically sound or aesthetically masterful, sure he's an artist, but since we hold him in such high esteem let's be honest and say that his lighting is not always about the subject matter, it does not always seek to tell the story in the best manner possible or if it does it fails. Gordon Willis is great, but I feel this film would have benefited from employing a much more practical and humble dp. Overall the film is good, but not great. It's time to stop embellishing. Just because a film has integrity and sets out to accomplish something doesn't make it a great film. Just as lighting a scene beautifully and distinctly doesn't necessarily make it great cinematography. I'm for a film looking outright hideous if it's the best way to tell a story. As James Wong Howe once said, "We can try to get our own ideas in there, but we shouldn't try to get our personalities in the film." Howe's point being that everything and everyone is subservient to telling the story. Alone this film is a competent piece, but there is nothing so extraordinary about it as a whole. In the context of great films this film should not even receive as much as a whisper. Worth watching, but not nearly a masterpiece.

Memento (2000)

The Convenience of Memory Loss.

[9/10 · 17 September 2001]

Typically I choose not to comment on the story and instead focus on the craft of a film. However, in Memeneto the essence, the distinctiveness, the brilliance, the virtue is in the story itself. This is the first film in quite some time that I can honestly say I enjoyed purely for the sake of the story- the film itself. The film has a real starkness to it making the noir comparison obvious, inevitable and quickly a cliche. The device used in this film is not as straightforward as most people have initially described and it is certainly not a gimmick. When I think of gimmicks I think of filmic devices, techniques, or methods that are employed only to befuddle the audience and to show off the filmmaker's ability. Therefore this film's device is not gimmicky, the story would be just as interesting without the device. Of course as some people have already observed this film is not only an implausible one, but an imperfect one, but surely we have made bigger concessions for films in the past. At the heart of the story is the main character Lenny and his inability to as he puts it to make any new memories. This problem though often comical proves to be simultaneously Lenny's tragedy (making Lenny a very ironic character). Along with the chaos of a daily life in which he can not remember anything longer than several minutes Lenny is determined to exact his revenge by bringing his wife's killer/rapist because as he puts his inability to remember the act is irrelevant because his wife deserves justice. Caught up in Lenny's world or perhaps Lenny in theirs are several different characters. The motel worker that feels sympathy for Lenny, but not enough to keep him from charging him for an extra room because as he puts it business is slow and Lenny won't remember anyway. The bartender (Natalie) who is caught up in a drug racket and is as quick to use Lenny and mock him as she is to help him. Their is a particularly frustrating scene which illustrates this, in which Lenny is trying to find a pen so he can remember what she has said. And of course Teddy who more than anyone pops in and out of Lenny's life. Unfortunately Teddy is as close to a friend as Lenny gets to have in this story. A truly interesting aspect of the story is the even more fragmented phone conversations Lenny has in which he reveals Sammy Jankus, a character who Lenny investigated who suffered from almost exactly the same condition Lenny does the only difference is he could not condition his instincts (according to himself Lenny can). As the story of Sammy unfolds we see a subplot that is as intriguing as anyone I can remember in recent film and as integral to understanding Lenny as Freud thinks our dreams are to understanding ourselves. Unlocking the mystery of Sammy and why it is so important for Lenny to remember him sheds light on the whole situation. In what is without a doubt the most important scene in understanding Sammy in the film and subsequently understanding Lenny we see that Sammy of course without being aware of it kills his wife as she reminds him at least three times over that she needs her insulin shot and as a result of the failed test she goes into a coma and dies. So in understanding this scene we fully realize Sammy's problem. Sammy who ends up in a mental institution and doesn't even realize that his wife is dead, loved his wife very much, but is incapable of saving her because of his mental infirmity. Lenny's problem is the same, but reversed. Lenny loved his wife very much, but was incapable of saving her and as a result he develops almost the exact same infirmity as Sammy. Whether Lenny's brain damage is a result of physical trauma (the blow to the head) or the psychological trauma of not being able to deal with the tragedy is arbitrary the condition remains the same. Still at this point we have yet to fully realize the significance of the connection between Sammy and Lenny. The connection is fully illuminated for us at the end if we are only paying close enough attention. When Lenny goes to meet John G. or rather Jimmy Grantz (who Teddy has set up for a fall) Lenny asks, "You Jimmy Grantz?" Jimmy dryly replies, "You expectin any other Jimmies out here memory man? (An obvious reference to Lenny's condition, but the only one in their conversation.) After Lenny has done away with Jimmy he begins to feel guilty and thinks that perhaps he has killed the wrong man. And here is the kicker he makes a statement that essentially says that he (Jimmy) knew about Sammy, how did he know about Sammy? He even brings it up to Teddy when he arrives on the scene, but the fact is Jimmy never said anything to Lenny about Sammy or Sammy's condition, the only reference he made was to Lenny's condition. Sammy regardless of whether he is real or not is Lenny's alter ego, a personality that he has constructed and conditioned himself to remember so that he can deal with the situation. The dream about Sammy's inability to save his wife when she puts him to the test is really a dream about Lenny's own guilt. As Teddy points out later it is quite irrelevant whether Lenny's wife was a diabetic or not although she may have been. The important points are (Most of which Teddy makes to Lenny) he doesn't know who he is only who he was, that Sammy in his condition will never be able to reconcile the guilt he feels over his wife's death, and that Lenny's memory while failing him in the short term has permanently failed him, in the long term it has shielded him- for what is there for Lenny to do once he has exacted revenge and brought this animal who killed his wife to justice? Tragically and perversely what Lenny has conditioned himself to is revenge. Revenge is what gives his life meaning, hope, purpose. The revenge is never as sweet as he imagines and Lenny goes on conditioning and even manipulating his own mind so that he may remember those things he wishes to and forget those which he does not want to remember. Never is this more obvious or conscious than at the end when Lenny's latent desire fully manifests itself. In this final scene not only has he become aware of what he has been doing, not only has he accepted it, but he in fact rather enjoys it. Why else would he choose to completely ignore it? A man that truly wants to solve his wife's murder- to bring her killer to justice doesn't choose to completely rule out the possibility that he may have already done so, and at least makes a note of it so he can seriously investigate. Lenny if he really wanted to bring the killer to justice and resolve the situation would have raised those questions in a way that made sense and sought to answer them. Lenny wants to be the searcher, the mourner, the vengeful husband he likes playing that role and telling those stories, it is only this that could fulfill him. Teddy says towards the end (at which point in filmic time he is still alive although in our memories if they have served us correctly tell us he is a dead man.) says, "Lenny you're not a killer that's why you're so good at it." Don't be fooled. Remember he wanted to forget. Does Lenny truly feel guilty later? Sure, but rather conveniently he can't remember why.

The Shining (1980)

A film of nonpareil substance. Simply put the greatest horror film ever made.

[10/10 · 6 April 2001]

This is the greatest horror film ever made. There's not a doubt in my mind. I have seen many films in this genre, but none, none come near the brilliance of this one. I have heard several criticisms over the years and I always find this interesting, because typically the hangups people have about this film are personal hangups, and are shortcomings that stem from the viewer's projection of those hangups on to the film. That unfortunately is one of the few obstacles that stands in the way of film possessing total universality. Of course the obvious hangup is people that read the Stephen King novel first and didn't appreciate the fact that the film was a departure from the source. Well I hate to differ with you, but the film is ten times better than any book Stephen King could ever write. The simple and undeniable fact is that Stanley Kubrick is one of the best directors ever if not the best and the same can certainly not be said for King as a writer. The changes that Kubrick made to the film gave it a depth in its medium that King's novel seldom exhibited. Some other examples of hangups would be people who won't watch or disapprove of films like Raging Bull, because they have a strong aversion to violence, or people who think films like The Searchers and Vertigo are overrated because they don't take those genres seriously. So in order to see this film for what it really is and not be blinded by your prejudices, simply sit down, leave your hangups at the door, and watch your superficiality and pretentiousness melt away in the resplendent light of this radiant film. The photography by Kubrick's terrific visual collaborator John Alcott is unbelievable. Kubrick in his youth broke in as a photographer, and the incredible photography of his films are testimonies to that background. The performance by Jack Nicholson is amazing, maybe the best of his career, certainly the most animated and entertaining. I know that some will say that it is over the top, but it fits the film perfectly. The biggest difference between the film and the novel is that in the novel it is purely the hotel that is evil, and in the film Jack is someone looking for an escape, not just to work on his novel, but to escape the failure that his life has become, to be something he could never be in reality, to renounce his responsibility, to renounce his shortcomings and awaken into the person he wants to be. The hotel provides him with that opportunity, and in the nightmare scene which is a spectacular metaphor Jack's subconscious after a lifetime of social and moral repression is finally awakening. This accents the relationship between modern man (his relationship/kinship to the hotel which is obviously intended as a metaphor for escape or retreat) and his carnal need to become something greater than what he is perfectly. The bottomline is the performances are great, the script is great, the direction is flawless, and the photography as always is unique and interesting. The splits and doublings have never been as fully accomplished or realized in any other film ever made, and I should mention that though I labeled this a horror film at the beginning of my critique it is so much more. This film transcends not only the genre, but cinema in general. Also, not to be ignored is the wonderful symmetry of music and imagery to create intense fear in the audience. Last but not least the ending is so much more expressive and unique than the typical horror ending that the book had to offer, in seeing it you come to understand that as is so often the case in life there is more than one side to the coin of every entity. This is an immaculate film made by an immaculate filmmaker and any shortcomings that are perceived exist in the minds of the viewer and not on screen. The viewers that will be blase, critical, or indifferent in regards to this film are intellectually indolent peasants (lacking vision and imagination) who don't deserve to delight in a film of such nonpareil substance. The Shining's ambiguity does not limit it, but immortalizes it.

