Tag Archives: History

United 93 (2006)

30 Wednesday Sep 2015

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Another day, another morning, not unlike the ones before,
The sun was shining without warning of the tragedy in store.
Another day of normal business, little slated to befall,
The kind to sink into the past without a reason to recall.

Some went about their own routines and kissed their families goodbye,
No knowledge of the future scenes to note suspicion in the sky.
Some woke to smoke and disbelief at holes in buildings unforeseen,
And average folk observed in grief the horrors on their TV screen.

A few of those who woke that day believing they’d have many more,
Above the fields of Pennsylvania, heard the early sins of war.
They perished there as victims of a sudden sorrow we regret,
But challenged it as selfless heroes whom we never will forget.
________________

MPAA rating: R

After hearing so many positive reviews of United 93, I decided I ought to watch it myself, and though I had hoped to see it around the anniversary of 9/11, its power doesn’t rely on when it is seen. Many films based on history try to recreate events accurately, but even if they avoid anachronisms and errors, they rarely transcend their status as a re-creation. Even with historical films I love like Titanic and Chariots of Fire, the presence of recognizable stars, artistic license, and that Hollywood polish belie the fact that I am watching a movie. United 93 is one of the few films that suspended that understanding and temporarily convinced me that I could be watching real events.

Obviously this was the goal for director Paul Greengrass (Captain Phillips), who purposely employed hand-held cameras for their realism and chose unknown actors or, in the case of the ground crews, many of the actual flight controllers who were working on September 11, 2001. The events of 9/11 are widely known, and by focusing on one plane’s story, the film never lets us forget that the viewer is watching a tragedy in progress. Because United Airlines Flight 93 was the only plane where the passengers fought back, its story is clearly the most dramatic in nature, yet its narrative is as convincing as a documentary and never feels theatrical.

From the time of the plane’s takeoff, events play out in real time. Normal people go about their business, making phone calls, taking pills, ordering breakfast, chatting about their kids, and ignoring the four overly silent Arabs who board Flight 93 out of Newark. Because we all know what will happen, the tension builds naturally, as reports come in of American 11 and United 175, which targeted the World Trade Center before Flight 93 had even been hijacked. Realistic interchanges between the air traffic controllers in different cities and the military reflect the confusion of that day, along with all the fear and uncertainty. When the awaited hijacking actually does happen, the tension and anticipation reset as the hostages, like the terrorists before, wait for the right moment to make their move. Difficult decisions and teary phone calls and desperate prayers are made, and even though I knew the outcome, the film made me hope and believe that the passengers might be successful.

Perhaps the most affecting scene is the glimpse we get of the field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, where the plane crashed. On one of our vacations, my mom and I visited the Flight 93 National Memorial there and walked along the wall of names and saw the boulder that marks the impact point. It was cold and nearly deserted at that time of day, but I got a sense of the importance and grief behind the memorial. Though the film doesn’t even attempt to name the passengers, I felt United 93 only deepened my admiration and sorrow for these fallen heroes who never planned to be heroes.

Best line: (flight attendant Sandra Bradshaw, making a heartbreaking phone call) “But, baby, I promise you, if I get out of this, I’m quitting tomorrow. I’ll quit tomorrow. I promise, I’ll quit tomorrow.”

Rank: List-Worthy

© 2015 S. G. Liput

340 Followers and Counting

Becoming Jane (2007) (Full Version)

28 Tuesday Apr 2015

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The author Jane Austen
Refused to get lost in
Romance of her own,
Though for that she’s well-known.
__________________
 

(Here’s the full review for the poem I wrote a couple days ago. Since I already have my NaPoWriMo poem for today with X-Men: Days of Future Past, I thought today would be a good day to finish this one.)

Becoming Jane follows in the footsteps of biopics like Cross Creek and Shakespeare in Love in asking, “Why remake an author’s work when you can depict the supposed events in their life that inspired that work?” Anne Hathaway is a lovely Jane Austen, and James McAvoy is a debonair Tom LeFroy, the brief acquaintance from Austen’s life whom the film expands into a full-on would-be love interest. Even if their romance isn’t entirely true to history, Hathaway and McAvoy have all the chemistry they need to make for a heart-throbbing Janeite passion.

