tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88749019389728807202024-02-19T08:08:42.810-08:00Shooting Lessons: 1000 Picturesackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.comBlogger128125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-74467774389433702742009-12-26T01:57:00.001-08:002009-12-26T02:15:48.291-08:00Target #284: Klute (1971, Alan J. Pakula)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing:</strong> #797<br /><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001587/">Alan J. Pakula</a><br /><strong>Written by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0506920/">Andy Lewis</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0507076/">David P. Lewis</a><br /><strong>Starring:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000404/">Jane Fonda</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000661/">Donald Sutherland</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001702/">Roy Scheider</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0162541/">Charles Cioffi</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0873148/">Dorothy Tristan</a><br /><br />For the most part, the advent of sound was utilised simply to accompany the on screen action. In <em>Klute (1971)</em>, director Alan J. Pakula does something very interesting: he uses audio to layer one scene on top of another. Call-girl Bree Daniels (Jane Fonda), held at the whim of a desperate sexual deviant, is forced to hear the tape recording of a murder. The camera never leaves Bree's face, but the viewer barely sees her. Instead, the mind conjures up an entire scene that was never filmed, the sickening final moments of a drug-addled prostitute at the hands of a disturbed man. A less-assured director might have used video footage, or even a flashback. Pakula understood that the audience would provide its own flashback, and his merging of disparate visual and audio streams allows him to tell two stories at once. In this respect, I wouldn't be surprised if the film was the partial inspiration (along with Antonioni's <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/06/target-214-blowup-1966-michelangelo.html">Blow Up (1966)</a></em>, of course) for Coppola's <em>The Conversation (1974)</em>.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419485052439593554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAMdw-4aZY6XB9D7oA31TnuRUdjoBLFau9N_GsvIm_cKS1TkYGLx4sOtFHvnacZjQxi92pl9M1L6GA1t93Uhm9NX1b8GTyyZw5oG0IzSY07HLSrj6X0QxQCqzccIuJiS0csp7YNwnKN1I/s400/vlcsnap-2009-12-26-20h52m33s140.jpg" />Though the film takes its title from Donald Sutherland's small-town detective John Klute, the character himself remains oddly detached throughout. Instead, Pakula is most concerned with Fonda's reluctant call-girl, an aspiring actress who keeps returning to prostitution because it involves an "acting performance" during which she always feels in control. Fonda brings an acute warmth and vulnerability to a film that is, by design, rather cold and detached. Pakula deliberately distances the viewer from the story, placing his audience – not in the room where the action is taking place – but on the opposite end of a recording device. His accusation that the viewer is himself engaging in voyeurism runs alongside such films as Powell's <em>Peeping Tom (1960)</em>, Antonioni's <em>Blow Up</em> and many works of Hitchcock. It is Fonda's performance that gives the film its core, more so than the mystery itself, the solution of which is offered early on. However, the extra details we glean from Bree's regular visits to a therapist could easily have been peppered more subtly throughout the film.<br /><strong>8/10</strong><br /><br />Currently my #5 film of 1971:<br />1) <strong><em>A Clockwork Orange</em></strong> (Stanley Kubrick)<br />2) <strong><em>Straw Dogs</em></strong> (Sam Peckinpah)<br />3) <strong><em>Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory</em></strong> (Mel Stuart)<br />4) <strong><em>The French Connection</em></strong> (William Friedkin)<br />5) <strong><em>Klute</em></strong> (Alan J. Pakula)<br />6) <strong><em>Get Carter</em></strong> (Mike Hodges)<br />7) <strong><em>Bananas</em></strong> (Woody Allen)<br />8) <strong><em>The Stalls of Barchester</em></strong> (Lawrence Gordon Clark) (TV)ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-284552588074469992009-12-04T23:21:00.000-08:002009-12-04T23:42:08.743-08:00Repeat Viewing: The Shining (1980, Stanley Kubrick)<div style="text-align: left;"><strong>TSPDT placing: </strong>#148</div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000040/">Stanley Kubrick</a></div><div><strong>Written by: </strong><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000175/">Stephen King</a> (novel), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000040/">Stanley Kubrick</a> (screenplay), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0424956/">Diane Johnson</a> (screenplay)</div><div><strong>Starring: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000197/">Jack Nicholson</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001167/">Shelley Duvall</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0515950/">Danny Lloyd</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001079/">Scatman Crothers</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0625167/">Barry Nelson</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0832104/">Philip Stone</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0877185/">Joe Turkel</a></span></strong></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div>As do most, I can clearly remember the first time I saw <i>The Shining (1980)</i>. I must have been thirteen or fourteen, and had just read Stephen King's novel. There was something cold and clinical about the film that really shook my spine; I could never quite put my finger on exactly why. Perhaps it was the drab colours, the detached camera-work, an overwhelming sense of apathy towards the characters' fate. Just recently, I took the opportunity to see <i>The Shining</i> at the cinema (on a double-bill with <i><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/11/repeat-viewing-clockwork-orange-1971.html">A Clockwork Orange (1971)</a></i>) and my appreciation for the film hasn't faded. An unhappily-married couple (Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall) are employed to caretake the Overlook Hotel over winter. As the long, bleak months progress, the Hotel's rich and dark history begins to manifest physically, and Jack's alcoholism and unstable psychological</div><div> state begins to crumble into maniacal madness.</div><div><br /></div><span><span><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitn4e2efRzoOTYKoSOy44I0EsTN0PmTWYChCe058Ds-RUCqhlg82uETTesx2sDYEwczXAnKfrPg12N9XeZBcB7YiGve_Sis2QyMrAwazKKoqqSFmQT89WCAe7Echb1QH6iGIq5xikbFZ4/s320/vlcsnap-2009-12-05-18h20m58s130.png" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411652652312991522" />Jack Nicholson's grotesquely over-the-top performance is terrifying, and hilarious, and insanely watchable; Kubrick encouraged Nicholson to overplay the role to its demented maximum. Not surprisingly, his favourite actor was James Cagney, who frequently eschewed realistic method acting in favour of a broiling intensity that suggested a time-bomb on the verge of exploding. Shelley Duvall, meanwhile, does a very good imitation of a complete mental breakdown (in fact, the director himself drove her to the brink with his endless insistence on re-takes, sometimes as many as 100). The exaggerated central performances are strangely at odds with John Alcott's detached cinematography, which surveys the carnage of Jack's mental breakdown with a disquieting aloofness. However, the camera doesn't merely act as an observer; Kubrick uses it to tell the story, his peculiar use of quick zooms serving to claustrophobically constrict the viewer's field of vision and emphasise an element of interest.</span></span><div><span><span></span></span><br /><div><span><span><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit31NFZnR6RmYp6vqyYuijtovFN5pCewf_BgSQs995mOq3b4CY4jIe2G2CYfG2qhSJFSOCeeEyfDWaSaYnlPm-Ek3ja3grEhVBrBZW4Eu5KUq5Tvd86Pnj1aOOMn3ibODiSvocnSFmkFo/s320/vlcsnap-2009-12-05-18h21m34s23.png" style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411652670969280114" />Throughout the film, frequent (but irregularly-spaced) title cards signal the passage of time, as though counting down to a historical moment. Jack's plummet into insanity thus becomes set in stone, inevitable, and every preceding frame is plagued by the hand of Fate, gently nudging the man towards a predetermined end. In the film's ambiguous epilogue, Jack's image appears in a photograph dated July 4, 1921. Hence, even before we see Jack Torrance first enter the Overlook Hotel, he has already become a part of its history (just as the previous caretaker Charles Grady had formerly known the Hotel through his historical doppelganger Delbert Grady, the butler). Alternatively, these visions could be a manifestation of Jack's alcoholism – note that, in every scene featuring a ghost, there is a mirror present. It can't be mere coincidence that Jack's axe-assault on a bathroom door was clearly inspired by a sequence in Victor Sjöström's <i>Körkarlen (1921)</i>, which concerns an alcoholic husband and father. </span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">9/10</span><br /><div><b><br /></b></div><div>Currently my #2 film of 1980:</div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">1)<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><i>The Elephant Man</i></span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"> (David Lynch)</span></div><div><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">2)<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><i>The Shining</i></span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"> (<st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Stanley</st1:place></st1:city> Kubrick)</span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">3)<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> <i> </i></span></span></span><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><i>‘Breaker’ Morant</i> </span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;">(<span style="text-decoration: none;text-underline:nonecolor:black;">Bruce Beresford</span>)</span></span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">4)<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><i>Star Wars: Episode V- The Empire Strikes Bac</i>k</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"> (Irvin Kershner)</span></span></span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">5)<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><b><span lang="EN-US"><i>Stardust Memories</i> </span></b><span lang="EN-US">(Woody Allen)</span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;"><span lang="EN-US"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">6)<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-US"><i>Raging Bull</i> </span></b><span lang="EN-US">(Martin Scorsese)</span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-37733819331432801882009-11-25T14:17:00.000-08:002009-11-25T14:59:44.389-08:00Repeat Viewing: A Clockwork Orange (1971, Stanley Kubrick)<strong>TSPDT placing</strong>: #93<br /><div><div><strong>Directed by</strong>: <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000040/">Stanley Kubrick</a></div><div><strong>Written by</strong>: <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0121256/">Anthony Burgess </a>(novel), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000040/">Stanley Kubrick </a>(screenplay)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000532/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000532/">Malcolm McDowell</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0535861/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0535861/">Patrick Magee</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0060988/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0060988/">Michael Bates</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0165049/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0165049/">Warren Clarke</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0180920/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0180920/">Adrienne Corri</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-18/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0789001/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0789001/">Anthony Sharp</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-25/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001190/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001190/">David Prowse</a></div><br /><div><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!</strong></div><br /><div>In Kubrick's adaptation of Anthony Burgess' bizarre 1959 dystopian novel, a juvenile delinquent (Malcolm McDowell) and his gang of droogs whittle away their time partaking in such wholesome activities as beating homeless drunks, warring with rival gangs, raping helpless women, and enjoying the music of Ludwig Van Beethoven. There are two things happening in this film: one that Kubrick inherited from Burgess' writing, and another that is endemic to the cinematic medium.</div><br /><div>The first role of <em>A Clockwork Orange (1971)</em> is as a rather vicious political satire, dryly mocking the hypocrisy of the government and its policies on institutionalisation and criminal rehabilitation. In the film, the Minister of the Interior (Anthony Sharp) is depicted as opportunistic and self-serving, latching onto the unproven Ludovico technique in a bid to stem his party's failing popularity with voters. When public opinion turns against the therapy, the Minister very swiftly back-peddles, reversing the treatment so that Alex may return to his former ultra-violent ways: "I was cured alright!"</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZpkuIJEjDNSHQKsb5Fkhcl0-c8P2KjAfWig1I5bkuFppy49plCeOMwgNSOVMkAJyl9-qyyJFVb8rd4YPlxNHDKce8pgr72fsP3vQA9zoTgrrNFZx9TVyZUOYirK13iD_1uQA00qktUzA/s1600/clockwork+orange+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408177500585930034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 237px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZpkuIJEjDNSHQKsb5Fkhcl0-c8P2KjAfWig1I5bkuFppy49plCeOMwgNSOVMkAJyl9-qyyJFVb8rd4YPlxNHDKce8pgr72fsP3vQA9zoTgrrNFZx9TVyZUOYirK13iD_1uQA00qktUzA/s320/clockwork+orange+2.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUExf4PTNuatZyJug25HL9aRVVW4dqBEitkuVaAjgkQPJTVnKVE4Yb1SLkBj57kCr3x9uBVmPAe2odKqAxk3RGQ5l0Z61-fY9DpuP7MDK0oLOWrAeFD2E_11IiraC4-6EVLW6JUNNiUjc/s1600/clockwork-orange.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408177397032223330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUExf4PTNuatZyJug25HL9aRVVW4dqBEitkuVaAjgkQPJTVnKVE4Yb1SLkBj57kCr3x9uBVmPAe2odKqAxk3RGQ5l0Z61-fY9DpuP7MDK0oLOWrAeFD2E_11IiraC4-6EVLW6JUNNiUjc/s320/clockwork-orange.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The UK edition of Burgess' novel contained a final chapter in which Alex sees the error of his former ways, and vows to reform into a productive member of society. Kubrick was unaware of this addition until he had almost completed the screenplay, and never considered using it in the film. This was, I think, a good decision. Burgess' ending shies away from the problem: by letting human nature run its course, he seems to be implying that the problem of juvenile delinquency will sort itself out. Kubrick, admittedly, doesn't offer any solutions of his own, but the corrupt manner in which he ends the film leaves a sour taste.</div><br /><div>The Ludovico technique depicted in the film involves the screening of movies, which allows Kubrick room for a degree of self-referentiality. It is in the audiences' nature to recoil from acts of sex and violence, and Kubrick's hard-nosed, deliberately-subversive approach (utilising the perspective of its biased protagonist and narrator) only encourages this response. Just as Alex is exposed to the Ludovico aversion therapy, Kubrick is exposing his audience to the same treatment. Does it work? Do we become desensitised to the violence, or do we begin to associate socially-accepted cues (i.e. Beethoven's Ninth, "Singing in the Rain") with acts of evil?</div><div><strong>9/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #1 film of 1971:</div><div>1) <strong><em>A Clockwork Orange</em></strong> (Stanley Kubrick)<br />2) <strong><em>Straw Dogs</em></strong> (Sam Peckinpah)<br />3) <strong><em>Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory</em></strong> (Mel Stuart)<br />4) <strong><em>The French Connection</em></strong> (William Friedkin)<br />5) <strong><em>Get Carter</em></strong> (Mike Hodges)<br />6) <strong><em>Bananas</em></strong> (Woody Allen)<br />7) <strong><em>The Stalls of Barchester</em></strong> (Lawrence Gordon Clark) (TV)</div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-28836951520657003412009-11-25T14:06:00.000-08:002009-11-25T14:48:43.295-08:00Repeat Viewing: Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991, James Cameron)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing:</strong> #565<br /><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000116/">James Cameron</a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000116/">James Cameron</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0936537/">William Wisher Jr.</a></div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000216/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000216/">Arnold Schwarzenegger</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000157/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000157/">Linda Hamilton</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000411/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000411/">Edward Furlong</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001598/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001598/">Robert Patrick</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0091286/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0091286/">Earl Boen</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0608012/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0608012/">Joe Morton</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-11/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0075359/';" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0075359/">Xander Berkeley</a></div><br /><div>Watching <em>Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991)</em> for the first time in three years made me remember how amazing movies could be. Director James Cameron had previously achieved unexpected success with <em>The Terminator (1984)</em>, a moody and relentlessly bleak tech-noir thriller. The inevitable sequel came armed with a blockbuster budget and state-of-the-arts visual effects, and it is a triumph on every level. The two films are very different, of course – just as Cameron's <em>Aliens (1986)</em> was very different from Ridley Scott's <em>Alien (1979)</em>. The first Terminator film was a down-and-dirty dystopian sci-fi, where the modern-day setting is just as drab and ominous as the terrifying future. In <em>Judgement Day</em>, Cameron juggles a tricky juxtaposition of hope and despair. The blindingly-vivid 1990s action sequences feel as though they were captured in the flash of a nuclear explosion, and their dazzling intensity make our glimpse of a bleak, war-ridden future all the more horrific.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408175818151904402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3GajyiJVDeeJngUYF8mvajLnFqVVrbijWCSKo6gQYDU7NcL6Mf9FckQtrlI6z8wvFi54AzERymktHt2JEGWtCp-8kwuFyDLIR_TwLqqntPdEg6rY0ddXrIA19IA9yJopRjvXu-ErF6LA/s320/PDVD_000.BMP" border="0" />Science-fiction has often tackled the notion that Mankind's technology is destined to rebel, as in <em>2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)</em>. However, unlike most entries to the genre, <em>T2: Judgement Day</em> takes the time to explore the idea. As in Kubrick's film, the fates of humans and machines become inescapably entwined: Man is no longer merely the designer (a la Dr. Frankenstein) who creates an artificial son, but one who must learn from his progeny. Accordingly, John Connor (Edward Furlong) and the Terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger) share a father-son relationship that twists back on itself like a Moebius strip, each half teaching the other. In one haunting sequence, Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton) grimly contemplates the Terminator's unwavering loyalty towards John, and his ironic suitability as a father figure. This grotesque interlacing of familial roles speaks a clear message: if Judgement Day is to be averted, Man and Machine must coexist as equals, though human vanity may never allow it.