The Conformist (1970)

The futility of trying to sum up a film of such beauty.

[9/10 · 5 April 2001]

Watching this film reminds me of the futility and arrogance that exists in attempting to sum up in words a film that possesses such breadth and splendor. A film that took countless talented professionals, and more hours than the average viewer is capable of imagining to create. Never has the thought of the aforementioned futility seemed as relevant as it does with The Conformist. With that in mind I will attempt to toil in such futility for if we viewed everything from that point productivity would be an impossibility. The Conformist is an ambiguous film without being fatuous or impalpable. Bertolucci and his collaborators are daring, because they either respect the audience enough to present them with one of the most admirable characteristics a film can possess - a challenge, or they just don't care. Whatever the case may be it is extremely evident that they are going to make the film the way they know it should be made. The film succeeds because it is fearless. The makers of this film were not afraid to take risks they welcomed them. The photography by Storaro is breathtaking analogous only to works of other geniuses at the top of their game. The precision of the compositions in certain scenes is extraordinary and the lighting is some of the best that any film throughout history has to offer. The score by Delerue is also remarkable. The storyline is intriguing, but I find that aspect is typically best if left to the viewer since it is predominantly experiential. While this is not intended as a criticism this film is extremely dark, perhaps the darkest I've ever seen. I remember being shocked the first time I heard someone claim that Vertigo was a terribly dark film, and even in recent viewings it has not struck me as such, but the Conformist certainly is. Nearly all of the characters seem to be lost causes and with the exception of a couple none of them really stand for anything. If you have not seen The Conformist you must go out and rent it immediately, I promise you won't be disappointed. The only drawback of this film is that it is so superior to most that upon viewing the film it makes it that much harder to give other films a fair chance. Of course those other films are created in a system where the artistic aspects of film are threatened by Hollywood's insatiable appetite for commercial success, and never once do they realize that few great films go unnoticed. In that regard even though it is just as slick technically as any Hollywood film ever made it is actually the antithesis of a Hollywood film. Essentially The Conformist is such a prime cut that it makes an average film look like a flimsy processed patty from Burger King.

Gladiator (2000)

No I am not entertained.

[4/10 · 2 April 2001]

No I am not entertained. I went to this movie expecting little and receiving less. I could single out certain individuals to point the finger at for this artistic failure of a film, but can't seem to see the point in it, this film was bad in so many areas that it really is a collaborative debacle. Even the general audience failed, because in accepting this film the standards for what will be honored as a great film have been lowered dramatically. The dialogue was stupid, the characters were completely overdrawn, the performances were typical, the plot was as formulaic as it gets, not one moment in this film left me anticipating the next, not one character was original or intriguing, and the cinematography was unimaginative and monotonous. On top of this they kill off Richard Harris the best actor in the film at the beginning of this movie which crawls on its belly to the end. To its credit the film does a decent job of creating the coliseum which unfortunately is not as impressive given the fact that Spartacus the original gladiator film was done four decades before this release and was just as successful if not more in this aspect. This film never comes close to achieving the success of similar films made long ago. At best Gladiator is a watered down flat derivative of Spartacus. The film is as dead as the time period it was supposed to depict, and perhaps just as dead is the general public's knowledge of a good film. As a side note when one asks why it is important to have an appreciation and understanding of history in regards to art or a lexicon in the language of film I can think of no better reason than 'without a perspective of a variety of great works one will never fully be able to appreciate or understand what a great work truly is.' In short this film lacked everything that constitutes a great film. What is that? Great filmmaking.

