 They need another movie Director: James Mangold
Writer: Jez Butterworth, John-Henry Butterworth, and Jason Keller Cinematographer: Phedon Papamichael Producer: Peter Chernin, Jenno Topping, and James Mangold by Jon Cvack When Ford v Ferrari ended I was left nostalgic. The movie reminded me of the types of action and action-dramas I watched growing up - Apollo 13 (1995), Gone in Sixty Seconds (2000), fragments of Con Air (1997); the type of movie that took place within the realm of reality and not about blowing up as much shit as possible and puking out the most extravagant visual effects pieces possible (climax of Con Ari not withstanding). They’re all relatively small stories. Space capsules, cars driving around the city, a plane, a prison, and yet they all felt gigantic. In an interview during its screening at TIFF, James Mangold mentioned that in addition to the obvious, the story was about the creative process. There are the suits who represent the money given to a creative team to create a product and win a top prize. It’s not a stretch to say that this is one of the best movies I’ve seen about the process of making movies. The story involves the 1966 Le Man held yearly in France in which a team of drivers sponsored by the leading sports car manufacturers raced their designs for 24 hours straight. At this point in the story, Ferrari has won the previous three or four and back in the states, Ford Motor Company, led by Henry Ford II (Tracy Letts), is introduced years earlier by shutting down the assembly line and chastising his workers for failing to give enough passion. Vice President Lee Iacocca (Jon Bernthal) knows it’s because rather than attempting to create a sexy product competitive with burgeoning European sports cars, Ford has continued with bland and cheap designs that cater to the masses. Iacocca gives a presentation showing James Bond and his Aston Martin, explaining that the GI’s who’ve come home have gotten homes and found success and now want to spend their money on better toys. Ford and his worm-tongue sycophant executive Leo Beebe (Josh Lucas) laugh off the idea, refusing to sell by cars by using sex or power. Iacocca doesn’t back down. Ferrari has captured the world’s imagination. Again, they laugh, explaining that Ford spends as much on toilet paper as Ferrari spends on their entire fleet. Iacocca then tells them about their losses to Ferrari in the last few years of Le Man which captures Ford II’s attention. Having worked in production start ups for the last ten years I struggle to think of a better film that catches the condescending and pompous conservatism of business people. There’s an old phrase out in entertainment - to paraphrase, the easiest way to retain a job is to say no to big change or risky endeavors. When it comes to film - sequels, prequels, remakes, and bottomless franchises have dominated the space. As rogerebert.com’s Glenn Kelly says, “...a movie like ‘Ford v Ferrari’ would be a staple of studio fare. Nowadays, it’s actually considered a risk, despite being, by an older standard, about as mainstream as mainstream gets. ‘Ford v Ferrari’ delivers real cinema meat and potatoes. And its motor show spectacle deserves to be seen in a theater.” It all connects back to cinema. Ford could be seen as any of the major studios continuing to lean into franchises, averse to taking any type of risk. Then again the risk is actually high, as the number of original films within the same category which have failed is enough to make anyone cautious. Perhaps it’s not that studios are so risk-averse so much as waiting for the proper director to make it happen; such as Mangold did with Logan (creating one of the handful of MCU movies I enjoyed). It’s a demonstration of trust and it’s what makes Henry Ford II such an interesting character; he wants the profits but he also wants the respect and accolades. Just like any great studio head. Ford rejects the race, but instructs Iacocca to visit Italy and make Enzo Ferrari (Remo Girone) an offer to buy the company. Scuderia i surrounded by his own obsequious executives, one who secretly calls Fiat who counters with a far greater offer to buy Ferarri out. It was a con; Ferrari used Ford to up the bid. Humiliated, Ford agrees to race and win the Le Man, no matter the cost. Around all this, we meet Ken Miles (Christian Bale) as the sharp witted and irascible mechanic and race car driver with an endearing and beautiful wife Mollie (Caitriona Balfe) and equally charming kid Peter (Noah Jupe). He’s underwater with the IRS who soon swoop in and foreclose his business. I’m fairly certain this whole story was apocryphal, as it had that taste of a demand for extra stakes. It’s more interesting for Ken to race in order to provide for his family than just deciding to ignore his own safety. It’s also that type of scene that works in this type of film. If the point is to tell a great action-packed drama, then embellishing these details are for the greater good. Iacocca recruits Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) to build out the race car, who in a uniquely Matt Damon kind of monologue in which we’re not sure if he’s serious or bullshitting the other characters, he talks about how difficult it is to build a car and complete the race, let alone safely. Iacocca offers him a blank check and Matt Damon immediately hires Ken as the driver. There is a great majesty to how Mangold films these scenes, where even the smallest dialogue scenes feel large and part of a massive and exciting world. The colors are vibrant, of teals, whites, and salmons, often against a desert backdrop. The pace is fast, as when you see the movie is two and a half hours long, you wonder if it could maintain the story. Yet it immerses you within a tale of sport, business, mechanics, and philosophy where each scene rips you through the ideas. Arriving at a Ford event to kick off the challenge, Ken and his son find the newest mustang model as the public pines over it. Peter opens the door and checks inside and Leo Bebee demands he back up from the car, pissing off Ken who - not knowing the man - proceeds to state precisely why Mustang’s are just pretty ornaments disguising mediocre performance; a point I recall wondering about in the documentary A Faster Horse (2015); part history and part reality show as we watch Ford engineer’s design the next year’s Mustang model. One of the most fascinating moments is when all of the department heads get together in order to discuss how much power they can squeeze out of a small budget; again, comparable to a film production in attempting to create as good of product as they can within their limitations. Leo’s fractured ego demands he vindicate himself. After Ken demonstrates his skill, Leo takes Shelby aside, explaining that he needs to replace him, explaining that Ken doesn’t fit the image of Ford; that is, tall, built, charming, and American. Being the night before the race, Leo breaks the news. Crushed, Ken accepts like a gentleman, working in the garage throughout the next 24 hours, listening to the race on the radio. Ford loses big, and although it was Leo Bebee’s call he continues to move up the chain. In the film's best non-action scene, Shelby meets at Ford’s office, hanging outside and watching the team of his secretaries answering phones, responding to messages, and exchanging a red folder, soon ending up with Leo Bebee’s hands who leads him into the meeting where Bebee hands over the folder to Ford who wants to know why he shouldn't fire Shelby. In another incredible Damon monologue - this time fully authentic - Shelby explains how he watched the red folder exchange hands, assuming over twenty people probably touched it, each lending their thoughts and opinions until everyone can agree on what’s appropriate to present to Ford; a watered down mess of data that essentially boils down to minor changes and the status quo. Although I can’t find the specific quote, I believe he says “You can’t win a race by committee”; again, a shout out to the infamous problem of Art by Committee which plagues entertainment. BELOW: A movie where everything goes back to sex Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
