 Didn't even remember the film until I looked up a photo Director: Rainer Werner Fassbinder Writer: Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Pea Fröhlich, and Peter Märthesheimer Cinematography: Xaver Schwarzenberger Producer: Horst Wendlandt by Jon Cvack I’m still waiting for the next Fassbinder film to blow my mind - all I’ve loved thus far is Ali, Fear Eats the Soul (1974). Berlin Alexanderplatz (1980) was about eight hours too long, and I can’t remember anything from The American Soldier or The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant. I’m more convinced it was his sheer volume of filmmaking - 25 films over 17 years; 23 by the time he was 32. He’d die at 37 - which prevented all that many films from really shining; given that some were made in a matter of months from script to screen. There never quite seems to be the coherence or economy of a more carefully crafted picture. They often just felt imagined and immediately executed. Lola is at least the second best I’ve seen, part of the “BRD Trilogy” which follows three “remarkable” women (according to Criterion). Lola is the title character played by the brilliant (Barbara Sukowa) who works at a brothel, owned by a local property developer, the chain cigar smoking aristocrat, Schukert (Mario Adorf) who just so happens to lead the corrupt endeavor, ensuring that all of the major government players are properly taken care of. That is until the new commissioner, Von Bohm(Armin Mueller-Stahl), arrives in town and vows to end the corruption. Recently divorced, his housekeeper introduces him to her daughter Lola, who he falls in love with and attempts to court against her better warnings. Soon he discovers the truth and after failing to reform the city, he returns to the brothel and attempts to pay her for sex. She refuses, though they later make up and get married. One of the closing scenes is Lola on her wedding day, sneaking with Schukert to sleep with him in the barn. Similar to his other films, Lola left me with an empty and hollow feeling; as though the world is completely devoid of true love or attraction and all Fassbinder saw were the self-centered personas of some pretty interesting characters; never attempting to follow them as they change, but to only show them as they are. There are interesting moments and memorable scenes, specifically when Baraba Sukowa breaks down in song after losing Von Bohm. Allegedly Sukowa had done it in a single take, as Fassbinder hated to shoot more than one take for any scene. As impressive as the performance is, that anecdote also seems to explain his films. We never get to see the greatest that is deliberate, but rather the first idea, the first take, the first course of action. I’m sure there’s another Fassbinder film that I’ll enjoy, but I’d bet there won’t be many. BELOW: A taste of Barbara Sukowa's talent Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 Director: Ari Aster Writer: Ari Aster Cinematographer: Pawel Pogorzelski Producer: Patrik Andersson and Lars Knudsen by Jon Cvack For some reason, every time I say I thought Hereditary was pretty good, people recite back that I must have hated the film. It’s one of the more divisive horror films of recent years; part of the art house horror movement that I think is as exciting as the Slasher, Universal Classic, and Sci-Fi Creature Feature movements. The VVitch (2015), It Follows (2014), It Comes at Night (2017), and Get Out (2017) are at the vanguard; ushering in a new era of exciting filmmakers. In terms of craft, Hereditary is at the very top, providing a psycho-horror/Satanic witchcraft hybrid. The simple fact is that I just don’t like psychological horror all that much, and even though I know some tell me/demand I understand that there is no mental illness amongst any of the characters or within the story, and that it’s actually all real, there’s still the suggestion. As mentioned in my thoughts, my problem with psychological horror is analogous to surrealistic filmmaking or dream sequences - everything, no matter how fantastical, is permitted. So yes, if it’s all real, Hereditary’s images are terrifying. Maybe subsequent viewings will change my opinion as other films have (they didn’t and I’m more convinced we’re watching a story about severe schizophrenia). Point is, for something that so many hail as a work of art, many seem determined to provide an exact explanation. Maybe it’s the militancy that turned me off a bit. Or maybe I’m wrong. Midsommar has one of the greatest cold openings to a horror film of all time. I’m tempted to say of this century. It is a master class in cinema; utilizing the camera and blocking interesting characters in ways that maximize the experience. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen the film, and the feeling remains; though the exact story has broken apart into a series of images - a long take of a college student Dani Ardor (Florence Pugh) who suffers from the recent murder-suicide of her parents and sister. Her graduate student boyfriend Christian Hughes (Jack Reynor) and his friends and classmates are introduced moving from a painting down to the table, introducing them one by one before following Christian when he gets a call from Dani; the muted color blown apart when the film cuts to the flashback of firemen discovering Dani’s dead parents and sister, shot in a way that has been turned into mind. Each take was gentle and deliberate, completely immersing me within the story. The kind of situation where when the title credits pop, you forgot time altogether; having been so fully immersed. I struggle to think of a film that has better shown such a specific moment in a romantic relationship. Dani is struggling mentally and Christian clearly has some feelings for her. Some I talked to said it was for the sex, but I don’t get the sense that Dani was interested all that much in sex as we never see them intimate. Through Aster’s mastery, it felt as though the two had a great and passionate year or so, and through a long slow demise - spawned by the tragedy - Christian realized he was no longer in love with her, while Dani seems to have shifted into complete dependence. Aster’s ability to maintain the subtlest amount of genuine care for another is what makes it work so effectively. So on rocky terms, Dani discovers that Christian and his friends are going to Sweden for six weeks; somewhat to study a local festival called Midsommar in an ancestral commune of Hårga, partially to party and see Europe. Christian’s three friends Josh (William Jackson Harper), Mark (Will Poulter), and Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) all prefer Christian finally end things with Dani, and with the film taking place a year after the opening, his credibility is shot. It all doesn’t stop Pelle from flirting with Dani, who again, is masterfully directed, appearing as a perfectly nice guy who maybe could appreciate Dani for who she is, yet with just a hint of creepiness, knowing it’s all a ruse, and he might just be as bad as his friends. They head out and the tone shifts completely. The first film people compare it to is The Wickerman (1973), which I’m not really a fan of. I don’t hate the film, but when I think of putting on a horror film, I just have never been in the mood to return. The reason I think so few of these films exist is because they generally exist within the daytime and outside with sunny weather. The complete opposite of what is scary or frightening. It’s a challenge, but it’s not particularly overcome. The five arrive outside the gates, with blue skies separated by Simpson clouds, and dozens of clusters of people sit all across the field as far as the eye can see. Pelle finds his old friends Connie (Ellora Torchia) and Simon (Archie Madekwe) who give them some shrooms. In a scene all too many of users have been in, Christian wants to take them while Dani is nervous. What gives it that extra zest is that Dani has a legitimate reason to probably not do hallucinogens with severe mental trauma and while on medication. It’s this point that raises my first mild criticism, in that it seems like - similar to Heredditary - the whole story could have easily been an entire fantasy brought on by a bad drug cocktail, and just as she initially took the shrooms and saw the grass going through her foot, she became immerse. I don’t think it’s legitimate, and perhaps this was Aster’s throwback to psychedelic cinema, but it shook the foundation a bit. Any way, Dani agrees to take the shrooms and grass starts growing out of her foot and she has a freak out, leading her to walk off alone. For anyone that’s ever been curious or has done shrooms, this is the greatest depiction I’ve seen of the drug and capturing a freak out. I still don’t know how he achieved it, but Aster caught the drug’s essence by somehow making it appear as though any element on the screen was only twirling if you were looking at it. With my eyes bouncing from Dani to the trees, I kept thinking the effect was fading, only to look back and see the same. They end up in the town and Christian and his friends nearly orgasm over the anthropological significance. The place is entirely run by blonde hair and fair skinned people, all decked out in white linen clothes and mostly friendly. They give the guests a tour of the complex and show them where they’re going to sleep. Christian or another friend ask about the lack of old people, told that old people “go away” after the age of 64. Later, we meet a pair of old people who are the ceremony’s guests of honor. In a long scene, where unfortunately the tone begins to shift, we watch a long and drawn out sequence, culminating in the two senior citizens going to the top of a mountain, to then jump off and commit suicide. The woman has a clean death, though the husband only busted his legs, requiring them to bring in a gigantic hammer and crush his skull in. Dani, Christian and the others freak out, including Pelle’s friends. It’s defended as being part of the culture, the old people allegedly saw it as a privilege and elected to do it, and it allows them to sustain the colony by doing so. Both the film and craft level off at this point. Expecting it to go far off the deep end, the story doesn’t get worse, it just doesn’t maintain its upward trajectory. Although Josh had always planned to write his thesis on the festival, Christian announces that he’s going to make it his thesis; pissing Josh off for reasons that I guess I understand but seem silly. Christian is a fairly dead beat student, so even if they were going to write on the same festival it doesn’t appear like there’s much competition. Secondly, although I’m not certain, I’m sure the professor would have final say, and very likely would prevent Christ from stealing Josh’s topic. Both my senior papers in college had to be pitched and developed by the professor. I can’t see graduate school being much different. This feud further alienates Dani and perpetuates the tensions with Christian. Pelle approaches Dani once again, giving her an illustration for her birthday where she confesses that Christian had forgotten. Christian then tries to make things up in one of the cringiest scenes I’ve watched in a long time; trying to light birthday candles and singing an awkward Happy Birthday as Dani sees right through it. He then starts crushing on a local girl who he can’t take his eyes off of. Meanwhile, Pelle’s friend Connie freaks out when she learns her boyfriend Simon was driven home, unsure by who. Mark then accidentally pisses on a sacred tree and pisses off the rest of the commune. All of these aren’t necessarily bad developments, but beyond Dani and Christian’s relationship, they all feel like easy tropes from a filmmaker that has reinvented so much. It felt like busy work to kill them off and get to the film’s final scene. It felt like so many of these could have gone in far more fucked up directions; again, leveling the film off prematurely rather than building up. The final scene involves another brilliant shroom trip, as Dani plays a musical chair/tag hybrid, as she dances around with the other young women, all tripping out, doing their best to avoid falling down. Christian is lured by his local crush’s family and into a bizarre and unforgettable scene where women across the age spectrum sing and dance while he fucks his crush who lies on the ground. A stoned Dani wins the contest, receiving full honors in the shape of a flower dress, though soon discovers Christian who later is burned alive with two other commune members, his corpse already gutted and their skinned friends turned into scarecrows. Another issue is that Jack Rynor - who plays Christian - looks strikingly similar to Chris Pratt; making the dramatic moments feel a bit off, as I found myself expecting some humor. The problem unfortunately peaking out during the dramatic ritual fucking scene. I’m not completely sure this wasn’t intentional. The movie is a good horror film, but as others have said and similar to Hereditary, I’m not even sure it fits the horror category. On a Reddit AMA, Aster suggested he’s going to move on from horror for the time being. For a guy who is a radical cinephile, I cannot wait to see where he goes. Aside from some of the simpler tropes, Midsommar otherwise provides an engaging romantic story; serving as a fantastical catharsis, but leaves me wondering what Aster will explore beyond the genre. BELOW: Another story about trauma - was it all a trip? Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  It's silly but never breaks Director: Michael Cimino Writer: Michael Cimino Cinematographer: Frank Stanley Producer: Robert Daley by Jon Cvack Up through the late 60s and up through the mid-70s, Hollywood produced a strange series cynical, though successful films - Bonnie and Clyde (1967), The Graduate (1967), The Wild Bunch (1969), Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969), Easy Rider (1969), The French Connection (1971), Straw Dogs (1971), Deliverance (1972), Mean Streets (1973), with 1974 having a full resurgence with The Parallax View, The Conversation, Chinatown, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia, and Woman Under the Influence. It’s no wonder that Thunderbolt and Lightfoot - released the same year - while moderately successful, has been smothered by its peers. Not knowing Michael Cimino directed the film, I’m not sure where I heard about this film, though I’m fairly certain it must have been on a list of the greatest heist films. The film abides by a similar limpid structure as other road movies from the period. Not so much a lack of clarity, so much as having that indefinable growing pain as cinema drifted into modernity. The film opens in a wide shot of a rural wheat field and moves on into a church where we see Clint Eastwood as a priest reading a sermon. Having no idea what this movie was about other than that it was well rated, I wasn’t sure whether to expect an action film per the likes of Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry (1969) or Easy Rider, or a cerebral story along the lines of Five Easy Pieces (1970) or Scarecrow (1973). Ten minutes in and you realize the film is actually an action crime dramedy. An assassin, Red Leary (George Kennedy), attempts to kill the preacher who we later learn is called Thunderbolt, who narrowly escapes and meets Lightfoot (Jeff Bridges), who just moments before had stolen a badass muscle car. Lightfoot soon learns Thunderbolt is an infamous bank robber, and part of a disbanded gang who were neary busted; with Thunderbolt going into hiding as a preacher. His fellow gang members are now trying to kill him, suspecting betrayal. Soon the Leary and his timid sidekick Eddie Goody (Geoffrey Lewis) catch up to Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, expecting to kill him but rather unite for a final strike against the same bank they failed to rob the first time. So begins one of the better prep and go heist sequences as we see them unload a 20 mm cannon to blast through the vault door and for Lightfoot to then dress up as a woman in order to seduce the security guard and tie him up. The bank job itself goes by fine, but it’s when the crew decides to hide out in a local movie theater that film shifts to its most exciting sequence. Red and Eddie hop into the back of the car, but Red’s jacket hangs out the back, causing the cashier to think that the car is sneaking in people without paying. I’d have to check, but I don’t believe we see the cashier call the police. Instead we listen and watch the crew listen to the sirens close, standing in their positions, soon coming through the entrance where Thunderbolt takes off. After the police shoot Eddie, Red sneaks through the back seat and demands they quit. He tosses the body and kicks the absolute shit out of Lightstood, steals the car with the loot and takes all of the heat with him; later ending a brutal shootout and lethal shootout. Thunderbolt & Lightfoot continue on through the night, eventually coming across a major stash of cash hidden in an old schoolhouse. Thunderbolt buys a car, and Lightfoot becomes increasingly delirious; soon losing the ability to speak and dies shortly after. It’s an ending that matches the era - Thunderbolt is left alone in the middle of the country, alone, unsure of where he goes from there. The Graduate, The Wild Bunch, Easy Rider, Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry - all the films contain that Vietnam era cynicism. Two years in, I can only really name Death of Stalin and The Post as pure Trump Era cinema. The reasons could warrant an entire post, but a mixture of exhaustion and Trump’s self-satirizing might contribute to the problem. I also think that compared to over 55,000 conscripted young adults dying in a war most didn’t want to fight, there just isn’t the same need for catharsis. The older I get, the more this generation of cinema reflects a deeply dark period of American history; something we should be thankful for is far from where we are right now. These films express the hopelessness people sought to connect with. I often feel a melancholy when watching them, appreciative of how incredibly and unique they are; in some ways fortunate our greatest storytellers have not yet been jaded enough by the world around them. Not yet. BELOW: Great opening Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of action cinema's all time greatest characters Director: James Cameron Writer: James Cameron; story by James Cameron, David Giler, and Walter Hill Cinematographer: Adrian Biddle Producer: Gale Anne Hurd by Jon Cvack Aliens is a movie that I’ve seen at least three times, but had so spread out those individual viewings that I always forget what exactly happened in the story. It has long been one of the most divisive films amidst the sequel versus original debate; originalists love the horror film and progressives adore the action sequel. I’m more on the fence, finding them both near perfect films, though if pressed, I'd go with Aliens. There are certain movies that make me sad with how good they are; knowing that nothing like them could exist ever again, back when the only place you could ever see this movie the way it was meant to be seen was in the theater and before the complete reliance on computer graphics; when watching a film was about seeing real things used to create a world. About a month back, my friend lent me the Blade Runner (1982) BluRay. I’ve put off watching the famous Final Cut ever since my first viewing, convinced it couldn’t be all that different from whatever version I’d seen and hadn’t loved. What I saw this time around was one of the best at home movie watching experiences I’ve had in a long while. Without getting into the details, one of the movie’s greatest elements is the world they built through practical effects. Every single effect, no matter how extravagant, was in camera, from complex matte paintings to the sets and practical miniatures. Not a single piece of this movie was executed with computers and somehow it looks better than the vast majority that do. Aliens provides a similar practical overload, building an entire intricate alien planet and designing beautiful model ships to explore. I’m not sure which versions I’ve seen, but my BluRay collection came with the Director’s Cut, introduced by James Cameron and I assume (through the images which accompany his intro) that the meat of the extended scenes involve the crew discovering Ripley fifty years into the future and the way she adjusts back to life and learns about her daughter and age rather than getting straight to the alien planet as quickly as possible. What I missed the last time were the politics I should’ve expected from Cameron. Paul Reiser (who I didn’t even remember being in the film; perhaps due to the once deleted scenes) plays Carter J. Burke, a representative from the Weyland-Yutani Corporation who’s committed to maintaining the company’s investment versus ensuring the colony’s safety. Ripley goes before a review board where her peers sit smoking in disbelief of the story about a killer alien creature; not going so far as to fully blame her, but enough to take away her pilot license. When they learn that the colony has gone dark, Weyland-Yutani organizes a group of marines to head down to explore the situation. Burke admonishes Ripley to join them in order to lend her expertise about the possible alien creature. So kicks off what I remember most about the films, as the marines, led by 80s sci-fi action star Dwayne Hicks (Michael Biehn) and joined by the wild mouthed, though absolute coward, Private Hudson (Bill Paxton). So begins what I remember most from the film, as the marines assemble onto the ship and recreate the modern D-Day landing scene which would go on to be replicated on and on from everything from Edge of Tomorrow (2014)and Starship Troopers (1997) to Medal of Honor and the first Call of Duty. It remains one of the best, as Cameron’s magnificent use of miniatures, both on the Exomoon and the ship itself are expertly crafted and fully believable and real. There are fully functional armored trucks and tanks, in which one family pulls a bit too close to the alien spacecraft. Aliens might have one of the greatest minor plots of an alien action movie, taking place in a colony overtaken by the alien creatures. That in itself could be a great movie, and I’m left wondering how much more interesting that could be rather than where the series has gone. Either way, it’s little more than a MacGuffin to get the marines down to the planet. However, this is also where the narrative shifts from what I remembered as a non-stop action shoot out between the soldiers and the aliens, which it is (up to the first third), then shifts into a type of alien-slasher film hybrid where the soldiers are slowly hunted down and killed off one by one. Subsequent films would either focus far too much on the mythology or action; often sacrificing all of one for the other. Cameron continues the story, leading us to a mother-bee alien whose children rounded up the colony to act as hosts for additional aliens to hatch. In the film’s climactic sequence, they initiate a nuclear warhead before battling the mother-bee, which is arguably one of the greatest practical creatures ever built; looking so real that you’d swear the film was remastered with computer graphics. What makes James Cameron most unique is his ability to politicize his blockbuster films. Most involved corporations versus labor; the blue collar versus white. Terminator’s entire premise resided on the dangers of a corporation determined to create the greatest weapons. The Abyss (1989) has the fearful military fight determined to destroy an alien race (the extended cut having the aliens even warn against Nuclear annihilation). Titanic (1997) is very much an exploration of class. Avatar explores imperialism. True Lies (1994) is his only apolitical film. Aliens continues the mission, with Carter J. Burke as a company man who’s entire mission is to ensure maximum profit for the Weyland-Yutani Corporation. And yet counter to the temptation to hire a slimeball businessman per the likes of Die Hard's (1988) (1986) Harry Ellis, the choice of Paul Raiser made the character far more sympathetic; where you never necessarily believe his motives are dishonorable until the closing scene when he wants to preserve the alien creatures in the hopes of striking it rich for discovering a new form of biological weaponry. Roger Ebert gave this movie 3 ½ stars, but went on to qualify the praise, stating, “The movie made me feel bad. It filled me with feelings of unease and disquiet and anxiety. I walked outside and I didn't want to talk to anyone. I was drained. I'm not sure "Aliens" is what we mean by entertainment. Yet I have to be accurate about this movie: It is a superb example of filmmaking craft.” It just goes to show how revolutionary the film was, as like any new work of art, it stands unmatched against most of its sci-fi action/horror peers - arguably one of the finest films from either hybrid. With the exception of a few somewhat janky miniature spacecraft movements, the stands against anything from the last 35 years. I struggle to think of sci-fi action films that outshine it, just others that stand alongside it: James Cameron’s The Abyss and Terminator (1984) John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), and Philip Kaufman’s Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) are the few that come to mind. BELOW: D-Day throwback Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The Master of Noir Director: Bretaigne Windust and Raoul Walsh Writer: Martin Rackin Cinematographer: Robert Burks Producer: Milton Sperling by Jon Cvack Classic film noir is dominated by two men - Robert Mitchum and Humphrey Bogart. Each offers their own version of the stoic and tough male figure; a precursor to James Bond, Clint Eastwood or Bruce Willis. They were old school Don’t Tread on Me Strong men. They smoked, drank, slept around, and didn’t trust anybody but themselves, often abandoning the law for a greater ethic. Mitchum’s best work is every bit as good as Bogarts, but Bogart’s haggard look makes his work all the more historical. The further time goes by, the more I wonder how a man like Humphrey Bogart became one of the most famous men in the history of entertainment. Given my deep dive into film noir (I even took a film noir class in college), I was surprised to have never heard of The Enforcer. The story opens up in the evening before a witness Joe Rico (Ted de Corsia) is set to testify against his former mob boss Albert Mendoza (Everett Sloane). The Assistant District Attorney Martin Ferguson (Humphrey Bogart) and his fellow officers babysit the terrified and paranoid Rico, who’s already faced a few attempts on his life. The setting is perfect, establishing a claustrophobic and hot police office, and yet with the coolness of an approaching rain. Rico moves in front of a window and a sniper from the building across the street fires, striking him in the arm and the officers scramble out to find the shooter. Rico is left inside with a couple of blue suits, heads into the bathroom and then escapes out the window and onto a slim ledge on the side of the building. Ferguson makes his way back and attempts to save Rico who then falls stories down and dies. The department looks to lose their case against Mendoza, when Ferguson decides to take one last look at the evidence. In pure noir fashion, the film flashes back to the beginning of the investigation in which we learn that Mendoza was essentially operating a hit service. We’re then introduced to a colorful and memorable cast of characters, starting with a crazed and freaky young kid James "Duke" Malloy (Michael Tolan) who bursts into the police station, declaring that he killed his girlfriend. He leads them far into the country and directs them to the grave where he buried her; soon admitting that the girl was actually a contracted hit job. He later kills himself and Ferguson opens an investigation. After rounding up another suspected contracted killer and using his daughter and wife as collateral to make him talk, he reveals an organization referred to as the “troupe” which takes hit orders via telephone from a mysterious third party. The personas range from the young dreamboat to an old man to a lazy eyed psychopath and the story follows the rise and fall of each of the individuals, breaking away to further flashbacks and tangents, and what could so easily be a mess, is non-linear noir as though made by Tarantino, in being about as much about the performances as the actions. It’s as close to Kubrick’s The Killing (1956) as I’ve ever seen. I’ve spent three days attempting to write this thing, forgetting that I’ll run into the same barrier every time. Inherent to most of the movement is a complexity in narrative. Film noir plots are a puzzle to figure out, ranging from Double Indemnity (1944) to The Big Sleep (1946); the latter of which after watching I asked what the film was about on the old IMDb message board (pre-wikipedia) and received a single response that told me to calm down, hit my “peace pipe”, and watch it gain. The person wasn’t wrong, I just never did. The Enforcer is a rare film that, like Touch of Evil (1958), although a somewhat confusing plot to recall, it all makes sense at the time. Like any great art, there is no single element to identify film noir with greatness. It’s a collection of all cinema can offer. To describe the plot in all of its intricate details diminishes how the film makes you feel. It’s the rare perfect experience with an old film; you always hope it’ll be amazing, but rarely is it. Shot in 1950 or so, the film has that additional pop of being shot on location in the LA city streets, which combined with the low key photography of DP Robert Burks who’d go on to shoot Strangers on a Train (1951) right after, and then the rest of Hitchcock’s best works. Humphrey Bogart provides all you want, and as we move past the point of parody - as I’m sure most upcoming generations have no idea who he is enough to even reference - he gets better with each film I watch from him. He embodies film noir and all its grit and creates yet another addition to the best from the movement. BELOW: A nice taste Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of the flattest climaxes from 80s rom-com Director: Howard Deutch Writer: John Hughes Cinematographer: Jan Kiesser Producer: John Hughes by Jon Cvack John Hughes hasn’t directed as many films as one might think - achieving the rare accomplishment in which out of a filmography of seven films, five have become American classics and the other two I haven’t seen yet. For those who don’t want to look it up, it includes Sixteen Candles (1984), Weird Science (1985), The Breakfast Club (1985), Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (1987), Uncle Buck (1989) and the two films I haven’t yet seen She’s Having a Baby (1988) and his last film Curly Sue (1991). Even more impressive, he’d still go on to write Home Alone (1990), Beethoven (1992), Miracle on 34th Street (1994), Home Alone 2 (1992), Dennis the Menace (1993), and 101 Dalmatians (1996; the live action version which we don’t hear about too often, with Glenn Close playing Cruella de Vil and looks amazing). All before his sudden and early death at the age of 59. Most wouldn’t consider Hughes to have a definitive visual style, so much as a look and focus. He directed his attention toward teenagers with complete personalities, from the innocent to the embarrassing. Many have tried to compare him to filmmakers since. On Real Time with Bill Maher a few years back, Maher made the comparison to Judd Apatow. It’s close, but there’s a strong lean toward the masculine and its honest dirty jokes. John Hughes somehow made seemingly insignificant events into grand and hilarious dramas. Similar to Christopher Nolan, he somehow keeps fantastical scenarios all grounded in plausibility. Any great storyteller has the ability to consistently balance humor and drama; an achievement that only a select few have done. Some Kind of Wonderful has all of the hallmarks of a John Hughes film - the outsider artists; a painter and part time mechanic Keith Nelson (Eric Stoltz) and his best friend and drummer Watts (Mary Stuart Masterson). But it’s not directed by John Hughes, only written, and whatever that means, only Hughes seems to have the talent to pull off his work. This film feels just too serious compared to his other work. Keith is soft spoken and easy going; an overall nice guy who's not interested in going to college no matter how often his blue collar dad wants to suggest it. Watts is a tomboy who many consider a lesbian, completely in love with Keith. This isn’t necessarily presented at the top, but it heats up quick enough when Keith starts crushing hard on the hottest girl in school, Amanda Jones (Lea Thompson), who while also from a blue collar home, is dating the most popular and richest guy in school, Hardy Jenns (Craig Sheffer). The scenario itself is great, as like many guys, I too crushed on the most popular and hottest girls in school, creating grand fantasies in my head about how we’d fall in love and go to prom, never realizing that we probably didn’t have a single thing in common to sustain even a long conversation. It’s a feeling that is so clear as an adult. If I was single and looking for a relationship, I can’t even imagine ever approaching it from the same direction; desiring a gorgeous person regardless of whether there’s anything more. It’s such a simple idea, and yet in high school, for some reason it’s incomprehensible; sure it’d be great to have someone cool, but it’s secondary to beauty. Similarly, I too have been friend zoned, holding a head over heels crush on a friend who was always with another guy; in which throughout the few high school years, there were dozens of tiny moments where you think they might come around, but never did. The film offers the reality of these situations, with the fantastical scenario of both getting the dream girl and the friend zone working out for the best. The issue is that both scenarios don’t quite work with how they’re introduced and executed. It’s odd that Keith spontaneously develops this crush on Amanda, as even something as simple as the first day of the new school year could have helped the problem. It’s clear the crush has been going on for a while, but to the point where it felt almost stale. While Eric Stoltz plays the perfect stoic and offers an interesting type to fall for the beautiful popular girl, his reserved personality didn’t express the passion. It was as though it could have been anybody. Watts' attraction is also a bit odd, as it doesn’t initially feel like she’s into Keith until he expresses his interest in Amanda and then it takes off like a rocket ship. From there she displays all the pain of unrequited love and jealousy, but by not feeling arbitrary, the tears feel empty (however real they were); as though it wasn’t love so much as she didn’t want to be left behind when Keith went off with Amanda. The best performance and relationship comes the resident bad boy Duncan (Elias Koteas) who nearly gets into a fight with Keith, which sends the two to detention where they then form a lasting bond. The movie’s worth checking out for the performance alone. However, again, I was left wondering if I’m meant to accept that these two people have bumped into each other for the first time ever, and why this film couldn’t just take place on the first day of the school year to help support these random and seemingly new interactions. From there, the film follows the usual Hughes formula. After a gawky attempt to ask Amanda out, he finally succeeds when Hardy can’t keep his hands off another girl. Watts makes just as many attempts to hint at her feelings for Keith, going so far as to offer to practice kissing him in preparation for the date with Amanda. The one moment that should have launched fireworks, but fell flat. Keith makes the ridiculous choice to cash out his entire college fund to buy Amanda earrings which his dad had been bugging him about and takes Amanda out with Watts driving, taking the film into cringe territory and they end up at Hardy’s party that night so Keith can stand up to the guy and proclaim his love. Hardy asks his friends to beat him up, saved by Duncan and his fellow outcasts and while it takes me back to my 7th grade Hot Topic social clique feuds and how satisfying it’d be for the outcasts to win, Keith then realizes that he actually doesn’t love Amanda but actually Watts and runs off to kiss her. With a completely crooked foundation, the moment is a vapid dud. Not to mention that it doesn’t seem like Keith ever gets his college tuition money back, which his father had saved and given to him. It was a bunch of tiny details that could have been corrected by Hughes. A look, a touch, a word - all those tiny moments he was master at creating. I don't think it could have achieved the level of Sixteen Candles, but maybe he didn’t either, and thus handed it off. There is potential there. Other than that, it’ll make you realize just how great of a director he was. BELOW: Saved from a crash and burn by Elias Koteas Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  It could be fixed Director: Christopher Nolan Writer: Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan; story by Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer Cinematographer: Wally Pfister Producer: Emma Thomas, Christopher Nolan, and Charles Roven by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... We’re led back to the city where we learn that Gordon is floating the idea of revealing the truth about Harvey Dent. With crime at a record low and Batman now Gotham’s most wanted, he hesitates to reveal the truth, knowing it might cause the people to turn back toward criminality. We go on to Wayne Manor, where yet another party is thrown, in which Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) remains hidden upstairs, unshaven, slow moving, and now using a cane. One of the servers Selina Kyle (aka Catwoman; Anne Hathaway) works her way up to his room where she steals Marth Wayne’s pearls before Bruce reveals himself. The two are immediately attracted to each other, and even after Bruce requests she leave the pearls, she heads off and we later learn that it wasn’t about the necklace so much as retrieving Bruce’s fingerprint for a corrupt member of the Wayne Enterprise board, John Daggett, who hopes to seize power. He’s played by Ben Mendelsohn who has gotten even better with age, as while he was relatively unknown at the time, he’s gone on to play everything from the King of England in Darkest Hour (2017) to a backwoods redneck in The Place Beyond the Pines (2012). Meanwhile, Bane is building a massive underground army that exists in the Gotham sewers, which have been attracting many local foster home kids; particularly of interest to former foster child and now police officer John Blake (aka Robin; Joseph Gordon-Levitt) who takes it upon himself to investigate the disappearances even against the direct orders of Gordon’s second in command Peter Foley (Matthew Modine) who believes it’s a waste of time. What we soon learn is that Daggett is working with Bane who uses the fingerprints in order to frame Bruce Wayne in making a series of erroneous trades the Gotham Stock Exchange that soon tank the entire company; which if left in Daggett’s control, would provide Bane all of the firepower he would need to launch an attack. The prints cause Wayne Enterprises board to fire Bruce, but before he can, he appoints one of their more trusted board members, Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard). The company has been designing cold fusion with the use of a nuclear orb, though being in its nascent stage and undeveloped, they fear it getting into the wrong hands (especially if Dagget gains control of the company). Gordon then lands in the hospital after investigating the sewers where he comes across Bane’s lair, soon captured by some of their soldiers. Blake escapes and Gordon is captured, jumping into the rushing sewer water where he catches a bullet and is later found by John Blake, who admits that he knows Bruce Wayne is Batman and demands to know the truth of his disappearance and soon Batman goes into the sewers where he fights Bane, who strikes his back, knocking out one of his vertebrates. Christian Bale exudes the same exact torture I’ve experienced when throwing my own back out to the point of immobility or at the cost of complete andd unbearable pain. He’s sent to some deep prison well in the middle of some exotic desert; the place where Bane was born. The only way of escape is by climbing the precarious well which no man has done since; most dying as a result. With Gordon in the hospital, Peter Foley makes the ridiculous and unbelievable decision to have 99.9% of the Gotham police enter the sewers to retrieve Bane and his acolytes, which is exactly what Bane hopes for when he explodes all of the entrances, trapping them all inside and ripping away any protection for the city. There are somehow no off duty officers, or even a few left on the street to, you know, protect the rest of the city, and while I want to look past, it is such an incredible decision that serves as the foundation for the rest of the film that you can’t help but be pulled out for the remaining hour. There are still fantastic sequences, but for whatever they are, you realize that the world you’re now being asked to accept doesn’t make much sense. In situations such as this, I try and find alternatives that could have made it work. Perhaps the cops were all assassinated one by one (which would be even harder to accept), or maybe they could have somehow been poisoned by the scarecrows sewer juice. This would have also been hard, but at least we would have accepted the consequence; the larger issue being how they avoided poisoning the whole city, which I can’t find a way to work around. The easiest answer seems to be that they could have shown the hundreds of off duty cops and the handful of street cops to have been killed off or arrested. They could have gotten access to the schedule through a simple throwaway scene of a corrupt cop providing the information. While not perfect, it at least would have shown that no, not nearly every single cop went into the sewer which no sane person would possibly order. I’d argue this could even be shot and integrated into the film to fix the glaring problem. A few cutaway scenes showing the few remaining have now been killed. Bane then launches an attack on Gotham city during one of their big professional league football games, where the crowd is decked in the old school yellow and black batman colors, which seems a bit too vibrant for the overall palette. A bomb goes off which explodes the fields, killing all of the players, except for one man who makes it to the end zone for a touchdown. It’s one of the few scenes in the series that leans far too heavy into digital effects, making you wish they scaled it down a bit in order to pull off a more vivid sequence which would honor the rest of the film. It’s when Bane reads Gordon’s secret speech that reveals Harvey’s corruption that the film bends another bound of logic; namely, if I just watched a football field completely explode and kill dozens of players and spectators, I’m not sure how much of an impact a crazy person reading an alleged speech from James Gordon would have. Nevertheless, it causes mass panic, perpetuated when Bane introduces Dr. Pavel who explains the nuclear bomb circling the city. The US Government sends in troops, though Bane threatens to destroy the entire city if they attempt to come in. Another issue is when, due to Catwoman’s savviness, they put her into the all male prison, which appeared done for the sole reason of allowing her escape when Bane’s army breaks in and releases all of the male prisoners who join them (though why they couldn’t have done the same with a women's prison, I’m not sure). This then bounces right into the next question as to why in the world Gotham City’s prison population, all immediately provided with automatic weapons, would then electively fall under Bane’s command. The easy solution is showing Bane’s intimidation tactics, but it also seems like it could have been cooler if there were multiple factions (having extra police up above ground would fit well in this regard; they’d be just another faction). After numerous failed attempts to escape and a return to training, Bruce’s cellmate pops his vertebrae back into his spine. Bruce finally scales the well walls and returns to Gotham where his Batcopter blasts the police free and joins them in attacking Bane and his crew, as though straight from Medieval times. Batman fights Bane on the footsteps of city hall where Miranda Tate appears, revealing that she’s Ra’s al Ghul’s father and continuing her father’s mission to “liberate” the world of an immoral Gotham; by blowing it up with a nuclear weapon cruising around Gotham, hidden in a truck. There’s an exciting sequence where Gordon and Blake attempt to chase down the truck with the bomb and disarm it the best they can; failing, only for Batman to then fly in and grab it, to then fly out to see where he allegedly sacrifices himself in order to save Gotham. Earlier in the film when Alfred nearly quits in protest over Batman returning to the streets, there’s a flash of him expressing what he wants; to see Bruce settled down and married, perhaps with some children. In the closing images of the film, we see Alfred arrive at the very place we saw earlier, with Bruce at the table with the Catwoman; and while you first want to think it’s a nice nod to Alfred’s commitment, you then wonder how Bruce dating a criminal could possibly work. You then wonder if it’s just a fantasy and that Bruce is dead and perhaps it was only Alfred’s fantasy (but then why would it be Catwoman in the dream?). The best possibility is that it actually happened and it wasn’t a compliment to Alfred so much as reality like the rest of the film, and so I’m left hoping Nolan returns; as it feels almost certain that he will. No one can continue Nolan’s story because it’s so much his vision of the story; which he created loosely off the Frank Miller material alongside his brother, but very much made his own. It seems especially likely when John Blake mentions his name Robin, which would make zero sense to include unless explained further; he could have just as easily said Tiger and he may or may not have become Batman’s sidekick. If I was a betting man, I’d guess around the mid-2020s it’ll return; preventing Bruce Wayne from getting too old for plausibility (not that Christian Bale couldn’t do it; though then what’s the difference?). There seems so much left to explore, and looking it up, he did hint at a fourth film back at Cannes in 2018. In terms of superhero comic book, I’d put The Dark Knight Rises in fourth after Logan, as compared to nearly all of the Marvel movies I’ve seen (and I haven’t most of them), this is unparalleled. I can look past the liberties it took with the story as it was all in an effort to provide the most cinematic action sequences possible. It goes far enough to pull you out, but only during the quieter moments; when the police are marching through the tunnels and the coordinated attack goes off, it sets off a thrilling final act, providing bumper to bumper action which in and of itself is phenomenal. Only Nolan could somehow match the adrenaline between a person climbing out of a well with a Batcopter chasing a truck with a nuclear bomb. Watching Christopher Nolan is watching someone that, like Spielberg or Kubrick, captures the highest of imagination, all while abandoning the bells and whistles of style in order to tell as realistic a story as possible. As a kid I was always bummed when I finished Back to the Future, knowing that the world was over and that’s all there was to see. Watching these films, I feel the same; the world is so vivid and I wish there was more to explore. Hopefully there’ll be. BELOW: Why Nolan should never go with CGI Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Tom Hardy's first mask Director: Christopher Nolan Writer: Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan; story by Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer Cinematographer: Wally Pfister Producer: Emma Thomas, Christopher Nolan, and Charles Roven by Jon Cvack During our recent annual boys trip - where my three best friends and I spent an extended Memorial Day weekend up in Donner Lake (where we filmed Road to the Well), we got into an extended argument about whether art is democratic or subjective. I believe it is as while there is objectively good craft that goes into the making of art, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll connect to audiences. Van Gogh made hundreds of paintings, but "The Starry Night", "Self-Portrait", "Cafe Terrace" are for whatever reason his most famous pieces which millions hang reprints of in their homes. His paintings were widely shunned until long after his death, as the art form was evidently too progressive for its time and required the world to catch up. Shakespeare wrote around 38 plays, but he’s best known for King Lear, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, and Othello. I’m sure academics and critics could either explain why they are the best, or possibly why others should be more popular. The point is that these individuals sent their art out in the world and those are the pieces that most connected to the masses. I understand the criticisms of Rotten Tomatoes, in which the craft of criticism is deduced to an aggregate score, but nevertheless, if you want to know if a film is pretty good, Rotten Tomatoes is fairly reliable. Anything critic sore above a 70% or so is probably worth checking out, and anything above a 90% if probably going to be incredible. The same goes for user ratings, whether on Rotten Tomatoes or IMDb; the film masses put in their own score and the scores are aggregated. A common misconception is that these numbers are some type of official score rather than averages. The point is that regardless of how the individual feels, the work is scored by the aggregate of critics, general movie fans, and cinephiles. My friends disagreed with this line of reasoning, as they believe there are objective standards of what good art is, begging the question as to who this God-like individual is that has come up with objective standards as to what constitutes good art. As to even say a committee of people would come up with them would also make the process democratic, as by the nature of compromise, some would win their standards, others would lose, and a few in the middle might get exactly what they want. Word of mouth is another democratic form of celebrating a work of art. If a movie is good enough we’ll post it to Facebook and tell our friends and the filmmaker achieves the legendary word of mouth success that is perhaps the finest form of merit. Someone then might say they only read one specific critic and it’s that critic which best reflects their taste. Back when Ebert was still alive, I used to avoid looking at this star rating before I saw the film and see how close we were. I’d say we agreed around 90% of the time, plus or minus a half star. While I do believe he could objectively argue what a good film is, I also didn’t read many other critics. Perhaps my taste was directed by him and if I had consumed another critic, I would have seen and experienced films differently. Maybe it was his Chicago roots and blue collar vibe that made what seems to be a field now dominated by hyper educated elites. As of writing this, I’m reading my Pauline Kael collection of reviews “Love Movies: 1998-1991” and after around fifty reviews, I think she’s only celebrated a couple of them; appreciating, but taking the axe to such films such as Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989), Goodfellas (1990), Field of Dreams (1989), and Back to the Future Part 2 (1989). I struggle to think of more than two movies she enjoys (none of which I’ve even heard of), but her writing and insights are fantastic. If I read her before seeing these films for the first time, I might have grasped her point. I’ve tried other critics as well, but few seem to offer more that 90% synopsis and 10% paragraphs (a problem I’ve realized I’m bumping into over this last year); they’re not telling you about why the film’s good, they’re just telling you what it’s about and if they liked it. Thus, whether it’s through reading multiple critics, looking at the critic’s aggregate score, looking on Rotten Tomatoes, IMDb or Netflix at how people like the film - it’s ultimately providing a reason to check out the film. It’s the fairest way to decide whether a film is good or bad; you’re allowing a spectrum of people - some with your tastes, some in opposition - to share what they think. You then do your part by either rating, sharing, talking about, or perhaps saying nothing at all. I can appreciate a film for a variety of reasons - whether of an individual actor or director or cinematographer or writer or a specific production company like A24. From there, I can appreciate performance, blocking, set design, photography, special effects, story, mood, sound, score, make up, wardrobe - essentially everything that gets a nomination (which is why casting and stunts should get a category). Ideally, all of these elements add up into a perfect movie. That’s the goal. Most recently and closely achieved with The Revenant (2015). At other times, all of these elements are absent and the movie becomes torturous to watch; providing that strange experience where time seems to slow down and your phone is sitting there, calling to you for distraction. Suffice it to say, The Dark Knight Rises was a contentious movie. Some loved it, I enjoyed it, and others hated it. I’ve said it before, but The Dark Knight is up there somewhere with Indiana Jones and Back to the Future as one of the all time great summer blockbuster trilogies. Christopher Nolan creates a world just as rich as Burton’s, though shifting toward realism. There are implausibilities and silly moments, but for the most part it all abides by a particular logic, and with Nolan being one of the all time greatest action scene craftsmen, his films literally feel large when I watch them; as though my TV and sound has expanded, fulling immersing me with the story. Like the vast majority of trilogies, The Dark Knight Rises is the weakest film of the series, but with Nolan’s skill, I can look past the weak plot and appreciate the individual moments he creates. It was this film that kickstarted the conversation about art, as my friend thinks that Gotham sending all of the police into the sewer was far too ridiculous an idea to buy, pulling him out of the movie. Although it's been too long since I've seen the movie (I always seem to stop after the first two), I completely agree. It is an absurd, plot-serving idea that they used in order to get the police off the street and allow Bane and his minions to take control of Gotham. Where my friend and I differ is that I can still appreciate the fight on the steps of city hall, the BatCopter chasing a truck with a nuclear bomb, and phenomenal car chases; not in terms of some grand artistry, but because they are so fun to watch. Regardless of why they’re happening I’m fully immersed and enthralled with what’s happening, and if we’re going to look at the roots of cinema and how it relied entirely on the image, these moments contain just as much art and craft as anything else. The movie opens eight years after The Dark Knight (2008), which for those who don’t remember (cause I never have in my three viewings), Harvey Dent (aka Two Face) was killed by Commissioner James Gordon (Gary Oldman), though Batman took the rap due to both fearing that the city couldn’t recover after the town learns that their charismatic mayoral candidate was entirely corrupt. Before getting into the details, the film provides us with our first action sequence in which a group of captive terrorists are transported via plane back to the states. They’re led by Bane (Tom Hardy), a former League of Shadows member, who’s been captured and en route for extradition. The sequence provides the exact level of realism seen in the other films, in which it sure looks like they actually had two planes flying in the sky, attach cables, and have terrorists jump through the windows in order to make the extraction. However, it also begs the first question as to whether this was the best way to accomplish the mission. Would surrounding the men before they got on the plane, taking them out through snipers, or simply having more troops been easier? Sure, but that also would have been boring to watch, and going off my first point, a large part of what makes these films work is the incredibly realistic action sequences. BELOW: Not sure if this was the best to retrieve Bane but it's sure fun to watch Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Never quite reaches the thrill you expect from mountain movies, but it's fun to look at Director: Ken Annakin Writer: Eleanore Griffin; Banner in the Sky by James Ramsey Ullman Cinematographer: Harry Waxman Producer: Bill Anderson and Walt Disney by Jon Cvack I’m pretty sure my favorite Disney movie is Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971); a fantastical movie about a multi-dimensional space traveling bed used by a trio of children cared for by their nanny played by Angela Lansbury. Having always watched this movie while I was home sick from school, this is probably one of my most watched films of all time and I haven’t seen it in probably over fifteen years. It’s part of that bizarre 1960/70s era when Disney made many forgettable live action narratives between their animations. The handful of (perhaps) well known films such as The Parent Trap (1961), Swiss Family Robinson (1960), Herbie (1963), The Love Bug (1968), and one of their best known, Mary Poppins (1964). There are perhaps over three dozen of these films, most which I’ve never heard of - The Apple Dumpling Gang (1975), Snowball Express (1972), The Million Dollar Duck (1971), That Damn Cat! (1965), The Moon Spinners (1964), and The Black Hole (1979); all of which sound at least amazing enough to see once. Third Man on the Mountain was one of these films I’ve never heard of and discovered after seeing The Longest Day and looking up director Ken Annakin’s filmography. In addition to The Battle of the Bulge (1965), he also directed Swiss Family Robinson (which I haven’t seen) and The New Adventures of Pippi Longstocking (1988; which I also haven’t seen; though both are rated well). Checking these films, I then found director Robert Stevenson, who in addition to Mary Poppins, directed a bunch of other Disney Live Action movies, who’s filmography alone will give you an idea of their style. Third Man on the Mountain inspired the creation of Disney’s Matterhorn ride, which I’m not sure I’ve ever rode, and is somehow more famous than the movie. It takes place in a small Swiss town below the alps, filmed on location in Switzerland. It follows a tween boy Rudi Matt (James MacArthur) whose father died while guiding a mountain climb, now living with his uncle Franz Lerner (James Donald). Rudi works in a small store with alongside his soon to be girlfriend Lizberth Hempel (Janet Munro) and his boss Theo Zurbriggen (Laurence Naismith), though he takes every moment he can to ditch out and mountain climb, with his eyes set on the legendary Matterhorn where his father passed. His uncle disapproves of his ambition, where James Donald creates a person with the littlest amount of love before it becomes meaningless. Rudi soon meets the famous climber Captain John Winter (Michael Rennie) who recruits Franz to guide him up for his latest climb and convinces him to let Rudi join. Even in full screen with a terrible transfer, this movie was impressive; as you can feel the location’s authenticity, in which Annakin expertly frames the mountains to make you believe the whole crew must have climbed just as far up as they seem to. Rudi soon makes a silly mistake while camping out for the night, forcing the Captain and his uncle to risk their lives to save him; denying his invitation when they finally scale the Matterhorn. The story never develops the excitement for what’s to come, as by the end, literally down to the very last five minutes or so, it felt as though the movie had yet to peak out. The Captain and Franz bring their own guide, who’s abrasive, knee jerk, and completely self-interested. While there are more moments of absolutely gorgeous set design and matte painting, it’s the smaller moments which feel deprived. Soon Rudi meets up with the guide and as they ditch the Captain and Franz (for reasons not entirely clear), the guide then falls off the mountain and hurts his leg and arm. Rudi forgoes the final summit in order to help him back down the mountain to safety; leaving the Captain and Franz to make the ascent and they all return to town to wild cheers and celebration. The whole story feels like the first act to a movie, slowly moving through a bunch of different storylines, all pointing to the final summit. Perhaps it’s because we’re now spoiled with Kerouac’s Into Thin Air and it’s many renditions, but the film seems to suffer from a lack of the darkest hour. There are injuries and arguments and moments of tension, but it all seems to hint at what’s to come; later revealing that they’re all that there is. It’s a fun movie, and if you could find it in BluRay I’m sure all the story’s shortcomings might fade away with the visuals, but if not - the movie is like what late stage Hitchcock was to James Bond. BELOW: Definitely had no idea this movie influenced the ride, but I also never rode it Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" - Sandrich/Berman on continuing the series Director: Mark Sandrich Writer: Allan Scott and Ernest Pagano Cinematographer: David Abel and Joseph F. Biroc Producer: Pandro S. Berman Having just watched The Gay Divorce (1934), I figured maybe I broke through some barrier; perhaps I was wrong about Top Hat (1935) and Swing Time (1936) and maybe Astaire and Rogers just take some getting use to. Shall We Dance confirmed my previous position, in that here’s another film from the pair which just doesn’t seem to be about anything other than a messy love triangle that breaks into some pretty good song and dance numbers. Watching the bonus feature, I learned that producer Pandro S. Berman and his creative team started to struggle by this 7th edition; not wanting to abandon what worked, but feeling as though they were long repeating themselves. To change things up, George Gershwin and Astaire opted for a ballet focus. Unfortunately that has nothing to do with the thin plot, involving Peter Peters (Fred Astaire), again a famous dancer who falls for Linda Keene (Ginger Rogers) who’s again not interested, but a slimy publicist then fabricates a story to show the two are married, which pisses off Linda who then gets engaged to another guy in spite, but then Peter and Linda then actually get married, but then divorced when Linda catches Peter with another predatory woman and misunderstands the situation. But things quickly resolve in lightning fashion which I don’t entirely understand how the two end up together. What made The Gay Divorce work so well is that it was a great story with musical numbers stitched in between. Like their other films, this film creates a messy and forgettable story, leaving only the musical numbers to stand on their own. And a few of them do, including the introduction of the famous “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” and another great set piece in the ship’s engine room called “Slap That Bass” (though I’m not sure why Peter went into the engine room and broke into song). So little of it seems motivated, as though George Gershwin’s score came first and the story came in a far distant second. I’m confident I’ll entirely forget what this film was about soon enough. BELOW: Not sure what this had to do with anything, but it's a great jam Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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