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408175823042172050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPEO00-N9IqJZ77arDLWQfbso6NusAcrW8vX_vU5bbDoFjIIf3aVmwmgkxnNL7XWvMPsyc6TbG3IagXeJW-_5UidwI9FEKQy6cJalYOAQ76h7RxJ5OKBEJEV7IcqNRhtBc_bF6HyYTn1Q/s320/PDVD_002.BMP" border="0" />Throughout the film, Cameron weaves one astonishing action set-piece after another, utilising a seamless combination CGI and optical trickery. The T-1000 Terminator at first glance seems reasonably innocuous, but Robert Patrick brings something icily sinister to the role, a cold intelligence that isn't strictly mechanical but somehow filled with imagination. An equally fascinating character, I thought, was Linda Hamilton's Sarah Connor, a complete reversal from the innocent Sarah Connor of the previous film. Now emotionally hardened by the prospect of nuclear holocaust, Sarah sees only ghosts where she once saw people, her apathy stemmed only by her maternal instincts towards John. In a haunting dream sequence, Sarah Connor is powerless to warn a younger version of herself (representative of society at large) of the coming dangers, her screams consumed by a nuclear blast that levels cities and engulfs her in flames. Hamilton's performance is bold and ferocious, perhaps cinema's most intense female action role (not coincidentally, James Cameron also provided us with the runner-up, Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) in <em>Aliens</em>).<br /></div><div><strong>10/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #2 film of 1991:</div><div>1) <em><strong>The Silence of the Lambs</strong></em> (Jonathan Demme)<br />2) <em><strong>Terminator 2: Judgment Day</strong></em> (James Cameron)<br />3) <strong><em>JFK</em> </strong>(Oliver Stone)<br />4) <strong><em>Hearts Of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse</em></strong> (Fax Bahr, George Hickenlooper, Eleanor Coppola)<br />5) <em><strong>Barton Fink</strong></em> (Joel Coen, Ethan Coen)</div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-87961479074839723182009-10-17T16:35:00.000-07:002009-10-17T16:48:47.192-07:00Target #283: 42nd Street (1933, Lloyd Bacon)<strong><em>TSPDT </em>placing:</strong> #438<br /><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0045800/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0045800/">Lloyd Bacon</a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0740622/">Bradford Ropes</a> (novel), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0416861/">Rian James</a> (screenplay), <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0786827/">James Seymour</a> (screenplay),</div><div><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0093456/">Whitney Bolton</a> (contribution to treatment) (uncredited)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0062828/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0062828/">Warner Baxter</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0199841/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0199841/">Bebe Daniels</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0107575/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0107575/">George Brent</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0444528/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0444528/">Ruby Keeler</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0452128/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0452128/">Guy Kibbee</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-7/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001677/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001677/">Ginger Rogers</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-9/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0694090/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0694090/">Dick Powell</a></div><div><br /></div><div>The backstage Broadway show has always been a staple of the Hollywood musical, and Lloyd Bacon's <em>42nd Street (1933)</em> might just be the grandfather of them all. The concept itself is appealingly self- reflexive: the process of manufacturing drama creates its own drama. Behind the theatre curtains, unbeknownst to the waiting audience, lives are being changed forever – love blossoms, hearts are broken, and directors wearily await the public verdict. Similar structures were later used in Powell and Pressburger's <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/06/target-273-red-shoes-1948-michael.html">The Red Shoes (1948)</a></em> – in which the backstage drama is foreshadowed by the ballet being performed – and Minnelli's <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/03/target-262-band-wagon-1953-vincente.html">The Band Wagon (1953)</a></em>. Better still, <em>Singin' in the Rain (1951)</em> took the same premise and applied it to movies themselves, a direct brand of self-reflexion that would only grow more overt with the likes of Federico Fellini and Charlie Kaufman. In any case, it is sufficient to say that the film's storytelling approach proved hugely influential, and many musicals have carried forth its various clichés.<br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393718712180064850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtYVN8ad-7xSSMz2XKWh4hrx-TR759FtVMtMRxQuF7l15mF0UGARufBw3NjwcXgkYp_lxoFBQVKosFBN4e61jDxLp1a-Gs3NKf5YFvPeDawwTCjCipppEM4BAqLtnytMYg7W3ixeUX0o/s320/42eme-rue-1933-03-g-thumb-728x546-1079.jpg" border="0" />In Depression-era New York, overstrained Broadway director Julian Marsh (Warner Baxter) vows to make his final stage-show his greatest of all. It won't be easy: his leading lady, the glamorous but snooty Dorothy Brock (Bebe Daniels) is torn between love and stardom, bouncing between her wealthy benefactor (Guy Kibbee) and an old vaudeville partner (George Brent). Into the show comes shy, fresh-faced Peggy Sawyer (Ruby Keeler), who learns the art of the Broadway musical, and incidentally becomes a star in the process. Among the supporting cast there are a few very familiar faces, including a sprightly Dick Powell (a decade before he toughened up with <em>Murder, My Sweet (1944)</em>) and Ginger Rogers, who proves her comedic spark even before pairing up with Fred Astaire in <em>Flying Down to Rio (1933)</em>. For the most part, <em>42nd Street</em> has an incredibly optimistic outlook, making it ideal for a lonely winter night. There's not a single unlikable character in the mix: even the snobbish Dorothy Brock has a few words of encouragement for Peggy before her nervous debut.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393718720438073986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9-vTOvwhU326CrI5rpvCANjTGx972Sd7WKUoTJ74qyvNlI9EsuslVYm-f6g7bxogWF7oF2oPPm7MVEl8JeIin7sy-yLmPXwqLIAWn0TqjHbMkij_zIb1ZsW6_aojJoOQSlQPZk43l8sM/s320/42ndst3.jpg" border="0" />Audiences are more likely to connect with the adorably innocent Ruby Keeler, but the film revolves most strongly around Warner Baxter's disenchanted Broadway director, whose body and mind is gradually but inevitably failing him. At first, Marsh seems determined to do whatever it takes to taste acclaim one more time. In a scene borrowed straight out of Warner Brothers' contemporary gangster films, he orders hired thugs to intimidate Pat Denning, Brock's secret sweetheart, but Denning gets away with little more than a cut forehead. Marsh's eventual triumph is heartening, but bittersweet, as he anonymously enjoys the poetry of critical praise just one last time. It's the only moment in <em>42nd Street</em> that strays from the film's otherwise-buoyant mood, and so it leaves an indelible mark. Most impressive of all, however, is Busby Berkeley's choreography, which really only arrives in the final act. It's remarkable how he uses human bodies like the cogs in a machine, melding human figures and movement, shot from above, into stunningly liquid abstract shapes and tessellations.<br /><div><strong>7/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #3 film of 1933:</div><div>1) <strong><em>King Kong</em></strong> (Merian C. Cooper, Ernest B. Schoedsack)<br />2) <strong><em>The Invisible Man</em></strong> (James Whale)<br />3) <strong><em>42nd Street</em></strong> (Lloyd Bacon)<br />4) <strong><em>Duck Soup</em></strong> (Leo McCarey)<br />5) <strong><em>Flying Down to Rio</em></strong> (Thornton Freeland)</div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-23805128069598068392009-09-21T03:50:00.000-07:002009-09-21T04:22:53.865-07:00Target #282: Ninotchka (1939, Ernst Lubitsch)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing: </strong>#282<br /><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0523932/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0523932/">Ernst Lubitsch</a><br /><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0501872/">Melchior Lengyel</a> (story), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0102818/">Charles Brackett</a> (screenplay), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000697/">Billy Wilder</a> (screenplay), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0281556/">Walter Reisch</a> (screenplay)<br /><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001256/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001256/">Greta Garbo</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0002048/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0002048/">Melvyn Douglas</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0163257/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0163257/">Ina Claire</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000509/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000509/">Bela Lugosi</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0750079/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0750079/">Sig Ruman</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0107795/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0107795/">Felix Bressart</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-7/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0334603/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0334603/">Alexander Granach</a><br /><br /><div><div><strong></strong></div><div>I find it a little odd that, on the cusp of WWII, Hollywood delivered a piece of anti-Communist propaganda, when clearly there were, at that time, more immediate threats to European freedom. <em>Ninotchka (1939)</em> was produced while Ernst Lubitsch waited for Margaret Sullavan and James Stewart to become available for <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/08/target-229-shop-around-corner-1940.html">The Shop Around the Corner (1940)</a></em>, but it was by no means merely a fill-in project: the film was Greta Garbo's first and only collaboration with Lubitsch, and the actress' penultimate role before a premature retirement. MGM's publicity campaign used the tagline "Garbo Laughs!" to advertise that this was a new type of role for the enigmatic actress, a comedy that promised to humanise her otherwise somber screen persona {this campaign deliberately referenced the tagline for Garbo's <em>Anna Christie (1930)</em>, which had proclaimed "Garbo Talks!"}. Though the screenplay by Billy Wilder, Charles Brackett and Walter Reisch unsurprisingly has many genuine sparks of wit, the balance of romance, farce and political commentary never quite sits as comfortably as one would expect given the talents involved.<br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383878387861998594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdUa2VMUgIqdUtXgxzZ0QaXBBXOrMgK-BIdHyo2D66HR3lrQYrpov3zbV28H49v-VHdxrMOwk1Le-xWDu9wQoS7HhFk0a0T9-VEVIXaeuJieu5gxX7K6UTgzWRHqkH4CBgjNZrHshwjco/s320/PDVD_000.BMP" border="0" />When three Soviet diplomats (Sig Ruman, Felix Bressart and Alexander Granach) arrive in Paris to sell off some jewelry confiscated from the Grand Duchess (Ina Claire) during the Bolshevik Revolution, they find it difficult to keep their minds on their work. Far away from the cold, drab apartments of Moscow, the French capital is bustling with life, warmth and prosperity (just forget that the French upper-class are not, in fact, a reasonable yardstick for comparison with the Soviet proletariat). Playful aristocrat Léon (Melvyn Douglas), the Duchess' romantic lover, succeeds in corrupting the bumbling diplomats by flaunting the luxuries of capitalistic society. To ensure that the transaction goes through smoothly, the Soviets send down Ninotchka (Garbo), a curt, tight-lipped Bolshevik with a militant hatred of Capitalism and everything it stands for. Against all odds, the debonair playboy Léon and the belligerent Ninotchka fall for one another, an attraction that ultimately proves more significant than one's national allegiance.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383878391680614178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJScnxVLsttVynO_1YSLAe2hfyD2zhIycWZQLmES4IAktzwTpH4jFP0P226GOQbFX6yR8s4Dth-jpcDyK-J7L32jB9QZ9vKf2yyO35xLVK1Tl6EJmYxNJe1NEuB6Q0dqymcRM6TmgsIc/s320/PDVD_002.BMP" border="0" />Unfortunately, once love softens the formerly stone-faced Ninotchka, the film shifts from being a lighthearted political farce {not unlike <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/07/target-221-to-be-or-not-to-be-1942.html">To Be or Not to Be (1942)</a></em> or Wilder's <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/03/target-198-one-two-three-1961-billy.html">One, Two, Three (1961)</a></em>} to a weepy romance. Lubitsch followed <em>Ninotchka</em> with <em>The Shop Around the Corner</em>. What worked so well in the latter film, I thought, was that Lubitsch's heart was not necessarily with the star-crossed lovers – James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan – but with Frank Morgan's shop owner, and his familial relationship with its employees. The three reluctant Soviet diplomats in <em>Ninotchka</em> are utterly charming supporting characters, but too often they are shunned in favour of the central romance, which seems to tread water once, as advertised, Garbo breaks character and enjoys a hearty chuckle. Nevertheless, Melvyn Douglas is magnificently debonair, bringing something distinctly likable to the role of a lazy playboy aristocrat. During her opening act, you can almost see a smile forming beneath Garbo's icy exterior, and she plays the role with just the right amount of breeziness.<br /><div><strong>6.5/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #11 film of 1939:</div><div>3) <strong><em>Only Angels Have Wings</em></strong> (Howard Hawks)<br />4) <strong><em>The Wizard Of Oz</em></strong> (Victor Fleming, Mervyn LeRoy, Richard Thorpe, King Vidor)<br />5) <strong><em>Gone with the Wind</em></strong> (Victor Fleming, George Cukor, Sam Wood)<br />6) <strong><em>The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle</em></strong> (H.C. Potter)<br />7) <strong><em>The Hunchback of Notre Dame</em></strong> (William Dieterle)<br />8) <strong><em>La règle du jeu {The Rules of the Game}</em></strong> (Jean Renoir)<br />9) <strong><em>Dark Victory</em></strong> (Edmund Goulding)<br />10) <strong><em>Another Thin Man</em></strong> (W.S. Van Dyke)<br />11) <strong><em>Ninotchka</em></strong> (Ernst Lubitsch)<br />12) <strong><em>Drums Along the Mohawk</em></strong> (John Ford)</div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-76907985330756949692009-09-18T02:26:00.000-07:002009-09-18T02:58:40.768-07:00Target #281: JFK (1991, Oliver Stone)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing: </strong>#492<br /><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0000231/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000231/">Oliver Stone</a><br /><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0308426/">Jim Garrison</a> (book), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0550285/">Jim Marrs</a> (book), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000231/">Oliver Stone</a> (screenplay), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0804466/">Zachary Sklar</a> (screenplay)<br /><strong>Starring: </strong><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-8/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000126/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000126/">Kevin Costner</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-16/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000493/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000493/">Jack Lemmon</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-18/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000198/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000198/">Gary Oldman</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-19/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000651/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000651/">Sissy Spacek</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-23/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0740264/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0740264/">Michael Rooker</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-29/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000582/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000582/">Joe Pesci</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-31/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000527/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000527/">Walter Matthau</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-42/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000169/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000169/">Tommy Lee Jones</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-45/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001006/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001006/">John Candy</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-47/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000102/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000102/">Kevin Bacon</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-78/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000661/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000661/">Donald Sutherland</a><br /><br />Oliver Stone's wildly-speculative conspiracy theory epic <em>JFK (1991)</em> opens with a montage of archival footage depicting the presidency of John F. Kennedy, 35th President of the United States, up until 12:30PM on Friday, November 22, 1963, in Dallas, Texas. However, even before this historical prologue has come to an end, Stone has already introduced his own dramatisation – a beaten prostitute, dumped on the side of a road, pleads that Kennedy's life is in danger. Her agonised cries play over familiar documentary footage of the Presidential motorcade. Already, Stone is defiantly blending fact and fiction, speculation and dramatisation. On its initial release, the film stirred enormous controversy due to its flagrant disregard for historical fact, but that's not what <em>JFK</em> is all about. Oliver Stone may (or may not) genuinely believe all of Jim Garrison's conspiracy theories – which implicate everybody up to former President Lyndon B. Johnson – but his film nevertheless offers a tantalising "what if?" scenario, an unsettling portrait of the fallibility of "history" itself.<br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382744245109281874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSXbAXll8XnT1BZGMDinwIiacFbRfyg8rcHfBN7Iiz2UzqbCwvayKGxv-0JZhyxDUtkM-iBGAu5nC65bEQmkF4eyU_yhL6n_9vb8apcmZT00L6_m1pcTWMQD3Q0wKJcdY_AwMhnfgAW9s/s320/PDVD_001.BMP" border="0" />Having undertaken some light research, I don't feel that Garrison's claims hold much water. However, that doesn't detract from the film's brilliance. Crucial is Stone's more generalised vibe of government mistrust, the acknowledgement that political institutions are at least conceptually capable of such a wide-ranging operation to hoodwink the American public. <em>JFK</em> also paints a gripping picture of its protagonist, torn between its admiration for a man willing to contest the sacred cow of US government, and its pity for one so hopelessly obsessed with conspiracy that it consumes his life, family and livelihood. Kevin Costner plays Garrison as righteous and stubbornly idealistic, not dissimilar to his Eliot Ness in De Palma's <em>The Untouchables (1987)</em>. The only difference is that Garrison is chasing a criminal far more transparent than Al Capone – indeed, a criminal who may not exist at all. Costner is supported by an exceedingly impressive supporting cast: Jack Lemmon, Walter Matthau, Kevin Bacon, Donald Sutherland, Joe Pesci, Michael Rooker, Tommy Lee Jones, Gary Oldman and John Candy.