Category Archives: Movies

The Three Musketeers (2011)

15 Wednesday Apr 2015

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Brave Athos and Porthos and Aramis three
Fell victim to fraud that they could not foresee.
These fine musketeers were the heroes of France
But now are in need of a grand second chance.
 
When reckless D’Artagnan arrives with his sword
And makes first impressions that garner reward,
The Cardinal Richelieu plots and conspires
To trigger a war with a helper he hires.
 
It’s up to D’Artagnan and those musketeers
To launch the great quest of their noble careers.
For king, queen, and country, and also romance,
They’ll sail for adventure to rescue all France.
____________________
 

The latest Hollywood big-screen adaptation of Alexandre Dumas’s classic swashbuckling tale of intrigue feels undoubtedly like a copycat film, the kind that tries to come off as daring and original when all it does is borrow heavily from other better films. From the very beginning, when the titular musketeers are introduced in action, they are each drawn in a sketchbook style identical to that of Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes. In addition, they are not merely expert swordsmen but rather the 17th century version of the Avengers, with anachronistic gadgets and endless tricks up their sleeves, that is until someone else with bigger sleeves tricks them, namely Milady de Winter (Milla Jovovich, whom director and husband Paul W. S. Anderson brought along from the Resident Evil franchise to play the same kind of kick-butt superwoman).

Once we’re introduced to young D’Artagnan (Percy Jackson‘s Logan Lerman), the film more or less follows the course of the novel, as he challenges and eventually teams with the famed musketeers (Luke Evans as Aramis, Ray Stevenson as Porthos, and Matthew Macfadyen as Athos) in order to save the honor of France’s queen, battling the Duke of Buckingham (a campy Orlando Bloom), Cardinal Richelieu (Christoph Waltz), and Richelieu’s Captain Rochefort (Mads Mikkelson in another one-eyed role). Aside from the romantic struggle of Athos (and Macfadyen’s voice which my VC loves), the characters were mere placeholders. The filmmakers clearly tried for some development, such as with foppish Louis XIII’s re-courtship of his queen, but none of it carried any meaningful depth.

Throughout the film, I was reminded of National Treasure, The Dark Knight, Entrapment, The Golden Compass, and so on and so forth. The most glaring embellishment to Dumas’s tale is the airships, enormous balloon vessels supposedly designed by the visionary Leonardo da Vinci yet so anachronistic as to turn the story almost into science fiction. The battle between two such ships in the finale seems ripped straight from Pirates of the Caribbean, with a subsequent over-the-top swordfight on top of Notre Dame. It’s entertaining, but it felt as if the filmmakers were just throwing ideas at the story, saying, “Surely, this will be cool!” The film is not without merit: its production design, costumes, visual effects, ornate sets, and decent acting make for an enjoyable ride, but with so many influences so obviously borrowed, it fails to leave any lasting impression, making the heavily implied sequel highly unlikely. It’s popcorn entertainment of the disposable kind.

Best line: (Athos, as D’Artagnan is torn between duty and love) “I’ve made a lot of sacrifices. Made a lot of hard choices. For honor, for King, for country. Do you know what I’ve learned, boy? Hard choices and sacrifices do not keep you warm at night, and life is too damn short and too damn long to go through without someone at your side. Don’t end up like me. Choose the woman. Fight for love, D’Artagnan. France will take care of itself.”

 
Rank: Honorable Mention
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

294 Followers and Counting

The Lovely Bones (2009)

14 Tuesday Apr 2015

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(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is for a dialogue poem. In this case, I borrowed a page from The Book Thief and allowed Susie Salmon a conversation with Death.)
 
 
“Your name is Salmon, like the fish.
First name: Susie. Do you wish
That we had met on better terms
Before I made you food of worms?”
 
“You came upon me unannounced.
Within his den that monster pounced,
Delivering me to your door,
That I should wander home no more.”
 
“You were so young and so naïve,
And he so eager to deceive.
Before you knew it, you were here,
The latest girl to disappear.”
 
“This place is beautiful, and yet
I cannot help but feel regret
For all the joys I’d yet to find
And all the souls I left behind.”
 
“You still may watch the world now gone,
But like your friends, you will move on.
I’ll meet them all in proper time
And bring them to this realm sublime.”
________________
 

The Lovely Bones is Peter Jackson’s other film, the one he directed between his passion project of King Kong and his return to Middle-Earth with The Hobbit trilogy. Based on the bestseller by Alice Sebold, this supernatural drama is both deeply emotional and deeply flawed, a film that tries to balance beauty and evil and manages to cancel both out.

