Manic Depression

My Man Godfrey

(1936)

Here's a thought: film festivals featuring great character actors. For example, how about a Eugene Pallette festival featuring this, Topper, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and The Lady Eve? Nothing like the lineup Thomas Mitchell could come up with (well, something like it, since Mr. Smith would fit there, too), but not bad.

Under my skin

Vertigo

(1958)

How differently this story could have played out had Scottie (James Stewart) had a pal played by William Demarest to tell him, of Madeleine/Judy (Kim Novak), "It's the same dame!"

Bane Capital

The Dark Knight Rises

Crit

Seriously, have I just lost the ability to enjoy a well-made comic-book action flick? 'Cause I was way bored here: grotesquely bland villain, who wears Hannibal Lecter-style headgear and but nothing but punch really hard and take a punch, and a plot so baroque that I came really close to forgetting that Batman was in the story. I will admit that Anne Hathaway looks terrific in spandex, and whoever did her her stunts has kickass moves. Oh, and as always, there are some really cool Battoys, especially the bike out of which Hathaway's Catwoman gets most of the mileage.

But the one thing that's genuinely interesting is the pessimistic take on the Occupy movement that the screenplay by Nolans Jonathan and Christopher presents. Granted, it's exhilarating to see the NY-- oops, excuse me: the GCSE trashed, but Occupy gone rogue looks suspiciously like Bolshevism circa 1917 or Robespierreism circa 1794. Then again, there has never been much room for faith in humanity in Gotham City.

Oh, and while this may wrap up a trilogy directed by Nolan senior, the conclusion fairly screams that the story will continue, with Joseph Gordon-Levitt if not with Christian Bale (though it would be kind of a shame not to follow Bale & Hathaway farther--hell, she actually almost gets him to animate!).

Trailers

• The Expendables 2--Oh, please.
• Jack Reacher--I don't think so.
• Django Unchained--Now that's what I'm talkin' about! The D is silent.

Simoom

The English Patient

(1996)

OK, I've seen enough of that--who wants my copy? Oh, it's beautiful, full of beautiful people (this was the first times I was really aware of Kristin Scott Thomas, for example, and I've been in love ever since) and beautiful sand, but at bottom it's thoroughly formulaic and sentimental.

As sure as the turning of the earth

The Searchers

(1956)

If you want to read me being all politically analytical, click the title through to the review two previous, but tonight I'm just in awe of how good this film looks and how complex is its morality and how good the Duke is in it.

Chicken or egg

Take This Waltz

Crit

OK, Sarah Polley is 1 for 2 as a director, which isn't bad for a 33-year-old, but she owes us one after this. Life, literature, and country music have led me to believe that the phenomenon of divided love is not uncommon, but Polley (who also wrote the screenplay) here portrays it as a function of infantilism.

Margot (Michelle Williams) and Lou (Seth Rogen) are a 28-year-old couple married 5 years, and they are in love, which they demonstrate via an amorous idiom of juvenile violence, which is about 1 part charming to 9 parts annoying. Then Daniel (Luke Kirby) shows up across the street, and Margot falls in love, ruling the affair as if it's OK to make it as sexual as possible (a verbal ravishing by Daniel is one scene that does work) without touching. I wouldn't have thought it possible to be so enraged by a character played by Williams, but it is so.

Then, once the inevitable happens, Polley misses a chance to cut her losses and instead gives us another 20 minutes of of life going on, mostly unsurprisingly.

Gotta dance

Singin' in the Rain

(1952)

Have I ever mentioned (yeah, I see that I have, but it's such a shameful confession that it bears repeating) that I used to find the Broadway Melody Ballet sorta boring, and I didn't find Cyd Charisse sexy in it? But I was so much older then; I'm younger than that now.

