The Midnight Diaries of Catty Wampus

quick movie review: “The Breakfast Club”

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Friday, August 8th, 2008

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

There’s a lot to like about The Breakfast Club, I swear there is. But there’s something about it that just doesn’t allow me to get close enough to enjoy it fully. I think a lot of it has to do with John Hughes, who seems like he can almost write a great script, and almost direct a great movie.

I recently got to see The Breakfast Club on the big screen, and I noticed some things about the movie I had never really seen before despite having watched it maybe a dozen times on television and my laptop. The framing of characters in a scene, and the editing between each shot were much more noticeable on the big screen–sometimes it was distracting, but a lot of the time it did a lot to enhance the movie. It made me think about all of the movies that get seen on tv and computer screens, not to mention on portable DVD players, iPod, and cell phones.

When DVDs first came out, many of them had the option to watch movies in widescreen format, rationalizing that the wide aspect ratio was how the director originally intended the movie to be seen. (yes, I can hear the A/V nerds out there grumbling that laserdiscs and even some VHS tapes had widescreen before DVDs ever came along, but I believe that widescreen-awareness really flourished with the advent of DVD–so there) But that just accounts for the shape that directors intended for their films. There’s still the issue of size, and it’s not an insignificant issue. Even a movie that isn’t meant to be full of stunning visuals, like The Breakfast Club has a lot more presence when seen at “actual size.”

All I’m saying is that I can’t wait to get a digital projector for my home.

The storytelling in The Breakfast Club, at any size, feels a little disjointed. I don’t quite buy the progression of the characters relationships with each other. It often feels like the movie has had some bit of development edited out of it and we’re only seeing the aftermath: now the characters are feeling closer emotionally, and now they are very cold towards each other, all without any real clues as to why. The exception to this comes in a conversation near the end of the film, when we do get some really great emotional connection, but it doesn’t feel quite deserved. As an audience we go along with it because we feel the movie is asking us nicely, not because it feels natural.

Other random thoughts about the movie include:

Am I the only person who doesn’t find Anthony Michael Hall’s scratchy black guy voice funny? I mean, John Hughes has included it in three of his movies and it does nothing but get on my nerves. It’s not even a good imitation of someone doing a bad imitation of a black guy. It’s just bad. I mean, isn’t it?

Speaking of things that John Hughes puts in his movies, between this and Sixteen Candles, there are two really interesting appearances of sushi. It’s difficult to remember a time when sushi wasn’t accepted and found everywhere in the United States. There are even some grocery stores that make a decent sushi roll. But in the 1980’s, John Hughes was able to present a person eating sushi as a way of indicating that they were a bit stuck up and full of themselves (as in The Breakfast Club), or simply quirky and wacky and willing to do something as woo-woo crazy as eating raw fish and seaweed (as in Sixteen Candles). It’s interesting to note that sushi in a movie today hardly has any statement to make at all.

As a fan of the television series The West Wing, I find it incredible to see the similarities in acting choices and facial gestures made by Emilio Estevez and his dad. Emilio Estevez seriously looks exactly like a young Martin Sheen. Curiously, a young Martin Sheen looks like a young Charlie Sheen.

This isn’t my own observation, but it bears noting: The Breakfast Club contains one of the most egregious demonstrations of “Marijuana makes you go crazy” propaganda since Reefer Madness. It’s impossible to believe that no one on the set of a Hollywood movie had ever smoked pot before, so you just have to imagine that there were many crew members (and perhaps even actors and the director) filming Emilio Estevez’s scene thinking “This is sooooo not what pot makes you do.” I’m not advocating or disadvocating drug use here, but seriously… that scene is a bit more than ridiculous.

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quick movie review: “Boogie Nights”

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Friday, April 11th, 2008

BOOGIE NIGHTS

Some of you may remember Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch. Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch were a hip-hop group from the early 1990’s, their most prominent hit being “Good Vibrations” (having nothing to do with the Beach Boys), and they followed that up with a piercing song of social commentary using samples from Lou Reed’s “Walk On The Wild Side.” Marky Mark was a very attractive young man (as a matter of fact, he also modeled underwear for Calvin Klein), and most of the world saw him as a better-than-Vanilla-Ice white rapper.

A few years later, Marky Mark began appearing in movies using his real name: Mark Wahlberg. I remember when The Basketball Diaries and Boogie Nights came out, there were choruses of “You mean… it stars Marky Mark???”