It’s a film that seems to have everything going for it: an evocative score, ravishing costumes and production design, compelling cinematography with vivid views of nature and framed scenes shot through corridors, and a cast of renowned thespians, such as James Cromwell, Julie Walters, and Maggie Smith. Its dialogue even bears the eloquent wit and civilized sauciness of Austen’s work, and therein lies an issue for me. As elegant as Austen’s writing is (“accomplished” as McAvoy’s LeFroy judges), its flowery language isn’t as appealing to a modern audience as it once was. Certainly there are plenty of Janeites out there who still swoon over her sophisticated style, and it isn’t as pretentious as The Philadelphia Story, but it takes more effort than usual sometimes to decipher the meaning behind her carefully constructed prose. Perhaps that’s the fault of me, too low-brow to keep up with her urbane language, but I doubt I’m the only one. I keep thinking of Tom Hanks in You’ve Got Mail, rolling his eyes as he slogs through Pride and Prejudice.

Like that film, Becoming Jane borrows the initial setup of her most famous novel, with Jane becoming instantly prejudiced against LeFroy’s arrogance toward her. Scenes involving Jane’s disagreeing parents and a country dance in which she and LeFroy trade polished barbs will certainly remind viewers of past productions of Pride and Prejudice. Yet since Austen is known to have never married, it’s clear that any attraction between the two is doomed to failure; herein lies the film’s uniqueness among Austen-like works. While all of her novels conclude basically with happy endings, such marital felicity was not to be hers, and the film’s final moments highlight the bittersweet sentiments of what-might-have-been. My VC agrees with me about the ornate dialogue but was still brought to tears by the denouement. It’s not necessarily a tragedy, since female independence has its last word over societal convention even if it can’t defy it, but Becoming Jane has its foundation in the real world, a world of desirable affection and indispensable money, a world meant to be perfected by a sadder but wiser novelist.

Best line: (Mrs. Austen, when Jane starts writing instead of attending to a suitor) “Jane!”
(Lady Gresham) “What is she doing?”
(Mr. Wisley, the suitor) “Writing.”
(Lady Gresham) “Can anything be done about it?”
 
 
Rank: List Runner-Up
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

302 Followers and Counting

Becoming Jane (2007) (Short Version)

25 Saturday Apr 2015

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The author Jane Austen
Refused to get lost in
Romance of her own,
Though for that she’s well-known.
 ___________________
 

In keeping with NaPoWriMo’s prompt for the day, I wanted to do a Clerihew, an eponymous quatrain poking fun at another person. Since I didn’t have much time today, though, I’m just posting the poem and will have to write the review for Becoming Jane later. Until then….

The Way Back (2010)

18 Saturday Apr 2015

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Deep in Siberia, prison of nature,
Brig of the barbarous Soviet ship,
Men were convinced there could be no escapers;
No one could hope to survive such a trip.
 
Janusz, a Pole locked away by betrayal,
Hoped and gave hope when it nearly was dead.
Rushing from Russians through snow-glutted gale,
Seven escaped from the Gulag and fled.
 
Journeying south through the frost and the firs,
Through hunger and fears that they may not arrive,
Ever they traveled with personal spurs,
Keeping the world-weary rovers alive.
 
Onward and onward, from hills unto lakes,
Lakes unto hills unto plains unto sand,
Onward through nature’s unbearable aches,
Onward they walked over merciless land.
 
Husband and artist, accountant and priest,
Father and criminal—all carried on.
Though they were free, some were further released
To journey no farther until the last dawn.
 
Sojourning south through the sting of the sun,
Through thirst and through fears that they may not arrive,
Ever they traveled till travels were done,
Clinging to that which keeps all men alive.
________________
 

(On this eighteenth of April, in honor of “Paul Revere’s Ride,” one of my favorite poems, the NaPoWriMo prompt was for a poem about an urgent, epic journey. This quest certainly qualifies.)

Not to be confused with the 2013 coming-of-age film The Way, Way Back, The Way Back is the very definition of an epic, “based-on-a-true-story” journey, drawing its inspiration from Slawomir Rawicz’s 1956 memoir The Long Walk. While the truth of the story has been questioned over the years, several similar stories exist, and though the film also takes some artistic liberties, its authenticity concerning the Soviet Gulag was well-researched. The Way Back has even been called the first Hollywood film to tackle a tale of the Communist Gulags.

Regardless of its source material’s accuracy, The Way Back is a moving and well-acted tribute to what is indeed a very long walk, 4000 miles from Siberia to India, through hostile terrains of all kinds. Like past hits (Witness, The Truman Show), director Peter Weir brings an eye for detail and beauty, particularly in the sweeping landscapes the characters traverse. While the cinematography alone is enough to recommend the film, the acting is equally outstanding. Several lesser-known actors from Eastern Europe are joined by Jim Sturgess, Colin Farrell, Ed Harris, Mark Strong and Saoirse Ronan, giving varied performances that never falter in their emotional resonance. Though the film’s lone Oscar nomination was for Best Makeup (lost to The Wolfman), it was an underrated spurn for the Academy to omit any directing or acting nominations, especially for Sturgess and Harris.