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382744238677199346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqb8Uk5w7ISywYrAQPzzEbrV3AFFcSZ72N6czr8Ecpxjm9TXm83y3S4woXNqwB0yIacsRCZOZkR02MKhAALA6loyYyP3ap1kYovgyUjw4O2YvS747A7y6eLrNuHlrD45fPa-QZH2AKTXI/s320/PDVD_000.BMP" border="0" />With the Director's Cut clocking in at 206 minutes, <em>JFK</em> is an epic piece of work. However, the film is so dazzlingly well-constructed that watching it becomes less of a choice than a compulsion. Stone frenziedly throws together seemingly-unrelated puzzle-pieces, systematically peeling back layer after layer of conspiracy until all that remains is what Jim Garrison believes to be the naked truth. Beneath the sordid details, Stone speculates on the nature of history itself. Archive footage blends seamlessly with dramatisation – but what is recorded history but a re-enactment submitted by the winners? Not even the witnesses to Kennedy's assassination, clouded by subjective perception, can know for sure what exactly took place on that dark day in Dallas. Perhaps Zapruder's 486 frames of grainy hand-held footage (combined with that of Nix and Muchmore) represents the only objective record of the event – but Antonioni's <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/06/target-214-blowup-1966-michelangelo.html">Blowup (1966)</a></em> argued that even photographic documentation is unreliable through the inherent bias of the viewer. In short, nobody knows what really happened that day.<em> JFK</em> is Oliver Stone creating his own history – or merely correcting it.<br /><strong>9/10</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Currently my #3 film of 1991:<br />1) <strong><em>The Silence of the Lambs</em></strong> (Jonathan Demme)<br />2) <strong><em>Terminator 2: Judgment Day</em></strong> (James Cameron)<br />3) <strong><em>JFK</em></strong> (Oliver Stone)<br />4) <strong><em>Hearts Of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse</em></strong> (Fax Bahr, George Hickenlooper, Eleanor Coppola)<br />5) <strong><em>Barton Fink</em></strong> (Joel Coen, Ethan Coen)ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-8599971270276157832009-08-15T03:02:00.000-07:002009-08-15T06:01:59.625-07:00Target #280: Days of Heaven (1978, Terrence Malick)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing: </strong>#164<br /><div><div><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0000517/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000517/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Terrence Malick</span></a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0000517/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000517/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Terrence Malick</span></a></div><div><strong>Starring:</strong><span style="color:#6600cc;"> </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000152/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000152/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Richard Gere</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000724/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000724/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Brooke Adams</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001731/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001731/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Sam Shepard</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0544371/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0544371/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Linda Manz</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0929057/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0929057/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Robert J. Wilke</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0795759/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0795759/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Jackie Shultis</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-7/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0546765/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0546765/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Stuart Margolin</span></a></div><br /><div>Terrence Malick is less a storyteller than a visual poet. At times, the images in <em>Days of Heaven (1978)</em> seem too beautiful to be believed – could Mother Nature even construct such moments of magnificence at her own accord? Cinematographers Néstor Almendros and Haskell Wexler (credited only as "additional photographer") consistently shot the film during the "magic hour" between darkness and sunrise/sunset, when the sun's radiance is missing from the sky, and so their colours have a muted presence, as though filtered through the stalks of wheat that saturate the landscape. Crucial alongside the film's photographers are composer Ennio Morricone – utilising a variation on the seventh movement ("Aquarium") in Camille Saint-Saëns's "Carnival of the Animals" suite – and a succession of sound editors, whose work brings a dreamy, ethereal edge to the vast fields of the Texas Panhandle. The film's final act, away from the wheat-fields, recalls Arthur Penn's <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/05/target-270-bonnie-and-clyde-1967-arthur.html">Bonnie and Clyde (1967)</a></em>, but otherwise Malick's style, contemplative and elegiac, is in a class of its own, more comparable perhaps to Kurosawa's <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/03/target-197-dersu-uzala-1975-akira.html">Dersu Uzala (1975)</a></em>.<br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370133645732891314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizgnC6lstFvHfypCQjaB9M0BeJ5ADTTr3uXDogOXp1yahE3d1GIb_4ciscemSxCSrC5GphmTJ3_d1Vt1P0UZYCAOceFUsQmH9NTwLhj1QSfbdo9S29ZBp23iJySLNfDEjvfo3RIPUo1tA/s400/vlcsnap-1474978.jpg" border="0" />Malick refuses to explore his characters' motivations. The viewer is deliberately kept at an arm's length, and Malick eschews cinema's traditional notions of narrative development. Instead, the story is told as a succession of fleeting moments, the sort that a young girl (the film's narrator, Linda Manz) might pick up through her day-to-day experiences and muted understanding of adult emotions. Note that the girl is always kept separate from the dramatic crux of the film – the love-triangle between Billy, Abby, and the Farmer – and her comprehension of events is tainted by her adolescent grasp on adult relationships and societal norms. I was reminded of Andrew Dominik's recent <em>The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)</em> {another sumptuously-photographed picture}, which also refused to explore its title character, Jesse James, kept at a distance through the impartial objectivity of the historical narrator. In Malick's film, Linda's narration tells us one thing, and the viewer sees another. But one can never fully understand the complex emotions driving human behaviour, so perhaps the girl's perspective is as good as any other.</div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370133650474883650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKxmssphXLs_KvWdO5dKdATXk_Y_gGfK4fdfY4DKX6uyLOoE-wpbAe_9knC-lKB5stCGJQW2Oi5URWUK7k9bpj7_ryM9rW5_U9BGnCiiJLO2QKLTvG9SyKlGW8LLNMZQfvUSDi1hjIbQE/s400/vlcsnap-1478458.jpg" border="0" /><em>Days of Heaven</em> derives its title from a passage in the Bible (Deuteronomy 11:21), and Malick's tale of jealousy and desire is suitably Biblical in nature. Essential to this allegory is an apocalyptic plague of locusts, which descend upon the wheat-fields like an army from the heavens. When the fields erupt into flame, quite literally from the broiling emotions of the film's conflicted characters, the viewer is confronted by the most intense manifestation of Hell-on- Earth since the burning village in Bondarchuk's <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/07/target-223-voyna-i-mir-war-and-peace_8747.html">War and Peace (1967)</a></em>. But, interestingly, Malick here regresses on his own allegory: Judgement Day isn't the end, but rather it comes and goes. Life is driven by the inexorable march of Fate: The Farmer (Sam Shepard) is doomed to die within a year; Bill (Richard Gere) is doomed to repeat his mistakes twice over. In the film's final moments, Linda and her newfound friend embark purposelessly along the railway tracks, the tracks being a physical incarnation of Fate itself: their paths are laid down already, but we mortals can never know precisely where they lead until we get there. <div><strong>8/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #2 film of 1978:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Watership Down</em></strong> (Martin Rosen)<br />2) <strong><em>Days of Heaven</em></strong> (Terrence Malick)<br />3) <strong><em>Invasion Of The Body Snatchers</em></strong> (Philip Kaufman)</div></div></div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-551264894266908332009-08-01T17:48:00.000-07:002009-08-01T18:23:44.687-07:00Target #279: A Matter of Life and Death (1946, Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger)<strong><em>TSPDT </em>placing: </strong>#126<br /><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0003836/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0003836/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Michael Powell</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0696247/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0696247/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Emeric Pressburger</span></a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0003836/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0003836/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Michael Powell</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0696247/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0696247/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Emeric Pressburger</span></a></div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000057/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000057/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">David Niven</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001375/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001375/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Kim Hunter</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-9/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0515193/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0515193/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Roger Livesey</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000277/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000277/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Richard Attenborough</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-8/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0330961/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0330961/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Marius Goring</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-15/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0557339/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0557339/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Raymond Massey</span></a></div><br /><div><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!</strong> <em>[Paragraph 3 only]</em></div><br /><div>The films of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger effectively introduced Technicolor to British cinema, but it's how they utilised the new technology that is astonishing. <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/06/target-273-red-shoes-1948-michael.html">The Red Shoes (1948)</a></em> and <em>Gone to Earth (1950)</em> each boast a wondrously flamboyant visual style, rich in lush colours and vivid tonal contrasts. <em>A Matter of Life and Death (1946)</em>, a post-War fantasy that builds on Powell's work in <em>The Thief of Bagdad (1940)</em>, is equally magnificent. As in many of The Archers' colour films, there is a certain slap-dash quality: rather than bearing the products of careful, meticulous planning, it feels as though the directors simply threw caution to the wind and went with whatever felt right {certainly, cinematographer Jack Cardiff took his to heart, choosing to "feel" the correct lighting rather than use a light meter}. Though the parallel settings never quite gel with complete harmony, the wealth of imagination, creativity and sheer gob-smacking wonderment left me utterly entranced for two hours.</div><br /><div>In 1945, a doomed British aviator (David Niven) falls in love with June (Kim Hunter), the American radio operator to whom he conveys his final words. After bailing from his floundering plane without a parachute, Peter Carter is resigned to death, but later wakes up on the beach to find that the heavenly angels overlooked him in the fog. He quickly requites his love for June, but Heaven soon sends a romantic French "Conductor" (Marius Goring) to retrieve Carter and correct their previous oversight. However, having suddenly found something meaningful for which to live, Carter demands a celestial appeal, winning the right to argue his case for extended life. Powell and Pressburger are judicious in avoiding any direct mention of Heaven, opening the film with a canny subtitle in which we are told: "This is the story of two worlds, the one we know and another which exists only in the mind of a young airman whose life and imagination have been violently shaped by war. Any resemblance to any other world, known or unknown, is purely coincidental."</div><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rPRUvbipTY9O_GtB0F-F7OLpfINmeDbzI3qScWIE_DY9OsPInuWG34PdFKueu2XCcdE-66uPYvQaAUB7Zzeau4u1sxqul2gjyJ1Z5fzJmfBAtKncmNLiOlxMjHm2W1GohyphenhyphenmfKy4WAo8/s1600-h/PDVD_002.BMP"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365165210182709090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rPRUvbipTY9O_GtB0F-F7OLpfINmeDbzI3qScWIE_DY9OsPInuWG34PdFKueu2XCcdE-66uPYvQaAUB7Zzeau4u1sxqul2gjyJ1Z5fzJmfBAtKncmNLiOlxMjHm2W1GohyphenhyphenmfKy4WAo8/s320/PDVD_002.BMP" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfEOfV_JNDMdmR1dXTbI9hiSSHbAAWgJ1ZdW_FG2ASyvUn7Lsjk0Wb6gepfBN9Sa3KHJyQdifWDsRr2Z4SWVU3U3GXiAP4zeB1Nt0sDKso3xlA4RQ-tlVf2FSQPDSpz6UX8AS0f4TK1I/s1600-h/PDVD_003.BMP"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365165890756936130" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfEOfV_JNDMdmR1dXTbI9hiSSHbAAWgJ1ZdW_FG2ASyvUn7Lsjk0Wb6gepfBN9Sa3KHJyQdifWDsRr2Z4SWVU3U3GXiAP4zeB1Nt0sDKso3xlA4RQ-tlVf2FSQPDSpz6UX8AS0f4TK1I/s320/PDVD_003.BMP" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Roger Livesey's astute neurologist is the film's most rational character, recommending a surgical procedure to curtail what he believes to be elaborate post-traumatic delusions. In tales of this sorts, the skeptic ultimately suffers at the hands of the director, but here they're apparently on his side. That Carter's visions of the afterlife are a product of a shell-shocked mind is reinforced by the film's subtle nod to <em>The Wizard of Oz (1939)</em>; both the celestial Judge and the surgeon are played by the same actor, Abraham Sofaer. However, the romantic in me – and, may I add, the atheist romantic in me – wants the converse to be true. At the time <em>A Matter of Life and Death</em> was released, the nations of the world were still mourning the War's significant human losses, and to see young British soldiers emerging from death, wide-eyed and cheerful, must have been emotionally reassuring for grief-stricken families, particularly the purely innocent image of a fresh-faced Richard Attenborough remarking, "It's heaven, isn't it?"</div><br /><div><em>A Matter of Life and Death</em> is a masterpiece of contrasts. In one memorable moment, the idyllic and vaguely-mythological scene of a naked goatherd on the beach sands is unexpectedly punctuated by the overpass of a low-flying Mosquito bomber. The most crucial contrast, of course, is that of Cardiff's photography. Inverting the logic of <em>The Wizard of Oz</em>, the Archers shoot their fantasy sequences in ethereal monochrome, whereas the terrestrial scenes are captured in glorious, vibrant Technicolor. This stylistic decision is also important thematically, typical of the filmmakers' Capra-like optimism in the years during and directly following the War (until they began to indulge in operatic tragedy). The film's afterlife is a Utopia of sorts, where the populace can indulge in their hobbies and neglect the worries of mortal life. However, the Archers' preference is most certainly for the real world. The souls of Heaven seem frozen in time, sporting the same dreary clothing and prejudices of their era. Conversely, the people of Earth – like Peter and June – are living, loving and learning every day. Life is a colourful wonderland of emotion, so make the most of it.</div><div><strong>9/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #3 film of 1946:</div><div>1) <strong><em>The Big Sleep</em></strong> (Howard Hawks)<br />2) <strong><em>It’s A Wonderful Life</em></strong> (Frank Capra)<br />3) <strong><em>A Matter of Life and Death</em></strong> (Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger)<br />4) <strong><em>The Best Years of Our Lives</em></strong> (William Wyler)<br />5) <strong><em>Duel in the Sun</em></strong> (King Vidor)<br />6) <strong><em>The Killers</em></strong> (Robert Siodmak)<br />7) <strong><em>Notorious</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />8) <strong><em>The Locket</em></strong> (John Brahm)<br />9) <strong><em>Crack-Up</em></strong> (Irving Reis)<br />10) <strong><em>The Dark Mirror</em></strong> (Robert Siodmak)</div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-24354958024839871002009-08-01T17:28:00.000-07:002009-08-01T18:06:13.173-07:00Repeat Viewing: To Kill a Mockingbird (1962, Robert Mulligan)<strong><em>TSPDT </em>placing:</strong> #252<br /><div><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0612322/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0612322/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Robert Mulligan</span></a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/writerlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0497369/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0497369/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Harper Lee</span></a> (novel), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/writerlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0285210/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0285210/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Horton Foote</span></a> (screenplay)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000060/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000060/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Gregory Peck</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-16/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000825/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000825/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Mary Badham</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-17/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0019221/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0019221/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Phillip Alford</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0576345/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0576345/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">John Megna</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0676349/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0676349/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Brock Peters</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-12/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000380/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000380/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Robert Duvall</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0653942/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0653942/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Frank Overton</span></a></div><div><br /></div><div><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!! </strong><em>[Paragraph 3 only]</em></div><div><br /></div><div><em>To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)</em> has stayed with me since the time I first saw it, perhaps because the film caught me at an impressionable age. This was in 2004, not a particularly long time ago, but it feels an age away. High school greets you at a young, idealistic age, when the world sits at your fingertips just waiting for you to take it. Having just read Harper Lee's Pullitzer Prize-winning novel in English class, we followed it with Robert Mulligan's film adaptation, which scored an Oscar for Gregory Pick and would have won Best Picture had David Lean not hustled in with his masterpiece. Even when lamentably broken up into fifty-minute intervals, <em>To Kill a Mockingbird</em> left me captivated by its magic – and, yes, there is magic. Though typically celebrated as a statement on racial prejudice in the American South, the true core of both Lee's novel and Mulligan's film is distanced from Tom Robinson's rape trial, and lies in terrible, wonderful and beautiful experience of growing up.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365161288099287986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLNXekM49fzegOzsoxqvHSbtZw7H1Ch2e2h3xrkv0fTJUONPiFqCXq1iUBQ3Wr7c6A-0ThpfBf8mjZ6b4fWv2bMI1oCYfn7zBjN3ZEGP-TQSmEaem_FE5fzbuBltal6gUgWIP4KVonPs/s320/PDVD_001.BMP" border="0" />The film, as in Lee's novel, is told through the eyes of Scout Finch (Mary Badham; voiced by Kim Stanley as an adult), the tomboyish daughter of small-town lawyer Atticus (Gregory Peck) and younger sister of Jem (Phillip Alford). Along with visiting neighbour Dill (John Megna), the two siblings whittle away their summers obsessing over local recluse "Boo" Radley, an agoraphobic, mentally-ill man towards whom the children develop both a fear and fascination. Meanwhile, Atticus is appointed to defend an African American (Brock Peters) accused of raping a white woman, and his determination to give the man a fair trial leads to heated racial tensions in the bigoted Southern township. <em>To Kill A Mockingbird</em> follows Jem and Scout as they go about the processes of growing up, learning of the bitter immorality and prejudice that lurks beyond the security of their home. Ironically, the film is weakest during its narrative crux – Tom Robinson's courtroom trial – as Mulligan strains to keep the story focused around the children, though Peck's virtuous performance compensates for the lapse.</div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365161286434076834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjODfQzGTdBHQQOwdQb1hwV6H81oXRGTjx7DBIsOXChHqtB8dRIhCavXSfaZSahybGxCTF0HLCNk9bQy2wpZKIeAWTaKG9vFXQ8UdQArf0Wu-ODFYRgVq7BNK9srDAC24VLsGL8eixQx0/s320/PDVD_000.BMP" border="0" />I've never quite been able to put my fingers around why <em>To Kill A Mockingbird</em> is, to me, such an emotionally-draining (and fulfilling) picture. Perhaps it's Elmer Bernstein's musical score, sad and wistful, like the lamentation of a fairy-tale punctuated by reality. Childhood itself is not unlike a fairy-tale, a time of infallible ideals and black-and-white ethics. Mulligan justly celebrates the steadfast moral courage of Atticus Finch, but the overriding emotion at Tom Robinson's sentencing is instead one of sinking disillusionment: while Scout watches on, uncomprehending, Jem buries his head in his arms, his childish conviction in the goodness of adults irreparably shattered. Yet, even then, hope survives for those who, like the Finch family, preserve their moral integrity. The film's fairy-tale mood, at times reminiscent of Laughton's <em>The Night of the Hunter (1957)</em>, is enforced most strongly in the children's final walk through the forest, described as their "longest journey together." Arthur "Boo" Radley, a mockingbird who might have been destroyed by less sympathetic souls, ultimately becomes their saviour.<br /><div><strong>10/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #2 film of 1962:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Lawrence of Arabia</em></strong> (David Lean)<br />2) <strong><em>To Kill A Mockingbird</em></strong> (Robert Mulligan)<br />3) <strong><em>La Jetée {The Pier}</em></strong> (Chris Marker)<br />4) <strong><em>Le Procès {The Trial}</em></strong> (Orson Welles)<br />5) <strong><em>Birdman of Alcatraz</em></strong> (John Frankenheimer)<br />6) <strong><em>Ivanovo detstvo {Ivan’s Childhood}</em></strong> (Andrei Tarkovsky, Eduard Abalov)<br />7) <strong><em>The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance</em></strong> (John Ford)<br />8) <strong><em>Cape Fear</em></strong> (J. Lee Thompson)<br />9) <strong><em>Panic in Year Zero!</em></strong> (Ray Milland)<br />10) <strong><em>The Manchurian Candidate</em></strong> (John Frankenheimer)</div></div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-60364320627388132702009-07-21T03:22:00.001-07:002009-07-21T03:33:22.650-07:00Repeat Viewing: North by Northwest (1959, Alfred Hitchcock)<strong><em>TSPDT </em>placing:</strong> #49<br /><div><div><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0000033/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000033/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Alfred Hitchcock</span></a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/writerlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0499626/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0499626/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Ernest Lehman</span></a></div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000026/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000026/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Cary Grant</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001693/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001693/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Eva Marie Saint</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000051/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000051/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">James Mason</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0484829/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0484829/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Jessie Royce Landis</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001991/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001991/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Leo G. Carroll</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-8/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001445/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001445/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Martin Landau</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-7/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0643211/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0643211/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Philip Ober</span></a><br /><br /></div><div><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!</strong></div><br /><div>Following the commercial failure of <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/07/repeat-viewing-vertigo-1958-alfred.html">Vertigo (1958)</a></em>, Alfred Hitchcock needed a crowd-pleaser. He certainly gave us one. <em>North by Northwest (1959)</em> might just be the most outright entertaining of the director's pictures, a film that exists solely to give its audience a rollicking good time. Throughout his career, Hitchcock often utilised his established stars – for example, Cary Grant in <em>Suspicion (1941)</em> or James Stewart in <em>Vertigo</em> – as an opportunity to deconstruct their ingrained public image. Here, instead, he simply goes with the flow. In his fourth and final film for the Master of Suspense, Cary Grant plays with a familiar persona – debonair and charming, cocky and mischievous. His Roger O. Thornhill (the arbitrary middle initial an overt jab at producer David O. Selznick) is an advertising executive, superficial and self-serving, but with the charisma to support these dastardly qualities. Such a man is surely in need of a comeuppance, and Hitchcock delights in every plot twist that sees Thornhill plunged ever further into a sadistic practical joke cooked up by the Cold War.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360859076318737490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWllTIKextO2v6Y42N2MfkF0SI_JIpO_nKc2pw0rXbIZZ10UBK26R_gyedwAQBl1Z_j_UoJZBWqMHfUsb4SRCOT-3bEmU6MOjvFddpqGlgNPvSN-eudDyupIvw-CopQ9t1sGgBOsaOKpk/s400/NorthLift.jpg" border="0" />Ernest Lehman's screenplay outwardly appears to be little but a selection of spectacular set-pieces strung together by Hitchcock's trademark "wrong man" motif, but it nonetheless amply supports its running-time (among the director's longest). Cary Grant's charming banter with double-agent Eva Marie Saint is tinged with sly sexual innuendo, and only Hitchcock could have ended a film with the hero's train entering the leading ladies'…. well, you get the picture. James Mason brings a dignified vulnerability to the role of Commie spy Phillip Vandamm, but Hitchcock seems only marginally interested in the character, and, indeed, his ultimate fate is completely skipped over (instead, Martin Landau's vicious henchman is given an arch-villain's death). Hitchcock's climax atop a studio reconstruction of Mount Rushmore is only effective thanks to Bernard Hermann's momentous score, but other sequences reek of the director's astonishing aptitude for suspense. The breathless crop-duster ambush is worthy of every accolade that has been bestowed upon it, and Grant's comedic talents shine during both a drunken roadside escape and an impromptu auction-house heckle.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360859077436050162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWc2W4TuQi1BiTH6A2mwWHUxtOGMNeosUULyTKUeuznSzv5dPdGqLX33DBSAhNp0ncSY0OVl05r76QJkiKGbxbo_DqLy0EKdg6R2RqVocv-09Dx_VCNUQsU3sfV61mlUM64n1BwpKpZok/s400/plane.jpg" border="0" />That the audience learns of George Kaplan's fictitiousness long before Thornhill ever does may admittedly weaken the suspense, but Hitchcock's motives are instead to recruit the audience into his own position, as director, of omnipotent power. Beneath its surface, <em>North by Northwest</em> appears to be a subtle swing at Cold War politics, and particularly the power wielded by the FBI and government committees like the HUAC. As Thornhill fights to unravel himself from a tangled web of deception and espionage, Hitchcock unexpectedly crosses to a panel of FBI agents, headed by Leo G. Carroll, who bicker indifferently over the mess into which they've got this oblivious pawn. These government employees are happy to sit listlessly by as citizens place their lives on the line, their quarrels bizarrely resembling the conversations of the gods in <em>Jason and the Argonauts (1963)</em>. Indeed, like deities, the FBI men wield the power to invent (Kaplan), destroy, or even resurrect (Thornhill) human beings, and intercede sporadically in a suitably Deus Ex Machina-like fashion.<br /><div><strong>9/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #3 film of 1959:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Die Brücke {The Bridge}</em></strong> (Bernhard Wicki)<br />2) <strong><em>Room at the Top</em></strong> (Jack Clayton)<br />3) <strong><em>North by Northwest</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />4) <strong><em>Some Like It Hot</em></strong> (Billy Wilder)<br />5) <strong><em>Our Man in Havana</em></strong> (Carol Reed)<br />6) <strong><em>On the Beach</em></strong> (Stanley Kramer)<br />7) <strong><em>Le Quatre cents coups {The 400 Blows}</em></strong> (François Truffaut)<br />8) <strong><em>Pickpocket</em></strong> (Robert Bresson)<br />9) <strong><em>Ben-Hur</em></strong> (William Wyler)<br />10) <strong><em>The Tingler</em></strong> (William Castle)</div></div></div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-88728105371370757432009-07-12T02:42:00.001-07:002009-07-12T02:57:23.681-07:00Target #278: The Best Years of Our Lives (1946, William Wyler)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing:</strong> #122<br /><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0943758/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0943758/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">William Wyler</span></a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-writerlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0437969/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0437969/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">MacKinlay Kantor</span></a> (novel), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-writerlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0792845/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0792845/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Robert E. Sherwood</span></a> (screenplay)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001485/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001485/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Myrna Loy</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0545298/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0545298/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Fredric March</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000763/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000763/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Dana Andrews</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0942863/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0942863/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Teresa Wright</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0562920/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0562920/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Virginia Mayo</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0640732/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0640732/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Cathy O'Donnell</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-8/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0751174/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0751174/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Harold Russell</span></a></div><div><br /></div><div><em>The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)</em> is one of the most powerful war films I've ever seen, and yet its story begins after WWII had officially ended. Too often in cinema, the end of the battle is considered the end of the war: a sweeping camera movement, an upwelling of stirring music, the hurrah of victorious soldiers, and suddenly everything is all right. But war doesn't end when the guns stop blazing, nor when the politicians put their pens to paper. War lingers for days, months, and years. Returning veterans, even those who emerged from conflict without a scratch, faced an uphill battle to reclaim their former lives, having sacrificed their happiest years in service to their country. In 1946, the issues faced by war veterans had only just come to public light. Two years earlier, congress had introduced the G.I. Bill, which allowed ex-serviceman access to low-interest loans with which to rebuild their lives. Post-traumatic stress disorder in soldiers had previously only been explored in the film noir <em>The Blue Dahlia (1946)</em>.</div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357508704436353074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7k65co4Mx3Zt3-N9CRSnUO9J-6WwGjNmbTNeOVBHXbnbDAgMn-3_0bqp1hFb2cJRNQcc1t1XfVgE5bIfgvI1UyebAvXCm1uIXVW3tuH-KmjMqg9YHsDEqZ7zv7w22tpLjetAiuykjLM/s320/PDVD_003.BMP" border="0" />Three soldiers from different social classes, returning to their home-town after years of conflict, are united in their desire to rekindle their former lives. But things will never be the same as before. Homer Parrish (true-life war veteran Harold Russell) lost his hands in battle, and fears that his faithful girlfriend (Cathy O'Donnell) remains with him only out of pity. Working-class pilot Fred Derry (Dana Andrews) finds that, despite his distinguished achievements in war-time, he still lacks the necessary experience to assimilate into civilian life. Al Stephenson (Fredric March) returns to children he barely recognises, but finds consolation in "the perfect wife" Myrna Loy. The intertwining journeys faced by each of the veterans are often uncomfortable to watch, sometimes shameful and embarrassing, but the overriding message is one of hope: whatever adversities these men must confront, they can be sure to rely upon the support of their family, friends and the grateful United States government.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357508706327762786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKoJ4hYuTGRnOKd-fnGjkz19APdoVEj5stdIJOgwlQmNhZ7aQdbPCoPwWv5_i5Jcw16ohqpAMzH5WQVmFQAtPvLyn91IiZkDn0ILsR6QWAx8IqOujiOnwdjNea08fs0KGh2ULe7r6Rp2g/s320/PDVD_002.BMP" border="0" />Gregg Toland's crisp deep-focus photography is excellent, but the major strength in William Wyler's drama are the characters themselves. Harold Russell, who actually did lose his hands in combat, was hand-picked from a military documentary on rehabilitated soldiers, and his performance works so well because it's genuine. Russell is clearly an amateur next to the neatly-balanced dramatics of March and Andrews – he even flubs his characters' wedding vows – but the emotion is authentic, and his pain heartbreaking. Fredric March won his second Oscar (after <em>Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931)</em>) for his role as a banker who lost his commercial hardness in the trenches. A little disappointingly, his character doesn't figure prominently in the film's second half, his role somewhat reduced to that of a vector facilitating Andrews' melodramatic, but satisfying, romance with Teresa Wright. I would have liked the film to have more thoroughly explored Stephenson's detached relationship with his children, but evidently there were time constraints to be considered – having said that, though, the 172 minutes flies by effortlessly.<br /><strong>9/10</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Currently my #3 film of 1946:<br />1) <strong><em>The Big Sleep</em></strong> (Howard Hawks)<br />2) <strong><em>It’s A Wonderful Life</em></strong> (Frank Capra)<br />3) <strong><em>The Best Years of Our Lives</em></strong> (William Wyler)<br />4) <strong><em>Duel in the Sun</em></strong> (King Vidor)<br />5) <strong><em>The Killers</em></strong> (Robert Siodmak)<br />6) <strong><em>Notorious</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />7) <strong><em>The Locket</em></strong> (John Brahm)<br />8) <strong><em>Crack-Up</em></strong> (Irving Reis)<br />9) <strong><em>The Dark Mirror</em></strong> (Robert Siodmak)<br />10) <strong><em>The Blue Dahlia</em></strong> (George Marshall)ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-24577392924911884942009-07-11T02:39:00.000-07:002009-07-11T03:06:35.307-07:00Target #277: East of Eden (1955, Elia Kazan)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing:</strong> #583<br /><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0001415/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001415/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Elia Kazan</span></a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-writerlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0825705/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0825705/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">John Steinbeck</span></a> (novel), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-writerlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0651585/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0651585/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Paul Osborn</span></a> (screenplay)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0364915/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0364915/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Julie Harris</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000015/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000015/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">James Dean</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0557339/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0557339/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Raymond Massey</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0412322/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0412322/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Burl Ives</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0202501/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0202501/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Richard Davalos</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0886888/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0886888/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Jo Van Fleet</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-7/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0215260/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0215260/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Albert Dekker</span></a></div><div><br /></div><div><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!