Monthly Archives: November 2014

#74: A Christmas Story (1983)

10 Monday Nov 2014

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‘Twas days before Christmas throughout the Midwest,
And young Ralphie Parker was clearly obsessed
With gaining the gift of a grandiose gun,
A Red Ryder air rifle second to none.
His teacher and Santa and Mom had no doubt
That, if he received it, he’d “shoot his eye out,”
But still he would dream of the glorious day
When he’d get the gun from the Christmas display.
 
As Ralphie’s friend Flick found his frozen tongue trapped,
As bullies tormented them till Ralphie snapped,
As Ovaltine ads disappointed the scamp,
As Mom and Dad fought over one gaudy lamp,
As imprudent words left him sampling soap,
He planned and held onto his undying hope:
The gun of his dreams. Though that Christmas had sighs,
He got and remembered both woes and his prize.
__________________
 

Sometimes, I find it difficult to imagine a time before certain films entered the pop culture stream; A Christmas Story is one of those films. Though set in an ambiguous ’30s-‘40s era in Indiana, it holds a ubiquitous nostalgia that even those whose childhoods were far-removed from that time and place can find plenty to which they can relate. In a way, Jean Shepherd’s novelized sketches of one hilarious Christmas seem to capture the very essence of childhood during the holidays.

Shepherd himself narrates the familiar vignettes with casual grandiloquence, while Peter Billingsley portrays his shrewd younger self. Ralphie is an engaging “everykid,” whose solecism and sporadic brattiness are easily forgiven, since after all, who wasn’t an occasional selfish rascal when growing up? Though Ralphie’s parents seem like tired stereotypes (the blustering, foul-mouthed patriarch and the dense, unassuming mother), they both are treated affectionately throughout, even in their parental judgments, and become more sympathetic as the film continues. They feel like real parents, not always getting along nor indulging their children as much as they might wish, but capable of unexpected kindness that sticks in a child’s memory just as strongly as pink bunny pajamas.

Every moment of this film is a paradigm of Christmas reminiscences, from Ralphie’s over-the-top fantasies to the oft-repeated assertion that BB guns can only end in ocular injury. Why A Christmas Story was coolly received upon its release, I’ll never know; perhaps nostalgia wasn’t “in” in 1983 or critics just couldn’t recognize an instant classic when they saw it. Regardless, it has risen to its due popularity over time and is typically repeated for the entirety of Christmas Day on TBS. Some Christmas movies focus on its true meaning, like The Nativity Story; some put the emphasis on wonder and vague holiday spirit, like The Polar Express; some just happen to be set at Christmastime, like Die Hard; and some are eternal portraits of yuletide Americana, the best of which is A Christmas Story.

Best line: (Ralphie’s narration, after he spills the F-dash-dash-dash word) “Over the years I got to be quite a connoisseur of soap. My personal preference was for Lux, but I found Palmolive had a nice, piquant after-dinner flavor – heady, but with just a touch of mellow smoothness. Life Buoy, on the other hand…” (young Ralphie) “YECCHH!”

VC’s best line (the more obvious): (Ralphie’s mom, his teacher, and Santa Claus) “You’ll shoot your eye out.”

 
Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

243 Followers and Counting

#75: Speed (1994)

09 Sunday Nov 2014

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An elevator stranded by a greedy bomber’s bomb
Attracts the LA SWAT team that must keep the riders calm.
Jack Traven and his partner Harry follow Traven’s gut
And rescue all the passengers before they meet the nut.
 
They think the wacko killed himself, but he has other plans.
He still wants ransom money in his trigger-pushing hands.
He poses Jack a challenge in a bomb-conveying bus,
Which cannot dare to slow down once it reaches 50+.
 
Jack rushes to the bus, which went too fast and now is armed,
And anxious Annie has to drive lest everyone be harmed.
Through traffic jams, unfinished roads, and skittish passengers,
They reach the airport and outsmart this worst of saboteurs.
 
They set a trap for Howard Payne, the ex-cop with a grudge,
But he holds Annie wired, daring Jack to give a nudge.
The subway takes the villain out, but Jack is forced to choose
To stay with Annie through a crash (until she takes a cruise).
__________________
 

Speed could have been a low point for action movies, a one-trick pony predicated on a single unlikely gimmick: a bus can’t drop below 50 mph or it explodes. Instead, it became one of the staples of the genre, one that milked its hair-raising scenario for all it was worth and joined the likes of Die Hard and the Terminator films as one of the great actioners. Though some of the set pieces lean on the outlandish side, there’s also a gripping reality to the circumstances, and it never lapses into the deadened routine of some films, as if no one is in any true danger. From the opening nightmare of an elevator collapse to the many close calls aboard Bus 2525, Speed is still a white-knuckle thrill ride that never gets old.

One of the film’s best points is the strong casting of the main three: Keanu Reeves as fearless bomb squad hero Jack, Sandra Bullock as vulnerable Wildcat Annie, and Dennis Hopper as disgruntled nutcase Howard Payne. The characters of Jack and Annie could have been flat and banal (like the leads in Speed 2), but Reeves and Bullock inject the right amount of perceptive humor and improvisational heroism to carry the film alone. Add in Hopper, an excellent “crazy” actor, as a seemingly omniscient antagonist, and the entire bombastic package is thrilling from beginning to end. Most of the passengers aren’t big names (the elderly Oriental man, now 100 years old, was actually an animator for some of Walt Disney’s early films), but I can’t resist saying, “Look, there’s Cameron” at Alan Ruck’s presence.