I enjoyed Saoirse Ronan in City of Ember and her ingenuous skill carries over to The Lovely Bones, in which she portrays Susie Salmon, a perfectly happy 14-year-old girl in 1973 who falls victim to an uncomfortably leery neighbor George Harvey, played with unsettling guile by Stanley Tucci. She hopes to be a wildlife photographer; she has a mutual crush on a fellow student from England; and she has her whole life ahead of her. Or rather, had, since she succumbs to the very stranger danger that kids are always warned about nowadays. The rest of the film follows her family as they deal with their loss, particularly her heartbroken parents (Mark Wahlberg and Rachel Weisz), even as Susie explores her personal heaven and watches those she left behind through a fantastical lens.

The film as a whole reminded me of The Five People You Meet in Heaven (they both feature Michael Imperioli) mixed with the serial killer story from the 1983 miniseries Chiefs, yet falling short of either. Everything about Harvey is disturbing (though thankfully not graphic), from his methodical planning of the crime to his efficient hiding of it, similar to Keith Carradine’s role as a murderer in Chiefs, and it’s no wonder Tucci received a Best Supporting Actor nomination. As the story continues, the audience’s desire for justice grows as well, or revenge in Susie’s case. The anticipation grows as both another murder and his comeuppance approach, and when the climax arrives, the height of tension strangely coincides with the height of romance, a reincarnate second chance which ultimately supplants the more concrete drama. At the moment when we think the killer will be caught in the act, Susie lets him go, for rather selfish reasons, in my opinion, since he clearly plans to continue his death spree. By the time he gets some form of just desserts, it feels random and tacked on, despite some foreshadowing, with little apparent closure for those he wronged. By the end, everyone just gets over it, and there’s even the suggestion that things are better for Susie’s loss. Certainly, growth from tragedy is healthy and necessary, but it’s a stretch to consider everyone the better for it.

In addition, the scenes of Susie traversing the ethereal “in-between” are certainly lovely, with a vibrancy of color and fluidity of landscape that suggests an eternal dream, yet they ultimately serve little purpose except to indulge in giant special effects. There’s surely an artistic, symbolic reason for crumbling gazebos and shattered ships in bottles, essentially to offer a more visually impactful perspective to what is happening on earth, but the deep-seated grief from the talented cast carries more than enough poignancy, making the effects redundant and excessive.

While the film’s heaven is basically devoid of God, the kind of happy, watered-down, self-made afterlife Hollywood prefers, it is not without beauty. The best example of the attempted duality of repugnance and hope involves Harvey’s other victims, listed and shown in chilling succession yet revisited in “heaven” as a morbid but happy sisterhood. This is the film’s high point, and it sadly goes downhill from there. While it tries earnestly to lighten the mood with existential hope and Susan Sarandon’s comic relief, the film cannot escape the fact that it is a sad story, well-told but unsatisfying.

Best line: (Susie) “There was one thing my murderer didn’t understand; he didn’t understand how much a father could love his child.”

 
Rank: Honorable Mention (though on the lower end)
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

294 Followers and Counting

The Birds (1963)

13 Monday Apr 2015

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We are watchers on the wires;
We are tenants of the skies;
Symbols of when man aspires;
Keepers of the flinching eyes;
Witnesses of every creature,
Evil, good, and in between,
Whether as a nimbus reacher
Or a prisoner to preen.
 
We are victims cursed by weakness,
Kept by cage or mortal mesh;
Though you know us by our meekness,
We will feast upon your flesh.
We are biders of the ages;
We are conquerors in wait.
When our wingéd warring rages,
You will comprehend too late.
_______________
 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a riddle poem, one that doesn’t reveal its subject, unless you count the title.)

I had never seen The Birds before and was curious about the film often considered to be Hitchcock’s last masterpiece. While many old suspense/horror films are sapped of their power by the passage of time, this one manages to retain most of its efficacy. Despite its potentially silly concept, the visual effects and Hitchcock’s direction manage to milk the tension and plausibly transform birds into a lethal nightmare, mainly due to their sheer numbers.

As the film begins, it follows the only mildly interesting courtship games of wealthy Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren) and Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor), and as she goes to improbable lengths to deliver a couple of lovebirds, my VC and I were waiting impatiently for some kind of bird-related havoc to happen. Of course, it does come and progresses gradually, from a single gull to a flock to a shocking discovery at a neighbor’s house (by a younger Jessica Tandy). Once the actual avian carnage begins, the film becomes vastly more entertaining. This transition from romantic comedy to terror was intentional, since Hitchcock wished to prey on his audience’s anticipation as they wondered when the attacks would start. While the gambit works for the most part, I can’t help but feel that Hitchcock was given a pass for a tactic that wouldn’t fly (pardon the pun) with someone of lesser prestige. Many films since have fused comedy and horror, but to shift from an unfunny comedy with no horror to a horror with no comedy would normally be criticized nowadays as being unbalanced or jarring.