I expected that what would most resonate with me post-working-on-a-movie-set would be the sequence of efforts to get the sound recording to work (and while watching it I certainly did hear echoes of Sean Whitsitt cautioning actors to avoid random surprisingly noisy activities), but in fact the bit that most gave me the Scary Normal feel was when Don (Gene Kelly) takes Kathy (Debbie Reynolds) into the sound stage, produces a beautiful fake sunset and an enchanting fake breeze, and sings "You Were Meant for Me." Yes! Fake beauty! What's wrong with that?!

Nobody nose

Sleeper

(1973)

The concept is clever, the execution of that concept is OK, but the brilliance is provided by the rubber-limbed physical humor of a young Woody Allen, maybe his best extended slapstick performance ever.

Looking at you

Play It Again, Sam

(1972)

They're all so young, Woody and Diane and Tony Roberts and Susan Anspach. Allen had directed Take the Money and Run and Bananas and (sort of) What's Up, Tiger Lily?, but he was still best known as a comedian, and was still five years away from his first great film.

This one, directed by fellow Brooklynite Herbert Ross, is far from great, and its message--be yourself--could have come from a fortune cookie. Furthermore, there's one sequence guaranteed to make anyone with an ounce of sensitivity squirm over its 40-years-ago flip treatment of a subject few of us have a sense of humor about anymore, but what it does, it does well: show off Allen's comic chops and Keaton's equally difficult skills as lovely straightwoman.

Thwip!

The Amazing Spider-Man

Crit

Yeah, I know--but I hadn't been to any of the 3D summer blockbusters, and given the religious convictions of my youth--a strict Marvelite, with nothing but contempt for DC--it would be wrong for me the see the new Batman flick first.

Well, I liked some things: for example, that Peter Parker is science-savvy enough to develop his own web, and the delivery device thereon, in contrast to the first-generation Spidey films, in which the web-spurting is part of the mutation from his fateful spider bite. Andrew Garfield, though he must be close to 30 now, does the teenage angst bit pretty well. Occasionally the 3D enhanced the web-swinging thrills, though it struck me as a difference only in degree, not in kind, from the earlier films. And I liked that the adversary was the Lizard, who, if I'm not mistaken, was the first supervillain in Spidey's debut in Amazing Tales. Oh, and Stan Lee's cameo is terrific.

But mostly: feh. Godawful slow pace makes it seem as if the story is playing out in real time. Emma Stone contributes little but a pretty face. The involved backstory is completely unnecessary. It's always nice to see Campbell Scott and Embeth Davidtz, who (briefly) play his parents (with what seems like a pretty clear option for a sequel), but establishing an arachnid connection in Richard Parker's scientific research is just narrative clutter. And another thing: if a radioactive spider is good enough for the comic book, it should be good enough for the movies. Why does the spider have to be genetically manipulated some way? Bring back the mysterious mutative powers of radiation!

Trailers

• Here Comes the Boom--Another guy whose popularity I don't get: Kevin James.
• The Dark Knight Rises--Gee, looks kinda dark.
• Total Recall--Heavy doses of Minority Report and Blade Runner. Colin Farrell in the Ahnuld role.

Hill of beans

Casablanca

(1942)

So sleepy while watching this tonight--good thing I have it memorized. One thing that would be fun to do sometime would be to see how many songs on the soundtrack I actually recognize. But not this year.

Next time I say let's go someplace like Australia . . .

Savages

Crit

Much of what I liked about yesterday's film was its messiness, its asymmetry, its unpredictability. Oliver Stone's new one goes the opposite direction, with clockwork symmetry, neat plotlines, and, until a really cheesy gimmick at the end, a clear sense of where we're going next and where we'll finish up.

O[phelia] (Blake Lively) lives an idyllic California beach life with her bifurcated soul's two soulmates, Yinnish Iraq and Afghanistan vet Chon (Taylor Kitsch) and Yangish global philanthropist Ben (Aaron Johnson), who also love each other so are fine with sharing her. Their lavish lifestyle is supported by the victimless crime of growing and selling shitloads of awesome grass (none of the 3 willingly indulges in anything stronger throughout), and everything would be fine if the mean old Mexican drug cartels would just live and let live. But guess what: they don't.

