Saturday, April 22, 2006
Two reviews
This is a review of Red Eye.
What you see is what you get - Bunuel (Toronto, ON)
In these days of bloat, when most films are two hours and longer - and feel like it - it is a pleasure to see a movie that's 88 minutes long, as this one is. There is nothing extraneous here. There's a story to be told - a pretty straightforward story - and told it is. Character development is unnecessary: there's a woman in distress, and a bad guy. What more do you need to know?
The proceedings are choreographed professionally by Wes Craven. Rachel McAdams is appealing as the heroine, and Cillian Murphy is terrific as the very stubborn villain. Brian Cox, as McAdams's dad, looks bored.
A B-movie feelng does cling to this effort, though. Perhaps it is that lack of depth that moves the story along that also diminishes the over-all effect. Certain scenes seem perfunctory and casual. And, as is often the case with such scripts, the bad guy is much more sympathetic and interesting than the person to be saved. (I don't mean McAdams, but the Director of Homeland Security.)
So, get out the popcorn, moderate your expectations, and enjoy.
And this is a review of Next Stop, Greenwich Village.
Amarcord it's not - Bunuel (Toronto, ON)
Paul Mazursky is an interesting auteur. He made some excellent movies - chiefly An Unmarried Woman - and also a lot of crap. I'm afraid this movie - despite its reputation with some critics and its popularity in France and Argentina - falls a lot closer to the latter category than the former. (Why movies by New York Jewish intellectuals are so popular in those two countries is a matter that should be investigated, but I do not have the space here.)
It's not that this movie is bad, as that it's just not very interesting. Personally, I never felt engaged by the people involved. Considering that I have a fair bit in common with the coming-of-age hero, Larry Lapinsky, I think that tells you a lot. Lenny Baker tries very hard as Larry. Too hard, and that's a big part of the problem. I found him almost completely charmless. Shelley Winters, doing her patented over the moon Jewish mother routine, is way too much. Which is a pity, because in the final scene when she reins it in, she shows that she's a fine actress. That scene, and another when she and Larry's father arrive unannounced at a wild party at Larry's tiny apartment and she dances with the gay black friend - to Larry's chagrin - are the only ones that came alive for me.
Mike Kellin, as the father, was very good. The real treat, though, was Chris Walken as an egotistical writer. His performance is almost entirely lacking the mannerisms for which he has become infamous. Stripped down, he's an excellent actor.
The best thing about this movie is the soundtrack music of the Dave Brubeck Quartet, from the "Time Out" album. I think it's worth noting that while the movie is set in 1953 Greenwich Village, this famous album was not recorded until 1959; and that Brubeck and sax player Paul Desmond are associated with the West Coast jazz sound. So much for authenticity.
The commentary by Mazursky is more interesting than the movie, although it was obviously recorded at more than one sitting, with the result that he repeats himself several times. (He was 74 at the time, so he can be forgiven.) The references to Fellini are unfortunate. Sorry, Paul, you ain't Fellini, and this movie ain't Amarcord, not by a long shot. Ellen Greene, who plays Sarah, Larry's girlfriend, is way too earnest and pleased with herself. That's the trouble with these commentaries, isn't it? The participants always have a terribly inflated opinion both of the movie and of their participation in it.
What you see is what you get - Bunuel (Toronto, ON)
In these days of bloat, when most films are two hours and longer - and feel like it - it is a pleasure to see a movie that's 88 minutes long, as this one is. There is nothing extraneous here. There's a story to be told - a pretty straightforward story - and told it is. Character development is unnecessary: there's a woman in distress, and a bad guy. What more do you need to know?
The proceedings are choreographed professionally by Wes Craven. Rachel McAdams is appealing as the heroine, and Cillian Murphy is terrific as the very stubborn villain. Brian Cox, as McAdams's dad, looks bored.
A B-movie feelng does cling to this effort, though. Perhaps it is that lack of depth that moves the story along that also diminishes the over-all effect. Certain scenes seem perfunctory and casual. And, as is often the case with such scripts, the bad guy is much more sympathetic and interesting than the person to be saved. (I don't mean McAdams, but the Director of Homeland Security.)
So, get out the popcorn, moderate your expectations, and enjoy.
And this is a review of Next Stop, Greenwich Village.
Amarcord it's not - Bunuel (Toronto, ON)
Paul Mazursky is an interesting auteur. He made some excellent movies - chiefly An Unmarried Woman - and also a lot of crap. I'm afraid this movie - despite its reputation with some critics and its popularity in France and Argentina - falls a lot closer to the latter category than the former. (Why movies by New York Jewish intellectuals are so popular in those two countries is a matter that should be investigated, but I do not have the space here.)
It's not that this movie is bad, as that it's just not very interesting. Personally, I never felt engaged by the people involved. Considering that I have a fair bit in common with the coming-of-age hero, Larry Lapinsky, I think that tells you a lot. Lenny Baker tries very hard as Larry. Too hard, and that's a big part of the problem. I found him almost completely charmless. Shelley Winters, doing her patented over the moon Jewish mother routine, is way too much. Which is a pity, because in the final scene when she reins it in, she shows that she's a fine actress. That scene, and another when she and Larry's father arrive unannounced at a wild party at Larry's tiny apartment and she dances with the gay black friend - to Larry's chagrin - are the only ones that came alive for me.
Mike Kellin, as the father, was very good. The real treat, though, was Chris Walken as an egotistical writer. His performance is almost entirely lacking the mannerisms for which he has become infamous. Stripped down, he's an excellent actor.
The best thing about this movie is the soundtrack music of the Dave Brubeck Quartet, from the "Time Out" album. I think it's worth noting that while the movie is set in 1953 Greenwich Village, this famous album was not recorded until 1959; and that Brubeck and sax player Paul Desmond are associated with the West Coast jazz sound. So much for authenticity.
The commentary by Mazursky is more interesting than the movie, although it was obviously recorded at more than one sitting, with the result that he repeats himself several times. (He was 74 at the time, so he can be forgiven.) The references to Fellini are unfortunate. Sorry, Paul, you ain't Fellini, and this movie ain't Amarcord, not by a long shot. Ellen Greene, who plays Sarah, Larry's girlfriend, is way too earnest and pleased with herself. That's the trouble with these commentaries, isn't it? The participants always have a terribly inflated opinion both of the movie and of their participation in it.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Lemmy outta here
Herewith my Zip.ca review of Alphaville. According to the IMDb, the working title was Tarzan v. IBM and the "informal title" was Dick Tracy on Mars. I think a better title might have been I Have My Head Up My Ass. Incidentally, the production values in this movie are terrible.
Written on a toilet seat - Bunuel (Toronto, ON)
Is this the most ridiculous movie ever? No, that honour probably belongs to The Fifth Element; but Luc Besson's godfather is Jean-Luc Godard. This is a mish-mosh of intellectual pretension that only a Frenchman could come up with. To its credit, there is a certain visual style, and some occasional moments of intentional humour. These are outweighed by the unintentional humour of what is supposed to be beautiful or profound poetry, and the leaden presentation of the dystopic theme. Godard has managed to bamboozle the art film crowd more thoroughly than anyone in history - this movie is just one of a number of his intellectual frauds.
We can only be thankful that the DVD does not include any comment.
Written on a toilet seat - Bunuel (Toronto, ON)
Is this the most ridiculous movie ever? No, that honour probably belongs to The Fifth Element; but Luc Besson's godfather is Jean-Luc Godard. This is a mish-mosh of intellectual pretension that only a Frenchman could come up with. To its credit, there is a certain visual style, and some occasional moments of intentional humour. These are outweighed by the unintentional humour of what is supposed to be beautiful or profound poetry, and the leaden presentation of the dystopic theme. Godard has managed to bamboozle the art film crowd more thoroughly than anyone in history - this movie is just one of a number of his intellectual frauds.
We can only be thankful that the DVD does not include any comment.
Monday, April 10, 2006
When Hippies Were in Flower
This is my Zip.ca review of Alice's Restaurant. The title, by the way, refers to the McGill Red & White Revue of 1968, which was sort of a "Hair" rip-off. I had a small role in the chorus.
I find it odd that this movie is categorized as a comedy. Although there are some funny moments - particularly in the scene at the draft board, especially Arlo's banishment to Group W for the crime of littering - this film is definitely more bitter than sweet.
What I found particularly interesting is that the pervading elegiac tone was there from the beginning. I saw this movie when it came out in 1969 and found it sad then. It's still sad. Consider that the movie ends with a wedding, but is preceded by a funeral and a death. And the beautiful, lingering final shot of Alice after her church wedding shows her to be decidedly less than thrilled.
The movie is based, of course, on the legendary Arlo Guthrie folk song, "The Alice's Restaurant Massacree", which tells the story of how he was rejected by the U.S. Army because he disposed of some garbage by the side of the road. It's a wistful and funny song, and an effective protest against the War - that's the Vietnam War for you young'ns. And the essence of these two incidents is retained in the movie.
But director Arthur Penn and screenwriter Venable Herndon make this plot secondary to the story of Ray and Alice, who are both surrogate parents for Arlo and other hippies, and themselves sort of hippies manqué. They also add a character who did not exist, a young man named Shelly who is trying to kick his heroin habit and who has a brief affair with Alice.
The overwhelming tone of the movie is one of regret: regret for the lost sense of community that existed briefly in the United States when Arlo's father Woody raised the spirit of the Depression poor; regret for the evanescence and perhaps unreality of the feeling of community that hippies and progressives longed for in the 60s; and regret for the squandered lives of young people lost in the changes of that time.
In its quiet, slow, and subtle way, this is a very moving film.
One small note: I remembered the sex scene between Alice and Shelly being much hotter than what appeared here. The DVD claims to be the "never before seen R-rated version, so I am puzzled. As for the 2001 commentary by Arlo, I only listened to about the first 10 or 15 minutes. He's an amiable and rather simple fellow, much as he was 30 years earlier; but he doesn't have much to say.
I find it odd that this movie is categorized as a comedy. Although there are some funny moments - particularly in the scene at the draft board, especially Arlo's banishment to Group W for the crime of littering - this film is definitely more bitter than sweet.
What I found particularly interesting is that the pervading elegiac tone was there from the beginning. I saw this movie when it came out in 1969 and found it sad then. It's still sad. Consider that the movie ends with a wedding, but is preceded by a funeral and a death. And the beautiful, lingering final shot of Alice after her church wedding shows her to be decidedly less than thrilled.
The movie is based, of course, on the legendary Arlo Guthrie folk song, "The Alice's Restaurant Massacree", which tells the story of how he was rejected by the U.S. Army because he disposed of some garbage by the side of the road. It's a wistful and funny song, and an effective protest against the War - that's the Vietnam War for you young'ns. And the essence of these two incidents is retained in the movie.
But director Arthur Penn and screenwriter Venable Herndon make this plot secondary to the story of Ray and Alice, who are both surrogate parents for Arlo and other hippies, and themselves sort of hippies manqué. They also add a character who did not exist, a young man named Shelly who is trying to kick his heroin habit and who has a brief affair with Alice.
The overwhelming tone of the movie is one of regret: regret for the lost sense of community that existed briefly in the United States when Arlo's father Woody raised the spirit of the Depression poor; regret for the evanescence and perhaps unreality of the feeling of community that hippies and progressives longed for in the 60s; and regret for the squandered lives of young people lost in the changes of that time.
In its quiet, slow, and subtle way, this is a very moving film.
One small note: I remembered the sex scene between Alice and Shelly being much hotter than what appeared here. The DVD claims to be the "never before seen R-rated version, so I am puzzled. As for the 2001 commentary by Arlo, I only listened to about the first 10 or 15 minutes. He's an amiable and rather simple fellow, much as he was 30 years earlier; but he doesn't have much to say.
