Movie Tab II

Shame you didn't like The Water Diviner more. It had some cliched plot points, but I really enjoyed it.

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My Winnipeg (Guy Maddin, 2008)

Note: This is much funnier than Borat, even if I thought that was funny.

There is little doubt in my mind that this is one of the most original and audacious films to come down the [Holden] pike in many a year. It does remind me of various David Lynch films, especially Eraserhead and The Elephant Man, as well as Lars von Trier's Europa, aka Zentropa, but this film is far more unique and cinematic than all of those combined. Guy Maddin, that wonderfully-idiosyncratic Manitoban filmmaker, has never left his beloved and dreaded hometown of Winnipeg, at least if you believe this movie which is a hoot-and-a-half pseudo-documentary about everything good and bad in Winnipeg's history and everything it made Maddin come to believe about himself which he claims was fully formed by the city in "the heart of the heart of the continent". This film is difficult to review because to give away any of its offbeat charm and wacko humor would be completely unthinkable. Needless to say, of all the Maddin flicks I've seen thus far, this is easily the most-entertaining, the most-cinematic and the most-personal.

That lump under the rug on the floor is the remains of Guy's Dad's dead body... but I can't go into that anymore. However, I think it's fair to say that Maddin is obsessed with Winnipeg's "forks, laps and fur", as well as the way the city's hockey history transformed from "old-time hockey" to NHL heathenism to the fact that one of Winnipeg's only growth industries is demolition. Maddin feels gleefully free to share his traumatic and intense sexual experiences, whether concerning young teenage girl "whores" during a Communist march or the man-sweat of a certain hockey legend whose jersey he "adopted" to shoot "homoerotic slapshots" in.

It's difficult, as I said, to add any more, even though narrator Maddin piles on with info about streets which "aren't even allowed to be on the regular maps" and dueling cab companies. When Maddin decides to get into the city's old swimming pools, all three of them, each closer to Hell (or the "forks under the forks") than the last one, you just might lose your lunch as you come to understand how sexually-debauched Winnipeg "truly" is. I recommend this film wholeheartedly, especially as a brand old seemingly-bizarre filmmaking style which is as entertaining and inviting as anything connoting that dirty word, "commercial".

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It's what you learn after you know it all that counts. - John Wooden
My IMDb page

Doubt (John Patrick Shanley, 2008)

Doubt is set in 1964, but you can easily tell that it deals with the Catholic Church's still-current bane of how priests can possibly be guilty of child molestation, even though now we can see it in retrospect as a horrible crime-within-a-crime which hardly anyone back then would notice, except perhaps for Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep), an old-fashioned Principal-Nun who may very well have, rightly or wrongly, dealt with many abusing priests down through the years. This time, she has to deal with Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who "seems" to be paying too much attention to a certain young student, but is his attention "immorally-criminal" or is it just somehow questionable in front of a nun who sees everything in the worst possible light? The film presents things even-handedly, and even if you are 100% sure that things are a certain way, you could very well be wrong because the script and direction are so sharp. This is an ensemble film, so all the supporting performances are just as important as the leads, and besides that, this film leads all films this year with FOUR acting nominations.

Amy Adams plays a complex part where she sees almost everything from both perspectives. She can be turned by both lead characters depending on what she learns and feels, but in general, she looks on the bright side of people. Viola Davis plays the mom of the possibly-abused boy in question, and she looks at things from the perspective of just letting her boy survive this school year to qualify for a better, non-Catholic school the next year. Maybe she thinks he's getting too much "love and attention" from the priest but she feels it's OK as a form of recompense because the boy's father is already beating him because he has a feeling that his son may very well be gay. Doubt is not all black-and-white in its depiction of what happens at this church and school. In fact, when Meryl Streep's character breaks down at the end, it really makes you think that she knows nothing at all and has been laying her own "guilt trip" on potentially-innocent priests all along. Then again, maybe not...

I haven't seen Doubt yet. I wanted to when it came out and then just forgot about it.

I really liked Doubt at the time. I need to see it again. One of those movies that has just left me.

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Letterboxd

I love both of these, mark f, and of course I didn't find My Winnipeg funny, but I'm a pretty boring guy. :P I remember it being an incredibly atmospheric piece. I was almost mad at Maddin that he chose to include these color images of the hockey hall and consider the whole hockey part to be the least interesting. I wish the film had more Nazi bs put into it so it becomes just like Archangel (and The Saddest Music in the World, etc. - quite a trademark for Maddin, I'd say). I enjoyed the old woman (She was to play his mother, right?) thing and all this reconstruction attempts and I appreciate his attempts at (black?) comedy, but for me the best things about his films are cinematography and atmosphere. For example, you can't really care that much about what's happening in Archangel (yeah, the story itself is pretty straightforward, anyway) when you have this marvelous von Sternberg-esque cinematography. It feels like you're watching a sequel to The Last Command directed by drunk contemporary Sternberg.

