Life is full of love and song
For those with both within their hearts;
But why must death and sleep be different
From their former counterparts?
Grief will mark a soul’s departure
Here on earth where all lives cease;
But from grief comes celebration
In another life of peace.
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MPAA rating: PG
While Pixar has been rumored to be working on a project called Coco about the Mexican Day of the Dead (supposedly for a 2017 release), Reel FX and 20th Century Fox Animation beat them to the punch with 2014’s The Book of Life. This inventively animated romance starts out with a frame story reminiscent of The Princess Bride, with a confident museum guide recounting a story to a collection of rowdy schoolkids, who interject their occasional thoughts and worries as the tale progresses.
While these kids have a more typical cartoon human appearance, the characters in the tale being told are intentionally modeled as wooden puppets, with visible joints but no strings. This aesthetic combines with the off-kilter animation to give the CGI film a stop-motion aspect, not unlike The Lego Movie. The story itself follows three childhood friends, Manolo Sanchez (Diego Luna), Maria (Zoe Saldana), and Joaquin (Channing Tatum), who are destined to grow up into a love triangle. Just as viewers often debate who will get the girl in any number of series, the trio attract the attention of the two rulers of the afterlife, the lovely La Muerte of the Land of the Remembered and the bitter Xibalba of the Land of the Forgotten. Ron Perlman as Xibalba seems knowingly reminiscent of Hades in Hercules as he makes a game-changing bet with his counterpart as to which boy will marry Maria.
The Book of Life has a lot of positives. The animation is frequently enchanting and the characters surprisingly personable. While the characterization sometimes falters, I liked how one suitor was clearly meant as Maria’s soul mate, but the other was still given a chance to be heroic rather than being turned into a villain. The film also offers a uniquely positive view of death, treating it not as the end but as a second stage to reunite with loved ones and join in one big fiesta.
On the other hand, these same themes of death strike me as problematic. The depiction of the afterlife rings with Mexican culture but is entirely irreligious, as is the notion that our departed loved ones live on in happiness only as long as we remember them. The film’s conflict makes a point of noting that, without anyone to remember them, the dead will pass into the hellish Land of the Forgotten, which makes me wonder why no one is bothered by the fact that this will happen anyway within a few generations. I don’t remember my great-great-great grandfather; that doesn’t mean he’s not in Heaven. This idea of the afterlife is meant as a secular comfort but not a lasting one.
The Book of Life is also marred by tired clichés about being oneself against an overbearing parent; some awkwardly out-of-left-field pop songs, as if it’s trying to emulate Shrek; and oddly by the same animation I praised earlier. When I first saw the animation style, it reminded me of the Nickelodeon show El Tigre: The Adventures of Manny Rivera (picture below), and sure enough, director Jorge Gutierrez was also that show’s creator and apparently just translated the animation from 2D to 3D. While it works most of the time, certain scenes look strangely cheap with elaborate mustaches and protuberant noses that aren’t even trying for realism.
Here I go again, sounding all critical as if I dislike anything with flaws. Not so. The Book of Life rises as a delightful, energetic, and uniquely cultural change of pace from the usual stylings of Disney and DreamWorks while not coming off as low quality. Its themes of family and life and telling our own stories are commendable, and I enjoyed it, as I think most fans of animation will.
Best line: (one of the distraught schoolkids) “What is it with Mexicans and death?!”
After counting down a list of 365 movies and a catalog of 50 film scores, I’ve decided to find a nice round number for my future lists – 12! Top tens are everywhere so I’ll go two steps better and make every list a dozen. Lots of good things come in twelves: eggs, doughnuts, apostles, months, Gilbreths (look it up).
For my first Top Twelve, I’ll keep to the musical theme of my last list and recount my top musical numbers from musical films. This is not to say that these are necessarily the best songs, though some are. Rather, I consider a musical number to be the full package of a song: the vocals, the choreography, the cinematography, the physicality of the actors, the overall spectacle of the performance. All of these factors add up to pure entertainment, scenes I could watch anytime. (No animated songs this time; that’s another list and shall be told another time.) It does help that I love musicals in general, and of course this list is the product of personal preference, keeping everything to one song per musical. Let me know what you think, whether you agree or not so much. Let the listing commence!
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“America” – West Side Story (1961)
As popular as it is, West Side Story has never really grabbed me as one of the great musicals. It’s not that I dislike it; I just find it overrated. Nevertheless, I love the song “America,” sung by Oscar winner Rita Moreno and her Puerto Rican compadres. “America” turns a domestic argument over the pros and cons of a new home into an ingenious, toe-tapping debate. Full of witty rhyming come-backs and Latin flair, this is the highlight of the whole film.
As the centerpiece of Disney’s enchanting crossover into live action, “That’s How You Know” puts Amy Adams in the spotlight, while spanning the whole of Central Park. Despite this being the supposed real world, plenty of performers and pedestrians join her like in an animated musical, proving Giselle’s infectious appeal and musical joie de vivre. Patrick Dempsey’s stern confusion is the perfect counterpoint to all the sincerity around him.