Just as 1960’s Psycho established the slasher genre, The Birds actually foreshadowed two other horror sub-genres. Its depiction of nature rising up against humanity would be rehashed with various other animals over the years in lesser imitators (Frogs, Bats, Slugs). Likewise, the climax, in which the Brenners and Melanie barricade themselves within their home and defend against the swarming enemy, prefigured countless other such trapped room invasions throughout the horror genre (Night of the Living Dead, Aliens, The Mist, etc.). When the lights go out during the birds’ attack, I halfway expected someone to say, “They cut the power.” “What do you mean ‘They cut the power?’ How could they cut the power, man? They’re animals!” Unfortunately, The Birds also features the usual victim stupidity common in horror films, like sitting outside for a smoke after birds have attacked or inexplicably stepping into a room that clearly is full of birds and then losing the ability to open a door.

While one could speculate about the presence of caged birds being a possible impetus for the attacks, there is no explanation for the birds’ behavior. Perhaps Hitchcock felt any clarification would detract from the film by adding in some cheesy exposition, like radioactive something-or-other, a favorite device in B-movies. My VC would have preferred something of that sort, as well as a less sudden, ambiguous ending, which offered little closure for the characters. While some of the effects are dated and the beginning could have been improved, The Birds is still a film deserving of its classic reputation, one which succeeded in making even the mere flapping of wings an opportunity for dread.

Best line: (a naysaying ornithologist) “I have never known birds of different species to flock together. The very concept is unimaginable. Why, if that happened, we wouldn’t stand a chance! How could we possibly hope to fight them?”

 
Rank: List Runner-Up
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

292 Followers and Counting

The Philadelphia Story (1940)

12 Sunday Apr 2015

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Two years since the big divorce,
And Tracy Lord has no remorse.
The wealthy heiress soon will wed,
And tabloids, wanting to be read,
Will stop at nothing to inveigle
For what news they can finagle.
 
Macaulay Connor’s sent by Spy
To get the story none can buy,
Accompanied by pressured Dex,
Miss Lord’s both sore and spiteful ex.
To Lord’s dismay, she lets them stay,
Despite her coming wedding day.
 
Their presence tends to complicate
And spark unusual debate,
Which makes the vain Miss Tracy Lord,
That goddess always so adored,
To wonder of her selfish life
And who she’ll choose to call her wife.
______________________
 

The Philadelphia Story is just one of the many old black-and-white films lauded by the AFI, which I’ve only begun to check out. It made #51 on their original top 100 list, and the 2007 update raised it to #44, since it’s supposedly such a classic. It’s said to be the best example of the comedy of remarriage, a genre popular at the time; if that’s true, I have little hope for any others. As much as I hate to dissent from the critical consensus, I was not impressed and consider this an example of a film undeserving of its classic status.

With such famous actors involved, I had expected more. I love Jimmy Stewart, who earned a Best Actor Oscar for his role as writer Macaulay “Mike” Connor. I like Katharine Hepburn too. I have no feelings whatsoever about Cary Grant. Yet I did not enjoy this film, because of that lynchpin of any good film: the script. While the critically lauded, Oscar-winning screenplay was clever at times and had some humor, mainly from Stewart, such as his encounter with a linguistically old-fashioned librarian, the script was, shall I say, too flowery. Many call it elegant; I call it pretentious. The work of famed dialogue writers like Aaron Sorkin and Nora Ephron may be idealized beyond the typical limitations of ordinary speech, but as I was watching The Philadelphia Story, my VC and I kept thinking, “No one talks like this!” I don’t even think wealthy people in 1940 spoke like this. Flowery language can be cheesily poetic, such as in It’s a Wonderful Life when George Bailey says he’ll give Mary the moon: “Well, then you can swallow it, and it’ll all dissolve, see… and the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair…. Am I talking too much?” When lines like that make up the bulk of a film, though, the answer to that question is a resounding “Yes!” A protracted and rather awkward exchange between Stewart and Hepburn in a night garden prompted my VC to call it one of the worst romantic scenes she’d ever seen. I wouldn’t go that far, but she disliked the film more than I.

On top of the dialogue issue, I didn’t care for any of the characters, particularly Hepburn’s impudent Tracy Lord. As various people pile on the accusations of her considering herself a “goddess,” I found it hard to believe that no one had called her that before and was unsure why it would suddenly bother her now. I didn’t really feel sorry for this controlling bride-to-be, with her “poor little rich girl” mentality. Anticipating the popularity of reality shows and inside looks at the rich and famous, Stewart muses, “The prettiest sight in this fine pretty world is the privileged class enjoying its privileges.” I, for one, can think of much more entertaining sights.

Best line: (Margaret Lord) “The course of true love…”   (Macaulay Connor) “…gathers no moss.”

 
Rank: Dishonorable Mention
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

292 Followers and Counting

The China Syndrome (1979)

11 Saturday Apr 2015

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News reporter Kimberly Wells was hired,
For her pretty face and the ratings it drew.
Hard news is the journalist’s grail desired,
Dauntless and brand new.
 
She discovers just such a story when she’s
Sent to film a nuclear power station.
Sudden shutdown captured on film may displease
That corporation.
 
Cautious Jack Godell at the plant is worried:
Noises from the accident he alone fears.
Work to bring the plant back online is hurried;
Nobody there hears.
 
Those behind the overpriced project will block
Whistleblowers trying to thwart their tactic.
Brave Godell’s forced warnings yet hope to cause shock
With stunt climactic.
_________________
 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a poem written in a specific quatrain called a Sapphic, which I employed above. Tricky.)

Ironically, The China Syndrome is a film neither about China nor a disease, but rather an anti-nuclear thriller which acted as a forerunner to 1983’s Silkwood, sharing some of its themes. In fact, its early production grew from Jane Fonda’s desire to make a film about Karen Silkwood, though she eventually joined forces with Michael Douglas to create a fictional plotline informed by fact. Fonda and Douglas both star in the film as well, the former as a conflicted reporter tired of fluff news and the latter as her opinionated cameraman, who films an unexpected “accident” at the Ventana power plant in California. While both are eager to report the furtively obtained film, the bosses at both the news station and Ventana refuse to allow its release, even as Jack Godell (an exceptional Jack Lemmon) uncovers threats to the plant’s safety no one will take seriously.

Since it was recommended to me by my VC (who loves the young Michael Douglas in a beard), I knew from the start that The China Syndrome would have an anti-nuclear message, with which I was prepared to find fault since I personally do not object to nuclear energy and believe it to be safer than many critics imagine. As Douglas’s Richard Adams (not the author of Watership Down) vehemently decries the “cover-up” of the news station heads, I couldn’t help agreeing with his bosses. Just as we the viewers don’t fully understand all the technical jargon, Richard and Kimberly didn’t either. What they filmed was in no way definitive, lacking both sound and context, and to report it would have been professionally irresponsible, throwing volatile news out there just because it happened. Since the incident was also being investigated by the proper authorities, Richard’s eagerness to point an accusatory finger at Ventana seemed overly biased. However, as Godell’s complaints build up and roadblocks grow in the way of their next plant, Ventana’s subsequent actions become truly deserving of reproach. In scenes reminiscent of the end of Silkwood, the cronies attempt to silence dissent, pushing Godell to a breaking point as he hopes to bring them down with him.

As an anti-nuclear commercial, The China Syndrome failed to convince me, probably due to my conflicting bias, but I was pleased that it didn’t preach. As a film, it’s riveting, particularly toward the end, and every actor makes the most of each meaty role, evoking nuances and moral dilemmas that are not easily overcome. I’m no fan of Jane Fonda, but her skills are well-utilized to portray both Kimberly’s perky on-camera persona and her intuitive desire to be a hard-hitting journalist. She, as well as the set decoration and original screenplay, garnered Oscar nominations, but the most deserving was the Best Actor nomination for Jack Lemmon. His tragic performance becomes progressively more powerful, as he hesitates to challenge his superiors and eventually threatens everyone in order for the truth to be told.

In the end, despite its cast of anti-nuclear advocates, The China Syndrome (named after the theorized worst-case scenario of a nuclear core meltdown) becomes for me a condemnation not of nuclear power in general, but of the bureaucratic cutting of corners. The plant had an initial problem, which should have been swiftly corrected, but, despite all the fears of the plant being unsafe, its own built-in systems worked as they should have. The true issue lay in greedy executives trying to save money at the cost of human safety, an issue that applies outside the nuclear industry as well.

In one of the eeriest instances of life imitating art, the similar Three Mile Island nuclear incident occurred days after The China Syndrome’s release, which served to bolster the film’s revenue by making it even timelier. Everyone is entitled to an opinion, whether it be for movies or precarious forms of energy, and even if I disagree somewhat with its underlying message, I found this nuclear film to be anything but a bomb.

Best line: (Jack, during the investigation) “What makes you think they’re looking for a scapegoat?”  (his friend Ted Spindler, played by Wilford Brimley) “Tradition.”