0 Comments
 One of noir's greatest villains - Richard Widmark Director: Henry Hathaway Writer: Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer Cinematographer: Norbert Brodine Producer: Fred Kohlmar by Jon Cvack The more time wears on and memes deconstruct every piece of popular art in lightning speed, the more fascinated I become with film noir; a movement that didn’t even seem aware of itself until years later. The common trope being the hard boiled detective in his office when a drop dead gorgeous woman enters, asking for some help; a trope that, while common enough in neo-noir and beyond, isn’t found too often beyond the Chandler and Hammond adaptations. In college the debate was whether film noir was a genre or movement, given how many other genres it crossed into. When someone refers to a film noir, however modern, most cinephiles will know exactly what to expect. In that case, it’s a genre. In terms of the classic era, when the stories had no specific angle or parameters, it reflected a collective post-WWII ideology; of a generation coming home to alleged perfection after gross amounts of destruction. Also shot on location in New York City like Call Northside 777 (1948), Kiss of Death opens up at heist, in which a trio led by Nick Biano (Victor Mature) attempt to rob a jewelry store a dozen or so floors up in a skyscraper. They arrive, get the gems, and leave when the clerk trips the alarm. In a thrilling scene, they board the elevator and head down, stopping at each floor until they arrive at the ground level, hearing the cops and the crowd dispersing. Nick makes his way through the post office, thinking he’s in the clear and heading out into the actual New York streets where the police open fire, catching him in the leg and he’s apprehended. Nick’s visited by the Assistant District Attorney Louis D’Angelo (Brian Donlevy) who offers Nick a lighter sentence in exchange for turning over his accomplices and the boss that hired them. Nick’s visited by the syndicate’s attorney Earl Howser (Taylor Holmes) who advises him to be quiet and his wife and daughters will be taken care of. If not, who knows what might happen. Nick agrees and three years into his term he receives word that his wife has committed suicide; later learning she was raped by the a man named Pete Rizzo. Enraged, Nick gets in touch with D’Angelo who doubts Nick’s testimony is any longer reliable with the news. Howser gets in touch with Nick who explains the situation and Howser hires one of the greatest criminals in film noir history, Tommy Udo (Richard Widmark). Widmark would go on to receive an Oscar nomination for his portrayal of a young and completely unhinged murderer; the type of generic sounding character that only the rare actor can pull off. Udo agrees to take out Rizzo, and in one of the most terrifying murders I recall seeing from the entire period, he finds Pete Rizzo’s mother alone in her apartment, unsure where her son is. Udo then ties her into her chair, wheels her out into the hallways and tosses her down the stairs; shown in a long wide over the shoulder angle where an actual wheelchair is tossed down the stairs, obscuring the mother’s face. It’s a brilliant use of cinema, up there in shock value with the bird’s eye murder from Pyscho (1960); conveying just how psychotic Tommy Udo actually is. After Nick spills the beans, D’Angelo releases him on parole. Nick ends up at Nettie’s to find he’s still doing work for D’Angelo. He soon meets up with Tommy at a club who admits to the murder, and just as things seem all good and D’Angelo releases Nick who ends finding and job and getting his girls back. Things seem to look on the up and up until D’Angelo indicts Tommy and the city demands Nick testify. Knowing it’d likely mean his death, he still takes the stand. But after going after the jury, Tommy is released. Nick, Nettie, and the girls head out to the country to seek refuge, though Udo hunts them down. Cornering Nick, Udo demands Nick go with him on the next hit or be killed. Nick agrees and manages to tell D'Angelo about the job, but he’s reluctant to move on the recently freed man. Nick tells D’Angelo his location and to look out for Udo’s silver plated pistol. D’Angelo agrees Reading Pauline Kael’s "5001 Nights at the Movies" (1982), she called the film a melodrama and nails exactly the type of noir this is. When considered and broken down, the plot is fairly sensational and packed with emotion. Place within the film noirs confines, it’s a unique discovery from the movement. To think that Richard Widmark received an Oscar nomination just goes to show how far Hathaway pushed his characters. No matter how ridiculous the plot gets, all of the leading characters are so good that they pull it back to raw grit; honoring the inevitable doomed fate found in noir’s greatest titles. It’s one of the more thrilling conclusions I recall. BELOW: A movie where everything goes back to sex Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Wish these two did more together Director: Robert Wise
Writer: John Gay; Run Silent, Run Deep (1955) novel by Edward L. Beach, Jr. Cinematographer: Russell Harlan Producer: Harold Hecht by Jon Cvack I mentioned my love for the submarine subgenre in my thoughts on The Hunt for Red October (1990) and Crimson Tide (1995) - two great films that have yet to be topped in over twenty years. Das Boot (1981) is the masterpiece and The Enemy Below (1957) is unappreciated. U-571 (2000) is the younger brother to all of them; serving as that rare movie experience where the sound design is worth the viewing, and after a decade, has aged particularly well with some surprising faces. It’s the film most similar to Run Silent, Run Deep, involving an American submarine crew led by Commander P.J. Richardson (Clark Gable) who’s determined to destroy the Japanese destroyer “Bungo Pete” whose sunk four of his submarines in the Bungo Straits. Richardson demands submarine command be led by an Executive Officer straight from active sea patrol. In other words, Richardson is willing to leave his cozy office in order to get revenge via submarine. The premise is perfect in brevity. Richardson meets the Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Jim Bledsoe (Burt Lancaster), who while admiring Richardson's record, is annoyed and offended by the move; evidently with his eyes on command. Richardson leans on Bledsoe to whip the crew into shape, specifically by its ability to dive and raise periscope to fire within thirty seconds, no matter how many times they have to try. My favorite aspect of submarine stories is that, if done well, you get to see the division of labor. We see the mechanics, missile control, the radio men, cooks, and engineers all working together in order to accomplish the mission and stay alive. They take us throughout the ship where we learn the geography and how they do what they do. We witness the bonds they share which makes any great war movie part family film. Although Richrdson’s superiors banned him from the Bungo Straits, he ignores the order and shocks his crew when he avoids taking out an enemy cruiser in order to enter. They arrive in a long convoy where they find Bungo Pete. They take out a destroyer and attempt to hit Bungo Pete, but enemy fighter planes swoop in, followed by another ship dumping depth charges. It’s a scene that could be just as thrilling today; containing all of the elements that provide a great submarine movie - the Captain waiting to get the enemy in sight; hearing the torpedoes as they close in and narrowly miss; and most surprising, the classic silence while depth charges drop, rumbling the entire ship, or in Run Silent, Run Deep’s case, killing three. Going even further, they stuff the dead bodies into the launch tubes as a decoy. Richardson is knocked unconscious during the counter attack and led to the infirmary. Recently I wrote in The Misfits (1961) that Gable would die later that year from his alcoholism. While not nearly as haggard in this film, Gable still shows signs of decay. There’s a madness to the role that feels far more personal than you’d find in an action movie. Believing he can recover, the crew