Category Archives: Writing

#80: Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

04 Tuesday Nov 2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2014 S. G. Liput

239 Followers and Counting

 

#81: Gone with the Wind (1939)

03 Monday Nov 2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 
Rank: 54 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

239 Followers and Counting

#82: Aladdin (1992)

02 Sunday Nov 2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

 
Rank: 54 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

237 Followers and Counting

 

#83: Saints and Soldiers (2003)

01 Saturday Nov 2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

 
Rank: 54 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

237 Followers and Counting

 

#84: Aliens (1986)

31 Friday Oct 2014

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When Ripley and her dormant cat are woken from their sleep,
She learns that decades have elapsed while she was counting sheep.
The Company through Burke assures her everything is fine;
The hostile sphere she visited shows no unfriendly sign.
Though she insists an alien originated there,
Burke tells her that a colony was founded with no scare.
 
But when contact is lost with it, Burke wants to check it out,
Convincing Ripley to advise, despite initial doubt.
She meets some swaggering marines, all eager for offense,
And android Bishop, whom she hates from past experience.
The colony is empty, though there clearly was a fight,
And only Newt, a shaken girl, survived the violent fright.
 
Their search for captured colonists in dark and sticky halls
Soon threatens their survival as the creatures climb the walls.
Their numbers are diminished, and when they attempt to leave,
Their landing ship is totaled; it’s game over, they believe.
Retreating to the building where they hole up to prepare,
They learn that Burke had other plans he did not want to share.
 
He tries to salvage his whole plan and traps Ripley and Newt
With two facehuggers in a room with nothing they can shoot.
The two are rescued just in time for everything they feared,
Which thins the herd to only three when Newt is commandeered.
The complex is about to blow, but Ripley follows Newt,
Retrieving her and ticking off the alien queen to boot.
 
Though Bishop swoops in just in time to clear them of the blast,
The queen appears on board the ship to menace to the last.
Within a power loader, Ripley fights the ugly face
Until she blows the giant nightmare into outer space.
The few survivors settle down for travel stasis then,
And Ripley’s free of aliens…until she wakes again.
_________________
 

How convenient that a sci-fi horror should fall on Halloween! Just as James Cameron turned his unnerving The Terminator into a slam-bang actioner, he traded the ominous chills of Ridley Scott’s Alien for all-out combat (and added an s) for its sequel.  In doing so, he created one of the best of all three genres: action, horror, and science fiction. Aliens has reckless gun fights, punk Marines, and giant explosions, coupled with claustrophobic interiors, spidery stalkers, and a terrifying addition to the lineup of giant movie monsters. All of it combines to keep hearts racing in every scene (and perhaps a little the following night as well).

In films like this, most of the characters are mere afterthoughts meant to be exterminated, but Cameron succeeds in creating memorable individuals amid all the hysteria. Bill Paxton’s panicky Hudson, Paul Reiser’s weasely Burke, Jenette Goldstein’s brawny Vasquez, and Michael Biehn’s level-headed Hicks feel like real characters amid all the action, even though they lack the mundane setup of the first film’s victims. Lance Henriksen’s Bishop tows the line between creepy and reliable, thankfully offering the opposite of the original’s Ash. Above all, Sigourney Weaver continues her compelling role of Ripley and gets an opportunity to display motherly tenacity as she bonds with the traumatized Newt. Her fierce performance even gained her an unforeseen Oscar nomination.

For still being a fairly new director at the time, James Cameron brilliantly recaptures the mood of the original while intensifying it in some ways. How do you enhance a creature feature? Answer: by turning one monstrosity into hundreds. What’s more affecting for an audience than a cat in danger? Answer: a child in danger. Although it’s much more fast-paced than the original, there’s still plenty of nightmare fodder, particularly some now iconic scenes, like the aliens crawling through the ceiling or one rising up behind Newt.

Aliens also stands in my memory as the first film in which I heard the F-word. That could have been cause for me to dislike it, but ignoring the profanity, the chest-bursting, and the character being torn in half, the movie’s thrilling entertainment value makes up for these negative aspects and leaves the first film in the dust. My VC also loves the film, even though she had to check under her bed after first viewing it. This was the Alien franchise’s high point (don’t bother with the other sequels) and a high point in multiple genres.

Best line: (Hudson) “That’s it, man. Game over, man! Game over!”

 
Rank: 54 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

236 Followers and Counting

 

#85: Shadowlands (1993)

30 Thursday Oct 2014

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C. S. Lewis is content to live as he has always done,
To teach and study, chat with colleagues, answer questions he presents.
He is happy to debate on arguments he knows he’s won.
Both he and Oxford rarely change, for they’ve got all the common sense.
 
Then in 1952, he meets Joy Gresham, who’s a fan,
A poet and American who leaves him speechless now and then.
Soul and intellect converge to make her special to this man,
Whose own experience with love is only in his reading den.
 
Fleeting visits with her son endear her to the author till
Divorce allows them to relocate to the London she admires.
By entreaty, Lewis marries Joy, a sign of their good will,
But even then he does not see the happiness that she inspires.
 
Sadly, Joy is cancer-stricken, and the promise of her loss
Convinces Lewis that he loves her deeply, though he knows not how.
He requests a holy marriage as he helps her bear her cross.
When she recovers for a time, they both are faithful to their vow.
 
Honeymooning is idyllic until Joy reminds instead
That as a part of happiness, they can’t ignore the coming grief.
Death arrives, and life goes on despite the tears her darlings shed.
Experience best helps us learn of truest love, however brief.
__________________
 

Shadowlands is one of the purest and most poignant of biographical romances. From the popular Narnia series to the insightful The Screwtape Letters, C. S. Lewis (Jack, to his friends) ranks among my favorite authors, and no one could bring him to life like Anthony Hopkins. Coming only two years after his star-making role in The Silence of the Lambs, there is no trace of the deranged serial killer here; instead, Hopkins embodies Lewis’s intelligence, wisdom, and genuine surprise at the advent of love. Oscar nominee Debra Winger may have seemed like an odd choice to portray his beloved Joy Gresham (pen name Joy Davidman), but their interactions have a warmth and reality that gradually morphs their professional respect into personal chemistry.

The late Richard Attenborough was a skilled director, but even his Oscar-winning Gandhi does not compare to Shadowlands. Instead of the sweeping view of a legendary life, he gives us a quiet, contemplative story of unexpected romance that, to me and my VC, is much more moving and intimate. The direction is understated but beautiful throughout, allowing emotions, reverence, and beauty to permeate every scene. On top of all that, the script is intelligent, being based on William Nicholson’s TV and stage productions.

Early monologues by Lewis establish his views on pain as “God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world,” but he has never experienced such pain since childhood. His attachment to and loss of Joy might have made him contradict his prior beliefs, but even when his and Douglas’s faith is shaken, it isn’t repudiated. Rather, the main intellectual conflict is the disparity between knowledge and experience, without either really negating the other. It’s a classic case of “easier said than done”; philosophizing is fine on one level, but experience challenges the detached serenity with which Lewis views the world as an Oxford professor. His prior lesson still applies, but the moral difficulty of pain becomes more real when it is endured firsthand. Even when we know the suffering yet to come, we love anyway, a mystery of being human that even Lewis could not fully explain.

At the beginning, the film claims that “This is a true story,” which is only mostly true. It does omit Joy’s other son David Gresham, only depicting the more well-known Douglas (played by young Joseph Mazzello, who was in Jurassic Park that same year). Also, the film focuses on Lewis’s academic and personal life without touching on his literary life: he published numerous books during the film’s events, including several Narnia installments. Even so, the story is undeniably powerful, though it is rather slow and best watched when one is fully awake, eating, or both. My VC, who “adores” Anthony Hopkins in this rare romantic leading role, would rank Shadowlands in her top 50 and just recently was able to view it without crying. Beautiful and heartbreaking, Shadowlands is Attenborough’s masterpiece.

Best line: (Harry, a friend) “Christopher can scoff, Jack, but I know how hard you’ve been praying, and now God is answering your prayers.”   (Lewis) “That’s not why I pray, Harry. I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God; it changes me.”

VC’s best line: (Lewis, to Joy) “Will you marry this foolish, frightened old man… who needs you more than he can bear to say… who loves you, even though he hardly knows how?”

 
Rank: 54 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

235 Followers and Counting

 

#86: Hook (1991)

29 Wednesday Oct 2014

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When Peter Pan grows up at last,
Forgetting all about the past,
Of Neverland, Lost Boys, and fairies,
He just settles down and marries
Wendy’s daughter Moira and
Becomes a father, dull and bland.
 
