It is difficult to understand why Robert De Niro did not try his hand at more films like this, given how effective he is within it. He plays Jack Walsh, a bounty hunter asked by his boss to retrieve a mob accountant, Jonathan "The Duke" Mardukas (Charles Grodin), who has gone on the run after having agreed with the FBI to testify against his boss, Jimmy Serrano (played by Dennis Farina). Walsh has five days to find The Duke and get him to Los Angeles, otherwise his boss will have to stump up the £450,000.00 bail bond. The FBI want the Duke back and the mob want him dead, making Walsh's journey with his reluctant companion all the more problematic, especially with a rival bounty hunter on his tail, looking for a slice of the bumper payday Walsh has been promised.
The Duke feigns aviaphobia, leaving Walsh trying to make his way from New York to LA by train, bus, truck and car. The Duke quickly starts to get on Walsh's already frayed nerves and when the rival bounty hunter manages to cancel his credit card, things get really complicated...
The film is directed by Martin Brest, who previously made Beverly Hills Cop and in many ways it is similar in tone to that Eddie Murphy vehicle - profane, quick-paced, funny but not quite as violent or action-packed. Robert De Niro is on excellent form, conveying all of the desperation, frustration and cynicism of his character, yet still managing to keep the performance light and entertaining. Showing long before the Fockers came along that he is an adept comedian, De Niro handles his banter with the Feds with ease and immaculate comic timing and although The Duke could easily have become irritating, Grodin succeeds in making him both sympathetic and endearing.
Coming across as a sort of companion piece to Planes, Trains and Automobiles, this is a hugely enjoyable, perfectly paced film and although the incredible calibre of De Niro's work before and since leaves Midnight Run outside a list of his very best work, Grodin and Brest have come nowhere near being this good since. Indeed, were it not for Beverly Hills Cop, Brest could easily have been dismissed after this as a one-hit wonder. Enjoy.
Thursday 29 July 2010
Wednesday 28 July 2010
LA Confidential (1997)
One of the greatest achievements of this sensational modern noir was to take James Elroy's labyrinthine, decade-spanning novel and pare it down to a manageable screenplay. What we are left with is a gripping tale of corrupt and incorruptible LA cops, drugs, exotic call-girls, sleazy tabloid hacks, hoodlums and murder.
Ed Exley (Guy Pearce) is a young police officer, the son of a celebrated LA officer, out to make a name for himself and carve out his own career. Another officer, Bud White (Russell Crowe) spends his time meting out summary justice to wife-beaters, having watched helplessly as his mother suffered at the hands of his cruel father. Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey) is supposed to work in vice, but has two lucrative sidelines - technical advisor to TV series "Badge of Honor" and a cash-in-hand deal with tabloid hack Sid Hudgens (Danny Devito) where he sets up celebrities to get busted on drug-possession charges, Hudgens grabbing the exclusive photos while Vincennes carts them off for charging and booking.
A late night bust up at the police station where a couple of men arrested for attacking police officers are set upon by half of the station results in Bud White's partner, Dick Stensland, being forced into early retirement. Exley testifies against Stensland in return for cynical career progression, but that night, Stensland gets caught up in a shooting at the Midnight Owl coffee shop, where he and several other customers lose their lives.
What follows defies concise explanation, but it involves cosmetically altered call girls, organised crime, the police and control of the LA drug trade. Trying to follow who is connected to who and how is just one of the many pleasures of this rich, detailed, engrossing film.
Directed by Curtis Hanson from Brian Helgeland's screenplay (and neither of them have come anywhere close to being this good before or since) and cruelly beaten to a whole raft of Oscars by the more Academy-friendly Titanic, the film is a triumph in every conceivable way. The story is involved and requires concentration throughout, but it is not incomprehensible. Revelations and surprises abound and each of the main characters have their moment to shine. Spacey, Crowe, Devito and Pearce are all perfectly cast, embodying all of the nuances and flaws of their characters with effortless precision. The atmosphere, feel and set design are immaculate, perfectly encapsulating the 1950's era with suits, cars and locations all spot on.