12 Monkeys (1995)

A film that transcends the genre.

[8/10 · 23 February 2001]

To call Terry Gilliam's 12 Monkeys a science fiction/fantasy film would be to call Stanley Kubrick's The Shining a horror film. I have seen 12 Monkeys many times now and what strikes me about it more than anything else is how Gilliam uses cinematic means to reveal a character desperately trying to remember something as he is hurled back and forth in time, creating a very disoriented concept/construct of reality and making it even more difficult to recall his childhood memory which is the crux of the problem he desperately seeks to solve. We are thrown straight into his hysteria and if we are to doubt his perception of reality we must doubt our own as they are one in the same, we are given no other option than to accept the character's reality. I find it absolutely amazing that as wild and fantastic as this movie is I have a hard time viewing it as implausible and that is because it is told in such a magnificent fashion that it makes every moment, especially the end seem not only plausible but inevitable. Not a frame is wasted. This film goes straight for your throat, it doesn't spend any time messing around. It is one of the few films that has yet to exhaust me. Gilliam does a great job (As he has in several other films.) of placing an object in the midst of an ocean of empty space. Like many great noir filmmakers he understands how to use emptiness not merely as negative space, but as the most important space, the only difference being instead of creating the effect through lighting Gilliam manages his success through composition and the contents or lack thereof that he places within the context. Though mention has been made of it this is one of the only times I have ever seen a director take full advantage of the empty space, and not by filling it but by allowing it to remain unoccupied by objects or subjects. The relationships are intriguing to say the least and with this film Gilliam has taken yet another step towards distinguishing himself as a truly important and unique filmmaker. This film is much more than a science fiction/fantasy film and is a perfect example of why some films should not be identified by genres at all.

When Harry Met Sally... (1989)

A passionate film made by passionate filmmakers for passionate film watchers.

[9/10 · 17 February 2001]

This is a passionate film made by passionate filmmakers for passionate film watchers. There is no way to adequately express my feelings about this film, but still I can't help but try. This film is one of the few in recent viewing that I can watch over and over again, it never tires me. Both Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan do a magnificent job of creating believable, accessible, and extremely memorable characters. Throughout the course of roughly an hour and a half we are granted admission to the evolution of both Harry and Sally and their relationship. Rob Reiner does an excellent job with an equally excellent script by Nora Ephron, and though he has proven his diversity through the myriad of memorable films he has made two constant and undeniable qualities flow through his body of work; truth and humanity. Love between two people is one of the hardest things to portray on screen, but Reiner and his crew do a seamless job of making it not only believable, but interesting and heart warming with out being overly sentimental. Some of the greatest moments are also among the quietest and most subtle, allowing the viewer's appreciation to increase with each viewing. Almost every frame of this film is a thing of beauty and reiterates something that has recently begun to permeate my thoughts and feelings about great films and that is this: while there may be an array of different qualities under the spectrum of great films one common bond that must always exist is passion. You get the sense that this is a film which everyone working on it not only understood and believed in, but felt the film was so important that they were determined to make it the best they possibly could, and they certainly did. The most vital quality a film must possess to be great is relevance to the human experience, in a word universality. When Harry Met Sally possesses this and so much more and it will continue to be universal, accessible, and relevant far beyond its time.

Malcolm X (1992)

A hallmark to humanity.

[10/10 · 24 January 2001]

With this epic biographical tale of Malcolm Little who becomes the great political, religious, and cultural leader known as Malcolm X Spike Lee ascends from the platform of good directors to the pantheon of the great. This film is an excellent example of what a director like Spike Lee is capable of when he is willing to set aside his agenda and simply tell a story about people, places, and moments that are very meaningful to him. Malcolm X is at once one of the best among biographical and spiritual films (And spiritual without shoving religion down the viewer's throat.) and is perhaps the most enlightening film I've ever seen. This film has everything. Great photography by Ernest Dickerson who has worked with Lee on many previous productions, but seems to be even better here, a terrific screenplay, astounding performances by Denzel Washington and Angela Basset, and all of it comes together brilliantly to encompass an individual's life in a way that perhaps other productions have never as fully succeeded. Throughout the course of the film though you may not always agree with Malcolm's philosophies, actions, and words you can at least appreciate the metamorphosis he goes through. I don't know if I've ever seen or heard of an individual growing as much as Malcolm X does in this film, constantly transcending yesterday's mold and always aspiring to something greater. This is truly a great film. Lots of films have style, some have content, few have depth, but this one is an amazing amalgamation of all three and is a great tribute not only to Malcolm X, the makers of the film, but to the indomitable spirit of humanity.