A businessman now, Peter spares
No time for Jack and Maggie’s cares,
Until they’re nabbed by Captain Hook.
The Pan has no clue where to look,
But Tinker Bell with pixie dust
Arrives, despite his lack of trust.
 
She spirits him to Neverland,
Where Hook has his kids close at hand,
But Peter’s weak and scared of heights
And not prepared for fights or flights.
So Tink compels old Hook to grant
Three days to sharpen this transplant.
 
The Lost Boys, led by Rufio,
Are quick to ambush those that grow;
They doubt this codfish is the Pan,
Yet Peter’s face persuades the clan.
His training yields no vindication
Till he finds imagination.
 
In the meantime, Hook ensnares
Young Jack by putting on such airs
To make the boy loyal to Hook,
The famous pirate chief and crook.
Though Peter’s shaken by this fact,
He finds his happy thought intact.
 
His love and hope of fatherhood
Bring back old Peter Pan for good.
He plays, he fights, he crows once more
And takes the battle to Hook’s door.
Pan rescues Maggie from her cell
And proves himself to Jack as well.
 
He duels with Hook and bests the fop
Before Hook’s swallowed by a prop.
Then Peter names his new right hand
And, with his kids, leaves Neverland.
Distractions will no longer be
A thorn for Peter’s family.
________________
 

Steven Spielberg’s contribution to the Peter Pan mythos wasn’t especially well-received in 1991, but it has become a family favorite since. The late Robin Williams is perfectly cast as the grown-up Peter, combining his proven dramatic ability with the comedic juvenility of his man-child persona. Likewise, Dustin Hoffman owns the title role, utterly unrecognizable under the elaborate wig and pirate costume, and embodies both Hook’s villainy and his preening arrogance. Other excellent performances come from Bob Hoskins as the bearded Smee and Julia Roberts as Tinker Bell, whose “pixie” cut (J) and perkiness hid well her engagement turmoil at the time of the film’s production.

What many criticized was the film’s supposedly halfhearted re-creation of Neverland, but while it’s not the most memorable of wonderlands, Spielberg’s Neverland has a charm of its own. The sets are obviously sets, yet they somehow fit the story, as if recalling Peter Pan’s stage origins. The pirate village is a particularly impressive mise en scène, with all the theatricality of an elaborate play, which I sometimes prefer to the overly wrought CGI dream worlds that have become routine nowadays. The games the Lost Boys play feel like genuine activities such unsupervised youngsters would invent in a magical world, and they’re given more unique personalities than the Disney version, which essentially differentiated most of them simply by their costumes. There is silliness on both sides, as well as some pirate-y violence, but even when the film’s tone shifts, it retains a giddy adventurousness that is continually entertaining.

One aspect that raises Hook above other Peter Pan films is the message of fatherhood. The idea of Peter Pan growing up might seem unimaginable, but his desire for a family, to be a daddy, is an admirable reason for the end of a legend. While his focus on work at the expense of his family is practically tragic at the beginning, his fully-realized love for his kids creates a satisfying return to priorities by the end. In the interim is a fanciful tale of Peter rediscovering the joy of both being a child and becoming a father.

Best line (just the way Williams says it): (Peter) “I do not believe in fairies.”
(Tinker Bell) “Every time someone says ‘I do not believe in fairies,’ somewhere there’s a fairy that falls down dead.”
(Peter) “I do not believe in fairies!”
[Tink feigns an overly dramatic death scene]
(Peter) “Oh my God, I think I’ve killed it.”
 
Rank: 53 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

235 Followers and Counting

 

#87: Young Frankenstein (1974)

28 Tuesday Oct 2014

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When Victor Frankenstein—I mean,
When Dr. Victor Fronkensteen
Is told he has an old estate
From great-granddad (who is dead bait),
He leaves his fussy fiancée
To see this castle, old and gray,
And meets the humpbacked help Igor
(Pronounced Eye-gor to underscore)
And adjunct Inga, who both bring
The doctor to his castle wing,
Where he explores the secret rooms,
Becomes the man the world assumes
And, gripped by mania, begins
To resurrect old bones and skins
To bring to life a creature, his,
But “abby normal” its brain is,
And to his horror it’s released,
The monstrous, strong, dim-witted beast,
To terrorize the neighborhood
Until he lures it back for good
And gives the brute a second chance
To be his own and sing and dance,
Yet villagers are not impressed
And plan to kill the giant pest,
Who flees and has a fling that day
With Victor’s willing fiancée,
Until he’s gently drawn once more
By Victor, Inga, and Igor
And given part of Victor’s brain
To make him cultured and urbane,
At which point everything works out
And neither has to do without,
For both have love and seem benign,
Both monster/man and Frankenstein.
________________
 

Often ranked among the funniest films of all time, Young Frankenstein is Mel Brooks’s finest film. With its haunting score and black-and-white cinematography, it brilliantly feigns solemnity while piling on absurdities both familiar and new. It indulges in Brooks’s penchant for sexual humor without wallowing in it and reminds everyone just how funny Gene Wilder could be. The script by Brooks and Wilder has a screwy charm, with lines like “Walk this way” being turned into opportunities for unforeseen silliness that reward multiple viewings. (That line even inspired the lyrics of Aerosmith’s single “Walk This Way.”)

All the actors are at the top of their comedic game. Wilder has a unique talent for acting maniacally crazed, while Marty Feldman’s bug eyes make him an ideal Eye-gor, shifting hump and all. The comedians are at their best when they themselves struggle to keep their composure, such as when Wilder and Feldman discuss the “abby normal” brain. Madeline Khan and Kenneth Mars reunite from What’s Up, Doc?, and Mars’s capacity for inscrutable accents continues to be hilarious. Cloris Leachman is especially memorable as the frigid Frau Blücher [horse neighs in fright]. Lastly, Peter Boyle as Frankenstein’s monster, perhaps the straightest role, combines lumbering pathos, a short temper, and some self-aware glances at the audience. Plus, one can’t forget Gene Hackman’s cameo as an espresso-making blind man.

The best parodies have a comedic voice of their own besides just pointing out their similarities with other films. On one level, Young Frankenstein works as an homage to Universal’s old Frankenstein movies, even employing the same mad-scientist equipment from the 1930s; on the other hand, it spoofs them with abandon, delivering endless original laughs with spinning bookcases, aimless dart games, and mute pleas for “sedagive.” Even now, forty years later, this is Mel Brooks at his best.

Best line (out of too many): (Igor, poking his head out the door as a test) “Blücher!” [horses whinny]

 
Rank: 53 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

234 Followers and Counting

 

#88: The Ten Commandments (1956)

27 Monday Oct 2014

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The land of Egypt built its wonders high
Upon the backs of Hebrew slaves of old,
Who prayed that God salvation would supply,
And so He did, His people to uphold.
A baby borne upon the Nile’s waves
To rescue him from edicts merciless
Proceeded from the desperate blood of slaves
But found a home in Pharaoh’s house to bless.
Though Moses prospered as a faithful prince,
He learned the truth, and crime forced banishment.
At last, with burning bush, God did convince
His chosen one to turn and represent.
Though Moses wielded power from the Lord,
His “brother” Rameses would not free his race.
The death of every firstborn by God’s sword
Allowed the Hebrews freedom from this place.
Through sundered sea and senseless sin, God led
His people with commandments all have read.
_________________
 

A TV favorite around Easter/Passover, Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments is undoubtedly dated but still retains the sense of grandeur that made it such an epic experience in 1956. While not his best role, Charlton Heston is a formidable Moses, exuding heroic dignity in every scene, even when he’s supposedly at the end of his rope. The eloquent voiceover narration and the jaw-dropping production values add to the overall grandiosity of the film.

Its biggest “flaw,” so to speak, is the overacting, with characters frequently looking off into the distance while spouting poetic dialogue about love, faith, or beauty. While this is at times unintentionally hammy, the melodramatic parlance has an archaic quality that is still somehow credible in the film’s antiquated setting. The story itself is well-formed, instituting simple yet complex character relationships among all the pomp and pageantry. The interplay among Moses, Rameses, and Nefretiri has a Shakespearean element that grounds the film in real, if exaggerated, emotion.

Anne Baxter as Nefretiri is the worst offender as far as magnified theatrics go, though her smug confidence about the power of her beauty adds to the interpersonal tension of the second act, even if Moses dismisses it. Likewise, Yul Brynner is stiffly arrogant at first, sharing with Baxter one of cinema’s truly awkward kisses, yet he grows into the role of Rameses until his lofty refusal to “let the people go” establishes him as a great Pharaoh in “de Nile.” (Get it?) The rest of the cast is large and adequate, with Edward G. Robinson as the standout naysayer Dathan, who’s the kind of guy everyone wants to punch now and then.

