• Home
  • About Me
  • The List
  • THE LIST (2016 Update)
  • THE LIST (2017 Update)
  • THE LIST (2018 Update)
  • THE LIST (2019 Update)
  • THE LIST (2020 Update)
  • THE LIST (2021 Update)
  • THE LIST (2022 Update)
  • Top Twelves and More
  • The End Credits Song Hall of Fame

Rhyme and Reason

~ Poetry Meets Film Reviews

Rhyme and Reason

Tag Archives: Drama

Inside Out (2015)

01 Wednesday Jul 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Drama, Family, Pixar

Every girl and every boy
Has Sadness, Anger, Fear, and Joy
(Disgust as well) within their minds
To guide them through their days.
They form and file memories,
And inside Riley, all of these
Are touched by Joy, who always finds
The silver lining’s rays.

Though Joy insists on keeping her
As happy as they always were,
A touch of Sadness now in spots
May not be such a shame.
When Riley moves against her will,
And Sadness starts her off downhill,
The world of Riley’s inner thoughts
Will never be the same.
_____________________
While other people have been eagerly awaiting adult fare like Jurassic World, Mad Max: Fury Road, and Batman vs. Superman, I’ve been looking forward to Inside Out, hoping that it would be a return to the Pixar excellence to which moviegoers had become accustomed. I’m happy to say, it is. I’m trying to not let other critics’ positive reviews color my opinion, but I really am thrilled that Pixar has bounced back from the good-not-great status of Brave and the disappointment of Cars 2.

A movie about personified emotions in the control center of the mind—as original as it sounds, there have been similar concepts before, like the nearly forgotten ‘90s sitcom Herman’s Head, but whereas such ideas are usually reserved for comedy, Inside Out delves deeper, putting the emotion in emotional. Within the head of 12-year-old Riley Anderson, all her emotions work together most of the time—Joy (Amy Poehler), Sadness (Phyllis Smith), Anger (Lewis Black), Disgust (Mindy Kaling), and Fear (Bill Hader, in full Flint Lockwood mode)—and everyone but Sadness has a clearly defined role to play in guiding Riley’s actions. While this cast could have been one-note, epitomizing singular, often negative feelings, they all contribute to Riley’s personality and work well as characters due to their concern for her overall well-being (despite some poor decisions), not to mention the wisely chosen voice cast (many of which hail from Saturday Night Live or The Office).

While Riley’s external world involves a tempestuous move from Minnesota to San Francisco, her inner world endures even more distressing changes, worsened by the separation of leader Joy and downer Sadness from their psychological Headquarters. Having included too many spoilers in my past reviews, I want to tread lightly with this one and leave the film’s full impact for the fresh viewer. Suffice to say, Inside Out is a journey through the psyche that casual viewers can enjoy on the surface and analysts can pick apart to find ever more engaging layers of nuance and symbolism underneath.

When I first heard the film’s concept, I was a bit perplexed by the choice of five emotions because not every experience or feeling is so clear-cut. Yet children’s emotions are far simpler and more distinct than those of adults; the filmmakers know this well and use this very fact as the driving conflict in the film (there is no villain), since Riley is in the formative years of young adulthood. What is the cause of children suddenly needing “alone time” or deriving more frustration than enjoyment from past pleasures? How would mood swings, depression, dreams, or sarcasm be visualized in this uniquely Pixar mindscape? The film’s explanations for questions like these are eye-opening, as is the role of multiple emotions in shaping our deepest memories and impressions, yet much of it is metaphorical, implicit, and never heavy-handed in its interpretation. Here’s an example of one of the many questions prompted by the film’s themes: While certain crises seem cataclysmic at the time, perhaps these tragedies are merely an inevitable step toward maturity, though they’re no less regrettable. You’ll understand when you see it.

Compared with Pixar’s other classics, Inside Out can hold its ground with favorites like Ratatouille, Up, and Monsters, Inc. (the latter two also directed by Pete Docter), and even if the film doesn’t quite reach the heights of The Incredibles or Finding Nemo, it has the potential to grow in stature with further viewing. I already love it more now than right after I saw it. The animation is a modern marvel, such as the energy-infused substance of the emotions’ bodies and the orb-filled labyrinth of Long-Term Memory. One random danger in particular seemed like an excuse for the animators to indulge in some visual fun, despite the fact that no kid will understand its cerebral implications. (I’m not sure I do.) Inside Out may not be Pixar’s funniest adventure, but there are still quite a few laugh-out-loud moments and imaginative silliness, such as a few unexpected movie references and the way that seemingly random gags come together ingeniously during the climax. It’s a stunning balance of humor, head, and heart.

As many critics have stated, there’s also a good deal of poignancy, particularly for parents recalling their children’s childhoods. While I don’t fit that category, I admire the presence of a close nuclear family and was still touched deeply by a certain selfless act toward the end. I have a long and storied history of crying at animated movies, from Tarzan to Brother Bear, but few films can extract a tear from me anymore. Inside Out did, and that made it a special experience for me. After watching the film, I was left with the pensive, bittersweet glow of a film worth seeing many more times. My Joy and Sadness must have been holding hands. Thank you, Pixar. It’s good to have you back in force.

Best line: (Fear) “We didn’t die today; I call that an unqualified success!”

Rank: List-Worthy

© 2015 S. G. Liput
323 Followers and Counting

Big Hero 6 (2014)

19 Friday Jun 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Action, Animation, Comedy, Drama, Family, Sci-fi, Superhero

Though Hiro Hamada has bots on the brain
And uses his genius for fun and for gain,
His brother impresses
That cooler successes
Result from hard work to assist those in pain.

The huggable Baymax, Tadashi’s creation,
Is there for young Hiro through grief and temptation.
When evil arises,
His crew improvises,
Inventing a tech-fitted team transformation.

Revenge and respect struggle in good and bad,
And heroes are born from the hopes of a lad.
To overcome grief
And a merciless thief,
New bonds must be forged to replace what he had.
_______________

Rating: PG

After so-so CGI attempts like Bolt and The Wild and vastly improved near-classics like Tangled and Wreck-It Ralph, it’s now safe to say that Disney animation has found its stride. As an animated superhero film, Big Hero 6 doesn’t just copy The Incredibles but succeeds as a unique and entertaining fusion, of Disney storytelling and Marvel action, of Californian and Japanese culture, of soft-bellied caretakers and hard-edged vigilantes.

Too often lately, animated films give so little away in the trailers that it’s hard to get excited about a film we know little about. Thus, while I was tempted to see Big Hero 6 in the theater, I opted to wait for the DVD, a decision I now regret. It has everything you could want in an animated superhero tale. The animation is crisp and detailed, and the characterization of Hiro and his friends is smooth and effortless, elements that serve to heighten the tension and appeal of the action sequences. It’s rare nowadays, but I found it refreshing that every character (aside from the villain) was smart and likable, with the stand-out being the film’s mascot Baymax, that marshmallow man whose endearing innocence and literalness manage to keep the superhero team grounded. Again, I was pleased at how fond I became of this lovable sidekick, sort of like how I was surprised that Olaf was one of the best aspects of Frozen. The character designs and voice acting are perfect, especially for Hiro, Go Go, and hilarious Aunt Cass, and once the fully powered team assembles, the action occasionally approaches an Avengers level of awesomeness, offering new angles and even the unwritten rules of car chases. In addition, the film passed my personal test for animated films, in that I immediately wanted to see it again.

With mind-controlled microbots, experimental wormholes, and unexplained kite turbine things floating above the city (seriously, what were those things? Wind power?), this is obviously not the real world, if the culture-clash of San Fransokyo wasn’t a clear enough hint. Yet the film’s moral speaks to very real emotions of grief, anger, bitterness, and letting go. Hiro’s relationship with his brother Tadashi defines his goals for the future, and despite the holes in his heart, it is encouraging and touching how Baymax manages to fill them. While the film overall is refreshingly original, the core bond between Hiro and Baymax has recognizable resonances with The Iron Giant, and anyone who enjoyed one will most likely love the other. (At one point, I almost expected to hear “You go; I stay,” but that would have been too obvious a connection.) Big Hero 6 also completes an unexpected trilogy of films in which James Cromwell plays the father of some great advancement in robotics, the other two being I, Robot and Surrogates.

While the film’s science is clearly comic-bookishly advanced, certain up-and-coming real-world technologies were included as goals to strive for, such as the idea of a soft care robot or the 3D printer that Hiro uses to create everything from robot parts to costumes. It’s been said that the “geeks” and “nerds” are the ones who change the world, and this film is part of a growing trend to put animated nerds in the heroic spotlight (like Hiccup’s reading in How to Train Your Dragon or Flint’s inventing in Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs). Big Hero 6 is a home-run for Disney animation, which has now firmly planted itself above DreamWorks and just short of Pixar. From the funny and sweet short film Feast before it to the unexpected after-credits scene that cements this as a Marvel movie, Big Hero 6 is a super hit from start to finish and deserved its Oscar win.

Best line: (Aunt Cass, having prepared hot wings) “All right, get ready to have your face melted! We are gonna feel these things tomorrow, you know what I’m saying?”

VC’s best line: (Baymax, referring to the cat) “Hairy baby, hairy baaaby!”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

© 2015 S. G. Liput

319 Followers and Counting

Ruby Sparks (2012)

12 Friday Jun 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, Romance

A genius brought a dream to life
And dared to call her all his own,
But dreams aren’t what they seem in life
And oft grow past where they are sown.

Attempts to keep a dream confined
Will leave both love and lover stale,
For dreams cannot be hid behind
Possessive fears that they may fail.
____________________
After someone at work mentioned that I bore a resemblance to Paul Dano in Ruby Sparks, I knew I had to see this movie. (Incidentally, I don’t see the similarity.) The brainchild of star Zoe Kazan, who wrote the lead roles with herself and boyfriend Dano in mind, Ruby Sparks begins with a great idea and, despite some stumbles along the way, ultimately fulfills its potential. Paul Dano is much like a young Woody Allen as the rather neurotic young novelist Calvin Weir-Fields, who finds himself unable to match his early success. He’s a loner, whose past relationships haven’t ended well and whose friends include only his dog Scotty and his brother and sister-in-law. It’s not until his shrink suggests a writing exercise that he feels inspired and spits out a description of a girl he’s seen in his dreams. When Ruby actually appears as his very real girlfriend, drama, humor, romance, conflict, and hard relationship lessons ensue.