Between the stunts and the riveting Mark Mancina score, Speed is still just as entertaining as it was twenty years ago, minus the frequent profanity and the villain’s gruesome end. (As a minor point, the final line ends the film on a flat note for me, since I don’t think sex alone is any more reliable a foundation for a relationship than an intense situation. No wonder it didn’t last long.) The film spawned a much-maligned sequel aboard a ship that wasn’t that bad but couldn’t match the intensity of the original, especially minus Reeves. Most action films lately try to go over-the-top with the violent energy, but few even come close to the joy ride of Speed.

Best line: (Jack, to Annie) “Miss, can you handle this bus?” (Annie) “Oh, sure. It’s just like driving a really big Pinto.”

 
Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

243 Followers and Counting

#76: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986)

09 Sunday Nov 2014

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No highschooler could be cooler
Than beloved Ferris Bueller.
Everywhere he cannot err,
Which sister Jeanie thinks unfair.
One day, ol’ “Slick” pretends he’s sick,
Employing every clever trick.
Fortune-kissed, he can’t resist
Coercing Cameron to assist.
 
With crafty phone, they pick up Sloan,
Who’s Bueller’s girlfriend, as is known.
In Cameron’s dad’s Ferrari rad,
They cruise Chicago; what a lad!
They carpe diem from museum
To parade, and kin don’t see ‘em.
 
Toward the end, what they can’t mend
Becomes rebirth for Bueller’s friend.
Back home he flees with agile ease;
No principal can stop the tease.
He makes it there, no trice to spare–
The greatest days to those who dare.
________________
 

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is one of the most beloved single comedies ever made, a John Hughes classic of the highest order. It’s one of those endlessly watchable films with countless devotees who can spout the dialogue along with the film. Breaking the fourth wall has become more common nowadays, but no film can match the sheer classicness of Matthew Broderick’s conversations with the camera.

Every bit of characterization is spot-on, from Cameron’s meltdown over his father’s car’s mileage to Jeanie’s brief rendezvous with Charlie Sheen to Principal Rooney’s fruitless efforts to catch the titular delinquent in the act. Ben Stein’s memorably boring performance as an economics teacher even jump-started his acting career and typecast him with the most monotonous of personas. Yet no one steals the show like Broderick, whose character’s charming frankness, crafty connivances, and youthful vitality endeared him to audiences everywhere. His lip-syncing solo of the Beatles’ “Twist and Shout” aboard a parade float is the high point of the loosely-plotted shenanigans, the kind of stunning audacity that everyone wishes they could get away with.

Indeed, Ferris envy could very well be the reason for the film’s popularity. Who doesn’t want to get away with every risk and be universally liked at the same time? More people probably see themselves in Cameron (Alan Ruck), too worried about placating the oppressive and merely getting by to step out of the box. This one day in which Cameron only wanted to stay in bed, this one glorious day of ball games and art museums and eating pancreas, turns out to be the best day of his life and the day of his personal awakening. It’s the kind of day we all wish we could have.

John Hughes’s direction, at once quirky and natural, allowed the actors to grow into their roles so thoroughly that most of them are probably best known for Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. When Alan Ruck took command of the Enterprise in Star Trek: Generations, I said, “Look, it’s Cameron.” When Jeffrey Jones enjoyed Mozart’s music in Amadeus, I said, “Look, it’s Principal Rooney.” It’s still influential too; Candace’s eagerness to “bust” her brothers on Disney’s Phineas and Ferb is actively reminiscent of Jennifer Grey’s attempts against Ferris, and a recent Super Bowl ad proved that Broderick’s slacker role continues to be popular. Heck, the film pioneered the after-credits scene. Few films aspire to this level of unforgettable charisma, but Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is 1980s teen comedy at its most appealing.

Best line: (Ferris Bueller) “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

 
Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

243 Followers and Counting

 

#77: 1776 (1972)

07 Friday Nov 2014

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(Can be sung to “But, Mr. Adams,” minus the repetition)
 
In the summer of a year remembered,
As a turning point of history and rights,
Mr. Adams is imploring,
With controversies boring,
All the Congressmen to listen as he fights.
 
Independence, their independence,
Is a subject few are willing to discuss aloud,
Till Virginia’s Lee declares a resolution proud,
Which brings out the strong opinions of the noble crowd.
 
Since the foes to independence are mounting
And unanimous the final vote must be,
Mr. Adams stalls frustration:
They need a declaration
To announce the reasons why they must be free.
 
Mr. Adams tells Mr. Jefferson
That he must write the declaration they’re requiring.
Adams brings in Tom’s young wife to start inspiring,
And soon his aptitude for eloquence is firing.
 
Though the written declaration seems perfect,
Everybody finds a quibble or a flaw.
Words are altered or ejected;
Since slaves were interjected,
All the Southern states take issue and withdraw.
 
Mr. Adams, moved by Mrs. Adams,
Will not let his dream of independence meet an end.
He bites the needed bullets to convert each friend,
And the U.S.A. is born when signatures are penned.
_________________
 

Some of my favorite musicals are related to history, and, though the Second Continental Congress may not have been an obvious choice, 1776 brought this important time in history to life with the entertaining power of show tunes. I’m a big fan of putting the spotlight on minor players in history, people whose names are glossed over in history books. Giving them a name and voice and image only seems right, since unknowns can shape history just as much as presidents and kings. Though this film leaves out several members of the Congress in order to achieve a more manageable cast, it characterizes an amazing number of signers, including John Dickinson (Pennsylvania’s opponent to independence), James Wilson (a weak judge given a final choice), Samuel Chase (a rotund Marylander), Lewis Morris (an ever-abstaining New Yorker) Stephen Hopkins (a Rhode Island drunk), Richard Henry Lee (the Virginian resolution maker and relative of Robert E. Lee), Caesar Rodney (a Delaware patriot stricken by cancer), Dr. Lyman Hall (a Georgian physician), Colonel Thomas McKean (a Delaware Scotsman), and John Hancock (President of the Congress and first signer).

Of course, there are also the more obvious players as well. Though “obnoxious and disliked,” William Daniels as John Adams finds the same balance of likable and insufferable that he delivered as Dr. Mark Craig on St. Elsewhere. Howard da Silva is the spitting image of Benjamin Franklin and obviously enjoys spouting the wit for which Franklin was famous. Likewise, Ken Howard and Blythe Danner (aka Gwyneth Paltrow’s mother) are ideal as Thomas and Martha Jefferson, the former of whom struggles between patriotism and romance and chooses both, of course.

The film takes considerable liberties with its historical basis, including motivations (Dickinson himself posed some of the grievances put forward by Adams; his insulting Adams as a “lawyer” is ironic considering Dickinson was really a lawyer too) and dramatic details (Martha Jefferson never came to visit her husband in Philadelphia and had actually suffered a miscarriage around the time of the signing). While these aberrations can irritate history buffs, none are so glaring as to undermine the film as a whole. Indeed, 1776 depicts the tensions of the period with insight and humor. Small details, such as Franklin’s strained relationship with his son, are included as fascinating bits of trivia, while debates with the South foreshadow the objections that led to the Civil War. The dialogue, much of it derived from letters of the real people involved, carries a unique wit and intelligence of conversation that has been lost over time.

The film is also full of underrated musical gems, usually humorous, such as the opening “Sit Down, John,” the lighthearted “The Lees of Old Virginia,” and my personal favorite, the pen-passing “But, Mr. Adams.” The one song sung by defender of slavery Edward Rutledge, “Molasses to Rum,” goes a bit too far with its portrait of the slave trade, but most of the tunes are buoyant numbers, like Mrs. Jefferson’s “He Plays the Violin.” One brief scene also taps into contemporary Vietnam War sentiments about Congress blithely sending young men to war, ending with the poignant elegy “Mama, Look Sharp.”

1776 does occasionally drag with long stretches of dialogue that could bore those not actively interested in the debate, yet its music and recreation of history have always appealed to me. Though historians believe that the Declaration itself was not signed on July 4, 1776, the final scene that depicts this becomes more and more powerful as it continues, as if a window in time were opened allowing us to witness one of history’s pivotal moments.

Best line: (Congressional secretary Charles Thomson, calling for a vote) “Where’s Rhode Island?”
(McNair, the custodian) “Rhode Island’s out visiting the necessary.”
(Hancock) “Well, after what Rhode Island has consumed, I can’t say I’m surprised. We’ll come back to him, Mr. Thomson.”
(Thomson) “Rhode Island passes.” [everyone laughs]

 

Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

243 Followers and Counting

 

#78: The Color Purple (1985)

06 Thursday Nov 2014

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(Spoiler alert)
 
Two black girls in Georgia are never a bother,
But both are still coveted by their own father.
Young Celie’s delivered two children already,
And her only solace is dear sister Nettie.
 
When one Mr. Johnson comes seeking a wife,
It’s Celie he’s given, a servant for life.
He beats her, insults her, and treats her like dirt;
It’s Nettie he wants, and he’s eager to flirt.
 
When she still refuses, he sends her away,
But she swears to write, every night, every day.
The years pass in silence as Mister’s kids grow,
And some brash Sofia espouses Harpo.
 
She proves too high-strung to remain as his wife,
But he builds a juke joint for music and strife.
When Mister’s own prostitute stays for a while,
Shug bonds with Miss Celie and gets her to smile.
 
A word from the mayor’s wife quickly upsets
Sofia, who gives just as good as she gets.
This sends her to jail, crushing spirit and soul,
And twelve years locked up take a terrible toll.
 
When Shug visits them, Celie finds, when compelled,
The letters from Nettie that Mister withheld.
She stands up to him and insists she depart,
Which leaves him dumb-struck, and Sofia takes heart.
 
From then on, Miss Celie, though ugly and fraught,
Has luck on her side, whereas Mister does not.
As if God is trying to help them along,
Shug also makes up with her father in song.
 
At last, Mister sees all the pain he’s caused Celie
And sends her a gift given slyly and freely.
A tearful reunion, a long-hoped surprise
Fills Celie with joy that no pain can disguise.
___________________
 

The Color Purple, based on Alice Walker’s Pulitzer-winning novel, was a huge departure for Steven Spielberg, known for action and sci-fi blockbusters rather than emotional period dramas.  It proved how diversified his filmography could become and how skilled he is at coaxing powerful performances from his actors.

Whoopi Goldberg in particular, up to then strictly a comedienne, exhibits one of the most astounding transitions to drama imaginable, portraying Miss Celie in all her vulnerability and long-suffering shyness. Danny Glover as Mister delivers such a brutally despicable performance that it’s sometimes hard to imagine him as a good guy in films like Lethal Weapon and Silverado.  Margaret Avery plays Shug with both crudity and tenderness, and other up-and-coming African-American actors are well-cast, including Rae Dawn Chong and a young Laurence Fishburne (credited as Larry Fishburne).  However, the most moving performance for me comes from debuting Oprah Winfrey as Sofia, a woman forced to fight for her independence, who ends up fighting too hard.  I’m hardly a fan of Oprah, but she most certainly deserved the Best Supporting Actress Oscar (she lost to Angelica Huston for Prizzi’s Honor).

As inspiring as The Color Purple is in the end, it is also an unbearably sad portrait of cruelty and a downtrodden life.  Sad is the simplest way to describe all the pain in this film.  It’s sad that nearly every male character treats a woman as a thing to be ordered, beaten, and used.  It’s sad that Mister shamelessly prepares for his mistress in full view of and assisted by his own wife.  It’s sad that the bonds of marriage and parenthood mean nothing and that Celie has a dejectedly ignorant idea of what love is.  It’s sad that Shug’s moral choices alienate her preacher father and that one lapse in judgment ruins Sofia’s life.

Yet the final half hour is full of heartfelt reconciliations and reunions that make all the suffering bearable, if not worthwhile. I first viewed The Color Purple after I entered my current state of rarely if ever crying, but had I seen it when younger, I surely would have bawled multiple times with tears of both sorrow and joy.  My VC still chokes up at the end after multiple viewings.

Sad movies can be tricky. Some attempt social commentary that leaves me feeling manipulated and depressed (The Bicycle Thief, When the Wind Blows); others like The Color Purple balance the misery with moments of kindness and light that ultimately leave viewers satisfied. (Grave of the Fireflies may lean more to the former side, but there’s enough of the latter to win me over.  It’s still the only film that can get my lacrimal glands working.)

Though it failed to win any of its eleven Oscar nominations (being overshadowed by Sydney Pollack’s Out of Africa), The Color Purple is a masterpiece, one of those films that makes critics wax philosophical about the triumph of the human spirit.  Well done, Mr. Spielberg.

Best line: (Sofia) “Set in that jail, I set in that jail till I near about done rot to death. I know what it like, Miss Celie, wanna go somewhere and can’t. I know what it like to wanna sing… and have it beat out ‘ya. I want to thank you, Miss Celie, for everything you done for me. I ‘members that day, I’s in the store with Miss Millie; I’s feelin’ real down, I’s feelin’ mighty bad. And when I seed you…I knowed there is a God. I knowed there is a God. And one day I’s gonna get to come home.”

 
Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

241 Followers and Counting

 

#79: High School Musical Trilogy (2006, 2007, 2008)

05 Wednesday Nov 2014

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(Best sung to “We’re All in This Together”)
 
On New Year’s Eve, a game of karaoke
Begins a chance romance,
Yet Troy just wants to keep his singing low-key
Lest his friends look askance.
 
Gabriella is new to Bolton’s high school
And all its separate cliques.
A musical, despised as being not cool,
Throws off the stable mix.
 
When Troy and Gabriella
Both try out
For lead roles,
All their goals
Are put in doubt.
Their friends just want them focused;
Don’t rebel
From the sports
On the courts
In which they excel.
 
One Sharpay, the bad girl of the big stage,
Can’t stand her challengers.
As Troy’s friends try forcing him to disengage,
More sabotage occurs.
The lovebirds and school get past their own rage
And give their full support.
 
So Troy and Gabriella,
With the aid
Of their friends,
Changing trends,
Sing unafraid.
They win the big audition
With each friend
And proceed
To succeed
With a happy end.
__________________
 
(Best sung to “Work This Out”)
 
Summer arrives for the passionate class
That breakdances through East High.
Sharpay, with neverending sass,
Is eager for goodbye.
She heads out to her country club,
Where servants must comply.
 
But all the Wildcats are hired
And worked until they’re tired,
And only Troy’s desired.
 
As everyone tries to do their best,
It’s clear that Troy is favored here.
He gets used to the way he’s blessed
And estranges his best friends, who are second tier.
 
A talent show is beckoning
The brightest and the best,
And Sharpay’s bullying
Her brother is progressed.
He helps the Wildcats
Prepare for talent night,
Even as divided Troy
Deliberates his plight.
 
Gabriella departs,
A breaking of hearts,
And at last Troy decides the right thing.
He sings with his friends,
And Sharpay’s control ends.
Friends and family unite
For a future that’s bright.
 
Sharpay is shown up but not put down
And sings with them all in a common song.
Her brother Ryan wins the trophy’s crown,
And they all sing together as they get along.
__________________
 
(Best sung to “Scream”)
 
It’s time for senior year.
As all spectators cheer,
The Wildcats persevere
To one more win.
The musical this spring
Will cover everything,
And Troy and friends will sing
Through thick and thin.
 
With college closing fast,
Troy’s feeling harassed
By all the questions asked
Of choosing, weighing the future.
Both sports and theater
Just leave him unsure.
He wants to be closer
To Gabriella’s future.
 
There’s tension still
With Sharpay’s bluster,
And Ryan is persuaded to trust her.
 
Practice, prom,
Staying calm,
Troy is told that
He only holds back
His girlfriend’s bright track.
To abstain
From the pain,
Gabriella
Decides she must leave,
Which just makes Troy grieve.
 
He thinks about it more
And chooses her door.
Love he must restore
With singing, dancing, and choosing.
At last, he makes his choice,
Picks sports and his voice,
And they both rejoice.
It’s showtime; start the music!
 
Sharpay and Ryan
Each find their courses,
One which Juilliard endorses.
 
One last time,
In their prime,
They earn applause,
Announcing from stage
Their story’s next page.
Soon they all,
Standing tall,
Graduate and
Know, as their lives dawn,
That high school lives on.
_________________
  

Since its heyday, High School Musical has nearly gained the infamy of the Star Wars prequels for supposedly being such awful, overrated fluff. Yet I love it. Disney Channel original movies are hardly masterpieces and, except for The Color of Friendship and The Thirteenth Year, are not usually worth re-watching. However, High School Musical indeed became a phenomenon, one that I followed intently. I was surprised by the first film in 2006, convinced my parents and VC to view it as well (they love it too), watched the sequel’s even more successful debut the next year, and then paid to see High School Musical 3: Senior Year at the theater. One could call them guilty pleasures, but I’m not ashamed in the least. I grew up with these characters and, regardless of flaws, enjoy the films to this day.

The first High School Musical has the worst reputation, with karaoke, high school clichés (distinct cliques, evil blond diva, etc.), and other rather cheesy elements onto which haters latch. (On thetoptens.com, a website of public-voted top ten lists, it ranks as the #2 worst film, behind Justin Bieber: Never Say Never.) Yet I never watched High School Musical expecting Oscar-worthy performances or a deep, original plot; I love it for the music. It’s hip, catchy, progresses the story (usually), and made drama and musicals cool for a new generation.

High School Musical 2 is my favorite of the three, possessing some of the most memorable songs and the funniest script. With the return of the same young actors, it also succeeded in establishing them all as lovable characters of my childhood. Perhaps it was simply from seeing them repeatedly, but I came to care for Troy and Gabriella (Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens), Chad and Taylor (Corbin Bleu and Monique Coleman), Ryan and Kelsi (Lucas Grabeel and Olesya Rulin), and even sneaky Sharpay (Phineas and Ferb’s Ashley Tisdale). By the time the third film came out, I was nearing the same fears of the future they were and could actively sympathize with Troy’s uncertainty. Senior Year added some needed depth, even to minor characters, and ended with long shots of the six main characters simply smiling at the camera. I thought this unnecessary at the time, but as they’ve all moved on and “grown up” in different ways, I see now that those scenes (and the entire movies) act as snapshots of these actors at this early time in their lives, like a graduation photo, if you will. The bittersweet end has touched my inner teenager on subsequent viewings.

As for the music, all three films have some commonalities in their songs. Each has at least one romantic duet with Troy and Gabriella:

-the first film’s “Start of Something New,”
-the second film’s “You Are the Music in Me” (the best), and
-the third film’s “Right Here, Right Now” and “Can I Have This Dance;”
 

a well-choreographed, rap-inflected number:

-the first film’s “Get’cha Head in the Game” (the best),
-the second’s “I Don’t Dance,” and
-the third’s “The Boys Are Back;”
 

a slow, emotional solo for Vanessa Hudgens:

-the first film’s “When There Was Me and You,”
-the second’s “Gotta Go My Own Way” (tie), and
-the third’s “Walk Away” (tie);
 

a show-stopping hit midway through:

-the first film’s “Stick to the Status Quo” (tie),
-the second’s “Work This Out” (tie), and
-the third’s “A Night to Remember;”
 

a catchy, over-the-top number for Sharpay, which I actually enjoy more than Troy and Gabriella’s:

-the first film’s “Bop to the Top,”
-the second’s “Fabulous,” and
-the third’s “I Want It All” (the best);
 

and a rousing finale that wraps everything up with a smile-worthy bow:

-the first film’s “We’re All in This Together” (three-way tie; all too good to choose),
-the second’s “All for One” (bursting with summer’s joie de vivre and my VC’s favorite), and
-the third’s “High School Musical” (three-way tie).
 

Critics can decry the unsophisticated dialogue and hackneyed plot elements, but High School Musical is something that everyone involved can be proud of. Director and choreographer Kenny Ortega did an outstanding job across the board. The choreography is excellent throughout (with the laughable exception of the second film’s “Bet On It”), and it’s obvious that much work and practice went into creating the elaborate dance scenes. Unfortunately, Disney Channel has yet to reclaim the spirit of these musicals, though they’ve tried with the unmemorable Camp Rock and Teen Beach Movie.