</strong> <em>[Paragraph 3 only]</em></div><div><br /></div><div>I haven't read John Steinbeck's novel "East of Eden," but I'm familiar with enough of the author's work to know that he wasn't a "glass half-full" kind of man. Steinbeck's characters appear to persist despite their misery, devoid of hope and comfort, and persevering out of sheer bloody-mindedness. This potentially poses a problem, because Hollywood has traditionally taken the stance that it is optimism, not pessimism, that sells tickets. This clash of sensibilities is seen readily enough in <em>The Grapes of Wrath (1940)</em>, in which John Ford's assurance in the hardiness of American families sits at odds with Steinbeck's stark brand of realism. Nevertheless, Elia Kazan was an ideal candidate to adapt the 1952 novel "East of Eden," having already dealt with unflinching dramatic themes of family and societal conflict in the films <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/07/target-275-streetcar-named-desire-1951.html">A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)</a></em> and <em>On the Waterfront (1954)</em>. The pair had collaborated previously, with Steinbeck writing the screenplay for Kazan's Mexican Revolution biopic <em>Viva Zapata! (1952)</em>, starring Marlon Brando and Anthony Quinn.</div><div></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357139545154339026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2qSd63lbpGoCFws8-QA5pqGFvRHiHav9szgD7SXgTF1wxmrxfDw0JdVx-XsDsOLAKzzXID_mhlPksmsCTtZwfzhjBtlCrHitYbkzUzLC-Y7r7w2We1O9TYh12fO3paw0Cosa0mJ-C6pQ/s400/PDVD_003.BMP" border="0" />Whereas <em>A Streetcar Named Desire</em> had been a completely stage-bound film, owing to origins on Broadway, <em>East of Eden (1955)</em> allowed Kazan to spread his cinematic wings, so to speak. Steinbeck had intended his novel, in part, as a tribute to the Salinas Valley in Northern California, and so location is everything. Cinematographer Ted McCord captures the setting in lush WarnerColor, the fertile green fields consciously opposed to the bleak inner conflict raging inside the heart of the film's protagonist. Despite being visually impressive, it is – as in all Kazan pictures – the director's genius for working with actors that really shines through. James Dean, in his major picture debut (and the first of only three lead roles), delivers one of the most heartbreakingly tragic performances I've ever seen. His Cal, the Biblical Cain to Richard Davalos' Abel, has endured a life without love, every misguided bid for his father's (Raymond Massey) approval met with indifference or remonstration, as though only to cement his self-belief that he is inherently "bad."<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357139548117098786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJCKMNS05MwiRQES2bnUdVXi8JW3dj9XJGDBEUo7ZzGQMBe_lTmLUH_PpB5_3wxXnAV_tqCA0Mx-5v6HEZNEDuRSG5aQcf6rpdAE7-SfqTEjBLS7EMUzfr4SkxHQeHiTGqGuMXSgGig3E/s400/PDVD_005.BMP" border="0" />In adapting "East of Eden," another director might have aimed for sheer scope, winding up with something not unlike <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/06/target-216-gone-with-wind-1939-victor.html">Gone with the Wind (1939)</a></em> or <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/02/target-257-duel-in-sun-1946-king-vidor.html">Duel in the Sun (1946)</a></em>. Instead, Kazan plays his strengths, and it's a telling sign that the film's most powerful moments unfold, not in the outside environments that McCord captures so well, but between four walls – inside homes, sheds, and brothels. Dean's character skulks mousily in the corners, fearful about making eye contact, as his articulate, proper brother Aron makes unconsciously-condescending remarks, perpetuating roles that have been drummed into both since childhood. Only Aron's sweetheart Abra (Julie Harris) understands Cal's torment at the hands of his cold, naive family members, but by then it may already be too late to same him. At under two hours, <em>East of Eden</em> perhaps doesn't explore its characters and their motivations as fully as it might have – for example, Aron's metaphorical "slaying" at his brother's hand isn't give enough exposition – but nonetheless stands as a beautiful and astonishingly powerful piece of storytelling.<br /><div><strong>8/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #7 film of 1955:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Du rififi chez les hommes {Rififi}</em></strong> (Jules Dassin)<br />2) <strong><em>The Ladykillers</em></strong> (Alexander Mackendrick)<br />3) <strong><em>Bad Day at Black Rock</em></strong> (John Sturges)<br />4) <strong><em>Kiss Me Deadly</em></strong> (Robert Aldrich)<br />5) <strong><em>Mr. Arkadin {Confidential Report}</em></strong> (Orson Welles)<br />6) <strong><em>The Big Combo</em></strong> (Joseph H. Lewis)<br />7) <strong><em>East of Eden</em></strong> (Elia Kazan)<br />8) <strong><em>Les Diaboliques</em></strong> (Henri-Georges Clouzot)<br />9) <strong><em>Nuit et brouillard {Night and Fog}</em></strong> (Alain Resnais)<br />10) <strong><em>Rebel Without a Cause</em></strong> (Nicholas Ray)</div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-24141028597399221682009-07-09T19:32:00.000-07:002009-07-09T19:52:30.993-07:00Target #276: Wagon Master (1950, John Ford)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing:</strong> #623<br /><strong>Directed by: </strong><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0000406/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000406/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">John Ford</span></a><br /><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000406/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">John Ford</span></a> (story) (uncredited), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0285816/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Patrick Ford</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0637793/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Frank S. Nugent</span></a> (written by)<br /><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0424565/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0424565/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Ben Johnson</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0238445/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0238445/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Joanne Dru</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001013/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001013/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Harry Carey Jr.</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000955/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000955/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Ward Bond</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0447405/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0447405/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Charles Kemper</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0610253/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0610253/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Alan Mowbray</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/wl-catf-treatment-castlist/position-17/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0941401/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0941401/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Hank Worden</span></a><br /><br />By 1950, John Ford had already fully-developed the ideas and motifs that would form the core of his most successful Westerns. Always present, for example, is a strong sense of community, most poignantly captured in the Joad family of Steinbeck's <em>The Grapes of Wrath (1940)</em>. Within these communities, even amid Ford's loftier themes of racism and the pioneer spirit, there's always room for the smaller human interactions, the minor friendships and romances that make life worth living. <em>Wagon Master (1950)</em> came after Ford had released the first two films in his "cavalry" trilogy – <em>Fort Apache (1948)</em> and <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/02/target-187-she-wore-yellow-ribbon-1949.html">She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)</a></em> – and it covers similar territory, only without the military perspective and, more damningly, the strong lead of John Wayne. Ben Johnson and Harry Cary, Jr. are fine actors, but they feel as though they should be playing second-fiddle to somebody, and Ward Bond's cursing Mormon elder, while potentially a candidate for such a role, isn't given quite enough focus to satisfactorily fit the bill.<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356655730027421298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTucf8s798CkAxOSDj2CxWeRWfbpXhgXPAQ1PQC6XgPKjG1S26Z9woI5NDKvfFesVBvfTXrJez5lK_uJP_V9Zwhzct6mQm26a-m0xC3-Ldmm6a9MokipsjxxPtleU-qgMfUkpcGIfYHdM/s320/wagon_master1.jpg" border="0" />In <em>Wagon Master</em>, Ford seems so comfortable with his tried-and-tested Western formula that any character development is largely glossed over. Ben Johnson's romance with Joanne Dru is treated as an obligation more than anything else, and Harry Cary Jr's charming of a Mormon girl is so perfunctory as to be almost nonexistent in the final film, leaving one to ponder the survival of deleted scenes. Only in Charles Kemper's charismatic and shamelessly-villainous Uncle Shiloh does Ford try some different, and it works, even with his being surrounded by a troop of insufferably hammy slack-jawed yokels. Where Ford does succeed is in orchestrating the conglomeration of three distinct races of Americans – the values-orientated Mormoms, the easygoing horse-traders, the eccentric travelling showmen – into a cohesive community of pioneers looking towards a bright future. This apparent harmony is thrown into disarray by the arrival of Uncle Shiloh's gun-toting outlaws, who exploit the lawlessness of the Western frontier but ultimately lose out to the noble cowboys who "only ever drew on snakes." <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356655727709368706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3snKPzbqgx_ZbFAuQtFWVFj6oCW7MfLzL8lqrAXluQvF-tlBVtEKVGJYPk3nNo2lcqAEYPS8np8maaADhiXe4_fKIZBNwMcTKtPCaKopt3toxAgEBoqUiYQJkd8kjBMuwoZlrLAN7cU/s320/3421580052_8308e19aaa.jpg" border="0" />Ford reportedly considered <em>Wagon Master</em> among the favourite of his films, and perhaps this has something to do with the absence of big names like John Wayne or Henry Fonda. Armed only with his stock selection of usual players, Ford is able to generate a sense of community by avoiding placing focus on any one character, though most of the Mormom travellers still remain completely anonymous. Despite being undoubtedly well-made, I can't help feeling that this film only does well what other Ford pictures did even better: the terrific majesty of the the Western frontier was presented more beautifully in <em>She Wore a Yellow Ribbon</em>; the romances and friendly squabbles among community members took greater prominence in <em>Fort Apache</em>; the early relations with Native Americans, only hinted at here, were more thoroughly examined in <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/01/target-180-searchers-1956-john-ford.html">The Searchers (1956)</a></em>; the bold pioneering spirit of the early settlers was explored more movingly (albeit by Henry Hathaway and George Marshall) in <em>How the West Was Won (1962).</em> <em>Wagon Master</em> is pure John Ford, but it isn't a landmark.<br /><strong>6.5/10</strong> </p><p>Currently my #15 film of 1950:<br />6) <strong><em>Destination Moon</em></strong> (Irving Pichel)<br />7) <strong><em>All About Eve</em></strong> (Joseph L. Mankiewicz)<br />8) <strong><em>The Asphalt Jungle</em></strong> (John Huston)<br />9) <strong><em>Gone to Earth</em></strong> (Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger)<br />10) <strong><em>Panic in the Streets</em></strong> (Elia Kazan)<br />11) <strong><em>Stage Fright</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />12) <strong><em>Rashômon</em></strong> (Akira Kurosawa)<br />13) <strong><em>The Killer That Stalked New York</em></strong> (Earl McEvoy)<br />14) <strong><em>Armoured Car Robbery</em></strong> (Richard Fleischer)<br />15) <strong><em>Wagon Master</em></strong> (John Ford)</p>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-49511971561281126312009-07-05T02:20:00.000-07:002009-07-05T05:07:28.304-07:00Target #275: A Streetcar Named Desire (1951, Elia Kazan)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing:</strong> #356<br /><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001415/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Elia Kazan</span></a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0931783/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Tennessee Williams</span></a> (play & screenplay), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0766665/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Oscar Saul</span></a> (adaptation)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000046/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000046/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Vivien Leigh</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0000008/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000008/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Marlon Brando</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001375/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001375/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Kim Hunter</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0001500/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001500/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Karl Malden</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0094036/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0094036/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Rudy Bond</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0219528/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0219528/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Nick Dennis</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-7/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0384976/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0384976/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Peg Hillias</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-8/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0455389/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0455389/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Wright King</span></a></div><br /><div>Elia Kazan was noted during the 1940s as one of America's most creative stage directors, and yet he'd also proved his film-making prowess on such films as the film noir thriller <em>Panic in the Streets (1950)</em>. Naturally, he was a prime choice to adapt Tennessee Williams' acclaimed 1947 play "A Streetcar Named Desire" for the screen. Eschewing the naturalistic visual style of his previous film, Kazan unashamedly directs <em>A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)</em> as a filmed play, utilising a small, intimate cast and few sets. The film's success spawned a number of Tennessee Williams adaptations, including <em>Baby Doll (1956)</em> and <em>Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)</em>, the first of which was directed by Kazan. <em>A Streetcar Named Desire</em> also launched the successful Hollywood career of one of the all-time great actors, Marlon Brando, whose mesmerising performance as Stanley Kowalski (and especially his inimitable cry of "Stella!" at the foot of the apartment stairway) continues to resonate even with those who have never seen the film in its entirety.<br /><br /></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354907152639747586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf-wjlh9GTePxSJNE1K_RkA2wMGi4yAQrxhyX3blP7ykMhwGV-956NxoQSilGOraGqT5Jde_THe08J5aWf_pXhByBTYP7xigGy_WABlgDNK3gZ6zdUN3TX3CjaVZfac5cmv9BGN9BQkOg/s320/PDVD_002.BMP" border="0" />Blanche DuBois is an intriguing character because she is a tragic victim despite bringing much of her fate upon herself. Having shamed herself in scandal following the loss of her family home, Blanche arrives in New Orleans in complete denial of her moral failings. While desperately maintaining a facade of upper-class respectability, Blanche continually speaks of her brother-in-law Stanley with utter condescension, deriding his Polish heritage and working-class habits. Only by disparaging others can she sustain her self-enforced illusion of lingering youth and grandeur, and yet every attempt at remaining young ironically makes her seem as old as Norma Desmond. But Stanley is also a brute, exuding primitive cruelty and sexuality through every sweaty pore. Had he understood Blanche's psychological condition, and offered kindness instead of resistance, her breakdown might have been averted. Stanley's pig-headed selfishness is despicable, and yet – like Blanche – his behaviour seems to arise not from deliberate cruelty, but from child-like naiveté, an obliviousness towards the consequences of his actions.<br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354907163690236946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqfAZUGjVZ2fC9LhuKpOGrM9_4r0kR2XOoQI__0wZIaKZmvy8Vh_ww4E-r-fLkqV23yvI1nj7n7VtdDGAZ7Ors4tgaJFrxfB-jel3EHEGCLEtl1d_tR00fh3raNqX0DdNEetF3PuaE0g/s320/PDVD_003.BMP" border="0" />There's no doubt that <em>A Streetcar Named Desire</em> finds its performers at the peak of their work, but, even so, I consider it a minor miracle that such contrasting acting styles were able to coexist so comfortably. Though Marlon Brando had previously performed the role on Broadway to great acclaim, the studio-appointed casting of Vivien Leigh provoked some consternation among the crew, who feared a clash of "classical" and "method" acting styles. Leigh, speaking with a Southern accent that is, I think, inherently theatrical, accentuates every twitch of insecurity in the emotionally-decaying Blanche DuBois. Brando, on the other hand, was a student of Lee Strasberg at the Actors' Studio, an influential proponent of method acting, and his Stanley Kowalski speaks in an often- incomprehensible drawl that works precisely because you can imagine hundreds of uneducated New Orleans workers speaking in the same manner. The gamble on Leigh proved successful, with she and co-stars Karl Malden and Kim Hunter taking home Oscars for their fine work; Brando lost out to Bogart in <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/10/repeat-viewing-african-queen-1951-john.html">The African Queen (1951)</a></em>.<br /><div><strong>8/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #4 film of 1951:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Strangers On A Train</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />2) <strong><em>The African Queen</em></strong> (John Huston)<br />3) <strong><em>The Man in the White Suit</em></strong> (Alexander Mackendrick)<br />4) <strong><em>A Streetcar Named Desire</em></strong> (Elia Kazan)<br />5) <strong><em>The Lavender Hill Mob</em></strong> (Charles Crichton)<br />6) <strong><em>The Day The Earth Stood Still</em></strong> (Robert Wise)<br />7) <strong><em>The Thing from Another World</em></strong> (Christian Nyby, Howard Hawks)<br />8) <strong><em>An American in Paris</em></strong> (Vincente Minnelli)<br />9) <strong><em>Royal Wedding</em></strong> (Stanley Donen)<br />10) <strong><em>Roadblock</em></strong> (Harold Daniels)</div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-39507266245459449882009-07-05T02:07:00.000-07:002009-07-05T02:19:55.209-07:00Target #274: Ashes and Diamonds (1958, Andrzej Wajda)<strong><em>TSPDT </em>placing:</strong> #118<br /><div><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/directorlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=name/nm0906667/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0906667/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Andrzej Wajda</span></a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0029156/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Jerzy Andrzejewski</span></a> (novel & screenplay), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0906667/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Andrzej Wajda</span></a><span style="color:#3333ff;"> </span>(writer)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0194193/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0194193/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Zbigniew Cybulski</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-2/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0473109/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0473109/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Ewa Krzyzewska</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-3/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0953664/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0953664/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Waclaw Zastrzezynski</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-4/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0668044/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0668044/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Adam Pawlikowski</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-6/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0162118/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0162118/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Jan Ciecierski</span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">, </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-5/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0462138/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0462138/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Bogumil Kobiela</span></a><br /><br /><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!