I've seen some other films by Maddin, too, but the one I cried on was My Dad Is 100 Years Old. I'm not sure if the best, but without a doubt the one that moved me the most. I'm so glad there's still so many films of his I've yet to see. However, Twilight of the Ice Nymphs is one I didn't like that much. I mean, it's still good, feels like Shakespeare directed by Tolkien, but visually it's no longer a tribute to silent cinema, but a tribute to... I don't really know what! Hollywood Technicolor adventure films of the 50's?! Still cool, but Maddin is best at incorporating silent cinema aesthetics to contemporary films&ideas.

Oh, and all of his shorts are must see, too. Like:

Which is incredibly beautiful purely on the visual level, or:

Which always (seen it a couple of times) strucks me with its sheer power built almost entirely on cinematography & montage (Soviet montage theory!). The ostensibly nonsensical plot (Aelita, the Queen of Mars, anyone?) plot reveals itself quite slow for a movie with such an incredible pace, but the final message is the most powerful I could've ever imagined with that "KINO" intertitle literally exploding on the screen. Not without help is Georgy Sviridov's composition Time, Forward! originally composed for a Soviet film I haven't yet seen, reused here in all its glory makes for a perfect (seriously I can't think of any better for this film) soundtrack.

This guy is crazy with his homages. He didn't only make the best tribute to silent cinema ever, but also a weird tribute to... Kenneth Anger (I guess?!) called The Little White Cloud That Cried. Some really gay stuff with penises on the screen and what's even worse men are disguised as women and one can think it's a woman until sees penis. Terrible stuff (for non-gays who thought these are women xDDD), but total eye-candy visual-wise (can't remember the audio, but my guess was Angeresque classic 50's tune soundtrack, which rocks!).

Doubt is great.

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/watching movies for mark f/
MovieMeditation's Cinema Reviews // Film Diary 2015 // Letterboxd Profile // MovieMeditation's Top 50 Horror

The City of the Dead aka Horror Hotel (John Moxey, 1960)

When my brother and I used to watch this minor horror classic on TV, it was called Horror Hotel. It was always a cool flick for us to watch because it had some stark, spooky photography for many of the indoor scenes, but then it would get all graphic with bodies bursting into flames while trying to commit a ritualistic female sacrifice in a graveyard on the Witch's Sabbath. The Dead mentioned in the original title are witches who were true worshippers of Satan in Whitewood, Massachusetts in 1692. While being burned at the stake, self-confessed witch Elizabeth Selwyn (Patricia Jessel) curses the townspeople, and as a result, all the "dead" witches are given eternal life by Satan as long as they worship him and perform two sacrifices a year.

The modern day plot involves college professor Christopher Lee recommending that his student Nan (Venetia Stevenson) spend her holidays researching witches in Whitewood, and even though her brother and boyfriend don't like the idea, she drives to the remote, fog-shrouded town. Upon arrival, she finds everything spooky and almost inexplicable, but she does meet one seeemingly-normal woman, Patricia (Betta St, John), who lends her an in-depth book on witches. The plot doesn't really hold any surprises, but there are still plenty of frissons on display. The hotel where Nan stays is menacing in the way that people and strange sounds seem to come and go instantaneously. Plus there are rarely any lights on, but the fireplace always casts dreaded shadows across the rooms. Then there are the actual buildups to the sacrifices presented in the film, and they deliver the goods. The film is just a bit short and repeats a few motifs (especially the fog and the guy who gives everybody directions to the Inn) to qualify as a full-blown classic. Lovers of black-and-white Mario Bava will want to check this out though, and anybody who enjoys "old-time" horror should probably raise my rating by a half-to-a-full popcorn box.

A Taste of Honey (Tony Richardson, 1961)

This is a touching, kitchen-sink, coming-of-age/ugly duckling story decked out in jazzy undertones by director Richardson and music composer John Addison. Rita Tushingham is wonderful in her debut as Jo, the teenage Manchester school girl who's never felt love from her oversexed mom (Dora Bryan). When she is ditched by her mom and her mom's latest younger lover (Robert Stephens), Jo heads back home where she encounters her "sorta boyfriend", black sailor Jimmy (Paul Danquah), and the two make love. Jo's mom subsequently moves out of the home, and Jimmy's ship leaves Manchester.