Another reason I love these films is for their ingenuous purity. Though I like some of the music in it, Grease did not make my list; High School Musical may borrow elements from that film, but it exceeds it in good, clean entertainment value. The world of East High is indeed squeaky clean and idealized, but that’s simply the kind of world I prefer, a world in which a boy can sneak up to his girlfriend’s bedroom without a hint of impropriety, in contrast to the “realistic” world of sex and drugs that other high school films depict. It’s always easier to criticize than to create, and for all its imperfections, I will continue to assert that the High School Musical films are a credit to their genre.

Best lines: Refer to best songs above

 
Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

240 Followers and Counting

 

#80: Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

04 Tuesday Nov 2014

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At Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade,
Their Santa impostor is drunk,
And Miss Doris Walker must see that he’s played,
Although she thinks Santa is bunk.
 
When kindly Kris Kringle is begged to fill in,
He does such a wonderful job,
He’s made the store Santa, the best there has been,
And garners a juvenile mob.
 
He has the consumers’ best interest at heart,
An idea so radically new
That Macy’s and Gimbel’s incredibly start
A goodwill campaign overdue.
 
Miss Walker’s young daughter named Susan is told
By Mother to be realistic,
But Kris is so Santa-ish, jolly and old,
That she cannot stay pessimistic.
 
Yet Kris makes an enemy with enough clout
To claim an annoyed accusation,
Which puts Kris’s sanity quickly in doubt
Right after a brief altercation.
 
When Doris’s lawyer friend Fred defends Kris,
A court battle breaks out and quick,
And Fred Gailey’s planning to somehow prove this:
That Kris is the famous Saint Nick.
 
Though Doris is frustrated by Fred’s endeavor,
Both Susan and she still concede.
Their trust leads to proof, unexpected and clever,
By which Kris is upheld and freed.
 
His gifts warm the hearts of his numerous friends
After he is released Christmas Eve.
Fred, Doris, and Susan see all he intends
And really can’t help but believe.
____________________
 

One of the quintessential Christmas movies, Miracle on 34th Street is as pure and sentimental as holiday entertainment can get without becoming saccharine. Edmund Gwenn won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his portrayal of arguably the best on-screen Santa Claus, genial and honest, accommodating but willing to confront vice in the name of virtue. When younger, I was always told that the Santa at the end of Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade was the real Santa (as opposed to all his impersonating helpers out there in the malls and department stores and street corners), and this film cemented that belief.

Maureen O’Hara is both likable and frustratingly pragmatic as divorced mother Doris, whose growing relationship with the idealistic lawyer Fred Gailey (John Payne) is a cogent endorsement of the “lovely intangibles” that make life enjoyable. A young Natalie Wood gives a precocious performance as doubting Susan, who doesn’t know what to believe as the adults pull her in different intellectual directions.

Though there are some instances of Golden-Age-of-Hollywood overacting, its Oscar-winning screenplay succeeds at balancing humor, schmaltz, and intelligence. The courtroom scenes are particularly well-formulated, with an implausible claim being “proven” in a surprisingly persuasive way. Though we never see Kris Kringle in full Santa mode, delivering toys and such, he embodies and disseminates the goodwill, generosity, and “faith” of the secular side of Christmas. No remake can compare with the magic of the 1947 original (non-colorized, please).

Interestingly, despite its reputation as a holiday classic, the film was not advertised as a Christmas movie. Its trailers simply featured actors bestowing vague praise on some inspiring story called Miracle on 34th Street, and it was actually released in the United States in May. Even with its spring release, the film was recognized as a Christmas delight, one of those enduring bits of Americana that can be watched year after year.

Best line: (Fred) “Look, Doris, someday you’re going to find out that your way of facing this realistic world just doesn’t work. And when you do, don’t overlook those lovely intangibles. You’ll discover they’re the only things that are worthwhile.”
 
VC’s best line: (Mr. Shellhammer, on the phone with Doris) “Yes. Just a moment.  Mrs. Shellhammer wants to talk to you.  I made the martinis triple strength, and she feels wonderful!  Here, my pet.”
(Mrs. Shellhammer, on the couch and snockered, holding the phone upside down) “Thank you. Hello?  Hello?”
(Mr. Shellhammer, switching phone around but still upside down) “No, no, no, no. No, dear.”
(Mrs. Shellhammer, laughing) “Thank you, darling. [Loudly]  Hello?”
(Mr. Shellhammer, turning phone right-side up) “No, no, no, dear. There.”
(Mrs. Shellhammer) “Oh, darling. How silly of me. [Very loudly] Helloooo? [Laughs] Why, we’d love to have Santa Claus come and stay with us. Mm-hmm. I think it would be simp-ly charming!”
 
Rank: 54 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

239 Followers and Counting

 

#81: Gone with the Wind (1939)

03 Monday Nov 2014

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Young Scarlett O’Hara is pining away
For the weak Ashley Wilkes, every night, every day,
But treats him as if he committed a felony
When he intends to wed his cousin Melanie.
 