There have been very few decent films in this genre since its heyday in the 40's and 50's and it is difficult to think of one of anywhere near this quality since Chinatown. You can get a two-disc Special Edition now with the usual plethora of making-of's, commentaries and even the pilot episode of the spin-off TV series. Sadly the critical acclaim garnered by the film did not lead to a revival of quality private-eye, femme fatale genre films, but LA Confidential remains a towering achievement in cinema and one of the finest of its or any other type. See it as soon as you can.
Ed Exley (Guy Pearce) is a young police officer, the son of a celebrated LA officer, out to make a name for himself and carve out his own career. Another officer, Bud White (Russell Crowe) spends his time meting out summary justice to wife-beaters, having watched helplessly as his mother suffered at the hands of his cruel father. Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey) is supposed to work in vice, but has two lucrative sidelines - technical advisor to TV series "Badge of Honor" and a cash-in-hand deal with tabloid hack Sid Hudgens (Danny Devito) where he sets up celebrities to get busted on drug-possession charges, Hudgens grabbing the exclusive photos while Vincennes carts them off for charging and booking.
A late night bust up at the police station where a couple of men arrested for attacking police officers are set upon by half of the station results in Bud White's partner, Dick Stensland, being forced into early retirement. Exley testifies against Stensland in return for cynical career progression, but that night, Stensland gets caught up in a shooting at the Midnight Owl coffee shop, where he and several other customers lose their lives.
What follows defies concise explanation, but it involves cosmetically altered call girls, organised crime, the police and control of the LA drug trade. Trying to follow who is connected to who and how is just one of the many pleasures of this rich, detailed, engrossing film.
Directed by Curtis Hanson from Brian Helgeland's screenplay (and neither of them have come anywhere close to being this good before or since) and cruelly beaten to a whole raft of Oscars by the more Academy-friendly Titanic, the film is a triumph in every conceivable way. The story is involved and requires concentration throughout, but it is not incomprehensible. Revelations and surprises abound and each of the main characters have their moment to shine. Spacey, Crowe, Devito and Pearce are all perfectly cast, embodying all of the nuances and flaws of their characters with effortless precision. The atmosphere, feel and set design are immaculate, perfectly encapsulating the 1950's era with suits, cars and locations all spot on.
There have been very few decent films in this genre since its heyday in the 40's and 50's and it is difficult to think of one of anywhere near this quality since Chinatown. You can get a two-disc Special Edition now with the usual plethora of making-of's, commentaries and even the pilot episode of the spin-off TV series. Sadly the critical acclaim garnered by the film did not lead to a revival of quality private-eye, femme fatale genre films, but LA Confidential remains a towering achievement in cinema and one of the finest of its or any other type. See it as soon as you can.
Tuesday 20 July 2010
Some Like It Hot
Chicago, 1929. Joe (Tony Curtis) and Jerry (Jack Lemmon) are struggling musicians who accidentally stumble on the St Valentine's Day Massacre, as Spatz and his boys kill Toothpick Charlie for giving their speakeasy up to the cops.
In a desperate act of self-preservation, Joe and Jerry disguise themselves as women (Josephine and Daphne) and join a band travelling to Florida for a musical tour. Both of them fall for Sugar Kane (Marilyn Monroe) but once they reach Florida Jerry attracts the unwanted attentions of a wealthy divorced playboy, leaving Joe to disguise himself as Junior, the millionaire heir to the Shell Oil fortune, in an effort to woo Sugar Kane. Soon, the mob catch up with them as an organised crime conference descends on their Florida resort and they are trying to evade Spatz and his men, maintain their disguises, woo the girl and avoid the lecherous advances of Osgood Fielding III.
This film is an ageless delight. Made over half a century ago and set another thirty years before that, it is hilarious, exciting and sexy. Monroe first appears walking along a train station platform, admired from behind by Jerry as "jello on springs". Although seemingly a cliched dumb-blonde, Monroe portrays her as much more charming, vulnerable and damaged than that. When she sings "I'm through with love", it's heart-breaking. Curtis is just effortless in switching between three very different roles. His performance as Junior is basically an elaborate impersonation of Cary Grant and his constant pouting as Josephine is continuously laugh-out loud funny.