  
Rank: List-Worthy
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

291 Followers and Counting

VC Pick: The Firm (1993)

10 Friday Apr 2015

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Attorneys need a home in which to practice proper law.
Bendini, Lambert, Locke have quite the lawyer-luring draw.
Can anyone resist a wealthy, prosperous career?
Doubt not that it is tempting for young hotshot Mitch McDeere.
Enjoying all the pleasures that the firm has deigned to give,
Family and barbeques, a house in which to live,
Good times that lack a down side just as far as he can tell,
His wife and he are happy…till they lose some personnel.
In no time, Mitch is well aware that something isn’t right;
Jobs shouldn’t cause the FBI to come to you at night.
Know-nothing newbie lawyers like McDeere don’t have a clue;
Like often said, beware an offer too good to be true.
Mitch finds out that the mafia employ his newfound firm;
Nobody leaves the company or life becomes short-term.
On every side, there’s pressure: worry, guilt, concern, and shame,
Plus conscience-stinging ethics that he never can reclaim.
Qualms urge him to uncover ways to flee his latest job,
Replete with all the pleasures and the dangers of the mob,
So quick to reel him in and think that he would play along.
The Feds will be no friendlier should anything go wrong.
Undaunted by the challenge, Mitch discovers how to weigh
Veracity with justice at the climax of the day.
With those he cares the most for, he attempts a daring play;
Excitement follows after when the firm gets in the way.
Yet Mitch has all the intel and integrity he needs:
Zip right into the lion’s den and hope the plan succeeds.
_________________
 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for an abecedarian poem, or one based on the alphabet. Here, each of the 26 lines above starts with a specific letter of the alphabet, though I had to fudge it on X. Who wouldn’t?)

It’s been several years since I last saw The Firm, the 1993 Sydney Pollack legal thriller based on a John Grisham novel. On the insistence of my Viewing Companion, I did, and I must admit I had forgotten how good it is. Though legal thrillers in general aren’t my preferred genre, The Firm is buoyed by excellent performances and a compelling lead character for Tom Cruise. Mitch McDeere is an admirable hero, confident in his skills, unflinching in his litigation, yet initially overwhelmed by the unexpected perils of a small Memphis law firm. Despite an unfortunate lapse early on, he loves his faithful wife (Jeanne Tripplehorn) and takes his duties as a lawyer seriously. Even when everyone around him expects him to be crooked for the sake of ease or safety, he remains straight, even if it puts him in more jeopardy (reminiscent of Montgomery Clift’s uncompromising priest in I Confess). His resolve to expose his criminal bosses only by legal means carries much risk, but it makes for an even more engrossing story.

On top of Cruise’s star power is the collective star power of the supporting cast, turning in good (not great) roles all around. There’s Gene Hackman as Cruise’s mentor and co-worker Avery Tolar, Gary Busey as a gun-hiding private eye, Holly Hunter as his accommodating assistant, a bald Ed Harris as a hard-nosed FBI agent, Wilford Brimley as the firm’s intimidating enforcer, and Hal Holbrook as the firm’s senior partner. In addition, Mitch’s jailed brother Ray is played by David Strathairn, whom I would never have considered to play Tom Cruise’s brother, yet it works.

Despite all the positives, the legal thriller genre has always felt overdone, in my opinion. While Mitch’s ethical solution to his predicament is entertaining, I can’t help but feel that all the intrigue and blackmail and legal dangers have been used elsewhere, perhaps in some other John Grisham book. I can’t cite anything definitive, but many legal thrillers seem to have the same shady machinations, just with different window dressing. In addition, Mitch’s tryst with a random girl on a beach, which comes back to bite him, seemed forced and out of character for someone of his integrity. He had already said no to another girl, and yet this one woman says, “You make me feel safe” and boom, he gives in. While I don’t enjoy The Firm quite as much as my VC does, it is still a riveting and well-acted drama that fits in well with other such thrillers and, to some extent, exceeds them.

Best line: (Mitch, to his brother Ray) “Hey, Ray, wouldn’t it be funny if I went to Harvard, you went to jail, and we both ended up surrounded by crooks.”

 
Rank: List Runner-Up
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

291 Followers and Counting

Ernest and Celestine (2012)

09 Thursday Apr 2015

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   A mouse and a bear                                      could never be friends
 Or could they?                   Well, maybe,                   but that all depends.
On whether                                                                               the bear
Would dare                                                                                to share
  And not                                                                                        ingest
 The cute                                                                                   young pest
(Who lives                                                                                   beneath
And steals                                                                                  bear teeth),
  And if                                                                                        the mouse
Could stay in                                                                             his house
 And share                                                                                   her art
 And melt                                                                                   his heart,
   And if                             the couple                               could convince
The mice and             bears                 to leave                    such pairs
 And not                   insist                      they not                  persist,
 For most               hate this                     in prej-                 -udice.
The mouse         and bear                       with fond         -ness rare
 Might prove     their point                        on what’s          unfair
    And form a sweet                                             unlikely pair.
________________

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is a calligram, a poem written in the shape of its subject, so I decided to go with reviewing Ernest and Celestine, in which teeth play an important role.)

