The Red Badge of Courage (1951)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Red Badge of Courage (1951) – J. Huston

John Huston’s version of Stephen Crane’s famous civil war novel was famously hacked down to 69 minutes by the studio.  In this form, it has a haunting quality – seemingly showing Audie Murphy’s journey from frightened schoolboy to experienced soldier in a single night. Of course, it has been so long since I read the book (junior high school, perhaps) that its details are lost on me now – it may have focused on a single battle (apparently Chancellorsville, VA, in May 1863).  I also remember this to be an anti-war novel and certainly Henry Fleming (Murphy) and his fellow Union soldiers are depicted as full of fear -- and worried about their honour and how they will appear to others if they show this fear.  The title refers to the war wound that will demonstrate their courage (which Henry secretly hopes to gain).  The book is famous for its psychological explorations of its protagonist’s inner thoughts and the movie captures some of this (often with voiceover dialogue from a narrator) -- but the movie does not dwell on the futility of war or the horrible waste of life that it represents.  Perhaps this is implicit in the endless battle scenes and the way that bodies (even those of characters we once met) are shown carelessly pushed aside or crumpled on the ground in the middle of the path.  Murphy, a WWII hero of incredible renown, plays Fleming as though he is forcing such thoughts out of his mind and perhaps he knew this method through his own experiences.  In the end, Huston manages to capture some complicated emotions, a few moments of reverie through the trees, and a lot of smoke, dust, and traipsing about in the fields.  One wonders what a longer version of the film would have entailed – perhaps a clearer message may have come through – or perhaps we would have entered further into the mind of the soldier and the horror he faces.

Excalibur (1981)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Excalibur (1981) – J. Boorman

Often beautiful, sometimes muddled, anecdotal version of the Arthurian legend from director John Boorman – it is hard not to think of Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) which seems to be relentlessly spoofing this movie (except for the fact that it came first!).  But if you are willing to accept its fantasy world, there are a lot of charms to be found in Excalibur (named for Arthur’s sword – delivered by the lady of the lake to his father Uther who then jammed it into a stone only to be pulled by the true King, Arthur).  Boorman and his team transport us back to Medieval times fairly well – the film is brutish, violent, dirty, bloody and sometimes like a Renaissance Fair.  Gaudy (or mysterious) green lighting fills many scenes.  Most of the principals were (and remain) unknowns (including Arthur, Guenevere, and Lancelot) but a number of later famous actors appear in smaller parts (Helen Mirren, Liam Neeson, Patrick Stewart, Gabriel Byrne) and Shakespearean actor Nicol Williamson delivers a peculiar performance as Merlin (who is the main driver of the plot).  Of course, all of the famous episodes are here:  Arthur pulls the sword from the stone, he must fight Lancelot, he assembles his knights at a Round Table, Lancelot and Guenevere cheat on him, he sends his knights on a quest for the Holy Grail (which Perceval finds), and so on.  At times, things go over the top – but not as much as Boorman’s earlier Zardoz (1974) which is a shame.  Still for armor-clanking zeal, you can’t go past Excalibur – it might be good in a double feature with the Monty Python version (or perhaps in a triple feature with Bresson’s more serious thought-provoking Lancelot du Lac, 1974). I have yet to see the latest entry from Guy Ritchie in 2017 – should I?

The Dam Busters (1954)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Dam Busters (1954) – M. Anderson

Michael Redgrave’s wartime inventor Wallis is hard at work to make a “bouncing” bomb that will destroy well-protected Nazi dams in western Germany – so hard at work that he is obsessed.  But he keeps facing setback after setback.  This isn’t the film I thought I was going to watch but it is intriguing; the bombs are shown as animated black blobs (which turns out to be because even in 1954 their actual design was a state secret).  Eventually, of course, Wallis gets the design right but then it is up to the RAF to learn how to drop these special bombs from a distance of 600m and a height of only 60m.  Guy Gibson (Richard Todd) is chosen to lead the squadron as they train for this difficult task and also come up with some unique methods.  This is a very task-focused agentic movie – little time for character development.  Wallis has a tolerant wife and Gibson has a doting black lab (whose name is the unfortunate N-word –I was shocked but this is the racist UK in 1950s).  As they struggle to get the bomb right and the training runs accurate, time is running out because the bombs need to be dropped when the dams and the moon are both full – on a particular day in May.  And then, the mission is on and, wow, this turns out to be where George Lucas got his ideas for the attack on the Death Star in Star Wars (1977).  The same shots of the squadron members in their planes, the same banter between pilots/crew, and the same difficult shot to make to win.  Not everyone makes it home.  Strangely compelling in its obsession with this one particular goal but also I drifted in some of the many moments of aircraft flying...

