I adored ROMAN HOLIDAY. The concept is a no-brainer: put two of the most beautiful people on Earth together in one of the planet's most beautiful cities. The genius, however, is in the execution. There are no false notes in this movie, and I found it to be a refreshing counterpoint to the popular notion of the paramount importance of romantic love.
I saw this one on the couch with my wife and child. When it was over, my child immediately wanted to see it again. Before he went to sleep, asked if we could keep the movie forever. "Why?" I asked.
"It's my favorite movie. It's even better than GODZILLA."
So there you have it, folks. Better than GODZILLA. Praise just doesn't get much higher than that.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Ghostbusters
I've decided that GHOSTBUSTERS is a classic.
I sat down and watched this picture with my family this weekend, and I wondered how it would hold up after 20 years. Well, it was still funny, it was still exciting, and it was still a great time from soup to nuts.
I just might plunk down some money and buy this one.
I sat down and watched this picture with my family this weekend, and I wondered how it would hold up after 20 years. Well, it was still funny, it was still exciting, and it was still a great time from soup to nuts.
I just might plunk down some money and buy this one.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
The Rules of the Game
Plot, character, and so on are enough. I enjoyed the heck out of RULES OF THE GAME.
I don't know why, but I find it much easier to identify with pre-War French aristocrats than English aristocrats of nearly any era. Perhaps it's because the English were on top for so long, while one senses that after Waterloo, the French had to settle for self-delusion. These people don't put me off because I know that their entire world is about to come crashing down around them.
THE RULES OF THE GAME features a character who feels passionately about collecting musical instruments and devices. In a major scene, he opens the curtains on his prized possession, a complex musical machine featuring an array of players whose music goes from harmony to discord and back again. At the machine's apex, we see the figure of a nude woman, painted reclining against a hazy backdrop. Just as this depiction of feminine sexuality serves as the machine's focal point, so feminine sexuality (and masculine reaction to and interaction with it) serves as the focal point of a film in which a multitude of chracters bang and blow on their respective instruments in a sometimes melodic, sometimes cacophanous display.
This picture has so many interweaving plots, subplots, and concerns that it'd take 5,000 words just to describe them all. This could lead to a bewildering tangle of narratives, but THE RULES OF THE GAME creates such interesting and diverse characters that we have no problem keeping them and their stories straight. It helps when the film has no wasted frames.as I mentioned before, there are no wasted frames. Since there's always something happening, our minds don't have time to wander. Instead, we're forced to focus, to keep up, and the effort proves to be worth the reward. Be it keeping an eye on the background characters while the foreground players attract the most attention or simply enjoying the precision with which doors open and close and actors make their entrances and exits, THE RULES OF THE GAME keeps us entertained while conducting us ever deeper into the minds and hearts of its people. It climaxes with a bang, it closes with a wallop, and it entertains from beginning to end.
Even the most hypofrancophiliac among us couldn't help but enjoy it.
I don't know why, but I find it much easier to identify with pre-War French aristocrats than English aristocrats of nearly any era. Perhaps it's because the English were on top for so long, while one senses that after Waterloo, the French had to settle for self-delusion. These people don't put me off because I know that their entire world is about to come crashing down around them.
THE RULES OF THE GAME features a character who feels passionately about collecting musical instruments and devices. In a major scene, he opens the curtains on his prized possession, a complex musical machine featuring an array of players whose music goes from harmony to discord and back again. At the machine's apex, we see the figure of a nude woman, painted reclining against a hazy backdrop. Just as this depiction of feminine sexuality serves as the machine's focal point, so feminine sexuality (and masculine reaction to and interaction with it) serves as the focal point of a film in which a multitude of chracters bang and blow on their respective instruments in a sometimes melodic, sometimes cacophanous display.
This picture has so many interweaving plots, subplots, and concerns that it'd take 5,000 words just to describe them all. This could lead to a bewildering tangle of narratives, but THE RULES OF THE GAME creates such interesting and diverse characters that we have no problem keeping them and their stories straight. It helps when the film has no wasted frames.as I mentioned before, there are no wasted frames. Since there's always something happening, our minds don't have time to wander. Instead, we're forced to focus, to keep up, and the effort proves to be worth the reward. Be it keeping an eye on the background characters while the foreground players attract the most attention or simply enjoying the precision with which doors open and close and actors make their entrances and exits, THE RULES OF THE GAME keeps us entertained while conducting us ever deeper into the minds and hearts of its people. It climaxes with a bang, it closes with a wallop, and it entertains from beginning to end.
Even the most hypofrancophiliac among us couldn't help but enjoy it.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Be Cool
In BE COOL, John Travolta's Chili Palmer is so cool he's certifiably insane.