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)

Hitchcock tops himself as only he can!

[19 January 2001]

This breathtaking film is unfortunately overshadowed and neglected due to some of the master's other great works, but in certain aspects is actually one of his most powerful films. I haven't seen the film in several weeks it seems, but I can still hear Doris Day's angelic voice echoing throughout the walls of my memory as she unleashes the epic sounds of her immaculate rendition of que sera sera. The timing of the cymbals is extremely well choreographed and Hitchcock assisted by the very capable hands of Bernard Herrmann uses music in a way that it's effectiveness and beauty is actually comparable to his visual mastery. Hitchcock also manages to once again implant a device in which one of the main characters (Jimmy Stewart) utilizes his expertise in his occupation in a practical manner. The scene in the church is truly unnerving creating emotions of intense frustration and extreme anxiety in the way only the master of suspense can and it also embodies the mood and atmosphere that the film has to offer, (In a way it is one of the classic Hitchcock moments that if you are watching carefully enough you'll never forget.) The thing that strikes me upon watching this film is something that runs through the veins of the auteur's body of work, and that is his ability to create intense emotional responses through the means of pure cinema. Unfortunately, I will most likely only be heard by those that already identify with my feelings towards Hitchcock and his work, but this film as much or more than any other transcends the suspense genre, and it along with many of his other films is so much more than a suspense film, and if that's all the viewer can see it as then perhaps it has something to do with the shallowness and superficiality of the viewer and not the filmmaker for Hitchcock if any filmmaker ever was is very deep. His films are effective and powerful on so many levels and this one is no exception. Hitchcock is cinema and this unheralded film is a testimony to not only the power and beauty of Hitchcock, but cinema itself.

Rosemary's Baby (1968)

Roman Polanski directs one of the greatest, if not the greatest suspense/thrillers of all time!

[10/10 · 9 December 2000]

Sometimes a film comes along that redeems the art form that is cinema. Rosemary's Baby is one of those films. In Rosemary's Baby the cinematic content is the priority, the auteur understands what is important is not the story as it is seen on paper, but the story as it is told visually. Polanski proves in this film that when he is on top there is none greater. Polanski takes a remote locale to create in a sense a claustrophobic atmosphere, and understands both cinematography and the audience so well that he uses a barrage of imagery to play the audience like a violin creating a response of pure terror. However, the amazing thing about this film is that it does even the little things so well. For example, this film contains the best dream sequences I've ever seen. True, Hitchcock created some of the most fascinating and artisitc dream sequences visually, but none of them came nearly as close to creating what the dream state is truly like. Many directors lack a sense of daring, they are so worried about appeasing the audience that they cease to challenge them. Polanski challenges the audience ten times a frame, he creates outrage by allowing chaos to reign, and displays complete disregard for structure/order as the primary priority. Polanski has always struck me as a balance between a director of the French New Wave style and a student of Hitchcock which supplies him with an amazing combination of freedom and precision. The performances in this film are outstanding all around. Polanski to me is one of the few directors who is completely fearless when it comes to taking risks. I don't believe I've ever seen another director who possesses and expresses such dual qualities so effortlessly. Polanski feels no obligation to tradition, but simultaneously has an enormous amount of respect for the masters who came before him. There is also a great balance between the fantastic and the realistic in this film, drawing a very thin line between both, and forcing the audience to question the fantastic realities and the realistic fantasies. They say that the great artists know the rules, but can get away with breaking them because they realize that it is something far beyond rules that makes their medium what it is, and I can think of few filmmaker's who exemplify this to same extent as Polanski.

The Doors (1991)

A refreshing cinematic breakthrough in an era in which cinema seems all but forgotten!