While the idea may feel a bit similar to The Odd Life of Timothy Green (released just a month later), and other films like Inkheart and Stranger than Fiction have toyed with the concept of writing becoming reality, the moral elements help to set Ruby Sparks apart. Though Calvin discovers that he can change Ruby with a few words on his typewriter, he resolves never to take advantage of this authorial privilege, but he reconsiders when his girlfriend deviates from his expectations. As Kazan has stated, Ruby isn’t just a “manic pixie dream girl,” eager to please Calvin with no faults whatsoever. Though he balks at the title of genius, Calvin’s too good a writer to create some one-dimensional character; whatever her origins, she ends up being a human being, wild and eccentric at times, but also moody and much more outgoing than her beau. He finds that he’s in love with the idea of her rather than the real McCoy. The nuances and challenges of love are sadly lost on Calvin, since after all, why must he change when Ruby is so changeable? I tend to sympathize with him since, being more of an introvert, I’d rather read a book at home than smoke weed with a free-spirited sort-of relative (a surprising Antonio Banderas), but Calvin’s still clearly in a rut he’s unwilling to escape.

While the potential was there for Ruby Sparks to become a rom-com classic, it aims a bit too wide of that mark. A few too many F-bombs and loose morals are thrown in (plus a brief but rather shocking scene from some zombie Z movie), perhaps to give it a more respectable(?) rating of R, and these elements only drag it down for me. Even so, I enjoy movies about writing, and Kazan’s often witty dialogue is one of the film’s strengths, along with stellar acting from all involved, including Elliott Gould, Annette Bening, and Chris Messina.

While Calvin’s changes to Ruby are sometimes hilarious, the fact that he’s exploiting the dignity of his “brainchild” is never lost and comes to a head in a bizarre climax that threatens to rob him of all sympathy. Nevertheless, considering everything before, what follows might be considered one of the most perfect endings I’ve seen in some time, allowing everyone the change and growth they need. On top of that, the film’s score by Nick Urata grabbed my attention and has become a new favorite of mine to listen to while I write. Despite its flaws, Ruby Sparks left me with a positive impression; with work like this, I’d say Kazan and Dano have bright futures ahead of them.

Best line: (movie producer, interested in adapting Calvin’s first novel into a film) “Now, Adam and Mandi come in with a wealth of experience from documentary films. Everything they touch is authentic. They make it real.”
(Adam) “Grounded in reality and—”
(Mandi) “We treat narrative the exact same way.”
(producer) “You saw the baby documentary they did.”
(Calvin’s publicist) “Yes. Made me want to have a kid.”

Rank: Honorable Mention

© 2015 S. G. Liput

315 Followers and Counting

Buried (2010)

10 Wednesday Jun 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Drama, Thriller

Within a box, a man awakens,
Buried after being taken,
Held for ransom in the ground
With little hope of being found.
In frenzied calls, he pleads for aid
From people grueling to persuade
And wonders if he’ll ever see
The light of day, above and free.
In fear and anger and distress,
He yields at times to hopelessness.
He hopes a savior can prevent
His grave from being permanent.
_______________

It’s amazing how an ending can ruin the movie experience.

MovieRob recommended this film back during his Latin-directed Genre Grandeur month, and I was intrigued by the concept. It’s very simple but, in this case, very well-executed. Ryan Reynolds is utterly convincing as Paul Conroy, a truck driver in Afghanistan who finds himself trapped in a buried coffin with only a phone, a lighter, and a few other items. His panic is palpable, and as he places desperate calls to his wife, his employer, 911, and a hostage specialist, he evokes a rollercoaster of emotions. At times, he’s a bit hard to like as he cusses out the people who (we assume) are trying to help him, but in all honesty, I don’t know what I might say in his incredibly stressful situation, though I’d definitely be praying more.

As the film’s claustrophobia set in, I realized that I wasn’t just watching a man in a box; I was in there with him. The camerawork is brilliant, using every possible angle of Paul’s trapped body to keep the scene contained, with only sparse distant shots to reinforce his isolation. Considering the film’s limited setting, I was surprised at the amount of tension it could create with phone calls and in such a confined space, particularly when Paul gets an unwelcome visitor.

Despite the above praise, the film’s strengths are sadly undercut by an ending that I found to be deeply disappointing. [Spoilers for the rest of the review]. After all of Paul’s psychological torment, after everything he went through, the filmmakers apparently wanted to take the unexpected route and pull the rug out from the audience’s hopes. Surely the greatest expectation for a survival film is for the main character to survive. It doesn’t matter what horrors they go through, whether it’s cutting off their arm or their finger; there has to be a light at the end of the tunnel. In Buried, the filmmakers taunt us with that light, only to pull a psych-out, a false hope that leaves poor Paul Conroy dead and follows up his death with a bizarrely happy-sounding song during the end credits.