The Player (1992)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Player (1992) – R. Altman

Robert Altman’s “comeback” film (from Michael Tolkin’s script) seems to have lost a bit of its punch in the 25+ years since it was released, likely because the problems with the film industry that it satirized have not only gotten worse, they are simply taken for granted. Movies as a business product rather than an artform? Writers all but ignored? Yer shitting me.  Tim Robbins plays Griffin Mill, the production exec interested only in studio politics, as banal rather than evil -- although Burt Reynolds, among others, thinks he’s an asshole; which is why he begins receiving death-threat postcards from an unknown writer he once dissed.  Taking the bull by the horns, Mill seeks out the likely suspect (Vincent D'Onofrio) and accidentally kills him...and then courts his girlfriend (Greta Scacchi).  Not much human feeling here, nor really among any of the Hollywood camp (save perhaps Cynthia Stevenson as Robbins’ girlfriend/ex-girlfriend).  Soon the Pasadena police (Whoopi Goldberg & Lyle Lovett) are on his trail and slick Peter Gallagher is vying for his job.  But as always with Robert Altman, the loose plot is virtually secondary to the community and its eccentric members (many of whom speak at the same time).  Of course, the most awesome thing about The Player (apart from that long opening tracking shot) is just how many “real” members of the community (celebrities themselves) Altman was able to coax into playing themselves in cameos (or as bit characters). They are all in on the joke (or unfortunately, the joke may be on them, since they are treated simply like tools to boost a film’s commercial viability, as they did for The Player).  This culminates in a great finale – a look at the final cut of the film that a writer (Richard E. Grant) desperately wanted to keep pure (no stars, downbeat ending).  Cynical as hell but right on the money. 

Angel Heart (1987)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Angel Heart (1987) – A. Parker

There were only 11 minutes left when I finally looked at my watch and said, “This is starting to fall apart” – which means Alan Parker’s Mickey Rourke-helmed voodoo detective story holds up remarkably well for most of its running length.  He’s a rough-around-the-edges private dick who is hired by the mysterious Louis Cyphre (Robert De Niro) to find a missing crooner who had reneged on “a deal”. (It is not too hard to figure out who Cyphre really is and De Niro seems to revel in the part).  The story begins in New York City in 1955 (great period detail here) and after a few trips to Harlem, Harry Angel (Rourke) finds himself travelling down to New Orleans on the trail of the missing singer Johnny Favorite.  Parker and his team keep things humid with wailing saxophones on the soundtrack and lush over-ripe visuals, a fair few bloody deaths, and a repeated motif of slowly spinning metal fans (it must be hot in Hell).  And then there’s sex – former Cosby Show star Lisa Bonet tore up her contract with that show to appear naked in some steamy scenes (but then her career didn’t take off after this).  Of course, the whole movie is really Mickey Rourke’s and he pulls it off with his doomed (but genial) bum act; we spend the entire film wondering about his identity as Parker drops hint after hint as Angel follows lead after lead (never dwelling long enough to let viewers look for plot holes).  Nevertheless, the final “reveal” is stranger than expected (although Charlotte Rampling’s voodoo death scene could have tipped us off) – part of those 11 minutes where everything rushes to the finish.  But before that, Angel Heart delivers on its moody noir promise with a Satanic twist.

Near Dark (1987)

☆ ☆ ☆

Near Dark (1987) – K. Bigelow

Kathryn Bigelow’s look at a gang of outlaw vampires in Oklahoma (and thereabouts) was completely off my radar in 1987 (but I did see Lost Boys, 1987, which I don’t recall as being particularly good).  Near Dark is a hybrid look at punk rock kids, western loners/homesteaders, and, yes, bloodsuckers (although the term vampire is never mentioned).  Caleb (Adrian Pasnar) is a more-or-less responsible teen who hits on the wrong girl (Jenny Wright), one who turns out to be a member of a gang of rough characters led by Lance Henriksen (so you know it’s tough).  After she bites him, they strongarm him into the gang – setting him the challenge of actually killing some prey.  Until then, his membership is provisional, but he’s squeamish (or perhaps kind-hearted).  Bigelow navigates between competing modes:  a moody romance between Pasnar and Wright’s characters and a full-on blood-and-guts shoot-em-up action film (with lots of fire, since the gang combusts in sunlight).  Henriksen is steely and mean but wild man Bill Paxton puts the edge into these latter scenes. These two and Jenette Goldstein starred in James Cameron’s Aliens (1986) the previous year and were hired as a team for this picture due to their camaraderie/presence (of course, Bigelow and Cameron were subsequently married, for a short while).  The end result is rather uneven but with glimpses of something greater, more romantic.  (I never saw Twilight, 2008 – is this a forerunner?).