[9/10 · 3 December 2000]

This film is truly a gem. The Doors is easily the best film of the rock n' roll genre and at least one of the most important films of its era. Though I am not an Oliver Stone fan I must give credit where it is due. Stone really does a terrific job with this film, and shows what he is capable of when he actually knows about the subject he is attempting to comment on. A few of the scenes in the film are almost exact recreations of actual events. However, the magnificent thing about this film is that it manages to recreate a certain amount of reality while simultaneously realizing that for a film to possess its own vitality it must transcend the preexisting reality, move beyond the surface, beyond everything that is obvious, and express and explore something deeper. Val Kilmer delivers a powerful performance in which he almost seems to be channeling the energy of Jim Morrison, and though I've seen many of Meg Ryan's films this is the only one I can recollect where she does such a good job that she makes you really forget about her and focus on the character. The cinematography of the film by Robert Richardson (Platoon, Wall Street, Born on The Fourth of July, Natural Born Killers, Casino, Bringing out the Dead, and many more) is bold and unique making the film one of the most distinct visual films I've ever seen. This film is truly one of a kind, and breaks through into new cinematic territory, giving priority to the visual aspects of the film in an era where there are so few films that even give much consideration to the single most important aspect of the motion picture. The genius of this film is that it is visual-audio as opposed to audio-visual and is more concerned with expressing something than simply impressing the audience. The Doors is a refreshing cinematic breakthrough in an era in which cinema seems all but forgotten.

The Doors (1991)

A cinematic advance in an era where true cinema seems all but forgotten!

[9/10 · 1 December 2000]

This film is a gem! Without a doubt the best film of the music genre of cinema. Val Kilmer delivers an astounding performance in which he almost seems to be channeling the energy of Jim Morrison. Although I am not a fan of Oliver Stone I must give credit where it is due he did a terrific job with this film. This film is what Stone is capable of when he actually knows what he is attempting to comment on. Stone does an amazing job several times throughout the film of recreating events as they actually occurred, but simultaneously realizes that ultimately for a film to possess its own vitality, a vitality beyond that of a mere representation or reflection of reality it must transcend reality and attempt to express something much deeper than what is on the surface. Stone also does an excellent job in getting stellar performances out of the rest of the cast. This is one of the few films of Meg Ryan's I've ever seen where she does a good enough job to make you really forget about her and focus on the character. The cinematography by Robert Richardson (director of photography of Platoon, Wall Street, Natural Born Killers, Born on the Fourth of July, Casino, Bringing Out the Dead, and many more) is bold and extraordinary, making it one of the most unique and distinct visual films I have ever seen. The great thing about this film is it is so much more than a behind the scenes account of a rock n' roll band. It is also very interesting in that most of the score consists of songs of the band that the story is about, and I have never seen another film that has accomplished this to the same extent. In a time when there are so few films that give first priority to the cinematic content of the film this is a refreshing masterpiece that discovers new territory. Whether or not you enjoy the film it is one of the few cinematic films of its decade, and it is also safe to say that there is no other film exactly like this one.

Casino (1995)

An underrated and undervalued Scorsese Classic

[10/10 · 28 October 2000]

If you haven't seen Casino yet, stop whatever it is you're doing, rush to the nearest video store, rent it, and watch it. Along with Mean Streets Casino is probably Scorsese's most underrated and unheralded picture. I would also venture to say that this is probably his most ambitious film. The film deals with a particular time period and a particular atmosphere and accomplishes an overwhelming achievement by creating and accurately portraying both. The art direction is splendid, most likely the best of any film Scorsese has ever done. The acting is superb. I never thought Pesci would be able to top his dynamic performance in Raging Bull until I saw Casino. Every time I watch this picture I fall in love with it all over again. This is the most honest depiction of Las Vegas, especially of the time period it was portrayed in. Scorsese's direction is flawless. Perhaps it is because I watch alot of Scorsese and Kubrick films, but I am becoming less satisfied with plot driven films and more enamored by films that possess the freedom that typical stories just don't seem to hold. Sharon Stone gives the best performance of her career, and as far as the editing is concerned, well if you believe like Kubrick and Pudovkin that a film is not shot, but built who better to have on your team than long time cohort, collaborator, and editor Thelma Schoonmaker. Ultimately, the genius of Scorsese is not just in the mastery of the medium, but in the understanding and appreciation for the necessity of great collaborators on all levels that Scorsese has consistently utilized throughout his career. Casino exemplifies not only the best of a Scorsese film, but transcends it. This film is truly a gem.