I may be in the minority, but I really love the High School Musical films, perhaps because they came out when I was in the perfect tween age demographic. The musical numbers are their key strength, thanks to director/choreographer Kenny Ortega, and I had plenty to choose from. This over-the-top theme, in which Sharpay and Ryan dream big, blows them all away and includes visual cues from other Broadway musicals. While I like the second film best overall, this is proof that HSM reached its big-screen potential with the third film.
Dick Van Dyke probably wasn’t going to find any film to compare with Mary Poppins, but I think he came close with Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, at least in the music department. The film overall isn’t nearly as good, but the musical numbers (written by the Sherman Brothers) have the same energy Van Dyke brought to Poppins (and without the fake accent). When his Professor Potts stumbles into a carnival show, he tries at first just to keep up, but eventually leads the whole troupe in some lively choreography while singing the catchiest song about sticks you ever heard.
Simon the Zealot has always been depicted as one of the lesser apostles, but Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s Jesus Christ Superstar put him in the spotlight for one exuberant song. The zeal of Larry Marshall’s Simon is unmistakable as he goes nuts with a collection of worshipping dancers. Even if he thinks Christ has come to fight Rome, his ballyhoo becomes a genuine song of praise sure to get stuck in your head, while it brings out the head-banging side of my VC.
“Singin’ in the Rain” – Singin’ in the Rain (1952)
A tie here may make this list a baker’s dozen, but in a film full of memorable song-and-dance scenes, these two both rise to the top. “Make ‘em Laugh” is enough to lighten the heaviest moods, and Donald O’Connor’s manic energy is exhaustively entertaining. I’ve heard he had to go to the hospital after filming the scene, and I believe it. On the other hand, Gene Kelly is the star, and the title number is just too iconic to ignore. Classic to the last puddle.
Dick Van Dyke once more takes the stage in the most vigorous number from Mary Poppins. Bert and his crew of chimney sweeps take to the roofs of London to prove their superior choreography. There’s no real reason for all the rooftop hullabaloo, but it’s impressive to watch, and no matter what P.L. Travers said in Saving Mr. Banks, it cemented Van Dyke as “one of the greats.”
Sorry, I couldn’t find a video with the full number, but it’s my favorite part of Barbra Streisand’s inimitable Hello, Dolly! The vibrant dance steps and chipper ensemble wind through the streets of Yonkers as all the main players head to New York to fulfill their dreams. Even robots in 2805 will be humming this tune, according to WALL-E, and I’m glad that Pixar reintroduced this classic number to a new generation. Don’t take my word for it; go enjoy the movie for yourself.
“Barn Dance” – Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954)
While I don’t remember much of the film itself, it’s hard to forget this centerpiece of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. No lyrics necessary, just a country dance with some of the best gymnastics in any musical, as the Pontipee brothers in their colorful shirts fight for their chosen women in an epic dance-off.
When young Oliver Twist (an adorable Mark Lester) wakes up in a fancy home after knowing only hardships in his life, everything takes on a magical zest. The enticing cries of the street vendors overlap brilliantly, and everyone cavorts with the joy of a new day, from frilly schoolchildren to maids and handymen. It’s hard to top “Consider Yourself” earlier on, but “Who Will Buy?” carries the real wow of the film.
Silence, all you Les Mis haters! “One Day More” acts as the culmination of all the exceptional music that came before. Every character’s theme is fused into a rousing ensemble piece to prelude the next day’s battle. Any vocal weaknesses are covered by the power and quality of the group performance (including Russell Crowe), and even the irritating Thenardiers’ tune adds to the overall impact of this magnificent song.
Nothing could beat the greatest song from the greatest musical ever (just follow the link below). Julie Andrews as governess Maria teaches the von Trapp children how to sing and awakens their dormant musical talent. The streets of Salzburg are an ideal setting for their romp, and the backdrop of the Alps is glorious. Topped like a cherry with that unparalleled high note at the end, this classic scene is easily the king of all musical numbers.
(Best sung to “My Favorite Things”)
Austria’s hills hold a thrill for Maria;
Her fellow nuns simply have no idea
Just how to manage this angel of stress,
So she’s sent off as a new governess.
The children of Captain von Trapp, lucky seven,
Are quite a handful and no seventh heaven.
Though Captain formally keeps them in line,
Governesses find them less than benign.
Fraulein Maria is warm and kindhearted,
And soon her musical love is imparted.
Captain’s away so the children will play,
Learning to sing in the happiest way.
When the day ends,
Captain is mad,
But the children sing.
Reminded of music, he’s suddenly glad,
And soon they have him crooning.
Baroness Schraeder, whom Captain is dating,
Causes Maria to leave just by stating
That he’s in love with Maria, a fact
That brings her back in the next-to-last act.
After Maria and Captain are married,
Problems arise from the views he has carried.
Told by the Nazis that he’s to report,
Captain realizes that their time is short.
Leaving the country to keep from conforming,
They buy some time by that evening performing.
As they escape to the convent nearby,
Nazis close in to prevent their goodbye.
To the mountains,
The von Trapps flee
Into Switzerland.
Barely escaping, the family now free
Continue through vistas grand.
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The musical genre is one of my favorites, presumably because I enjoy music itself so much. I love how stories can be told succinctly through song, and the music of whatever I watch typically gets stuck in my head for some time afterward. The most recent favorite I found is a 2009 musical of The Count of Monte Cristo (hasn’t been filmed yet); before that, it was Frozen; before that, the discovery of Les Miserables. Yet as fun as it is to unearth exceptional new musicals, I always return to the greatest of them all: The Sound of Music.