As usual, Benicio Del Toro steals the show, as a very bad man, lieutenant to Salma Hayek's druglady.

Trailers

• The Man with the Iron Fists--Kung fu & Russell Crowe.
• The Odd Life of Timothy Green--Their son is a vegetable--no, really!
• The Bourne Legacy--Enter Jeremy Renner.

Nice pecs, Governor

The Terminator

(1984)

Worth keeping, I believe, if only to see Linda Hamilton's Sarah Connor evolve quickly from a soft, whiny little weak sister toward the ripped, titanium-tough warrior/mother of revolution of the one good sequel.

Note to Jen: an addition to your list of Kyles who aren't douches: Reese (Michael Biehn), who volunteers to come back from the future to save and (spoiler alert!) impregnate Sarah.

So this disc is not available for giveaway, but this is last call for the ones that are; speak now, or they go to the freebie table at work.

Aurochs in the Bathtub

Beasts of the Southern Wild

Crit

For the record, the aurochs was bovine, not porcine. But that's my only complaint about this odd, unpredictable film about an island downriver of New Orleans that was (and is) neglected far more than the city when the waters came (and come). One person with whom I saw it--who liked it a great deal--complained that director Benh Zeitlin made too much use of six-year-old Hushpuppy (Quvenzhané Wallis), and that may be a fair cop, but you can also understand why.

The whole cast--not a professional actor in the group, I believe--performs remarkably, none better than Dwight Henry as Hushpuppy's father, Wink. Per IMDb, Henry "owns and runs the Buttermilk Drop Bakery and Cafe in the Seventh Ward."

Dig we must

Fantastic Mr. Fox

(2009)

I discovered something terrible about my family recently: neither my daughter nor my granddaughter has seen this cussin' film! So I figured while I was buying a copy for Veronica, I needed to get one for me as well.

Visually stunning, warmly heartfelt, and just so cussin' smart. And it ends with my second-favorite supermarket dance number ever.

Suffer the children

Polisse

Crit

A cop flick like none you've ever seen, following the Parisian Child Protection Unit, serving young people neglected, exploited, and otherwise failed by the adults in their lives and their society at large. Episodic, elliptical, sometimes even disjointed, but never less than gripping, and often brutally painful to watch. Cowritten and directed by Maïwenn, who also plays a photojournalist assigned to document the unit's work who becomes personally involved. A tough, remarkable film.

Or are you just happy to see me?

Gun Crazy

(1950)

Sometimes, I suppose, a gun is just a gun, but certainly not in this delightfully Freudian noir. Bart (John Dall) fits the titular description, but Peggy (Peggy Cummins) embodies it, leading the gentle-souled marksman around by his firearm. Third act drags pretty miserably, but the first hour races toward the couple's inevitable disaster.

SPQR

To Rome with Love

Crit

This didn't make my face hurt from smiling so much, as did Midnight in Paris when I first saw it, but it made me smile plenty, and it made me hungrier to return to Rome again before I die than that film or Vicky Cristina Barcelona did for their titular cities.

Contrary to most critics, apparently, I liked the Alec Baldwin-Jesse Eisenberg story the best, partly because I like when Woody gives us ghosts or something like ghosts, and partly because, come on, Greta Gerwig and Ellen Page. Not that there's a story senza an engaging woman or two, and Penélope Cruz gives a bravura turn as a hooker.

But the most bella è Roma.

Trailers

• The Perks of Being a Wallflower--Nerdstory, seems notable mostly as a post-Potter breakout for Emma Watson.
• The Words--Another cross-chronological-parallel-love-stories story, with a plagiarism twist.
• Beasts of the Southern Wild--Oh, hell, yeah!
• Celeste and Jesse Forever--Exes as close friends? Implausible.

