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Reviews
Apocalypse Now (1979)
Peter Arnett's Comment
I love this movie. I'm reviewing it in order to pass on Peter Arnett's observation about it. He was a noted journalist who covered the war, risked his life doing so, got shot at, etc. In a Q and A in the San Jose Mercury News in the 1990s he said "Apocalypse Now" was the best Vietnam War picture, that it captures the madness of the conflict quite brilliantly.
I would also mention that every role in the film is beautifully acted. G. D. Spradlin -- Dennis Hopper -- Frederic Forrest -- etc. And Marlon Brando, who is handed an impossible role -- a role where our expectations are built up, built up, built UP over the course of the movie before we meet him -- he pulls it off somehow.
Yesterday (2019)
Oy Vey.
The first 45 minutes are very good. The scene where Himesh Patel sings the title song for his buds may become a classic moment in the history of movie music.
The film collapses in a heap in the second hour when it more-or-less forgets about the Beatles and gets much more interested in the mechanics of show biz stardom.
Inside-Hollywood stuff can work if handled well ("Sunset Boulevard"), but it's tricky territory, and when it's bad it's just sad ("Real Life"). The sequence in the big long L.A. conference room is grotesque. Kate McKinnon's work is like a parody of Rosanna Arquette's role in "The Big Blue," which itself was a parodistic part that mis-fired and sank the picture 'neath the blue waves.
Lily James is solid start to finish. Patel does his darndest.
As Roger Ebert (among others) noted, an idea is not enough for a movie.
Foolin' Around (1980)
Wow, Siskel and Ebert Really Missed This One
This movie is available free on YouTube.
If you scout around a little bit here on IMDb you'll find Siskel and Ebert hating this film with considerable vigor. They're really wrong IMO. The movie is worth watching. I'm not saying it's a comedy classic--there's a fair bit of dumb crap to wade through, and the last 10 minutes are weak--but its best moments are fun and interesting. (For example, Eddie Albert's scene at the construction site with Gary Busey, at 1:14:00, is honest and powerful, yeah a bit melodramatic, but the actors keep it real. Notice how Albert deliberately drops an apple, to show the height they're at, and then has another one ready to eat.)
Annette O'Toole and Busey have definite chemistry. Busey displays his physical charisma and goofy charm. O'Toole is the making of the picture. This is some of her best work. She captures something essential about a young woman having trouble deciding about her future. I'm surprised that both Siskel and Ebert fail to see the quality of her performance. (The filmmakers missed a great shot by not adequately lighting her face when she invites Busey into the back of the van. The cinematographer, Philip Lathrop, should be drummed out of the A.S.C. for that.)
Look for William H. Macy early in a small role; the scene is important because Busey needs to prove his mettle and his slight craziness, and does so. I laughed out loud at Tony Randall's work. Eddie Albert, who grew up in Minnesota, played two interesting Minnesota business leader types in his career: here and in "The Heartbreak Kid," 1972 version. By the way, if you know the Twin Cities at all, this is an absolute must-see.
The Sea Around Us (1953)
Rachel Carson Did Not Like This Film
The film is based on "The Sea Around Us," the extraordinary book published by Rachel Carson in 1952. She signed away the rights to the title and got a little bit of money. She was appalled by early scripts and did not like the finished product.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)
Beautifully Made and Scary as Heck
The 1970s saw an explosion of conspiracy movies including "The Conversation," ""Chinatown," "The Parallax View," "Three Days of the Condor," "Marathon Man," and "All the President's Men." The deep cultural instigators of this trend were, of course, the JFK assassination, Vietnam, and Watergate, and the McCarthyism of the 1950s. "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" is a member in good standing of this category (a shade behind "Chinatown" and "The Conversation" in terms of quality).
It's also part of a trend that might be summarized as "1970s Sci Fi Explosion That Started With 'Star Wars.'" Conspiracy....sci fi....green light from Hollywood!
"Invasion" is creepy, intense, and deeply paranoid. It's got a million things going on to keep you jumpy including some near-subliminal stuff.
The cast is outstanding. Leonard Nimoy is an inspired choice as the shrink - his Spock-ness plays perfectly into how his role develops here. Veronica Cartwright is splendid - what a fine, authentic, beautiful, under-rated performer. Her joy at the thought that the space invaders might be defeated (when she's standing in the staircase with Donald Sutherland and Brooke Adams) perfectly sets up the last section of the film - she's shrewd and insightful about the invaders, so her fighting spirit convince us that victory is nigh, and we carry this optimism forward.
The film isn't perfect. The chase scenes go on a shade too long. I'm not sold on the factory burning although I understand the need for a boffo blazing attack. I think that pods probably should NOT be loaded onto the big ship - I think the film should generate as much hope as possible at that juncture - but I do see that Donald needs to be gotten back downtown. Jeff Goldblum's character is not delineated well - his beef with Nimoy is murky. I probably would have steered clear of the Kevin McCarthy cameo, but plenty of people like it, including McCarthy, no doubt.
It's one of the great San Francisco movies, chock-full of SF references, including Donald Sutherland being Mr. Cool Chef, cooking up a lovely SF dish in a wok with perfectly-sliced garlic and ginger. (Does that sequence owe anything to "The Godfather" where Clemenza cooks for the boys? The two scenes are shot in almost exactly the same way.) I love the shot where the SF fog rolls in (that's JUST what it looks like) and you wonder if it's fog or more of the pesky space plants. (Northern California fog gets major play in another film of this era,"The Fog.")
The film is mostly shot in low light - night-time, minimal indoor lighting, overcast and/or rainy days. This works nicely, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. (The film stock shows definite graininess, as one might expect with low-light film; I have no problem with that.)
The ending is the best ending of any horror/sci fi movie ever made.