Lemmon pretty much steals the show, though. Whether not noticing that he's playing the back of his double-bass because he is admiring Monroe's shimmying, or dancing the tango with Osgood, or shaking his maracas whilst announcing his engagement to him, or simply expressing endless exasperation at how unfair it is that he gets seduced by a man while Joe gets Monroe, he is immense. He makes such a bright-eyed woman and yet such a grumpy man. It all comes together into a perfect climax, never slipping into cliche or laziness. A genuine classic.
In a desperate act of self-preservation, Joe and Jerry disguise themselves as women (Josephine and Daphne) and join a band travelling to Florida for a musical tour. Both of them fall for Sugar Kane (Marilyn Monroe) but once they reach Florida Jerry attracts the unwanted attentions of a wealthy divorced playboy, leaving Joe to disguise himself as Junior, the millionaire heir to the Shell Oil fortune, in an effort to woo Sugar Kane. Soon, the mob catch up with them as an organised crime conference descends on their Florida resort and they are trying to evade Spatz and his men, maintain their disguises, woo the girl and avoid the lecherous advances of Osgood Fielding III.
This film is an ageless delight. Made over half a century ago and set another thirty years before that, it is hilarious, exciting and sexy. Monroe first appears walking along a train station platform, admired from behind by Jerry as "jello on springs". Although seemingly a cliched dumb-blonde, Monroe portrays her as much more charming, vulnerable and damaged than that. When she sings "I'm through with love", it's heart-breaking. Curtis is just effortless in switching between three very different roles. His performance as Junior is basically an elaborate impersonation of Cary Grant and his constant pouting as Josephine is continuously laugh-out loud funny.
Lemmon pretty much steals the show, though. Whether not noticing that he's playing the back of his double-bass because he is admiring Monroe's shimmying, or dancing the tango with Osgood, or shaking his maracas whilst announcing his engagement to him, or simply expressing endless exasperation at how unfair it is that he gets seduced by a man while Joe gets Monroe, he is immense. He makes such a bright-eyed woman and yet such a grumpy man. It all comes together into a perfect climax, never slipping into cliche or laziness. A genuine classic.
Monday 19 July 2010
Inception (2010) review (no spoilers!)
Christopher Nolan seems to be determined to test our concentration. Memento required us to remember not what happened before, but what had happened afterwards, The Prestige gave precious few indicators of when you were jumping forwards and back and so all you could do was focus and hope you kept up. Batman Begins helped us out with a few well-timed changes of hair-cut. Inception drops us into dreams, dreams within dreams and dreams within dreams within dreams and insists that we watch closely, pay attention and remember all of the little details.
It is an effort that is rewarded in spades with one of the more intelligent, exhilarating and thought-provoking action-thrillers of recent years. Debate will no doubt rage for years as to what is really going on, what the film is about and where dreams and reality end and begin. For the moment though, this is the plot into which we are propelled:-
Cobb (Di Caprio) works as a thief of ideas. He has mastered the technology required to enter someone's dreams and steal their secrets from their sub-conscious. He is approached by a Japanese businessman (Saito)who asks him to carry out the reverse, an inception, the planting of an idea into someone's sub-conscious. Saito cannot compete with the owner of an enormous energy company (Fischer) and so wants to implant in the mind of Fischer's son and heir the idea of breaking the company up.
Cobb remains convinced it can be done, despite his partner's insistence that the sub-conscious always recognises that an idea is not its own and when Cobb is promised that if he can complete the assignment he will able to return home to his children from whom he has been exiled, he gathers together a team to assist him in this most audacious of projects.
The gathering of that team helps us to understand the rules of entering dreams, what can and cannot be done, how dreams can be created (apparently you need an architect), how you can be sure you are no longer in a dream and most crucially, how to wake up. Tom Hardy joins as Eames, a forger, an impersonator of other characters within a dream. Ellen Page is an architecture student, new to dreams, but a fast learner and Joseph Gordon-Levitt is Cobb's assistant/sidekick/right-hand man, managing to be endearing, funny, tough as nails and ambiguous all at the same time.
The team have to enter Fischer's dream, then go down two further levels (the aforementioned dream within a dream within a dream), both to trick his subconscious and also to persuade his mind that the idea is something he thought of and not something planted from outside. All the while they must fend off "security operatives", elements of Fischer's sub-conscious trained to identify and destroy invaders, much like white blood cells attacking infection.
