Archive for the ‘ Reviews ’ Category

Scarface (3 of 4)

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My second genre in my study is one of my very favorite. Gangster movies. A brief history before I begin, during the silent era, the gangster film’s growth was seriously stunted by the lack of dialogue. So with the influx of sound there was also a surge of gangster movies. Making this genre an almost exclusively sound age genre. It was simply too difficult to get an audience behind a “bad” character as the hero of the story without being able to hear that persons voice. Once our gangsters could talk they proved to be the most charming baddies imaginable.

1932 presented the world with the fast-talking and ruthless, prohibition gangster Scarface. Scarface or Antonio “Tony” Camonte, played pitch-perfectly by Paul Muni, had a new style of business in the Chicagoland area. And living by a “shoot before they do” mentality he helped his boss Johnny Lovo take over the entire city.

But, quickly his ambitious and violent methods draw attention from the police and his showmanship and brazen (or mindless) courage draw attention from Lovo’s girlfriend Poppy. Tony also has his severe, controlling hand in the life of his younger sister, Francesca. ‘Cesca is 18 years old, in love with Tony’s best friend Guino and completely unaware of her own immaturity.

All three stories come barreling into one another in a terrible night of violence and dancing. After Tony kills Guino in anger over his sister, she betrays him to the cops and heads to his apartment to kill him herself. ‘Cesca’s love for her brother stays her hand and she and Tony enter into one of the most famous standoff shootouts in movie history as they hunker down in a steel encased apartment to open fire on the streets filled with police below. Finally in a last-ditch escape attempt he is gunned down, dying under the neon sign he worshiped. “The World is Yours” flashes over his bullet ridden body as the movie ends.

This is the gangster movie that drew attention to the gangster movies. It opens, as many older films did, with a statement to the audience, saying clearly that the movie is an indictment of gang rule and a challenge of sorts to the audience to do something about it since “the government is your government”. What became of this warning, eventually, was the Hays Office for Censorship and the beginning of strict rules enforced on Hollywood’s gangsters. They were not to be glorified and made into heroes, they should be condemned!

But then a problem arose. See, the gangsters were charming. We liked them. We liked them shooting each other, and robbing banks, and smuggling drugs and alcohol, and especially we liked them doing all of it with cool “wise-guy” attitudes and loads of class. Sure he was a murdering crook, but look at that suit! Nobody cared, they were “just movies”.

But surprisingly censoring the gangsters like Tony out of business, at least until the Hays Office was shutdown actually furthered the progression of the genre. What did Hollywood do when they couldn’t glorify the gangster? Ever heard of a little term called “the bad cop.” We simply put cops undercover and let them do the same things that the gangsters were doing, except because they were technically “good guys” it was acceptable. We still do it today with almost every popular spy and police TV drama. Burn Notice is a good example. Or for purists Internal Affairs (or its remake The Departed) are also good examples.

Scarface is a classic, it defined an era of gangsters and really set the tone for the extreme violence, classy showmanship and subtleties of organized crime films. It also was eight years before the film noir movement (in which hundreds of gangsters films were made) kicked into high gear, meaning it’s style hasn’t been mimicked. There are not many films like Howard Hawks’ Scarface.

Personally, I like the original better than the De Palma’s ’83 remake with Al Pachino. And my reasoning is really quite simple. It’s shorter. 93min vs 170min is a no-brainer for me. Howard Hawks speed in completing the story accentuates the quick-way-up fast-way-out circumstance of Tony. The slow destruction of a bootlegging empire and collapsing of Pachino’s world presented in the ’83 version is simply too slow. Hawks version gives you no time to think, and doesn’t drag on until good actors are giving ham performances. I’d say watch both, but if you only have time for one watch the shorter, older and better time-tested classic. Muni is as cool as Pachino tries to be.

Do you think gangsters make good heroes? Think the remake is better? Think Pachino is a ham? Comment in the side bar!

<——-Over and up.

Tyler



The Social Network (4 of 4)

David Fincher’s new movie based on Ben Mezrach’s book “The Accidental Billionaires” and adapted for the screen by Aaron Sorkin is maybe the best movie I’ve seen this year. I read an article in the paper where Sorkin said that when you watch a movie that says it’s “based on a true story” you should think of that film as a painting rather than a photograph of what happened. Painting or photograph I’m not entirely sure, but The Social Network is definitely excellent.

Mark Zuckerberg, played by Jessie Eisenberg, and Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield) are the creators of a social networking site for Harvard students. In a drunken rage of programming and blogging about fresh ex-girlfriend woes Mark develops the website that will become facebook. His main reason is to compare the girls on campus, he calls it facemash.com and intends only to make people angry. But when the website overloads and crashes the Harvard network the two friends realize they have something bigger than they anticipated in their hands.

Harvard puts Mark on academic probation for overloading the servers and invading privacy, who is then picked up by the Winklevoss brothers who want him to design a website for them. He agrees but behind their backs he makes a plan with his best friend Eduardo. Quickly they form an agreement, 70% is Mark’s (he did the work) 30% is Eduardo’s (he put up the money for servers and start-up). CEO and CFO best friends and business partners. But when (then) thefacebook.com begins expanding to other universities Yale, Columbia, Stanford etc. things change quickly between the friends. And when Eduardo is secretly cut out of his 30% share, a close friendship ends and an enormous 3-way lawsuit for intellectual property begins. Finally ending with the worlds youngest billionaire, the film’s tag-line “You Don’t Get to 500 Million Friends Without Making a Few Enemies” has a resounding force.

The story is emotional, fascinating, invigorating and absolutely non-stop. The opening scene, which I could only describe as a shootout of dialogue between Eisenberg and actress Rooney Mara is worth admission price. My wife and I sat down in the theater and cringed when the hordes of tweens and teens bumbled in to see our movie, spilling popcorn and soda, whooping and howling like they had entered a water park. But after an incredible back-and-forth between two upcoming actors, we knew the theater would quiet down, and it did.

In typical Fincher style the lighting set the tone for his actors to deliver lines with such confidence that it’s hard not to believe them. I finally pieced this together while sitting in The Social Network. The same way I believe Tyler Durden from Fight Club when he says: “It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.” I believe him, even though I know that’s insanity. It’s the lighting. It’s that serious and consistent yellow grain light that fills the screen with this attitude. It’s why Eduardo can say lines like “I like standing next to you, Sean. It makes me look tough.” And everyone in the theater thinks it sounds so cool! Fincher works actors and shows confidence at such perfectly timed moments, that what he delivers in the end is masterful directing. And that’s not to take credit form Garfield’s acting.

Because before I get to what I think the movie means, I want to say that the cast is stupendous. Eisenberg, who I disliked in The Squid and the Whale, started to like in Zombieland, and now think is the best actor his age in Hollywood steals the show. Andrew Garfield, who has been incredible in everything I’ve seen him in (watch Boy-A there’s a good movie) performs like I expected. And even Justin Timberlake is, well he’s bearable, good at moments and unconvincing at others. Maybe having a pop-star play the creator of Napster wasn’t a good idea, it takes me out of the story for sure. But otherwise flawless casting.

I think this movie is good not only for its pacing and acting, but because I think it’s true of people. Even if the film isn’t 100% accurate as the real Zuckerberg has said, I think it says something about money and people and especially friendship. The movie presents Eduardo as Mark’s only friend, that is until Mark becomes infamous. Eduardo who is the plaintiff in one of the lawsuits is actually the better friend. Mark sold his friend for an idea that made him the youngest billionaire in the world. And it has to make you wonder, do you have friends worth a billion dollars?

Facebook, the real facebook, has become the most popular website on the internet. It’s a free service worth 25 billion smackeroonies, but it’s also been the butcher of our culture’s view of friendship. There’s a great moment when Eduardo fights with his girlfriend because his relationship status on the website says single. He confesses to her that he doesn’t even know how to change it, and it’s embarrassing as the CFO to not know how to change it. And it’s silly and the audience laughs, but we are right there. There’s a YouTube video floating around about facebook saying that 1 in 3 women between 18-26 check facebook before they do anything else in the morning.

My generation, is a generation of technology and blogging and YouTube and Facebook and Twitter and on and on, so how do we stay friends in the middle of all of it? It’s hard for me to compress it into a blog post/movie review, so I’ll say watch the film and just feel it. How many of your “facebook friends” are friends? Or are you no better than Zuckerberg, cause they’re just there for notoriety?

My #1 scene (courtesy IMDB):

Facebook Lawyer: Mr. Zuckerberg, do I have your full attention?
Mark Zuckerberg: [stares out the window] No.
Facebook Lawyer: Do you think I deserve it?
Mark Zuckerberg: [looks at the lawyer] What?
Facebook Lawyer: Do you think I deserve your full attention?
Mark Zuckerberg: I had to swear an oath before we began this deposition, and I don’t want to perjure myself, so I have a legal obligation to say no.
Facebook Lawyer: Okay – no. You don’t think I deserve your attention.
Mark Zuckerberg: I think if your clients want to sit on my shoulders and call themselves tall, they have the right to give it a try – but there’s no requirement that I enjoy sitting here listening to people lie. You have part of my attention – you have the minimum amount. The rest of my attention is back at the offices of Facebook, where my colleagues and I are doing things that no one in this room, including and especially your clients, are intellectually or creatively capable of doing.
[pauses]
Mark Zuckerberg: Did I adequately answer your condescending question?

Rosemary’s Baby (4 of 4)

Roman Polanski’s 1968 horror Rosemary’s Baby is the fifth movie in my genre study of horror. Polanski, who desperately wanted to do a skiing film, came on board to do Rosemary’s Baby through William Castle and Paramount, who told him he could do his “ski” film afterward. RB ended up turning into one of Polanski’s greatest career achievements.

Rosemary’s Baby tells the story of a young couple, Rosemary (Mia Farrow) and Guy (John Cassavetes), who are in a relationship going two different directions. Rosemary wants a family, wants children, wants attention from her husband. But Guy is an actor, and being an actor he is “naturally self-absorbed” and cares much more about his career than his wife.

The unassuming pair moves into the apartment next door to an elderly couple, Roman and Minnie. Minnie and Roman are no ordinary senior citizens they are in fact witches. Witches who are looking for blood to use in satanic rituals. Roman becomes fast friends with Guy as they begin to talk about show-biz. Guy is convinced off-screen to join their neighbors’ evil coven and to give them Rosemary as a vessel to birth Satan’s baby! Can you believe this guy (no pun intended)! His wife and baby and soul to Satan in exchange for success in Hollywood, what a dope.

Minnie drugs Rosemary with chocolate mousse and kidnaps her with the entire coven, some 10-20 people all elderly, well, besides Guy. In a half-asleep drug induced coma Satan rapes Rosemary. It’s a graphic scene, much worse for what it implies in the shadows than is actually shown, but grizzly nonetheless. She is impregnated with Satan’s child and begins a terribly painful nine months.

Minnie and Roman and Guy all work together to keep her from seeing or communicating with anyone outside of the coven. Even her obstetrician is part of the coven. The wicked three all go to incredible lengths even casting spells on people outside the coven to keep Rosemary secluded and drugged. When Rosemary gives birth to the devil’s child she is forced to mother it under the supervision of the Satanist witches.

The fear in Rosemary’s Baby comes from two things. One a religious or spiritual aspect, since we are dealing with Satanic worship and the occult, and two from the familiarity of the neighbors and the general peacefulness of the set. RB takes the people and things that we feel we can trust and slowly turns them against the heroine. She can’t trust her husband, she can’t trust her neighbors, she can’t even trust her doctors! Betrayal and deception are huge themes in Rosemary’s Baby to look past them, I think, is to miss the point of the film entirely.  What happens when not some things but everything you have faith in gets undermined?

As a horror film, I didn’t find the film altogether that frightening. It drives almost like a drama for the first hour, and then shifts into a horror/mystery hybrid. Polanski, despite his personal life, is an extremely intelligent director and guided a near perfectly acted and shot movie.

To defend that a little I’ll give two examples. The first being the tight and deliberate framing. The rape scene is actually the best example of the thought and precision put into the film. The angles of the cameras, the close-ups on the blood being painted over her body and of Satan scratching her shoulder are the only thing you leave the scene with clearly. Everything else gets blurred and smeared and color-balanced away from clarity. This is a carefully worked scene.

When she wakes up the next morning with scratches under her arm, you understand it with a satisfaction that poorly directed and written films don’t have.  You realize that what you’ve seen was there for a reason, when it’s brought up again.

The second is the acting. Farrow is unreal, her innocence and spunk at the beginning of the film and the quick and dramatic subversion of her energy and spirit feel authentic. As a man, I can say I’ve never so well sympathized with a pregnant woman. In the last third of the film when she makes an escape and pieces together the clues my heart is in my throat. Farrow is perfect.

Ruth Gordon who plays Minnie is just as good. Rosemary’s door never more than cracked open but Minnie somehow flooded through. Gordon won a well-deserved Supporting Actress Oscar for the role. She is incessant, hospitable and impossible to ignore.

Cassavetes plays overpowering so well it should be studied in acting classes, the feeling his presence in the film generates is tangible through the screen. The easiest way to spot a great villainous performance is to test whether you care where and what that villain is doing when they aren’t on-screen for you to observe. Cassavetes makes you wonder constantly.

Rosemary’s Baby was an extremely enjoyable film to watch. It is perfectly paced (even as a long film, 2 hours 16 min), and it knows its next move way in advance. It is a little dated (I desperately wanted someone to google some answers, in fact an iPhone might make this movie impossible), but it is more than what I anticipated. Certainly my fifth movie was “horrific” in its content but not in its quality.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (2 of 4)

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In 1920s Fritz Lang turned down directing this twisted film, and it was put into the hangs of Robert Wiene (pronounced with a German accent). What it became was an expressionist masterpiece of jagged set pieces and oblique shadows painted on everything in sight. It is a crooked, spatially challenged movie of impossible shapes and constructions. After The Cabinet was released, Expressionism fully adopted the belief that the peak should be larger than the base.

To me The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a perfection collision of what I know is historically great film and what is currently the most boring thing I can remember watching. Cabinet is short, it’s only an hour and ten minutes long, but silent films don’t age the same way as sound films. Even a “movie buff” will likely struggle through this early genre film. But let’s be honest most people watching Cabinet anyway must be movie buffs.

Quickly, the story opens on our hero Francis, who is in the woods with an older man. He begins telling a story from his past. The story is an outlandish flashback that takes up the meat of the entire movie. As Francis explains he was part of an investigation to uncover the murderous intentions of Dr. Caligari, an evil psychiatrist who studied somnambulism (a somnambulist is a person who never awakes). According to Francis, Dr. Caligari enslaves the somnambulist known as Cesare and through some mystical magic is able to control him and force the poor somnambulist to do things that he would find abhorrent if he were awake. Like murder innocent people.

I’ll go ahead and ruin the plot, because it’s historically important and for the sake of this post I must do so. Francis is actually the insane character, and all of his rambling about the “somnambulist” is just part of his imagined and completely crazy world. Francis is revealed as a patient at the psychiatric hospital where Dr. Caligari, or at least the person he believes is Dr. Caligari, is simply a good-natured hospital director.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is an extremely important movie. To the high-class of the 20’s it was a German art film that showcased over-dramatized acting and stylized sets and makeup to create a fantasy world that no one had seen before. It pushed the borders and never let the audience forget it was a movie, everyone knew they were observing “art” (similar to the magical worlds of Méliès’ science fiction silents).

To the public Cabinet was a horror movie complete with one of the very first “monsters” in the form of Cesare the Somnambulist! Shoot, it even had the climactic gimmick that many of the last few decades best and most popular horror films are known for! Think The Sixth Sense, The Descent, or Shutter Island.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is undeniably a door-opening film. It blew the hinges off expectations to make room for monsters like Frankenstein and Dracula in 1931 and even serial psychopath’s like Norman Bates in the 60’s. And most importantly and greatly understated: it set a criterion for horror films with shadows, make-up, melodramatic acting, and thorough hysteria.

Thankfully, however, we have improved past many of the time weakened devices of Cabinet and now our horror films use better ones. Let’s use sound as an example. I like sound. I joke around with friends that I have the wonderful ability to hear in the dark. Out of nowhere I just spit out, “I can hear in the dark.” I do this when I’m reminded of the power of sound. Try to imagine any frightening thing you’ve seen on a screen. Go ahead take a second and think of something scary. Got it? Okay, now eliminate the associated noise.

My point.

I can’t imagine Psycho‘s shower scene without that screeching, or Frankenstein without thunder booming and Colin Clive screaming: “It’s alive!” over the downpour. Even cheap visual scares and jump cuts are heavily audio devices. Watch the trailer for the new movie The Roommate and you’ll hear what I mean.

My crux is this, film has made wonderful advancements so that we don’t have to watch movies like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. We needed it, it got us places, but thank God we got there.

Psycho (4 of 4)

Alfred Hitchcock’s 1960 groundbreaking film Psycho is my third film selection in a genre study of horror. And it is an exceptional movie.

Psycho tells the story of Marion Crane the lover of a man caught in a high-priced annuity with his ex-wife. Marion is tired of meeting her man, Sam, in cheap motels during her hour lunch breaks and with flecks of even cheaper-morality she pleads with him to be married. Sam doesn’t want to be married. He likes the way things are, so he sends her back to the office further frustrated.

Back at work, her boss’s client hands her $40,000 cash to deposited in the bank–flashy and flirtatious payment for a new property. Her mind is reeling with ideas. In a flash of madness she steals the cash and makes off down the highway to the next town to meet Sam and give him the money. But when the sun goes down and the rain starts pouring she is forced off the road and into the parking lot of the Bates Motel. Vacancy. Twelve cabins, twelve vacancies.

Suddenly the 40 minutes of movie you’ve watched is revealed as merely an extended opening scene. Psycho‘s screenwriter, Joseph Stefano, said of the film that “half-way through it changes from being about this beautiful gal, to being about him [Norman]”. And he’s right Norman Bates, played by Anthony Perkins, steals the show.

Norman, after making a sandwich for Marion, begins his rambling explanation of one of the creepiest world-views in film history. Including the hauntingly delivered line: “A boy’s best friend is his mother.” When talking with Norman, Marion realizes the wrong she’s done and how crazy it was to have absconded with $40,000. She decides while back in her room that the forty thousand must be returned and feeling purified she steps into the shower for a scrub.

Norman didn’t leave their conversation with the same purified feeling. See, he liked Marion. He was attracted to her. He wanted her interested in him, but she simply judged him for being trapped by his mother when he realistically could have escaped her control. So while, Marion is showering and deciding to do the right thing with the money, Norman is moving picture frames and watching her undress through a peep-hole.

Marion didn’t realize that her purifying shower would be her last as Norman’s mother, jealous of the attention a new more attractive woman is getting from her son, stalks into the shower with a 12″ blade (and musical accompaniment)  to murder her in perhaps the entire genre’s most famous scene (and sound effects). 

The next hour of the film follows Sam, Marion’s sister Lila and a private detective named Arbogast as they try to solve the disappearance of Marion. Arbogast is killed along the way and that sets Sam and Lila off to the motel to see for themselves “what’s going on out there.” Sam and Lila sneak around the motel and it’s grounds uncovering clues and solving the mystery of Marion’s murder and the psychotic world of Norman Bates and his mother.

This is such a wonderful film that I hate to spoil the ending for anyone who hasn’t seen it. So my synopsis will skip and end. If you haven’t seen Psycho, it really is an incredible movie and a must see. Frightening in a few scenes, but leaning toward what we would consider pure thriller more than “horror” as understood in the new millennium.

But there is still plenty to talk about. Psycho did great things cinematically and simultaneously had horrendous repercussions on culture through Hollywood–let me explain. Horror must come from one of two places, the external (monsters and aliens etcetera) or the internal (psychopathy). Psycho is the first masterpiece combination of these two devices. What we have is a murderer (external) and a raving-maniac (internal). This is scary because the external the “monster” side of Norman is hidden by an exterior that is not only normal but physically appealing. We aren’t able to pinpoint the deformity or paranormal or extraterrestrial aspects of the external fear. This was a wonderful thing for a film in the hands of genius director. But…

What it led to is a film-making world that simply saw an opening for further depravity. We no longer needed monsters or aliens or mutated beasts to scare us. We simply needed an excuse. And a madman would work just fine.

Psycho also instilled in cinematographers and directors a first-person perspective for their murderers. We are put “behind the knife” if you will in Psycho‘s killings. I think it’s also important to note that this first-person violence of horror films (nearly solidified by the end of the 1960’s) has been almost completely focused on women, and continues in the same trend of today’s common horror flicks. Horror from the 80’s on is commonly known as the most sexually explicit genre (outside of porn, which I won’t ever be reviewing). It’s such an overused device today that even spoofs will give screen time to the hot-girl getting chased/stabbed/raped or otherwise being horrified or maltreated. Think House of Wax or Jennifer’s Body for more serious, recent horror and Young Frankenstein and The Rocky Horror Picture Show for spoofs. What does this say about our culture or it’s devolution? Hitchcock worked endlessly and even argued with cinematographer and screenwriter to keep nudity out of the film. It was careful camera placement and carefully directed movements that made Psycho what it was. Horror of today uses that same nudity as it’s selling point and then kills the character’s in more violent and disturbed ways for its shock value. The sex-violence intermingling of the horror genre has been steadily growing since the 1920’s.

There is an undeniable connection between Psycho and the slasher films of the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s and 00’s. Movies like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, American Psycho, Friday the 13th, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street and all the sequels they produced. Movies where the monsters tend to be more like perverted killers and less “monstrous”.

The sexual aspect of Norman Bates character in regard to the the history of the genre is important. If we think back about classical horror monsters, like Dracula, we see a sexual appetite connected to their destruction. The same is true of Norman Bates. Before the murders he wants to flirt with and spy on his female victims. The mother side of the murders comes from a jealously of those victims. It’s sick and twisted and horrible I know, but the genre is called horror is it not?

Psycho is a masterful thriller and mystery. It’s villain–iconic. It’s director–legendary. It’s writing–near flawless. It’s precision–endless. But don’t forget that even artful depiction of the macabre is still macabre.

I feel like this could open up some discussion so please feel free to comment. (Even if this post is old at time of reading!)

–Tyler