  

Darkest Hour (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆

Darkest Hour (2017) – J. Wright

Gary Oldman’s performance as Winston Churchill is probably the only reason to watch this film, which takes place entirely in the days just before and at the start of his first term as prime minister in 1940.  The trademark cigar and hat are there as well as the mannerism (physical and vocal) that you may recall from newsreels, aided by prosthetics, of course.  Oldman remarkably disappears or melds into the famous man.  The screenplay takes us back to the time when Britain was paralysed with indecision about whether to follow Neville Chamberlain’s inclination to engage in peace talks with Hitler or Churchill’s instinct to fight.  We see Churchill’s (rare) moments of self-doubt and his use of rhetoric and strategic thinking (at Dunkirk) to win the argument and take the battle to the Nazis.  Some commentators have suggested that this depiction is a whitewash and that there were many aspects to Churchill (particularly materialising in his second term as PM in 1951) that were ugly.  And truly this is a glorified look at the man – which may be in keeping with Oldman’s reputed right-wing politics (should that matter?).  Secondary characters have basically nothing to do (Lily James is his secretary, Kristin Scott-Thomas is his wife, Ben Mendelsohn is the King).  Of course, knowing what we know about Hitler and the Nazis it is easy to yield to the rousing call to war here but other films have captured this time better (for example, Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk, also 2017).  Director Joe Wright tries to spice things up with travelling dolly shots and stylistic lighting/camera angles but, on the whole, the result here is ho-hum, notwithstanding Churchill’s famous speeches. 

  

The Last Metro (1980)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Last Metro (1980) – F. Truffaut

Truffaut’s last huge hit is a remembrance of Occupied France and the efforts of a theatre company to survive those days.  Catherine Deneuve is the (Gentile) wife of a famed Jewish director (Heinz Bennent) who has gone underground (literally), leaving her to manage the company (and also to star in their productions).  Gerard Depardieu is the leading man hired for the latest show who has ties to the Resistance.  Although some suspense is built because a powerful theatre critic and Nazi collaborator (Jean-Louis Richard) has taken an interest in the company/show and has the power to shut them down (and perhaps also discover Bennent hiding in the cellar), Truffaut seems less interested in using his Hitchcock-derived techniques here.  Instead, this is a character and relationship driven period piece, capturing people in a time and place, the tensions they feel, the compromises they make.  The central relationships are between Deneuve and Bennent (their relationship has changed because now he rather imperiously but also tenderly “controls” her from the cellar yet she must have more independence than she did) and between Deneuve and Depardieu (they experience friction because he doesn’t know her husband is still around – but their sexual tension doesn’t exactly light up the screen here).  Truffaut doesn’t hold back in showing us the awfulness of anti-semitism (and also homophobia), as codified in public policy and national broadcasts.  Very ugly.  But otherwise this is really a backstage drama about theatre people, albeit taking place during the Occupation.  See Melville’s Army of Shadows (1969) for a more typical look at the Resistance (and of course, Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds, 2009, is set in this same milieu).

A Lesson in Love (1954)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

A Lesson in Love (1954) – I. Bergman

A screwball comedy of remarriage (popular in Hollywood in the 1930s and 40s) is hardly something you would expect from Ingmar Bergman (especially prior to his great comic hit, Smiles of a Summer Night, 1955) – but he pulls it off.  With the help of witty stars Gunnar Björnstrand and Eva Dahlbeck (who later starred in that more famous comedy), Bergman keeps things as light as air, even as the onscreen events descend into chaos (as they always do in the screwball genre).  That’s not to say that Bergman (also the screenwriter) doesn’t throw in a few philosophical barbs (because he does) but these are mainly in keeping with the primary themes of this genre: the needs and roles of men and women and the value (or lack of value) of marriage itself.  I can see that the blu-ray boxset next turns to Scenes from a Marriage (1973) where Bergman undoubtedly shows us marriage through a less comic lens (we shall see soon) and there are traces of that view here too (Björnstrand offers the usual one-liners about marriage quelling passion).  Bergman’s own marital life (five wives and numerous affairs) was anything but stable.  Both husband and wife have extramarital partners as the film starts; but as is traditional, by the end, they will have found themselves back together and their relationship (if not the sanctity of marriage itself) reaffirmed.  An enjoyable trifle from the great auteur.