While The Ten Commandments is not completely accurate in the Biblical sense, it takes the source material seriously, applying it to an overall message of freedom and faith. It even transforms some Hollywood additions into clever speculations, such as a scorned lover causing the “hardening” of Pharaoh’s heart and his reversal after releasing the Hebrews. Above all, the film achieves scenes of visual vastness, from the labors of the slaves to their emancipation and immense leave-taking. The cast of thousands is stunning, and scenes like the parting of the Red Sea still hold an impressive power that can bring some, like my VC, to tears of awe. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore, not this long nor this extravagant, but The Ten Commandments stands as DeMille’s most successful accomplishment.

P.S. I don’t hold out much hope for Ridley Scott’s upcoming redux version Exodus: Gods and Kings, but we’ll see.

Best Biblical line: (Joshua) “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

Best original line: (Moses) “There can be no freedom without the Law.”

 
Rank: 53 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

233 Followers and Counting

 

#89: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy (1999, 2002, 2005)

26 Sunday Oct 2014

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(Spoiler Alert)
 
The Trade Federation’s blockading Naboo,
So Jedi are sent to negotiate peace.
A battle with droids and evasion ensue
As Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan fight for release.
 
Below on Naboo, Qui-Gon rescues a twit,
A Gungan outcast who is called Jar Jar Binks.
In gratitude, Jar Jar assists them, to wit
He leads them to where he is branded a jinx.
 
The Gungans live deep underwater, they learn,
But don’t wish to help anyone in the least.
One dark shortcut later, the Jedi knights turn
To Queen Amidala, whose fears have increased.
 
The Jedi and queen flee the threatened Naboo,
But their ship is damaged by enemy snares.
With help from a droid known as R2-D2,
They land on the sphere Tatooine for repairs.
 
While searching for parts, Qui-Gon locates a slave
Named Anakin Skywalker, only a boy.
This Anakin may be “the One” meant to save,
To bring the Force balance and peace to enjoy.
 
A bet and a pod race free Ani at last,
But he’s forced to leave his own mother behind.
They fight off Darth Maul, like a Sith from the past,
And head back to Coruscant with their new find.
 
The queen’s handmaid Padmé is rather friendly
With Ani, who’s introduced by Qui-Gon Jin.
The whole Jedi Council is loath to agree
With Qui-Gon’s assertions about Anakin.
 
Soon, everyone’s on their way back to Naboo
And seeks out the Gungans to help intervene.
At last, they agree to do battle anew,
When Padmé reveals she is really the queen.
 
As Jar Jar leads Gungans against battle droids,
The Jedi and Padmé sneak into the base.
Through luck, little Anakin somehow avoids
The fight on the ground for a battle in space.
 
Young Obi-Wan steps up to deal a death blow
To Darth Maul, who duels and dispatches Qui-Gon.
The droids are defeated, and peace seems to grow,
As Anakin’s trained under wise Obi-Wan.
_______________
 
When Padmé, now senator rather than queen,
Still serving Naboo with unflinching resolve,
Returns back to Coruscant, death unforeseen
Fuels fears that the peace may yet further devolve.
 
In light of the recent attempts on her life,
The Chancellor Palpatine bids her lie low.
The Jedi assign her two guards against strife,
With whom she’s familiar from ten years ago.
 
Young Ani has grown, and he clearly is smitten
With Padmé, though Obi-Wan bids him resist.
Soon after, they save her before she is bitten
And race to catch up with this antagonist.
 
Their target is nixed, so they go separate ways.
While Anakin takes Padmé back to Naboo,
His master does research and doubtfully pays
A visit to cloners deleted from view.
 
There, Obi-Wan learns that an order’s been met
For countless clone troops the Republic can claim.
He’s introduced to the clone-ee Jango Fett,
A cold bounty hunter, who flees to hide blame.
 
On Geonosis, Obi-Wan is detained
By evil Count Dooku, who chose the dark side.
Meanwhile, Skywalker is thoroughly pained
By dreams of his mother he cannot abide.
 
Returning to Tatooine, Padmé in tow,
He learns Tusken raiders abducted his mom.
He finds her in time for her final death throe
And yields to revenge as a coldhearted balm.
 