The movie could play this for laughs, but its mistaking of psychotic disregard for one's personal safety serves as just another mistake in a long list of them. BE COOL begins amusingly enough, but it quickly descends into a tedious mishmash of cheap jokes, lame stereotypes and jokes that would be thrilled to elicit even a thud.
How can this be? GET SHORTY is great fun, and Elmore Leonard's literary sequel keeps the laughs coming. Somehow, however, BE COOL just doesn't get it. Ah, well.
The movie could play this for laughs, but its mistaking of psychotic disregard for one's personal safety serves as just another mistake in a long list of them. BE COOL begins amusingly enough, but it quickly descends into a tedious mishmash of cheap jokes, lame stereotypes and jokes that would be thrilled to elicit even a thud.
How can this be? GET SHORTY is great fun, and Elmore Leonard's literary sequel keeps the laughs coming. Somehow, however, BE COOL just doesn't get it. Ah, well.
Monday, September 25, 2006
My Best Girl
MY BEST GIRL is an excellent picture.
Here's the setup: Mary Pickford plays Maggie Johnson, a stock clerk at Merrill's Department Store. When Charles Rogers's Joe Grant hires on, sparks fly and it isn't long before the two are hopelessly in love. But there's trouble: Joe Grant is actually Joe Merrill, scion of the wealthy merchant family, and he's engaged to a high-society girl. Will Pickford and her working-class sensibility triumph over the objections of Merrill's family and the dicates of upper-crust society? Does the sun rise in the morning?
Ok, so the storyline isn't exactly unique to the genre. What sells this movie, however, is Pickford's brilliant comic performance as the put-upon Maggie, a young woman trying to fulfill her responsibilites while carving out a little happiness for herself. Pickford is a mistress of the doubletake, and she excells at keeping the film's comic tone alive through all its twists and turns. When she shifts gears and goes for straight drama in the climax, we buy it and ride along with her. MY BEST GIRL absolutely hooked me.
Here's the setup: Mary Pickford plays Maggie Johnson, a stock clerk at Merrill's Department Store. When Charles Rogers's Joe Grant hires on, sparks fly and it isn't long before the two are hopelessly in love. But there's trouble: Joe Grant is actually Joe Merrill, scion of the wealthy merchant family, and he's engaged to a high-society girl. Will Pickford and her working-class sensibility triumph over the objections of Merrill's family and the dicates of upper-crust society? Does the sun rise in the morning?
Ok, so the storyline isn't exactly unique to the genre. What sells this movie, however, is Pickford's brilliant comic performance as the put-upon Maggie, a young woman trying to fulfill her responsibilites while carving out a little happiness for herself. Pickford is a mistress of the doubletake, and she excells at keeping the film's comic tone alive through all its twists and turns. When she shifts gears and goes for straight drama in the climax, we buy it and ride along with her. MY BEST GIRL absolutely hooked me.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?
WILL SUCCESS SPOIL ROCK HUNTER? begins with the familiar Fox logo and opening music, but with a twist: Tony Randall stands in the lower-left corner of the screen, playing along with the music. After the flourish, Randall takes center stage and introduces the movie, setting a flippantly po-mo tone that HUNTER manages to maintain throughout its running time.
HUNTER has such a simple and durable premise that 'Bewitched' worked it for eight seasons: an adman fears losing his job unless he can land that big contract. In this case, Tony Randall plays the leading nebbish and Jayne Mansfield plays the poor man's Monroe who holds the keys to his success. The jokes come nonstop, and some of them actually manage to be funny.
HUNTER depends on the audience's acceptance of Mansfield as some kind of feminine ideal. I find her to be phenomenally annoying, and her greatest talent appears to be her ability to get upstaged by every player around her, including her dog. That's not all bad, and even works when she's delightfully upstaged in the finale. Nevertheless, this movie feels tissue-paper thin. Of course, that can work in a comedy, and WILL SUCCESS SPOIL ROCK HUNTER? rocked along in its reasonably amusing groove right through to the end. I chuckled a few times, laughed out loud at the climax, and generally felt like I got my money's worth.
HUNTER has such a simple and durable premise that 'Bewitched' worked it for eight seasons: an adman fears losing his job unless he can land that big contract. In this case, Tony Randall plays the leading nebbish and Jayne Mansfield plays the poor man's Monroe who holds the keys to his success. The jokes come nonstop, and some of them actually manage to be funny.
HUNTER depends on the audience's acceptance of Mansfield as some kind of feminine ideal. I find her to be phenomenally annoying, and her greatest talent appears to be her ability to get upstaged by every player around her, including her dog. That's not all bad, and even works when she's delightfully upstaged in the finale. Nevertheless, this movie feels tissue-paper thin. Of course, that can work in a comedy, and WILL SUCCESS SPOIL ROCK HUNTER? rocked along in its reasonably amusing groove right through to the end. I chuckled a few times, laughed out loud at the climax, and generally felt like I got my money's worth.
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