The Natural (1984)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Natural (1984) – B. Levinson

I never watched this back in the day and, watching now, it certainly has a dated sort of style – you can tell somehow that it’s the ‘80s even though the events depicted take place in the 1930s.  It’s the kind of film where you know that good is going to triumph over evil, that Robert Redford is definitely going to hit the home run that saves the day – and he does. It’s a picture that pretends to evoke suspense but always goes for the gratifying outcome; by the end, viewers can have no doubt that everything will work out.  In that way, it’s a fantasy film and there are suggestions that it has loose connections to the legend of King Arthur (the team is called the Knights) as well as Homer’s Odyssey (with Darren McGavin’s one-eyed bookie as the Cyclops and Robert Prosky as Hades), although the film isn’t really overt about this.  Moreover, director Barry Levinson decided to change the downbeat ending of Bernard Malamud’s novel (which I haven’t read but may have on my shelf) to keep Redford’s Roy Hobbs an unadulterated hero at the end of the day.  Or perhaps he is adulterated – we never really find out what happened in the 16 years when he didn’t play baseball (he is a star prospect in 1923 but suffers a freak event, courtesy of Barbara Hershey) and claims only to have made mistakes.  The script keeps him as a mystery and Redford plays him opaquely (and rather flatly).  Even in his relationships with Kim Basinger (evil) and Glenn Close (good) he remains distant and impenetrable (although we assume he eventually connects with the latter). Of course, this film is probably most well loved by baseball fans and a deeper knowledge of the sport and its fabled players might lead to greater enjoyment (at the allusions to real events).  As it stands, it is a bit corny, a bit old-fashioned, but you can count on an uplifting heart-warming finale.

  

Logan (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Logan (2017) – J. Mangold

I confess that I haven’t seen many superhero films (including none of the X-Men films that I can recall) but this recent Hugh Jackman Wolverine film got such positive reviews that it attracted my attention. So, bear in mind that I watched this cold, without much awareness of the X-Men backstory (apart from anything I may have gleaned from looking at other kids’ comics during summer camp in the 1970s) – your mileage may vary.  Of course, setting aside some of the supernatural elements, the film can be read as the story of an aging and disillusioned man, potentially dying of some unknown illness, drowning himself in drink and drugs, but then called upon to assist in a moral imperative whereupon he rediscovers an important part of himself and/or his deeper values.  This may not be Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey but it is certainly a story arc we have seen before.  The fact that it is a child who brings the hero to his senses is also familiar.  So, adding the supernatural elements to the mix may be what has refreshed it.  In this version, the weary old man (Logan; Hugh Jackman) has razor sharp adamantium claws and the young child is a new mutant developed from his genetic material (played by Dafne Keen) who sports the same weapons.  She has escaped from the facility that created her (run by Richard E. Grant) and needs Logan to help her to escape to “Eden” located on the Canadian border.  It is a long way from the Mexican border – especially with X-Men leader Charles Xavier (Patrick Stewart), now 90 years old, and experiencing seizures that can kill others, in tow.  There are some military-styled bad guys to fight along the way and the film earns its R-rating for violence.  The final fight, in a North Dakotan forest reminiscent of the setting (and moves?) for the Six Million Dollar Man vs. Bigfoot, feels old-school rather than CGI, which I appreciated. And it was hard not to identify with a grumbly superhero who wears reading glasses!  This said, I’m not sure I need to watch anything else from this franchise.

Sweet Country (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Sweet Country (2017) – W. Thornton

Australian Western taking place in the 1920s around Alice Springs at a time when relations between whitefellas and blackfellas was particularly bad.  Ewen Leslie plays a WWI vet who moves to the Outback to take over a station and starts causing trouble with his hard-drinking and negative approach to the Indigenous people (in contrast to the more equal treatment advocated by Sam Neill’s missionary).  Soon, Leslie has been killed by Hamilton Morris in an act of self-defence and Bryan Brown’s constable is sent to track him down (and his wife, Natassia Gorey Furber), with the assistance of Gibson John, an Indigenous man expected to track outside of his own country.  Director Warwick Thornton uses this plot (from screenwriter David Tranter) to interrogate Australian attitudes toward Indigenous people and the unequal application of the law.  In other words, the European colonists want one version of justice for themselves but apply another version (frontier justice) to the Aboriginal people.  It isn’t too far a leap to suggest that this same double standard is still applied today – so this is an important message to contemplate.  Thornton himself is a Kaytej man from Alice Springs and the film employed a large number of local Indigenous people both in front of and behind the camera (Thornton and his son Dylan River worked together as cinematographers and the film looks beautiful). It is excellent that there is an Indigenous voice (or voices) in film. Unfortunately, the “sweet” in the title may be meant ironically.  