As Civil War nears, she is suddenly met
By dashing Rhett Butler, who makes her upset.
He claims that the South cannot win any war,
But men still depart to go fight by the score.
 
An inconsequential first marriage ends fast,
And soon in Atlanta the wives are aghast
When Scarlett’s out dancing with who else but Rhett,
Who’s now a blockade runner nursing regret.
 
As Scarlett and Melanie worry and fret
For Ashley, they care for each suffering vet.
Atlanta is falling one hot afternoon
When Melanie goes into labor too soon.
 
The baby delivered, they call on Rhett’s aid;
He brings them a wagon as Yankees invade.
Through fiery buildings, they flee from the city,
And Rhett leaves them there with a kiss and his pity.
 
Through war-ravaged fields, Scarlett makes it to Tara,
Where fever has overcome Mrs. O’Hara.
Her home now in shambles, Miss Scarlett declares
She’ll never be hungry, regardless of cares.
 
The long Reconstruction is hard on them all;
Her father’s soon claimed by an unbalanced fall.
As taxes pile up, she appeals to ol’ Rhett,
Who’s broke and in prison but not desperate yet.
 
She marries for money, is widowed again,
And keeps Ashley close as her favorite of men.
When Rhett then proposes, she swiftly agrees
And soon has a daughter they’re eager to please.
 
A rumor and distance make Rhett envious,
And he has his way with a passionate fuss.
But tragedy strikes (in fact, three in a row),
And Scarlett and Rhett are too mired in woe.
 
When Scarlett at last has the courage to state
She never loved Ashley, it’s simply too late.
Rhett bitterly leaves her, not giving a “damn,”
But she swears to win back her disgruntled man.
___________________
 

When I first compiled my list, I originally placed Gone with the Wind at #5 because I admire it as a milestone in cinema, the film that mostly topped its great 1939 competition. However, my VC pointed out that I’m rarely eager to watch it nor am I quite as enthralled by the epic romance as she is. Thus, I decided to drop it out of the top ten but still give it the praise it deserves.

Gone with the Wind is one of America’s most enduring icons. Who hasn’t heard deathless lines like “As God is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again,” or “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ babies,” or “After all, tomorrow is another day”? Who hasn’t seen at least one parody of some element of this film? (Carol Burnett’s “Went with the Wind” skit is a favorite.) Between Margaret Mitchell’s classic (and interminable) novel and Sidney Howard’s Oscar-winning screenplay adaptation, the script is full of juicy quotes, yet even these are overshadowed by the perfectly cast leads and the scope of its best scenes.

While at times she indulges in unconvincing histrionics, Vivien Leigh is Scarlett O’Hara, just as the debonair Clark Gable is Rhett Butler. (Margaret Mitchell had him in mind.) Their amorous banter and volatile relationship are hallmarks of cinema romance, and Gable’s suave persona has left many a woman swooning in her seat, not least of all my VC. They also share one of the most passionate kisses ever filmed (after they leave Atlanta), which few movies can hope to top. Other characters are well-cast, though a tad one-dimensional. Olivia de Havilland (one of the only stars still alive) as Melanie is an ingratiating Mary Sue who is nonetheless kind and sympathetic, and while Leslie Howard is equally good as Ashley, his weak character is such a contrast from the allure of Rhett Butler that one cannot help but want to slap Scarlett silly for her misplaced infatuation. The black characters have drawn criticism for their adherence to racial stereotypes, but Hattie McDaniel’s role as Mammy won her the first Academy Award for an African-American (beating out de Havilland for Best Supporting Actress).

The film is at its best when its epic scope plays out, particularly during the War itself. Two scenes especially stand out: the long shot that pulls out to reveal a huge field strewn with Confederate soldiers, and the thrilling escape from burning Atlanta, with the characters’ silhouettes fleeing before a collapsing building (which had to be shot in one take). The film has spurts of cinema at its best, mainly in the first half, but its taxing length cannot keep up the spectacle. Perhaps due to its troubled production, many parts are simply boring and not completely necessary, a fault the films of my final top ten do not share.

Despite its bloated duration, Gone with the Wind is an epic romance set in a time long past, of billowing gowns and urbane gentlemen, a period clearly romanticized but no less legendary. It has ranked high among AFI’s greatest film lists, and, though I cannot quite include it in my personal top ten, it still deserves a place of honor among the all-time classics. May Hollywood never attempt a remake. (Please!)

Best line: (Scarlett, as Rhett is leaving at the end) “Rhett. If you go, where shall I go; what shall I do?”   (Rhett) “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

 
Rank: 54 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

239 Followers and Counting

#82: Aladdin (1992)

02 Sunday Nov 2014

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(Best sung to “Arabian Nights”)
 
In a kingdom long past, in the great Agrabah,
The vizier has a villainous plan.
In the rarest of caves,
There’s a lamp that he craves,
But Jafar first requires a young man.
 
This Aladdin is poor, but he meets the princess;
Jasmine’s drawn to his freedom and charm.
He is tricked by Jafar
To dare where wonders are,
And one slip nearly brings him to harm.
 
Though trapped in the cave,
The agreeable tramp
Obtains wishes three
From a joking Genie
When he brushes his lamp.
 
