Wow, it has been over a month since I've updated this damn thing. I find myself in the position of being too lazy to post/not finding enough time to post, while still not having the heart to let it completely wither away.
It's a tough call. On the one hand, no one reads this. I tried to spread the link to last years Police Academy marathon write-up and as far as I can tell generated no new traffic. So that's demoralizing, I guess, although I haven't really tried to promote it too hard.
On the other hand, it's actually a lot of fun to go back and re-read my own posts. The blog was even more of a diary than I realized, and it's amusing to see what thoughts I was having about what films a year ago. Ever since I stopped posting regularly back in November, I've been slowly but surely combing through the old posts and trying to correct them; not just the plethora of spelling and grammar mistakes, but also trying to punch up the language and make the posts read better.
What I've decided is, even if no one ever reads any of this, I still enjoy having this around as a personal record. So I'm going to try to keep intermittently updating the blog. I got burned out a bit on the "Shitty Movies by Great Directors" thing, mainly because I didn't feel I had the time to do it justice, but I may return to it over the summer when work is slow. Right now, I figured I'd throw down some random musings about some movies I caught this winter.
Shenan's grad school career has afforded me a wonderful opportunity. This past semester, she has been gone every Tuesday and Wednesday evening at class. I have been using these times to watch movies that Shenan wouldn't want to see. I don't mean that in a considerate way; it's not so much that I'm avoiding movies she wants to see on the nights she's gone, so much as I'm getting a chance to watch movies I wouldn't otherwise get to watch with her around.
That's not a knock on her. Shenan is a remarkably tolerant girlfriend in putting up with my movie nerd shit, but there is a lot of nerd shit I want to watch that she (understandably) has no interest in.
I used this semester as an opportunity to brush up on some filmmakers I had either admired in the past, or felt that I needed to become more familiar with. I watched 3 films from each director. Here are some random thoughts on what I watched.
Akira Kurosawa
Kagemusha - For a director who seemed reluctant to switch from black and white, Kurosawa does some interesting stuff with color here, especially in a weird, near-psychedelic dream sequence. Kurosawa was a stylish director, but I was not expecting that kind of flamboyance. Kagemusha is Kurosawa doing what he does well: an epic adventure with a humanist heart. Maybe a little too heavy on the epic-ness and a little too light on the humanism, but still an ambitious achievement. Kurosawa's epic battle scenes maybe be a fraction of the size of Peter Jackson's, but they are ten times as spectacular.
Throne of Blood - Kurosawa's take on MacBeth is notable for being the only Kurosawa film I've seen completely lacking in sympathetic characters. Throne of Blood is a study in human greed and evil, presenting a nightmarish world of violent conflict, ominous castles occupied by power-hungry soldiers, and dark, shadowy and seemingly endless forests filled with evil spirits. More or less the opposite of what I have come to expect in a Kurosawa film. It's faithful in tone and in plot generalities to the source material, but recontextualized in a samurai/feudal Japan setting. Kurosawa's other samurai films tend to feel like westerns, but Throne of Blood more like some weird samurai/Shakespeare/film noir hybrid.
Red Beard - This turned out to be a great follow up to Throne of Blood because it starts out by wallowing in darkness, but gradually transforms into a celebration of the goodness of humanity. Watching these movies in this order, it's like you get pulled through the wringer, but you come out whole at the end, and you feel better for it. The inspiration feels more inspirational because Kurosawa acknowledges the darkness first. The sweet ain't as sweet without the sour, etc etc.
Werner Herzog
Stroszek - Gloriously oddball. Herzog has made some of the most visually intense films I've ever seen, but not in a saturated color, perfectly framed, elaborate, expensive-looking Atonement sort of way. It's more along the lines of... he thinks up or finds the craziest-ass things and puts them on film. And he uses these mind-blowing images to try to capture the essence of something beyond normal comprehension. His movies are almost comparable to the final sequences of 2001. Not in the sense that they look like an acid trip, but in the sense that the filmmaker has an epic vision of mind bending events. I never thought that a dancing chicken could be so strange, hypnotic and convey a horrific sense nihilistic dread, but that's Herzog for you.
The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser - I had recently watched Truffaut's Wild Child before seeing this, and Herzog's film is a more philosophical version of similar material. Both films examine individuals raised without human interaction and their subsequent integration into normal society. Wild Child is, as the title suggests, about a boy who was abandoned in the woods and grew up alone in the wild, and Kaspar Hauser is about a man who, for reasons never made clear, was locked inside a room alone his entire life and is one day set free. Truffaut's film is concerned with the formation of language and expression, the joy of creativity, the relationship between father and son, and tries to examine both what the boy gains by becoming socialized (love, companionship, means of expression), and what he loses (connection to nature, individualism). Herzog goes a little further into the intangible... what would this man understand about the nature of reality? About logic? About other people and his relation to them? And are his seemingly strange perceptions any less valid than our own? In typical Herzogian fashion, it's not that all these questions are answered (it's called Enigma and not Obvious Explanation for a reason) so much that the fun is in raising them.
Woyzeck - The Herzog/Kinski collaborations are stuff of legend. Herzog has a willingness to rush headlong into insanity, and Kinski was maybe the only actor who could keep pace. That's why I found this one surprisingly disappointing, it's down right laid back when compared to the likes of Aguirre or Fitzcarraldo. There were definitely some nice, quirky touches here, but it lacks the obsessive passion that distinguishes the best Herzog films.
Errol Morris
The Thin Blue Line - When I was a little younger I think I had this sense that documentaries should strive for objectivity or fairness, and try to capture reality. Now I realize that that is a reductive way of thinking, and doesn't allow for much "filmmaking" to actually take place. What's great about the Errol Morris films I've seen is that they display a vision. They are biased, visually intense, emotional. And in this case, The Thin Blue Line is also actually important: it helped get an innocent man off of death row.
Fast, Cheap, and Out of Control - What's neat here is that the subject of this documentary is entirely manufactured. What I mean is, Morris tells the stories of 4 different eccentrics who have nothing whatsoever to do with each other. What Morris does is intercut the stories to draw parallels between the different, otherwise unrelated subjects, and illustrate points about creativity, philosophy, and maybe obsession. And Morris kicks the style up to 11, with an intense score, fast cutting, Natural Born Killers-esque switching of film stock, etc.
Standard Operating Procedure - I've enjoyed some of Michael Moore's films in the past, but I wonder if he feels embarrassed when he watches movies like this. Errol Morris' thoughtful, complex and disturbing documentary about Abu Ghraib is every bit as opinionated and provocative as Moore's films, but makes Moore's smug, self-congratulatory style seem amateurish by comparison. I mean, I get that can be part of Moore's charm, but watching Morris' work underlined for me Moore's failures as a filmmaker.
Yasujiro Ozu
Late Spring - Ozu's films a little hard for me to talk about because they seem simple yet they stir up some complex emotions. The films appear minimalist in story and visual style, but upon closer inspection actually contain many interesting, bold flourishes. The story of Late Spring centers around a young woman being pressured into a marriage she wants no part of... yet we never see her groom-to-be, nor is the wedding actually shown. Those are major artistic decisions, not necessarily immediately noticeable but not something you see in most films.
Early Summer - Not a sequel, although it is somewhat of a different take on similar things. It's mentioned often how, as his career progressed, Ozu moved his camera less and less. His final films, from what I've read, consist entirely of static shots. This is a somewhat earlier film of Ozu's, so he still moves the camera some times. In fact, the final and most moving shot in Early Summer is a tracking shot of a field, slowly passing by as a breeze rustles through the plants.
Good Morning - This was a little weird; an Ozu comedy crammed full with fart jokes. Including a scene where characters fart in time to music while exercising. Has to be seen to be believed.
John Ford
Stagecoach - I'm not a huge western fan per se, but I can appreciate a good one. I figured this was worth seeing not just because of Ford's involvement, but also that it was the film that turned John Wayne into a star. It's a fun western, though certainly not a must-see.
The Grapes of Wrath - The interesting story here is that Ford held somewhat right-wing political beliefs, yet this is a story often discussed as having a left-wing message. I didn't necessarily sense any tension between ideologies going on in this film, perhaps Ford thought it was a great story worth telling despite its politics.
My Darling Clementine - Entertaining retelling of the Wyatt Earp/Tombstone story, with Henry Fonda in the Earp role. Again, I'm not inherently crazy about westerns, but this is a good one.
Jean-Pierre Melville
Le Doulos (aka The Finger Man) - Knew I'd have to circle back some day and catch-up on the films of Melville, the French master of the existentialist crime drama. His crime/noirs are all variations on the same premise: a cold-hearted criminal (who is the protagonist) plans a major score while a cynical, world-weary cop with fascist leanings closes in. Oh, and the "hero" always dies in the end. What makes these movies so damn good is the precision with which Melville directs the heists, and the stylish but sparse attitude he applies to both the look of the films and their protagonists. Le Doulos is noteworthy for its entertainingly convoluted plot, and for a performance by Jean-Paul Belmondo that feels like a more legitimately badass and iconic version of his character from Breathless.
Le Deuxième Souffle (aka Second Wind) - As I recall, this one took a little while to get going but picks up as it goes along with a great heist sequence, a few interesting twists and a nifty suspense sequence involving a hidden gun. All of his films portrayed the police negatively, and this one especially so, where the police are depicted as beating suspects into confessions and even pulling off an elaborate ruse to trick one crook into ratting out his friends.
Un Flic (aka A Cop aka Dirty Money) - The cool thing here is that this is another reworking of the Melville formula I mentioned above, only this time the focus is shifted somewhat off the crook and on to the cop pursuing him. And in a neat twist, Alain Delon, the actor who played the crook role in Melville's sweet Le Cercle Rouge and more importantly in his masterpiece Le Samourai, is cast as the titular cop for this go around. But let me pose a question to you: how much can one unfortunate detail derail an otherwise excellent movie? Because for the first half or so of Un Flic, I was convinced that it was going to be Melville's next best movie after Le Samourai. Then came the centerpiece heist sequence. It involves a man grappling down from a helicopter onto a moving train, which is a little too much to take, but is not the real problem. The real problem is the the helicopter and the train and both very, very, very extremely obviously tiny models that Melville tries to pass off as the real thing. I can't properly describe how badly this breaks the spell of the film... they actually look like toys. It takes a while for it to recover, and it's a damn shame because the movie surrounding this distractingly phony sequence is top notch. It's amazing how 2 or 3 minutes of screen time can greatly alter the rest of a film.
Ernst Lubitsch
The Smiling Lieutenant - It's maybe a little shocking to see what they could get away with in terms of sexual references in some of these pre-code films. It may be tame by today's standards, but you're really not expecting to see characters in an early 1930's musical comedy make unmistakable allusions to fucking (in terms more polite than that). As with most Lubitsch, this is light on its feet and immensely charming.
One Hour With You - Again with the sexual content, here even the title is a reference to the sex act. This is another funny and charming musical, surprisingly frank, cynical and maybe even progressive in its message that married couples are almost incapable of remaining faithful, and that if they love each other then they might as well forgive each other their transgressions.
To Be Or Not To Be - I'll give this one the benefit of the doubt, since it was made during WWII, that Lubitsch and the rest probably weren't aware of the full scope of the atrocities committed by the Nazi party. That would explain why they would make a lighthearted comedy about a troupe of actors trying to infiltrate the Nazis to help the resistance, complete with jokes about concentration camps. Hard to judge this one, when so much of it made me feel a little uncomfortable. I know that wasn't the filmmakers intent, but knowing what we know about the Holocaust, it's hard to view this one the way it was intended to be viewed. Shortly after seeing this one, I saw Truffaut's The Last Metro, which also involves Nazis, WW2 and a troupe of actors. And while it features Truffaut's usual light touch, it doesn't feel as inappropriately silly as Lubitsch's film.
During the year I was regularly updating my blog, I made a big deal about my Kommittment to Klassiks. What's funny is that in the past few months, since my K2K has ended, I've done a way better job of watching klassik, older, artsier films. Not only the ones listed above, but I've also caught up on other stuff, including a buttload of Truffaut. It's like I had to stop trying, and then suddenly I started watching a lot of great movies.
Showing posts with label Toshiro Mifune. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Toshiro Mifune. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Shitty Movies By Great Directors, Episode 4: Steven Spielberg's "1941"
I suspect that I'm not going to have a lot to say about Steven Spielberg's 1941, because my complaints about the film generally boil down to the same thing over and over again. We'll get to that later; first let's talk about Spielberg's body of work.
Spielberg may be my least favorite of the directors I'll cover in this column. Which isn't to say I haven't loved a lot of his movies, I am classifying him as a "great director" after all. I just don't think his output has been as consistent as the other directors we've gone over. Wedged in his filmography, between admittedly numerous and noteworthy good and great films, are some unremarkably decent films (Hook, Catch Me If You Can, arguably Minority Report), several mediocre misfires (AI, The Lost World, The Terminal), and a beloved classic that I like but have never been a huge fan of (Jaws). And he has made at least one other irredeemably shitty movie, War of the Worlds, which I seriously considered writing up but had to disqualify because it actually seems to be well liked by the majority of people. Despite the objective fact that it sucks ass. It's probably for the best that I don't write it up; it's such a perfect example of dynamic filmmaking paired with an embarrassingly awful story/script that my post would probably end up too much like my post for What Lies Beneath.
Still, I'm not going to deny that the man is a genius. Even a mediocre Spielberg movie tends to feel like an achievement on a technical level. The man knows how to tell a story visually. My personal favorite of his is probably Munich, because I think it represents the perfect combination of his blockbuster skills (it is a superb thriller) with his artisitc and intellectual sensibilities (it's the most moving and effective movie I've seen about our post-9/11 concerns about war, revenge, terrorism, etc.).
In a four way tie for second place would be the Indiana Jones series, even my least favorite of which kicks the balls off the vast majority of films that pass for "event" movies. (And no, I'm not referring to Crystal Skull as my least favorite, asshole). The rest of his best stuff tends to be a mix of movie magic/delight with strong suspense/thrill-ride overtones (Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Duel, hell even E.T. is kinda intense at times).
I used to be a huge fan of Saving Private Ryan. Over the years I think I've slowly realized that it has a greatly flawed script that relies too much on silly coincidences and the overstatement of dramatic themes, but I still love the performances and the relentlessly intense and convincing staging of the battle scenes.
That's the thing about Spielberg, his best films are just so fucking exciting. Lots of movies, lots of good movies, it's easy to tune out during or not pay close attention to. But when Spielberg is on his game, his movies command your undivided attention. You sit forward in your seat, your heart rate increases, you don't want to miss a second. Maybe sometimes it's just empty spectacle, but when the spectacle is this great why does it need to be anything more?
The problem with 1941 isn't that it's an empty spectacle (although there's no denying that's what it is), it's that it confuses spectacle with comedy. Over and over again. In every scene of the movie. This is a sprawling, nearly 2 1/2 hour long epic WWII comedy with a cast of I'd say at least 20 major characters, but there is scarcely a laugh in it. Where most comedies have jokes, 1941 has explosions and gun fire and large set pieces involving choreographed dance routines and full-scale riots. It's presented in a manner that suggests it's supposed to be funny, but I'll be damned if I could find the humor.
It's perplexing to me that this mess was written by Bob Gale and Robert Zemeckis. They wrote my favorite movie of all time, Back to the Future, and the humor, structure and complexity of its screenplay is a monumental part of why. It's tightly constructed, perfectly paced and jammed full of little jokes and clever references, hidden details that reward multiple viewings. 1941 is a big, sloppy mess, with a plot that drags on, filled with too many characters to keep track of and a load of needless tangents.
The movie is set just after the Pearl Harbor attack, and the plot revolves around the pervading paranoia in California that the Japanese may be planning an attack on the coast (and, as it turns out, they are). Instead of just zeroing in on one group of characters to see how they react to the situation, the filmmakers opt instead to try to cram in as many different characters as they can possibly imagine might have been involved. There's numerous soldiers, a local family that allows the Army to park a tank in their yard, a bumbling pilot, some supposedly likable young men trying to get laid, a conniving Tim Matheson trying to get laid by Nancy Allen, a submarine full of Japanese, an evil German commander, some locals playing lookout on top of a giant ferris and like a billion other people all vying for a lead role and failing. It's possible, and I'm being generous here, that a few of these characters had some potential for comic shenanigans, if only Spielberg and co. had focused in on them. Instead, no one feels substantial enough in 1941 to make an impact.
Another thing about Back to the Future: it's a charming movie with a lot of likable characters. The characters in 1941 are mostly pains in the ass. I think the film is aiming to make a lot of them lovable, mischievous scamps a la Animal House (hence the presence of John Belushi and Tim Matheson), but they end up coming off as obnoxious dickheads in the vein of Mahoney in Police Academy. Let me give you a for instance. Early in the film, in an attempt to establish a pair of young dorks (who, for a time seem like the main characters until you slowly realize that there are no main characters, only varying degrees of cameos) as likable scamps, there is a whole bit of mischief involving stealing some suits from a department store in order to have nice duds to impress some babes. A pretty basic comedy setup. Problem is, their theoretically hilarious plan to steal the suits involves the dorks setting off a phony air-raid siren in the middle of a crowded department store. Just days after Pearl Harbor.
Think about that shit for a minute. It's like if just a few days after 9/11 some guys pulled the fire alarm in a college dorm and screamed "Al Qaeda!" as a pretext for starting a panty raid. What a couple of assholes. Someone could get hurt.
Most of the scenes in the films are elaborate setups for explosions or car crashes or tank crashes or other such acts of mayhem. The problem is, none of these things are inherently funny. Perhaps the biggest and craziest of all these moments is the finale, when a Japanese submarine attacks an empty amusement park, causing the giant ferris wheel to become unhinged and roll down the boardwalk towards the sea. It's certainly a magnificent sight to behold, and it's energetically staged and clearly and comprehensibly pieced together by Spielberg. But is it funny? Not really.
Most damning to the film, the few moments of mild amusement during 1941 come not because of the elaborate set-pieces, but the occasional charm and wit of the cast. Slim Pickens, playing a farmer abducted by the Japanese, made me smile not so much because he said anything funny, but because he's Slim Pickens and he's likable. Same goes for Dan Ackroyd and Robert Stack. Spielberg and co. blew tens of millions of dollars on elaborate sets and props and special effects, and the only worthwhile parts of the film involve the basic chemistry of the cast.
If you want to get the basic sense of 1941, but you don't want to waste 2 1/2 hours of your life, see if you can just watch the opening. Spielberg attempts to poke a little fun at himself with a Jaws parody. A young, naked woman goes swimming alone. There is ominous music on the soundtrack. Suddenly, something surfaces below her! It's...it's... it's a submarine! And it lifts her up in the air, naked, stuck to a pole. See, the joke is that it's a sub and not a shark. You were expecting a shark because you've seen Jaws, only you're not really expecting a shark because you know you're watching a comedy. It's big, expensive and impressive looking, and never really leads to a solid laugh. That, ladies and gentlemen, is 1941 in a nutshell.
Spielberg may be my least favorite of the directors I'll cover in this column. Which isn't to say I haven't loved a lot of his movies, I am classifying him as a "great director" after all. I just don't think his output has been as consistent as the other directors we've gone over. Wedged in his filmography, between admittedly numerous and noteworthy good and great films, are some unremarkably decent films (Hook, Catch Me If You Can, arguably Minority Report), several mediocre misfires (AI, The Lost World, The Terminal), and a beloved classic that I like but have never been a huge fan of (Jaws). And he has made at least one other irredeemably shitty movie, War of the Worlds, which I seriously considered writing up but had to disqualify because it actually seems to be well liked by the majority of people. Despite the objective fact that it sucks ass. It's probably for the best that I don't write it up; it's such a perfect example of dynamic filmmaking paired with an embarrassingly awful story/script that my post would probably end up too much like my post for What Lies Beneath.
Still, I'm not going to deny that the man is a genius. Even a mediocre Spielberg movie tends to feel like an achievement on a technical level. The man knows how to tell a story visually. My personal favorite of his is probably Munich, because I think it represents the perfect combination of his blockbuster skills (it is a superb thriller) with his artisitc and intellectual sensibilities (it's the most moving and effective movie I've seen about our post-9/11 concerns about war, revenge, terrorism, etc.).
In a four way tie for second place would be the Indiana Jones series, even my least favorite of which kicks the balls off the vast majority of films that pass for "event" movies. (And no, I'm not referring to Crystal Skull as my least favorite, asshole). The rest of his best stuff tends to be a mix of movie magic/delight with strong suspense/thrill-ride overtones (Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Duel, hell even E.T. is kinda intense at times).
I used to be a huge fan of Saving Private Ryan. Over the years I think I've slowly realized that it has a greatly flawed script that relies too much on silly coincidences and the overstatement of dramatic themes, but I still love the performances and the relentlessly intense and convincing staging of the battle scenes.
That's the thing about Spielberg, his best films are just so fucking exciting. Lots of movies, lots of good movies, it's easy to tune out during or not pay close attention to. But when Spielberg is on his game, his movies command your undivided attention. You sit forward in your seat, your heart rate increases, you don't want to miss a second. Maybe sometimes it's just empty spectacle, but when the spectacle is this great why does it need to be anything more?
The problem with 1941 isn't that it's an empty spectacle (although there's no denying that's what it is), it's that it confuses spectacle with comedy. Over and over again. In every scene of the movie. This is a sprawling, nearly 2 1/2 hour long epic WWII comedy with a cast of I'd say at least 20 major characters, but there is scarcely a laugh in it. Where most comedies have jokes, 1941 has explosions and gun fire and large set pieces involving choreographed dance routines and full-scale riots. It's presented in a manner that suggests it's supposed to be funny, but I'll be damned if I could find the humor.
It's perplexing to me that this mess was written by Bob Gale and Robert Zemeckis. They wrote my favorite movie of all time, Back to the Future, and the humor, structure and complexity of its screenplay is a monumental part of why. It's tightly constructed, perfectly paced and jammed full of little jokes and clever references, hidden details that reward multiple viewings. 1941 is a big, sloppy mess, with a plot that drags on, filled with too many characters to keep track of and a load of needless tangents.
The movie is set just after the Pearl Harbor attack, and the plot revolves around the pervading paranoia in California that the Japanese may be planning an attack on the coast (and, as it turns out, they are). Instead of just zeroing in on one group of characters to see how they react to the situation, the filmmakers opt instead to try to cram in as many different characters as they can possibly imagine might have been involved. There's numerous soldiers, a local family that allows the Army to park a tank in their yard, a bumbling pilot, some supposedly likable young men trying to get laid, a conniving Tim Matheson trying to get laid by Nancy Allen, a submarine full of Japanese, an evil German commander, some locals playing lookout on top of a giant ferris and like a billion other people all vying for a lead role and failing. It's possible, and I'm being generous here, that a few of these characters had some potential for comic shenanigans, if only Spielberg and co. had focused in on them. Instead, no one feels substantial enough in 1941 to make an impact.
Another thing about Back to the Future: it's a charming movie with a lot of likable characters. The characters in 1941 are mostly pains in the ass. I think the film is aiming to make a lot of them lovable, mischievous scamps a la Animal House (hence the presence of John Belushi and Tim Matheson), but they end up coming off as obnoxious dickheads in the vein of Mahoney in Police Academy. Let me give you a for instance. Early in the film, in an attempt to establish a pair of young dorks (who, for a time seem like the main characters until you slowly realize that there are no main characters, only varying degrees of cameos) as likable scamps, there is a whole bit of mischief involving stealing some suits from a department store in order to have nice duds to impress some babes. A pretty basic comedy setup. Problem is, their theoretically hilarious plan to steal the suits involves the dorks setting off a phony air-raid siren in the middle of a crowded department store. Just days after Pearl Harbor.
Think about that shit for a minute. It's like if just a few days after 9/11 some guys pulled the fire alarm in a college dorm and screamed "Al Qaeda!" as a pretext for starting a panty raid. What a couple of assholes. Someone could get hurt.
Most of the scenes in the films are elaborate setups for explosions or car crashes or tank crashes or other such acts of mayhem. The problem is, none of these things are inherently funny. Perhaps the biggest and craziest of all these moments is the finale, when a Japanese submarine attacks an empty amusement park, causing the giant ferris wheel to become unhinged and roll down the boardwalk towards the sea. It's certainly a magnificent sight to behold, and it's energetically staged and clearly and comprehensibly pieced together by Spielberg. But is it funny? Not really.
Most damning to the film, the few moments of mild amusement during 1941 come not because of the elaborate set-pieces, but the occasional charm and wit of the cast. Slim Pickens, playing a farmer abducted by the Japanese, made me smile not so much because he said anything funny, but because he's Slim Pickens and he's likable. Same goes for Dan Ackroyd and Robert Stack. Spielberg and co. blew tens of millions of dollars on elaborate sets and props and special effects, and the only worthwhile parts of the film involve the basic chemistry of the cast.
If you want to get the basic sense of 1941, but you don't want to waste 2 1/2 hours of your life, see if you can just watch the opening. Spielberg attempts to poke a little fun at himself with a Jaws parody. A young, naked woman goes swimming alone. There is ominous music on the soundtrack. Suddenly, something surfaces below her! It's...it's... it's a submarine! And it lifts her up in the air, naked, stuck to a pole. See, the joke is that it's a sub and not a shark. You were expecting a shark because you've seen Jaws, only you're not really expecting a shark because you know you're watching a comedy. It's big, expensive and impressive looking, and never really leads to a solid laugh. That, ladies and gentlemen, is 1941 in a nutshell.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Yojimbo
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The main flaw with my K2K is that it hasn't left a lot of room for rewatching movies, which would allow for better analysis. I think once I cease with the constant updating, I'll make an effort to go back and try to look a little deeper at some movies. That's kinda what I meant to do here, although I ended being distracted and not really following it closely. So maybe next time.
The main flaw with my K2K is that it hasn't left a lot of room for rewatching movies, which would allow for better analysis. I think once I cease with the constant updating, I'll make an effort to go back and try to look a little deeper at some movies. That's kinda what I meant to do here, although I ended being distracted and not really following it closely. So maybe next time.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Samurai I: Musashi Miyamoto
Sunday, August 10, 2008
I really need to make "Samurai Movie" a tag on this blog, but I'm too lazy to go through and add it. (Update 7/2/09: No longer too lazy!) I heard good things about this one, and it starred Toshiro Mifune, so I went for it. It's the first entry in a trilogy, I believe loosely based on the real life of a famous swordsman, and it's good enough that I'll probably check the others out some time, though not so much that I'm in any rush to do so. The movie looks good (the colors are especially nice) and is entertaining enough, but isn't on the level of the Kurosawa samurai films I've seen. A little more satisfying than Samurai Rebellion was for me, but not a great movie like I was hoping for.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Samurai Rebellion
Monday, June 23, 2008
I can imagine a dude checking this movie out because of its title, expecting a badass action movie, but finding out that it's really a slow paced drama with a little action at the end. The original title of this one was Rebellion, but I believe distributors changed the title to make it sound more like an action/adventure picture. Which is a shame.
I knew what to expect. I Netflixed this one because I heard it was great, and because I'm loving Toshiro Mifune and wanted to see him in something that wasn't directed by Kurosawa. And also I'm starting to dig samurai films, and I've been watching a lot of Japanese films in general lately.
Strangely enough, I liked the slow buildup a lot more than I liked the more fast paced, action-y final 20 or 30 minutes. I sorta expected the opposite. I thought it had a fairly interesting story (sort of about the politics or governance of Japan in the Edo Period, and how certain events come in the conflict with the values of one family), some pretty b&w photography, a nice visual style (I'm a sucker for those slow zooms or pans towards a character's face as they start to boil under the surface) and good performances. But it fell apart for me when everything comes to a head at the end, especially the final scene, which dragged and didn't have much emotional impact for me.
There are some ideas I like, especially the final duel between two guys who don't particularly want to kill each other, but it all felt flat to me. The emotions don't come across... I guess I was more interested in seeing how this power structure worked than I was in the characters.
So I can give it a thumbs up overall, but I was disappointed and didn't love it like I thought I might.
Seperate thought: I'm trying to figure out what this newfound appeal of samurai movies is to me. I dig action/adventure movies, that's a given, so maybe it's just a desire to branch out in a new direction in that genre? That's probably part of it, but I think I also respect this idea of heroes with a strong moral code, following a belief system. And then, it pretty much always turns out that the system/society is fucked up, and the hero samurai has to rebel or make a stand in order to do the right thing. Or even in something like Seven Samurai, the samurai don't rebel, but the movie is ultimately a criticism of the society they live in. So there's a moral code, but also a strong message of individualism in these movies. Perhaps these messages resonate with me?
I can imagine a dude checking this movie out because of its title, expecting a badass action movie, but finding out that it's really a slow paced drama with a little action at the end. The original title of this one was Rebellion, but I believe distributors changed the title to make it sound more like an action/adventure picture. Which is a shame.
I knew what to expect. I Netflixed this one because I heard it was great, and because I'm loving Toshiro Mifune and wanted to see him in something that wasn't directed by Kurosawa. And also I'm starting to dig samurai films, and I've been watching a lot of Japanese films in general lately.
Strangely enough, I liked the slow buildup a lot more than I liked the more fast paced, action-y final 20 or 30 minutes. I sorta expected the opposite. I thought it had a fairly interesting story (sort of about the politics or governance of Japan in the Edo Period, and how certain events come in the conflict with the values of one family), some pretty b&w photography, a nice visual style (I'm a sucker for those slow zooms or pans towards a character's face as they start to boil under the surface) and good performances. But it fell apart for me when everything comes to a head at the end, especially the final scene, which dragged and didn't have much emotional impact for me.
There are some ideas I like, especially the final duel between two guys who don't particularly want to kill each other, but it all felt flat to me. The emotions don't come across... I guess I was more interested in seeing how this power structure worked than I was in the characters.
So I can give it a thumbs up overall, but I was disappointed and didn't love it like I thought I might.
Seperate thought: I'm trying to figure out what this newfound appeal of samurai movies is to me. I dig action/adventure movies, that's a given, so maybe it's just a desire to branch out in a new direction in that genre? That's probably part of it, but I think I also respect this idea of heroes with a strong moral code, following a belief system. And then, it pretty much always turns out that the system/society is fucked up, and the hero samurai has to rebel or make a stand in order to do the right thing. Or even in something like Seven Samurai, the samurai don't rebel, but the movie is ultimately a criticism of the society they live in. So there's a moral code, but also a strong message of individualism in these movies. Perhaps these messages resonate with me?
Monday, June 16, 2008
Stray Dog
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Well, I'm still dragging my feet on seeing Kurosawa's Ikiru, so here's another more genre-y movie. Not one of Kurosawa's greats, but I still thought really good. It's what I like: a well done crime movie with some classic set pieces, and with a lot more heart/humanity than you'd expect in a movie of it's kind.
Well, I'm still dragging my feet on seeing Kurosawa's Ikiru, so here's another more genre-y movie. Not one of Kurosawa's greats, but I still thought really good. It's what I like: a well done crime movie with some classic set pieces, and with a lot more heart/humanity than you'd expect in a movie of it's kind.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The Hidden Fortress
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I should probably take a break from Kurosawa before I get sick of him, but fuck me if I didn't love this one too. It's another one of his samurai films, with the emphasis here on adventure. It's easy to see why George Lucas cites this as an important influence on Star Wars.
That's actually the reason I was curious to see Hidden Fortress. The main influence seems to come from the "sidekick" characters in this movie, who are clearly the template for C3PO and R2D2. The movie starts from their perspective, eventually meeting up with the real heroes, and then they provide comic relief and running commentary for the rest of the movie. They are both cowardly, constantly bickering with each other, but also kinda lovable... I guess it's more like having two C3POs. And what's great is that even though they ceaselessly argue and fight and chicken out and try to escape or make off with a bunch of money, we love them and are with them every step of the way. Then, meanwhile, we have the rest of gang doing all the real heroics, especially the consummate badass Toshiro Mifune, and being the one's to move the story forward. So now that I think about it, it's basically the Scooby Doo gang: 2 girls and a guy that do all the heroics, and then 2 lovable cowards who steal the spotlight. I wonder if the Hanna Barbera folks were fans of Hidden Fortress.
This is a very entertaining and exciting movie, and more lighthearted than some of the other Kurosawa films I've seen. Not that Seven Samurai or Yojimbo are major bummers, but there is some sadness or darkness under the surface there. Here, the underlying themes are more about friendship and loyalty, and I think the ultimate message is a positive one. In fact, one of the things I love best about Kurosawa that is very much on display in The Hidden Fortress is his humanist approach to his films. He empathizes with everyone, even some of the ostensible villains, and gets you to give a shit about the characters, and by extension the story. It's a sign of Kurosawa's empathy for the characters that the big climax comes about not because of the machinations of the plot, but because of a supporting character's emotional arc. As great as his movies are on a technical level, what's truly special is how he generates excitement by getting you involved with the characters first.
Of course, the movie is just plain exciting on an action/adventure level too. We get a lot of chases, sneaking past the enemy, clever ruses, an awesome sword-fight on horseback, a duel with spears, and more. There's one part where the heroes are escaping from the bad guys, and Mifune is riding off on his horse and reaches out his hand and effortlessly scoops on one of his companions and puts her on the back of the horse that made me want to cheer because it was so perfect and exhilarating.
I'm thinking if I watch more Kurosawa soon, I should try something that's not a genre film. Which makes me a little nervous, because as I've said before, what I like about him is how he makes an incredible, entertaining genre flick and then imbues it with depth and heart and empathy. Will I want to see a straight up drama from him? I mean, take for example John Carpenter or James Cameron... two of my favorite directors, but I'm not sure I'd want to see a subdued character piece from either one of them. But Kurosawa's earned more than enough good faith at this point... and I hear great things about Ikiru.
Oh. One last thing. Apparently the real title for this one is something closer to The Three Villains of the Hidden Fortress... maybe I missed something, or maybe I'm just an idiot, because I cannot figure out who the three villains would be.
I should probably take a break from Kurosawa before I get sick of him, but fuck me if I didn't love this one too. It's another one of his samurai films, with the emphasis here on adventure. It's easy to see why George Lucas cites this as an important influence on Star Wars.
That's actually the reason I was curious to see Hidden Fortress. The main influence seems to come from the "sidekick" characters in this movie, who are clearly the template for C3PO and R2D2. The movie starts from their perspective, eventually meeting up with the real heroes, and then they provide comic relief and running commentary for the rest of the movie. They are both cowardly, constantly bickering with each other, but also kinda lovable... I guess it's more like having two C3POs. And what's great is that even though they ceaselessly argue and fight and chicken out and try to escape or make off with a bunch of money, we love them and are with them every step of the way. Then, meanwhile, we have the rest of gang doing all the real heroics, especially the consummate badass Toshiro Mifune, and being the one's to move the story forward. So now that I think about it, it's basically the Scooby Doo gang: 2 girls and a guy that do all the heroics, and then 2 lovable cowards who steal the spotlight. I wonder if the Hanna Barbera folks were fans of Hidden Fortress.
This is a very entertaining and exciting movie, and more lighthearted than some of the other Kurosawa films I've seen. Not that Seven Samurai or Yojimbo are major bummers, but there is some sadness or darkness under the surface there. Here, the underlying themes are more about friendship and loyalty, and I think the ultimate message is a positive one. In fact, one of the things I love best about Kurosawa that is very much on display in The Hidden Fortress is his humanist approach to his films. He empathizes with everyone, even some of the ostensible villains, and gets you to give a shit about the characters, and by extension the story. It's a sign of Kurosawa's empathy for the characters that the big climax comes about not because of the machinations of the plot, but because of a supporting character's emotional arc. As great as his movies are on a technical level, what's truly special is how he generates excitement by getting you involved with the characters first.
Of course, the movie is just plain exciting on an action/adventure level too. We get a lot of chases, sneaking past the enemy, clever ruses, an awesome sword-fight on horseback, a duel with spears, and more. There's one part where the heroes are escaping from the bad guys, and Mifune is riding off on his horse and reaches out his hand and effortlessly scoops on one of his companions and puts her on the back of the horse that made me want to cheer because it was so perfect and exhilarating.
I'm thinking if I watch more Kurosawa soon, I should try something that's not a genre film. Which makes me a little nervous, because as I've said before, what I like about him is how he makes an incredible, entertaining genre flick and then imbues it with depth and heart and empathy. Will I want to see a straight up drama from him? I mean, take for example John Carpenter or James Cameron... two of my favorite directors, but I'm not sure I'd want to see a subdued character piece from either one of them. But Kurosawa's earned more than enough good faith at this point... and I hear great things about Ikiru.
Oh. One last thing. Apparently the real title for this one is something closer to The Three Villains of the Hidden Fortress... maybe I missed something, or maybe I'm just an idiot, because I cannot figure out who the three villains would be.
Monday, May 19, 2008
High and Low
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Back again with more Kurosawa, and it's another winner. I'm starting to fall in love here. This is the 4th one of his I've watched for my K2K, and my 6th overall, and it's another masterpiece. I'm starting to feel that personal connection to these movies that you get with directors that you love, like how I feel about John Carpenter's movies or Richard Linklater's or Robert Zemeckis's, etc etc, which must mean that Kurosawa is becoming one of my favorites. I suspect he's going to join the pantheon of directors where I'll just have to see all of his movies, and even the ones that maybe aren't as good will still be interesting and worthwhile for me.
I think the key is that, from what I've seen, Kurosawa tends to make my favorite kind of movie. Namely, marvelously entertaining genre films that could just be watched for fun, but that contain deep, powerful themes and emotions just under the surface. Actually, what we have here is an affecting drama/morality play about a kidnapping that turns into a compelling police procedural, but boiling underneath it all is a powerful story about class conflict (hence the title). And you gotta love the complexity with which the themes are explored. The villain lives in squalor and is motivated by his hatred for the lead character's wealth... his large house sits atop the hill and almost seems to be looking down on the villain. But the lead character isn't just some rich asshole, it turns out he started from humble beginnings and worked his way to the top. He seems kind of like an asshole at times, but we understand his motivation and ultimately, when faced with a tough moral choice, he makes the right call.
I think the movie makes a pretty honest approach to the material, being careful to show the luxory of the upper-class, then the working class policemen (they have one small fan cooling them off at a meeting on a very hot day), before taking us on a terrifying tour of a slum filled with heroin addicts.
So I'm not sure if there's a message here as much as there is observation. We see how the economic backgrounds of the characters effect their actions, and really their basic natures. It's the subtext of nearly every scene in the movie, from the motivation of the kidnapper, to the father furious with his child for not remembering some crucial information that he saw.
Looks like Andy just rented Hidden Fortress, which I have read was a major influence on Star Wars. So I'll probably be watching it soon, whether Shenan wants to or not.
Back again with more Kurosawa, and it's another winner. I'm starting to fall in love here. This is the 4th one of his I've watched for my K2K, and my 6th overall, and it's another masterpiece. I'm starting to feel that personal connection to these movies that you get with directors that you love, like how I feel about John Carpenter's movies or Richard Linklater's or Robert Zemeckis's, etc etc, which must mean that Kurosawa is becoming one of my favorites. I suspect he's going to join the pantheon of directors where I'll just have to see all of his movies, and even the ones that maybe aren't as good will still be interesting and worthwhile for me.
I think the key is that, from what I've seen, Kurosawa tends to make my favorite kind of movie. Namely, marvelously entertaining genre films that could just be watched for fun, but that contain deep, powerful themes and emotions just under the surface. Actually, what we have here is an affecting drama/morality play about a kidnapping that turns into a compelling police procedural, but boiling underneath it all is a powerful story about class conflict (hence the title). And you gotta love the complexity with which the themes are explored. The villain lives in squalor and is motivated by his hatred for the lead character's wealth... his large house sits atop the hill and almost seems to be looking down on the villain. But the lead character isn't just some rich asshole, it turns out he started from humble beginnings and worked his way to the top. He seems kind of like an asshole at times, but we understand his motivation and ultimately, when faced with a tough moral choice, he makes the right call.
I think the movie makes a pretty honest approach to the material, being careful to show the luxory of the upper-class, then the working class policemen (they have one small fan cooling them off at a meeting on a very hot day), before taking us on a terrifying tour of a slum filled with heroin addicts.
So I'm not sure if there's a message here as much as there is observation. We see how the economic backgrounds of the characters effect their actions, and really their basic natures. It's the subtext of nearly every scene in the movie, from the motivation of the kidnapper, to the father furious with his child for not remembering some crucial information that he saw.
Looks like Andy just rented Hidden Fortress, which I have read was a major influence on Star Wars. So I'll probably be watching it soon, whether Shenan wants to or not.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sanjuro
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Not nearly as awesome as Yojimbo, but still pretty sweet. Toshiro Mifune is up to his old tricks again, including the one where he kills a bunch of guys and then convinces their boss that someone else did it. This time he has a whole gang of incompetent samurai in tow, and it gives the cranky ronin an excuse to always have people around to insult.
This one feels a little lighter than the first one, and maybe a little more straightforward and uncomplicated. Just some light fun. But then it builds up to an unexpected emotional payoff that fleshes the movie out a little more, maybe deepens the themes a bit. Has me excited to see more Kurosawa.
Not nearly as awesome as Yojimbo, but still pretty sweet. Toshiro Mifune is up to his old tricks again, including the one where he kills a bunch of guys and then convinces their boss that someone else did it. This time he has a whole gang of incompetent samurai in tow, and it gives the cranky ronin an excuse to always have people around to insult.
This one feels a little lighter than the first one, and maybe a little more straightforward and uncomplicated. Just some light fun. But then it builds up to an unexpected emotional payoff that fleshes the movie out a little more, maybe deepens the themes a bit. Has me excited to see more Kurosawa.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Yojimbo
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Bonafide badass.
After the disappointment and disinterest I felt watching The Birds, this one picked my spirits right up. I'm gonna go ahead and say that this has become my favorite Kurosawa film (and it's got me stoked to see more), and not because of the beauty of it's images or the depth of emotions, but because it is one holy shit hot damn entertaining film. I might need to get myself a copy at some point.
Of course, A Fistful of Dollars was an unofficial remake of this, and I like it quite a bit, but this one is way better. This one is an action movie masterpiece. It came 3 years earlier, but it feels way more advanced, clever, fresh and funny. I'm thinking maybe Leone got better by exploring his own ideas, rather than rehashing what Kurosawa did here.
The best part of Yojimbo is its hero, a samurai who wanders aimlessly into a small town and decides, just for the hell of it, that he's going to completely destroy the two rival gans that control the town, all by himself. And the movie is all about the kind of crazy shenigans he pulls in order to escalate the gang war and get everyone to kill each other off. Like at one part, he runs into a house and kills 6 gang members in about 30 seconds. Then, after they are all dead, he trashes the place. When their companions show up, he says that he found them all their dead, and that the place is so badly damaged that it must have been the work of at least 15 or 16 men. What a badass.
So, this one has a sequel called Sanjuro, and you can bet I'll be watching it soon.
Bonafide badass.
After the disappointment and disinterest I felt watching The Birds, this one picked my spirits right up. I'm gonna go ahead and say that this has become my favorite Kurosawa film (and it's got me stoked to see more), and not because of the beauty of it's images or the depth of emotions, but because it is one holy shit hot damn entertaining film. I might need to get myself a copy at some point.
Of course, A Fistful of Dollars was an unofficial remake of this, and I like it quite a bit, but this one is way better. This one is an action movie masterpiece. It came 3 years earlier, but it feels way more advanced, clever, fresh and funny. I'm thinking maybe Leone got better by exploring his own ideas, rather than rehashing what Kurosawa did here.
The best part of Yojimbo is its hero, a samurai who wanders aimlessly into a small town and decides, just for the hell of it, that he's going to completely destroy the two rival gans that control the town, all by himself. And the movie is all about the kind of crazy shenigans he pulls in order to escalate the gang war and get everyone to kill each other off. Like at one part, he runs into a house and kills 6 gang members in about 30 seconds. Then, after they are all dead, he trashes the place. When their companions show up, he says that he found them all their dead, and that the place is so badly damaged that it must have been the work of at least 15 or 16 men. What a badass.
So, this one has a sequel called Sanjuro, and you can bet I'll be watching it soon.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Seven Samurai
Monday, January 21, 2008
Yeah, that's right, naysayers. I'm demonstrating an honest to fucking goodness Kommitment to Klassiks here watching Seven Samurai, a legit klassik. No strings attached. It's not some weird genre film I'm counting because one guy told me it was good. This one is a recognized, consensus-agreed upon masterpiece. And I am so god damned Kommitted to Klassiks that I was willing to devote 3 1/2 hours of my life to it.
That's something I've noticed, by the way. A lot of these beloved motion pictures require a pretty serious chunk of your time. And that can be hard to do sometimes, you know, when you're tired after work and you're not sure you have that long of an attention span. Or that you want to spend every free minute on the weekend with your girlfriend, and she's maybe not interested in seeing a 3 1/2 black and white, subtitled movie without hardly any female characters in it.
Well, to get used to this, I thought I'd just right in and watch the one on my queue that was the longest, and Seven Samurai it was.
Then I realized that Lawrence of Arabia is 20 minutes longer. Mother fucking Peter O'Toole.
Oh yeah, I was actually going to say something about this one. The reputation is earned, this is a great film. An epic done right. A long, but entertaining journey that builds to a powerful conclusion. As opposed to a long and tedious epic journey that has 20 endings too many and then ends with a bunch of hobbits hugging each other.
It's a lot more cynical about human nature and society than I really was expecting. We think of the Japanese as maybe putting the society's interests over the individual, but Seven Samurai seems to argue against that. The samurai risk their lives to save a bunch of villagers for no better reason than it's the honorable thing to do, and maybe because they like to fight. The villages treat the samurai like shit even though they are relying on them for help, and they are shown as prone to mob mentality. In the end, by following their code, the samurai fight off the enemy, lose 4 of their 7 and... and what? They don't gain anything from it, the villages still won't mingle with them. The victory is short lived.
Well, I had thought maybe this one would have a happy ending. Guess not.
This isn't exactly a movie I'd watch all the time, but the greatness is evident. The story is long and complex, but it flows well because of the memorable characters. You know, again, kind of exactly what the Lord of the Rings movies failed at. Here, I especially liked this Toshiro Mifune individual, who plays some impulsive, reckless weirdo who isn't really a samurai, but pretends he is. It's such a unique, bizarre, energetic, spirited, etc performance in the middle of this big epic.
So this is I think the 3rd Kurosawa film I've seen in my life, and I am definitely planning on seeing some more. Also, I might try more of Mifune's movies... I hear he's a pretty reliable badass.
Yeah, that's right, naysayers. I'm demonstrating an honest to fucking goodness Kommitment to Klassiks here watching Seven Samurai, a legit klassik. No strings attached. It's not some weird genre film I'm counting because one guy told me it was good. This one is a recognized, consensus-agreed upon masterpiece. And I am so god damned Kommitted to Klassiks that I was willing to devote 3 1/2 hours of my life to it.
That's something I've noticed, by the way. A lot of these beloved motion pictures require a pretty serious chunk of your time. And that can be hard to do sometimes, you know, when you're tired after work and you're not sure you have that long of an attention span. Or that you want to spend every free minute on the weekend with your girlfriend, and she's maybe not interested in seeing a 3 1/2 black and white, subtitled movie without hardly any female characters in it.
Well, to get used to this, I thought I'd just right in and watch the one on my queue that was the longest, and Seven Samurai it was.
Then I realized that Lawrence of Arabia is 20 minutes longer. Mother fucking Peter O'Toole.
Oh yeah, I was actually going to say something about this one. The reputation is earned, this is a great film. An epic done right. A long, but entertaining journey that builds to a powerful conclusion. As opposed to a long and tedious epic journey that has 20 endings too many and then ends with a bunch of hobbits hugging each other.
It's a lot more cynical about human nature and society than I really was expecting. We think of the Japanese as maybe putting the society's interests over the individual, but Seven Samurai seems to argue against that. The samurai risk their lives to save a bunch of villagers for no better reason than it's the honorable thing to do, and maybe because they like to fight. The villages treat the samurai like shit even though they are relying on them for help, and they are shown as prone to mob mentality. In the end, by following their code, the samurai fight off the enemy, lose 4 of their 7 and... and what? They don't gain anything from it, the villages still won't mingle with them. The victory is short lived.
Well, I had thought maybe this one would have a happy ending. Guess not.
This isn't exactly a movie I'd watch all the time, but the greatness is evident. The story is long and complex, but it flows well because of the memorable characters. You know, again, kind of exactly what the Lord of the Rings movies failed at. Here, I especially liked this Toshiro Mifune individual, who plays some impulsive, reckless weirdo who isn't really a samurai, but pretends he is. It's such a unique, bizarre, energetic, spirited, etc performance in the middle of this big epic.
So this is I think the 3rd Kurosawa film I've seen in my life, and I am definitely planning on seeing some more. Also, I might try more of Mifune's movies... I hear he's a pretty reliable badass.
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