Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan

STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN is a ripping good sea yarn.

All the hands are here, in new, visually striking uniforms and a new interior of USS ENTERPRISE that looks more like a warship than it did in STAR TREK: THE ONE WITH THE BALD CHICK. We kick off a nice little subplot about aging and coming to grips with the passage of time, and then we’re off to the main show: Ricardo Montalban as Khan the Villain has been marooned by Kirk on a desert planet with limited food, but a kickass gym and a Vidal Sassoon franchise. Now he’s free, and he’s out for blood.

I know. “Yawn, another villain out for blood. We’ve seen this before.” Yes, but this is Ricardo Montalban, and he demonstrates why this type of character, when done right, has propelled film after film after film. He’s dangerous, charismatic, and just plain fun, and watching him try to outwit the Kirk/Spock team is treat.

Note that I wrote “outwit,” not “outfight.” STAR TREK II, like any good sea yarn, doesn’t culminate in a fistfight. Rather, its climax is one of dueling captains and crews trying to outmaneuver one another. Layer on the contrast between the leadership styles of hero and villain, and you have the delicious tension of watching hulls come about and wondering who’ll be first to bring his guns to bear. Oh man, this is so much more interesting than just another hand-to-hand stuntfest. Having seen the film before, I knew what was going to happen; yet it still put me on the edge of my seat.

I almost wish, however, that this film hadn’t been so successful. After retreading the “opposing captain out for revenge” angle in III, VI, NEMESIS, and the reboot, this franchise could stand to step away from II’s example. It’s not like they were ever going to top it, anyway.

Flame and Citron

1944.  The Nazis occupy Denmark and the Resistance grows fractured and weary.  The Allies will come eventually, but when?  And who will arrive first, the Russians or the Americans?

Welcome to the world of FLAME AND CITRON.  The film, based upon the lives of Danish national heroes Flamme and Citronen, begins in the dark days of the war, then gets darker.  Flamme and Citronen, an assassination team, have made a name for themselves by targeting Danish collaborators.  But when the word comes down to start going after Germans, the duo go from just another thorn in the Gestapo’s side to Enemy #1.

This film works simultaneously as a spy thriller, a study of the effect of killing on the human soul, and a showcase for some of the most beautiful cinematography I’ve seen in some time.

As a spy thriller, FLAME AND CITRON covers all the bases.  It has double and triple agents, mysterious meetings in dark niches, and levels of intrigue among different levels of an already shady command structure.  It has shootouts, close escapes, and the paranoia that comes with resistance.  And no one knows how things will turn out, because this is a true story.

While the spy thriller aspect of the film moves things along, FLAME AND CITRON also works as a character study.  What kind of man shoots people in the head during the day, then goes home and sleeps at night?  Are some men born that way?  Can others train themselves to it?  And what kinds of men pull the strings of the trigger pullers?  Can they be trusted to wield their power responsibly?  What if they can’t?

So we have a good story, one with some meat on it.  FLAME AND CITRON presents the story wonderfully well, with outstanding cinematography by Jørgen Johansson.  The film cost $10M, but it looks much more expensive than that.  Though a combination of cleverly set up shots and seamless location and matte work, this film puts us right into wartime Copenhagen.  It’s gorgeous.

Simply put, FLAME AND CITRONEN works in every way.  I’m glad I saw it.

Revanche

“Your problem,” says the pimp to the thug, “is that you’re soft.  You try to act tough, but people see right through you.”

Maybe that’s not a bad thing.

In REVANCHE, the thug loves the hooker.  The hooker works for the pimp, who is not soft.  The thug and the hooker plan to escape, but can they?  Is the thug tough?  Must he be?  And what of the aftermath?

This sounds like the premise for a thriller, but REVANCHE goes in a different direction.  Rather than twists, turns, and tension, REVANCHE offers us character.  It considers these people, cares about them, takes the time to tell their stories. 

Here’s a keen exploration of love, bravado, and unintended consequences.  By the time the credits roll, you’ll the know the people of REVANCHE not as The Thug and  The Hooker, but as Alex and Tamara.  You’ll think not only of the journeys they’ve taken, but of journeys still ahead.  And you’ll think about yourself, about your supposed weaknesses and your supposed strengths.  You’ll wonder if they are what you think, or if you’ve (perhaps) misjudged yourself.

REVANCHE is that kind of film: the kind that rewards thought.  In fact, the more I think about it, the more I like it.  Given time, it could become one of the best pictures I see this year.

7th Heaven

My good friend Chris Dashiell turned me on to 7th HEAVEN.  He absolutely nails his review, so I bring it to you here (with his permission).

In Paris, an orphaned waif named Diane (Janet Gaynor) is whipped and almost murdered by her vicious sister (Gladys Brockwell) after Diane is too honest about their dissolute life with an aunt and uncle Nana tries to fool for money. The girl’s life is saved by Chico (Charles Farrell), a sewer worker embittered against God for his bad luck. When the police come to take Diane away on Nana’s instigation, Chico claims that they are married in order to protect her. They must keep up this pretense for awhile, so Diane moves into Chico’s little flat on the seventh floor of a tenement. He is a bit insensitive, and a braggart too, but their arrangement gradually turns into love. Then the advent of World War forces them apart.

The story, based on a play by Austin Strong, is extreme melodrama, and in less talented hands it could have been pure schmaltz, but Borzage knew how to combine passion with a kind of ethereal spirituality, and this is reflected in the film’s look, especially the lighting and camera movement. The nighttime sequences, and the action in the little attic and on the rooftops, seem almost lit from within, as if suffused with romantic memories. The crane shots with the lovers running up to the seventh floor, the overhead shots of Paris, Gaynor walking across a plank through the window in a wedding dress, Farrell holding her up in the air when he declares his love, a ray of light falling on the couple—the picture is filled with such beauty, like an intoxicating and sometimes feverish dream.

The plot becomes more outlandish during the separation of the lovers by war. The villainous sister returns, and then the tragedies pile up. Meanwhile, Diane and Chico are shown to have a supernatural connection with one another. They communicate across time and space. We have grown out of these kinds of dramatic devices, but with Borzage we willingly suspend disbelief most of the time. What I find most interesting is that this elevated notion of love is at the same time grounded in the life of Paris and in relationships with friends. Spiritual love, for Borzage, does not retreat from the world, but transfigures it.

The 20-year-old Gaynor is luminous. This was the big year in which she also starred in Sunrise, and won the Best Actress award for Seventh Heaven and Street Angel. She has great chemistry with Farrell, and after Seventh Heaven became a smash hit they were paired together eleven more times. The movie has finally been released by Fox in an excellent print as part of a Borzage box set.