While The Way Back features much suffering and heartache, it’s a thankfully restrained portrait of an awe-inspiring escape to freedom, one which stands on its own with limited references to jailbreak predecessors like The Great Escape (one escapee is somewhat blind, but that’s about it). My only qualm about the film is that it took some effort to understand the Eastern European accents, mainly Colin Farrell’s; it’s a prime example of a film best seen with subtitles too, just as an added reference.

While the film could have ended with a simple arrival in India, its poignancy takes a dramatic surge as one long walk becomes an even longer walk, its length adding to its tear-jerking potential. While its positive reviews were halfhearted for the most part, I consider The Way Back to rank among Weir’s finest films and proof that he is still an expert director.

Best line: (Mr. Smith) “In the camps, some saw death as freedom.”   (Janusz) “Then why didn’t you just kill yourself?”   (Mr. Smith) “Survival was a kind of protest. Being alive was my punishment.”

  
Rank: List-Worthy
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

295 Followers and Counting

The Wind Rises (2013)

29 Sunday Mar 2015

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Before the World War that sent Zeros to soar,
A youngster named Jiro had bright dreams galore.
Airplane engineer was his chosen career,
A striving for beauty, naïve and sincere.
He built and he planned and foresaw something grand
To rise on the wind over enemy land.
 
While deep in his quest for the plane he loved best,
His heart found a partner, and both were soon blessed.
But love has a way of still making us pay,
For sadly short-lived is our happiest day.
He felt the wind rise to the loftiest skies,
Where high-minded dreams tend to meet their demise.
________________
 

Hailed as Hayao Miyazaki’s swan song before his retirement, The Wind Rises is a work of heartfelt beauty worthy of being the celebrated director’s final film (though he had supposedly retired after Princess Mononoke too). It is also an outlier among his films for two reasons: its realism and its poignancy. Looking back, few films directed by Miyazaki are based entirely in the real world, set instead within dystopian jungles, demon-infested landscapes, or steampunk fantasy lands. Some come close to reality, like Kiki’s Delivery Service, My Neighbor Totoro, or Porco Rosso, but even they carry obvious fantasy elements. Only his first film, the James Bond-ish The Castle of Cagliostro, could have actually happened (if you consider James Bond realistic), but not until his last film did he settle upon real people and real events.

Based on the life of avionic engineer and creator of the Japanese Zero Jiro Horikoshi, The Wind Rises (which could have been called Jiro Dreams of Airplanes) details his ambition of creating marvelous flying machines and bringing Japan up to speed with the likes of Italy, Germany, and the U.S.  Honestly, I know nothing about the real Jiro Horikoshi or the extent of the film’s historical accuracy, but, even if it weren’t a fictionalized biopic, it would still be one of Studio Ghibli’s most beautiful films. Certain scenes recall notable realistic scenes in past Ghibli movies. A sequence depicting the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923 recalls the urban devastation of Grave of the Fireflies, while Miyazaki’s obvious fascination with flight takes center-stage in a story focused on building planes, a process only briefly portrayed in Porco Rosso. Of course, Miyazaki’s fantastical fingerprints are still evident in Jiro’s dream sequences, in which an Italian engineer named Caproni acts as his Chef Gusteau, offering inspiration and advice while they stroll along aircraft wings. Ghibli’s hand-drawn animation has always been impressive, but not since Howl’s Moving Castle have the artistry and attention to detail been so wondrous, from plane-level views of billowy clouds to the fading vapors of Jiro’s chain-smoking habit to the varying shadows cast by Jiro’s glasses on his own face.

The film’s realism is notable in itself, but it would have made it simply an interesting oddity, rather than the bittersweet drama it is. What sets The Wind Rises apart from its Miyazaki brethren is its heart. As much as I enjoy Miyazaki’s films, none of them have ever touched me on an emotional level; there’s visual beauty to spare, but they tend to appeal more to the eyes and the imagination rather than the heart. This latest film is the exception. The first half is entertaining enough on its own, but the film becomes something more special upon the arrival of Nohoko, one of Ghibli’s loveliest female characters to match its loveliest romance.