Both Padmé and he learn of Obi-Wan’s plight
And on Geonosis are captured as well.
Confessing their love, they are driven to fight
Three monsters in front of a large clientele.
 
The Jedi come calling with armies of clones,
And Jango and droids are no match for them all.
As Dooku retreats with some escorting drones,
Our heroes pursue for a lightsaber brawl.
 
Though Dooku defeats Obi-Wan and his ward,
When Yoda arrives, Count is nearly outmatched
And flees with some top-secret blueprints on board
To where his dark master has plans to be hatched.
 
Though Anakin lost his arm due to Dooku,
Because of the clones, this one battle was won.
As Padmé and Anakin wed on Naboo,
An unforeseen clone war has swiftly begun.
__________________
 
When General Grievous, who’s mostly a droid,
Abducts Palpatine in a militant raid,
Two Jedi and hundreds of clones are employed
To rescue the chancellor from this crusade.
 
With some difficulty, they breach the lead ship,
And Anakin finishes Dooku in rage.
They crash-land, and Grievous then gives them the slip
To find some more trouble in which to engage.
 
When Anakin learns that his wife is expecting,
He’s eager to end all the secrets they hide,
But more dreams of death make him doubt his protecting
Will save Padmé’s life since they will not subside.
 
As Chancellor Palpatine builds up his ego
And asks that Skywalker speak on his behalf,
The Jedi are doubtful about his amigo
And don’t wish the dark side to have the last laugh.
 
While Obi-Wan executes Grievous in flame,
His Padawan learns Palpatine is a Sith,
But Palpatine’s pledge to save Padmé by name
Convinces Skywalker to serve him forthwith.
 
His turn to the dark side at last is complete:
He massacres younglings as he is directed.
The order goes out to the clones in deceit
To kill all the Jedi that they have protected.
 
Though Yoda and Obi-Wan cheat death, the rest
Are caught by surprise and are exterminated.
When they learn of Anakin, both are distressed,
And Padmé refuses to trust what is stated.
 
When Anakin heads to a volcanic sphere
To wipe out the Separatist leaders at last,
His wife follows him, and his worry and fear
Are changed into anger when she is aghast.
 
He clashes with Obi-Wan furiously
As Palpatine barely bests Yoda as well.
Disturbed at the “Chosen One’s” deviancy,
Kenobi disarms and leaves him where he fell.
 
The Chancellor/Emperor’s now in control.
As Padmé gives birth to her predestined twins,
Darth Vader is painfully somewhat made whole
And ready for when the next chapter begins.
 
Though Padmé is lost and two Jedi alone,
The twins are divided and safely will stay.
Both Leia and Luke will have tales of their own
One day in that galaxy far, far away.
__________________
 

Many will probably disagree with my placement of George Lucas’s three-part return to the Star Wars universe. I have heard all the scorn for this trilogy: Jake Lloyd is the worst child actor of all time. What’s with all this Midi-chlorian crap? Hayden Christensen is so whiny and insipid as Anakin. The romantic dialogue is as corny as a popping machine and less entertaining. The politics drag, and the acting is mediocre. Nothing is as good as it should have been. These films are an embarrassment to the originals. Jar Jar Binks must die!

With all these criticisms, how then did the Star Wars prequels earn a place in my top 100? Quite simply, it’s because they’re far better than most people give them credit for. Do they compare with the first three as a whole? No. Are they flawed? Yes. But amid the minor annoyances that have garnered so much loathing, there are genuine moments of brilliance, with the visuals especially, that do make them worthy of the Star Wars name.

Episode I: The Phantom Menace is the weakest of the three because of its two most hated elements: Jar Jar Binks and the young Anakin Skywalker. Neither one ever bothered me much. There are much worse child actors than Jake Lloyd out there, and Jar Jar’s comic relief is not totally without charm, though it’s overplayed compared with the Ewoks of Return of the Jedi (again, I don’t mind the teddy bears). I agree that Lucas should not have tried to explain the Force with inscrutable talk of Midi-chlorians, but to me, these minor frustrations are overshadowed by the exciting, effects-laden sequences and the otherwise solid casting. Liam Neeson and Samuel L. Jackson (the first time I’d seen either of them) lend respectable sobriety, which is needed next to Jar Jar, and Ewan McGregor plays an up-and-coming Obi-Wan Kenobi who grew to become my favorite character in the next two films. Though his demise was a bit shocking at the time, Darth Maul also proves to be a formidable adversary. The pod race is far from pointless, as some detractors claim; it’s meant to buy Ani’s freedom and to be tense, impressive, and above all fun, and in my opinion, it succeeds, as do the battle scenes at the end. And let’s not forget John Williams’s magnificent score, which truly qualifies the film for its genre of space opera; no score could come closer to matching his musical achievement with the original Star Wars.