Nim-a, geu-gang-eul geon-neo-ji ma-o (2014)
One of the Great Documentaries Ever
This film is without question the finest documentary I've ever had the honor of watching. It's an astonishingly beautiful and moving examination of love, life, aging, family, work, the seasons, and Korea. As someone studying documentary filmmaking, I can only say, I hope and pray to have an opportunity to do something half as good - if I do, I'll feel my life has been well spent.
Ambush Bay (1966)
Cheap Remake of 'Kwai'
This is a remake of "The Bridge on the River Kwai" at one-tenth the cost (resulting, not surprisingly, in far less quality).
Ten bullet points:
1. I first saw the picture in about 1970 on "NBC Saturday Night at the Movies" and loved it. I was very young. 'Nuff said about that.
2. It's not available as a DVD on Netflix, for some unknown reason, but is available for streaming there, and is available free on YouTube, somewhat altered (darkened to avoid copyright issues).
3. The music, by Richard LaSalle, sounds very much like "Kwai" except not as good. LaSalle scored many films in his career, all of them destined for second billing at drive-ins.
4. The stars are mediocre. Hugh O'Brian (the poor man's William Holden) is palpably bored and/or wooden to the point of parody. O'Brian had quite a career going for himself in the 1950s but by the time of this production was C List. (He was a good man though; inspired by the great Albert Schweitzer, he founded a charitable foundation that seems to do good things.) James Mitchum, son of Robert, looks just like his old man (as he undoubtedly heard every day of his life) but has very little of daddy's talent (yes, nepotism does get your foot in the door in Hollywood). His role here, as written, is actually somewhat subtle and complex, involving emotions like ambivalence; he just ain't up to putting the stuff on the screen.
5. Two supporting actors do well here: Tisa Chang as Miyazaki and Mickey Rooney as Ernie. Miyazaki is tough, earthy, sexy, real. Ernie is full of vinegar and has a couple of funny lines. The film's director (Ron Winston) should have seen that Rooney brought his A game to this production and was worthy of a lot more screen time.
6. Re James Mitchum - what a burden, to be the not-very-talented son of a really famous father and look just like him. I think of Dhani Harrison (son of George) in this context. Difficult to have one's own life. (I really think Dhani should turn his back on all those millions of dollars coming in every year, and the endless parade of luscious 20-year-old groupies, and strike out totally on his own. Easy for me to say, right.)
7. The heart of the film is the teahouse sequence followed a bit later by the village sequence. These are reasonably interesting - maybe worth six stars.
8. There seems to be a modest Vietnam connection here. My guess is, this is why the film got funded (it was made in 1965-66). Several lines of dialogue suggest Vietnam including "Who's the enemy?" "Anyone." That kind of thing.
9. As various reviews note, these commandos aren't very good at their jobs (thanks to the film's writers). Examples abound. For instance, during their first encounter with the enemy (three Japanese soldiers eating supper) they open fire much too hastily (i.e., they don't wait to see if any enemy soldiers are off in the forest taking a dump or watching birds or whatever). This tactical failure gets the head honcho of the commandos killed. Handy for script purposes but absurd for believability.
10. Watchable for Mickey, for Tisa, for the teahouse and village sequences, and for the Philippines locale, and if, like me, you love war movies and are willing to put up with a lot of mediocrity.
French Connection II (1975)
A Disappointment
It's not fair to compare this film with "The French Connection" which is a once-in-a-generation coming together of perfect script, perfect cast, and perfect director. (Also perfect timing - America was very worried circa 1971 about whether big cities like NYC were governable. Plenty of academics said "No they're not!")
That said, I will proceed with my comparison. The greatest strength of "The French Connection" is its gritty realism - its near-documentary feel. We are convinced this is how New York cops speak, move, and behave on the mean streets while chasing down drug traffickers. We miss this in "The French Connection II" where, too often, things feel artificial, forced, staged.
The second big problem with "II" is all the fricking scenery chewing going on. Gene Hackman was a 900 pound elephant by the time the producers started developing this picture - what he wanted, he got. I would be willing to bet that he wanted the addiction/withdrawal sequence to be lengthy and detailed ("Hey, I can really ACT here and get me some AWARDS"). The sequence ends up being show-offy after 15 minutes. (I will say, the way Hackman says "Dandy little southpaw" is gorgeous.)
The score is mediocre (a sharp contrast to the razor-sharp, minimalist scoring of the original, even though they're written by the same guy). The photography is average (again a sharp contrast).
Re the fish-gutting sequence at the beginning of the film - this would work much better if we were informed from the outset that they're looking for drugs, then we'd find their work funny and intriguing rather than weird. Re the cultural/language gulf between a New York Irish cop and Marseille - this is moderately amusing for a while but gets played-up too much. Re the red truck in the heroin lab - it's parked a good 60 feet from where it logically should be; this is Amateur Hour filmmaking, done merely to create a little bit extra shoot-'em-up excitement. Re the inside of the heroin lab with all the test tubes and lab technicians - this is interesting stuff - much more could have been done with it.
Real Life (1979)
Pure B.S.
Midway through this film we are in the operating room of a veterinarian (Charles Grodin) watching his surgery on a sick horse. We are asking ourselves, "WTF?"
We are specifically asking ourselves "WTF does horse surgery have to do with the premise of this film, which, we thought, was to show the wackiness of an American family?" The answer to that question is "Nothing" and therein resides a core issue of this film: it doesn't seem very interested in the wackiness of an American family. The family has been pretty much abandoned by this point. The family was probably a key aspect of the elevator pitch for the film, but once Albert Brooks got his $3 million, the family was forgotten in favor of encompassing "larger"themes.
A little bit later in this film we are in the living room of Albert Brooks. Several psychologists have gathered around a table and are analyzing a piece of film shot by Brooks showing the hands of family member Charles Grodin picking up a coffee cup. The psychologists make a useful and funny point or two about the hands and coffee cup, but after five minutes we are are thinking, "How long will this sequence last?" The answer: something north of 10 minutes. One-tenth of this movie consists of psychologists arguing.