Say what you will for the Academy’s Oscar choices, but every now and then they bring to light a rare gem. People scanning the nominees for Best Animated Feature in 2013 most likely read the name Ernest and Celestine and wondered where the heck that came from (not unlike The Secret of Kells in 2009 and A Cat in Paris or Chico and Rita in 2011). Though Frozen won that year, and The Wind Rises should have won, Ernest and Celestine was a worthy nomination, as cute and charming a tale as viewers are likely to find on either side of the Atlantic. Based on a series of Belgian children’s books by Gabrielle Vincent (pseudonym of Monique Martin), this French-language film follows the misadventures of the orphan mouse Celestine and the vagrant bear Ernest.

Celestine has always been taught to fear “the big bad bear” (not unlike the mice in The Tale of Despereaux) and to steal their teeth in order to support the mice’s incisor-centric society (a play on the Tooth Fairy, who is often a mouse in Europe). Likewise, Ernest is only interested in his next meal and agrees with all other bears that mice are mere pests who must stay below ground where they belong. Yet when the two meet and alternately have pity on the other, the subsequent budding friendship is undeniably heartwarming.

Adding to the charm of the story and its gentle humor is the lovely art style. This isn’t just a cartoon; it’s an illustration come to life. Certain scenes are gradually sketched from nothing, and, as detailed as much of the film is, at times the outer edges of a scene blur and fade into a blank margin, like the impressionistic pictures of a children’s book. (My VC and I had a debate over the quality of the different animation; she seems to pre-judge anything of non-Disney-style animation to be inferior, while I recognize the skill and beauty of different kinds of artwork, to a point. The fluidity of the animation is the biggest factor for me in judging its quality.) Though the film was originally in French, the English dub is excellent, with Forest Whitaker as gruff Ernest and a perfectly cast Mackenzie Foy (Interstellar) as cute and persuasive Celestine. It was also one of Lauren Bacall’s last film roles.

One note for families, though:  Both Ernest and Celestine partake in burglary, and though they are punished somewhat, they never show any remorse, like Remy did in Ratatouille. Thus, neither is necessarily a good moral role model, which might prompt some discussion between parents and children. Even so, the film lends hope that the two have moved on from their crimes and are happier for it. Ernest and Celestine is utterly sweet and a guaranteed children’s classic for those families lucky enough to discover it.

 
Rank: List-Worthy
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

291 Followers and Counting

VC Pick: The Lost Boys (1987)

08 Wednesday Apr 2015

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Do you enjoy some boardwalk fun
Where music pleases everyone
After the setting of the sun,
Where there resides a hidden fright,
Where teens go out to grab a bite
And murky murder plagues the night?
Then move to Santa Carla!
 
That’s where both Sam and Michael found
That teenage vampires abound
In coastal towns that bum around.
The elder learned to not imbibe
The blood of some vampire tribe
That sends a vague and creepy vibe.
 
If that should happen, it is best
To not be overly distressed
But stake the suckers through the chest.
Beware the bikers you befriend
Who look like Kiefer Sutherland.
There’s evil eager to descend
If you move to Santa Carla.
______________
 

For over a year now, I’ve indulged in my movie list, and though some films were chosen more for their appeal to my Viewing Companion than to myself (such as The Horse Whisperer and The Hunt for Red October), the list is primarily films I personally enjoy. While she shares many of the same tastes with me, there are a number of movies that would qualify for her personal list and wouldn’t come close to mine. In all fairness, since she has accompanied me for most of this film-viewing odyssey, I’ll be reviewing some of her favorites, whether I like them or not. The Lost Boys is my first VC Pick.

While I’m not usually one to endorse films with spewing blood (nor is my VC), I’ll admit I do enjoy The Lost Boys, an ‘80s cult classic if there ever was one. Directed by Batman’s greatest foe Joel Schumacher, it’s a blend of teen comedy and vampiric horror that balances the two surprisingly well, managing both big laughs and gruesome scares. Not being a horror fan, it’s not my preferred kind of movie, but my VC has a special love for the way it alternates between frights and fun, with giddy dedication to both. She enjoys its ‘80s-ness, such as the adolescent importance of MTV and comic books and a soundtrack full of well-chosen but less recognizable musical staples, such as covers of The Doors and Elton John. She loves the charm of the young actors; as she says, Corey Haim is just “so cute” as younger brother Sam, particularly in his reactions to the weirdness of Santa Carla, and cuteness turns to hotness when it comes to his older brother Michael (Jason Patric) and vampire gang leader David (Kiefer Sutherland), who fits the now-popular mold of a dark sexy bloodsucker. She also loves the film’s choral rock theme song “Cry, Little Sister,” as well as that hunky saxophone guy Tim Cappello, who shows off his ample muscles during an early seaside performance. (Like I said, this is one of her movies.)