</strong><br /></div><div><br />During WWII, two ideologically-opposed factions, the London-directed Home Army and the pro-Soviet People's Army, joined forces to defeat a common enemy, the Nazis. When the war came to an end in May 1945, however, so too did the groups' shaky alliance, and from momentary peace was suddenly sprung a whole new struggle for power. While a new Communist regime began to build its foundations in the shell-shocked Polish cities, the remaining Home Army rebels took to the forests, where they dutifully continued their liberation campaign using guerrilla tactics. If WWII itself is considered necessary – or, if not necessary, then at least justified given the Nazi menace – then this post-War skirmish is the ultimate waste of life, prompting murder on the grounds of mere ideology. In Andrzej Wajda's <em>Ashes and Diamonds (1958)</em>, a weary Home Army youth, Maciek (Zbigniew Cybulski), faces an internal conflict between fighting political causes and living a normal life, not coincidentally the same dilemma facing the nation of Poland as the War came to a close.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354902281973274194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9WsnO8wbGcA6Q4BHLr8GEh-bTYqOUgprlPlsua3Lh6BSFFV8iKxBmQ9rIyvGEeIww2cOtYJGFsgbGCxYl4uXoUch_PekiT4KR2gK9C_HKS5o-mQKWra04jvQSfJwZTiMR9g5Puu5l0y8/s320/snapshot20090701231451.bmp" border="0" />Wajda's film opens with an cold-blooded ambush, in which two concrete factory workers are needlessly gunned down in a case of mistaken identity. These shootings take place at the front steps of a country chapel, and with a child within earshot, highlighting the heartless resolve with which the Home Army rebels carry out their murders. However, despite the pro-Communist climate in which Wajda produced his film, he stops well short of demonising the "enemy" rebels, and, indeed, young Maciek is portrayed as the tragic victim of the story. In fact, the film goes to some length to emphasise the parallels between Maciek and Communist leader Szczuka (Waclaw Zastrzezynski), implying the needlessness of their conflict, and so the tragedy of their fatal opposition: both men fought valiantly against fascist dictatorships (the former in both Spain and Poland), and remember fondly the war comrades who died in pursuit of an ideal that, to both, should now be deemed realised. Instead, Szczuka dies in Maciek's arms as Poland celebrates its liberation.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354901879851510802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyn79DrBnQiVQXisz-cyrByvSdUcgJ_X_wWeeNF80MKPOcueOTUkdmsFxaTKo26vpDbcf750xadhEzWi1j5VInR7TCYKWOUdQ1rMcP5ga3hDtABHRIcwC9UNU1ijKGC3WhvDbjzalx60Y/s320/snapshot20090701223244.bmp" border="0" />Polish cinema reached its peak in the late 1950s, following the Khrushchev Thaw that saw an ease in Soviet censorship, and Andrzej Wajda was at the forefront of this cinematic New Wave. Jerzy Wójcik's stark black-and-white cinematography is elaborate and beautifully-executed, capturing the main character's claustrophobic isolation using closed sets and a cramped frame. The war itself took many prisoners, but Maciek – ironically a "freedom fighter" – finds his freedom restrained in a less overt manner. Even with the liberation of Poland, Maciek is obligated to continue his blood feud, denied the ordinary happiness offered by a life with pretty bar-maid Krystyna (Ewa Krzyzewska), with whom he spends a night. Cybulski's character squanders most of the film in boisterous, overcrowded surroundings, finding room to move only in fractured moments, such as a late-night stroll through the crumbling town ruins. Even in his death throes, Maciek stumbles through a cluttered wasteland of garbage, ultimately joining the detritus of the twentieth century's most costly conflict.<br /><div><strong>7/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #5 film of 1958:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Vertigo</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />2) <strong><em>A Night to Remember</em></strong> (Roy Ward Baker)<br />3) <strong><em>Touch of Evil</em></strong> (Orson Welles)<br />4) <strong><em>Look Back in Anger</em></strong> (Tony Richardson)<br />5) <strong><em>Popiól i diament {Ashes and Diamonds}</em></strong> (Andrzej Wajda)<br />6) <strong><em>Cat on a Hot Tin Roof</em></strong> (Richard Brooks)<br />7) <strong><em>The Fly</em></strong> (Kurt Neumann)</div></div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-71033849519161430352009-06-29T07:34:00.000-07:002009-06-29T08:02:24.193-07:00Target #273: The Red Shoes (1948, Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing:</strong> #128<br /><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0003836/">Michael Powell</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0696247/">Emeric Pressburger</a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0026153/">Hans Christian Andersen</a> (fairy-tale), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0696247/">Emeric Pressburger</a> (original screenplay, written by), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0003836/">Michael Powell</a> (written by), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0935773/">Keith Winter</a> (additional dialogue)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-1/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0330961/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0330961/">Marius Goring</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-7/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0906932/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0906932/">Anton Walbrook</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-12/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0790452/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0790452/">Moira Shearer</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-8/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0872454/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0872454/">Austin Trevor</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-16/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0060168/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0060168/">Albert Bassermann</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" onclick="(new Image()).src='/rg/castlist/position-13/images/b.gif?link=/name/nm0853481/';" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0853481/">Ludmilla Tchérina</a></div><br /><div><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!</strong> <em>[Paragraph 2 only]</em></div><br /><div>Aside from a few compulsory school-related occasions upon which I look back with the utmost antipathy, I've never danced in my life. I've never wanted to, and I plan to hold firm at least until the day of my wedding. As late as last year, I regarded ballet as among the least interesting forms of dance, my assertion based not on experience, but mere conjecture. Then I saw Norman McLaren's extraordinary short film <em>Pas de deux (1968)</em>, in which an optical printer is used to demonstrate how the dancers' movements transcend space and time, the majesty of human motion revealed in every gentle, graceful spin. Suddenly, inexplicably, I saw beauty where I'd never seen it before. I consider <em>The Red Shoes (1948)</em> the affirmation of this revelation. The child of writing/directing team Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, under the banner of The Archers, the film showcases the pair's talent for imbuing their work with lush colours, warmth and personality, displaying a faculty for capturing atmosphere that is unmatched then or since.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352764495270575730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlMv9LLZEJxHJQA5k8696obr_yFEs5FASc-AebhufW4nO2Oo0c6sw4h2Mo3w1v9GryaZspvWccWFN85g6Epe5m8M2H0HFtHY4vEt9Vj8Dkw3Zn3QubD6QcnZugXi_M2_WlFDW5c0qodYU/s320/PDVD_001.BMP" border="0" /><em>The Red Shoes</em> revolves around the production of a stage adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen's eponymous fairy-tale, in which a ballet dancer receives a pair of cursed red shoes that keep her dancing until the day she dies. However, rather than being a simple story of success in show- business, the behind-the-scenes events are themselves a loose variation on Andersen's fairy-tale. When asked what she wants from life, young British ballerina Victoria Page (Moira Shearer) replies, "I want to dance." Just as Mephisto offered Faust everything he wanted at the cost of everything he held dear, Boris Lermontov (Anton Walbrook, of <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/04/target-269-life-and-death-of-colonel.html">The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943)</a></em>) offers Victoria immortality in the art of ballet, but at the expense of life, love and happiness. Finally, torn between her two great loves – to her husband Julian (Marius Goring), and to ballet – she chooses to abandon both, throwing herself in front of a train as though compelled to do so by the red dancing shoes that had so overwhelmingly commanded her life.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352764491725586930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjey8VpQgw_ekTLRf1mqsyZX4gSDTZ0pQZ6aI1VBEO3pFNDEJEPknvArbJa1taeQ4nTreJ59d47h4jna6IfEjFOcBxMKvM_4lKWntcSe55gYdt114y-YS_Uy6npO2uJnsJcTG1jZPNyPSA/s320/PDVD_000.BMP" border="0" />As in most Powell/Pressburger collaborations, it's not adequate to merely praise the co-directors. Hein Heckroth's costumes, Arthur Lawson's art direction, Jack Cardiff's lush cinematography, Brian Easdale's musical score; all are utterly masterful, the fruits of a alliance in which every crew member understood perfectly what was required of them. The film's incredible centrepiece is a twenty- minute balletic interlude in which the audience is shown the stage production itself, perhaps the most breathtaking and purely cinematic musical sequence I've ever seen. As Victoria Page is swept up in the fantasy of her role, she is inundated by surreal visions of Faustian tragedy and horror that deliberately recall F.W. Murnau's 1926 film. In Hollywood, <em>The Red Shoes</em> proved hugely influential, noticeably inspiring the likes of Stanley Donen and Vincente Minnelli: <em>An American in Paris (1951)</em> featured a similar, if not so comfortably integrated, ballet interlude, and <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/03/target-262-band-wagon-1953-vincente.html">The Band Wagon (1953)</a></em> feels like a sunny feature-length rebuttal to the tragedy inherent in The Archers' film.<br /><div><strong>8/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #5 film of 1948:</div><div>1) <strong><em>The Treasure of the Sierra Madre</em></strong> (John Huston)<br />2) <strong><em>Ladri di biciclette {The Bicycle Thief}</em></strong> (Vittorio De Sicae)<br />3) <strong><em>Rope</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />4) <strong><em>Oliver Twist</em></strong> (David Lean)<br />5) <strong><em>The Red Shoes</em></strong> (Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger)<br />6) <strong><em>Macbeth</em></strong> (Orson Welles)<br />7) <strong><em>Key Largo</em></strong> (John Huston)<br />8) <strong><em>Letter from an Unknown Woman</em></strong> (Max Ophüls)<br />9) <strong><em>Secret Beyond the Door…</em></strong> (Fritz Lang)<br />10) <strong><em>Musik i mörker {Music in Darkness}</em></strong> (Ingmar Bergman)</div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-31075981313533627712009-06-05T17:20:00.000-07:002009-06-05T17:48:11.479-07:00Target #272: Seventh Heaven (1927, Frank Borzage)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing: </strong>#913<br /><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0097648/">Frank Borzage</a><strong></strong><br /><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0834944/">Austin Strong</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0322227/">Benjamin Glazer</a> (screenplay), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0129721/">H.H. Caldwell</a> (titles), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0385012/">Katherine Hilliker</a> (titles), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0615868/">Bernard Vorhaus</a><strong></strong><br /><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0310980/">Janet Gaynor</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0268190/">Charles Farrell</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0054135/">Ben Bard</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0334581/">Albert Gran</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0124877/">David Butler</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0608893/">Marie Mosquini</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0831889/">George E. Stone</a><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!</strong> <em>[Paragraph 3 only]</em><br /><br /><em>Seventh Heaven (1927)</em> is usually compared to <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/06/target-213-sunrise-song-of-two-humans.html">Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927)</a></em>, and not without reason. Director Frank Borzage has a keen sense for lighting and shot composition, perhaps not as effortlessly graceful as that of Murnau, but the film superbly explores three-dimensional space, most memorably in a vertical long take that follows the characters up seven floors of staircases, and a backwards tracking shot through the crowded trenches of a battlefield. Janet Gaynor, who also starred in <em>Sunrise</em>, is once again a perfect picture of fragility and helplessness, a persona at which she was bettered only by Lillian Gish. More interesting, however, is that Gaynor's character undergoes a startling character arc, developing from a weak, embattled victim – a trampled flower – to a decisive and assertive woman, a member of the workforce, and an independent but devoted wife. Her husband, played by Charles Farrell, likewise undergoes a transformation, of the spiritual kind. Together, they share a love so definitive that the formula has since become familiar, but Borzage keeps it fresh.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344007078819046210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3RN5uD2BMYkMM1Qqy20PNet5RgowsRr6-_63nDa8ae2936aEY1fdKxi7L7TbCJsNydFmDuWHmp-QAKt6ti_aKAqXcRejARMPtxw-caVuYCwr1eu6j38A2nxRdEq6iLCqi_VLzeIYSoh0/s320/vlcsnap-680768.png" border="0" />Perhaps the greatest miracle about <em>Seventh Heaven</em> is that the romance works at all. Farrell's Chico is a haughty, athletic sewer worker, so determined of his own worth that he bores his grotesque colleagues with anecdotes of his future greatness. Gaynor's Diane, a small creature routinely lashed by her sleazy sister, is at first an object of derision for Chico, who uses her mere existence to affirm his atheism. Indeed, so aloof is his attitude towards her that I could scarcely believe that the pair were to fall in love, but the transition is carried out gradually and convincingly. As in most great romances, the two star-crossed lovers are swiftly separated by the onset of war. Here, once again, Borzage's keen eye for visual storytelling results in some wonderful sequences of conflict, with his portrayal of the battlefield perhaps serving as inspiration for Lewis Milestone's war drama <em>All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)</em>. Only with the occasional moments of misplaced comedy – the ritualistic bowing of the street-sweepers, for example – does the director fumble with the film's mood.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344007077754375666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFIgFNduHSBz3BsIUlw5KNiAvAWqZ91RuQ1jXHL8z-3wnnmmKtLNLKUTXqRSTzcnPDhYlhiGznz1cYz38DEJV6MlYi7Dn2dlpRo2udI4t5bCKKVjBJhu-1nBxOpzz3eXfCGiS5T43VxAE/s320/vlcsnap-682594.png" border="0" />This reviewer being an atheist, films dealing with a central religious theme face an uphill battle. Chico opens the film not unlike myself, as an obstinate atheist who curses God for failing to answer his prayers. Christianity intercedes through a kind-hearted priest, who offers Chico his dream-job as a street-sweeper, as well as two religious necklaces. Predictably, our hero is converted by the film's end, and, indeed, stages a resurrection that borders on Biblical. This "miraculous" ending could easily have had me rolling my eyes, but – somehow, and against all odds – it didn't. Borzage doesn't play Chico's survival as a startling revelation, and nor does it feel tacked-on, as does the fate of Murnau's hotel doorman in <em>The Last Laugh (1924)</em>. Alongside Diane's stubborn insistence that her husband is still alive, to actually see him pushing through the crowds seemed like the most natural thing in the world. And even if Chico is dead, then his wife is already there in Heaven, on the seventh floor, waiting to greet him.<br /><strong>7.5/10</strong><br /><br />Currently my #4 film of 1927:<br />1) <strong><em>Metropolis</em></strong> (Fritz Lang)<br />2) <strong><em>Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans</em></strong> (F.W. Murnau)<br />3) <strong><em>The General</em></strong> (Clyde Bruckman, Buster Keaton)<br />4) <strong><em>7th Heaven</em></strong> (Frank Borzage)<br />5) <strong><em>College</em></strong> (James W. Horne, Buster Keaton)<br />6) <strong><em>The Lodger</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-41915360573979023532009-05-14T02:23:00.000-07:002009-05-14T02:44:10.120-07:00Target #271: French Cancan (1954, Jean Renoir)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing: </strong>#426<br /><div><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0719756/">Jean Renoir</a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0031135/">André-Paul Antoine</a> (idea), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0719756/">Jean Renoir</a> (adaptation)</div><div><strong>Starring: </strong><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0300064/">Jean Gabin</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0036734/">Françoise Arnoul</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0299661/">María Félix</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0024577/">Anna Amendola</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0146613/">Jean-Roger Caussimon</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0231098/">Dora Doll</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0261161/">Giani Esposito</a></div><div></div><div><br /><strong>A NOTE TO THE READER:</strong> <em>This post is to rectify a previous omission. I originally watched</em> French Cancan <em>on January 14, 2009, but was unaware that it was on the TSPDT list. Thus, my statement that "I haven't yet been completely blown away by a Jean Renoir film" neglects my later review of</em> <a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/02/target-258-grand-illusion-1937-jean.html">The Grand Illusion (1937)</a>. </div><br /><div>I haven't yet been completely blown away by a Jean Renoir film. The closest candidate so far was the wonderful <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/12/tspdt-placing-147-directed-by-jean.html">A Day in the Country (1936)</a></em>, which unfortunately suffered the handicap of being unfinished. Even so, I find the director's films to be extraordinarily pleasant viewing, and I'd much sooner sit down for a Renoir than I would for, say, a Godard or Fellini film. <em>French Cancan (1954)</em> is a completely pleasant, and entirely unpretentious, musical comedy that goes by so breezily that you're apt to forget that you're watching the work of France's most respected filmmaker. Less concerned with cultural satire than <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/11/target-239-la-rgle-du-jeu-rules-of-game.html">The Rules of the Game (1939)</a></em>, the film is instead similar in tone to <em>Elena and Her Men (1956)</em>, a completely inconsequential piece of cinema that is nonetheless a lot of fun to watch. Both of these films were shot in exquisite Technicolor, of which Renoir takes full advantage, filling the frame with glorious costumes, colours and people.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335610209425958082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVj2Cktkq2whZ7IcyREbPR9pY16Jsa9t39CQorg8QBpJNzWvR_Yq51Ka4OuAGT4fjhKn_C_8d390H4JJRcJhyWbGswWwhnf0vyFAyHevl8D8aZDTx8S46cvGQ9aQXOGocwar-28HaMAs/s400/CanCan.jpg" border="0" />Henri Danglard (Jean Gabin) is a respected theatre producer who lives the high life, despite relying upon financial backers to sustain his extravagant lifestyle. A charming chap, and convincingly debonair given his age, Danglard shares the company of the beautiful but temperamental Lola de Castro (María Félix), into whose bed many have attempted to climb (and probably with little resistance). When Danglard woos a pretty young laundry-worker, Nini (Françoise Arnoul), into dancing the cancan for him, Lola is overrun with jealousy, and all sorts of anarchy takes place amidst this romantic rivalry. Meanwhile, a handsome European prince (Giani Esposito) offers Nini his hand in marriage, but she's not willing to make such a dishonest commitment, more inclined to stay with Danglard, who inevitably plots to discard her as soon as his next promising starlet comes along. Jean Gabin, who had previously worked with Renoir in the 1930s, is terrific in the main role, overcoming his mature age to succeed as a potential lover.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335609812277468706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DAt2KsmApM99lVBqdT6121-ZZ8U3HZ31_O3QZzh3IyJUOE_SoFXD62sdpZ0hDQbIHEuyFBtt4F_7n6lBDFYTX9hBzbMT8hv8Umy_bF2_Dsnu_awkVsskSxE5WVWiCY2oUyXSnBAjx6g/s320/CanCan+2.jpg" border="0" /> It's interesting to compare Hollywood films of the 1950s with their European counterparts. Thanks to the Production Code, most American romantic comedies kept the romance almost entirely platonic, whereas here Renoir's characters speak of sex and adultery as though it is a perfectly acceptable practice. Even the adorable Françoise Arnoul, who occasionally reminded me of Shirley MacLaine, is treated as an openly sexual women, and not just because her character specialises in a dance designed purely to display as much leg as possible. Like many of Renoir's films, the characters themselves aren't clearly defined, and so it's difficult to form an emotional attachment. Indeed, only in the final act does Danglard come clean with the extent to which he romantically exploits his dance recruits, though even this moment is overshadowed by the premiere show of the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps it is through his caricatures that Renoir is making a quip about bourgeois French society – that they're all hiding behind fallacious identities and intentions. Or am I looking too far into this quaint musical comedy?<br /><div><strong>6/10</strong><br /><br /></div><div><strong></strong></div><div>Currently my #8 film of 1954:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Rear Window</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />2) <strong><em>Animal Farm</em></strong> (Joy Batchelor, John Halas)<br />3) <strong><em>Dial M for Murder</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />4) <strong><em>Viaggio in Italia {Voyage in Italy}</em></strong> (Roberto Rossellini)<br />5) <strong><em>Sabrina</em></strong> (Billy Wilder)<br />6) <strong><em>The Glenn Miller Story</em></strong> (Anthony Mann)<br />7) <strong><em>The Maggie</em></strong> (Alexander Mackendrick)<br />8) <strong><em>French Cancan</em></strong> (Jean Renoir)<br />9) <strong><em>The Caine Mutiny</em></strong> (Edward Dmytryk)</div></div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-6124016489259978902009-05-12T04:17:00.000-07:002009-05-12T04:30:52.646-07:00Target #270: Bonnie and Clyde (1967, Arthur Penn)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing:</strong> #137<br /><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0671957/">Arthur Penn</a><br /><strong>Written by:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0628058/">David Newman</a> (written by), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000914/">Robert Benton</a> (written by), <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001801/">Robert Towne</a> (uncredited)<br /><strong>Starring:</strong> <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000886/">Warren Beatty</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0001159/">Faye Dunaway</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0689488/">Michael J. Pollard</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000432/">Gene Hackman</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(128,0,128)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0663820/">Estelle Parsons</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0701500/">Denver Pyle</a>, <a style="COLOR: rgb(0,51,153)" href="http://www.blogger.com/name/nm0000698/">Gene Wilder</a><br /><br /><div><div><div><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!</strong> <em>[Paragraph 3 only]</em></div><br /><div>In 1967, two films ushered in a new wave of Hollywood film. Mike Nichol's <em>The Graduate (1967)</em> introduced casual sexuality into the mix, with young graduate Dustin Hoffman enjoying a tryst with Anne Bancroft's Mrs. Robinson, highlighting the vast generation gap between the Baby Boomers and their parents. Arthur Penn's <em>Bonnie and Clyde (1967)</em>, likewise, pushed the boundaries of what was acceptable to show in film, featuring glorious set-pieces of violence that would influence the later work of Sam Peckinpah and Martin Scorsese. This new brand of authentic yet stylised brutality may have been borrowed from Spaghetti Western director Sergio Leone, whose own "Dollars" trilogy had proved successful with American audiences {his Hollywood-funded follow-up, <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/02/target-259-once-upon-time-in-west-1968.html">Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)</a></em>, was a magnificent film, but noticeably toned down the violence}. Many reviewers were initially indifferent to Penn's picture, and Warner Brothers had little faith in its financial prospects, but the support of critics like Pauline Kael prompted a swift reevaluation, and <em>Bonnie and Clyde</em> was soon a box-office hit.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334897173989454866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiul7Ce07eIMmYbWBG4aTtHq9Xq4CohPuoQX6_Ca_SYhjZu86Ax6cEy1oJKG29IhyphenhyphenWOZs2Tea7t3PVEuiH0vgXnwWy4-UMJm24fhfsfPRYRvMOLwyIRlts8kAPy9KRY92tt3B0g0Or-WmM/s320/bonnie_and_clyde+2.jpg" border="0" />Despite being set in the 1930s, and, of course, based on true events, Penn's retelling of the Bonnie and Clyde story overtly reflected the revolutionary cultural times in which the film was made. The two titular fugitives symbolised the attitudes of the young people of the day – brash, impudent, dismissive of authority, and indifferent as to the consequences of their actions. Intriguingly, <em>Bonnie and Clyde</em> appears to suggest that something more than mere anarchistic tendencies fuelled the pair's violent escapades. Clyde Barrow (Warren Beatty) is portrayed as sexually impotent, and a lengthy, uncomfortable would-be sex scene emphasises the self-loathing frustration that, perhaps, fuelled his personal inadequacy and prompted him to seek other, more destructive means of alleviating his stress and exhibiting his masculinity. Bonnie Parker (Faye Dunaway) is depicted as a young woman whose sexual repression at the hands of a well-meaning but morally-uptight mother has stifled her femininity, and only through societal rebellion does she appear to regain her sense of identity. This theme ties in nicely with the Women's Liberation of the 1960s.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334897341410260930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi28ZpDHLjBcCTkYOQzPWRFMozxzBDFz2K10UALhXmgPWNAmT7kxWy7v-7KcRO9xDTDVhxHzYk9BwkgnLT20TZWqxZwwfRbVoUMkWMLIYZSEFEwetfSGToPAtXy31HwD39smB_kWg9YQpk/s400/bonnie%2520and%2520clyde%2520se%2520PDVD_009.jpg" border="0" />Beatty and Dunaway are perfect in the two leading roles, displaying enough charisma and sex appeal to come across as likable, but also inspiring sympathy and disapproval for their clearly irresponsible and reprehensible behaviour (the film initially provoked controversy for its perceived "glorification" of criminals, but, though the audience's empathy is recruited to some extent, the destructive and inevitable consequences of the gang's actions are hardly glossed over). The famous, gruesome climax – in which Bonnie and Clyde are apathetically gunned down in a bloody police ambush – was perhaps the most intense minute of cinema American audiences had ever experienced. Of course, once the floodgates were opened, New Hollywood began to adopt his fresh, powerful frankness in its storytelling. Sam Peckinpah, no doubt inspired by Penn's efforts, decisively raised the bar with his Revisionist Western <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/04/target-267-wild-bunch-1969-sam.html">The Wild Bunch (1969)</a></em>. A landmark American film, <em>Bonnie and Clyde</em> furthered the reputations of both its director and star Warren Beatty, and successfully launched the acting careers of Faye Dunaway, Gene Hackman and Gene Wilder.<br /><div><strong>8/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #4 film of 1967:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Voyna i mir {War and Peace}</em></strong> (Sergei Bondarchuk)<br />2) <strong><em>The Graduate</em></strong> (Mike Nichols)<br />3) <strong><em>In the Heat of the Night</em></strong> (Norman Jewison)<br />4) <strong><em>Bonnie and Clyde</em></strong> (Arthur Penn)<br />5) <strong><em>Cool Hand Luke</em></strong> (Stuart Rosenberg)</div></div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-61584337135195323832009-04-25T23:36:00.000-07:002009-04-26T01:26:21.935-07:00Target #269: The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943, Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger)<strong><em>TSPDT </em>placing: #</strong>147 <div><div><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0003836/">Michael Powell</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0696247/">Emeric Pressburger</a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0003836/">Michael Powell</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0696247/">Emeric Pressburger</a></div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0515193/">Roger Livesey</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000039/">Deborah Kerr</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0906932/">Anton Walbrook</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0191745/">Roland Culver</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0571129/">James McKechnie</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0509776/">Albert Lieven</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0939454/">Arthur Wontner</a><br /><br /></div><div><strong></strong></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328911394108423922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPC9BpRa4y0IGM7qOWwxoRGwGwo5EGyDFFLNiGaWcLWcfgYsaLlAnkLIqPktAC7MzyHTQm7rhRZzi8xnBjSnN19isjbXw7YloK0a6AtMtq6CuYit8cKTYS9ITogaMFTh83p4VxxAcbdo/s400/Untitled.jpg" border="0" /><em>The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943)</em> was produced at the height of World War Two, and that such an illustrious Technicolor production was completed amid both nightly London bombings and the opposition of Prime Minister Winston Churchill is a testament to the consummate professionalism of The Archers, producer/writer/director team Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. Certainly one of the more magnificent British productions of the 1940s, the film starred Roger Livesey as Clive Wynne-Candy, an illustrious veteran who with the onset of WWII, to his dismay, finds himself ignored by those who should be respecting his military experience rather than dismissing it. Livesey (a replacement for Laurence Olivier) plays Wynne-Candy in three stages of his life, authentically and sympathetically tracing his fluctuating disillusionment with "honourable warfare" through years of hard-earned living. The portrayal sidles a delicate line between geniality and parody, and as a lifetime-spanning dramatic performance, it's easily on par with Robert Donat in <em>Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939)</em> and Orson Welles in <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/11/repeat-viewing-citizen-kane-1941-orson.html">Citizen Kane (1941)</a>.</em><br /><br /><div>The film's title was borrowed from a comic strip by David Low, in which the titular Colonel Blimp was presented as dim-witted British reactionary, a bloated old man with a walrus moustache who issued absurd political commands from the comfort of a Turkish Bath – "Gad, sir," he once says, "we must have a bigger Army to protect the Navy, and a bigger Navy to protect the Army." As a political candidate, Low's Colonel Blimp proposes "shooting down politicians and establishing a Dictatorship of colonels to safeguard democracy." Contradictory and anachronistic, a symbol of both jingoism and complacency, the character epitomised Low's dissatisfaction with contemporary British politics. Powell and Pressburger's version of Colonel Blimp is substantially more sympathetic, tracing in flashback the leading character's transformation from a young, impetuous Boer War soldier to a pot-bellied veteran with an outmoded belief system. As the times changed, our Colonel Blimp didn't. But a new World War demands a new set of rules, and if Britain is to survive she must embrace the dishonourable tactics of her enemy.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wZ_zejOZUUCVKlH95EzxTxTvBHBp6sJeGNK-J2YeZ-lbGBCvRZnj282dZ6B5o83h-5PqyE14XBrpPBIctGgc7NVYZfJImXgCJzNsPAypS2CYUxZ7hPluIK_y1qc31ElAA6MhMTYCr_8/s1600-h/Blimp1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328911568781522370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wZ_zejOZUUCVKlH95EzxTxTvBHBp6sJeGNK-J2YeZ-lbGBCvRZnj282dZ6B5o83h-5PqyE14XBrpPBIctGgc7NVYZfJImXgCJzNsPAypS2CYUxZ7hPluIK_y1qc31ElAA6MhMTYCr_8/s320/Blimp1.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyFY570GDpmAyxY8rpnvj-VA6DdQpwYEXrb9DzCnEdZVPfOeh6VL_WExkRcgkKS9zSnfeyDvQO9i0BKjmmR1lD48UlQlfXKePcS6VpGnOKyM6obrcgYYOmyvfVaqBgDMQMY8TnXK9PbE/s1600-h/Blimp2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328911744611668834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyFY570GDpmAyxY8rpnvj-VA6DdQpwYEXrb9DzCnEdZVPfOeh6VL_WExkRcgkKS9zSnfeyDvQO9i0BKjmmR1lD48UlQlfXKePcS6VpGnOKyM6obrcgYYOmyvfVaqBgDMQMY8TnXK9PbE/s320/Blimp2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>I originally decided to watch <em>The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp</em> as a tribute to the recently-deceased cinematographer Jack Cardiff, but I apparently got the film confused with a later Powell and Pressburger production, <em>A Matter of Life and Death (1946)</em>. Cardiff did, indeed, serve as a camera operator in 'Colonel Blimp,' but the praise for the film's breathtaking Technicolor photography must go to Georges Perinal, who captures and savours every vibrant hue, transforming each frame into a vivid cinematic canvas. If for no other reason, then the decision to shoot in Technicolor was worthwhile for capturing the stunning green eyes and red hair of Deborah Kerr in her first major role. As Clive Candy's "romantic ideal," to which all other women in his life must aspire, Kerr demonstrates such beauty, elegance and independence that you just about want to marry her – not once, but three times. Antony Walbrook also does an excellent job as the impressively-named Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff, Candy's German duelling opponent and later best friend.</div><br /><div>Powell and Pressburger, to their credit, didn't deal in stereotypes. Even in propaganda pieces like <em>49th Parallel (1941)</em>, the enemy Germans were portrayed as ordinary humans, with their own hopes and ambitions. Likewise in 'Colonel Blimp,' the character of Kretschmar-Schuldorff is inherently good, despite his occasional disenchantment towards the "winning" side. Note, for example, how readily Candy and his adversary reconcile their differences in the Berlin nursing-home, not with violence – as was forced upon them by their respective nations – but through mutual understanding; its with some irony that the filmmakers satirise how easily individuals, but not countries, can reach a satisfactory compromise. The manner in which Powell and Pressburger goodnaturedly (and even nostalgically) poke fun at the stuffy ceremonial formality of traditional warfare reminded me of the exploits of fictional French patriot Brigadier Ettiene Gerard. Pressburger must certainly have been aware of the stories, since he worked in a reference to Arthur Conan Doyle {and while we're on the topic, watch out for Arthur Wontner and Ian Fleming, who had previously played Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson, respectively}.</div><div><strong>9/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #1 film of 1943:</div><div>1) <strong><em>The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp</em></strong> (Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger)<br />2) <strong><em>Five Graves to Cairo</em></strong> (Billy Wilder)<br />3) <strong><em>Shadow of a Doubt</em></strong> (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />4) <strong><em>Sherlock Holmes Faces Death</em></strong> (Roy William Neill)<br />5) <strong><em>This Land is Mine</em></strong> (Jean Renoir)<br />6) <strong><em>Journey into Fear</em></strong> (Norman Foster)<br />7) <strong><em>The Seventh Victim</em></strong> (Mark Robson)<br />8) <strong><em>Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon</em></strong> (Roy William Neill)<br />9) <strong><em>Hitler’s Children</em></strong> (Edward Dmytryk, Irving Reis)</div></div></div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-30635123961706899882009-04-12T01:14:00.000-07:002009-04-12T01:22:20.643-07:00Target #268: Cat People (1942, Jacques Tourneur)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing: </strong>#471<br /><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0869664/">Jacques Tourneur</a></div><div><strong>Written by: </strong><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0090840/">DeWitt Bodeen</a></div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0800386/">Simone Simon</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0808949/">Kent Smith</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0007218/">Tom Conway</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0709905/">Jane Randolph</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0392442/">Jack Holt</a></div><div><br /></div><div>In Vincente Minnelli's <em>The Bad and the Beautiful (1952)</em>, Hollywood producer Jonathan Shields (Kirk Douglas) brainstorms ideas for the latest B-movie horror project to fall into his lap. Unhappy with the feline costumes they'd been testing, he proposes not showing the titular "cat-men" at all: "And why? Because the dark has a life of its own. In the dark, all sorts of things come alive." Shields was obviously referencing Jacques Tourneur's <em>Cat People (1942)</em>, the brainchild of legendary horror producer Val Lewton, who made B-movies so professionally-crafted that to call them B-movies would be to do them a disservice. My first Lewton film was <em>The Seventh Victim (1943)</em>, a clash of superb cinematography and a ridiculous plot, but fortunately <em>Cat People</em> has a more palatable storyline – though, of course, you'll still have to suspend disbelief on the odd occasion. If this film is a triumph, then it's a triumph of atmosphere, with Nicholas Musuraca (one of film noir's most accomplished cinematographers) prolonging the intrigue and suspense through his masterful use of lighting and shadows.</div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323717133205233106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj41biDj_vLAM_M7fbqUQMRbUVI271u69WgL7Xn0v80fe4A5kTmj-SwR55VO7Q6EDQXRowooHOd1yDXnENhucT99F7sSX8Pk5V8RD-ooLu8UrVBPnAr7ZbKRdsEkS7gpTC2654sUCJKy20/s320/Cat+People.bmp" border="0" />When American Oliver Reed (Kent Smith) marries Serbian immigrant Irena Dubrovna (Simone Simon), he convinces himself that his wife's fear of intimacy is simply a remnant of her superstitious childhood. But Irena is adamant that she not consummate the marriage, for she fears that, due to a Satanic family curse, her sexual passion will force her into the form of a bloodthirsty panther. Irene constantly surrounds herself with feline imagery, is instinctively drawn to a captive zoo panther, and her fears swiftly become a psychological obsession that threaten to take her over. Oliver confides his concerns in attractive co-worker Alice Moore (Jane Randolph), who is biased by her love for him, and psychiatrist Dr. Louis Judd (Tom Conway, who oddly appeared in the same role in <em>The Seventh Victim</em>), who dismisses Irena's worries as mere insanity. The three supporting players give good performances, but Simone Simon is weak; she does display a certain exotic allure and a shy vulnerability, but her dialogue delivery is entirely unconvincing.