If you were either too young or too old to be aware of Marky Mark at the height of his popularity, you will only know Mark Wahlberg a very talented actor with a bit of cocktail-party trivia surrounding him about his former music career. Those of us who were coming of age in 1992, however, mostly have to do a quick brain check every time we see him in a movie. The actor side of him still doesn’t fully compute for me; there is at least a split-second when I say “Holy crap, it’s Marky Mark!”

This sort of mind shift isn’t rare, of course. It happens often when singers or actors get into government. Sonny Bono, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Clint Eastwood–and of course, the king of all actor-turned-politicians: Ronald Reagan. I can only imagine a 45 year-old in 1981 trying to reconcile the matinee movie idol of her youth with the man taking an oath to become President of the United States. It messes with your head a little.

That’s what I start thinking about every time I watch Boogie Nights. It’s a little unfair to the movie, because it has so many other attributes deserving of praise. This is a top-notch movie from a top-notch writer/director with a top-notch cast. Every scene is so artful and fully-realized. This is the movie that really launched P.T. Anderson into the public eye. He had only one other movie under his belt at the time (Sydney), and only three films later he brought home a Best Picture Oscar for There Will Be Blood. We’ll talk more about my P.T. Anderson love-fest when I get around to reviewing Magnolia.

Speaking of the cast, I wonder what connections P.T. Anderson has with David Mamet. Not only does the dialogue occasionally wander into clipped Mametian repetitiveness, many of the actors (particularly William H. Macy, John C. Reilly, and Ricky Jay) have been confederates of David Mamet for over a decade. There must be some kind of connection, mustn’t there?

And while I’m mentioning John C. Reilly, I have to tell you how hilarious he is in this movie! I really have to marvel at his skill for portraying his character as over-the-top, just threatening to break you out of the movie but never allowing things to get that self-aware. It’s really such a fine line, and he treats it like a master.

One of the most striking things about this movie is the use of music. I know that pop music has been used in films for a long time, but it feels like Anderson tweaks the formula here. I was surprised that I didn’t remember the opening of this movie: an overture while the screen stays black. It’s a somber piece that takes its time to breathe and cast a shadow the entire film; even more effective is the contrast of the music that explodes the screen into light and color a minute and a half later.

Near the end of the film, without giving anything away, there’s another beautiful pop song from the 1960’s that plays in the foreground of a lot of action and dialogue–and it suits the mood and the story so perfectly that the song is forever tied to this film in my mind now. I’ve noticed many television shows in the past decade have episodes that end with a pop song summing up the contents of the last hour or half-hour. It’s a device I can’t recall having been used in any movies or television shows prior to 1998 or thereabouts. (though I’m nearly certain there will be a comment or two to prove me dead wrong) I won’t speculate that P.T. Anderson innovated this entire phenomenon, but I feel like Boogie Nights was among the first trend-setters.

This is a really tough movie to talk about without giving too much away. But if you haven’t seen it, you deserve to go in cold and let it wash over you. So I’m going to sign off with this somewhat cryptic notion: At the end of the day, this is a movie about family that you shouldn’t take your family to.

Enjoy!

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quick movie review: “The Big Lebowski”

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Friday, February 29th, 2008

THE BIG LEBOWSKI

In 1998 a friend said “Eric, I just saw the most awesome movie! I want to take you to see it–what are you doing on Saturday night?” He was bursting to tell me all about this incredible new movie, and it took all of his restraint to keep from blabbing about it before we got to the theater.

When Saturday finally arrived, he drove me to the movie theater: a small, independent movie house I’d driven by but had never entered. But when we looked on the marquis the title of the movie wasn’t there. Undeterred, we marched inside and my friend asked if The Big Lebowski was still playing.

“No,” said the young woman behind the counter. “That was here last week. This week we’re showing Love and Death on Long Island.”

My friend looked confused.

“We change movies every week,” said the woman.

I wasn’t terribly surprised by my friend’s lack of planning. It would have taken only a moment to check the newspaper and see if the movie was still playing here, but that wasn’t his style. And now, since we were left with a Saturday night on our hands, we stood in front of the theater’s lone employee debating about whether to go home or see Love And Death On Long Island, which we had never heard of.

“You guys can go in for free if you want,” said the young woman. “There’s nobody here in the audience–looks like we weren’t going to sell any tickets for it anyway.”

That was all the enticement we needed. My friend and I went into the theater to watch Love And Death On Long Island, and that is how The Big Lebowski led me to my first independent film and opened my eyes to possibilities of cinema that went beyond the Lethal Weapon, Top Gun, and Dead Poet’s Society type of mainstream movies I had known exclusively until then.