Consider their early courtship: like Romeo and Juliet, Nohoko stands on a balcony while Jiro deploys paper airplanes to her rather than poetry (though there’s poetry too). As corny as it sounds, it’s remarkably sweet, as is their increasing devotion to each other, despite Nohoko’s tuberculosis. Miyazaki plumbs unusual depths of emotion as the couple is brought together repeatedly by the wind until they become inseparable, the one pursuing a dream and the other wasting away in support of it. Though it does pay tribute to the most memorable scene from Porco Rosso involving the fate of fallen pilots, the ambiguous ending misses an opportunity to become a full-on tearjerker in favor of a pseudo-inspiring sendoff, which still manages to be rather powerful.

I heard an interview with Gary Rydstrom (director of the excellent English dub), which summed up the film’s dually signified message perfectly: the danger of daring to pursue a passion doomed to end badly. Jiro knows his avionic masterpieces will inevitably be used for destruction in the approaching war, just as he knows his time with Nohoko is limited. It’s the timeless struggle of love; though it will surely end, dreams fulfilled and time well spent manage to be worth it in some ways, despite regret. Caproni mentions that an artist has only ten good creative years allotted to him, but Hayao Miyazaki’s career is clearly an exception. Though Disney’s Frozen juggernaut was understandably the Oscar-winning favorite for Best Animated Feature that year, The Wind Rises would have won my vote.

Best line: (Caproni) “Airplanes are beautiful, cursed dreams, waiting for the sky to swallow them up.”

 
Rank: List-Worthy
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

288 Followers and Counting

#3: Forrest Gump (1994)

10 Tuesday Feb 2015

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His name is Forrest, Forrest Gump,
And he has quite a tale to tell,
A decade-spanning epic life
That no one else could tell as well.
 
Although he never has been smart,
His mother told him from his youth
That he could still do anything,
Which he took as God’s honest truth.
 
He didn’t have too many friends,
Just lovely Jenny by his side.
He loved her dearly from the start,
But college kept her occupied.
 
Their paths diverged as Forrest Gump
Enlisted in the Army corps
And told his girl he soon would go
To Vietnam to fight a war.
 
His heroism rescued lives,
Including his Lieutenant Dan.
As Forrest met with Ping-Pong fame,
His friend was left as half a man.
 
When Army life was done with him,
Gump bought himself a shrimping boat
To celebrate a fallen friend
Whose life to shrimp he would devote.
 
Assisted by Lieutenant Dan,
He built himself a shrimp empire,
But a loss returned him home
To Alabama to retire.
 
Beloved Jenny’s wayward path
Of drugs, abuse, and love thought free
At last brings her to Forrest’s house
To milk his hospitality.
 
A lengthy run across the land
Brings fame to Forrest once again,
But what more strongly speeds his step
Is Jenny’s now inviting pen.
 
Though soon he loses one he loves,
He gains another suddenly,
For Forrest Gump is talented
At drifting to his destiny.
________________
 

While not the first, Robert Zemeckis’s Forrest Gump is the greatest example of the “meet-‘em-and-move-on” film, following one character throughout his life as he touches and is touched by countless others, often in ways he doesn’t even comprehend. In this case, it’s set against the backdrop of late 20th-century America, and even if Forrest doesn’t fathom the influence of his adventures, we the audience do, laughing, crying, and remembering along the way.

Tom Hanks most definitely deserved his Best Actor Academy Award for his simple yet profound portrayal of Forrest, Forrest Gump. Rather than being some caricature of the mentally handicapped, his folksy candor creates a memorable paragon of innocent observation. His unbiased impressions of some painfully turbulent years in US history act as a neutral lens through which we can view events like the Vietnam War, the Watergate scandal, and the hippie movement without any potentially alienating political opinions. They just were, and Forrest was there. It’s a simple idea, but much care and effort were made in pulling it off successfully. The Oscar-winning effects team placed Forrest into archive footage, allowing him to seamlessly interact with Presidents and celebrities. Yet through all of his adventures, he remains the same lovable mama’s boy, harboring (as the writer Eric Roth has stated) an unshakeable faith in only three things: God, his wise mother (Sally Field), and his sweetheart Jenny (Robin Wright). It’s funny, though, that Field plays Hanks’s mother here when she played his love interest in Punchline just six years earlier.