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323717137096243778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhDRdNFgvwgw7K6_fr0QGLU2LrJK849jO0yVfItm26jVUanwYwrONlL_tsORXeIESlex3XSwhthi_gCqKVbuEtNFrgJD4FjsarRJX-isZLPwEZpMlDIeCS6Sof5yd2w0ae_vlf_Ng_I4/s320/CatPeople2.jpg" border="0" />Val Lewton originally instructed Tourneur to completely avoid showing the elusive panther, but RKO demanded more money-shots. Even so, Irena's feline form is on screen only for a few shots, and never in plain view. The filmmakers evidently understood that seeing nothing was infinitely more frightening than seeing a trained animal, and so the unknown – a shadow that lurks cunningly in the shadows – is exploited for maximum thrills. Lewton's initial insistence on not showing the panther, maintaining ambiguity on Irena's mental state, suggests that he had in mind something more than a simple "monster picture." Is this panther that plagues a shy, married woman's mind representative of something within ourselves – of suppressed jealousy, aggression and lust? Sex and violence have often blended together in mythology. Mafdet, the Ancient Egyptian goddess of justice and execution, possessed the head of a lioness; she was later replaced by Bast, whose image then changed to represent fertility and motherhood. In the same way, Irena's marital lust is intrinsically linked with her aggression, and abstinence alone will only temporarily quell her desires.<br /><div><strong>7/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #8 film of 1942:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Casablanca</em></strong> (Michael Curtiz)<br />2) <strong><em>To Be or Not to Be</em></strong> (Ernst Lubitsch)<br />3) <strong><em>This Gun for Hire</em></strong> (Frank Tuttle)<br />4) <strong><em>Holiday Inn</em></strong> (Mark Sandrich)<br />5) <strong><em>The Major and the Minor</em></strong> (Billy Wilder)<br />6) <strong><em>The Glass Key</em></strong> (Stuart Heisler)<br />7) <strong><em>The Magnificent Ambersons</em></strong> (Orson Welles)<br />8) <strong><em>Cat People</em></strong> (Jacques Tourneur)<br />9) <strong><em>Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror</em></strong> (John Rawlins)</div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-24734447121527457532009-04-11T01:53:00.000-07:002009-04-11T02:19:37.784-07:00Target #267: The Wild Bunch (1969, Sam Peckinpah)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing: </strong>#58<br /><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001603/">Sam Peckinpah</a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0796429/">Roy N. Sickner</a> (story), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0338396/">Walon Green</a> (story & screenplay), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001603/">Sam Peckinpah</a> (screenplay)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000034/">William Holden</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000308/">Ernest Borgnine</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0752813/">Robert Ryan</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0639529/">Edmond O'Brien</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0643105/">Warren Oates</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0844969/">Jaime Sánchez</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0424565/">Ben Johnson</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0273477/">Emilio Fernández</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001510/">Strother Martin</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0428618/">L.Q. Jones</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0215260/">Albert Dekker</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005019/">Bo Hopkins</a></div><br /><div><em>The Wild Bunch (1969)</em> is about the end of the Western era, a theme director Sam Peckinpah also explored in his first success, <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/07/target-222-ride-high-country-1962-sam.html">Ride the High Country (1962)</a>.</em> The year is 1913, and the aging gunslingers of yesteryear now find themselves strangers in a modern, civilised world: the once indispensable horse is being replaced by the automobile, and traditional firearm duels now play out with M1917 Browning machine guns, which belt out bullets at 450 rounds/minute. So advanced, in fact, has the American West become that its cowboys must seek out action over the national border in "primitive" Mexico, where oppressed civilians fight valiantly, with minimal resources, to overthrow the resident dictatorship of General Mapache (Emilio Fernández); it is only in these revolutionists that the heroic spirit of the Old West survives. Aside from Angel (Jaime Sánchez), who is fighting for an ideal, there is not a single noble character in the film, not even the law-enforcer (Albert Dekker), who arrogantly and cowardly bullies criminal bounty-hunters into doing his work.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323356862528701746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 189px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm5VCzedOWcFxK_yVRvY9ZKkzSxXZiFZ57aUtT94WogyaegzRLsrALVsklrvkbBLJcIiJxhmqanlqoYv0h-nyQr-W0hRkVN80tbHJujXT267zAMc1csngzQtsY1GmElHioJ2jSztB4HB0/s320/wild-bunch-560.jpg" border="0" />The surviving outlaws of the Old West – William Holden, Ernest Borgnine, Robert Ryan, Edmond O'Brien – cling to the tattered vestiges of their former ways, embracing an outdated code of "honour" that feels woefully inadequate in the modern world: they are "unchanged men in a changing land. Out of step, out of place, and desperately out of time." But unlike 'Ride the High Country,' which featured genre stalwarts Joel McCrea and Randolph Scott as washed-up Western heroes, none of the "Wild Bunch" ever were heroes. Having always lived on the dark side of the law, as wanted outlaws, how can these men possibly recover any sense of nobility? They do, indeed, march wordlessly across General Mapache's headquarters to reclaim their captive member, but only after passively watching him endure hours of torture. Is it guilt that prompts Pike Bishop to come to the aid of his companion? With the old Western heroes long dead, must it fall to its villains to display some sort of decency? Is that what our society has come to?<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323356856612101058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQar8z5fzy0dwVzynpiSmyH3p6ac1kts_w2X2Wi_nHy7njGQWUoXgJnx9dDJBywjkeT63ZtmzBXy7tkhcEpSdtuiKz9f7JoaGPUu6hmSRE3sE0ZkyzTNpFz1B0LfD0y29uvejuGeD4OvM/s320/WildBunch.bmp" border="0" />The stylisation of Sergio Leone (particularly <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/02/target-259-once-upon-time-in-west-1968.html">Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)</a></em>) was clearly an influence on <em>The Wild Bunch</em>, but Peckinpah also makes the style his own. Unlike Leone, whose greatest mastery is in the prolonged build-up rather than the climax, Peckinpah simply prolongs the climax itself. The tempo of Lou Lombardo's editing seems to resemble, if anything, the spatter of machine gun fire, cutting ferociously from one shot to another – often utilising almost balletic slow-motion – and consciously mimicking the feverish confusion of a shootout. Though one might describe Peckinpah's use of violence as gratuitous (and many did in 1969, with the film almost landing an X-rating, and garnering plenty of controversy), there is a clear streak of disapproval running through the film's two major bloodbaths, in which the participants are seemingly depicted as immature children gunning each other with toy weapons; it is as though the anachronistic outlaws are merely grasping for their younger years, when their actions were considered significant, and their environment well within their control.</div><div><strong>8/10</strong><br /><br />Currently my #3 film of 1969:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Midnight Cowbo</em></strong>y (John Schlesinger)<br />2) <strong><em>Andrey Rublyov {Andrei Rublev}</em></strong> (Andrei Tarkovsky)<br />3) <strong><em>The Wild Bunch</em></strong> (Sam Peckinpah)<br />4) <strong><em>Take the Money and Run</em></strong> (Woody Allen)</div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-48644378965354224612009-04-09T22:58:00.000-07:002009-04-09T23:12:07.575-07:00Target #266: The Bad and the Beautiful (1952, Vincente Minnelli)<strong><em>TSPDT</em> placing:</strong> #714<br /><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0591486/">Vincente Minnelli</a></div><div><strong>Written by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0103488/">George Bradshaw</a> (story), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0773660/">Charles Schnee</a> (screenplay)</div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001805/">Lana Turner</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000018/">Kirk Douglas</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0682074/">Walter Pidgeon</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0694090/">Dick Powell</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0837959/">Barry Sullivan</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0002108/">Gloria Grahame</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0738042/">Gilbert Roland</a></div><br /><div><strong>WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!</strong> <em>[Paragraph 2 only]</em></div><br /><div>If there's one thing that filmmakers know, it's Hollywood. It's the charm, magic and otherwordly emotion of a studio movie set, or – the flip-side – the seedy underbelly of greed, ambition and betrayal. <em>The Bad and the Beautiful (1952)</em> is an excellent drama about Hollywood, but it's not quite on par with the similar show-business satires of previous years, particularly Mankiewicz's <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/10/target-235-all-about-eve-1950-joseph-l.html">All About Eve (1950)</a></em> {which concerned the stage, but tread similar territory} and Wilder's <em>Sunset Blvd. (1950)</em>. Perhaps the difference lies in director Vincente Minnelli, whose work is as graceful and professional as ever, but who is quite obviously an optimist: he loves Hollywood, and can't bring himself to despise all that it represents. Whereas Billy Wilder apparently hated everyone and everything, lending <em>Sunset Blvd.</em> its legendary bitter edge, Minnelli looks down upon his disgraced producer Jonathan Shields (Kirk Douglas) not with hatred, nor even pity, but almost admiration – as a misunderstood genius making a final hopeful bid for redemption. Unlike that Gothic grotesque Norma Desmond, it seems that Shields' "return" will be a success.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322940965114235010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vpLqRd6g0EPmPS9f61-MYmfvcnq99HlMzQoPy0OArDLjwH9xlr96r8PQCmxNysBpWdRe1JJfl6IUZjZT7XkMR9JNc-KJyhxDJgo5CS2NYa5OsSeSzWEp-xPOfnTH43W6AliDViJL9F0/s320/BadBauitufl2.jpg" border="0" /><em>The Bad and the Beautiful</em> employs a similar storytelling device to <em>All About Eve (1950)</em>, telling its story almost entirely via noirish flashbacks. Three successful artists – a director, actress and writer – arrive at the home of Jonathan Shields, the disgraced Hollywood producer to whom each of the three owes their monumental success. So why do they loathe him? Shields gave director Fred Amiel (Barry Sullivan) his big break in cinema, worked with him to great acclaim, and then shut him out of his dream project, a <em>Gone with the Wind</em>-like epic called "The Faraway Mountain." Georgia Larisson (Lana Turner) was likewise plucked from obscurity, rescued from a lifetime of self-loathing sex and alcoholism, before being abandoned in her moment of triumph. Novelist James Lee Bartlow (Dick Powell, in another great dramatic role) already had some acclaim, but also the hindrance of distracting Southern belle wife Rosemary (Gloria Grahame). Though he couldn't possibly have foreseen the consequences of his actions, Shields took care of that, as well.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322940965484932786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7g_Sr-osmiU7dW4cdjR3UieZwDgoUfgwABWVummFN8tzL6p7CdYwO6MXMp-CaigLwYYx6G6jsTzKEwYQGmOVrvGj2BUQncu8KIsO8UgI0bxq6Ie2N4Fvn-VxSmsVtKhSYjBPlV9jwZsg/s320/BadBauitufl.jpg" border="0" />Each of the three owes their livelihood to Jonathan Shields, and I think that this is the true root of their hatred: they're eternally in debt to him, and like Faust, feel as though they have traded their souls for a room at the top. Kirk Douglas portrays Shields wonderfully, and in the film's most searing moment, he explodes into a fit of rage, his short, stocky stature seeming to inflate as his antagonism grows. But Shields isn't really as inherently "bad" as the film's title would have you believe. He is presented as a flawed genius, whose personal shortcomings stem from the same artistic vein as that which fuels his cinematic intuition (a Graham Greene quote clarifies my meaning: he once described himself as having "a character profoundly antagonistic to ordinary domestic life," and that "unfortunately, the disease is also one's material"). Indeed, Shields was modelled on several filmmakers, most noticeably Val Lewton (whose <em>Cat People (1942)</em> gets an indirect reference), Orson Welles, and David O. Selznick, whose box-office flop <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2009/02/target-257-duel-in-sun-1946-king-vidor.html">Duel in the Sun (1946)</a></em> also exhausted considerable funding and several directors.<br /><div><strong>7/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #5 film of 1952:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Singin’ in the Rain</em></strong> (Stanley Donen, Gene Kelly)<br />2) <strong><em>Limelight</em></strong> (Charles Chaplin)<br />3) <strong><em>Umberto D.</em></strong> (Vittorio De Sica)<br />4) <strong><em>On Dangerous Ground</em></strong> (Nicholas Ray, Ida Lupino)<br />5) <strong><em>The Bad and the Beautiful</em></strong> (Vincente Minnelli)<br />6) <strong><em>High Noon</em></strong> (Fred Zinnemann)<br />7) <strong><em>Macao</em></strong> (Josef von Sternberg, Nicholas Ray)</div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874901938972880720.post-59408049641228238722009-04-04T23:27:00.000-07:002009-04-12T16:56:45.668-07:00Target #265: The Shanghai Gesture (1941, Josef von Sternberg)<strong><em>TSPDT </em>placing:</strong> #790<br /><div><div><strong>Directed by:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0903049/">Josef von Sternberg</a></div><div><strong>Written by: </strong><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0173303/">John Colton</a> (play), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0903049/">Josef von Sternberg</a> (adaptation), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0378773/">Geza Herczeg</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0299154/">Jules Furthman</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0901629/">Karl Vollmöller</a></div><div><strong>Starring:</strong> <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000074/">Gene Tierney</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0404158/">Walter Huston</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001514/">Victor Mature</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0613262/">Ona Munson</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0112198/">Phyllis Brooks</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0060168/">Albert Bassermann</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0089314/">Eric Blore</a></div><br /><div>Having just watched <em>The Shanghai Gesture (1941)</em>, I'm not even sure what to make of it. Was it a good film? Was it a complete mess? The 100 minutes unfolded like a drug-induced haze, the alluring scent of an opiate hanging thickly in the air. Somehow, the film's plot – whatever it may have been about – seemed totally and utterly inconsequential, with director Josef von Sternberg placing additional, almost superfluous, importance on the development of mood. Indeed, aside from atmosphere, there's little else to keep you watching the film: the characters are sleazy and grotesque, the sort you'd expect to find at a seedy casino, its employees imbued with the mock dignity of one who deals exclusively in exploiting the weaknesses of lesser men. A good cast – Walter Huston, Gene Tierney, Victor Mature, Eric Blore – is not exactly wasted on such poorly-developed characters, but one gets the sense that even they are not exactly sure what they're doing in this place. But, if the film is a failure, then it's a genuinely fascinating one.<br /><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321091605651514066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqKf9JA0OLk4zDbDyJoBE8orDeWXfe2YFE0rOQnYoXwrxdqRgADfS0dJ_yfw1L0JxpmOighyphenhyphenFD7Pjr5YS2EH_eK6a2KW-ZzbQMaek9vwCcE8jTlDj-0_wyG-lBcTtCM9ENlg-nffOlAAI/s320/vlcsnap-1698943.png" border="0" /></div><div>"Mother" Gin Sling (Ona Munson, in unflattering Oriental make-up) is the mysterious and ruthless owner of a Shanghai casino, where desperate men come night or day to gamble their lives and fortunes. Employee Doctor Omar (Victor Mature) does his best to charm the beautiful girls who come his way, in one night snagging both smart-talking American Dixie (Phyllis Brooks) and conceited rich-girl "Poppy" (Gene Tierney). When threatened with closure by wealthy entrepreneur Sir Guy Charteris (Walter Huston), Gin Sling springs into action, using her enormous influence to rebuff the challenge. <em>The Shanghai Gesture</em> is sometimes categorised as film noir. Certainly, other noir pictures like <em>Macao (1952)</em>, which Josef von Sternberg directed until he was replaced by Nicholas Ray, utilised a similarly exotic Asian setting, so the non-American locale doesn't immediately preclude it from consideration. In some ways, it fits the bill: every character in the film has a weakness – something to hide – through which they can be manipulated; a shady past that has come back to haunt them.<br /><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321091601372280002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKyfrPsOJxiSifNUxdgrsGp7UiTGIsJAso98ClDTcgNyHPJgGTyF1MDB1R7LJFCjO8b1XdNg7_cp22b4OVL8lWZwA3DhWV0o5jI64e7i8FXXQhyphenhyphene6T2xU173miRGj0PzYplwy5Gddy2Q/s320/vlcsnap-995156.png" border="0" /></div><div>Despite being restricted by the provisions of the Production Code, <em>The Shanghai Gesture</em> is one of the sleaziest films of its era, leaving a bitter, uneasy taste in the mouth, despite impeccable production values. Hollywood's interpretation of Eastern cultural values was evidently unflattering, and every Asian character is utterly devoid of morals, with particularly prominence given to the proudly misogynistic attitudes of one Chinese employee who likes to brag of his polygyny. A shocking history of sex slavery is exposed, with New Year's Eve guests treated to a recreation of these ghastly practices (or, at least, we're told that it is merely a recreation). But it isn't only the Chinese whose immorality is exposed, and even the seemingly upright Sir Guy betrays a suspect past, doomed finally to suffer for his perceived sins. Walter Huston is excellent as always, bringing conviction to a film in which everybody else seems uncertain of their roles. Gene Tierney, perhaps her most ravishing performance outside <em><a href="http://shootinglessons1000.blogspot.com/2008/07/target-227-laura-1944-otto-preminger.html">Laura (1944)</a></em>, isn't particularly convincing, but her falseness does strangely work, given the desperate phoniness of her character.</div><div><strong>6/10</strong></div><br /><div>Currently my #8 film of 1941:</div><div>1) <strong><em>Citizen Kane</em></strong> (Orson Welles)<br />2) <strong><em>The Maltese Falcon</em></strong> (John Huston)<br />3) <strong><em>49th Parallel</em></strong> (Michael Powell)<br />4)<strong><em> The Wolf Man</em></strong> (George Waggner)<br />5) <strong><em>Shadow of the Thin Man</em></strong> (W.S. Van Dyke)<br />6) <strong><em>Swamp Water </em></strong>(Jean Renoir)<br />7) <strong><em>High Sierra</em></strong> (Raoul Walsh)<br />8) <strong><em>The Shanghai Gesture</em></strong> (Josef von Sternberg)<br />9) <strong><em>Suspicion </em></strong>(Alfred Hitchcock)</div></div>ackatsishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09629378991868728549noreply@blogger.com3