But we’re here to talk about the movie, of course. My friend and I eventually made it to a showing of the The Big Lebowski later in the week. I remember enjoying it–particularly because the characters were unlike any I had seen on film before. (I don’t think I’d seen any Coen Brothers movies before this one) I also remember being confused by a lot of the plot’s twists and turns. Having seen the film at least a dozen times now, I find it difficult to recapture that first-time feeling of “What the hell is going on???” and, frankly, I don’t miss it. I enjoy so many other aspects of the movie now.

In particular, I love Jeff Bridges’s performance. At the time I was watching The Big Lebowski repeatedly, I was also watching The Fisher King. Seeing these two movies back to back gives a great perspective for Bridges’s talent at creating a character. I was inspired to see more of his work, but I found that he is often cast as pretty much a regular guy in many films, and in those roles I just don’t find him as captivating. I don’t know whether it’s the directors that push him further or don’t push him far enough, or whether the material simply isn’t enough to sink his teeth into sometimes, but I only rarely see Jeff Bridges shine in a role the way that he can. When he’s good he’s acceptable; but when he’s great, he’s amazing.

Another thing I love about The Big Lebowski is the dialogue. I’m a sucker for well-done stylized writing, and this movie has got it in spades. Unlike other Coen Brothers films (I’ve seen more now, and they are almost always wonderful), this film seems to have a kind of Vocabularic Claustrophobia. Words and phrases end up in other characters’ mouths, and even small nuances of expressions travel like a contagious virus.

Linguists have a tool called a concordance, which is essentially a catalogue of every word used in a body of work, and each word’s frequency and context. Want to know how many times the Bible uses the word “salt”? Look it up in a Biblical concordance. Want to know where and how often the word “tree” occurs in the works of Shakespeare? A Shakespearean concordance can lead you to the answer.

I’d be curious to see a Big Lebowski Concordance, an to compare the number of unique words with the number of unique words in any other typical contemporary film. I’d place my money on a significantly smaller percentage of unique words showing up in The Big Lebowski than almost any other movie you care to put against it.

Finally, I have to mention the cultural phenomenon that The Big Lebowski has become. The movie is a cult hit, its lines are quoted by the devout, and there are even Lebowski conventions. And I have to say, I don’t really get it. I mean, it’s a good movie–but what has inspired such an enthusiastic and on-going response? Is it the pot? I mean, I have to assume that it’s the pot.

I’ll leave that analysis for another time (or perhaps for the comments section, if anyone cares to theorize), and sign off until the next movie review–one which will involve a movie that, along with The Big Lebowski, helped me see Philip Seymour Hoffman as the same type of chameleon actor that Jeff Bridges is.

Stay tuned!

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quick movie review: “Beverly Hills Cop”

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Saturday, February 2nd, 2008

BEVERLY HILLS COP

The heat is on, y’all!

If you’re a few years younger than I am, then you don’t remember what kind of hold Beverly Hills Cop had on the nation in 1984. So let me tell you it was huge, dude.

You wanna talk about just the soundtrack alone? Kenny Loggins’s “The Heat Is On” and The Pointer Sisters’ “Neutron Dance” (I still don’t know what a “neutron” dance is) open up the movie. “The Heat Is On” kicks in with the Eighties-est saxaphone you’ve ever heard over scenes of urban Detroit in the midst of summer. Moments later, after a brief introduction with Eddie Murphy, there’s a high speed truck chase to the tunes of “The Neutron Dance”–a song that I believe was solely responsible for resurrecting the careers of the Pointer Sisters, who are supposed to have been some kind of hit in the disco era, but I’ve never heard any of their songs so how famous could they have been?

And then there’s Axel F. Check this out: every third kid in America learned how to play Axel F on the piano that year. Kids who didn’t know how to play anything else on the piano, kids who had never touched a piano before learned how to play Axel F. And if you don’t believe me, have a look at the co-worker on your left and on your right. One of them can play Axel F, I guarantee it. And if neither of them can, that means that you are the one who learned how to play Axel F way back in ‘84. Go ahead, try to deny it.

The movie’s opening truck chase includes a lot of smashed cars and even an explosion or two. This isn’t so surprising when you note that the movie was produced by Jerry Bruckheimer, a man who is known for big explosions and large things smashing into each other. It was a bit shocking, now in 2008, to see his name pop up in the credits. Who knew he’d been producing that long? Must have been a young buck back then.