The first film was certainly closest to deserving its opprobrium, but Episode II: Attack of the Clones is as close to perfect entertainment as the prequels get. Perhaps I’m biased by the fact that it was the first Star Wars film I viewed in the theater, but it’s easily my favorite of the prequels. From the speeder chase on Coruscant to Obi-Wan’s rain-drenched duel with Jango Fett, Attack of the Clones offers the most exciting plot, as well as several explanations to burning questions, such as “What do all those stormtroopers look like?” While I think the first film’s obvious age difference between Anakin and Padmé was written away with the casting of Christensen, their relationship is sufficiently progressive to make it believable, even if the dialogue is indeed shallow. Plus, Anakin’s return to Tatooine is certainly a plausible prelude to his descent to the dark side. Episode II also possesses what is probably my favorite sequence of the entire saga: the Coliseum battle and its combination of giant monsters, droids, clones, bounty hunters, Jedi, a few pithy lines, and hopelessly romantic epicness, not to mention a subsequent peek at Yoda’s latent lightsaber prowess. I, for one, did not leave that theater disappointed.

I enjoyed watching Genndy Tartakovsky’s animated Star Wars: Clone Wars, which was released between the second and third films and set the stage for Episode III; thus, I was excited for Star Wars’ supposedly final installment. Revenge of the Sith is not an obvious favorite, not because it is bad (it actually received the best reception of the three), but because it is a tragedy, one that is surprisingly well-told. It essentially explains how Darth Vader came to be and how his children were separated. Anakin’s fear for Padmé’s life, foreshadowed by his premonitions about his mother in Episode II, is an effective catalyst for his moral plunge, though his embracing of murder is no less shocking or frustrating. The special effects of Episode III far surpass any other Star Wars film, and from droid commander General Grievous to Yoda’s showdown with the Emperor, from breathtaking beginning to tragic end, it is truly a feast for the eyes. (I love how the Yoda fight turned the long-established setting of the Senate chamber into an extravagant set piece.) The lava duel finale at last achieves the visual and emotional awe that words like saga and space opera imply; plus, the Emperor’s political intrigue provides timely, if occasionally ponderous, insights into the clandestine machinations of dictators. As splendid as Revenge can be, it’s depressing as heck and “ended” Lucas’s films on a disheartening note sorely in need of A New Hope.

Haters and critics can ridicule and underrate these films all they want, but George Lucas’s complete vision of the Star Wars saga is an absolute spectacle that earned him an AFI Lifetime Achievement Award after Revenge of the Sith was released. Yes, the dialogue is its weakest point, but the actors do their best with the sometimes clunky lines, such as Darth Vader’s lame climactic “Noooo.” Quiddities aside, the entire story of Anakin Skywalker deserved a full telling, and the Star Wars prequels supplied a fantastically realized narrative and some of the finest action sequences of the modern CGI era. I’ll be interested to see what J. J. Abrams has in store for the continuation of the franchise. Considering what he’s already done with Star Trek, I have high hopes for Episode VII.

Best line from The Phantom Menace: (Jar Jar Binks) “How wude!”
More serious best line for The Phantom Menace: (Yoda, to Anakin) “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I sense much fear in you.”
 
Best line from Attack of the Clones: (Anakin, as their coliseum execution begins) “What about Padmé?”  (Obi-Wan, as Padmé climbs onto a pillar) “She seems to be on top of things.”
More serious best line from Attack of the Clones: (Queen of Naboo) “We have to keep our faith in the Republic. The day we stop believing democracy can work is the day we lose it.”  (Padmé) “Let’s pray that day never comes.”
 
Best line from Revenge of the Sith: (Anakin, crash-landing Grievous’s ship) “We lost something.”   (Obi-Wan) “Not to worry. We’re still flying half a ship.”
More serious best line from Revenge of the Sith: (Padmé, as the Emperor takes over with full senatorial support) “So this is how liberty dies… with thunderous applause.”

 

Rank: 53 out of 60

 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

232 Followers and Counting