Jo goes to work at a shoe store and gets her own flat, but pretty soon, she finds that she's pregnant. Geoffrey (Murray Melvin), the young man who buys her first pair of shoes sold, becomes her pal, and even after Jo learns he's gay and he learns that she's pregnant, Geoffrey moves in with her and helps her by cooking and cleaning around the house. Jo begins to wonder if she should keep her baby, but Geoffrey volunteers to be her child's father and stay with her. Eventually Jo's selfish mom turns up again to complicate matters.

The most memorable things about the film to me are Rita Tushingham's big eyes. She seems to be a soul who has much to offer but has never found any way to channel it to her satisfaction. Most all of the acting is first-rate, including Dora Bryan's hateful mother who takes up with and gets dumped by a new man every year. Murray Melvin is equally fine conveying both shyness and true humanity. The script by playwright Shelagh Delaney and Richardson is equal parts comedy and drama, while Richardson uses an impressionistic visual-and-cutting technique which can occasionally romanticize the drab Manchester setting. It certainly doesn't sentimentalize anything, but Addison's playful music does seem to make the harsh truths the film offers a little easier to take in. This is still one of the better British films of the early '60s.

Doubt is pretty decent.

Platinum Blonde (Frank Capra, 1931)



Before Frank Capra became Hollywood's most-popular filmmaker in the mid-1930s, he was already one of its hardest-working. From 1926 through 1931, Capra directed 18 feature films, 16 for Columbia Pictures. This is one of the best-known from that era, mainly because of co-star Jean Harlow's rising star, but it's actually more interesting for the presence of leading man Robert Williams. What? You say you've never heard of him? That's probably true but unfortunate. Robert Williams died of peritonitis three days after the release of this film, but his offbeat charm will always be present in this cute Pre-Code film.

The plot involves a newspaper reporter named Smith (Williams) who often works with Gallagher (Loretta Young), who secretly loves him. One day, Smith is assigned to cover a scandal involving a high-class society family's son, and he successfully gets the dirt by using his "reporting skills". The upshot of this is that he attracts the attention of the family's beautiful blonde daughter Anne (Jean Harlow) who begins to fall for him when he helps to quash the blackmail scheme involving her brother. They secretly marry and a battle of wills ensues involving who will bend more to the other's desire in sharing their lives. The film is pretty good but not really up to the level which Capra maintained from 1933 through 1948. From watching this movie, it's difficult to tell how much of the Smith character is acting and how much is Williams' personality, but whatever it is, it's worth checking out. Not to turn this movie into a total downer, but Harlow also died, only six years later, due to uremic poisoning.

Lifeboat (Alfred Hitchcock, 1944)

Lifeboat begins in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, just after a freighter is sunk by and in turn sinks a German U-Boat. The only survivor in the lifeboat is spoiled foreign correspondent Connie (Tallulah Bankhead) who is typing a story about the incident, but slowly, more survivors come across and into the lifeboat, and all but one is from the sunken freighter. The last survivor is Willy (Walter Slezak), a German from the U-Boat. The survivors make up a cross section of ethnicities, so the film turns into an interesting character study centering around the ethics of class and war. Willy turns out to be the most-knowledgeable seaman aboard, and reluctantly the others allow him to take charge of setting a heading for Bermuda.

Hitchcock uses John Steinbeck's story as a showcase for him to make one of his patented claustrophobic, one-set films. (Others he would later make include Rope, Dial M For Murder and Rear Window.) Hitch builds suspense by showing the dangers of the sea (weather, sharks) and by the fact that there is just not enough food or water for everyone to be able to survive the long voyage to Bermuda. One by one, each character has a big scene, but Willy seems to just be stronger and brighter than the other characters. It's this last point which caused a backlash against the film. Even though Lifeboat was released to critical praise and big box office in its limited opening engagements, after a brief time, a few columnists decided that somehow the film celebrated the Nazi "Superman", and 20th Century Fox chief Darryl Zanuck decided to not fully release the film due to fear of it sullying his reputation. That's actually pretty shocking because you don't especially consider the WWII era as some kind of "politically-correct" age, and Lifeboat, after all, is a gung-ho, pro-Allies film.

The Wrestler (Darren Aranofsky, 2008)

This is another character study, and who would have thought that the world of wrestling would provide such believable characters? I haven't really paid attention to wrestling since the 1970s, but the first two bouts in this film do provide the goods as far as both the violence (which seems to get mentioned a lot here) and especially the humor. These bouts are downright funny, and that was the main draw for watching wrestling when I was a kid anyway. I just thought is was really funny to see people "sneak up" on somebody or see the referees get creamed. Anyway, I should leave my personal anecdote aside and address Aranofsky's newest film. I believe everybody knows it involves an aging wrestler (Mickey Rourke) who is nearing the end of the line and is trying to find some semblance of normal life by romancing a stripper (Marisa Tomei) and making amends to his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood). The wrestler's other problems involve having financial problems and then learning that he has extreme health problems which will keep him from ever entering the ring again.

The Wrestler didn't really draw me in with the opening scenes because Aranofsky used the camera technique pioneered recently by the Dardenne brothers of following close behind the protagonist and following wherever he goes. I realize that it's meant to make the viewer feel inside the world of the character, but it often seems a substitute for having to actually focus on the character's face to not only see the world he sees but to see it reflected through his own eyes. (Besides, Dardenne brothers' movies seem to spend half of their time focusing on "walking around"; if I wanted to put the viewer into somebody's world, I'd use subjective camera rather than this stalker stuff.) Anyway, once the camera started to actually focus on the characters' faces, I felt more empathy for them and they came alive. There is a lot of unspoken life in all the characters' actions and reactions and it gives The Wrestler its quiet power. I liked all three main performances, even if I didn't fully understand their exact life situations, I could believe in them more than some of my own friends and family because sometimes it's really difficult to crack through the outer shells of those you "know". Mickey Rourke nails his role because you can see that he's made a lot of mistakes and he wants to make amends, but he just really has no experience at living any kind of "normal" life. All he knows is the life of a loner wrestler, and although he enjoys the camraderie and the notoriety, he realizes it will never make him a whole man.

Nothing But the Night (Peter Sasdy, 1973)

This is the umpteenth teaming of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, and it was actually made under the banner of Lee's own production company. It's an offbeat and relatively well-made mystery about a strange little girl who seems to have memories of an accident which don't correlate to the physical evidence concerning the event. She also lives at an orphan home on a remote island, and the trustees of that home have been dying under mysterious circumstances lately, leading a retired policeman (Lee) to enlist the aid of his doctor friend (Cushing) in helping him try to prove there is a murderous conspiracy afoot. Although there are many more details and characters, they're not especially worth mentioning right now. The first half of the film takes place in an urban hospital and the second half is set on that island orphanage. There is a big "plot twist" at the end which is OK, but the chief problem with the film is that it has an underdeveloped script. Director Sasdy uses lots of location work to try to disguise the fact that the film is repetitious and drawn out. As it is, it would have worked better as a "Twilight Zone" episode, albeit a rather weak one. It does have some unintentional humor near the end when the girl's mother (Diana Dors) seems to spend an eternity creeping and crawling around the island trying to get to her daughter, apparently just to pad out the running time. It's not really all that bad, but it's not exactly a horror film; at least not compared to something like Rosemary's Baby.

Appaloosa (Ed Harris, 2008)

Set in the town of Appaloosa in the New Mexico Territory in 1882, this film tells how two friends and itinerant lawmen come to to help the town bring to justice the rich local rancher (Jeremy Irons) who had three lawmen killed. Virgil (Ed Harris) takes on the marshall job and Everett (Viggo Mortensen) works as his deputy. The two eventually bring the rancher to trial, but even though he's convicted and sentenced to hang, he's able to "beat the rap". During this time, both lawmen carry on romances of a sort, but it's not clear if these are conducive with bringing down their adversary. Eight years after his decent directorial debut Pollock, Ed Harris returns with a strange, enervating western. I found some of the film slipshod and lazy (especially the opening scene which set a bad tone for me), even though the characters played by Harris and Mortensen are both really quirky and therefore interesting. It's just that most of the other characters and the "plot" seem generic and almost pointless. I mean, there are a few other offbeat characters, but it really rambles on and on to a totally predictable conclusion. Too bad.

Grand Central Murder (S. Sylvan Simon, 1942)

This is a "second feature" which packs more wit, entertainment and dexterity than most first features of the era. It begins with the a full open throttle, detailing a prisoner escape from a train at Grand Central Station in NYC, a threatening phone call to a Broadway actress, a murder, several mysterious characters, and the rounding up of suspects by the inspector (Sam Levene) in charge of the case, and that's all in the first 15 minutes! It reminds me of Murder on the Orient Express played out in reverse and twice as fast, even if it's only really half as good. Van Heflin (fresh from his Johnny Eager Oscar) shines as a private detective suspect who's probably twice as smart as all the other characters combined, but it's also really nice to see solid contributons by Tom Conway, Virginia Grey, Millard Mitchell, Connie Gilchrist, Stephen McNally, Samuel S. Hinds, and Levene.

Charlie Wilson's War (Mike Nichols, 2007)

"Based on a true story", Charlie Wilson's War is a more modern entertainment, but it kept me satisfied, and I laughed out loud several times, especially from the lines and character portrayed by Oscar-nomineed Philip Seymour Hoffman. It tells the story of a divorced party animal Texas congressman, Charlie Wilson (Tom Hanks), who iis manipulated by a fellow Texan/rich socialite (Julia Roberts) into using his positions on two key committees to try to help the Afghan people in their fight against the Soviet invasion during the Reagan presidency. I don't want to go into the nuts and bolts (at least, according to the film), but the other main character is a CIA operative who feels underappreciated because he speaks his mind, and he's played brilliantly by Hoffman, who's reminiscent of the Van Heflin character in my earlier review because he seems twice as smart as all the characters he encounters.

I find the film to be mostly a comedic satire, but there are certainly dramatic interludes and a conclusion which tries to connect what the U.S. successfully did covertly in Afghanistan 20 years ago with why that country became a hotbed of terrorist activity pre-9/11. The connection is perhaps obvious in retrospect, but seems to be something tacked on to the gist of the story, although it certainly fuels the film's final five minutes. While Hoffman takes the acting honors, I found Hanks believable and Roberts mysterious, so I guess I don't really have many problems with the acting, although I never really got into Roberts' head, although maybe the fact that both the Hanks and Roberts characters are Texans may again refer ironically to the then current President.

When you say "second feature", does that mean it was released as part of a double bill?

The Seventh Victim (Mark Robson, 1943)

Low-key, low-budget Val Lewton production containing a few creepy and terrifying scenes. This one involves the exotic, missing older sister Jacqueline (Jean Brooks) of young Mary (Kim Hunter, in her debut), who's away at a private school when she learns that Jacqueline has disappeared in NYC's Greenwich Village. Mary encounters several characters and even momentarily finds her sister, but in the process, she becomes embroiled with Satan worshippers. Yes, in some ways, this film is a predecessor of Rosemary's Baby AND Psycho to boot! One of the most memorable scenes involves Mary taking a shower while someone enters the bathroom. A strange shadow is cast over the shower curtain and an important character tells Mary not to look anymore for her sister. It's a total trip, and a one-of-a-kind scene. Other freaky scenes include the one where a private investigator walks down a spooky hallway and the actual ending occurs quickly and prophetically.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (Robert Ellis Miller, 1968)

This is a simple, yet heartfelt and powerful adaptation of Carson McCullers' autobiographical novel. The central character of the film is a deaf mute named John Singer, played perfectly by Alan Arkin. The setting is the Southern U.S., brought up to date in the 1960s. (Carson McCullers died before this film was released, and the actual time frame was probably the 1930s, but updating it makes it work just as fine.) Singer has a best friend (Chuck McCann), who's also a deaf mute, but he's constantly getting into trouble, so he's committed by his uncle and sent to an asylum. Singer moves to be closer to his friend and finds a room in the home of Mick (the wonderful Sondra Locke, ostensibly playing McCullers). One of the strengths of the film is that it shows all of its characters to be blind, deaf and dumb in various ways, so the fact that Singer isn't "blind" puts him one up on most of the characters.

There are several other significant characters, including Mick's mom, pop and younger brothers, as well as an African-American family, consisting of a doctor (Percy Rodrigues) who has feared and hated Whites all his life, his daughter (Cicely Tyson) who has a major chip on her shoulder concerning her dad, and her new husband (Johnny Popwell). Although I enjoy most all the characters, my favorite may well be the drunk Blount (Stacy Keach) who's able to recognize his defects and keeps trying to improve himself, but the world he sees is just too painful and antagonistic to give into wholeheartedly. (I see myself as the Stacy Keach character, even though my wife and daughter have saved me and are continuing to try.) The film is very life-affirming, yet equally tragic. It does remind me in many ways of director Miller's other "best" film, Reuben, Reuben. I highly recommend it, especially for those who think that Sondra Locke never had any talent.