By the end, I was left with this disillusioned, empty feeling. What was the point of having sat through an hour and a half of claustrophobia? Should I have learned some lesson? I suppose the filmmakers were attempting to make some sociopolitical statement about the costs of war and illustrate how people in desperation often don’t find the help they need, how hostage situations often end in tragedy, but I’ve grown to despise films whose only ultimate message seems to be that things sometimes just don’t work out (i.e., 5 Centimeters Per Second).

It feels odd to complain about a film not having a happy ending since many of my favorite films end in grief (Grave of the Fireflies, Somewhere in Time, The Green Mile), but in all of these cases, there is either some silver lining or the film’s tragedy is clear from the outset. Buried is a survival thriller, one which puts its character and audience through the ringer with no satisfaction of being released. Some may enjoy that, but I certainly don’t. Sorry, Rob.

Best line: (Dan Brenner’s last words to Paul and maybe everyone watching) “I’m sorry, Paul. I’m so sorry.”

Rank: Dishonorable Mention

© 2015 S. G. Liput

314 Followers and Counting

A Beautiful Mind (2001)

03 Wednesday Jun 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Drama, Romance

 
 
Brilliance lies within John Nash,
Whose confidence avoids a crash
With economic innovation,
Just the thing to make a splash.
 
As he savors acclimation,
Mathematics his vocation,
Two new ventures enter in,
Demanding love and dedication.
 
Undercover jobs begin;
A woman’s heart he learns to win,
But when the two get too entwined,
His sanity is spread too thin.
 
Some parts of life, he’s shocked to find,
Are only in his gifted mind.
Within his mind, the struggles start
Before he’s forced to be confined.
 
Discernment’s more than being smart,
And though the phantoms won’t depart,
The measure of a brilliant man
Lies in the constant of the heart.
_______________
 

I meant to review A Beautiful Mind some time ago, but like many things, it got away from me. Now, though, seems like a suitable time, in light of the recent deaths of John Nash and his wife Alicia, who were killed in a taxi accident on May 23rd, the latest victims of not wearing life-saving seat belts.

The film itself is a fitting tribute to his life and achievements, as well as an absorbing glimpse into the uncertainties of mental illness. It won both Best Picture and Best Director for Ron Howard and ranks among his best films. Russell Crowe brings Nash to life, and while he at first may seem like a collection of tics and eccentricities, his conversations with his college buddies display both his insecurities and his intellectual prowess.

While the film starts off as a character study of collegiate genius, confidence, and social awkwardness, Nash is soon drawn into government conspiracies and incessant paranoia. Then the film suddenly takes a Shyamalan-style turn back to reality that is jarring for both Nash and the audience, not to mention his supportive wife Alicia (an Oscar-winning Jennifer Connolly). The twist also makes it somewhat of a puzzle film deserving of repeat viewing. The rest of the film is spent with Nash attempting to maintain his sanity, a hard-fought daily struggle that affirms the touching devotion of his wife and friends and, for all his flaws, cements him as an admirable figure.

The film’s greatest strength is its acting. Crowe is really at his best here, and I will forever hold that he should have won for this instead of the previous year’s Gladiator; that way, Tom Hanks could have won for Cast Away. Oh, well. Jennifer Connolly is also heart-tuggingly persuasive in the way she endures and overlooks Nash’s problem areas to see the man worth loving underneath. Excellent smaller roles are filled by Ed Harris, Christopher Plummer, and the Vision—I mean, Dustfinger—I mean, Paul Bettany.

The film has long been criticized for the liberties taken with Nash’s life, such as the fact that his mental issues were apparently heard rather than seen. Plus, many important details were left out, such as the out-of-wedlock child he rejected and his divorce from Alicia in 1963. Nevertheless, the film’s power doesn’t lie in its adherence to the true history but in the character of Nash himself and his relationships, which I believe are visualized quite successfully. Nash’s surface unlikability is certainly made clear in various ways, but as the character says himself, he is “an acquired taste.” Nash and his wife did reconcile and remarried in 2001 (the year the film was released), so the film’s smoothing out of their romance is simply for the sake of story simplicity. Also, scenes that never happened, like the pens ceremony and Nash’s speech at winning the Nobel Prize (evidently, economics winners don’t give acceptance speeches), serve to heighten the emotion of his accomplishments and aren’t glaring in their embellishment, at least not for the casual moviegoer.

A Beautiful Mind may have its moments of disorientation, but it’s an Oscar winner with dramatic potency to spare, an artistically effective look at mental illness and faithful love, aided by a moving, if repetitive, James Horner score. (The score is incorporated into the Hall of Fame-worthy song during the end credits, “All Love Can Be.”) The final scenes are even more poignant now that John Nash’s life and career have ended, and his final line to his wife (“Come with me, young lady. I have a car outside. Interested in a ride?”) is almost prophetic, considering how they both died. Despite all the problems in his life, the film serves as a moving tribute to a mad genius.

Best line (not the most emotional but my favorite): (Charles, interrupting John’s mental groove) “When did you last eat? You know, food.”
(John Nash) “You have no respect for cognitive reverie, you know that?”
(Charles) “Yes. But pizza—now, pizza I have enormous respect for. And, of course, beer.”
 