Bruckheimer isn’t the only name that you’ll be surprised to find here. My DVD cover promises cameos by Paul Riser, Bronson Pinchot, and Damon Wayans. I think “cameos” is a bit of a retrofitted word here–chances are that you didn’t know who any of them were. It was years before Mad About You, Perfect Strangers, and In Living Color would hit the air. But there they all are, chewing the scenery with Eddie Murphy.

Eddie Murphy, by the way, is in top form here. I don’t know what’s been going on with him during these last few movies (Norbit was a nominee in a ton of categories t this year’s Razzie awards)–and to be honest, even The Nutty Professor isn’t my cup of tea. But Beverly Hills Cop shows off his incredible comedy chops, and even his ability to reign himself in for more serious scenes.

That’s right. Despite that opening truck chase, this movie is not simply non-stop action or non-stop comedy. There’s a quite a bit of well-used silence and emotion here. It feels somehow a little more “real” than a lot of the comedy blockbusters I’ve seen lately. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is, but I think that it has something to do with characters that have a bit more depth than I’m used to in this kind of movie. Eddie Murphy underplays a lot of his more quiet moments, and I think that gives his character a lot more sympathy. I’m contrasting this with the over-the-top brooding of someone like Mel Gibson in the Lethal Weapon series, or the I’m-just-an-angry-jerk-who-doesn’t-play-by-the-rules cop given to us by Nick Nolte in 48 Hours.

Incidentally, Beverly Hills Cop was one of my big introductions to Hollywood Trickery. When I was nine or ten, I was watching our family’s copy of the movie on VHS for the seventy-third time. I got to the scene where Axel approaches Victor Maitland at Maitland’s private club. One of Maitland’s hired goons tries to confront Axel, but Axel throws him over a buffet table.

Except that Axel doesn’t throw him over a buffet table. Check it out:

Who the heck is that linebacker player dressed like Eddie Murphy??

I don’t know why I hadn’t caught it all of the other times I’d seen the movie–it seems to glaringly obvious now.

At the time I felt really clever for having caught on to the film editor’s clever ruse. But now when I see it, I just think “Gee, could they not find anybody that even closely resembles Eddie Murphy? This stuntman’s qualifications seem to be 1) He’s black and 2) he’s got a mustache.” I mean, even though it’s a pretty quick shot it’s still on screen for a pretty long time.

That one revelation at age 12 has made me keep an open eye for other stunt doubles who don’t quite match the lead actors and actresses they’re meant to resemble. It can a fun game to play when you’re watching any of your favorite action movies.

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quick movie review: “Batman Begins”

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Saturday, January 5th, 2008

BATMAN BEGINS

I was never a huge comics person when I was growing up. But there was a short time in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s when I was pretty heavily into Batman.

I know that there’s a divide between the Marvel Universe and the DC Universe, and each side has its supporters and its detractors. But a much more interesting dichotomy, to me, always seemed to be the choice between Batman and Superman.

Superman was the kind of guy you could get into if you were really into the fantasy of comics–the ability to change reality in any way possible, resulting in special powers and all kinds of crazy mythology about radioactive rocks and other planets and stuff like that. Which is fine, if that’s what you’re into.

I always gravitated more towards Batman, who erred a little more on the side of magic realism: he lived in the real world and was bound by our rules. He was just a guy. Even most of his enemies were just regular men and women, enhanced only a little to make them colorful. (yes, I know that Batman went through all kinds of eras, but the Batman I was familiar with was pretty dark and earth-bound in his reality)

Of course I saw Tim Burton’s Batman movie when it came out, and I remember how everyone loved it. “This is just how Batman should be,” they said. But I think that we were all taken in by the glossy production value and the artistic direction that Tim Burton and his team came up with. It was certainly original, but something inside told me that it simply wasn’t the Batman I knew and loved. I was still waiting for that Batman to show up on film. The next three Batman movies only pushed further away from my ideal.

Then along comes Christopher Nolan and Batman Begins. Now, I won’t say that this movie is perfect–but this is a Batman who is much closer to the Batman I know and love. This Batman is earth-bound, based in reality, and even wears his flaws pretty openly. It makes him much more human, and that’s what I want from my superheros: deep and flawed humanity.

I also really enjoy the fact that if you didn’t know what movie you were watching for the first hour, you never really have any clue that this is going to turn into a Batman movie. I think that takes real patience and guts from Nolan as a storyteller. The audience sits and asks “Where’s the dude with the cape and the ears??” and Nolan responds “We’ll get there, but this stuff is important to know first. Trust me. We’ll get there.”