This all sounds fiendishly complicated and although it is, it is not as difficult to follow as it sounds. The different layers of dreaming are so different in colour, location and design that it is easy to identify where and when the action is taking place. And don't be mistaken, action is indeed taking place. Despite a certain amount of exposition being necessary to help us understand what is happening and how this all is supposed to work, much of it is done on the move, much like The Bourne Ultimatum. The action is narratively propulsive, rather than just being a set-piece to showcase special effects (I'm talking to you, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen). Whether it is a machine-gun sound-tracked car chase, a foot race, snow-mobiles and skiers, or a zero-gravity punch-up in a spinning hotel corridor, it is always compelling, always logical, always thrilling.
Rarely has such a long film felt so short and rarely such a cerebral film made for such perfect Friday night entertainment. The pacing is perfect, moving from dream layer to dream layer with faith in the audiences ability to keep up and with Di Caprio and Page (as the architecture student) on hand both to help explain what is happening, but also anchoring the film with superb performances. The more fantastical plot elements never feel ludicrous, the developments never contrived. We believe in all of the characters, perhaps these two more than any as they both try to successfully navigate what becomes an increasingly complicated and dangerous dream world. Di Caprio plays a role of increasing desperation and determination and conveys brilliantly his profound sadness at the mistakes of his past.
A backlash has already begun against Inception, accusing it of being cold and clinical, a story constructed rather than shared. Some have also resented its seemingly unnecessary complexity, however within its own terms it makes perfect sense. It is a film I cannot recommend highly enough and although its moments of wit and warmth are few and far between, they are there. It is exciting, challenging, absorbing and ultimately baffling, but for once that is a good thing. See it.
It is an effort that is rewarded in spades with one of the more intelligent, exhilarating and thought-provoking action-thrillers of recent years. Debate will no doubt rage for years as to what is really going on, what the film is about and where dreams and reality end and begin. For the moment though, this is the plot into which we are propelled:-
Cobb (Di Caprio) works as a thief of ideas. He has mastered the technology required to enter someone's dreams and steal their secrets from their sub-conscious. He is approached by a Japanese businessman (Saito)who asks him to carry out the reverse, an inception, the planting of an idea into someone's sub-conscious. Saito cannot compete with the owner of an enormous energy company (Fischer) and so wants to implant in the mind of Fischer's son and heir the idea of breaking the company up.
Cobb remains convinced it can be done, despite his partner's insistence that the sub-conscious always recognises that an idea is not its own and when Cobb is promised that if he can complete the assignment he will able to return home to his children from whom he has been exiled, he gathers together a team to assist him in this most audacious of projects.
The gathering of that team helps us to understand the rules of entering dreams, what can and cannot be done, how dreams can be created (apparently you need an architect), how you can be sure you are no longer in a dream and most crucially, how to wake up. Tom Hardy joins as Eames, a forger, an impersonator of other characters within a dream. Ellen Page is an architecture student, new to dreams, but a fast learner and Joseph Gordon-Levitt is Cobb's assistant/sidekick/right-hand man, managing to be endearing, funny, tough as nails and ambiguous all at the same time.
The team have to enter Fischer's dream, then go down two further levels (the aforementioned dream within a dream within a dream), both to trick his subconscious and also to persuade his mind that the idea is something he thought of and not something planted from outside. All the while they must fend off "security operatives", elements of Fischer's sub-conscious trained to identify and destroy invaders, much like white blood cells attacking infection.
This all sounds fiendishly complicated and although it is, it is not as difficult to follow as it sounds. The different layers of dreaming are so different in colour, location and design that it is easy to identify where and when the action is taking place. And don't be mistaken, action is indeed taking place. Despite a certain amount of exposition being necessary to help us understand what is happening and how this all is supposed to work, much of it is done on the move, much like The Bourne Ultimatum. The action is narratively propulsive, rather than just being a set-piece to showcase special effects (I'm talking to you, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen). Whether it is a machine-gun sound-tracked car chase, a foot race, snow-mobiles and skiers, or a zero-gravity punch-up in a spinning hotel corridor, it is always compelling, always logical, always thrilling.
Rarely has such a long film felt so short and rarely such a cerebral film made for such perfect Friday night entertainment. The pacing is perfect, moving from dream layer to dream layer with faith in the audiences ability to keep up and with Di Caprio and Page (as the architecture student) on hand both to help explain what is happening, but also anchoring the film with superb performances. The more fantastical plot elements never feel ludicrous, the developments never contrived. We believe in all of the characters, perhaps these two more than any as they both try to successfully navigate what becomes an increasingly complicated and dangerous dream world. Di Caprio plays a role of increasing desperation and determination and conveys brilliantly his profound sadness at the mistakes of his past.
A backlash has already begun against Inception, accusing it of being cold and clinical, a story constructed rather than shared. Some have also resented its seemingly unnecessary complexity, however within its own terms it makes perfect sense. It is a film I cannot recommend highly enough and although its moments of wit and warmth are few and far between, they are there. It is exciting, challenging, absorbing and ultimately baffling, but for once that is a good thing. See it.
Tuesday 13 July 2010
The Host
Okay, so it came out a few years ago, but for the time being that is going to be the trend with this blog. I started it a few days ago and films have been around for 114 years, so I have a bit of a backlog to navigate.
The Host is a Korean film, set around the Han river in Seoul. It opens with a scene fresh out of the hackneyed school of creature features - dumping dangerous chemicals into the sewers. Immediately afterwards we meet the Park family. Patriarch, two sons, a daughter and a grand-daughter. Hee-Bong runs a small snack kiosk on the banks of the Han with his eldest son Kang Du, who's wife deserted him and their daughter soon after childbirth. Kang Du is trying to raise his daughter (Hyun Seo), who is now in her early teens, as best he can. Hee Bong loves Kang Du and understands his weaknesses and so is constantly reminding his other son and daughter to go easy on him, even as incredible events unfold around them.
All of this back-story and context unfolds with breath-taking leanness and efficiency. No clumsy exposition, no unnecessary flab or sentimentality, just what we need to go and then off we go. Off we go. Suddenly a mutant fish/amphibian/creature/thing appears out of the river and attacks. Everyone panics, everyone scatters, many get eaten. Despite what can only be presumed to be a rock-bottom budget, a genuinely unique creature has been crafted. We've got no idea what it is, but we're pretty sure it means to do harm and we want to be out of its way. It would not be over-stating the position to say that the attack scene goes toe to toe with the opening attack of Spielberg's War of the Worlds for impact. It's that effective, that terrifying.
In the melee, Kang Du accidentally lets go of his daughter's hand and she is taken by the creature. The rest of the film therefore consists, after Kang Du receives a desperate call from his daughter on her mobile, of the rest of the family joining forces to find the creature's lair and rescue Hyun Seo. They have no tracking skills, no plot-device convenient background in the marines. Hee Bong's daughter has archery skills that inevitably come to the fore in the climactic show-down, but the rest of the family are refreshingly, almost disconcertingly inept. Heck, Kang Du cannot even keep count of how many bullets are in his shotgun and his brother fails to throw a Molotov cocktail properly for no other reason than because sometime normal people mess up straight forward tasks.
The film has effective, well-aimed digs at government bureaucracy, cover-ups and incompetence and the inability of ordinary people to get the attention of those supposedly in charge. The family rally together but they still bicker, still get cross with each other, still end the film with the same emotional problems and character flaws they had at the beginning. The pacing and narrative drive lag noticeably in the middle when the film seems to lose a sense of where it is supposed to be going. Then all of a sudden it snaps out of it and hurtles towards a petrol bomb/agent yellow / flaming arrow / mutant newt conclusion that manages to be crowd-pleasing and stirring without being predictable or cloying.
As with all well made foreign films it will no doubt be ruined in the obvious Hollywood remake. See it first then you can tell everyone how much better the original is.
The Host is a Korean film, set around the Han river in Seoul. It opens with a scene fresh out of the hackneyed school of creature features - dumping dangerous chemicals into the sewers. Immediately afterwards we meet the Park family. Patriarch, two sons, a daughter and a grand-daughter. Hee-Bong runs a small snack kiosk on the banks of the Han with his eldest son Kang Du, who's wife deserted him and their daughter soon after childbirth. Kang Du is trying to raise his daughter (Hyun Seo), who is now in her early teens, as best he can. Hee Bong loves Kang Du and understands his weaknesses and so is constantly reminding his other son and daughter to go easy on him, even as incredible events unfold around them.
All of this back-story and context unfolds with breath-taking leanness and efficiency. No clumsy exposition, no unnecessary flab or sentimentality, just what we need to go and then off we go. Off we go. Suddenly a mutant fish/amphibian/creature/thing appears out of the river and attacks. Everyone panics, everyone scatters, many get eaten. Despite what can only be presumed to be a rock-bottom budget, a genuinely unique creature has been crafted. We've got no idea what it is, but we're pretty sure it means to do harm and we want to be out of its way. It would not be over-stating the position to say that the attack scene goes toe to toe with the opening attack of Spielberg's War of the Worlds for impact. It's that effective, that terrifying.
In the melee, Kang Du accidentally lets go of his daughter's hand and she is taken by the creature. The rest of the film therefore consists, after Kang Du receives a desperate call from his daughter on her mobile, of the rest of the family joining forces to find the creature's lair and rescue Hyun Seo. They have no tracking skills, no plot-device convenient background in the marines. Hee Bong's daughter has archery skills that inevitably come to the fore in the climactic show-down, but the rest of the family are refreshingly, almost disconcertingly inept. Heck, Kang Du cannot even keep count of how many bullets are in his shotgun and his brother fails to throw a Molotov cocktail properly for no other reason than because sometime normal people mess up straight forward tasks.
The film has effective, well-aimed digs at government bureaucracy, cover-ups and incompetence and the inability of ordinary people to get the attention of those supposedly in charge. The family rally together but they still bicker, still get cross with each other, still end the film with the same emotional problems and character flaws they had at the beginning. The pacing and narrative drive lag noticeably in the middle when the film seems to lose a sense of where it is supposed to be going. Then all of a sudden it snaps out of it and hurtles towards a petrol bomb/agent yellow / flaming arrow / mutant newt conclusion that manages to be crowd-pleasing and stirring without being predictable or cloying.
As with all well made foreign films it will no doubt be ruined in the obvious Hollywood remake. See it first then you can tell everyone how much better the original is.
Friday 9 July 2010
Star Trek (2009)
I have just seen the new Star Trek film and it was well worth my time and money. I have never really got into the later series (Voyager, DS9, Enterprise), but love the original series and TNG. JJ Abrams clearly has great affection for the Star Trek universe and brought on board writers who knew how to balance freshness with enough reference points to satisfy established fans. It was all just so lively and energetic. Not a spoof, not self-referential, just fast-paced, action-packed, character-establishing stuff. Trying to make space in a screenplay for characters who have been developed over decades of TV series and films without either reducing them to two-dimensional caricatures, bogging down the narrative, or stretching the running time is an unenviable task, but it is handled excellently. Chekhov suddenly knows how to transport a moving target, Sulu leaves the handbrake on but knows kung-fu, Bones confirms that he is indeed a doctor, despite spending more time on the bridge than in sickbay, Scotty succeeds in giving the Enterprise more power, Spock finds time for a mind-meld and a nerve-pinch, Uhuru actually can translate all manner of interstellar communication and Kirk snogs the green alien, shouts, fights and takes his place in the Captain's chair.
Breathtaking special effects, space battle scenes more akin to Serenity or Jedi than the sluggish chess games of previous Star Trek outings, excellent pacing, a coherent narrative (even with red matter, black holes and time travel) and well-performed main roles. Hell, they even find time to fry the guy in the red uniform.
Breathtaking special effects, space battle scenes more akin to Serenity or Jedi than the sluggish chess games of previous Star Trek outings, excellent pacing, a coherent narrative (even with red matter, black holes and time travel) and well-performed main roles. Hell, they even find time to fry the guy in the red uniform.
What's in a name?
So here is the beginning of my new film blog. I have a blog already, but I felt that compared to other blogs out there it was a bit trite. I therefore re-launched it as something a little more serious and focused on weightier issues that were on my mind.
That's not to say that films cannot constitute a weightier issue. I've already posted reviews of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and Casablanca, which deal with the horrendous treatment of the mentally unwell and Nazism respectively - hardly trite subject matter. However, I aspire to be a film critic or journalist and so wanted to have an outlet where I can post my reviews of and musings on films, somewhere to collect my thoughts and comments. I don't flatter myself that my observations are hugely novel or insightful, but I want to get them out there, so to speak.
The blog is called silver screen, because my first and greatest love in the world of films will always be the cinema. DVD's are fine, watching films on a widescreen TV is okay, but nothing compares to the big screen, nothing comes close. The more astute of you will have noticed the subtitle of this blog. BTTF is far from my favourite film, but that line represents everything that is exciting, energising and transporting about films. At their best, they can exhilarate, just like the final line of that film.
That's not to say that films cannot constitute a weightier issue. I've already posted reviews of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and Casablanca, which deal with the horrendous treatment of the mentally unwell and Nazism respectively - hardly trite subject matter. However, I aspire to be a film critic or journalist and so wanted to have an outlet where I can post my reviews of and musings on films, somewhere to collect my thoughts and comments. I don't flatter myself that my observations are hugely novel or insightful, but I want to get them out there, so to speak.
The blog is called silver screen, because my first and greatest love in the world of films will always be the cinema. DVD's are fine, watching films on a widescreen TV is okay, but nothing compares to the big screen, nothing comes close. The more astute of you will have noticed the subtitle of this blog. BTTF is far from my favourite film, but that line represents everything that is exciting, energising and transporting about films. At their best, they can exhilarate, just like the final line of that film.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)
No matter the passage of years and similar subject matter having been attempted in Girl, Interrupted and Changeling, this remains an astonishingly affecting piece of film-making.
Jack Nicholson plays Randall P McMurphy, a criminal who thinks it is a smart move to try to avoid harder prison time by pleading insanity and taking what he expects to be a pleasant vacation at a mental institution.
Once there, he comes under the authority of Nurse Ratched, who takes an immediate dislike to him and seems to make it her personal mission to get the better of him.
Louise Fletcher’s performance is incredible and thoroughly deserving of the Academy Award with which she was rewarded. She is a picture of icy calm, composed but clearly dangerous when crossed and the absolute counterpoint of McMurphy. Nicholson is like a whirling dervish at times, not least when trying to secure enough votes to turn the television over to the baseball and then acting out the entire game when Ratched thwarts his attempts.
The film is very much a product of the counter-cultural era in which it was made. McMurphy is the rebel, the anti-authoritarian, railing against the institutionalism of Ratched, all of which makes it so much more devastating when McMurphy ultimately fails to overcome his nemesis.
The revelation of how mental institutions were run at the time and the fearful power that was wielded by those who ran them caused something of a public outcry. Now, some 35 years on, we are left with the shocking scenes of McMurphy getting ECT, we share his rage at Ratched’s triumphant punishment of Brad Dourif and we stare in disbelief at the shell of a man after a successful lobotomy. The Chief’s escape from the asylum is uplifting, but ultimately the film is a downbeat experience, mercifully leavened by scenes of laughter and camaraderie among the patients. It remains a hugely influential film, with performances, screenwriting and direction of the very highest order, however it is very much a film to watch, appreciate and be affected by rather than one to enjoy.
Jack Nicholson plays Randall P McMurphy, a criminal who thinks it is a smart move to try to avoid harder prison time by pleading insanity and taking what he expects to be a pleasant vacation at a mental institution.
Once there, he comes under the authority of Nurse Ratched, who takes an immediate dislike to him and seems to make it her personal mission to get the better of him.
Louise Fletcher’s performance is incredible and thoroughly deserving of the Academy Award with which she was rewarded. She is a picture of icy calm, composed but clearly dangerous when crossed and the absolute counterpoint of McMurphy. Nicholson is like a whirling dervish at times, not least when trying to secure enough votes to turn the television over to the baseball and then acting out the entire game when Ratched thwarts his attempts.
The film is very much a product of the counter-cultural era in which it was made. McMurphy is the rebel, the anti-authoritarian, railing against the institutionalism of Ratched, all of which makes it so much more devastating when McMurphy ultimately fails to overcome his nemesis.
The revelation of how mental institutions were run at the time and the fearful power that was wielded by those who ran them caused something of a public outcry. Now, some 35 years on, we are left with the shocking scenes of McMurphy getting ECT, we share his rage at Ratched’s triumphant punishment of Brad Dourif and we stare in disbelief at the shell of a man after a successful lobotomy. The Chief’s escape from the asylum is uplifting, but ultimately the film is a downbeat experience, mercifully leavened by scenes of laughter and camaraderie among the patients. It remains a hugely influential film, with performances, screenwriting and direction of the very highest order, however it is very much a film to watch, appreciate and be affected by rather than one to enjoy.
Casablanca (1942)
This really is as good as it gets. Humphrey Bogart, playing himself as well as he ever did, runs Rick’s Café Americaine, a bar and casino in Casablanca, during the early stages of the Second World War. He used to be a freedom fighter, but now insists those days are behind him (“I stick my neck out for no man”, he opines).
Although Morocco is still unoccupied, the French are there, as are the Nazis. A brief prologue explains the importance of Casablanca to those fleeing the war. As Nazi Germany has tightened its grip on Europe, a circuitous route of escape has arisen, from southern Europe across the Mediterranean, to Casablanca. Those refugees in Casablanca then try to obtain transit papers to Portugal and from there, escape to the USA.
A somewhat slippery gentleman by the name of Ugarte comes to Rick with letters of transit that he has obtained and which he hopes to sell on to some suitably desperate refugees. Ugarte is killed, leaving Rick to decide what to do with the letters, which he now holds.
At this point, a long-lost love of Rick’s arrives at his bar, now on the arm of a hero of the resistance against the Nazis. This hero, Victor Laszlo, has heard of the letters of transit and is hoping to persuade Rick to hand them over, while the Nazis hope to close in on Laszlo and return him to their concentration camps.
This is a beautiful film in every way. It is written impeccably, full of well known (but often mis-quoted) lines yet it still feels as fresh as this week. Each of the principal actors is perfectly cast, from the stoic, principled Laszlo, through weasel-like Ugarte, fragile but beautiful Ilsa and the wry, pragmatic but ultimately heroic Rick. Every supporting actor plays his part to perfection and the denouement, as Rick rediscovers his idealism is wrapped up by the second-finest final line in film history (see “Some Like it Hot”). It has been my favourite film since I first saw it and nothing has come close since. It is incredibly romantic, but with a rugged man’s man as the lead, it is funny yet underpinned by the most serious of historical contexts and just leaves you as the viewer as satisfied as by a five course meal. Perfect in every way.
Although Morocco is still unoccupied, the French are there, as are the Nazis. A brief prologue explains the importance of Casablanca to those fleeing the war. As Nazi Germany has tightened its grip on Europe, a circuitous route of escape has arisen, from southern Europe across the Mediterranean, to Casablanca. Those refugees in Casablanca then try to obtain transit papers to Portugal and from there, escape to the USA.
A somewhat slippery gentleman by the name of Ugarte comes to Rick with letters of transit that he has obtained and which he hopes to sell on to some suitably desperate refugees. Ugarte is killed, leaving Rick to decide what to do with the letters, which he now holds.
At this point, a long-lost love of Rick’s arrives at his bar, now on the arm of a hero of the resistance against the Nazis. This hero, Victor Laszlo, has heard of the letters of transit and is hoping to persuade Rick to hand them over, while the Nazis hope to close in on Laszlo and return him to their concentration camps.
This is a beautiful film in every way. It is written impeccably, full of well known (but often mis-quoted) lines yet it still feels as fresh as this week. Each of the principal actors is perfectly cast, from the stoic, principled Laszlo, through weasel-like Ugarte, fragile but beautiful Ilsa and the wry, pragmatic but ultimately heroic Rick. Every supporting actor plays his part to perfection and the denouement, as Rick rediscovers his idealism is wrapped up by the second-finest final line in film history (see “Some Like it Hot”). It has been my favourite film since I first saw it and nothing has come close since. It is incredibly romantic, but with a rugged man’s man as the lead, it is funny yet underpinned by the most serious of historical contexts and just leaves you as the viewer as satisfied as by a five course meal. Perfect in every way.
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