Another 10 to 15 minutes of the film is occupied by the mom (Frances Lee McCain, whose performance here is very good) falling in love with the director (Brooks) and then falling out of love. We get zero motivation for mom doing this; her feelings just suddenly appear, flower, and disappear without a trace. (She's the best thing in the film, and boom, she's gone.)
This film, at its core (and here's the primary "larger" theme) is a satire on the evil ways of Hollywood —- its self-absorption, its idiocy, its unchained narcissism as embodied in Brooks. There are lots of inside Hollywood jokes. Insider b.s. dominates the proceedings. This tricky territory has been handled well once or twice in film history -— "Sunset Boulevard" comes to mind —- but really, the ticket-buying audience doesn't connect to, and isn't interested in, the inside of Hollywood (in fact, basically hates the inside of Hollywood) unless an Everyman of the caliber of William Holden is present as their representative. (Memo to Albert Brooks: you're not William Holden, and, by the way, your co-writer, the oh-so-arch Harry Shearer, is no I.A.L. Diamond, who was an actual human being.)
Brooks has chances, in a couple of places, to make this thing work. Early in the film he lines up his team —- the production staff for the film he wants to make. There are Teamsters (an endless number of them, another insider joke), cameramen, a publicity man, etc. Here's an opportunity for big-league satire rather than small potatoes. Brooks could make that publicity man into The Publicity Man, all full of Hollywood self-importance and corruption and absurdity. He could smash through the fences and blow Hollywood frickin' UP, and if he could do that early in the film, he could set a pace that could make the whole thing sing. Doesn't happen. The sequence ends up a big nothing, a mouseburger, because Brooks and his writers lack the guts to let 'er rip. We end up agreeing with his self-assessment: "I'm a stupid, stupid jerk." The camera guy who looks at his watch toward the end is on the mark.
This is a worthless, audience-insulting, thick-headed movie. That said, I'm sure one or two people in Hollywood watched it, said, "The man's a genius!" and invested millions in his (and Harry Shearer's) filmmaking future. So how'd that work out, fellas?
The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)
Historical Accuracy is Not Relevant Here
I write this review as a response to another review here at IMDb.com (the first review listed, as of 6/9/2017, titled "Good film, but a travesty of history," written by someone with the screen name "gcaplan").
The review by gcaplan states as follows: "I am normally an admirer of David Lean. But it is difficult to understand why he chose to base this film on a real event at the River Kwai, as it grossly misrepresents the real 'Colonel Nicholson' and caused considerable distress to both him and the River Kwai veterans. The Colonel Nicholson character is based on the allied camp commander, Lieutenant Colonel Philip Toosey, who was a remarkable officer by any standards."
I have the greatest respect for the sacrifices of the warriors of World War II and for historical facts. I would urge upon reviewer "gcaplan" the following thought: making a great Hollywood film that will sell tickets to millions of people is not necessarily connected to historical accuracy. David Lean did not consider himself bound by historical fact as he made this film. He considered himself bound by the need to deliver a great and inspiring movie-going experience to movie-goers of the world. In my opinion, this is the only criteria a filmmaker should adhere to, unless he/she is making a documentary film.
History, generally speaking, is too squishy, too-spread-out, too ambiguous, too complex, too lacking in the elements of drama to produce a good two- or three-hour film or script or play unless you play around with the facts, compress stuff, tweak people's characters so as to make them more understandable and/or more dramatic. Shakespeare knew this. Robert Bolt ("A Man For All Seasons") knew this. David Lean knew this. If you're spending a fortune making a two- or three-hour production that intends to appeal to lots of people, and you're dealing with history, you've got to simplify in spots, enhance in spots, move things around. Above all you've got to create drama and conflict that's readily graspable. Otherwise you're just doing a vanity project. If you've got millions of dollars to spend on a vanity project, fine, do what you want, but if you want a return on your investment, as most filmmakers do, you'd better create a great story with vivid and dramatic conflict.
Lean's creation of the Col. Nicholson of "The Bridge on the River Kwai" (with a lot of help from Alec Guinness, needless to say) was a key step toward generating dramatic conflict in the script and thus creating a great film. Minus this depiction of Nicholson we have a lesser film - in fact, we probably have a nothing film that few people pay money to see.
I am skeptical of the assertion by reviewer "gcaplan" that the film has caused "considerable distress" to the brave and strong survivors of this prison hell. I'm inclined to think they're tougher than that. I would like to see substantive evidence for this assertion in the form of a specific citation, since this assertion is the crux of gcaplan's review. I suggest the possibility that the film has caused SOME distress to SOME of the survivors of this hell, and has been loved by others, who recognize that, minus Lean's monumental effort to create dramatic tension, virtually no one would have ever heard of the movie, nor of the bridge, nor of them - surely no one in the younger generation. As it is, everyone who loves great movies has heard of these men and regards them as great.
"The Bridge on the River Kwai" is a true depiction of what might happen to men at war. It is not true in terms of actual facts and makes no pretensions in that regard. Down here in the real world, millions of people seek entertainment. They got it from this film. It's possibly the best World War II film; it has nothing to do with the actual facts; and I say to David Lean, WTG. Well done, to have the guts and talent to take a less-than-cinematic story, tweak it, massage it, re-write it and make a great cinematic story.
By the way, the facts of the great bridge can be found by anyone who cares to do a bit of looking. I urge them to do so.
Skokie (1981)
Definitely Worth Watching
One of the better TV movies ever made about a current political issue. The issues are dramatized vividly - freedom of assembly vs. the rights of a community. The performances are consistently excellent. I would especially cite Danny Kaye, whose portrayal of quivering outrage is one of the great moments of his wonderful career. I was interested to read about the career of the screenwriter, Ernest Kinoy. Among his many credits are a couple of episodes of the excellent short-lived series "The Senator" (part of "The Bold Ones"), very much a "ripped from the headlines" series. So too with this movie.
The Blue Max (1966)
Very Good War Film
World War I set the template for the bloody 20th century. The Great War, as it was known until World War II, created thousands of heroes. It consumed millions of lives, broke millions of hearts, and damaged millions of psyches. It revealed the murderous implications of technology (much to the shock of Victorians who believed that science and technology represented pure and undiluted progress). It exposed the mendacity of governments, financiers, and elites, thereby destroying the naive trust of the 19th century, when governments and elites were actually believed. ("The last one of all," said the French of this war. "The war to end war" said President Wilson. Mm-hmm.)
The Great War has gotten a fair bit of filmic attention, although not as much as it deserves, and not nearly as much as WW II. For me, the movies of WW I that stand out, that are worthy of four stars, are "Lawrence of Arabia," "Paths of Glory," "The Grand Illusion," "A Very Long Engagement," "King & Country," and "La Grande Guerra." I give a solid three stars to "Gallipoli," "The White Ribbon," "Wings," and several others including "The Blue Max."
The air war of World War I was epic and highly photogenic. The aerial scenes in "The Blue Max" are excellent and generously long.
Most of the acting is very fine. I would especially mention Karl Michael Vogler as the squadron leader; he's entirely convincing. Vogler was a major presence in German film for many years; he appeared only occasionally in Hollywood productions but was always good--for example, his work as Rommel in "Patton," where his weary walk and subdued ferocity perfectly capture the ailing field marshal circa 1943-44.
A character actor named Harry Towb plays Vogler's aide-de-camp. He's very strong in the role. I looked him up. He too is in "Patton"--he's the cook who gets chewed out by the general: "Where's your helmet?" demands Patton. "HELMET? General, sir, I'm a COOK!" "You're a soldier. Twenty dollar fine." (That, by the way, is a week's pay.) Stanley Kubrick, who had a gift for finding excellent understated actors, liked Towb's work and cast him as the innkeeper in "Barry Lyndon."
George Peppard is OK here. I'm not a Peppard fan--the stiffness and utter lack of depth get to me after a while--but he works hard to portray a guy with a major chip on his shoulder (maybe Peppard's real-life chip helped). One wonders what a good actor might have done with this meaty role. (Michael Caine comes to mind in this regard; also Robert Redford, Oliver Reed, and Warren Beatty.)
This film was nearly the last gasp for Peppard's dreams of becoming a superstar. He had been groomed for the spotlight for years ("How the West Was Won," etc.) but it never quite worked out. A year after this film came out, he got second billing to Rock Hudson in the pretty bad "Tobruk," and a year after that starred with Mary Tyler Moore in "What's So Bad About Feeling Good?" which was seen by exactly four people. Peppard's next stop, basically, was TV, where he kept body and soul together for years (despite getting fired from "Dynasty" for being a jerk; John Forsythe got the gig and perhaps wept tears of joy).
Ursula Andress is spectacular here. She is at her luscious best, and may I just say, damn that stupid towel. James Mason is good. The glimpses of Berlin streets are interesting. The cameo by the Red Baron is fun. I wonder if there's any connection between the baron's appearance in this film (which was shot in 1965) and Snoopy's charming fight with the Red Baron in "Peanuts" which began in the autumn of '65.
The concluding sequence of the film is idiotic in terms of logic. Mason sends Peppard up to die in a rickety plane to get rid of him--he sends up a "death trap" of a plane over a huge crowd. Not just a huge crowd but a huge crowd filled with dignitaries, including the crown prince of the realm, half the general staff, and, most importantly, all the aircraft designers and builders. The plane flies right over the crowd a couple of times. The scriptwriters could have steered clear of any problems by having Mason say, "I want to see some real flying--but confine yourself to the far side of the field for safety." "Safety? I care nothing about safety!" "That's an order." Still, the sequence is memorable, in a melodramatic way.
If you want to read a short piece about the air war of the First World War--the intensity of it, the honor of it, the class-bound nature of it--check out the "Manfred von Richthofen" entry in Wikipedia.
Gunsmoke: Romeo (1957)
Robert Vaughn and Barbara Eden
I'm not a big "Gunsmoke" fan, but here we have a young Robert Vaughn and Barbara Eden, about seven years before they hit their respective gold mines ("The Man From UNCLE" and "I Dream of Jeannie"), and they make this episode watchable (if, that is, you grew up with those two '60s shows as I did). Eden is amazing - she has the basic vibe here of a huge force of nature, a magnificent hurricane let's say. She gets the little things just right, like how she glances longingly at Vaughn as he leaves the room. She seems eager to spill out of the hokey gingham dress that they put her in, and inundate the town with her glorious self (maybe along the lines of Debbie Reynolds in "How the West Was Won," singing and dancing up a storm). Vaughn seems to be a tiny bit out of her league (i.e., below it) but that's a mere quibble on my part. So, yeah, this was an interesting show, helped along by the Shakespeare connection and Dennis Weaver as Chester.
The Paper Chase (1973)
A Good Film About Academe
I offer 10 random observations about this watchable film. (Writing random observations is MUCH easier than writing a coherent review.)
1. Early in the film, Lindsay Wagner playfully bites her new boyfriend. This was quite a charged moment in 1973. Audiences gasped. Boys went home from seeing this picture and dreamed of being bitten by Wagner and/or a substitute. Girls tried this idea out. Is this perhaps the first time when a woman bites a man in an erotic way in a mainstream Hollywood film (i.e, other than in a vampire movie)? Has some student majoring in Film Studies possibly written a paper about bites in the movies? Today, Lindsays's bite is a "meh" moment with zero punch. Times change, eh.
2. Every good college in America has a Kingsfield or two or three on the faculty - i.e., a legendary prof who is the object of student obsession (i.e., a mixture of awe, love, fear, lust, lust for knowledge, etc). At Brown University in the 1970s and '80s it was Edward Beiser of the Poli Sci Department. Beiser was at his peak in 1973, and more than one person on the Brown campus speculated about whether or not he had influenced the Kingsfield portrayal. (Highly doubtful that he did, but the possibility was a major topic of conversation in Hegeman Dormitory over pizza from Domino's and Michelob beer.)
3. Check out the hair in this film! OMG! Lots of hair! This is exactly how people wore their hair circa the early '70s. Ford's hair is epic. Hart's hair is long throughout, but seems to change subtly in appearance several times, possibly reflecting some of his internal struggle to come to grips with his conflicts about life, love, ambition, being human.
4. There's a light seasoning of things nautical in the film: Kingsfield's ship model. His ship painting. The captain's chairs used by the study group. I have no idea if this has any meaning; probably not. I mainly mention it because I love captain's chairs and these examples are first-rate (to use a nautical term). BTW, I believe Hart should have knocked over Kingsfield's ship model during his intimate encounter in the study. This would have given him the opportunity to try, desperately, to piece the thing together in 30 seconds after Kingsfield arrives home - a nice parallel to the impossibility of his weekend research assignment. Alternatively, I think Hart and Susan should have done the deed in the study and been caught in the middle of it. Or how about this: they do the deed in the study and knock over the ship's model. Kingsfield hears this as he walks in, glances toward the study, sighs mightily, and walks wearily up the stairs. He's heard that very sound before, he knows what's going on in there - Susan, dear Susan, is banging another of his students and knocking over his ship model.
5. The actress Regina Baff is perfect as Asheley Brooks, wife of the gifted-but-out-of-his-depth Brooks. Baff seems not to have had much of a career in film after this performance. Odd, that.
6. Which leads me to my next question, what the heck ever happened to Timothy Bottoms? I know he's made a lot of pictures over the years but his career never again remotely approached the fabulous heights of 1971 to '73 ("Last Picture Show" and this film). He perhaps entertained the thought that he could become the next James Stewart. (Tom Hanks got that gig.) Timothy! Timothy! Where on earth did you go? (And if you recognize THAT pop culture reference, you get major points from me.)
7. We learn that Kingsfield sat with the president of the United States at a Yale-Harvard football game. This moment is described by Susan while she and Hart romp through the mostly-empty stadium. The president is not named. Judging from various clues, it must have been John F. Kennedy. We are curious, as we watch, which president it was; we are left to our own devices to figure it out. I don't see why the script doesn't just say it. The script mentions Adlai Stevenson and shows a picture of Ike; why is it so shy about Kennedy?
8. At least two major films of the early '70s showed Ivy League-educated young folks rebelling against, but eventually joining, the Establishment - this one and "Love Story." (Admittedly there's some ambiguity about Hart's final decision but I think we know the path he'll choose.) Thus America reassured itself that its institutions would be perpetuated.
9. To follow-up on item (1) - 1972-73 was a peak for the sexual revolution. It was during the '70s that the ferment of the '60s reached down into the general population and affected the behavior of not merely a few elite people like the Beatles and the Grateful Dead but millions of people. This fact contributes to the quickness with which Susan beds Hart. The Susan role can really be seen as a pivotal one in the sexual liberation of women in the movies.
10. One of the central challenges of the script is, how much case law should we include? How much recitation of the law will the audience tolerate? I can well imagine long discussions among the filmmakers about this. I think they present exactly the right amount of law and exactly the right kind - i.e., a modest amount of juicy, interesting, and basic stuff.
Two of Us (2000)
Small, Quiet, Modest. And a Masterpiece.
If you love the Beatles or have ever loved a Beatles record, you will probably enjoy this film. Ditto if you are interested in creativity and/or friendship and/or the nature of superstardom.
It's a small movie, i.e., low budget; it's proof that a modest budget and tons of love can generate greatness. There are moments of absolutely uncanny truth here. When Macca is sitting at the piano, and Johnny is sitting in his famous window well, and the late afternoon light is filtering into the room, you get a surge of, "OMG, that's how it might have been or should have been." The elevator ride is another gorgeous moment and ranks as one of the great elevator scenes in the movies. (The history of the movies offers many great elevator scenes; Google "23 Best On screen Elevator Moments.")
The acting is stunning. I'd put these two performances, by Aidan Quinn and Jared Harris, on my list of greatest depictions of actual people in the history of film, right up there with George C. Scott in "Patton" and Greta Garbo in "Queen Christina. The accents are good, the physical movements are spot-on, the depth of feeling is profound.
The screenplay by Mark Stanfield is outstanding. It delineates with precision, accuracy, and economy the characters of these two monumental and hugely complex guys. It gets lots of little things right, like the fact that Macca liked to dance and thus was happy to join with the crowd and dance to the music during their walk in the park, while Lennon apparently never much liked to dance and thus doesn't in the park. Stanfield is scrupulously fair to both men and offers plenty for the actors to bite into.
The direction by Michael Lindsay-Hogg is excellent. What a long, strange, interesting trip it's been for him from "Let It Be" to this. I would have given a lot to read a transcript of Lindsay-Hogg and Richard Lester sitting together and conversing about putting the Beatles on film.
One reviewer here tut-tuts that the film goes too far into speculation, is too much an imaginative construct, that it doesn't hew closely enough to the known facts about the McCartney/Lennon meeting in '76, and thus only deserves six stars. This is amusing. One of the key things to understand about the Beatles is, because they were such a huge and glorious phenomenon, they make creative people - writers, musicians, actors, directors, etc. - sit down and think about things in new ways. They inspire artists to create new and cool things, wholly imaginative things that cast new light on dark corners of the world. So are we going to tell creative artists to get inspired by the Beatles and then clam up? To shut down their imaginative fountains? Good luck on that.
A precise creative analogy can be found in what playwright Peter Shaffer did with the life of Mozart, i.e., he didn't let the known facts about the great man stop him for a second while writing "Amadeus," he let himself get swept along by his deepest instincts, and created a deliriously imaginative play that resulted in a great film. See also the life of T.E. Lawrence, which inspired David Lean and Robert Bolt to make the somewhat-fictional "Lawrence of Arabia." The Beatles, in coming years, decades, and centuries, will inspire novels, plays, songs, films. I say, "Cool!" I bet they agree or agreed. For a clue about how they reacted to depictions of themselves, see their enjoyment of "Yellow Submarine"; see also their enthusiasm (for at least a year or two) for the Beatles cartoon series that ran on ABC on Saturday mornings - although, to be sure, Paul eventually got weirded-out by how the series portrayed him, quite justifiably.
I can well imagine the hoops the producers of "Two of Us" must have gone through to get the thing made. You don't get within 10 miles of the Beatles empire without encountering battalions of lawyers, advisors, guardians of the Holy Grail. The producers didn't get the rights to any Beatles music, but we don't miss it, really - in a funny kind of way, the quiet of the film helps it. That said, it'd be nice if the Beatles empire would now say to the makers of the picture, "If you want, you can re-edit the opening credits and use 'Strawberry Fields Forever' for it, and 'Two of Us' for the closing credits." Or maybe John's "Nobody Told Me" and Paul's lovely farewell to his friend "Here Today."
Nachts, wenn Dracula erwacht (1970)
Boring. Plodding. Bad.
Herbert Lom as Van Helsing really should be a slam-dunk - Lom was a gifted, charismatic, powerful actor who, if properly directed, could take a part and run hard with it. Van Helsing is one of the great recurring roles in movie history - Anthony Hopkins does wonderful things with the role in the Coppola version of this story; Olivier does good things in the PBS version from the late '70s. If you've got Lom playing the role, let him go, cut him loose, make him the center of the show. He's wasted here. It's like the director said to him, "Play Van Helsing as if he were a tranquilized bore." Klaus Kinski as Renfield should be a slam-dunk too. Christopher Lee as the count, ditto. Add some beautiful women, some Rumanian peasants, a sexual subtext, and some Gothic atmosphere, and you should be able to create something that's at least watchable. Instead, we get a plodding, ponderous, badly paced, poorly photographed, horribly scored, thoroughly unscary work. Why? What went wrong? I'm fascinated by those questions. My best theory is because idiots directed and produced - idiots with too much money to burn and zero talent for direction and production.
Addendum: I've just read, in another review here, that the producers scampered off with the money before the film was finished, forcing the director to foot the remaining bills. Noted.
To Tell the Truth (1956)
Classic
My rating of "eight" refers to the Bud Collyer-hosted version from the '60s which I've been watching lately on Buzzr. I haven't really kept up with the show in its recent permutations.
I watched the show back in the day and loved it. I really like the re-runs today of the old programs; they're irresistible in terms of audience participation. Collyer is one of the two or three greatest game show hosts ever IMO - good-natured, disciplined, absolutely real. I believe he was quite a spiritual man and wrote a book or two about his faith. The go-to panel for me was (from left) Tom Poston, Peggy Cass, Orson Bean (who veered in his lifetime from being a disciple of Wilhelm Reich to being a fundamentalist Christian), and Kitty Carlisle; this panel got locked into place at some point in about '65 after a fair amount of experimentation and quite a few not-so-good panelists. (Buzzr rarely plays a show from 1964-65-66 - is it because they have trouble getting clearances from companies who sponsored the show then but don't want their old-fashioned ads shown today?) Don Ameche was a frequent panelist circa 1962; he often became Mr. Inquisitor, with a harsh tone to his questioning - Don, baby, it's a game show! Polly Bergen made a bit too much of her ditziness (ironically, she later became a strong feminist). Johnny Carson was still mastering the art of being magnetic on camera; he literally never looks at the camera on TTTT and comes across as your basic leering smart-ass (which of course he was; he later learned to ameliorate the smart-ass thing with greater approachability). Tom Poston was superb much of the time but occasionally seemed Tommy Smothers-like in his inability to speak a coherent sentence; long, long seconds of air time would pass as Poston tried to think of something to say. The most drop-dead gorgeous panelist in the history of the show was Dina Merrill who virtually glowed. (And was fabulously rich.)
The quality of the guests - well, it varies, but I'd say seven out of ten are interesting. Lots of guests from the Kennedy Administration, like for example a kid who joined the Peace Corps - everyone on the show just has huge admiration for this guy and for the idea of the corps. This is fascinating, historically - hard to remember, now, just how treasured the Peace Corps concept was circa 1961-63. Ancel Keys made an appearance - in the early '60s he was a supremely confident (in fact arrogant) researcher on nutrition, a hugely influential guy, but his reputation has taken major hits since then around the topic of fat. Science marches on.
One thing I'm confused about is the truth-telling of guests. In very early shows, Bud tells us that only the real person needs to tell the truth. Later on, this caveat is dropped completely.
F Troop (1965)
At Its Best, Hilarious
Gleefully incorrect, politically speaking. It makes fun of Indians, white people, gay people, military discipline, handicapped people (there's a near-blind guy as the fort's lookout), capitalism, the Beatles, and plenty more.
Wildly uneven, comedy-wise. At its best (quite often) it's laugh-out-loud funny. Most of its best moments involve Larry Storch, and really, the program should have been called The Larry Storch Show. It's the perfect setting for him - his super-charged persona plays beautifully against low-key Forrest Tucker. He lets 'er rip, and when Larry Storch lets 'er rip, it stays ripped. I'm prepared to call his work here as good as any performance ever on a situation comedy (IMO). He can take a nothing line and make you laugh with his delivery and hamminess; when he's got a good line, you can count on him to make it sing and dance.