I love the movie for all of that.

Still, there are some blockbuster elements that I just can’t get on board with.

One of those elements is the fight scenes. Not to say that this is Christopher Nolan’s fault, but I hardly think I’ve ever seen a fight scene where I could really follow the action in a clear and plot-driven way. It usually ends up looking like a well-edited cluster-eff, and my brain just has to tune out and say “There’s fighting happening. This is the part of the story where there’s fighting. Just wait until it’s over to learn who the winner of the fight is, and then the story can continue.”

(one notable exception to this sort of generic fight scene would be Fight Club, which we’ll get to later on in these reviews)

The other big blockbuster trend that Batman Begins runs rampant with is the repeated line of dialogue. I would imagine that this gimmick has an actual name among writers, and if anyone out there knows what it is I’d be interested to learn. You’ve seen it over and over: a character will say a line early in a movie only to have that line said back to the character later on in the movie, this time with deeper meaning and probably a dramatic swell of music. Most movies do this sort of thing once, or maybe twice throughout the film, but Batman Begins must have at least five or six of them. It’s conspicuous, and so it kind of takes me out of the movie a little.

I like Batman Begins, and I’m looking forward to the next film in the series. But there’s something about it that still doesn’t get Batman quite right. It’s close, but I’m still holding out for the perfect Batman movie.

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quick movie review: “Bamboozled”

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Friday, January 4th, 2008

BAMBOOZLED

Bamboozled was the first Spike Lee movie I ever saw. I don’t know how I steered clear of him until the early months of 2001. Maybe I thought that his movies would simply carry the message “racism is bad.” It was a message I was already aware of, and simply showing blacks enduring (or overcoming) racism doesn’t really add to the discussion. Shame on me for not having more faith in the man.

I probably would have stayed away from Bamboozled, too, if it weren’t for a trailer that I caught before whatever film I had gone to see at the time. When the trailer began, I merely thought “Oh, okay. Another Spike Lee movie. I probably won’t see it. Not really interested.” And then the movie screen was filled with singers and dancers in blackface, shuckin’ and jivin’ and hoofin’, dressed in Aunt Jemima and Uncle Tom costumes, prancing around an Alabama backwoods log cabin in the middle of a watermelon patch. To say that the film now had my attention would be an understatement. I was transfixed. “What the fuck is this??”

I won’t tell you any more about the plot then that. I’ll simply say that it was enough to convince me to buy a ticket when Bamboozled opened at my local movie theater. I am glad I did.

Bamboozled represents three revelations to me. Three things I was previously unaware of but could easily turn zealous about.

Revelation #1: Savion Glover

This man is amazing. I think I had been tangentially familiar with him here and there, but never more than to say “Hey, that’s a good tap dancer!” The several times I’d seen him on television, I might not have even recognized it was the same guy. So I really count Bamboozled as the first time I seriously took notice of Savion. Watching tap dancing has always been interesting to me–men and women creating syncopated rhythms with their feet, doing tricks, sliding on their toes, spinning around–I grew up at a time when Gregory Hines was a pretty big star, after all. But Savion brings something to tap that I’ve never seen. His dancing is very self-contained, and seems to come from so deep within him. This isn’t a knock on other talented dancers, but when you see Savion Glover dance, you’ll know what I’m talking about. (I had the good fortune to see Savion live a few years ago–I wrote a little about it back in this post)

Revelation #2: Mos Def
The Mighty Mos Def. He played sidekick to Bill Cosby on the short-lived television series The Cosby Mysteries, where the Cos played a retired criminologist. But his performance here was so thorough and wonderful. There is something that is simply compelling about watching Mos Def. He has an undeniable presence and likability, even when he’s portraying a man committing terrible acts of violence. At the time, I still didn’t even know that he is considered one of hip-hop’s most talented and intelligent artists. I keep reminding myself to look into his work. Many of my friends listen to him and insist that I would really get into his music. I have no reason to doubt them–I can’t quite say why I keep putting it off.