After her Oscar-winning performance as Mary Poppins the previous year, Julie Andrews outdid herself as beloved nun-turned-governess-turned-wife Maria. She has both the voice and the charisma to make Maria genuinely endearing even while everyone else grouses about her. I particularly liked how the life of a nun was not derided as less worthy than married life but simply not for her, a fact that the Mother Superior recognized before Maria. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Christopher Plummer found his most famous role as Captain Georg von Trapp, the icy father who just needs a headache of a governess to reawaken his love of music and his own children.
I will admit that I find many of Hollywood’s Golden Age musicals rather boring, particularly straight dramatic adaptations like West Side Story, but The Sound of Music sidesteps that concern with its classic Rodgers and Hammerstein soundtrack, peppered with much humor and delightful character moments. Whenever it threatens to drag, a well-spaced musical number livens things up, or we get a laugh from the endearingly candid Maria or the “charming sponge” Max Detweiler (Richard Haydn). By the end, “fuzzy camera” romance gives way to a nail-biting thriller finale that shouldn’t leave anyone bored.
Along the way are stunning mountain vistas and some of the finest show tunes this side of Salzburg. Nowhere are these so well-combined as in “Do-Re-Mi,” a song about singing that brims with joie de vivre and ends on an unrivalled high note that always gives my VC goosebumps. The rest of the songs are equally marvelous, with not a dud in the bunch. “My Favorite Things” is always a joy, and the puppeteered “The Lonely Goatherd” is possibly the most exuberant and fun musical number that Hollywood ever offered. Even the slower songs range from intimate to inspirational and are the kind of hummable music that effortlessly ingrains itself into the listener’s ears and heart.
My family has always enjoyed The Sound of Music. My mom was Gretl’s age when it came out, and Maria’s wedding dress and veil stuck in her mind to influence her own wedding train. She even enjoyed the recent live television version with Carrie Underwood, a production that couldn’t compare with the original in any way but was a respectable effort nonetheless. Even if the film is not historically accurate about the real von Trapp family and thus none too popular in Austria, The Sound of Music is my favorite musical and Julie Andrews’ finest hour, a feast for the ears from start to finish.
Best lines: (Captain von Trapp) “It’s the dress. You’ll have to put on another one before you meet the children.” (Maria) “But I don’t have another one. When we entered the abbey, our worldly clothes were given to the poor.” (Captain) “What about this one?” (Maria) “The poor didn’t want this one.”
(“Uncle” Max) “I like rich people. I like the way they live. I like the way I live when I’m with them.”
(Best sung to “The Mob Song”)
In the countryside of France,
Where the bakers say “Bonjour,”
Lives a lovely mademoiselle who’s always reading books galore.
Belle just doesn’t quite fit in,
But still that doesn’t stop Gaston
From insisting that she marry him for his conceited brawn.
Through the mist, through the woods,
When Belle’s father tries to travel,
He ends up inside a castle dark and grim.
Belle protests and suggests
That the castle’s beastly owner
Make her stay his prisoner instead of him.
She’s afraid of her host and his temper,
And alarmed but then charmed and impressed
By the servants and shows
And a spellbinding rose,
Till the beast makes her flee,
Too oppressed.
While en route, though, the brute
Saves her life, and so from then on,
Their relationship begins to slowly grow.
When the Beast comes to love
And Belle sees her father needs her,
Her detainer has the heart to let her go.
But Gaston has a plan to coerce her
To be his, but she will not be played.
When she speaks of the Beast,
Gaston’s rage is increased,
And he rallies best and least
To invade.
Servants fight and defend;
As the raiders are assaulted,
Bold Gaston will not be halted from his prey.
Both engage, and both fall,
But true love will conquer all,
And thus without a curse’s thrall,
Love will stay.
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Beauty and the Beast is the epitome of a Disney fairy tale musical, complete with magic mirror, enchanted castle, magical rose, bleak curse, stunning animation, and Oscar-winning music of the highest order. Though preceded by The Little Mermaid, this was the undeniable sign that the Disney Renaissance was well under way and that animated musicals could be taken seriously, even nominated for Best Picture.
First off, the animation is gorgeous, a combination of traditionally animated characters and certain CGI backgrounds that allow for some astoundingly beautiful moments, like the famous ballroom dance beneath the chandelier. While Hunchback and Tarzan had similarly striking visuals, Beauty and the Beast was one of the first Disney films to possess a smoothness of line and motion unseen in strictly hand-drawn features thanks to a new CAPS technology (technically, The Rescuers Down Under was the first).
The beauty of the animation is matched only by the music, which garnered two of Alan Menken’s well-deserved Oscars for Best Score and Best Song. From the very first musical number incorporating Belle, Gaston, and the entire village, my VC could tell that this was not a typical cartoon with tunes, but a new breed of Broadway-quality musical that was sure to be adapted to the stage, which it was. Her favorite song, though, is Gaston’s clever tavern chantey, one of the few villain songs to not be or even sound villainous. Though “Be Our Guest” and the Oscar-winning title song are more well-known, I’ve always preferred the dark, rhythmic “Mob Song” right before the castle siege.
The film is also notable for its moral themes. For once, the heroine is not a rebellious girl eager to disobey silly rules, but a noble daughter sacrificing herself for her father. The lesson of “beauty lies within” is established from the initial prologue, but rather than being a generic villain, Gaston illustrates the opposite, that evil can also lie within even with outward beauty. The romance between Belle and the Beast is not rushed, and even though its growth is depicted through the typical musical montage, the sudden sacrifice preceding it allowed a solid starting point for the Beast’s sudden change of heart and manner.
Beauty and the Beast is the purest example of a fairy tale adaptation I can imagine, created when they could be light-hearted or dark on their own terms without the grim revisionism of nowadays. Disney hit its stride with this musical masterpiece, a film in which music, characters, and animation seem to converge effortlessly into enjoyable entertainment for kids and adults alike.
Best line: (Gaston’s admirers, during his song) “For there’s no one as burly or brawny/ [Gaston] As you see, I’ve got biceps to spare,/ [Lefou] “Not a bit of him scraggly or scrawny,/ [Gaston] That’s right, and every last inch of me’s covered with hair!” and (Gaston) “I use antlers in all of my decorating!”
(Best sung to “When You Believe”)
In captivity,
In Egypt, Hebrews send their prayer
Waiting for their God above
To free them from their yoke.
Young Moses grows up free,
Adopted into Pharaoh’s care,
Till the past he knew not of
Cannot help but provoke.
He can’t live as a fraud
And sadly flees.
He finds refuge
And life anew.
Sent by his awesome God
To Rameses,
He has unease but follows through,
Though Pharaoh disagrees.
Brothers long ago,
The prophet and the Pharaoh clash.
All the plagues sent from the Lord
Demand his people freed.
The Pharaoh’s hardened “No”
Requires death to end the lash.
No such cost can be ignored,
And Pharaoh has to heed.
God’s people thus depart
To promised land,
Until the sea
Lies in the way.
Pharaoh, more sore than smart,
Makes his last stand
Until the hand of God that day
Provides salvation grand.
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Hollywood isn’t known for remaining faithful where Biblical source material is concerned, but the greatest proof that it is possible is The Prince of Egypt, one of the first animated films of Dreamworks’ filmography. While Dreamworks Animation’s lineup has ranged from excellent (How to Train Your Dragon, Chicken Run) to mediocre (Shark Tale, Bee Movie), not since have they reached the high mark they set right from the beginning.
No Moses film yet has stuck completely to the Book, often downplaying Aaron’s involvement and Pharaoh’s vacillation during the plagues. Though this one too takes its liberties, it indeed remains faithful to the “essence, values, and integrity” of the source material, as stated in the prelude note that reveals the filmmakers’ respect for the story they’ve undertaken. The film does borrow a few aspects of The Ten Commandments, but improves upon every one. Rather than making Moses and Rameses rivals from the beginning due to a contrived love triangle, it makes them close friends and brothers pitted against each other in a tragedy of pride and divine intervention. Rather than Moses’ murder of the Egyptian being violent but somehow justifiable, in this version it is instead portrayed as an accident, allowing Moses to remain righteous while providing the shame to propel him to self-banishment. (I realize it was no accident in the Bible, but I like this kind of change.) All this improvement also comes with masterful abbreviation; events that took The Ten Commandments half an hour to portray are depicted in mere minutes of concise storytelling, sometimes funny but often of surprising depth.
Enhancing both plot and entertainment, the film’s soundtrack by Stephen Schwartz is inspired, with every song memorable and perfectly spaced in the film’s runtime. From Israeli singer Ofra Haza’s impassioned “Deliver Us” at the beginning to the Oscar-winning “When You Believe” as the Hebrews depart Egypt, the music serves the story rather than replacing it, just as the CGI flourishes enrich the beautiful hand-drawn animation. I’ve often hummed Jethro’s “Through Heaven’s Eyes” whenever speed is required (somehow it seems to make me move faster), while “The Plagues” has a dreadful majesty reminiscent of the music in Disney’s Hunchback.
Likewise, The Prince of Egypt is a perfect example of star power applied judiciously. The voice actors are all big names, including Val Kilmer as Moses, Ralph Fiennes as Rameses, Patrick Stewart as Seti, Sandra Bullock as Miriam, and Michelle Pfeiffer as Tzipporah. In each case, the voice so fits the character that I don’t just hear Jeff Goldblum but a believable Aaron, not just Danny Glover but a jolly Jethro. I could hardly recognize Steve Martin and Martin Short as Pharaoh’s magicians, who nonetheless have fun with their own song, “Playing with the Big Boys.” It’s interesting to note that, just as Kilmer also voiced the powerful yet personal depiction of God (with background whispers from the rest of the cast), Charlton Heston also voiced God in The Ten Commandments.
The most moving part (pun intended) is rightly the parting of the Red Sea, just as much a wonder to behold as it was in DeMille’s 1956 film. A shot of some enormous fish in the wall of water, lit by distant lightning, has an eerie power best suited to this animated outlet. The Prince of Egypt combines high studio quality with an earnestness unseen in many Biblical films, eschewing dark revisionism and modernist explanations in favor of faithful and profound filmmaking. It’s one of the few animated films that I feel should have been nominated for Best Picture, a brilliant example of how cartoons can be elevated to dramatic excellence.