While some early scenes drag on a bit, there’s much to entertain. The early antics of Haim and Patric make them believable brothers, while Corey Feldman and Jamison Newlander deserve some kind of iconic vampire hunter status as the artificially fearless Frog Brothers. Much of the humor comes from them, and by the time of the over-the-top climax (which reminded me of the later Spiderwick Chronicles), the Frogs are spouting self-teasing one-liners, as if they had watched too much Mystery Science Theater 3000. Other comedic moments come from the eccentric grandfather (Barnard Hughes) or even some subliminally funny lines (“Where’s Star, David?”). Plus, though it’s not an official Lost alert, I always get a kick out of David’s invitation, “Michael Emerson, come on down!” since Michael Emerson the actor played Ben Linus on that show.

Compared with the modern trend toward long majestically filmed continuous shots, The Lost Boys is a good example of the quick, skillful editing of yesteryear to lend more excitement to the action and to somewhat cover up the faked violence. It’s an appealing modern vampire tale, though it’s a shame they changed names (John to Sam, Peter to David, Wendy to Lucy the mother) to distance the story from its intended connection with Peter Pan, leaving only the title and Michael. For vampire fans and my VC, it’s a bloody treat that never fails to entertain.

Best line: (Sam, after a particularly rocking kill) “Death by stereo!”

 
Rank: List Runner-Up
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

290 Followers and Counting

Nebraska (2013)

07 Tuesday Apr 2015

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

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One million dollars—I won it! It’s mine.
I’ve got here a letter to prove that I’m right;
It says I’m a winner in plain black and white.
My son says I’m not, but I’ll never decline.
I’ll walk if I must to make good on my claim
In Lincoln, Nebraska, for fortune and fame.
 
He finally yielded to drive me the distance,
But here we are now in my boring hometown
To visit old kin whose default is to frown.
My wife is here too, though she hates my persistence.
I’m old and I’ll die and there’s no use in bragging,
But if I go soon it will be from her nagging.
 
My son doesn’t get it, but I must have won.
Now money’s a mutt with no loyalty due,
But when you’re its master, no need to pursue,
There’s deep satisfaction that something you’ve done
Succeeded. At last I can meet kith and kin
And know that they’re seeing a man who can win.
 
My son says I’m wrong, but he’ll know soon enough
That I can earn something deserving of pride.
I do want that truck, though I only can ride,
And that new compressor, just trivial stuff.
I won a grand prize, and perhaps that will be
Enough to redeem an old codger like me.
_________________
 

Based on NaPoWriMo’s poetry prompt of money, I decided to review Oscar nominee Nebraska, a uniquely matter-of-fact film whose eccentricity derives from its ordinariness. Bruce Dern won acclaim and a Best Actor nomination for playing Woody Grant, whose self-delusion about a sweepstakes letter sends his family back home to Hawthorne, Nebraska, while he and son David are en route to “collect the prize.” I’m not familiar with Alexander Payne’s films, but I quite liked this one (and thought it should have been PG-13 rather than R). Filmed in black-and-white, Nebraska might seem dull in its true-to-life approach, but it derives unusual humor and drama, much of it verbal, from the down-to-earth performances. In some ways, the film is a testament to the American family of yesteryear, full of distant cousins and less-than-warm reunions. My VC was tickled by the silent assembly of relatives, watching TV with sparse, intermittent fragments of conversation among themselves, because she remembers old family reunions that were exactly so, sometimes even without the TV involved.

Also celebrated is the affable friendliness of small-town America. Hawthorne has a certain warmth to it, the kind that some will pity and some will envy. Woody’s supposed win electrifies the town, where a visiting former resident’s good fortune is apparently front page news. Unfortunately, it also attracts family and friends eager to cash in on old debts, such as old rival Ed Pegram (Stacy Keach) and cousins Cole and Bart. (Did anyone notice that Cole is Devin Ratray, otherwise known as Buzz, Kevin’s older brother in Home Alone?!) Yet for every fortune-seeker, there are several genuine friends who merely congratulate Woody with no sense of entitlement to his winnings, offering the perfect balance to the greed of others.