 
Rank: List-Worthy
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

313 Followers and Counting

Genre Grandeur May Finale – Children Who Chase Lost Voices (2011) – Rhyme and Reason

31 Sunday May 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Action, Animation, Anime, Drama, Fantasy

Here’s my review for my chosen genre of non-Disney fantasy animation, courtesy of MovieRob’s monthly Genre Grandeur. Thanks a bunch, Rob!

movierob's avatarMovieRob

gg may 2015

For this month’s final entry for Genre Grandeur May – Animated Sci-Fi/Fantasy (Non-Disney/PIXAR) Movies, here’s a review of The Children Who Chase Lost Voices (2011) by S.G. Liput of Rhyme and Reason who chose this month’s genre for us all.

If you missed any of them, here’s a recap:

This month we had 18 review for GG:

  1.  Quest For Camelot (1998) – Past Present Future TV and Film
  2.  Planet 51 (2009) – Movie Reviews 101
  3.  Robots (2005) – Tranquil Dreams
  4.  9 (2009) – Ten Stars or Less
  5.  The Pagemaster (1994) – Past Present Future TV and Film
  6.  The Iron Giant (1999) – Movie Reviews 101
  7.  The Iron Giant (1999) – Digital Shortbread
  8.  Titan A.E. (2000) – Past Present Future TV and Film
  9.  Thumbelina (1994) – Past Present Future TV and Film
  10.  The Tale of the Princess Kaguya (2013) – Sidekick Reviews

View original post 1,075 more words

VC Pick: Same Time, Next Year (1978)

27 Wednesday May 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

Comedy, Drama, Romance

 
 
Love begins across a room
With eyes that lock and smiles that bloom
But will not leave the stricken pair
When time to end the brief affair,
 
For love endures a year apart,
And patient is the waiting heart.
They love their spouses too in spite
Of seeking yearly to unite.
 
For love endures for decades too,
The changes they must suffer through,
And even when it nears its end,
It will not leave a lifelong friend.
_________________
 

Released at the height of Alan Alda’s M*A*S*H fame, Same Time, Next Year brought to life both Bernard Slade’s 1975 play and a romance for the ages. As she’s a big fan of Alan Alda’s charm and humor, it’s no surprise that my VC loves this film so much and insisted on my reviewing it.

George (Alda) and Doris (Ellen Burstyn) happen to meet at a seaside hotel in 1951 while on solo retreats and immediately fall for each other, with the romantic mood set perfectly by the Oscar-nominated song “The Last Time I Felt Like This” (the kind of lovey-dovey theme that gets my VC tearing up with just the first few notes; it also concludes the film to earn a place in my End Credits Song Hall of Fame). After falling into bed as well, the two can’t abide never seeing each other again and, since their respective retreats coincide at the same time every year, they plan to meet annually, with the audience checking in every five years or so. The set-up and plot are simple and potentially corny, but Same Time, Next Year is a good example of a film that is elevated by some outstanding performances and dialogue.

Burstyn played Doris on stage as well opposite Charles Grodin, winning a Tony (she also garnered an Oscar nomination), and feels perfectly at ease with the role, even as she metamorphoses over the years from naïve housewife to hippie to confident businesswoman. Conversely, Alda changes in much more subtle ways, yet both remain recognizable and endearingly flawed through the decades. (It’s interesting to note that Alda’s M*A*S*H co-star Loretta Swit also played Doris on Broadway; that would have been a reunion of a different type.) They chat about their lives and families and children and politics, about George’s accountant quirks and Doris’s uncle with a metal plate in his head. As they continue to meet, it becomes clear that much can happen in a year’s time, and their relationship must grow and adapt to the sometimes painful changes they aren’t together to face. And of course, with Alda on hand, there’s a good deal of humor in the conversations too, such as George’s insistence on absolute openness despite habitually lying.

I do endorse this film with reservations, though, since one’s enjoyment from it depends on how well they can suspend their morality. I, for one, believe in faithfulness and monogamy, ideas that may seem foreign in a film about a decades-long affair. Yet as much as George and Doris love each other, they both love their own spouses too and speak affectionately of Helen and Harry. It isn’t all about sex; while most affairs aren’t like this, there is a degree of faithfulness to all the relationships, bonds that are clearly much deeper than a broken marriage or a one-night stand. Whether this is enough to justify the breach of trust is left to the audience, but it’s not enough to spoil my enjoyment of the film.

While my VC’s affection for Same Time, Next Year far surpasses mine, it’s still a romantic dramedy to remember. She claims that the viewer gets to know these characters, even those only mentioned like Harry and Helen, better than almost any other film. While I wouldn’t go that far, George and Doris are indeed the likable sort that I wouldn’t mind reuniting with, maybe, around this time next year.

Best line: (George, often enough for it to almost be his catchphrase) “All right, I didn’t think it through.”

VC’s best line: (George, recounting when they first met) “We had instant rapport. Did you notice that too?   (Doris) “No. But I know we really hit it off.”

  
 
Rank: List Runner-Up
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

312 Followers and Counting

Bottom-Dweller: Urban Cowboy (1980)

22 Friday May 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Bottom-Dweller, Drama, Romance, Western

 
 
(Can be sung to “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”)
 
Travolta went down to Houston,
He was lookin’ for a job to take.
He was young and dumb, just a country bum,
And he was waiting for his big break,
 
When he came across this young girl
Dancin’ round in a honky-tonk,
A promised land of beer and band
With a metal bull or bronc.
 