Thanks to Decades TV for the all-weekend splurge or plunge or binge or whatever they call it. And thanks to Larry Storch for his genius.
Two additional notes: (1) Great opening credits/theme song. (2) Melody Patterson (1949-2015) as Wrangler Jane is a wonderfully feisty proto-feminist. One of the interesting tensions of the show is, what the heck does she see in Capt. Parmenter?
Lady in a Cage (1964)
Ten Quick Thoughts on This Winner
1. This film ran today on the Movies! TV channel (a free channel) and this is why I like Movies! -- its willingness to unearth wonderful old stuff like this and air it free of charge. Too bad the network's commercials are so idiotic, frequent, and noisy.
2. Someone here writes, "Why would Olivia de Havilland accept a role like this?" Well, because she was an actor. Actors want to act. Female actors in their 40s and 50s don't get offered many roles.
3. James Caan is splendidly hammy. What a beautiful young man he was. But he was also amazingly stiff and armored in the shoulders and chest, and therein resided the source for many of his future problems with substance abuse (or so would opine Wilhelm Reich).
4. Jeff Corey plays George Brady, the vagrant dude, nicknamed "Repent." (Does the "Repent" tattoo on his hand owe a debt to the tats on Robert Mitchum in "The Night of the Hunter"?) Corey was one of the great character actors of his generation (see also his work in "Butch Cassidy", etc. etc.). He was also a distinguished teacher of acting, maybe the best-respected such teacher in Hollywood in the '60s and '70s. Among his students: Jack Nicholson, Barbra Streisand, Robin Williams.
5. There's something about a nylon pulled over the face that's just flat-out scary on a primal level.
6. Early in the film there's some pot-smoking going on in a car. This is by no means the first pot ever smoked in a movie but I'm wondering if it's maybe the first explicit, obvious case of pot smoking in a movie since the 1940s. There's an interesting list at Wikipedia called "List of Films Containing Frequent Marijuana Use" that supplies a bit of background - there was apparently a gap in pot use in movies between the '40s and the '60s. ("Lady in a Cage" doesn't qualify for the list because its pot scene is brief.)
7. The sequence at the end, where cars drive by and no one pays attention, seems to have been inspired by the Kitty Genovese murder case, which transpired in '64 and shocked the nation, and quickly interested Hollywood (Perry Mason had a Genovese-inspired case in '65). The Genovese incident was complicated and awful, half horror, half urban legend:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_Kitty_Genovese
8. This film plus "The Incident" (which came out a year later) = a good double feature at the drive-in.
9. Caan's demise in the film - splendidly weird!
10. My thumbs are up for this watchable, trashy, fun picture.
The Wackiest Ship in the Army (1960)
Very Good WWII Film
This is an entirely watchable World War II film. I say this with surprise, because I avoided the movie for years. I was aware of it as a kid growing up in the '60s - it showed up on "Saturday Night at the Movies" on NBC but I steered clear of it - I was probably turned off by the not-very-good TV series with the same title.
Jack Lemmon is excellent here in a sort of Ensign Pulver sequel. Ricky Nelson, 20 years old (strongly resembling the young Mel Gibson) is pretty good. Nelson was at the height of his fame in 1960, with a multimedia thing going on, consisting of his daddy's TV show, movies, and, most prominently, hit records. (The man had 17 Top Ten hits in his career!)
There's a gritty authenticity to the picture - for example, the sailors sweat a LOT just like they did in the South Pacific during the war. The grit combines with some laughs; this combination works well. (See "Father Goose" and "Mr. Roberts" for additional examples of this genre, drama/comedy-during-WWII.) Mike Kellin is very effective as the chief petty officer. Tom Tully is solid and subtle as the port captain - Tully suffered a tragic fate a few years later, see his listing here at IMDb for the sad details.
"Wackiest Ship" kind of falls apart toward the end when Jack Lemmon isn't around as much; it might have benefited from a few more minutes of Tom Tully. But on the whole it's 99 minutes well spent (it seems a little too short).
Safe at Home! (1962)
Bad but Interesting
This is one of those movies that's really bad but worth watching if you happen to be watching a movie channel on TV on opening day of the baseball season. The acting is mediocre (even William Frawley), the story is thin, and the moral at the end is sappy. But the picture does manage to catch something true and real about boys and their fascination with heroes. It has some interesting shots of spring training circa 1962. It features the glorious beauty of Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris (they are resolutely boring; this is worth knowing). And it gives a bit of the feeling of Florida before the big boom times of the '60s.
A Bullet for Pretty Boy (1970)
Larry Buchanan Fired From This Film?
Larry Buchanan, the Ed Wood of his day, made many bad movies in the '60s for American International. Apparently with this film he tried to elevate his game, took too long, got behind schedule, and got fired. Perhaps he also had artistic differences with Fabian. ;-) Anyway, yeah, the movie is wonderfully bad with many lovely bad touches - the bank robbery scenes occur in derelict buildings on the outskirts of downtown that apparently haven't been used in 35 years, Fabian's hairstyle is pure 1970, Fabian shows no apparent familiarity with the act of reading a newspaper, all the shades on the train are pulled down even though it's daytime, you can see the shadow of the camera against the train (because, um, it's broad daylight), the soulful song, not bad at first, gets used to death, etc. etc. etc. A useful text for stuff to avoid when you're making your first picture.
Without Warning: Terror in the Towers (1993)
Mediocre
The bombing didn't last long enough to make a good movie out of it. I realize that sounds a bit crass. I beg the forgiveness of people whose lives were scarred by this terrible event. My point is, if you're making a disaster movie, you want the disaster to last for a while. That, frankly, is what makes the movie worth watching. The sinking of the Titanic is absolutely perfect for the movies - 2 hours and 40 minutes from the moment the ship hit the iceberg to when it vanished beneath the waves. Ideal! You can be assured that James Cameron pondered the timing as he thought about doing the movie. "The Towering Inferno" - that skyscraper took forever to burn. This film - a lot of preface, a lot of emergency responders, very little oomph. I do like the outdoor shots with shards of snow falling down.