Jenny chooses the opposite approach of Forrest’s clean-cut journey through the decades. Whereas his homespun values preserve Forrest unsullied for the most part, in the world but not of the world, Jenny embraces the sex, drugs, and destructive lifestyle that captured so many in the 1960s, all the while keeping her would-be suitor at a distance. Her “spoiled goods” mentality is frustrating because of her own foolish choices, and tragic because of Forrest’s unrequited love for her, at least until the end. Forrest Gump is a prime example of how an opinion can make a 360 over time; my VC disliked the film’s ending at first, mainly due to how Jenny used Forrest’s affection for her to sneak a one-night stand and then did not contact him again until she was dying. Over time, she’s come to love the film as much as I do and to recognize more authenticity in Jenny’s deathbed declaration of love. As disheartening as their degrading lifestyles became, the eventual turnaround for Jenny and for Lieutenant Dan (a fantastic Gary Sinise) is what provides the satisfying, tear-worthy conclusion that “meet-‘em-and-move-on” films do so well. (By the way, did anyone else notice that Jenny’s abusive boyfriend in Washington, D.C., was named Wesley? Robin Wright must love that name.)

Despite the language and some sexual awakenings for Forrest, the film is a redemptive and unforgettable odyssey in which the good and decent are proven more prosperous than the edgy and bitter. The soundtrack is one of the best, providing pitch-perfect musical accompaniment for every decade Forrest encounters (the Doors are well represented), and the three-year running sequence features a spectacular blend of rocking road anthems and stunning cinematography. The quirky narration is one of my favorite elements, with sentences often being repeated by an actor right after they’ve been spoken. Sometimes narration is an unnecessary distraction, but for “meet-‘em-and-move-on” films, it often strengthens the effect of the story, as with Life of Pi and The Shawshank Redemption. Many people doubtless consider Shawshank a better film, which was overshadowed by the popularity of Tom Hanks’ best role in 1994, but though Shawshank is more mature in tone and subject, and I still love it, Forrest Gump holds a greater variety of incident, special effects, and storytelling and is just more appealing in general. It’s a special film that some may dismiss as glossing over history, but I find more reasons to love it on every viewing. (Did you notice that Forrest’s eyes are closed in every picture he takes? I didn’t till this latest time.)

Best line (a less obvious one):  (Bubba) “Anyway, like I was sayin’, shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, sauté it. Dey’s uh, shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There’s pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That- that’s about it.”

 
Rank: 60 out of 60
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

284 Followers and Counting

#8: Titanic (1997)

01 Sunday Feb 2015

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The RMS Titanic plowed the icy North Atlantic
And made headlines and history when swallowed by the sea.
It served as quite a backdrop for a rendezvous romantic
Between an aimless artist and a fiancée set free.
 
When Rose is brought aboard the ship, she sees her future set,
A world of wealthy well-to-dos and proper parties planned,
But when the lass is rescued from a self-delivered threat,
Jack Dawson introduces her to his own world firsthand.
 
Although her mother and her haughty, cold fiancé Cal
Insist she stay away from Jack and keep to codes and class,
Her heart and hopes have superseded moneyed rationale,
For love is theirs until an iceberg makes a fatal pass.
 
As water floods into the ship, there’s order up on deck,
But when that deck begins to lean, anxiety begins.
With nowhere near enough lifeboats, this monumental wreck
Will claim the lives of most who panic to the violins.
 
The grand Titanic sinks beneath the frigid ocean waves,
And only six are rescued by the lone returning boat.
Though 1,500 fell below to dark and unmarked graves,
A sworn survivor strove to live, not just remain afloat.
_____________________
 

One of the greatest film achievements belongs to James Cameron and his historic Titanic, tied winner of the most Academy Awards, eleven in total. While the film’s prestige seems to have waned since the director’s cheesy “I’m king of the world” speech at the Oscars, it remains a moving romance and an unparalleled spectacle of magnificence brought low.

While it didn’t win any acting Oscars, both Roses were nominated, the lovely Kate Winslet as young Rose and the trauma-wearied Gloria Stuart as elderly Rose. Though not outstanding, the acting is uniformly good, from Kathy Bates as the unsinkable Molly Brown, Billy Zane as Rose’s arrogant husband-to-be Cal Hockley, Bill Paxton as modern-day treasure seeker Brock Lovett, and Bernard Hill and Victor Garber as the ship’s captain and designer, respectively, both overwhelmed with the grief and guilt of helming a deathtrap. Leonardo DiCaprio found his first big budget role here, and though he’s gone on to ever greater fame, it wasn’t until Inception that I saw him as anything but artist/lover Jack Dawson.

It’s a sad fact that, just as The Hunger Games is most entertaining when the blood sport commences, the best part is the massive ship’s epic floundering, both realistically tragic and awesome to behold. The couple’s wandering through the dying vessel allows multiple perspectives, from the gradually slanting upper deck to the water-logged lower levels, the desperate passengers behind locked gates and the former splendor of state rooms being swallowed from below. The Oscar-winning visual effects are indeed wondrous, giving a sense of the astounding size of this vanquished metal beast. Even so, I find it almost humorous how many times Jack and Rose trade each other’s names; from when Rose finds Jack below to her rescue, I counted 48 Jacks and 32 Roses.