When the misfit pair were married,
Things at first were going well,
But some stubbornness made a jealous mess
And the marriage quickly fell.
 
While the two just boozed and pined away
And rode that bucking bull,
I began to think that this movie stinks
And was near unbearable.
__________________
 

This is it, the original bottom-dweller. This is the first movie I sat through and immediately hated, or, to coin Roger Ebert’s quote from his review of North, I “hated hated hated hated hated this movie.” Urban Cowboy was yet another star vehicle for John Travolta, but with films like this, it’s a wonder he became a star at all. I don’t usually subject myself to terrible films, but never before have I asked “Is it over yet?” so many times.

It starts out with some promise: small-town wannabe cowboy heads to the big city to find his fortune, meets girl, marries girl. That storyline alone might have been worth seeing, but the relationship between Bud and Sissy is hardly one for the ages. They meet each other in the famous Gilley’s Club, a multi-acre theme park of booze and cowboy paraphernalia, and Sissy (Debra Winger) has to practically twist Bud’s arm to convince him to dance with her. After some dancing and an argument and a roll in the mud, they’re suddenly walking down the aisle. Did either of them really think a marriage starting like that would last? As it turns out, barely a week passes before Bud’s pride is hurt, and both go their separate ways to make the other jealous, with increasingly depressing results.

One of my biggest problems with Urban Cowboy is the character of Bud. Travolta isn’t appealing in the slightest; he’s a juvenile man-child so unconfident in his masculinity that the slightest hint that someone may be better than he throws him into a blind rage, especially if it’s his own wife. In addition, he’s the kind of bumpkin that gives country music a bad name, content to work (sometimes) during the day and wile away his nights at the bar, picking fights and slapping his wife when she disagrees too much (but not too hard, of course). Plus, he’s supposedly in Houston to work and save up enough money to buy land and become prosperous, yet never seems to realize that he’s pouring his paycheck down the drain every night on beer and bets and pointless mechanical bull rides. Oh, and let’s not forget that he doesn’t just pretend to cheat on Sissy to make her jealous; he freely sleeps around, too stubborn to actually care for the girl he uses (Madolyn Smith) and too dense to realize why Sissy isn’t running back to him with open arms. What exactly am I supposed to like about this guy?

A series of misunderstandings keeps the couple apart, and Sissy ends up with “real cowboy” Wes Hightower, played by a leery Scott Glenn, who’s just a slightly harsher version of Bud, hitting a little too hard and stealing what he can’t earn. If Bud and Wes are “real cowboys”, they’re the worst kind, selfish he-men just trying to prove their own toughness to girls they only moderately care about. By the end, Bud trains Rocky-style for a mechanical bull showdown, and he seems to think that winning it will win Sissy back. How so? A silly championship is not going to repair a relationship; all his training is pointless, since all he really needed to do was go and apologize for his own pigheadedness. While he ends up doing exactly this, it’s as if he can’t muster the effort until he’s once again proven his alpha male status. Of course, it all works out for a happy ending, where assault turns into just desserts and a whirlwind romance rekindles into a whirlwind reconciliation. And then, thank God!, it was over!

This just might be my most hated bottom-dweller, with hardly any redeeming value. The only bright point is the classic country music soundtrack, particularly Charlie Daniels’ “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.” For reasons beyond my comprehension, my VC and many other critics actually liked the film itself, looking past its unlikable characters and petty squabbling. She tells me that she finds the movie “interesting for its dysfunctional lifestyle” and as compelling to watch as a car accident, while I’d prefer just to not look at all. I don’t plan to ever see Urban Cowboy again; I have much better things to do than watch white trash with superficial, totally screwed-up priorities cheating on each other.

Best line: (Bud) “All cowboys ain’t dumb. Some of ’em got smarts real good, like me.”

VC’s best line:  (Bud’s Uncle Bob) “You know, Bud, sometimes even a cowboy’s gotta swallow his pride to hold on to somebody he loves.”  (Bud) “What do you mean?”   (Uncle Bob) “Hell, I know I pretty near lost Corrine and the kids a couple of times just ’cause of pride. You know, you think that ol’ pride’s gonna choke you going down, but I tell you what, ain’t a night goes by I don’t thank the Boss up there for giving me a big enough throat.”

 
Rank: BOTTOM-DWELLER!
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

311 Followers and Counting

Interstellar (2014)

17 Sunday May 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Drama, Sci-fi

 
 
The earth is getting dusty,
And our crops are less than trusty,
And our history is rusty,
And all life is soon to end.
 
Farmer Coop is in frustration
Till suspicious gravitation
Sends him to a NASA station
To encounter an old friend.
 
Dr. Brand suggests spacefaring
On a certain wormhole bearing
Will reward the pilots’ daring
With a new potential Earth.
 
Leaving son and loving daughter,
Coop departs to be the spotter
On new worlds of ice and water,
Where time carries greater worth.
 
