Monday, October 30, 2006

Quote of the Week

"I am often asked by younger filmmakers: Why do I need to look at old movies? The only response I can give them is: I still consider myself a student. Yes, I have made a number of pictures in the past twenty years. But the more pictures I make, the more I realize that I really don't know... Do what painters used to do, and probably still do. Study the old masters. Enrich your palette. Expand the canvas. There's always so much more to learn."

Martin Scorsese

Saturday, October 28, 2006

It's hard not to cry...



...when your team chokes so badly. But congrats to St. Louis, they deserve it. The Tigers will be back to the World Series, though. Only good things ahead for our boys wearing the old English D.

But I gotta say, Sean Casey is my hero. He never gave up. I almost think they should've given him the MVP -- the guy just never quits. He kept the Tigers in it and single-handedly put us in a position to win these last two games. I love The Mayor!

post edited: to clarify why I'm crying; sorry for the confusion

Monday, October 23, 2006

Quote of the Week

"When taking close-ups in a colour picture, there is too much visual information in the background, which tends to draw attention away from the face. That is why the faces of the actresses in the old black and white pictures are so vividly remembered. Even now, movie fans nostalgically recall Dietrich... Garbo... Lamarr... Why? Filmed in black and white, those figures looked as if they were lit from within. When a face appeared on the screen over-exposed -- the high-key technique, which also erased imperfections -- it was as if a bright object was emerging from the screen."

Nestor Almendros

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Old Movie Dialogue – The Maltese Falcon (John Huston, 1941; The Derelict: A, LeaJo: B+)

Part II

The Derelict:
So what did you think of Maltese Falcon?

LeaJo:
Well, I liked it! I thought it was a good movie and it was entertaining. It wasn't really what I expected it to be though. I thought there was going to be a lot more action and mystery, but the whole thing felt a little bit more subdued compared to the other mystery movies I'm familiar with. I also thought it was a bit boring at times though. There was a ton of exposition that would go on for long periods of time and I kind of just wanted them to SHOW me what was going on, not just tell me everything. I also liked the ending when Sam turned the girl in, but I was sort of expecting there to be a bigger twist in the end. I don't know why, I just thought there would be more to the story with the actual falcon, but I guess it just wasn't that kind of movie.

TD:
Yeah, like were you waiting for a flashback or something to explain the bird's origin?

LJ:
Yeah, maybe. