Category Archives: Writing

#60: Back to the Future Trilogy (1985, 1989, 1990)

25 Tuesday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, ,

(Spoilers ahead)
 
Marty McFly is a likable guy
Who’s known as a slacker at Hill Valley High.
His dad is a nerd in each sense of the word,
Who often is bullied by Biff undeterred.
Emmet Brown is a doc, whom most people just mock;
He has an invention to turn back the clock.
 
The Doc has created a time machine dated,
A tricked-out DeLorean; Marty’s elated.
When Doc Brown is shot for the fuel that he got,
McFly speeds away for the sake of the plot.
When he goes too fast, Marty’s stuck in the past,
1955, where there’s quite the contrast.
 
He sees George McFly, still Biff’s least favorite guy,
And saves his own dad, who is painfully shy.
The blow he prevents Marty quickly laments,
For now he has changed the whole course of events.
His mother Lorraine now has him on the brain,
And his interference could be his own bane.
 
With Doc, still alive in 1955,
They plan for a carefully-engineered drive
To harness the spike of a timed lightning strike
And send Marty back to the time they all like.
Yet first he must try to conspire and lie
To pair up Lorraine and the proper McFly.
 
George steps up when needed, and Biff is defeated,
But even though Marty’s maneuvers succeeded,
He speeds down the block for the requisite shock
To send him back home to the still-living Doc.
It seems all is well, and the future will tell,
But why wait when there is a sequel I smell.
____________________
 
When Doc Brown returns with some pressing concerns,
He takes Marty back to the future. He learns
That mischief is done with McFly’s only son,
So Marty must stop it before it’s begun.
In 2015, Marty meets on the scene
Old Biff and his grandson, both terribly mean.
 
Their efforts succeed, but temptation toward greed
Lets Biff get away with a self-serving deed.
Unaware of the slime, they return to their time
And find ’85 full of sorrow and crime.
A sports almanac that the old Biff took back
Allowed his young self to grow rich from the track.
 
This present nightmare, full of death and despair,
Can only be changed by the time-travel pair.
They go back once more to the dance long before
To steal back the book and the future restore.
Both Marty and Doc do their best not to walk
Into their other selves, who must meet at the clock.
 
The book time demands several times changes hands,
And Marty gives chase ere Doc’s flying car lands.
The duo prevail, but the car in the gale
Is shocked to the past, as explained in the mail.
The Doc is alive in 1885,
And Marty needs past Doc to help him arrive.
___________________
 
With help from the Doc, who passed out at the clock,
Marty finds the DeLorean hid under rock.
He sees and is stressed that Doc in the Old West
Died days after writing his final request.
Doc doesn’t condone, but still Marty, alone,
Goes back to save Doc from his coming tombstone.
 
The time machine’s harmed, and soon Marty’s alarmed
When Biff Tannen’s ancestor threatens him armed.
Doc saves his young friend and endeavors to mend
The time machine ere his unfortunate end,
But they find, alas, that the car’s out of gas;
A train is the only way they can go fast.
 
A woman nearby nearly learns how to fly,
But Doc rescues Clara and catches her eye.
A hoedown that night deepens Marty’s new plight
When “Mad Dog” demands that they schedule a fight.
Now Marty’s in danger, and Doc the time-changer
Breaks up with his Clara with truths that estrange her.
 
Doc Brown is distraught, and Mad Dog wants a shot
At Marty, who learns when to fight and when not.
With this Tannen bested and swiftly arrested,
They hijack the train in which all is invested.
Clara comes on the scene as they push Doc’s machine,
And with her in danger, Doc must intervene.
 
He rescues his mate, but the car travels straight
And travels through time when it hits eighty-eight.
Though Marty makes it, the DeLorean’s hit,
And all’s back to normal, as time will permit,
And Doc on a train that he tricked out again
Tells Marty the future our lives will ordain.
_______________
 

What can I say about the Back to the Future films that hasn’t already been said? Robert Zemeckis hit a home run with this, the original convoluted paradox movie. Full of clever twists and turns, all three films interconnect in amazingly imaginative ways, with running jokes and scenarios repeated in different time periods. The situations are so pervasive that I forgot that Marty’s whole “chicken” hang-up was only introduced in the second film rather than the first.

Michael J. Fox as Marty and Christopher Lloyd as Doc Brown were impeccably cast, creating for each of them their most iconic roles. Fox especially exhibits a wide range, from his cool 1985 self to his wimpy 2015 son to his wise 1885 ancestor to even his own daughter (I swear I just noticed that last one!). Lea Thompson as Lorraine/Maggie McFly and Thomas F. Wilson as Biff/Griff/Mad Dog Tannen also span several unique but similar identities throughout history. Supporting performances are also excellent, such as Crispin Glover’s geeky mannerisms as the first film’s George McFly. The role of Marty’s girlfriend Jennifer changed from Claudia Wells in the first film to Elizabeth Shue in the sequels; perhaps it’s simply because she has more screen time, but I think I prefer Shue.

I’ve always loved time travel, and though even more complex films have been made since, Back to the Future’s various paradoxes, alternate time lines, and potentially universe-destroying encounters boggle the mind while remaining altogether fun. The second film is particularly complex, yet it’s probably my favorite, with its visit to a positive but not idealized future and its more active time traveling. The first is the most classic; the second is the most breathlessly entertaining; and the third boasts the best action sequence, the train-hopping finale with a thrilling crash that is much more impressive and real-looking than the similar climax of The Lone Ranger.