The Sundowners (1950)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Sundowners (1950) – G. Templeton

I was actually looking for the Robert Mitchum Australian sheep-ranching drama but ended up renting this one by accident.  It’s a classic B-western with familiar themes, shot in some early version of technicolor (but well-faded and rather murky in this print). Robert Sterling is a Texas rancher who is losing many of his cattle to rustling – that is, until the Wichita Kid (Robert Preston), a notorious outlaw, shows up to help him out.  Soon, they have embarrassed the rustlers and Sterling and his younger brother, Jeff (John Barrymore Jr), are indebted to Wichita.  That is, until they discover that he has been up to no good, interloping with Cathy Downs (who is married to Jack Elam but an object of affection for Sterling) as well as doing some rustling of his own (with Jeff in his posse).  Soon, both Elam and the Sheriff are dead and Sterling has to face the Wichita Kid – who turns out to be his own brother.  As I said, this is purely B fare, although the plot is a bit more intense than is standard for the bottom of the bill and Preston’s charisma does elevate things.  But it was a helluva murky print.

Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001)

☆ ☆ ☆

Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001) – C. Gans

Based on a true story (!!!) – or at least many of the characters are real people from pre-revolutionary 18^th century France (the bodice-ripping era) -- and apparently, there was a wolf-like beast preying on peasants in this particular regional area of France at that time.  The fictional conceit is that two “investigators”, one French (Samuel Le Bihan) and one Native American or Canadian (Mark Dacascos), have been sent by the King to catch the beast and bring it back to Paris for scientific analysis.  So far, so good.  However, the style used to present this story (by director Christophe Gans) is one that I find immediately off-putting:  it’s that mix of video game or comic book aesthetics with irritating sound effects, slow motion fight moves, and occasional CGI flourishes that also marred other films of this time period (I’m thinking the Robert Downey Jr. Sherlock Holmes film at the moment).  Others may enjoy this style and certainly this became a hit outside of France but it ruined the film for me (that and the over-long running time and dragging romantic scenes).  Still, there are some fine actors here (Vincent Cassell, Émilie Dequenne, and Monica Bellucci among them) and the art direction/period mise en scene generally looks great (apart from that CGI sheen). A conspiracy plot lies buried beneath everything, which could be appealing if the chaff were cut away from the wheat.  In short, I tried hard to get into this – comparing it to some of the Hong Kong films of yore (with their decidedly non-naturalistic fight scenes and sound effects) – but to no avail.  Moreover, the beast itself reminds one of Princess Mononoke (1997), the better film (if entirely different). I guess I can’t really recommend this – but whatever floats your boat!

Capricorn One (1977)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Capricorn One (1977) – P. Hyams

About ¾ of the way through this very entertaining conspiracy thriller, I posited that there could only be two possible endings: 1) the conspiracy is exposed; or 2) the conspirators win.  Since this was the 1970s, I expected the bleakest outcome (e.g., The Parallax View, 1974, if I am remembering correctly).  However, bleak didn’t always win (see All the President’s Men, 1976,for example) – but just demonstrating that the conspiracy is out there was probably enough to fit the zeitgeist.  In Capricorn One, we are shown how the moon landing could have been faked – except the script shows us a future mission to Mars instead (and Kubrick has nothing to do with it!).  The astronauts (James Brolin, Sam Waterston, and O. J. Simpson) are kept in the dark until the very last moment when they are pulled from the rocket and transported to a secret military base that has been rigged up to look like the surface of Mars; they are told that their families will be harmed unless they cooperate and stage the Mars landing for the TV cameras.  Although the plan for rescuing them from the capsule when it lands in the sea after the mission is carefully explained to them (by boss/friend/bad guy Hal Holbrook), it doesn’t take long before they realise that they really aren’t going to be allowed to live...  Elliott Gould plays the clichéd alcoholic but intrepid reporter who stumbles onto the conspiracy (with help from Karen Black and Telly Savalas).  Writer-Director Peter Hyams throws everything at the audience (stunts with cars, helicopters, airplanes), including all the usual conspiracy thriller elements, and comes up with fun popcorn fare.