Marathon Man (1976)
Truly Bad
My problem with the film focuses on the plot, which is not remotely believable (as examined at great length in other negative reviews) and on Dustin Hoffman's performance, which is the most mannered and phony of his career. I like Hoffman in several films. I like him when he's being directed by someone who can slap down his ego and help him get at something true (Sidney Pollack comes to mind). Here, however, Hoffman is allowed to run amuck and reveal all the gas-bag I-AM-a-leading-man-because-I-work-so-hard fault lines in his work that would become so obvious in his later years. (I don't know what happened to John Schlesinger in 1976 in terms of standing-up-to-Hoffman but it was pretty bad, whatever it was. In 1969, in "Midnight Cowboy," Schlesinger was up to the large task of clamping down on Hoffman's worst instincts. Where did his strength go?) The only good reason to watch "Marathon Man" is to see Olivier try to make something of a nothing character - he does OK and of course since he's Olivier he's always worth watching. He took a lot of hammy film roles late in his career to make money (cf "The Betsy").
Hud (1963)
One of McMurtry's Trifecta
Two classic films based on the writing of Larry McMurtry have immortalized a certain Texas small town state-of-mind, "Hud" and "The Last Picture Show." McMurtry has been fantastically lucky with Hollywood, artistically and financially, as lucky as any American writer ever - see also the wonderful "Lonesome Dove" and his beautiful co-scripting of "Brokeback Mountain."
"Hud" is superb. The acting, the photography, the epic three-generational family conflict - all excellent. (I can't think off-hand of many pictures that delve into the complexities of three generations of a family; "The Godfather" trilogy kind of explores that territory, although the third generation has no actual contact with the first.)
This film caps off the first great phase of Paul Newman's career. He did some of his best work from 1956 to '63 including "Somebody Up There Likes Me," "Sweet Bird of Youth," "The Long, Hot Summer," "The Left-Handed Gun" (a really interesting portrayal of Billy the Kid), and "The Hustler." After "Hud" he had a three-year rough patch that included "The Outrage," "Lady L." and "Torn Curtain" before storming back into superstardom with "Harper" and "Cool Hand Luke" in 1966 and '67 and "Butch Cassidy" in '69.
Patricia Neal is perfect here: tough, sweet, and funny, a poker-playing mama with a lot of passion bubbling under the surface. Her role in "Hud" is quite small really (most of her screen time is in the first hour) but we feel her presence, and are thinking about her, from her first appearance. (Neal had difficult and tragic first half of the '60s - one of her children died of measles (1962), another was seriously injured by a New York taxicab (1960), and, in 1965, post-"Hud," she herself suffered a serious stroke. Neal apparently told Newman about the measles death early in the filming of "Hud"; he was so deep into his character he just said "Tough" and ambled away.)
The director and screenwriters of "Hud" deserve a shout-out and I am happy to supply it here: Martin Ritt (director) and the writing team of Irving Ravetch and Harriet Frank, husband-and-wife. Those three folks had previously worked with Newman on "The Long, Hot Summer" (based on William Faulkner's "The Hamlet").
Some of my favorite lines and images: "Far as I can get on a bus ticket" delivered with a cool go-to-hell glance. The beautiful moment when Homer belts out "My Darling Clementine" in the movie theater (by the way, that's basically the same theater as in "The Last Picture Show"). The endless skies. The sound of the wind. "We dosey-doed and chased a lot of girlish butt around that summer." "I was sitting way on the other side of the room and I got a little encouraged." The Cadillac bouncing on those country roads and railroad tracks - suspensions were none too robust in those days. The way Alma says "Somebody in this car has been wearing Chanel Number Fiiiiiive...." Her zapping with a towel of a horsefly (the moment was unscripted). The use of music (guitars, a jukebox, a transistor radio, a car radio - spare and totally right). The twisting contest. The lemonade scene. "I'll stay home. I don't like pigs." The depiction of the prairie and the sky as an Impressionist painting by Ritt and cinematographer James Wong Howe (Howe considered his work here the best of his long career, which dated to the silent era). The paperback book rack in the drugstore and the pointed commentary from the proprietor about a sex scene in "From Here to Eternity." (The paperback book rack in the corner drugstore was a significant part of American culture for decades, in a thousand cities and towns; it's gone now and mostly forgotten.)
My favorite Melvyn Douglas moment in the film is when he's taking a last look at his longhorns. It's a small miracle of acting - the camera is a good 25 feet away but we feel every bit of Homer's grief.
Speaking of James Wong Howe - there's a long audio interview with him on YouTube and there's an excellent book about him titled "James Wong Howe: The Camera Eye."
One of the interesting themes of the film is its earthiness about sex. Not just Hud's supercharged/decadent sex life but Alma's casualness about Lonnie's girlie magazine, Homer's frank appraisal of the growing boy, the provocative let's-party look delivered to Lonnie in the diner, the twist contest where very young kids get on out there - totally unembarrassed - and shake their booties, the "From Here to Eternity" moment in the store.
I have a quibble with an aspect of the script. Homer's a good man and Hud's a bad man, quite obviously, but the fact is, Hud makes a valid and defensible point about the family's future. Those fields probably hold a lot of oil and Hud knows it and wants it. Homer's prejudice against getting rich is not adequately explained. What we need is a scene where Homer and Lonnie have an encounter with some nouveau-riche oil-crazy goofballs who are drinking and partying too gosh-darn hard (with Hud amongst them); Homer sees the corruption that wealth can bring and makes sure Lonnie sees it too.