The films are also famous for their humor, such as the irony of building a time machine out of a DeLorean. My favorite comedic moments are the reactions: Doc’s crazed gaze when Marty convinces him he’s from the future, Marty’s stunned expression when his younger mother kisses him, Jennifer’s shock at seeing herself older/younger, Doc’s “Great Scott!” when Marty says he’s “back from the future,” Doc’s reaction to the Wake-Up Juice, etc. By the time of the third film, much of the situations are too familiar, but even then the Wild West milieu offers a different lens for everything; I might compare the trilogy to the Disney show Phineas and Ferb, in which a highly predictable formula is altered in small clever ways to still be entertaining and funny.

Back to the Future was one of my dad’s favorite films, and though over time he has complained that it’s dated, each film boasts endless watchability. Even my most recent viewings have yielded new details I had never noticed, like how Twin Pines Mall becomes Lone Pine Mall after Marty runs over one of Mr. Peabody’s two trees in 1955. Though the company went out of business before the first movie was filmed, the DeLorean will always be remembered as Doc Brown’s time machine, and Fox and Lloyd will always be fondly known as Marty and Doc. With its thirty-year anniversary approaching, including a London musical (and a 2015 that unfortunately doesn’t quite possess all the conveniences shown in Part II), Back to the Future still remains as fun as ever.

Best line from Back to the Future: (George McFly) “Last night, Darth Vader came down from Planet Vulcan and told me that if I didn’t take Lorraine out, that he’d melt my brain.”

Best line from Part II: (Doc, as 1985 Jennifer is being taken to her 2015 home) “I foresee two possibilities. One, coming face to face with herself thirty years older would put her into shock, and she’d simply pass out. Or two, the encounter could create a time paradox, the results of which could cause a chain reaction that would unravel the very fabric of the space time continuum and destroy the entire universe! Granted, that’s a worse-case scenario. The destruction might, in fact, be very localized, limited to merely our own galaxy.”

Best line from Part III: (Marty) “Listen, you got a back door to this place?”  (bartender) “Yeah, it’s in the back.”

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

255 Followers and Counting

#61: Life Is Beautiful (1997)

23 Sunday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

,

Guido’s a waiter, who lives a charmed life
And woos a “princess” as he just improvises.
His lovable antics obtain him a wife,
Who’s carried away by his crazy surprises.
 
Italy enters a much darker stage,
When Jews are reviled as some lower race.
So Guido convinces his son to engage
In one giant game in a frightening place.
 
The work camp is torment for its residents,
But young Joshua believes all his dad’s lies.
He keeps himself hidden from evil intents
And hopes for a genuine tank as his prize.
 
Though Guido encourages as he is able,
The darkness of war afflicts even charmed lives.
Call it a tragedy, call it a fable,
But Guido ensures that his young son survives.
_________________
 

Life Is Beautiful is essentially two films in one. There are typically comedies with dramatic elements or dramas with comedic elements, but rarely are the two combined so liberally. Roberto Benigni directed and wrote this Best Foreign Language Film of 1997 and excitedly received Best Actor for his alternately silly and heartrending performance as devoted father Guido Orefice. Life Is Beautiful certainly deserves its place as the only foreign-language film in my top 100.

The film starts out as a comedic romp, with much similarity to Miyazaki’s The Castle of Cagliostro, in which a pair of buddies are roaming the countryside (and must fix a flat tire) until the charming rogue of the duo pursues a “princess” who is engaged to a rich man against her will. Guido’s fast-paced, improvisational humor reminded me of Robin Williams, and his shenanigans are so hilarious that his stalker tendencies toward Dora (his real-life wife Nicoletta Braschi) hardly register in anyone’s mind. Though the first half is mostly carefree, there are intermittent clues that, though Guido’s world is all smiles and romance, the world at large is changing for the worse.

By the time Guido’s son (adorable Giorgio Cantarini) enters the picture, national policies and public sentiment have been so subverted by anti-semitism that Guido cannot simply ignore it. Yet politics are hardly even mentioned; instead, Guido shields his four-year-old son from racism and the horrors of the concentration camp with an elaborate hoax that expertly tows the line between funny for Joshua’s sake and distressingly somber for the situation’s. Guido obviously knows his son well, employing reverse psychology and every prudent trick he knows to keep him safe and unanxious. He’s probably the most admirable, selfless cinematic father I’ve ever seen, rivalled by Marlin from Finding Nemo and Chris Gardner from The Pursuit of Happyness.

The film was controversial at the time for its depiction of lightheartedness alongside the Holocaust. I can merely invoke the wisdom of “If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry”; Life Is Beautiful manages both. The horrors and grief of the Holocaust are still thoroughly felt, though not explicitly shown like in Schindler’s List, and it’s clear that Guido’s every upbeat action is for the sake of his son. Without his son and wife to live for, he might very well have succumbed to despondency; it was for his family’s sake that he smiled and laughed through the pain.

Best line: (Guido’s uncle, in an offhand remark that is true on many levels) “Nothing is more necessary than the unnecessary.”
 
VC’s best line: (fellow prisoner Bartolomeo) “They are looking for someone who speaks German to translate their instructions.”
(Guido) “Me! I’ll do it, I’ll translate!”
(Bartolomeo) “Do you speak German?”
(Guido) “No.” [introducing the film’s funniest scene]
 
 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

255 Followers and Counting

#62: Sherlock Holmes (2009) and Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011)

22 Saturday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

,

The game is afoot and seems quickly completed,
As Sherlock Holmes unmasks a villain, defeated.
The creepy Lord Blackwood, a serial killer
Who trusts the occult as his spiritual pillar,
Is hanged for his crimes with no fear or remorse,
And good Dr. Watson confirms it, of course.
 