Best line: (Miriam, singing “When You Believe”) “Many nights we’ve prayed, with no proof anyone could hear. In our hearts a hopeful song we barely understood. Now we are not afraid, although we know there’s much to fear. We were moving mountains, long before we knew we could….”
(Best sung to “Over the Rainbow”)
In a black-and-white Kansas, on a farm,
Sweet young Dorothy fears that Toto will come to harm.
From this desolate landscape, she takes flight
To a land full of color by a tornado’s might.
Her high arrival kills a witch,
Which pleases Munchkins whose high pitches hail her,
But Dorothy’s a target soon;
A western wicked witch with broom
Tries to assail her.
On the Yellow Brick Road, she makes her way
To the Wizard of Oz, who might send her home that day.
She makes friends on her journey who take part:
Scarecrow wants brains, and Tin Man dreams of a loving heart.
A craven lion needing nerve
Joins them in hopes that Oz will serve their hoping.
But first they must confront the Witch,
Who takes the girl without a hitch
And leaves her moping.
When the witch has been melted, randomly,
They return to the Wizard for their gratuity.
Though the fraud does his utmost, once he’s flown,
That’s when Dorothy knows that there is no place like home.
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As prominent as Indiana Jones is, The Wizard of Oz is even more ingrained into popular culture. Without any reservations, I can call it the best movie for children ever made. A uniquely American fantasy, it’s imaginative and well-crafted enough to create the ravishing fantasy world of Oz, but also simple and sincere enough to appeal to the youngest of viewers.
Its hallowed spot in our culture owes much to how old it is, released in 1939 along with other classics like Gone with the Wind and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Because of its age, even grandparents recall seeing it when they were children, and it effectively brings out the child in everyone, whether to sing along to the Munchkins’ “Ding, dong! The Witch is dead!” or to shed a tear at Dorothy’s sappy but still heartwarming appreciation of home sweet home. If the film were made today (which it wouldn’t be, of course; the ingenious switch from black-and-white to color is also a product of perfect cinematic timing), I doubt it would receive the same universal praise. For many critics, sentimentality is easy to condemn, and only uncompromising nostalgia makes it into something enchanting.
Once Dorothy reaches Oz, most of the acting is, well, overacting, as was typical of the time, but rather than laughable histrionics, this lends the film an enhanced storybook quality, as if a parent were reading the lines of a bedtime story and pretending for their delighted listener. Judy Garland exudes innocent wonder as she enters the rainbow world of Oz, like a precursor to Lucy stepping through the wardrobe. She’s the Alice-like straight-girl to the unusually charming comrades she obtains in Oz/Wonderland, allowing the audience to marvel at their peculiarity while accepting them as lovable companions of childhood. Ray Bolger as the Scarecrow, Jack Haley as the Tin Man, and especially Bert Lahr as the Cowardly Lion are as synonymous with the film as Margaret Hamilton’s Wicked Witch of the West, the most iconic witch of all time, complete with broom, pointy hat, green skin, sinister cackle, pyrotechnics, and armies of memorable minions.
These aspects alone might have been enough to make it a childhood favorite, but the filmmakers outdid themselves in every way. While many scenes are obviously on an elaborate set, the set design is phenomenal, particularly the bright-hued (and very small) Munchkinland and the Witch’s cliffside castle. Plus, there’s outstanding choreography, whether with the crowds of the Emerald City or just the four main characters skipping down the Yellow Brick Road. Plus, there’s instantly recognizable quotes aplenty (“I’ll get you, my pretty…and your little dog too”; “Lions and tigers and bears, oh my”; “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain”). Plus, there’s the fantastical special effects (which surprisingly did not win an Oscar), some dated but others still impressive, like the realistic twister and the fanciful costumes. Plus, there’s the most classic of classic soundtracks from Edgar Harburg and Harold Arlen, including the Oscar-winning “Over the Rainbow,” the #1 tune on AFI’s list of 100 cinematic songs, though I always enjoy the rhythmic laughter of “The Merry Old Land of Oz” as well.
All combined, this greatest adaptation of L. Frank Baum’s book is still the cinematic delight it was upon its release decades ago. Its classic status relies heavily on nostalgia, for The Wizard of Oz easily conjures the wonder, fear, and excitement that my family had when we each first saw it. It deserves to be one of the first films of childhood, so that adults can reminisce while the kids are introduced to the marvelous land of Oz.
Best line (none of the obvious): (Dorothy) “How can you talk if you haven’t got a brain?” (Scarecrow) “I don’t know, but some people without brains do an awful lot of talking, don’t they?”
VC’s best line: (Dorothy) “There’s no place like home!”
(Best sung to “Son of Man”)
To the jungle, humans come
And are challenged to survive;
Soon only a babe is left alive.
Then adopted by gorillas,
He is raised stalwart and strong,
Strong to face the jungle’s killers
And labor to belong.
Son of man and of primate,
Tarzan is amazed to see
Strangers like him who await
Sightings of gorillas roaming free.
When one is soon in danger,
He swoops in and rescues Jane,
Who’s enamored of this stranger,
This lord of his domain.
Tarzan is forbidden to
Put his family in harm’s way,
But he learns so much that’s new
That he sneaks away to Jane each day.
In trying to delight her,
The gorillas he reveals,
And wicked Clayton follows on their heels.
Though he thought to leave his homeland,
Tarzan returns to fight
And defend his friends and withstand
The poachers in the night.
Son of man and of primate,
Tarzan then is joined by Jane;
Ruler of the jungle great,
Tarzan will remain to yell and reign.
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Sometimes cited as the last great film of the Disney Renaissance, Tarzan is indeed one of the most beautifully created animated films I’ve seen. It came out right when I was getting old enough to enjoy movies as more than just a juvenile distraction and was one of the first Disney films I fully understood. Oh, and it made me cry at the end. That’s always list-worthy.
Adapted from the character created by Edgar Rice Burroughs, Tarzan puts the Disney spin on its source material, with funny animal sidekicks and musical accompaniment, but it doesn’t feel as potentially incongruous as The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Rosie O’Donnell and Wayne Knight are ideal comic reliefs as Terk and Tantor, while the resonant voice of Brian Blessed adds an ingratiating menace to Clayton, who meets an unusually horrific end. (Then again, this is the studio that has smashed, dropped, disintegrated, eaten, shattered, dragged to hell, and shish-kebobed their other villains, so perhaps it’s not unusual.) Tony Goldwyn is rather average as Tarzan, aside from an outstanding yell, but Minnie Driver’s voice fits Jane perfectly, bookish and British. Not to mention, there’s Lance Henriksen as stern Kerchak and Glenn Close as Kala, who provides a touching example of adoption and maternal love.
No other Disney film matches the lush imagery of the African jungle, created with a pioneering and award-winning animation technology called Deep Canvas. As Tarzan swoops effortlessly through the trees, the bright foliage provides an incomparable living environment, put to good use in the often spectacular action scenes. Even the water has a uniquely fluid appearance.
Of course, I must mention Phil Collins’ remarkable soundtrack, one of my favorites of any Disney film. Though The Lion King had a couple songs performed by background singers, Tarzan stepped out of the box in having most of the music not sung by the characters. Phil Collins provides the vocals for the brisk and memorable montages, such as “Two Worlds,” “Son of Man,” and “Strangers Like Me.” The tender lullaby “You’ll Be in My Heart” won the Oscar for Best Original Song, and I was once temporarily obsessed with the percussion-filled “Trashin’ the Camp.” As kids, my cousin and I would play it over and over and over, just jamming and rewinding with glee.
Tarzan relies heavily on montages, but they are among its finest moments, allowing for much humor, heart, and character development in a short time. Unlike Atlantis: The Lost Empire, the language barrier is not simply written away but gradually lowered over time, and the believable romance between Jane and Tarzan is handled with particular skill and beauty. I know that Burroughs’ book is substantially different, but this adaptation carries all the emotion and grandeur of Disney’s best, including a bittersweet happy ending.
Best line: (Tantor, finally standing up to Terk) “That’s it! I’ve had it with you and your emotional constipation! Tarzan needs us, and we’re gonna help him! You got that? Now pipe down, and hang on tight! We’ve got a boat to catch.”
(Best sung to “At the End of the Day”)
At the end of his sentence Valjean had grown bitter.
Nineteen years of unkindness had done him no good,
But a bishop understood
And presented Valjean with a blessing,
An example to do the right thing, whene’er he could,
With the faith he’s professing.
At the end of eight years, Valjean, never a quitter,
Has broken parole and become a town mayor.
Though a worker is dismissed,
He is much too distracted by tension
From the new chief of police Inspector Javert,
Who displays condescension.
At the end of a spiraling time of degrading,
The desperate Fantine’s at the end of her rope.
Though Javert shows no concern,
It’s Valjean who attempts to repair her,
But he too lets the world learn
Of the truth all because of an error.
But a promise he must obey
At the end of the day.
At the end of the day, Fantine’s daughter is lonely,
So Valjean becomes father to little Cosette.
Then in Paris they both hide, but Javert isn’t one to forget,
And Valjean’s always aware of this old threat,
As the years are progressing.
When Cosette is of age, per Valjean’s resolution,
A glance captures the heart of one Marius, who
Is devoted to fight in the new revolution,
As planned by his young and impractical crew.
When the fight starts to break out,
Amid jealousy, love, and betrayal,
Jean Valjean rescues the lad, ever devout,
With Javert on his trail.
At the end of the battle, Valjean is confronted
By the merciless man to whom mercy he showed.
Though Javert does what is right,
He can’t live with the law he has broken;
When Valjean makes his last flight
And his final goodbyes have been spoken,
In peace his soul will stay
At the end of the day.
______________________
As much as I love musicals, I truthfully have had little exposure to those productions restricted to the stage, and until Les Miserables was adapted to film, I had never heard its music, aside from “I Dreamed a Dream.” I was definitely missing out. The fantastic music alone is enough to make Les Mis list-worthy, but director Tom Hooper’s dramatization has all the artistry and exceptional acting to make it one of the greatest musicals ever.
I’m a bit puzzled that Les Miserables received mixed reviews upon release, with some viewers lauding its production values and acting while others could only complain. Staunch fans of the stage musical claimed the actors’ voices couldn’t compare to the great singers of past productions, and some cynical critics decried its melodrama and the gimmick of having the actors sing live, as opposed to relying on the usual pre-recorded tracks. One reviewer grumbled about a first half of actors who can’t sing and a second half of singers who can’t act. Open your eyes, people! Are a few flat notes really enough to overshadow such a powerful story of forgiveness, love, and triumph?
When my family and I saw Les Mis on Christmas Day, we had nothing to compare it to. Having since taken an interest in the music and having watched the 25th Anniversary Concert with Alfie Boe as Jean Valjean, I will admit that some of the voices are not up to the high standard set by the stage. Yet Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe still excel with Oscar-worthy performances, and even if they’re straining during “Bring Him Home” or “Stars,” they both are entirely pleasant to the ear. Amanda Seyfried certainly hits the high notes for Cosette, and Eddie Redmayne is perfect in voice and emotion for the role of torn lover/revolutionary Marius. Samantha Barks had played Eponine in the 25th Anniversary Concert, and her performance here is just as excellent. Anne Hathaway earned a Best Supporting Actress Academy Award for her brief but incredibly moving role as Fantine, and though she was the target of some inexplicable hate, I think anyone who watches her rendition of “I Dreamed a Dream” again will remember why she deserved that Oscar.
As for the songs and lyrics, there’s not much I can say other than they are awe-inspiring. “At the End of the Day,” “Who Am I?,” “Red and Black,” “On My Own,” and “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” are exquisite beyond words, and “Do You Hear the People Sing?” ends the film on an unparalleled note of magnificence. Even the Oscar-nominated new song for the film “Suddenly” fits in beautifully, fleshing out Valjean’s early relationship with Cosette in a way to which all parents can relate. My main complaint for the soundtrack and the film in general is the Thenardiers and their tavern showstopper “Master of the House,” which is unnecessarily profane in an otherwise devout story. As comic relief, Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter do well, but I feel their characters’ presence is sadly degrading to the film for the most part. Yet even they play a role in creating my favorite song of the film “One Day More,” the culmination of all prior melodies. Every character takes part in making it truly glorious, one of the high points of musical cinema, period.
The story of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables was excellent enough to already earn placement on my list in the form of the 1998 non-musical version with Liam Neeson, and the music is grand, sumptuous, and classic. Putting them together with some talented actors at their best created, in my opinion, the best film of 2012. Oh, that more musicals would reach the screen so majestically!
Best line: (the Bishop, played by Colm Wilkinson, the original Jean Valjean) “But remember this, my brother, see in this some higher plan. You must use this precious silver to become an honest man. By the witness of the martyrs, by the Passion and the Blood, God has raised you out of darkness; I have bought your soul for God!”
(Best sung to “Reviewing the Situation”)
Young Oliver Twist is a boy,
Orphanage-bound, just a boy,
Who one day attempts to step out and to beg for some more,
But all he receives from adults are insults and the door.
Then departing his situation,
He decides to make his way to London town,
Find his fortune and salvation,
And is welcomed gladly rather than put down.
He falls into the thieving crowd,
The drinking and deceiving crowd.
Old Fagin has been profiting
From all his boys’ pickpocketing.
Bill Sykes provides the bigger loot,
But Fagin fears the bigger brute.
Dear Oliver just tags along with them.
He’s caught by police for a crime,
But he’s released from the crime.
He is taken in by a rich man, his great-uncle in fact,
But Fagin and Bill will not risk the law he might attract.
They abduct him from his location,
And Bill’s girlfriend Nancy bears a guilty heart.
She tries risking Bill’s irritation
To return the boy before things fall apart.
Bill catches them before she can
And beats her, a remorseless man.
He knows police soon will arrive,
But they will not take Bill alive.
He takes the boy to see new heights,
But Bill’s undoing reunites
Young Oliver with happiness again.
_______________
As a lover of musicals, how could I not include one of the few to win the Best Picture Academy Award? I’ve enjoyed watching Oliver! since I was a kid, and I never tire of its alternately rousing and fun musical numbers and Onna White’s outstanding choreography, which was awarded a special Oscar as well. As an adaptation of a stage musical based on Dickens’s book Oliver Twist, the film hits all the right notes of the story while serving up memorable characters and some of my favorite stage songs.
Mark Lester is downright adorable as Oliver, and though his voice is weak (I’ve read he was actually dubbed by the musical director’s daughter), it captures his gentle fragility. Ron Moody originated the role of Fagin on stage, and he earned and deserved a Best Actor nomination for his sneaky yet strangely sympathetic performance. Jack Wild was also nominated for Best Supporting Actor for his role as the Artful Dodger; Harry Secombe is an excellent operatic Mr. Bumble; and Shani Wallis plays the lovely Nancy, emoting her inner conflict between doing the right thing for Oliver and submitting to her abusive man. Other adaptations have tried to make Bill Sikes intimidating, but Oliver Reed is the best, progressing from a stoic punk to a coldblooded murderer. Considering how fun most of the music is, the film’s climax is surprisingly tense (or maybe I’m just afraid of heights).
The Oscar- and Tony-winning score really is the best part. Because of it, Oliver! ranks among my VC’s top 20 movies; she once bought the soundtrack and the sheet music and even saw a dinner theater production. Most great musicals still have an occasional dud, but even the slower songs are excellent and further the story’s plot or emotional development. Some songs have the stage quality of being restricted to a single room, while others take full advantage of the space and freedom that musical cinema affords. The first song “Food, Glorious Food” begins the film on a somber high note, but the film’s grandeur truly begins with the sprawling welcome of “Consider Yourself,” which is a wonder of set design, choreography, and Oscar-winning direction. I always enjoy Fagin’s numbers, “You’ve Got to Pick a Pocket or Two” and “Reviewing the Situation,” while my VC is partial to Nancy’s, particularly “It’s a Fine Life” and the euphemistic “Oom-Pah-Pah.” My favorite, though, would have to be “Who Will Buy?” at the beginning of the second half, a gradually building, layered song which becomes another stunningly choreographed spectacle and which I’ve caught myself singing a few times.
One of the last great Golden Age musicals and the last G-rated Best Picture winner, Oliver! captures the unfair cruelty that was the point of Dickens’s novel, while balancing humor, tension, Oscar-worthy sets and costumes, and amazing music to create one of the finest musical adaptations.
Best line: (Oliver Twist) “Please, sir, may I have some … more?” (followed by Mr. Bumble’s) “More?!”
VC’s best line: (a drunk Mr. Sowerberry, when Oliver’s cruel foster family have trapped him in a coffin) “Well, having a rest, Mr. Bumble?” (Noah) “He’s sitting on Oliver.” (Mr. Sowerberry) “Quite right, we must all sit on Oliver.”
Fresh out of jail but in need of reform,
“Joliet” Jake, for whom odd is the norm,
Pairs up with his brother, one Elwood by name.
The orphanage where they grew up to such shame
Is led by a nun, who can’t pay a tax claim.
A visit to church has them both see the light:
They’ll rebuild the band to gain funds in the right.
From hotel bar has-beens who croon empty chairs
To one harried husband whose woman declares
He ought not to leave her, all members are theirs.
Their first gig does not go exactly as planned,
But soon they book just the right hall for their band.
The trouble is, as they’ve been driving around,
They’ve gained enemies who harass, hate, and hound,
Like Nazis and cowboys and cops, who surround.
They earn enough money so Elwood and Jake
Take off with a chaotic mess in their wake.
They flee through Chicago with foes on their tail,
And, due to their mission from God, they prevail.
Although luck runs out, the two still rock the jail.
_______________________
Based on the Saturday Night Live skit with a screenplay by Dan Aykroyd and director John Landis, The Blues Brothers is a one-of-a-kind comedy that never gets old. John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd are at the top of their games as the titular siblings, boasting an iconic suited presence and an unflappable demeanor, like the Men in Black without Agent J’s reactions. The two are absolutely hilarious as they endure being chased, shot at, and blown up with cool nonchalance, as if it’s all just another day in the life of a blues musician on the run.
Despite its simple storyline, the film contains many marvelous elements that work together to create a unique musical comedy. There’s the music, with plenty of blues, yes, but also tastes of gospel, soul, scat, rock, and even country/western (I still don’t understand the difference). There’s the comedy, with Belushi and Aykroyd shifting from laconic assurance to con-man determination and seeming to enjoy the ride just as much as we the audience. The film starts at a slow, measured pace, such as showing the inner mechanisms of a rising bridge rather than just the bridge, but builds in action and absurdity as villains, jokes, and vehicles begin to pile up with abandon. There are the car chases, long stretches of zealous mayhem that impart the same strange destructive satisfaction of a demolition derby. There are the cameos, with big musical names like James Brown, Aretha Franklin, John Lee Hooker, Ray Charles, and Cab Calloway, who don’t simply appear but contribute energetic performances and mostly serve a purpose in the plot as well. Other scene-stealing stars include Carrie Fisher as a scorned hit woman with an affinity for weaponry, John Candy as a police chief, and Henry Gibson as an Illinois Nazi with an over-the-top final scene, as well as other appearances by Twiggy, Chaka Khan, Frank Oz, and even Steven Spielberg. By the way, that kid that tries to steal the guitar in Ray Charles’ shop went on to play Argyle, the limousine driver in Die Hard.
All these elements that could potentially work on their own are only enhanced by their fun overlapping. My favorite parts would have to be Aretha Franklin’s “Think” and the excessive, car-ravaging climax, which is the definition of overkill. The film’s classic plotline has gone on to inspire many imitators, including The Muppets in 2011 and the best episode of Phineas and Ferb entitled “Dude, We’re Getting the Band Back Together.” It’s a shame that John Belushi met his end only two years after this, his most iconic role. Minus the frequent language, it remains his best film, a cult classic, and one of the funniest comedies of the ‘80s.
Best line: (Elwood Blues) “We’re on a mission from God.”
VC’s best line: (Jake, with fake accent, causing trouble in a fancy restaurant) “How much for the little girl? How much for the women?” (father at next table) “What?” (Jake) “Your women. I want to buy your women. The little girl, your daughters… sell them to me. Sell me your children!”
Rhyme and Reason 