Though he carries on with yearning,
Many dangers are concerning.
Complex choices stem from learning
He may not end up returning.
______________
 

I was impressed by the Dark Knight trilogy, thoroughly impressed by The Prestige, and blown away by Inception, so I had high hopes for director Christopher Nolan’s latest creative extravaganza Interstellar. While it was praised for its scientific accuracy, creative innovation, and Oscar-winning visuals, it obviously draws from several other precedents of science fiction cinema, such as Contact (a mysterious “them” sends messages to Earth, which prompt a wormhole-related mission with Matthew McConaughey involved), Sunshine (a mission to save Earth runs into an ill-fated earlier mission), and of course 2001: A Space Odyssey, from which Interstellar derives those long, slightly boring scenes of space and space docking and a not-quite-as-confusing journey into transcendence. Plus, those walking wall AIs resemble (perhaps intentionally) the monolith from 2001.

As the film sets up a believably down-to-earth apocalypse and a touching father-daughter dynamic between former astronaut-turned-farmer Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) and his brainy daughter Murph (Mackenzie Foy), it lays a compelling groundwork. Then when it leaves the devastated planet behind to travel through a wormhole near Saturn, it rises in its sci-fi virtuosity, even if certain scenes are a bit drawn out. It really hits its stride when the crew (McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Wes Bentley, and David Gyasi) explore stunning new worlds with heartbreaking costs. All this adds up to a plausible visionary experience that was more or less what I was expecting, and then….

[Spoiler alert for the next paragraph] I’d like to add one more cinematic comparison: Disney’s 1979 let-down The Black Hole, another film with a compelling storyline, a likable robot, innovative special effects, and a climactic journey into a black hole. As in that film, all of the plausibility is lost once the black hole is entered, and the unlikeliness of subsequent events is written away with the weak argument that no one knows what would happen in a black hole, so artistic license is free to do any old thing. In the case of Interstellar, I can swallow what Coop finds and even his shaky assumptions about who brought him there, but the film’s most glaring hole is how grown-up Murph (Jessica Chastain) inexplicably figures out the meager messages given her to save mankind. The truth apparently just dawns on her, and the day is saved thanks to Coop ex machina. While the emotional climax that follows is fittingly poignant, it is cut too short (Coop doesn’t even try to meet his grandchildren) and also calls into question the necessity of finding a replacement world in the first place.

Okay, spoilers done. I was really expecting to love this movie, and in some ways, I do. It has the Nolan touch that combines well-drawn characters with difficult dramatic situations, inspiring themes of love and pioneering, and a moving, if repetitive, Hans Zimmer score. It even gets the science right in the space sequences, which are true to life in not relaying any sound, even explosions. I do wish that the monolith robots TARS and CASE had had more screen time since they offered the only comic relief and were the most unique special effect.

Yet for all its visual wonder and strong characters, the implausibility of the climax saps some of the emotion that it attempts to convey. It simply bends the mind a bit too far. I can still admire the film, but my VC was entirely turned off by the fantastical lurch toward a not-quite-satisfying-enough conclusion, though she’s not a Nolan fan anyway. While the care and craftsmanship behind the production are obvious, Interstellar is not Nolan’s best. It deserves a place of honor among his middle efforts, but Inception is still tops for me.

Oh, and here’s an Honest Trailer from Youtube that had my VC howling with agreement (and laughter): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZMzf-SDWP8

 
Best line: (Coop, calibrating the settings on TARS) “Humour — 75%.”
(TARS) “75%. Self-destruct sequence in T minus 10, 9, 8…”
(Coop) “Let’s make it 65%.”
(TARS) “Knock, knock.”
(Coop) “Want me to make it 55?”
 
 
Rank: List Runner-Up
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

307 Followers and Counting

The Shining (1980)

10 Sunday May 2015

Posted by sgliput in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Drama, Horror, Thriller

 
 
A lonely hotel is a dangerous thing,
At least in the works of an author named King,
For no one can know what occurs in the mind
When volatile men are annoyed and confined.
 
They say, like Jack Torrance, the winter caretaker,
That past tragedies are no sign or deal breaker.
He’s simply too sane for such things to occur;
His wife is the same, and he’d never hurt her.
 
But get them alone in a desolate maze
And watch them get worse with the passing of days
And cringe as the dread and the wickedness weave,
For those at the Overlook may never leave.
__________________
 

The only part of this Stephen King adaptation I’d seen previously was the snippets of the most famous scenes in Twister. Oh, and countless parodies of that infamous send-up of Johnny Carson’s introduction. Not being a fan of horror in general, I’m not surprised I never got around to this one, but I decided to give it a try based on its reputation alone (92% on Rotten Tomatoes).

Though horror often has a stigma as a B-movie genre, frequently relying on clichés, cardboard characters, and unnecessary violence, The Shining is a film that truly deserves its iconic status and high rankings among the top scary films. While I’m not a fan of Stanley Kubrick and consider 2001 vastly overrated, I have to admit he’s quite the skillful filmmaker. The direction and cinematography are exceptional, full of those long tracking shots that leave viewers like me enraptured by the fluidity of the camerawork. The film was one of the first to fully utilize the new Steadicam, which allowed the camera to follow the characters as they stroll, creep, or flee through expansive rooms and twisting corridors. Not only is it admirable for its style, but it also heightens the tension (along with the unnervingly dissonant score) as the viewer rounds corner after corner, preparing for some inevitable surprise that may or may not come.