Though Holmes is the master of facts and deduction,
He’s caught by surprise by a lover’s seduction.
Irene Adler challenges him with a case,
Employed by a man with an unrevealed face,
But Holmes is requested to visit instead
The grave where Lord Blackwood arose from the dead.
 
They follow the case to a dead ginger dwarf,
Whose lab provides clues and a fight near the wharf.
The heads of a secret society ask
The aid of the sleuth in the dubious task
Of thwarting the intrigues of Blackwood perverse,
Before he provokes the world’s ending or worse.
 
Holmes can’t stop the murders that Blackwood commits,
And Watson and he are almost blown to bits.
Deducing that Blackwood has plans to dispose
Of Parliament based on the clues that arose,
Holmes verifies this and then hastes to prevent
The fiend and his world-domination intent.
 
Both Adler and Holmes foil Blackwood’s designs,
And Holmes explains all of his mystical signs,
But there is a piece from the villain’s machine
That somehow was stolen by someone unseen.
The case is reopened, in need of more truth,
For now Moriarty will challenge the sleuth.
___________________
 
The game’s still afoot for the genius detective,
Who’s trying to gauge Moriarty’s objective.
This worthy opponent is clever and sly
And fond of explosions within public eye.
He kills a close friend; from behind college robe,
He has plotted and gathered across the whole globe.
 
When Holmes figures out his next target nearby,
He saves Madame Simza, a Gypsy ally.
He then assists Watson with what he’s been dreading,
His faithful companion’s unstoppable wedding.
When Holmes at last meets Moriarty, the fiend
Explains how more casualties still may be gleaned.
 
The honeymoon train ride is cut a bit short,
And Watson and Holmes then seek Simza’s support.
They find her in Paris and learn as they stay
That something’s not right with her brother Rene.
When Holmes thinks he knows where the villain will strike,
His guess is misled, so they head to the Reich.
 
It’s there Moriarty surprises his foe
And nearly defeats him for all that they know.
It seems Moriarty’s amassed more and more,
Intending to set off a fruitful world war.
His final attempt to precipitate this
Will be at a peace summit held by the Swiss.
 
Rene has been altered to be the assassin,
And Watson and Simza must find and unmask him.
Meanwhile, Holmes mentally duels with his rival
And comes out on top at the risk of survival.
Holmes clinches this as Moriarty’s last visit,
As well as his own last adventure. Or is it?
__________________
 

Robert Downey, Jr., is the king of charisma. After his star-making role as Iron Man in Marvel’s Cinematic Universe, who would have thought he’d find such a similarly dynamic role as another literary hero, Arthur Conan Doyle’s famous detective? There’s no shortage of Sherlock Holmeses out there; all of them have their good points, from Basil Rathbone in the old black-and-white versions to Nicholas Rowe in Young Sherlock Holmes to Benedict Cumberbatch in the recent popular BBC series Sherlock. Yet while I very much enjoy Cumberbatch’s modern-day portrayal of the character, no one captures the intelligence and strangely appealing hubris of the 19th-century Holmes like Robert Downey, Jr. Thankfully, an equally engaging Watson was cast to round out the famous duo; Jude Law is not just a passive observer, but a much younger and more spirited companion than usual, able to match Holmes’s wit at least in their clever repartee.

Much of the credit should also go to director Guy Ritchie, who recreates Victorian England with a uniquely visual steampunk sensibility. Holmes’s famous powers of observation are also depicted with visual flair, usually in flashback, daring viewers to recognize all the details he does. Yet here Holmes is also a physical hero, able to employ his extensive knowledge to take out foes even before he engages them. Unlike the strictly cerebral quality of most traditional Holmes, Ritchie’s films are genuinely thrilling, with explosions, tense standoffs, life-and-death struggles, and a band-saw deathtrap worthy of a horror film, all of which is augmented by the droll humor of Downey and Law.

The first film is the better of the two, simply because of its unexpected enthusiasm, not unlike the awesome energy of J. J. Abrams’s Star Trek reboot that same year. Mark Strong is an effectively eerie challenger for Holmes, and though his satanic ritualism bothered me at first, I was glad that Holmes provided a practical explanation to Blackwood’s illusions. Rachel McAdams is also a strong point as Irene Adler, another ally who can match Holmes in certain situations.

As for A Game of Shadows, it was a worthy follow-up, with more resourceful deductions and a great battle aboard a train, though the film lacked something, perhaps more of Irene Adler. Jared Harris was ideally cast as the cunning and capable Professor Moriarty; but Noomi Rapace as Simza couldn’t quite fill McAdams’s shoes as the main female protagonist, and Stephen Fry was a bit overly odd as Sherlock’s brother Mycroft, with his nude disregard for domestic decency. Despite these weaker secondary characters and an overuse of slow-motion, A Game of Shadows possesses the same creative style, witty banter, and narrative ingenuity as the first, with a genius climax that pays homage to the source material and left me wishing for a third film, which may or may not happen.

The danger of mystery films is that, after unveiling the answers to all the burning questions, the story as a whole can fall apart or simply become less interesting on future viewing. Thus, the challenge for filmmakers is to make the plot as elaborate or convoluted as possible so that repeated watches are rewarded (Christopher Nolan and J. J. Abrams excel at this). Guy Ritchie also succeeds in that regard, with all the flashes of exposition creating a mystery well worth revisiting. Between Hans Zimmer’s outstanding tinny score, Downey’s astute magnetism, and the combination of mystery and action, Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes is definitely my favorite incarnation.

Best line from Sherlock Holmes: (Holmes) “You have the grand gift of silence, Watson; it makes you quite invaluable as a companion.” [followed by a punch from said companion]

Best line from Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows: (Watson, reading a note from Holmes) “’Come at once if convenient.’”  [turns note over] “’If inconvenient, come all the same.’”

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

255 Followers and Counting

#63: The Phantom of the Opera (2004)

21 Friday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

, ,

(Best sung to the title song)
 
Within the opera’s walls,
He lurks unseen.
The Phantom softly calls
To dear Christine.
She sings, impressing all with splendid voice;
The Phantom of the Opera won’t leave
Her any choice.
 
She’s drawn to his allure,
This charming ghoul,
But soon is made unsure
By suave Raoul.
Between her singing coach and childhood friend,
Christine does not know whom she ought to love,
Till threats portend.
 
The opera owners won’t
Obey the ghost
And soon see, when they don’t,
He’s felt the most.
Christine believed she heard an angel sing,
But now she sees the Phantom’s just as mad
As ravishing.
 
The Phantom’s latest play
Is brought to stage;
His mask is torn away
To fear and rage.
He grasps the upper hand for passion’s sake,
But even he must recognize love’s truth,
Despite heartache.
_______________
 

Andrew Lloyd Webber is a master. His musicals have an immersive quality that has garnered multitudes of fans and myriads of awards. It’s one thing for a musical to have a few catchy songs spaced at opportune points throughout a play or film; it’s another to weave a soundtrack in which the songs flow together with such pervasive melody that listeners disregard where one ends and the next begins. Webber has pulled off such a feat several times over, and no film captures that lavish musicality like The Phantom of the Opera.

Joel Schumacher’s films are a mixed bag, and though Batman and Robin still lives in infamy, The Phantom of the Opera redeemed his skills as a director, at least to my mind. From the elaborate exploration of the labyrinthine opera house to the stark winter backdrops, the film has all the spectacle one would expect from a Broadway adaptation. Attention to colors is evident in the frequent combination of black, white, and red, similar to (though not quite as striking as) the red flourishes of The Sixth Sense, with red again representing the presence of the ghost. Though dancing takes a back seat to the glorious music itself, the pantomime choreography in certain scenes is outstanding, particularly during the pomp of “Masquerade.”

None of the acting is quite Oscar-worthy, but again it’s less important than the music. Emmy Rossum is lovely as Christine, though a few notes elude her efforts, such as the final scream of “The Phantom of the Opera.” She’s a talented singer, just not as trained as that of Sarah Brightman, the original Christine and Lloyd Webber’s former wife. Patrick Wilson as Raoul is a bland but handsome lover for her, and Minnie Driver is appropriately dreadful as arrogant diva Carlotta, but the best role is, of course, the Phantom, played with surprising power by Gerard Butler. Though he had no prior singing experience, Butler performs like a pro, with his voice alternating from soft and seductive to severe and monstrous. His is the emotional heart of the film, and though his actions are reprehensible, an Elephant Man-style flashback gives the audience clear reason to pity him and his desire for love, though Butler’s underwhelming make-up doesn’t seem to warrant all the cruelty endured by his character or being described as “hardly a face.” (On a side note for Pirates of the Caribbean fans, I was surprised to see that the Phantom’s onstage victim was played by a barely recognizable Kevin McNally, aka Mr. Gibbs, Jack Sparrow’s first mate.)

The haunting music possesses the rare ability to induce frequent goosebumps, particularly during the Phantom’s sensuous crooning of “The Music of the Night,” by which my VC was especially affected. Lloyd Webber’s venerable arias hold significance for me as well, for I learned to play several during my inconsequential stab at piano lessons, mainly “The Phantom of the Opera,” “All I Ask of You,” “The Music of the Night,” and “Masquerade” (my favorite to play with its staccato strokes). Even when the story itself drags at times, the music is so unforgettably dynamic and the production values so sumptuous that every scene has something to please the eye or ear.

Though the casting is only satisfactory, the human story also carries the film, whether in the colorful world of the opera house of years past to the faded, tragic present. The end brought me to tears the first time, though not for any other character’s loss but for a character’s death itself. My sense of sorrow was simpler back then. All in all, the romance, tragedy, and beauty of The Phantom of the Opera come extremely close to living up to its glorious music.

Best line: (Christine, to the Phantom) “This haunted face holds no horror for me now. It’s in your soul that the true distortion lies.”

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

252 Followers and Counting

#64: Awakenings (1990)

20 Thursday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Young Leonard Lowe became aware
His hands began to twitch and shake.
He soon could only sit and stare,
The same asleep as when awake.
 
For thirty years, this chronic sign
Could not be cured by constant care,
Until, in 1969,
There came self-conscious Dr. Sayer.
 
He noticed similarities
And had the courage to opine
That patients, though their bodies seize,
Could still be reached in their decline.
 
A drug administered to Lowe
Released him from eternal freeze.
To him, it was as years ago,
Before his thirty-year disease.
 
The other patients too were freed
And had the privilege to know
The joy of every self-done deed
And liberty to say hello.
 
And yet such freedom had to stall;
The drug wore off with daunting speed,
And Leonard was the first to fall,
Soon powerless to move or read.
 
Despite the agonizing cost,
Sayer still heard Leonard’s silent call.
‘Tis better to have lived and lost
Than never to have lived at all.
_______________
 

Before Robin Williams earned his Oscar for Good Will Hunting, he deserved one for Awakenings. Based off the true story of Dr. Oliver Sacks, Awakenings depicts the debilitating effects of a post-encephalitic brain disorder that left its victims with so many tics and tremors that they effectively froze, and the brief return to life that an experimental drug afforded them. With its subtly beautiful score and moving performances, Awakenings deserved so much more praise than it received in a year dominated by Dances with Wolves, Goodfellas, and Ghost.

Though slightly sentimental, the acting is phenomenal, not just for its nuance and realism but because of who was cast. This was not Robin Williams’s first dramatic role, but considering his proven comic energy, the level of control he exhibits to play a timid but impassioned neurologist is exceptional. Likewise, Robert De Niro sheds his tough-guy gangster persona (seen even that year in Goodfellas) for a sensitive portrayal of helplessness as Leonard Lowe. He, at least, was nominated for Best Actor and definitely deserved it. Other excellent roles include Julie Kavner (Marge Simpson) as supportive nurse Eleanor Costello and John Heard as nay-saying Dr. Kaufman, whose negativity is rebuffed with a communal donation similar to Rudy’s jersey scene.

Though he is fonder of plants than people, Dr. Sayer insists that there is still hope for the frozen chronic cases and relentlessly endeavors to reach them by any means possible, including an actually practical use for a Ouija board. I remember how my mom choked up a bit at the reunion of the awakened Leonard with his mother. The joy of the patients, including Anne Meara and Alice Drummond (the librarian from Ghostbusters), and their families is keenly felt as an almost literal resurrection from the dead. Their return to life and the realization of their lost decades are poignant and occasionally humorous as they adapt to their new circumstances and try to live as they could not, with “the freedom of life, the wonderment of life.” The loss of that freedom is heartbreaking as Leonard twitches and convulses like an advanced Parkinson’s patient. Such spasms could have become ridiculous with a lesser actor, but De Niro retains the human connection that holds the tragedy in his potentially grotesque performance.

Because of the helpless agony endured, one might wonder about the morality of letting such suffering continue. While such concerns are raised, the solutions luckily never veer toward euthanasia, even as the patients return to their vegetative states. Leonard’s mother knew he was aware of her presence, and his brain responded to his own name. Such details and the patients’ awakenings themselves proved that, however deep within, they were still alive and entitled to care and love.

Awakenings may not be as popular as their other films, but my VC and I consider it the best for Robin Williams, Robert De Niro, and director Penny Marshall. Compared with their others, it is also a thoroughly clean film, save for a lone, unnecessary F-word. It’s sobering, though, to consider that Williams’s knowledge of the effects of Parkinson’s from this film may have factored into his suicide when he learned he was in the early stages; I hope and pray that one day we will understand the human brain well enough to assist those still suffering from such chronic conditions.

Best line: (Anthony, an orderly, as all of the awakened patients are excitedly running around) “I think I liked ‘em better the other way.”

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

251 Followers and Counting

#65: Fantasia (1940)

19 Wednesday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, , ,

The power of classical music is known,
And here now Walt Disney has made it his own
With images striking in color and tone.
 
The instruments hum to Bach’s ominous beat,
And fishes and flowers and fairies petite
All dance to Tchaikovsky’s own Nutcracker Suite.
 
Poor Mickey, apprentice to wizard Yen Sid,
Enlivens a broom that he cannot forbid,
And only his mage can undo what he did.
 
Stravinsky is next, as the earth is beginning,
And life conceives dinosaurs, fighting and grinning,
But even T. Rexes do not end up winning.
 
Then Beethoven yields us a pastoral spy
At amorous centaurs and cute pegasi
And thunderous parties that never run dry.
 
The animals prance through a fanciful day
Of hippos and elephants, who soon fall prey
To covetous gators, who love their buffet.
 
At last, evil Chernabog reigns o’er the night
And every last hellion, phantom, and fright,
Until they are banished by heavenly light.
__________________
 

If any animated film deserves a 10 for artistry, it’s Walt Disney’s masterpiece Fantasia. Possibly the most well-known experimental film of all time, Disney’s efforts to immortalize classical treasures in an animated framework were not particularly successful with audiences in 1940, but the intervening decades have proven its unique combination of potent music and images.

I’ll be honest: it’s an excellent film to fall asleep to, but also equally excellent to scrutinize. Touching on a wide range of subjects, it presents a compendious view of mythology, popular “science,” and the struggle of good versus evil. Even at its cutest and most child-centered, Fantasia oozes imaginative virtuosity, such as the giddy symbolism of Ponchielli’s Dance of the Hours.

On the one hand, most of the vignettes tell a core story that sticks in one’s mind, particularly those who viewed it as a child: the romance and storm of The Pastoral Symphony, the traumatic dinosaur fight of The Rite of Spring, and especially Mickey’s most memorable escapade in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. On the other hand, some more than others indulge in dancing colors and beautiful shenanigans that don’t really follow a linear narrative. (The occasionally psychedelic images led to the film’s newfound popularity in the drugged-up ‘60s.) I’m not always fond of “art for art’s sake,” but the ways in which Disney complemented the music with his fluid and captivating animation are nothing short of genius.

Though some early music critics objected to Disney’s additions to their favorite opuses, most of the pieces of music used owe much of their iconic status to the images Disney so expertly provided. Disney had wanted to continue Fantasia in subsequent years with further sequences set to various other works, and it’s a shame that the film’s initial unprofitability left that plan unfeasible (though several reissues over the years have propelled it to both considerable fame and revenue). I would have liked to have seen his take on Sibelius’s Finlandia, Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons, Holst’s The Planets, or Strauss’s Also sprach Zarathustra (before Stanley Kubrick got his hands on it for 2001: A Space Odyssey).

There are a few images some parents might balk at, such as the Stegosaurus death, the centaur women’s nudity, and the frighteningly demonic Night on Bald Mountain, but nothing detracts from the overall majesty of Disney’s work. The final piece is probably the most effective, particularly the contrast between Bald Mountain and Ave Maria and the quiet but implacable dominance of the latter over the former. It may not be his most entertaining, but Fantasia is Disney at his most poetic.

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

251 Followers and Counting

#66: Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971)

18 Tuesday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

(Best sung to “I’ve Got a Golden Ticket”)
 
Charlie has little reason to
Hope for a bit of luck anew,
But then golden tickets, just a few,
Make their abrupt debut.
 
He dreams of a golden ticket,
Even as four other dreams come true.
 
Suddenly golden hopes arise;
Charlie receives a chance to see
Old Willy Wonka’s big surprise,
His chocolate factory.
 
Along with four other winners,
Charlie is shown wonders one can chew.
 
As they are led from room to room,
Four rotten brats near meet their doom,
And Charlie is the last one.
Even though Wonka tries him still,
Charlie’s sweet heart imparts goodwill,
And suddenly, the testing is done.
He finds that he’s won!
 
Though all the other children fell,
Charlie has proven he is right
For Wonka’s secrets him to tell,
To everyone’s delight.
 
Because of that golden ticket,
Charlie is fulfilled and flying high,
And Willy Wonka’s found the apple of his eye.
_____________
 

My earlier review of Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory essentially stated that Burton gets nearly everything right, except Willy Wonka; the original Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory gets nearly everything right, including Willy Wonka. The classic children’s musical doesn’t have the visuals or the polished look of Burton’s remake, but it has the same wonky, daftly absurd combination of humor and heart that made Roald Dahl’s book such a success.

Though I actually prefer now Freddie Highmore’s Charlie, Peter Ostrum is still admirable as the lone good apple of the bunch, and his relationship with Jack Albertson’s Grandpa Joe is more familial and evident than in the remake, possibly due to the absence of Mr. Bucket. All of the children are appropriately detestable in different ways, with Julie Dawn Cole as Veruca Salt being the most insufferable, and their comeuppances are all the more satisfying for their impudence. Of course, the star of the picture (aside from Charlie) is Willy Wonka himself, and Gene Wilder is perfect as the titular candy maker, even though Dahl had preferred Spike Milligan for the role. Whereas Johnny Depp’s Wonka displayed peculiarities more disturbing than endearing, Wilder spouts classical quotations and jumps between languages effortlessly, playing the candy man as eccentric and only occasionally trending toward insane. Granted, that boat ride is downright creepy (a chicken’s head being cut off? really?), but the rest of Wonka’s antics have a fun weirdness which, as Charlie says, is not necessarily bad. Wilder captures that ideal gray area between sanity and insanity that a character like Willy Wonka requires (and that Johnny Depp couldn’t quite attain), though I would have liked some indication that the bratty kids were indeed all right, as the book and remake did.

Roald Dahl himself despised the film’s changes to his book, and though I agree that the “fizzy lifting drinks” part was unnecessary and detracted from Charlie’s natural goodness, I think that Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory still does his work justice (of course, purely from a reader’s standpoint). Various annoying habits are properly skewered, such as gum-chewing, gluttony, and television addictions, while Charlie’s decency is allowed to shine and be rewarded. The sheer imagination of Dahl’s book is brought to colorful life in the chocolate room sequence; who wouldn’t want to cavort through those edible fields? Though Dahl’s own songs from the book are omitted (and later utilized in Burton’s remake), Willy Wonka’s Oscar-nominated soundtrack is full of memorable ditties that live on from childhood, reaching high points with “I’ve Got a Golden Ticket” and “I Want It Now.”

Other films may have appealed to Dahl’s odd sensibilities more, such as Matilda, James and the Giant Peach, The Fantastic Mr. Fox, or Burton’s take on the Chocolate Factory, but none are quite as delectably appealing as this first Dahl film adaptation. Willy Wonka has only grown in popularity over the years, becoming somewhat of a cult film, and continues to be a scrumdiddlyumptious delight for young and old.

Best line: (Mr. Salt, boarding the Wonkatania) “Ladies first, and that means Veruca.”   (Grandpa Joe, to Charlie) “If she’s a lady, I’m a Vermicious Knid.”

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

249 Followers and Counting

#67: Paulie (1998)

17 Monday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, ,

Who knows what the caged bird feels inside?
If you ask him kind, he may speak his mind.
Little Paulie once was a speaking guide
For his dear Marie, who was too tongue-tied,
But her parents sent him away confined.
He refused to fly, though he missed her so,
And was passed along to and fro.
 
When old Ivy purchased this garrulous bird,
She taught him manners and served his quest
To find Marie, though her sight was blurred,
And he served her too with his every word
Till his search compelled him to soar out west.
Though his owners changed while he still was free,
He dreamed of his dear Marie.
 