assembles privately, inviting in Bledsoe and requesting that he take over as commander. Reluctant and enraged, he later capitulates and explains that Richardson is done. There’s a great mythological quality about the movie; of a former cocky Knight who wishes to return to the Dark Forest and fight the kingdom’s enemies. It’s this classic plot that allows the filmmakers to focus on the action and characters while providing just enough juice to keep the story flowing forward. It is a film about individual moments, in which each scene matches or outdoes the previous, building and building until the ride comes to an end. BELOW: A movie where everything goes back to sex Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The technology just wasn't there to pull off playing drums with a scarf Director: Zhang Yimou Writer: Li Feng, Peter Wu, Wang Bin, and Zhang Yimou Cinematographer: Zhao Xiaoding Producer: William Kong and Zhang Yimou by Jon Cvack This is the first action film I’ve seen since getting into Yimou Zhang as the art house Chinese filmmaker who made Raise the Red Lantern (1991), Coming Home (2014), Not One Less (1999) and about a half dozen other acclaimed movies. He’s also made Hero (2002 with Jet Li), The Great Wall (2016) with Matt Damon, and a movie I had never even heard of with Christian Bale called The Flowers of War (2011). It might be the greatest example of the “one for you, one for me” filmmaking philosophy. I had always thought House of Flying Daggers exploded in America, but in fact it was Hero which was made two years prior and made over $175 million from its $31 million budget. House of Flying Daggers followed it up, offering that unique 00s vibe of special effects that looked pretty good at the time, now in dire need of remastering. Remembering nothing about Hero and therefore only having his beautiful dramas in my mind, I figured that it’d at least be a gorgeous movie to look at. And it is. But damn do the effects bring it down. The film opens by explaining that as the oppressive Tang Dynasty fades, various factions have risen up in revolt, including the House of Flying Daggers. Later, we meet a blind dancer Mei (Zhang Ziyi) who’s been captured by police who suspect she’s connected to the organization. The set looks fake, the colors feel empty, and I got that immediate sense of alarm; made all the worse when somehow the situation leads to the blind girl being surrounded by drums and the judge or policeman says she has to recreate the sounds of dried beans hitting the instruments where she’ll then use her scarves to somehow recreate the sounds. The beans look fake, the scarves look fake, the slow motion looks tacky, and I knew I was watching a film from an era not quite able to pull off the effect; the way it’s hard to watch Futureworld (1976) and how much it leans into the 70s. This is made using the nascent technology from the age which would progress and look exponentially better in less than 20 years. The story moves on from there with reversals and deaths, but ultimately it’s all about the fights - featuring everything from a sequence in a bamboo field that was pretty cool, in which using the whistling sound the plants would make when soaring through the air, along with the pliability of the stalks, Yimou made a mostly believable sequence as a few of the characters are chased down. The final scene is a bit more difficult to swallow, involving this hyper stylized knife throwing throughout the rest of the film that simply doesn’t look good; by now closer to a video game than reality. Knives are tossed back and forth and slow motion shots dominate the sequence. The final stand off in the snow has its moments, but is mostly forgettable. Writing this a little over a week later, there were few other scenes that stand out. The thing is, very few films from this era have aged well. Even Lord of the Rings (2001 - 2003) needs a major remastering of about 25% of its material. It’s an interesting era in allowing us to anticipate where it was all going to go, but the film’s themselves are now becoming museum pieces. Perhaps one day they’ll take on the vintage feel of a Universal classic horror or 50s monster movie. Then again, these are also some of the first films sharing a comparable experience with video games, where it seems like these sequences could have found a better home. I might try out Hero one day in the future. If not, I’m completely satisfied with his dramas. If anything it makes me wonder why he can’t find a better balance between the two, as I’m entirely confident Yimou would create a modern Ran (1985), if given the proper opportunity. As is, it seems best to stick with his smaller stories that contain enough heart to battle and win against any epic. BELOW: A scene that works with the available tech Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Highly recommend watching Taikia Waititi on talk shows, awkwardly describing the plot Director: Taika Waititi Writer: Taika Waititi; based on Caging Skies by Christine Leunens Cinematographer: Mihai Mălaimare Jr. Producer: Carthew Neal, Taika Waititi, Chelsea Winstanley by Jon Cvack I’m confident that Nazi films will be around forever. In an acting class, I once said I was fascinated by Nazis, failing to clarify what I meant before making that statement. Hannah Arendt’s The Origins of Totalitarianism (1973) and Richard Evans’ Third Reich Trilogy (2003-2008) are two of the most terrifying books that I’ve ever read in my life. To learn how a regime came to power by using a combination of racism, nationalism, and the system itself to rise to power and attempt to destroy entire groups of people. There’s a quote I keep seeing on Facebook about how the rise of fascism is due to a breakdown in thirds - a third supports, a third opposes, and the final third watches as it shifts, failing to see the significance. I no longer feel all that embarrassed to compare to Trump to the rise of fascism. Of course he’s not a brutal dictator, but he is showing how a more politically subtle and calculating figure could rise to power by using our system. Yes both sides pack the courts with their own ideology, but the right wing Federalist Society has a very conservative position on most issues and there’s nothing comparable in power to that. Every single Supreme Court Justice appointed by a Republican has come from the Federalist Society. Currently, there’s a case before the conservative court about the government’s ability to regulate the environment. The more conservative justices, the likelier it is that far right positions could be made precedent and prevent congress from enacting any form of law. Combine that with a court that has made both liberal and conservative presidential power stronger, and it could lead to a disproportionate dynamic between branches. However unlikely, it’s not impossible to imagine and it’s what makes the rise of the Third Reich all the more alarming. It is about one third that tried to fight and make a difference while the other third ignored them - hiding themselves or others in closets and abandoned streets, hoping to avoid detection, unsure when it would ever end. JoJo (Roman Griffin Davis) is a member of the Hitler Youth. He’s a klutzy kid, though hopes to be a great Nazi soldier. He’s encouraged by his imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler (Taika Waititi) who’s straight from The Office but somehow not distracting. JoJo’s cared for by his mom Rosie (Scarlett Johansson) who’s the type of mom-as-friend that sticks its claws into your heart. They’ve lost contact with JoJo’s father who was last head at the Italian front, now left alone with each other. Taking place in the heart of Berlin, they’re relatively safe compared to the rest of Europe, assisted with JoJo’s indoctrinated insight toward Germany’s campaign. At camp, JoJo meets his drill instructor Captain Klenzendorf (Sam Rockwell) who’s a famous soldier who lost an eye in battle, now training Hitler’s future soldiers. It all felt so odd at first, as I wasn’t sure if the movie was a satire of Nazi Germany, or attempting to make odd comedy out of a horrible moment in history. Then during a grenade experiment, as the boys throw potato mashers into a field and JoJo runs off through the woods, straight toward the grenade which explode and the film shits into a disturbing sequence demonstrating JoJo was severely fucked up and it’s not at all some cartoon or satire, at least not entirely. It’s comparable to The Death of Stalin combined with a Wes Anderson style, told entirely from a child’s perspective. Waititi opted for an unfamiliar though historically accurate rendition of Germany; abandoning the common pale blues, grays, and browns and instead embracing vibrant yellows, greens, blues, and reds; creating a bizarre world which felt welcoming while simultaneously orchestrating mass death. At first it doesn’t work, feeling like what some feared in keeping the content too loose, and then, once he discovers the Jewish girl in the closet, Elsa Korr (Thomasin McKenzie), it all comes together. The Last Metro (1980), Schindler’s List (1993), and Life is Beautiful (1997) all contain some rendition of this story. It is the ultimate horror of characters gambling with capture and certain brutal death; an idea so far from America that we as a culture fail to comprehend the dynamic. For as much as the country was founded on slavery and destruction of Native Americans, white Americans themselves have never dealt with such levels of government terrorism and uncertainty. It makes Rosie’s performance all the stronger, in realizing that her attitude is all a facade, and that in fact she’s willing to fight to the death to bring down the Nazis. Leading up to one of the most cinematically heart-breaking scenes, Waititi provides intimate moments between JoJo and his mother, often with JoJo sitting down in close up, leaving the left or right frame empty, and in close up we see Rosie’s red shoes feet dance into frame. Somewhere between that, Rosie and JoJo come across a public hanging of local members of the resistance. Later, JoJo finds his mother leaving subversive paper messages around town; realizing that his mother is both protecting his alleged enemy, and attempting to overthrow his philosophy. The Gestapo soon end up at their house where Inge appears, pretending to be JoJo’s dead sister in order to prevent them from finding his mom. Captain Klenzendorf soon enters and they ask for Inge’s passport, leading Elsa to Inge’s old desk, digging through and we’re left wondering the chances of escape. She removes the passport and Klenzendorf checks it, asking for Inge’s birthday, Elsa responds, seemingly correct and Klenzendorf leads the Gestapo out. Moments later, Elsa looks at the papers again and discovers she was a few days off. Later, JoJo walks through the town square alone, his head down, dejected and like the previous scene his mother’s shoes enter the squeeze; except instead of dancing, they’re still and without seeing the gallows, we understand. I can’t recall such an audible realization in the theater. It was cinema at its finest. An example of what the medium provides and where it can take you. Somehow placing you within the child’s mind and then pulling you beyond it. I’ve never heard so many people cry for so long. In a flash, I was left recalling that just an hour or so before I was wondering if the film was just some over the top crude comedy attempting to make light of Nazis. The choice seems deliberate, immersing you into a child’s perspective, using design, performance, and light and color to provide the hope and distraction before shocking us with this moment of realism. From my recollection, beyond the red - blood red - shoes, it’s one of the few times where the frame was desaturated and drained. For the first moment JoJo grasps the destruction around him. The Allies close in and the film takes an even more terrific turn where the Nazi soldiers recruit the Hitler Youth to take up weapons and defend their position. Comparable to Hitchcock never showing a knife penetrating skin in Pyscho’s (1960) shower sequence, Waititi never shows a child getting shot dead, but a mixture of sound and imagery make us comprehend it. The Death of Stalin (2017)provided a similar shift for its conclusion, abandoning satire and turning toward absolute horror. And somehow Waititi keeps it going, as after JoJo dodges the fight, now wearing a Nazi coat, he’s captured by the Soviets, rounded up to be executed where he meets Captain Klenzendorf who’s dragged out in his custom made bedazzled soldier garment. Knowing that JoJo fails to grasp his fate, he comforts the boy before removing the jacket and calls him a Jew. The soviets let him go, rounded the others up, and JoJo hears the gunshots moments later. It’s one of the year’s best scenes. JoJo returns to Elsa and lies about the Allies winning the war, fearing he’ll lose her. The act quickly breaks apart, providing the film’s one awkward hiccup; feeling like a dishonest prank for JoJo to play. I was left imaging if after Elsa asked who won they then walked out and danced in the streets. It’s easy enough to ignore as Elsa grasps her freedom and JoJo struggles with his reality; happy that the fighting is over, but not entirely sure for what it means for his Nazi worldview. As of writing this, the Golden Globes nominated the film for Best Comedy. For a film that had people in the audience crying for nearly a third of the running time, I’m left wondering about the ratio. Yes, the movie is funny, but the heart and drama is right up against it. It’s one of the best movies of the year, taking a story that seems like it’s been told over and over again and somehow providing a fresh take on the era both visually and within the narrative. This is another satire of the time; the way we’ll look back to The Death of Stalin and say that this is a movie about now - about how people ignore evil so long as it doesn’t affect them. Until people can empathize with the most vulnerable, history is doomed to repeat these mistakes. The movie makes you laugh, but days later you’re realizing how easy it is for the world to shift under bright colors and happy thoughts. BELOW: Always the most thrilling scene in a Nazi flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  A Clark Kent just doesn't work with Ryan O'Neil Director: Peter Bogdanovich Writer: Buck Henry, David Newman, and Robert Benton Cinematographer: Laszlo Kovacs Producer: Peter Bogdanovich by Jon Cvack Peter Bogdanovich is one of the stranger figures in cinema history. The first image as Dr. Melfi’s dry and gawky therapist who drinks out of a netted water bottle, followed by remembering that he also directed one of the 70s best films, The Last Picture Show (1971) and then Paper Moon (1973) after this film. Further from that are the countless BTS and film history documentaries where he talks at length about the filmmakers, as much critic and historian as actor and director. What’s Up, Doc? Is Bogdanovich’s experiment with the screwball comedy, with a synopsis immediately bringing to mind Bringing Up Baby (1938). It involves Dr. Howard Bannister (Ryan O'Neal), a musicologist from Iowa Conservatory of Music, carrying a suitcase full of rocks that he believes possess particular music properties. He’s joined by his grating wife Eunice Burns (Madeline Kahn) who’s on the precipice of being unbearably annoying. Within seconds you struggle to buy that Ryan O’Neal is with this type of person, glasses or no glasses, and even though a joke, it’s just too much. I’m left wondering if instead of a nagging fiance, they went with someone completely self-involved or apathetic and oblivious. I struggle to recall a more annoying spouse in a film. Howard and Eunice arrive at the hotel for the science conference where they bump into Judy (Barbra Streisand) who has an identical bag to Howard’s, full of clothes and a dictionary, in addition to another man named Mr. Smith whose same bag is full of secret government files. ater, a fourth bag is thrown into the mix, owned by Mrs. Van Hoskins (Mabel Albertson) and filled with jewels. Judy starts following Howard around, serving as the rebellious free spirit to tempt and win him away from his boring trajectory. They soon end up together, providing a weird scene where because Howard and Eunice are staying in separate bedrooms, she visits Howard, jealous after Howard comes home to find Judy in his tub. He sends Judy out onto the window sill, high above the streets while Eunice searches the place and later Mr. Smith arrives, hoping to get back his suitcase. He fires his gun and provides a moderately funny action-comedy scene resulting in the television exploding and the room catches on fire. Howard is kicked out the next day, having lost Eunice and still missing his suitcase full of rocks. They end up at a ritzy party where another dopy sequence takes place as the mob arrives and people fight and throw pies and still grab the wrong bags. The film has the cheesy feel of 70s popular cinema. Where although authentic to the era, the costumes and set pieces look like parodies. I was left wondering why none of it seemed to work. It seems some combination of having a very real and sexy chemistry between O’Neal and Streisand; the insufferable Eunice; too many characters with too many bags, leading to a plot confusing to the point of distraction. It made the common mistakes of throwbacks, in trying to be the best of what came before, failing to realize that the originals remain the best because in nearly 80 years few have been able to recreate the classic screwball comedy formula. Someone will one day find a new spin on the genre, but in terms of the original structure, there is little to improve upon. Even still, the closing sequence which had to receive the majority of the budget is absolutely incredible to watch; up there with The Blues Brothers (1980) in making you wonder how they possibly did it before the age of computer effects. The scene starts with Howard and Judy stealing a three seated bike, cruising through a Chinatown parade, getting stuck in a dragon puppet, all while being chased by Mr. Smith, the mafia, and someone else I don’t remember. Taking place in San Francisco, the cars leap over the hills and through the iconic streets. In a tense and humorous set up, a man hangs a sign on a tall ladder while two men move a plate of glass; serving as a scene straight Chaplin and Keaton where no sound is even required. We know what will happen, it’s just a question of when. In another insane moment, the cars race off a giant staircase, literally flying off and shattering massive chunks of concrete when they land. It’s the type of shot that couldn’t even be possible today. It shocks you with how real it is, making you long for the days when films had the willingness to go this far. It keeps going as Howard and Judy hope to jump their car off a pier and onto a moving fairy; failing to even come close and they crash into the water. Serving far from the most original climax, that is until one of the mafia convertibles follows, speeding down the pier and a figure stands up, and in a single quick take, catches a bunch of umbrellas to the face before the car jumps off and he jumps with it and you wonder how close he was to being killed; like how many times could they keep trying that stunt until injury or death? The film starts to nosedive as all of the characters are brought before a pill popping judge, attempting to tell their stories, enraging the justice until Judy raises her hand and addresses him as father. Getting to this point takes about ten minutes, though, and aside from not knowing what was discussed, it felt like an early version of a joke that they forgot to remove after realizing how much better the car chase was. Eunice leaves Howard, the jewelry bagged woman pays off all of their damage and court fee expenses, and just as he thinks his life is over, he finds Judy in the seat behind him and they kiss. It’s a movie I’ll probably never watch again, other to perhaps show the car chase. I struggle to define why it failed. There was something a bit too goofy about the characters; leaning just a tiny bit too far away from reality. Ryan O’Neal as a complete dork, especially after coming off Love Story (1970) just felt ridiculous, showing off with a grandiloquent irony. We get it. He’s not actually this type of person, versus Eunice in which Madeline Kahn felt very much honest to her character. Even Streisand seemed off, as never before had I seen her in such a sexy and alluring role, which for someone who always kept more moderate, made it feel wrong for to view. her as a sex object; as though it was taboo. There were other characters, but it’s like they were all kept at a distance. Randy Quaid makes a small cameo, but few others stand out. The head of the music conference, Frederick Larrabee (Austin Pendleton) was a great face to see; that weird type of actor that you know you’ve seen dozens of times before but couldn't get his name off a multiple choice test. Everyone else is just a distant blur. A body and a face to react to Eunice, Howard, and Judy. Combined with a weak plot involving rocks and music, it didn’t feel like anything was at stake. Howard left Eunice by the first third and the remainder of the movie involved Judy and Howard running off. They don’t know they have the wrong bag. We’re not even sure they have the wrong bag. And if they knew they had the wrong bag it seems like a simple solution to exchange the bags for the right one, meaning that this whole movie was about four of the same styled bags being switched and if that didn’t happen Howard would present his music rocks. It forces the only tension to be sexual. With no other stakes beyond the bag, we were only left like dogs, wondering when Howard and Judy would finally get it on. Even that only ends with a kiss. It took inspiration from a fun place, but failed to establish the most important piece of a romance is to ensure that there is chemistry between the characters which can extend beyond sex; that we can picture them sticking around with each other when the lust wears out. I Googled best screwball comedies and the latest film they offer in their list of nearly twenty is 1942. It’s a cinematic movement that seems confined to a particular era, making you wonder what it is that prevents the format from working any longer. Bogdanovich made a bold move to try, but he joined the massive graveyard of all those who came up too short. BELOW: Worth checking out for the car chase alone Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Clark's seen better days Director: John Huston Writer: Arthur Miller Cinematographer: Russell Metty Producer: Frank E. Taylor by Jon Cvack Earlier this year I read Joe DiMaggio: The Hero’s Life (2000) which is one of the better pop icon biographies I’ve read. Aside from being a great ball player DiMaggio became involved with Marilyn Monroe, quickly developing an obsessive relationship with her. On the set of The Seven Year Itch (1955) during the iconic white dress flare up scene, a crowd gathered around and DiMaggio flipped out, demanding everyone look away. It’s one of those weird hybrids of art and history - in which it’s not just the amount of pop culture and products that extended from that scene, but that one of the most significant players in baseball history was obnoxiously present while filming. Although DiMaggio got violent with Monroe, contributing to their demise, he would continue to love her until his dying day; sending flowers to her grave for the rest of his life. The Misfits has a comparable Hollywood tragedy facade. Made only a few years before Monroe’s death, the film was one of those powerhouse productions that, on paper, seemed en route to become a Great American Movie. Monroe had left Dimaggio by this point, entering into a relationship with playwright Arthur Miller who joined up with director John Huston for this flick. It was a movie clearly written for Monroe where she plays a soon-to-be divorced Roslyn Tabor as gorgeous as she’s ever been; for the most part losing that naive blonde innocence and providing a more mature and damaged self. We meet her as she’s waiting for the mechanic to come and fix her car. Guido (Eli Wallach) arrives, talking to the landlord Isabell (Thelma Ritter) and anxious to get the job done as quickly as possible until he sees Roslyn in the window, immediately smitten. Guideo fixes the truck and Isabell takes Rosalyn to the courthouse to finish the divorce paperwork, where they meet Rosalyn’s husband Raymond Tabor (Kevin McCarthy). Raymond is distraught and saddened, desperate to stay together; clearly the DiMaggio of this situation. After the divorce is finalized, Isabell takes Rosalyn for a drink at Harrah’s Casino. While drinking, she meets a local cowboy Gaylord 'Gay' Langland played by Clark Gable. Similar to Monroe, though over 35 years her senior, Gable was in the throes of alcoholism. He’d die before the film’s release. At 67 years old he seems a decade older; slow, confused, and soft. The sharp charm we’re familiar with now is completely absent. Having just watched The Irishman a few days before writing this, I noticed the similarities between the two; that no matter how great an actor is, at a certain time, like any talent, age will slow them down. While Miller and Huston might have wanted the beaten down A-lister to match the elderly cowboy persona, the performance felt done by a man who was struggling to keep up, let alone able to give his best work. Gay offers up his cabin out in the middle of nowhere as a place for Robyn to stay and the four take off that night, immediately breaking out the rum. An immediate tension develops between Guido and Gay as he flirts and makes his moves on Rosalyn and soon wins the battle, all while Isabel is left alone drinking whiskey. Gay moves in with Rosalyn, and without specifying that the two are sleeping together it’s obvious enough; leading to the film’s most iconic moment as Gay wakes up Rosalyn up in bed, who soon turns over topless. In real life, Monroe hadn’t told Clark Gable or the other crew that she’d go nude; shocking and offending Gable. It of course didn’t make it into the film, but nevertheless became a kind of pre-Internet cult Hollywood story. Nevertheless, the viewer gets a shocking taste of movie star skin you just aren’t used to seeing from the period. Life is slow about the ranch. Although they try to sustain themselves with a garden, Gay battles rabbits, placing poison around the property which Rosalyn then forces him to pick it up; not wanting to kill the animals. Gay keeps talking about roping in wild mustang which they can later sell. His story has become mythological, as prior to government or private development of the land, hundreds of wild mustangs would roam the area; allowing him and his fellow cowboys to bring in a very pretty penny. Guido joins them with his truck and they head to a rodeo to meet up with another man for the job, Perce Howland (Montgomery Clift) who’s determined to become a great showman, but struggles to compete; getting kicked in the head by a second attempt at a bull riding competition. Rosalyn case for him, igniting jealousy in Gay and renewing tension with Guido. The next day, Rosalyn joins Perce, Gay, and Guido as they head out to round up the mustangs. Guido boards a crop duster, doing low fly-by’s to round up the horses and send them toward Perce and Gay. The sequence takes your breath away, as for as slow as the previous 80% the story is, Miller and Huston take us to the desert plains, where it sure looks like Gable, Wallach, and Cliff rounded up actual wild horses by roping their necks, bringing them to a stop, and then approaching the bucking animals determined to protect itself. It’s terrifying because it is real, and while I’m not exactly sure what it all means, the images are strong enough to burn the mind. It’s not too difficult to see what Arthur Miller was exploring. In the end, Rosalyn gets the horses free, returns to the ailing Gay while the other men - whether slime balls or sexy - are forced to remain alone. Not so subtle sexual innuendo is sprinkled throughout the film, from the bucking and untameable mustangs to an earlier scene when Rosalyn enters and exits the house, explaining how she’s going “in and out” over and over to an onlooking Gaylord, or when she tries the mechanical bull at the saloon. The movie is very much about Monroe as an object desired. While Miller updates her dumb blonde persona, there remains an oblivious ignorance in her character. We’re meant to buy that Rosalyn doesn’t fully understand that she has three horny men who’re on the precipice of self-control. It is a story that is entirely from a Man’s perspective. You can feel the talent behind the film believing this would be one of cinema’s greats. Instead, it’s a film that seems written from its author’s own insecurities. It serves as a historical document of Monroe’s allure. The story is about an independent woman who provides meaning and purpose to three alienated souls in search of American greatness. Gay hopes to go back to being a cowboy though they no longer exist as defined. Guido is blue collar to his bone, blaming everyone but himself for his economic failure. Perce covers fame, but without the heart, stands only to embarrass himself. Rosalyn excuses all of these obstacles. In their minds, she would make everything alright. She would provide meaning. And in many ways - for many men - that might have very well been the case. She is so gorgeous and beautiful and mesmerizing that any man failing to find their place in the world would believably abandon their dreams for her. The issue is that this isn’t a universal idea. Most people do not meet or know someone like Rosalyn (aka Monroe). There is no star in their lives to eclipse all else. The movie isn’t about some grand American idea, it is about an obsession toward a very specific person. It’s best to ignore the power behind this film; to instead see it as a supplement to the Marilyn Monroe Myth. Though I suppose this myth is as American as it gets. BELOW: A movie where everything goes back to sex Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Ushering in the modern crime thriller Director: Akira Kurosawa Writer: Akira Kurosawa and Ryūzō Kikushima Cinematographer: Asakazu Nakai Producer: Sojiro Motoki by Jon Cvack Stray Dog is the movie that brought the Detective film to Japan and joins the handful of other Kurosawa films that took place within modern settings - joining Drunken Angel (1948), High and Low (1963), Ikiru (1952), and The Bad Sleep Well (1960); formats which leave you wishing for more from the same period. The movie opens in close up on a rabid stray dog, panting for air under the hot son. We meet the rookie homicide detective Murakami (Toshiro Mifune) who lost his Colt pistol after being pick pocketed on the trolley; scared that he’s going to lose his job, or worse, that gun could be used in a crime. Reporting the issue to his superior, he heads out into the humid and unbearably hot streets to track it down. From the get go, the movie reminds you of John C. Reilly’s character in Magnolia (1999) who met a similar fate; replacing the Murakami’s cockiness with an aloof determination to get featured on Cops. Murakami is a desperate man, as much concerned for the consequences as losing his opportunity to be a cop; which being filmed just a year after surrendering to the United States, is one of the few secure jobs a man could find in the post-war country. Soon Murakami’s worst nightmare comes to life when he discovers the gun had been used in a crime - fired, though no one got killed. He matches the bullet by returning to the firing range and remembering how he caught a stray bullet in a tree stump. It’s a bit silly given how many bullets must have been fired, but the bullets match and Murakami gets all the closer. One of the first suspects he pursues is a girl he recalls from the trolley who’s part of the underground nightclub scene around town, soon leading him into an underground network of criminals and illicit arms trade. Hitting a wall, Murakami is paired up with frequent Kurosawa collaborator Satō (Takashi Shimura) and the two zero in on a suspect - a faceless man in a white linen suit who they track to a baseball game, providing - as a fan - one of the more exciting sequences of the film (Kurosawa would hire newsreel men to film an actual baseball game; going to show how long and how popular the sport is in Japan). They lose track of the suspect but end up getting in touch with a prostitute he’s been known to associate with, Harumi Nukami (Keiko Awaji) who inform them that the man’s name is Yusa (Isao Kimura); a former WWII veteran who struggled with adjusting back to civilian life, turning to a life of crime. They soon discover that the Colt has been fired again, this time meeting Murakami’s worst fear in being used as a murder weapon. Satō heads back to talk again with Nukami, hoping she’ll reveal some details. When she finally does and Satō tries to call Murakami, Yusa arrives, overhearing that he’s a cop and shoots Satō, leaving him to bleed out to death. The next day, Nukami finally comes around and confesses to Murakami on where to find Yusa; who’s taking a train out of town. Having been pursued throughout the night, Murakami says that Yusa would have dirtied up his white linen suit and sure enough, in an exciting sequence, as Murakami looks at each man who’re all dressed in similar pale or white suits, Yusa turns out the window, revealing the mud all over his clothes. In a brutal final sequence, Murakami chases Yusa through the forest before Yusa fires at Murakami with his own gun, catching him in the stomach. Murakami wrestles him to the ground and as he attempts to choke Murakami to death, a band of young school girls and their teacher wander far in the distance behind; lending that great irony that only the masters could pull off. The plot is familiar enough, and yet like most of Kurosawa’s work, the narrative is decades ahead of its era. Released in 1949, to consider this film was made while America still occupied Japan and that the filmmakers actually went out into the streets to grab the footage, all contribute to the grittiness not seen for another thirty years later with films such as Dirty Harry (1971), Chinatown (1974), or The French Connection (1971). It’s a film that would launch the entire genre in Japan; where like any historic paradigm shifting piece of cinema, Stray Dog created many of the archetypes and tropes still used today It’s not Kurosawa’s best film, but by far one of his most influential - at least in the realm of crime drama. BELOW: Best scene of the movie Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  From Impeachment to Middle Class America Director: Ang Lee Writer: James Schamus; based onThe Ice Storm by Rick Moody Cinematographer: Frederick Elmes Producer: Ted Hope, James Schamus, and Ang Lee by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 2... The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Ben and Janey meet once again, and just as Ben again starts droning on about work Janey excuses herself, driving off and leaving Ben alone. Wendy and Mikey made amends the day before and go into the basement. Wendy puts on a creepy Richard Nixon mask and makes a move, offering him foreplay to which Mikey obliges in one of the most uncomfortable sex scenes I’ve seen in years. Just as they things underway, Ben heads down and discovers them. He's furious. Elena realizes Ben’s affair when he recounts the story, and not wanting to immediately destroy their lives instead keeps calm and turns to the local pastor who’s been flirting with her. Sure Elena could leave him, but having not worked what is she going to do? It’s easy to assume she could leave, but given their relatively comfortable lives, it’s clear why she wouldn’t. It’s a dilemma that sets up the conclusion in a way I failed to grasp as a kid. Although pissed, Elena demands they go to a Thanksgiving party where they discover it’s actually a “key party”; that is, a couples swap. The men throw their car keys into the bowl and the women pick the keys out and whoever’s they grab is who they go home with. Expecting Elena to want to leave, Ben’s surprised when she hopes to stay; later meeting the same priest in town who charmed her, realizing that his values aren’t just progressive but completely absent. He too believes in nothing beyond what brings pleasure. An ice storm begins to fall, Wendy heads over to Mikey’s who’s left to go play in the storm, ending back up at the pool where he slides across the diving board, his feet slipping across the ice before he reaches the end and starts to jump while preserving his balance. The stunt is strikingly real - cheated at first by showing feet walk on an icey diving board then possibly cheated by framing out the safety pads below but it is very much Elijah Wood trying to maintain his balance, creating great tension as we imagine falling over a dozen feet into ice covered pool tile. But he survives. Wendy meets Sandy’s brother at the house and invites herself in, finding him alone. The two end up in the guest room where they find Ben and Janey’s bottle of gin. Wendy demands they take a few swigs and immediately I was taken back to high school where alcohol combined with potential partners caused a buzz rarely experienced in adulthood - the thrill of getting caught combined with the lust for another combined with the effects of alcohol. Sandy follows, his face growing flush and Wendy asks that they take off their clothes. Sandy follows and Wendy attempts to make a move but the three or four shots cause Sandy to spin out and fall asleep with Wendy following shortly after. Back at the house, Ben experiences his own cocktail of desire for Janey, awkwardness with Elena, and battling an entire fifth of vodka on the rocks. Even after encountering the priest, Elena wishes to stay and the key party begins. One by one the couples go off and soon Janey is grabbed by one of the younger bachelors and Ben hops off the couch and falls to the floor, drunk. It’s an act of pure cinema - words delay the immediacy of action. It is without thought he jumped toward her in jealousy and as fast it happens we cringe and watch as the characters piece it all together. Added is Elena’s embarrassment who then ends up with Janey’s husband Jim and the two head outside where Jim makes an aggressive move toward her, then stopping, also embarrassed by the situation. Instead they drive off, soon skidding off the road near their houses and they walk back to Jim’s. Elena comes home to find Wendy in bed with Sandy, waking her up with that frightening parental disappointment. Meanwhile, Mikey continues his adventure, sliding down the frozen street that claimed Jim’s car, soon discovering a loose power line, watching as the sparks pop like fireworks and he scoots back against the steel guardrails and a line falls and electrocutes him dead. Ben wakes up hugging the toilet in the bathroom and tries his best to head home before discovering the body. He returns the body to Jim and Janey’s and takes off with Wendy and Elena to go pick up Paul from the train station. It cuts to the film’s opening image of Paul getting out of the train car, looking upon his family. In the first minutes, it looks like the perfect family; a married couple and their daughter picking up their son from school. Instead we now know what was beneath the surface, serving as the polar opposite of what we imagine. It’s what draws things back to the impeachment. The film suggests the president should serve as a paragon of virtue, and when their morality breaks down it impacts the nation. Finishing this up on Day 4 of the Impeachment Inquiry, as Gordon Sonland admits that Trump, Giuliani, Pompeo, Pence, Perry, and Bolton all knew about the quid pro quo with Ukraine, and that Republicans are doing everything in their power to downplay or ignore the accusations. It’s a strikingly comparable situation to Watergate. Right now it feels that we’ve never been more divided as a country. The parties believe two completely different realities. One side professes a great distrust in a problematic government and yet ignores the over 10,000 lies Trump has told in office. About sleeping with a porn star, about talking to Russia, about his financial position, about how he got his start in business, about his deferment to Vietnam all while disparaging handicap people, immigrants, women, POWs, and freedom of the press. He has loyalty to no one, willing to throw anyone under the bus who stands in his way. We should all despise the man and yet his base idolizes him. in the worst case, white supremacists see him as one of their own, in a more mild case, people feel empowered to view the press and Democrats as their enemies, no longer just opponents. It breaks down the values; he gave people's raw anger a voice and encouraged them to use it, no matter the hypocrisy. It’s this division that stands to make morals break. I’m not scared of Trump. I don’t think he’s smart enough to use the system to dismantle democracy (or cares), but what we’re seeing is how fragile our institutions are, and how someone more savvy could exploit its weaknesses. The Ice Storm is about the effects of these ethical breaks. To cheat on one’s wife, for kids to view sex frivolously, to drug and consider raping a crush - while I once saw the movie as about another cast of alienated upper class people, it seems more about a break of moral fabric. To think that it’s only upon death that the two families reunite, no matter the magnanimity, goes to show the lengths possibly required to snap people out of it. If they ever could be. Writing this about eighteen months before the Jan 6 Insurrection, I'm left wondering the same. Things are quiet with Biden, but Trumpism seems far from gone. BELOW: Key party Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Guess it's officially a Thanksgiving movie Director: Ang Lee Writer: James Schamus; based onThe Ice Storm by Rick Moody Cinematographer: Frederick Elmes Producer: Ted Hope, James Schamus, and Ang Lee by Jon Cvack There’s a strange subgenre that is the domestic drama that flourished near the turn of the millennium, beginning with The Ice Storm, followed by Best Picture Winner American Beauty (1999) followed by one of my all time favorite films In the Bedroom (2001), and culminating in the HBO miniseries Empire Falls (2005). They’re the types of films that would be tough to make today; focusing on middle-upper class white families as they struggle with suburban alienation. Growing up in a comparable, though far more middle class town, I related to the images contained, dreading the monotony of 9-5 traditional office life where I’d work a job that meant nothing to me which would pay well enough to build a life I could never leave. I’d get married and have a couple kids, buy a house, and continue a lifelong routine of heading out on weekends to buy more stuff to further fill or fix that house, with the occasional holiday or family party in-between. The criticism is that the film’s show a life of privilege with characters failing to grasp how good they’ve got it; disconnected from the horrors of the world. What I find is a look at what’s to come; that even when problems are relatively absent, humans are cursed for a life of dissatisfaction and doubt. Lately I’ve been getting images from late high school and college, back when I used to consume these films on the regular; of parties in Chicago three flats and apartments and driving around the city, thinking of where I might end up and how far my pursuit of film would take me. Nine years later and making a living as a director with content that fails to excite me, I imagine I’m feeling the same as if I’d stayed back home. Not in a cynical way where the two are all the same, so much as the relative feeling - if I never pursued the dream the feeling would have always been what if, and as I’m still trying to get into movies, the question remains an equally mysterious what if I quit what I was doing and tried something else. I’m confident the feeling is the same in all situations with how far you are from a particular dream serving as the dividing factor. Yet with dreams operating per Xero’s Paradox, any big advance seems far bigger than it actually is, leaving you to wonder what if things were different. The Ice Storm is a movie I never fully grasped the first few times I had watched it. My memory is that of some parents who’re exploring swing parties with some alienated teenagers attempting to navigate the perils of first loves and lusts. Owning the Criterion Collection copy, I read the back and saw the mention of the Watergate Hearings operating as a backdrop. I hadn’t known any details of the Watergate hearings while growing up and failed to see any connection. As of writing this, congress has finished its first round of public hearings into the Trump impeachment inquiry and the country is as divided as I could ever remember and voters are more physically separated as they divide between rural/suburban and urban. The consequences of Trump is a new willingness to take the gloves off and fight dirty and talk nasty, all with the perspective that it’s worth doing. I increasingly dread going home, where being one of a couple liberals in my entire family, there’s a bizarre tension in each conversation as I hope that no one brings up Trump and forces me to have to engage and spend hours in heated arguments and debates that lead to nothing. Knowing a bit more about Watergate and American politics and three years into a disastrous presidency, I now pieced together what the story explored - which is how the shift of values at the upper echelons of government can infect the family. The story focuses on the Hood family, consisting of patriarch Ben (Kevin Kline) and his wife Elena (Joan Allen) and their two kids, fourteen year old Wendy (Christina Ricci) and her private schooled brother Paul (Tobey Maguire) who call each other Charles. Made in 1997, Ricci is more in line with Wednesday from The Adam’s Family and McGuire is only 21 years old, looking like a gawky teenager. The cast continues with Paul’s crush on the rich girl Libbets Casey (Katie Holmes; shot the same year as the Dawson’s Creek premiere) who’s nervous he’s going to lose his opportunity to his roommate and ladies man and most famous for being Bernard from The Santa Claus, Francis Davenport (David Krumholtz), all the while Wendy is seeing Mikey Carver (Elijah Wood) who finally provides the one person that looks younger than his soon to be complete Lord of the Rings typecasting. The faces provide a bizarre nostalgic blast, made all the more impressive by Lee clearly discovering some of the 90s/00s most memorable performers. On the adult front, Ben and Elena have a cold relationship. Ben pours a vodka the moment he walks through the door and continues on throughout the night. Wasted by bedtime, he makes moves on Elena who’s completely uninterested. On the side, Ben sees Mikey’s mother Janey Carver (Sigourney Weaver) as the hot milf character who’s married to a dull husband, Jim (Jamey Sheridan) who’s often traveling for business. Wendy is obsessed with the Impeachment hearings, convinced that Nixon is a fascist, sympathizing with the left much to the chagrin of her father. Her and Mikey have an awkward relationship, often meeting in the middle of the woods or an old abandoned pool where they can make out. They don’t interact much beyond the experiments. Back at Mikey’s house they watch TV and snack in silence when Mikey’s brother Sandy (Adam Hann-Byrd) enters the room, catching eyes with Wendy and then scuttling off. Sandy is a strange kid, at one point blowing up all his toys with fireworks; far more disturbing as I’m now a full blown adult and grasp how strange it would be to watch a child destroy the things you bought them. Wendy meets Sandy outside of the bathroom, propositioning him with a show-me-yours-I’ll-show-you-mine game. They head into the bathroom and Wendy begins to unzip her pants, revealing her underwear when Sandy grows uncomfortable, shouting as his mom comes home and realizes what they were doing. Mikey finds out and in a haunting shot, Ang Lee has Wendy walking home in the rain down a trail while Mikey approaches from behind on his bike, declaring that he never wants to see her again, though proceeds to follow her. It’s a stinging moment, condensing volumes into a single take. Mikey hates her, but his lust dominates; he’s not nearly as mad at her as he is at himself for following her. BELOW: Regular old middle-class Thanksgiving dinner Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
Categories
All
© Jonathan Cvack and Yellow Barrel, 2015 - 2020. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jon Cvack and Yellow Barrel with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
|
RSS Feed