Macho macho men

Magic Mike

Crit

Ah, of all the things I love about the movies, maybe the best is that they take me somewhere I've never been and may never otherwise be--in this case, to a beefcake strip joint. And I gotta say, the stripping is good: sexy-funny, an eros firmly, you should pardon the expression, tongue in cheek. The only oddly straight-faced aspect is the emphatic heterosexuality, which is particularly odd given that the strippers often take the stage looking like Village People--and considering the story in today's Times today about the film's appeal for gay men.

It's an entertaining film, but ultimately a conventional one--the guy who thinks he has everything but is nothing without the love of a good woman.

Trailers

• The Apparition--Tagline: "Once you believe it, you die." Paranormal porn.
• The Watch--Bet this isn't as good as Attack the Block.
• For a Good Time Call . . . --More female empowerment via the sex industry, this time on the phone.
• Campaign--Wait, haven't we already seen Will Ferrell as a politician with no convictions?

Perforations

Your Sister's Sister

Crit

Yeah, we could make this one too--maybe we could make anything that has Mark Duplass in it. I mean, hell, anyone could make this: short opening party scene with maybe a dozen people, 2 or 3 with lines, then the entire film has 3 people in it, zero extras, and it's mostly in one location. Granted, it's a great location, a sprawling Pacific Northwest forest home, but it doesn't have to be that nice. You could definitely make this film for [mumble] thousand dollars, though granted not with Emily Blunt and Rosemarie DeWitt.

But I digress. It's a largely likable film, and if I had suspended a little more disbelief (seriously? they can all be happy with a solution that brings the eternal sore point into their midst forever?) and been a little more willing to accept pretty romcom conventional workings out, I'd have liked it largely. As is, the principals are engaging enough (though as I've mentioned before, I run hot & cold on Blunt, and here I was pretty lukewarm toward her) that I liked it pretty well. I can forgive the male-fantasy-of-sleeping-with-a-hot-lesbian bit because it goes so awkwardly and unsatisfactorily, though I can't be as tolerant of the tricking-the-vegan-into-eating-butter-as-a-funny-conspiratorial-joke bit.

Trailer

• Hyde Park on Hudson--Came in in the middle, but come on: Murray as FDR, Linney as his distant cousin and "confidante"? Oh, hell,yeah!

La femme du XXème

Midnight in Paris

(2011)

Having seen a candidate for my favorite film of 2012, and anticipating this year's Woody, which some are saying is better than last year's, I thought it was time to see whether this one holds up. Yes.

Lost in inner space

OC87: The Obsessive Compulsive, Major Depression, Bipolar, Asperger's Movie

Crit

Bud Clayman is about the most appealing struggler with mental illness imaginable, at least for a documentary, and his story is more funny than sad, more inspiring than distressing. As he tells us in the opening moments, this is not a film about hand washing—his OCD has to do with "inappropriate" (violent mostly, but also sexual) thoughts that most of us have but don’t much fret, but his condition makes him gnaw on them like dog with a poisonous bone, and then too the other baggage enumerated in the subtitle don’t make things any easier for him. And yet he tries, and his trying is a triumph in itself.

This is also—is this going to be a persistent theme of my post–Scary Normal set life?--a film about filmmaking, complete with a visible boom in one shot, a nicely edited greenscreen scene, and an awkward pause to record room tone (though they cheat this one, giving a voiced-over reading of Bud’s grateful email to his crew).

Safety Not Guaranteed

Crit

Yeah, we could made this. OK, maybe we'd have needed another grand or two for cheesy special effects, but we coulda done it if that had been our screenwriter/director's vision.

A sweet, smart indy romcom, with Repo Man perched securely in its family tree. A small gem.

Trailers

• To Rome with Love--Why bother even showing me a trailer? I think it opens here Friday--hoping for an appropriate postwork showtime.
• Anna Karenina--Hadn't heard that this was coming. It's not Baz, but it has a Bazian feel about it. Unusual trailer in that it tells us who the screenwriter is (Tom Stoppard) but not the director (Joe Wright), though little of the language we hear sounds either Stoppardian or Tolstovian.