Eventually found by an institute,
Paulie found that speech was a gift and curse,
For a wrong word led to a new dispute
That resigned the bird to a dark cage, mute…
Till at last there arrived one glad to converse,
And his aid allowed him again to roam.
The caged bird found his home.
___________________
 

Paulie is yet another example of the unique power of the “Meet ‘em and Move On” sub-genre. The genre can apply to animals just as much as people, and following Paulie on his cross-country trek is like watching Forrest Gump as a parrot.  This was yet another Childhood Tearjerker that tugged at my callow heartstrings from beginning to end. Told mostly in flashback, Paulie’s story depicts how he learned from and touched each of his previous owners, both positively and negatively, and how the unique property of speech can indeed be a double-edged sword.

The cast is made up mostly of secondary character actors, such as Tony Shalhoub as Russian janitor and listener Misha Belenkoff, Cheech Marin as Hispanic parrot trainer Ignacio, Hallie Eisenberg (Jesse’s sister; funny how he played a parrot in Rio) as young Marie, Bruce Davison (Senator Kelly from X-Men) as guileful Dr. Reingold, and Jay Mohr as both small-time crook Benny and the titular conure himself. Interestingly, Bill Cobbs shows Misha around the lab early on, a scene reminiscent of the beginning of Night at the Museum, in which Cobbs again played an aged night watchman. Gena Rowlands steals the film’s middle section with her mannerly role as Ivy. Paulie’s interactions with her and Marie are undeniably sweet, and even when he’s sidetracked or indulges in a “fowl mouth,” we’re always rooting for him to reach his beloved owner, like a modern-day Lassie.

Many films have featured lovable animal protagonists, ranging from dogs, cats, pigs, horses, and even mice, but birds are much harder to develop a connection with than mammals. With both real birds and an occasional puppet, Paulie infuses such personality into the little green parrot, naïve yet wise-cracking, innocent yet smart aleck, that he truly seems like a person. His situation in the institute even touches upon the unfairness of misusing a sentient animal, if such a creature were ever to emerge. I’m more of a cat person, but if any film could make me consider a bird as a pet, it’s Paulie.

Best line: (Paulie, as Misha is urging him to explain his circumstances) “It’s a long story.”  (Misha) “I’m Russian. I like long stories!”

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

247 Followers and Counting

#68: Home Alone (1990)

16 Sunday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

The McCallister household is full
Of family; no moment is dull.
It’s Christmas; they’re stressed,
And young Kevin’s a pest
And makes one and all miserable.
 
He wishes they’d all go away,
And when they wake up the next day,
They rush to vacation
And, leaving the nation,
Find Kevin just happened to stay.
 
As Mom is consumed with concern
And does all she can to return,
Her son, home alone,
With no parents or phone,
Is thrilled with this fortunate turn.
 
While Kevin has fun and makes merry,
Two cat burglars named Marv and Harry
Are eyeing with guile
His rich domicile,
But Kevin is gleefully wary.
 
Right after the boy comes to terms
With a man who benignly confirms
The importance of kin,
Kevin leaves to begin
Preparing for two burglar worms.
 
With booby traps set everywhere,
He catches the pair unaware.
The bumbling knaves
And the vengeance each craves
Are no match for his every snare.
 
The McCallister home is defended.
And family rapport is commended.
Our kid’s reunited
With family delighted,
Though his fight with crooks isn’t ended.
________________
 

Home Alone was one of the most successful live-action comedies ever made, topping the box office for twelve weeks and making its combination of charm and torture a holiday staple. Written by John Hughes and directed by Mrs. Doubtfire’s Chris Columbus, the now-classic Christmas movie made young Macaulay Culkin a household name and (hopefully) prevented countless parents from neglecting to bring along their children on vacation.

The film doesn’t start off like the kind of film I would enjoy. Kevin and his relatives are realistically bratty, with little reason to like any of them. Once he is actually left alone, the plot improves dramatically. What kid hasn’t wanted the whole house to themselves and the freedom to do what they want when they want how they want? Yet Kevin turns out to be surprisingly responsible, in contrast to his inattentive mother (and father), who spends the rest of the film mostly making up for her lapse in judgment by displaying sympathetic, if pointless, worry for her abandoned child. Luckily, though, the blame isn’t all on her: Kevin is by no means an angel and his admittance of such allows him some proper remorse. His conversation with Old Man Marley (Roberts Blossom) in the church perfectly addresses both of their familial conflicts. (Incidentally, the scene begins with my VC’s favorite Christmas song, “O Holy Night,” and ends with mine, “Carol of the Bells.”)

Of course, much of the film’s credit should go to Daniel Stern and Joe Pesci as Marv and Harry, the two bumbling thieves who deserve a place amongst memorable comedic odd couples. Their persistence is matched only by their stupidity in walking into trap after trap set by the devious boy of the house. Pesci’s constant muttering of “Razzin, frazzin…” is hilarious (yes, he amuses me), while the spider scene proves Stern as one of the great male screamers of our time. Plus, for added comedy, Hughes brought along John Candy from Planes, Trains, and Automobiles for a small but humorous role as a kindhearted polka bum.

John Williams’ carol-infused score is also outstanding, and his own little noel, “Somewhere in My Memory,” deserves a spot in my End Credits Song Hall of Fame. Only the sweet closing scenes are actually set on Christmas, but the whole film illustrates the Christmas season, with films like It’s a Wonderful Life (in French!) and Miracle on 34th Street included for good measure. Also, it thankfully doesn’t shy away from the sacred aspects of Christmas, including a crèche scene, a church, and themes of forgiveness. All in all, Macaulay Culkin’s first major role was his best, yet another Christmas film that my family revisits year after year.

Best line: (Kate McCallister/Mom) “Tell me, have you ever gone on vacation and left your child home?”
(Polka king Gus, after a pause) “No, no. But I did leave one at a funeral parlor once. Yeah, it was—was terrible too. I was all distraught and everything, you know, the wife and I, and we left the little tyke there in the funeral parlor all day. All day. You know, we went back at night, when you know, we came to our senses, and there he was, apparently he was there alone all day with the corpse. Yeah, he was okay, you know, after six, seven weeks he came around and started talking again… But he’s okay. You know, they get over it; kids are resilient like that.”
(Kate) “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this.”
 
Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

247 Followers and Counting

#69: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)

15 Saturday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , ,

(Can be sung to “Topsy Turvy”)
 
Here it is—a classic turned to cartoon gem!
Gypsies are the group Parisians most condemn;
Frollo has ambitions to extinguish them,
But one night he finds a baby boy.
Guilted into caring for this malformed thing,
Frollo calls him Quasimodo, who must ring
Notre Dame’s colossal bells, diminishing his joy.
 
Quasimodo dreams of being free to leave
Out among the people on a feast day’s eve.
Though he knows such impudence would surely grieve
Frollo, he still dares to go outside.
Esmeralda, quite the beauty, leaves all wowed
Until Quasimodo is with fame endowed.
Jubilation turns to torture as the crowds deride.
 
Esmeralda’s act of grace makes Frollo rage.
Notre Dame becomes her grand, imposing cage,
Until Quasimodo helps her disengage,
Much to Frollo’s fatuous chagrin.
As his own obsession sees all Paris burn,
Frollo writes off Captain Phoebus’ clear concern.
Quasi warns the Gypsies but lets Frollo learn and win.
 
Frollo passes doom upon the girl with lust,
But the hunchback rescues her ere she combusts.
He announces sanctuary, as he must,
And defends the church from those outside.
Frollo gets his just desserts when he strikes first;
Quasimodo, even though his face is cursed,
Finds acceptance as the insults are reversed with pride.
_______________
 

Sometimes cited as a sign of the waning of the Disney Renaissance, The Hunchback of Notre Dame was actually an astounding reminder of the skill and power of Disney animation. Considering how different the source material was from Disney’s usual fare, it’s a wonder that Hunchback even got off the ground, and its uncharacteristically dark themes set it apart from most of their canon. Though some detractors accused the film of watering down Victor Hugo’s original novel, Disney’s Hunchback succeeds in capturing the power of his immortal story in a compelling package that both kids and adults can enjoy on different levels.

I’ve always loved animation that can entertain a mature audience without dwelling on mature content. Hunchback’s themes include prejudice, compassion, genocide, obsession, damnation, eternal damnation, and unrequited love, and as a kid, hardly any of that registered in my mind. I could recognize the presence of more sophisticated topics and emotions, but I simply enjoyed the music, the humor, and the more facile lessons. More recent viewings have revealed layers I never noticed before. For instance, Disney has a long history of comic relief sidekicks, yet here they feature the humorous gargoyles as Quasimodo’s straightforward allies, as well as imaginary friends that reflect his long solitude and inner psyche. Thus, though they are the most kid-focused aspect of the film, they serve a purpose that is not entirely out of step with the serious narrative.

The film’s most outstanding aspect is Alan Menken’s music, possibly his greatest Disney score ever. While other films’ songs may be catchier or more charming, Menken has crafted an illustrious, flowing score that can join those few other musicals that deserve to be christened “glorious.” The singers are also well-cast, particularly Paul Kandel as narrator Clopin, whose high note on “The Bells of Notre Dame” instantly provokes goosebumps. Tom Hulce’s soft voice lends sincerity to Quasimodo’s “Out There” and “Heaven’s Light,” while Tony Jay’s inimitably low tones endow Frollo with austerity and menace such that I’m surprised I haven’t recognized his baritone more often. Frollo is arguably the most villainous of Disney baddies; rather than fratricide or megalomania, he is willing to damn an entire city and his immortal soul for his own lustful pursuits, hauntingly presented in the song “Hellfire.” The non-singing roles are also memorable, including Demi Moore as Esmeralda (different singing voice) and Kevin Kline as the instantly likable Phoebus (yet another positive change from the novel).

In addition to the music, the hand-drawn animation is stunning, with a crispness absent from most other Disney features. The attention to shadows contributes to the animation’s realism, and the crowd scenes are remarkably detailed and impressive, especially Quasimodo’s rescue of Esmeralda.

The film also doesn’t completely sugarcoat its subject matter; an entirely crowd-pleasing ending would have paired Quasimodo with Esmeralda, but though she doesn’t die as in the book, the filmmakers leave the film serious enough to not allow Quasi’s every dream to come true. It’s a surprising move for a company that rarely leaves its leads without companionship, though they left the unrealistic romance to a lesser sequel. The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a singular achievement in book-to-musical adaptation, and I’d like to see if such a feat could be pulled off with some other grim classic. Since The Phantom of the Opera, Oliver Twist, and Les Miserables have already been taken, perhaps The Count of Monte Cristo or A Tale of Two Cities? You never know.

Best line: (Laverne, the gargoyle) “Quasi, take it from an old spectator. Life’s not a spectator sport. If watchin’ is all you’re gonna do, then you’re gonna watch your life go by without ya.”

 
Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

245 Followers and Counting