Though Bruce Dern’s scraggly, no-nonsense portrayal of Woody earned the most critical praise and an Oscar nomination, it was so subdued and laconic that it failed to stand out for me. It was a very good performance, but not a great one worthy of an Oscar. Thus, I tend to consider his nomination a nod to his entire career, similar to the comparable performance of Richard Farnsworth in The Straight Story, which was also nominated for Best Actor. The surprise for me was Will Forte as David, shedding his SNL roots for a sincere, conflicted role that balanced comedy with drama (the compressor thief scene easily the funniest part). While David’s life is far from perfect, he proves to be a far more likable character than drunk Woody or his irritable and crude wife Kate (June Squibb), who reminded me of a harsher version of Grandma from The Waltons (compare her final line “You idiot!” with Ellen Corby’s “You old fool!”) While David is flustered by Woody’s brusqueness and misconceptions, he wishes to humor him for as long as they still have together, going to great lengths in the end to comfort his ailing father. Woody could hardly be considered a good father, but David proves himself as a good son.

Best line: (Bart, the speed demon) “We could get you to Lincoln in an hour.”   (David) “Lincoln is over 200 miles.”   (Bart) “Okay, hour-and-a-half.”

 
Rank: List Runner-Up
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

290 Followers and Counting

Whose Life Is It Anyway? (1981)

06 Monday Apr 2015

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

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From death in sleep to death in life, I wake
And look about the room in which I lay,
The hospital room where, for mercy’s sake,
I’m forced to stay and “live” day after day.
Not that I have a choice, for I lay still,
A quadriplegic, watered, cleaned, and fed.
They care more for my body than my will
And scoff when I insist that I am dead.
 
I gaze upon my hands, so limp and vain,
That once could sculpt with vigor and create,
And though my body feels no patent pain,
I suffer more with every passing date.
The dawn and light—I used to welcome both,
But they are now a source of pointless dread,
And if not for Hippocrates’ cursed oath,
Perhaps I might escape this bitter bed.
 
Some flowers and some friendly banter can
In no way lend advantage to my plight.
The right to live is that of every man,
But what of death? Do I not have that right?
__________________
 

(The above poem is my first stab at following NaPoWriMo’s poetry prompt, today’s being to write an aubade, or morning poem. In this case, I chose a darker tone than most, with influence from Phillip Larkin’s death-inflected “Aubade.”)

Recommended to me by my VC, John Badham’s Whose Life Is It Anyway? is a thought-provoking film adaptation of a Brian Clark play, which offers a morally challenging view into the subject of suicide. After a car accident (one of those sudden film sequences that remind us just how abruptly life can change), sculptor Ken Harrison is admitted to the hospital and returned to health, except for the fact he can no longer move anything below his neck. He jokes with the orderly (director Thomas Carter in a rare film role) and spews good-natured sexual innuendo at the attentive nurses, but deep down he believes his life is over and decides he does not wish to live. Yet when he asks to be released and left alone to die, the hospital administrator (John Cassavetes) refuses, believing he is not of sound mind. The legal battle that follows is sometimes funny, often heartbreaking, and impervious to any hard-and-fast answer for either side of the debate.

Richard Dreyfuss gives one of his finest performances as the bedridden artist with a death wish, and it’s a wonder that he wasn’t at least nominated for Best Actor. Whether you agree with his stance or not, his grief at the loss of his former life easily elicits sympathy, and like his lawyer (Bob Balaban), one cannot help but root for Ken, despite moral objections. The film itself would be hard to watch, if not for Ken’s frequent humor, which Dreyfuss delivers expertly (his “bunny rabbit” voice gets my VC into hysterics every time), and moments of levity alternate with reminders of the tragedy, both past and in progress. The film taps into questions regarding personal rights: If a clear-minded person does not want treatment, do doctors necessarily know best? What constitutes unbearable pain? Can people be forced through such pain on the promise that things will get better?

As persuasive as Ken’s pleas are, they failed to change my view from the start, that he should do his best to live with his condition and not throw his obvious intellect away. His most cogent argument involves his desiring the same courtesy mankind gives to wounded animals, putting them out of their misery, yet wounded animals lack the mental abilities that Ken still possesses. The way I see it, Ken focuses far too much on what he’s lost, his skills and his lover (both of which he dreams of in an unnecessary nude scene), concentrating on the past rather than the future; even if he’s lost nearly everything, he never tries to find something else he can do or find comfort in God. For me, the clearest refutation of his position is the life of Joni Eareckson Tada, the renowned quadriplegic who suffered the same kind of despair but overcame her handicap by learning to use her mouth to paint. There’s no reference to her inspirational story, but it seems that it may have aided Ken in daring to hope for a future he couldn’t see. While the film seems to take sides, the ending is open-ended enough for those of either opinion to hope for their preferred resolution, an impressive balancing act for such a difficult subject.

Best line: (Ken) “Some nurses and I went out for a little midnight skateboarding last night. The only trouble was that I was the skateboard.”

 
Rank: List Runner-Up
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

290 Followers and Counting