Equally impressive is the performance from the ever brilliant Jack Nicholson as Jack Torrance, the kind of sanity-sapping role at which Nicholson excels, though he looked at least a little unhinged even from the beginning when he was supposed to seem normal. (It’s those devilish eyebrows!) I do wonder, though, what it was exactly that triggered his maniac descent when he seemed fine for an entire month; perhaps it was merely the constant sole presence of his wife (a perfectly hysterical Shelley Duvall), whom he evidently resented on some level even beforehand. The young Danny Lloyd also gives a memorably creepy performance as son Danny Torrance, who possesses some form of ESP (referred to as “shining”) and shares a body with the ambiguous Tony, who could be anything from a split personality to an unexplained possession. While Lloyd’s scenes are highly effective, I can’t help but feel concern when films like this employ such young child actors for potentially unsettling roles, though Lloyd supposedly never realized he was filming a horror movie. Also, sharing another film with Nicholson is Scatman Crothers, the concerned cook who reminded me of that sheriff in King’s Misery in more ways than one.

While the horror genre would not be taken seriously by the Academy until Silence of the Lambs in 1991, The Shining had the potential to break that barrier first, boasting enough quality filmmaking to deserve Oscar nominations or wins for at least Best Actor, Editing, and Cinematography. Alas, it was not to be, since The Shining’s popularity was slow in coming, and it was actually nominated that year for Razzies rather than Oscars. It was criticized for its slow pace and significant differences from King’s novel, but the main flaws for me were the language and a wholly unnecessary nude scene thrown in to solidify its R rating. Despite this, the film fits the mold of the few horror films I like in focusing on restrained horror and disturbing atmosphere rather than continual gore. The Shining is one of the best examples of a psychological horror, full of taut ambience, a little inexplicable weirdness, and an enigmatic ending that has kept critics and fans debating ever since about ghosts, time travel, and psychosis. Even so, it’s not one I’d watch often and certainly not at night.

Best line: (the obvious; Jack Torrance, as he axes through a door) “Heeere’s Johnny!”

 
Rank: List Runner-Up
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

305 Followers and Counting

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Recent Posts

  • We Didn’t Start 2025 (Recap)
  • NaPoWriMo 2025 Recap (Finally)
  • Sonic the Hedgehog 3 (2024)
  • It Happened One Night (1934)
  • Spellbound (2024)

Recent Comments

associatesofshellymann's avatarassociatesofshellyma… on My Top Twelve La La La So…
Kit's avatarKit Nichols on Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
lifelessons's avatarlifelessons on Look Back (2024)
Carol Jackson's avatarCarol Jackson on The Thief of Bagdad (1940…
Stephen's avatarStephen on Love Story (1970)

Archives

  • January 2026
  • December 2025
  • May 2025
  • April 2025
  • March 2025
  • February 2025
  • January 2025
  • December 2024
  • May 2024
  • April 2024
  • March 2024
  • February 2024
  • January 2024
  • December 2023
  • November 2023
  • October 2023
  • September 2023
  • July 2023
  • June 2023
  • May 2023
  • April 2023
  • March 2023
  • February 2023
  • January 2023
  • December 2022
  • November 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • August 2022
  • July 2022
  • June 2022
  • May 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • September 2021
  • August 2021
  • July 2021
  • June 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013

Categories

  • Blindspot
  • Blogathon
  • Christian
  • Movies
  • Music
  • NaPoWriMo
  • Poetry
  • Reviews
  • TV
  • Writing

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Recent Posts

  • We Didn’t Start 2025 (Recap)
  • NaPoWriMo 2025 Recap (Finally)
  • Sonic the Hedgehog 3 (2024)
  • It Happened One Night (1934)
  • Spellbound (2024)

Recent Comments

associatesofshellymann's avatarassociatesofshellyma… on My Top Twelve La La La So…
Kit's avatarKit Nichols on Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
lifelessons's avatarlifelessons on Look Back (2024)
Carol Jackson's avatarCarol Jackson on The Thief of Bagdad (1940…
Stephen's avatarStephen on Love Story (1970)

Archives

  • January 2026
  • December 2025
  • May 2025
  • April 2025
  • March 2025
  • February 2025
  • January 2025
  • December 2024
  • May 2024
  • April 2024
  • March 2024
  • February 2024
  • January 2024
  • December 2023
  • November 2023
  • October 2023
  • September 2023
  • July 2023
  • June 2023
  • May 2023
  • April 2023
  • March 2023
  • February 2023
  • January 2023
  • December 2022
  • November 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • August 2022
  • July 2022
  • June 2022
  • May 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • September 2021
  • August 2021
  • July 2021
  • June 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013

Categories

  • Blindspot
  • Blogathon
  • Christian
  • Movies
  • Music
  • NaPoWriMo
  • Poetry
  • Reviews
  • TV
  • Writing

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Rhyme and Reason
    • Join 814 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Rhyme and Reason
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar