The Leopard

In The Leopard, Burt Lancaster delivers perhaps a career-best performance as Prince Don Fabrizio Salina, a giant among the Sicilian nobility of the 1860s.  The world is changing around the prince, who adapts as best he can.  But that’s not interesting.  What’s interesting is how the Salina adapts to not just the greater world of 1860s Italy, but to his realization that his moment, and the moment of all he holds dear, is passing.  It’s beautiful and powerful and some stuff even blows up.  I don’t know what more you could want in a movie.

Prince Salina bears the mantle of his great house, rules his corner of the island, and arranges the lives of his family to ensure the survival of his legacy.  This isn’t easy, as the island boils with revolution and capitalism challenges feudalism in all the ways that matter.  When the most promising member of the next generation (who isn’t a direct descendant) falls in love with a rich but common girl of the town, how can the Prince both adapt today and make way for tomorrow?

He can do so with vigor, style, and a take-charge intelligence that Lancaster conveys with absolute authority. Alain Delon plays the scion and Claudia Cardinale the commoner, and one finds it difficult to imagine a fitter actor to play their better, their mentor, and (in a sense) their rival.  You’ll see this film and it’ll dazzle you with its costumes and sets and scenery and, well, Sicilian – ness, but you’ll take away Lancaster as the The Leopard, perhaps the last feudal lord in Europe.  He’s a little frustrated, a little sad, a little resigned, but he’s nowhere near out of tricks and he’ll amaze and impress you.

If you think of Burt Lancaster only as “the guy from those old pirate movies,” think again.  Watch this film and stand by to be impressed.

PS  In a nifty little coincidence, I’m posting this from the balcony of a hotel room in Sicily, where cool breezes blow across the cedars and the blood oranges hang ripely in the trees.  This is a magnificent island.

Local Hero

In his review of LOCAL HERO, Roger Ebert writes, "Nothing is more absorbing than human personalities, developed with love and humor." Mr. Ebert is absolutely right, and LOCAL HERO delivers this with just the right mixture of wisdom and generosity.

LOCAL HERO is the sweet, almost whimsical tale of a young oil company negotiator, the seaside Scottish village he's sent to buy, and the love affair between them. I went in half dreading an anti-industrialization screed, but LOCAL HERO knows what it's about far too well to fall into such a simple and obvious trap. Instead, the film uses its running time to create a sense of people and place, allowing us to observe them and it as the negotiator (Peter Riegert, in a role that makes me wonder whatever happened to Peter Riegert) falls in with the village's rhythms. It's a comedy, but not of the knee slapping variety. It seeks to share a smile with us as we cluck over the people we love, and it seeks to make us feel at home in a place we've never been.

There's nothing in LOCAL HERO for my inner adolescent, but my inner adolescent is in time out after leading me into RUSH HOUR 3. LOCAL HERO is the perfect antidote to that inanity: a charming, thoughtful, observant picture about human personalities, developed with love and humor. As Mr. Ebert says, nothing is more absorbing.

Birdman of Alcatraz

In Birdman of Alcatraz (1962), Burt Lancaster plays a hard man, a remorseless killer, who slowly finds his way to humanity. It's an excellent film about redemption and dignity, and it showcases some great performances, but that's not what I want to talk about.

Its central theme is a celebration of the rugged individual, and the importance of staying true to onesself in the face of pressure to conform. It shares this theme with The Great Escape (1963), Cool Hand Luke (1967), and Easy Rider (1969). My thumbnail analysis leads me see these films as an adaptation of the classic rugged individualistic formula for the post-Eisenhower era, precursors and, ultimately, embodiments of the countercultural movement that swept the nation in the late '60s.

OK, so sometimes I have to release my inner English major. Regardless, BIRD MAN OF ALCATRAZ is thought provoking stuff and well worth the time.