Becoming a prince,
Al deceives everyone.
He wins Jasmine’s heart
And reveals Jafar’s art
Of deception he’s spun.
 
When Jafar gets the lamp
And indulges his greed,
He is tricked into jail,
Al and Jasmine prevail,
And the Genie is freed.
_______________
 

Created during the upswing of Disney’s animation Renaissance, Aladdin continued the high quality of The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast. For a while, I considered it rather overrated, but recent viewings have proven that it is indeed a diamond in Disney’s collection. Much of the film’s success goes to the late, great Robin Williams as the frenetic Genie. For my generation, Aladdin was the first introduction to Williams’s delirious brand of humor, so fast-paced and jammed with impressions, puns, and comedic asides that re-watches are a must. The animation complements his frenzied personality, allowing the character to transform and dart around with abandon. His “all-powerful” status also allows for countless anachronisms, including Middle Eastern cliché revisions (“Wake up and smell the hummus”) and references to The Little Mermaid and Pinocchio. (Interestingly, some locations that Aladdin and Jasmine visit during “A Whole New World” foreshadowed upcoming Disney releases, like Hercules and Mulan.)

Of course, the soundtrack was also very well-received, earning Aladdin two Oscars for Best Score and Best Song for ”A Whole New World,” one of Disney’s best romantic duets. The Genie’s frenzied appeal highlights “A Friend Like Me” and “Prince Ali,” and “Arabian Nights” lived on as the theme song of the Aladdin TV series. While not my favorite of the Disney soundtracks, it is nevertheless fun and engaging.

Though none of the characters are as colorful as Genie, most are well-drawn and complex. As a male protagonist, Aladdin himself changes up Disney’s usual princess model, and Jasmine is a worthy addition to the roster of strong princesses. Sounding not unlike Vincent Price, Jonathan Freeman’s Jafar is also a formidable villain, able to make the word “boo boo” into something sinister. Aladdin also boasts one of the greatest number of individual sidekicks that I’ve counted: besides Genie, there’s Abu and the magic carpet for Aladdin, Raja the tiger for Jasmine, and Iago (a priceless Gilbert Gottfried) for Jafar.

Between the music, character dynamics, and brisk comedy, Aladdin deserves its reputation as one of Disney’s great successes; even this year, it spawned a Broadway musical. Oh, that Disney could return to these glory days!

Best line: (Genie, when first awakened) “Oy! Ten thousand years will give you such a crick in the neck!”

 
Rank: 54 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

237 Followers and Counting

 

#83: Saints and Soldiers (2003)

01 Saturday Nov 2014

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At Malmedy, the prisoners
Were massacred among the firs.
Survivors fled, though only four,
Content to hide and nothing more
Behind the German lines adverse,
 
Until a Brit convinces all
To risk their lives through snowy pall,
More lives to save from waning war
In snowy squall.
 
Camaraderie begins to grow
Among the outfit, lying low.
Through losses testing faith and nerve,
They carry on, like all who serve,
And gain perspective on the foe
From those who fall.
_______________
 

Who knew that a war movie made by Mormons would become one of my favorites of the whole genre? I watched Saints and Soldiers with low, if any, expectations and was completely enthralled by its powerful story. Set around real-life events, like the Malmedy massacre and the Battle of the Bulge, the film incorporates several true anecdotes into its tale of five soldiers behind enemy lines.

Though none of the actors are well-known stars, the entire film centers on its character development and excels at it: faithful but traumatized Deacon, coolheaded Gunderson, cigarette-craving Kendrick, suspicious doctor Gould, and swaggering Brit Winley. Every exchange provides either insights into their characters or humorous incidents that endear them to the audience and to each other. The writers throw in deftly written dialogue cues about each character’s “secret” and backstory that work even better than flashbacks would. By the time some of them give “their last full measure of devotion,” we feel as if we know most of them and are shaken by the loss as much as their fellow soldiers. Many movies have attempted such emotional direction, but Saints and Soldiers succeeds, at least for me.

For a low-budget production, the film boasts surprisingly genuine performances; stunning winter cinematography; a stirring, patriotic score; and a number of period details, from military costumes to antique vehicles, which add to its overall authenticity. One well-handled aspect is its Christian message; yes, it features somewhat of an evangelistic subplot, but it is never preachy and could have indeed happened out on the battlefield. Deacon is written as a Mormon from Snowflake, Arizona (“Doesn’t drink. Doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t even like coffee.”), but the only explicit elements of his faith are his reading of a small book (probably a Bible) and a brief, interrupted prayer. His faith acts as a complement to the story rather than the main focus and in the end is affirmed in a satisfying and realistic way.

Of course, there are also the usual explosions and battle scenes necessary in a war movie, and though many die and it is certainly intense, the violence is brief and restrained. Modern war films too often delve into the overly gritty, gory details that make war hell, claiming truthfully that it is “realistic,” but Saints and Soldiers achieves the same impact and emotion without profanity and without depicting heads blown off and blood spurting.

A lesser-known classic, Saints and Soldiers is a powerful, character-driven fight for survival that doesn’t demonize the enemy nor idealize the heroes and ought to be a model for other war films.

 
Rank: 54 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

237 Followers and Counting