In addition to winning Best Picture, Director, Visual Effects, Cinematography, Art Direction, Film Editing, Costume Design, Sound, and Sound Effects Editing, it truly deserved wins for James Horner’s majestic Celtic-infused score and for the song “My Heart Will Go On,” sung by Celine Dion over the end credits (earning a place in my Hall of Fame). The music adds much to the film’s beauty and grandeur and deepens the characters’ emotions. The romance itself is not the very best, so perhaps it was the music that put it over the edge for me. Titanic holds special meaning to me because I probably saw it too young; I cried harder at this film’s finale than at any other movie before or since, to the point that I swore I would never again watch it. While that oath obviously didn’t stick and the film doesn’t touch me quite as deeply, it’s still sublimely sad, with a final scene worthy of a meet-‘em-and-move-on reunion, even if the film doesn’t fit into that mold.

Though not the first film about the Titanic (which was 1912’s Saved from the Titanic, starring an actress who survived the sinking) nor the last (the recent 2012 miniseries Titanic featured quite a good ensemble), James Cameron’s Titanic will forever be the film version for the ages, against which all others are compared. With real underwater footage of the wreck and an epic depiction of the film’s floundering, its flaws are easily overlooked (among them the unnecessary language and nudity and the absence of any heroism among the wealthy passengers; also my VC feels the throwing away of the diamond was pointless). Even so, it deserved every one of its accolades and is still a truly spectacular experience.

Best line: (Jack, after they’re in the water) “I don’t know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all of this.”

VC’s best line: (Jack) “I figure life’s a gift, and I don’t intend on wasting it. You don’t know what hand you’re gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you… to make each day count.”

  
Rank: 60 out of 60
 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

283 Followers and Counting

#38: Chariots of Fire (1981)

17 Wednesday Dec 2014

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‘Twere many fine names
In the Olympic games,
The runners and sprinters who dashed for their fames.
With wings on their feet
That few others could beat,
They strove in 1924 to compete.
 
At Cambridge, a Jew
Who did not run but flew,
One Abrahams trained to be best in each queue.
He ran to resist
Those who were prejudiced,
And friends thought no faster young man could exist.
 
In Scotland, however,
One man would endeavor
To run to please God, but on Sundays, he’d never.
This brave Eric Liddell,
Whom none could belittle,
Held faith and resolve which a king could not whittle.
 
They all took their place
In the glorious race,
The high point of lives, formed by training and grace.
Each swift Englishman
Did their utmost and ran,
For medals, for country, for God, or for clan.
______________________
 

The Best Picture of 1981, Chariots of Fire captures not only two moving stories of talent and trial but also the thrill at the core of a race. The true accounts of Harold Abrahams and Eric Liddell reveal their similar skills as athletes and disparate purposes in employing them.

Ian Charleson is eminently devout Eric Liddell, who balances his desire to run by dedicating his victories to God’s service. I love his assertion that he feels God’s pleasure as he utilizes his talents; I sometimes feel the same when writing. Whereas his sister in the film insists he focus solely on God, anything can be used to give our Creator glory, whether it be peeling a potato or running a foot race. As Liddell runs, flailing his arms about in a wholly unorthodox manner, at times it is as if the Lord takes hold of him, pushing him faster than any contender would expect. Even so, he remained solid in his convictions concerning his Sunday heat. Beyond running for God, his refusal to compromise was disseminated to the world as a faithful stand that was ultimately rewarded. Abrahams, on the other hand, played by Ben Cross, runs with all the determination of a man who dares never lose. His desire is not to please God, fans, or even himself, but to prove his merit in the face of discrete anti-Semitism. When he sees Liddell run firsthand, he strives even harder, unable to cope with not being the best. Yet even when he wins his victorious Olympic medal, he’s just as overwhelmed by the weight of victory as by the weight of defeat. Ian Holm is likewise outstanding as his trainer Sam Mussabini, looking considerably older than in Alien just two years prior. By depicting both of these runners, as well as their comrades who run more or less for the fun of it, the film serves as a well-rounded view of this promising generation of young athletes.

Chariots of Fire is exceptional in its Oscar-winning electronic score by Vangelis and its painterly cinematography. The film abounds with scenes worthy of being hung on the wall, not least of which is the opening jog along the beach with the man and boy watching from a distance. Though the film is rather slow overall, its artistry is wondrous to behold. Speaking of slow, it also is notable for the frequent use of slow motion, which realizes the suspension of time during a race and how a contest lasting mere seconds can become a deep-seated memory of joy or grief. In the case of Liddell, the protracted running seems to portray a miracle in progress, especially with the transcendent accompanying music.

A film that well-deserved its four Academy Awards, Chariots of Fire is the greatest film about track and one of the finest sports films ever made, choosing the contemplative furor of a race over the energetic action of a ball game. Also, for Star Trek fans, Ben Cross’s appearance with Alice Krige (as his fiancée Sybil) affords the unlikely sight of Sarek dating the Borg Queen. Implacable values like those of Eric Liddell are sadly harder to come by now than they were in 1924, but his stand for his beliefs continues to serve as an example to all who are called to compromise too far.

Best line: (Liddell, when accused of arrogance) “My arrogance, sir, extends just as far as my conscience demands.”

VC’s best lines: (Eric, to his sister) “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.”

(Lord Cadogan, fed up with his decision not to run) “Don’t be impertinent, Liddell!”  (Eric) “The impertinence lies, sir, with those who seek to influence a man to deny his beliefs!”

 
Rank: 58 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

269 Followers and Counting

#48: Evita (1996)

07 Sunday Dec 2014

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(Best sung to “Rainbow Tour”)
 
Argentina never saw such a clamor
As when dear Evita said her last goodbye.
Nobody ever thought their favorite saint could die.
But despite the Rainbow Tour and the glamor,
There was a time when this national treasure
Was unknown.
Eva Duarte fled the life the poor carries
And found ways of earning more than simple bread,
Exchanging her partners for a higher bed.
As the premier actress in Buenos Aires,
At last she was introduced to
Juan Peron.
 
Though Eva wasn’t well-received
By most of the Argentine elite.
She made it clear that the people believed
That she still was for them from her loftier seat.
 
Governments in Argentina were not known
For being very stable over many years.
Peron was soon imprisoned by his fellow peers.
Eva and her devotees then freed Peron
And her influence just kept growing
All the time.
All her talk and stabs at granting some wishes
Did not change the status of the lowly poor
Or that her opponents thought she was a whore.
Aspirations proved a bit too ambitious;
Her body just couldn’t keep going
Past its prime.
 
Though Eva had a humble past
And a dubious rise to wealth and fame,
Her early death left the nation aghast.
Argentina would not evermore be the same.
_______________
 

Before Andrew Lloyd Webber found success with Cats and The Phantom of the Opera, and long before Tim Rice contributed splendid lyrics to Aladdin and The Lion King, they collaborated to create Evita, one of my favorite musicals of all time. Whereas Phantom has an overall operatic sensibility that indulges in some electric guitar here and there, Evita is much more of a rock opera, with very little spoken dialogue and a number of distinct but interweaving tunes, ranging from head-banging anthems to plaintive Latin elegies.

This film version was a revelation in several ways. In addition to being a lavish production that enhanced the impact of nearly every song, it marked the pinnacle of Madonna’s professional career, winning her a Golden Globe for Best Actress. Casting the “Material Girl” in the title role may have been an iffy decision, but she embodied the character’s dichotomy of sleaze and sensitivity. Though her voice may not be as strong as that of the original Evita’s Patti LuPone, she nails each melody and affords more vulnerability in songs like “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina.” In addition to Madonna’s acting high, the film revealed, at least to me, that Antonio Banderas (not to mention Jonathan Pryce) could sing. As the everyman Che who follows Eva throughout her life, Banderas provides cynical commentary on her rise to power and often represents the Argentine people in general, well-symbolized by their tango toward the end. Pryce is also excellent as Peron, although he looks inexplicably bored in certain scenes. Though Evita’s alleged sexual escapades are described in song, I appreciate that the filmmakers didn’t feel it necessary to depict them in graphic detail, choosing instead the more artistic motif of a light going out, later echoed in Eva’s death scene.

My favorite songs would have to be “Oh, What a Circus,” “Goodnight and Thank You,” “The Lady’s Got Potential,” “A New Argentina,” “And the Money Kept Rolling In,” “Rainbow High,” and of course, “Rainbow Tour.” My VC is also quite fond of “High Flying, Adored,” which is one of a series of five great songs in a row. A song added for the film, “You Must Love Me” also won the Best Original Song Oscar that year. The songs are enjoyable to listen and sing along to on their own, but the film’s pageant and cast of thousands give it added depth and spectacle that make up for the moral and political deficiencies of the characters.

Though oppressive mournfulness causes the beginning and end to drag, and I can’t really relate to such outward grief at the death of a politician (seriously, even if my favorite public figure died today, I doubt I would be moved to such uninhibited tears), Evita is a grand and poignant history lesson. With exquisite acting and singing, Lloyd Webber’s earbugging melodies, and some of the finest lyrics of Tim Rice’s career, Evita marks one of the high points in musical cinema.

Best line: (Eva, to Magaldi, a former flame who sings the same song repeatedly) “Your act hasn’t changed much.”  (Magaldi, noting her new lover) “Neither has yours.”

VC’s best line: (Eva) “Sometimes it’s very difficult to keep momentum when it’s you that you are following.”

VC’s other best line: (Eva) “I came from the people. They need to adore me, so Christian Dior me from my head to my toes. I need to be dazzling. I want to be rainbow high! They must have excitement—and so must I!”

 
Rank: 57 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

265 Followers and Counting

#57: Glory (1989)

27 Thursday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

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The Civil War was raging, and good Captain Robert Shaw
Wrote letters to his mother of the army that he saw.
Hurt and honored as a hero, he returned to Boston north
And was named the newest colonel of the Negro 54th.
 
He struggled with his station as a leader of recruits,
An officer of men who did not share his privileged roots.
He trained his infantry with all the harshness he felt right,
And, earning insult and respect, he taught them how to fight.
 
Nobody truly thought a colored regiment would see
The bloody badge of battle so their comrades could be free,
But Shaw and all his men insisted they should have their chance
To prove their love of freedom and their merit to advance.
 
When they at last met combat, Shaw then volunteered to lead
A charge against Fort Wagner, which they could not supersede.
The bravery, the glory of these honored soldiers strong
Ensured that color would not keep our country split for long.
__________________
 

Glory is a war movie that is not only thrilling and tragic but truly glorious. As hellish as battle is, there is a stirring admiration for those risking their lives for the sake of freedom, defense, patriotism, and duty. James Horner’s orchestral score with choral high points possesses a poignancy that captures the elusive “glory” of war itself and beautifies scenes like the final battle with an uplifting paean of majesty. (Strangely, the score wasn’t even nominated for an Oscar, though Horner’s other one that year for Field of Dreams was. Also, I noticed that one section of music sounded quite similar to Horner’s score of The Pagemaster five years later.)

In addition to the prestigious score, the cast is brilliant. Matthew Broderick sheds his Ferris Bueller persona for the role of Captain Shaw, a man caught under the weight of his own responsibility, forced to balance past friendships with expected protocol. Cary Elwes also turns in a serious performance as his friend Major Forbes, who urges him not go too far in his military rigidity. The black soldiers are diverse characters who are neither idealized nor derided. Andre Braugher as Shaw’s unprepared friend Thomas and Jihmi Kennedy as crack-shot Private Sharts provide the human weakness and improvement seen in other “boot camp” movies, while Denzel Washington won an Oscar for his potent portrayal of bitter Private Trip. The infamous “N word” is used frequently throughout the film, and though white characters say it too, Trip is the worst offender, prompting a brilliant reproach from Sergeant Major Rawlins (Morgan Freeman) that indicts not only the sayer of the word but the behavior that can prompt its use.

The period costumes and credible battle reenactments lend the film great realism, as do the repeated voiceovers of the real Shaw’s letters to home. This authenticity complements the film’s balanced storytelling, shifting between the viewpoints of white and black characters with great delicacy. It also points out historical details that many forget, such as the fact that slavery was also present in the Union (in the border states) and that prejudice and atrocities were not limited to the Confederates. Yet neither are whites demonized; even when Shaw is harsh to his recruits, he is attempting to prepare them seriously as few other commanders would and exhibits a keen sympathy despite his distance.

The battle scenes are fierce but not excessive, except for a shocking head shot five minutes in. Though the 54th Infantry’s sacrifice threatens to end the film on an overly depressing note, the intense battle at Fort Wagner (complete with Horner’s score and “bombs bursting in air”) is surprisingly inspiring, and the final scene speaks to the equality of death and what lies beyond. Glory depicts an early and lesser-known high point in African-American history. On this Thanksgiving Day, it seems appropriate to honor those who died to salvage a nation worthy thanking God for. (By the way, I was surprised that the film’s first day of training occurred on November 27, 1862, 152 years ago today.)

Best line: (Shaw, writing to his mother) “We fight for men and women whose poetry is not yet written but which will presently be as enviable and as renowned as any.”

 
Rank: 57 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

259 Followers and Counting