Revelation #3: Spike Lee

Spike muthafuckin’ Lee, man! It pains me to think that I dismissed him as a “racism is bad” filmmaker. Or even a filmmaker who makes movies abotu “issues.” He’s much smarter than that, and ten times more complicated. I’ve seen other Spike Lee movies since Bamboozled, and I’m impressed every time. His movies are not a banner, railing against racism. Instead, Lee paints a story on a canvas that is deep and layered with his observations about race in America. Good and bad, not to mention black and white. (and Italian, Puerto Rican, Jewish, and, and, and, etc., etc., etc.) Unlike so many other films about racial issues, Spike Lee doesn’t try to find answers and present them to a captive audience. Spike Lee gives us a story and merely says “Look at this. Now, what do you think?” It provokes the audience to ask their own questions and find their own answers. When I watch a Spike Lee movie, I know that there’s something unfair in the culture he’s portraying, but it’s up to me to put my finger on what it is. I admire that so much because it creates a dialogue between the film and its viewer. This is the genius of Spike Lee. He doesn’t lecture us, he invites us into a conversation.

Bamboozled is an incredibly watchable movie. There are points of genuine comedy and genuine tragedy. There are some parts of the film that made me unsure whether I should enjoy watching it, even while I was enjoying it–and I think that this is one of the larger questions the film puts forward.

After seeing Bamboozled for the first time in the theater, I sat through the credits and still remained in my seat for five minutes after the lights came up. It was as if I had been stunned, and all of the physical and emotional energy had been drained from my body. I still remember that feeling, and I will cherish Bamboozled for making me feel that way for a long time to come.

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quick movie review: “Back to the Future Part III”

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Saturday, December 29th, 2007

BACK TO THE FUTURE PART III

Back in the early- to mid-90’s, a bunch of hard rock and heavy metal bands started to do slower songs (Queensryche’s “Silent Lucidity,” anybody?), power ballads (how ’bout The Scorpions’ “Winds of Change”?), and even occasionally go acoustic (I know you remember Extreme’s “More Than Words”). These songs were hits, and it was interesting to hear these guys do music that was different than what they usually played. But even as they tried to expand their sensibilities, the general reaction was “Okay, that’s interesting. But it doesn’t have the same soul as your usual stuff. Why don’t you play more of that stuff again?”

And that’s how Back to the Future Part III feels to me. It wants to go in two brand new directions: it wants to be a western, and it wants to be a love story. All of this gets in the way of the time-travel paradox fixing that we loved so much in Back to the Future and Back to the Future Part II.

This third, and final time around, we get another dose of cast members dressing up as their characters’ relatives. Truth be told, I like Mad Dog Tannen best out of all of the Tannen characters we’ve met in the movie. Actually, it’s probably a toss-up between Mad Dog and the dorky Auto-Detailing version of Biff. But back to Mad Dog. Mad Dog is the only character in this movie who really feels true to me. He could cause some serious damage and not care about it at all. It would have been so easy for this character to slip into parody, but he feels genuinely dangerous, and I think that’s a plus to the film.

A film with very few other pluses, I have to say.

Oh, it’s enjoyable enough. And it starts off just fine. There’s some great stuff while we remain in 1955–it’s just that we don’t stay there very long. We’re whisked off to the Old West, and that’s where I start to feel disoriented. I recognize Marty and Doc, but they don’t belong here. I mean, I know the point is that they don’t belong here–but they really feel like they don’t even belong in that point.

And then there’s the aforementioned love story, which I don’t buy at all. Not at all.

When the movie, and thus the trilogy, finally comes to an end, we are left with a message that would have felt right at home in a CBS after-school special. And it’s presented in such a ham-fisted, cheeseball way, you have to wonder if it even comes from the same writers who wrote the rest of the movie, as well as its two trilogy siblings. Seriously, it feels that different.

Back to the Future Part II and Back to the Future Part III exist in a kind of symbiotic relationship. They both need each other. But each of them only piggybacks on Big Daddy Back to the Future, a movie that is fine on its own, and doesn’t need anyone else to support it.

I’d definitely recommend Back to the Future to anyone who hasn’t seen it. Part II and Part III, you can take or leave.

The first one will make you say “WOW!!!”

The second will make you say “Neat….”

And the third will make you say “Oh. Um… well, how ’bout that.”

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quick movie review: “Back to the Future Part II”

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Friday, December 28th, 2007

BACK TO THE FUTURE PART II

I could be wrong about this, but it seems like Back to the Future Part II was just about the start of this whole big blockbuster trilogy thing. Certainly it was way ahead of Lord of the Rings, and even a full decade before The Matrix. You could say that The Godfather was way ahead of Back to the Future, but still, the third Godfather didn’t come along until 1990.

Could you even argue for Rocky, whose third installment seemed more like a “Let’s see how many sequels we can keep this going with!” than a “Let’s round out this whole thing by capping it at three movies.” Three more Rocky’s later, that does seem to be the case.

The second part of the Back to the Future trilogy came to us in 1989. Except that Back to the Future was never supposed to be a trilogy. Many of us remember seeing a “To Be Continued…” in that nifty orange and silver lettering at the end of the first movie, but that was only added for the home video release. The print that played in theaters simply ended with the credits of the movie.

So they decided to make two more–giving the story a much wider range and deeper significance, I suppose. Except that it’s really hard to do if you never intended the first movie to be part one of a three-part saga.

To their credit, the makers of Back to the Future Part II (which, it should be noted, are the same people who made the first movie–so, there’s that) did try their best to broaden the range of the story. The trouble is that just about everything in this movie feels shoehorned in so that it can resonate later: Doc’s enthusiasm about the Old West; Marty’s fear of being thought cowardly; Biff’s family history. Nothing’s really wrong with these ideas (okay, the “nobody calls me ‘chicken’” thing is a bit contrived), it’s just that they come way too late to the table. You find yourself thinking “Well, why didn’t you bring any of this up in the first movie?”

You can almost feel the writers saying “I wish we had brought it up in the first movie, but we didn’t know that there were going to be more of them! So, please sit tight while I make these characters walk through some pretty transparant exposition.”

Still, with all of those minor faults, this is still a pretty decent movie. Much of the sincerity of the first film is gone, and you can see that everyone is hamming it up a little more for the second go-around; the designers, make-up artists, and costumers in particular–it’s a lot of fun to watch. The story is pretty solid, too, and it does a good job of opening up more time-travel paradoxes and mischief.

Overall, there’s just no way this movie could have been as good as the first one. That would be asking the nearly-impossible. It does a yeoman’s job at carrying the energy and the story a little further, and it’s a pleasant watch if you’ve seen the first one.

The real trouble is the “in for a penny, in for a pound” factor. Which is to say that once you’ve seen Back to the Future and Back to the Future Part II, you’re practically obligated to see the third installment. And part three is where everything kind of falls apart. That review is coming up next. Stay tuned!

To be concluded…

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quick movie review: “Back to the Future”

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Thursday, December 27th, 2007

BACK TO THE FUTURE

The year was 1985. Family Ties was a big hit on television. I was nine years old, and already a fan of Michael J. Fox. So when I heard that he was going to be in a movie, I was very very excited.

One autumn evening, my father gathered up my brother and I and told us that we were going to the movies. “You guys like Michael J. Fox, right? From that show you watch? Well, we’re going to see the movie he’s in! Get your coats and meet me at the car, boys!”

I couldn’t race fast enough. I’d heard about this movie, and it sounded like it was going to be a laugh-riot mile-a-minute adventure. I was bouncing up and down all the way to the cineplex.

We approached the ticket counter, and my father told the teenager at the register “One adult, two children, please.”

“Which movie, sir?”

“Back to the Future.”

Upon hearing this, I became concerned. “But dad!!” I whined. “I wanted to see the Michael J. Fox movie!”

“This is the Michael J. Fox movie, Eric. See? There he is on the poster.”

I didn’t even look where he was pointing. “Nuh-uh, dad! This isn’t the movie at all! Michael J. Fox is in Teen Wolf! I wanna see Teen Wolf!”

I was so upset, I don’t even remember how my dad calmed me down and got me into my seat inside the theater. I didn’t want to see a dumb old future movie whose title I didn’t even understand. I wanted to see Michael J. Fox as a werewolf in high school!

Well, let the record show that Back to the Future now occupies a very proud position in my DVD collection. I watch it at least once a year. And Teen Wolf? I think the last time I saw even a bit it of Teen Wolf was over a decade ago on one of those Sunday Matinee time slots that TNT runs in the summer when no one is watching TV anyway.

I love this movie. I don’t know too many people who don’t love this movie. It’s nearly perfect in every way. The characters are so crisp and clear, the writing is exactly what it needs to be, the special effects are almost 100% seamless, and the complicated story is handled with such economy that you don’t even realize how tangled the story really gets. And the direction? My goodness–there’s not a scene in this movie, not even a shot, that doesn’t help drive the story towards its finishing line.

Two years ago, I was fortunate to catch a screening of an original print of Back to the Future at one of the cinemas downtown. It was late on a Thursday night, but there was still a decent crowd, including a group of kids around 9 years old. They were restless before the movie began, but once it started, they were fully rapt in attention. They laughed at all of the right parts, and they gasped at all of the right parts. I think I may have even heard one of them utter “Whoa!!!” during a particularly exciting sequence.

I was fascinated that this movie held up so well for an audience that had no access to nostalgia.

If you haven’t seen it, if you’ve been putting it off because you think it might feel dated, or cornball, or just plain too popular to possibly be much good–think again. This is a great movie as well as a super fun movie. You don’t find that combination very often.

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quick movie review: “The Apartment”

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Sunday, December 9th, 2007

THE APARTMENT

The Apartment is a movie that starts off as a comedy, but halfway through it becomes something quite different and difficult to pin down. The first time I saw this movie, I remember thinking “Hey, waitasec–this was a comedy, like, five minutes ago! How the hell did it get so dark and somber??” But just in case you’re thinking about Netflixing the DVD and now you’re worried that it will only be halfway satisfying, let me assure you: this is a wonderful film. Just don’t go in with any expectations of genre and you’ll come out all the richer for it.

I can’t say enough good things about Billy Wilder. And it’s not for nothing that he’s regarded as one of the all-time greats. (and I should mention that Billy Wilder’s amazing writing partner was I.A.L. Diamond–what a team!!) The dialogue and direction here is pitch perfect. One of the things I love about Wilder is that he’ll use lines of dialogue, or gestures, or attitudes for a joke or a little throwaway in one part of the film, but he’ll bring them back later with much deeper meaning. And the amazing thing about it is that when those things pop up the first time, he doesn’t underline them or play loud trumpets to call your attention to it and say “You’d better remember this part!”… But he knows how to guide your attention subtly so that the line/gesture/attitude will resonate throughout the movie.

This movie also has one of my favorite heartwrenching scenes ever. As usual, I don’t want to spoil any plot for you, so I’ll just say that if you have ever had a crush on anyone you couldn’t have, you’re likely to feel this scene deep in your chest. The scene appears, on the surface, to be about Jack Lemmon showing off his new bowler hat to Shirley MacLaine. But with the previous 50 minutes leading up to this scene, it simmers and tugs at you–all without ever calling attention to the fact that that’s what it’s doing. Again, this is Wilder, Lemmon, and MacLaine at their best!

Oh, and by the way, I know that I would totally have a crush on Shirley MacLaine if I worked with her in this office building and saw her every day. She’s kind, funny, smart, and cute as a button! Seriously, I’d fall for her in no time at all.

I also sympathize so much with Jack Lemmon’s nice guy character, C.C. Baxter. Probably because I also tend to be a bit of a nice guy pushover for people, too. Perhaps not to the extreme that he is in this movie, but it’s not difficult to see myself in there. Then again, I’m guessing that this movie wouldn’t have been so popular if we didn’t all see a bit of ourselves in the too-eager-to-be-liked, non-confrontational character buddy-boy C.C. Baxter. It’s one of my favorite roles I’ve ever seen Jack Lemmon play.

The other amazing thing about this movie, and I don’t know whether Billy Wilder intended this or not, is that it is a fascinating look at a middle-class, New York life in 1960, technology-wise. Nearly 50 years have passed since this film was made, and some of the technology in the film is virtually unrecognizable to me. The television with the remote control (yes, they had remote controls back then!), the shaving razor, the sock-thing-for-washing-your-socks-that-I-can’t-even-imagine-how-to-use, the small gas oven in the kitchen, and probably a dozen other things, too. They’re all passed by without a moment’s thought because they were probably all just accepted as normal in 1960. It’s fascinating to me because whenever I see contemporary films that take place in the past, there generally seems to be a wink at the audience regarding certain technologies, while other technologies for everyday living simply don’t show up at all.

Aside from the technology, there are also some curious artifacts that capture the attention: the elevator operators, the fact that Baxter lives on W 67th street in New York and his rent is $85/month (!!!), or the black shoeshine boy seen polishing an executive’s shoes. And while we’re on the subject of race, I’ll note that some people today may find Baxter’s neighbors, the Dreyfusses, a little too Jewey–but I’ll give them a pass on that. It feels like a harmless and slight exaggeration of what I’m sure were the speaking patterns of many New York Jews of the day. Besides, after seeing Mickey Rooney’s Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, I have a very forgiving curve of racial stereotypes in movies before we get to that level. Sheesh!

I would definitely recommend The Apartment if you’re looking for a good film to watch. It could even make a good date movie, I think, as long as you’re not expecting a traditional romantic comedy. Just let the movie unfold in front of you, and I think you’ll be pleased.

And that concludes my DVD shelf’s “A” section. Next up, Back to the Future!

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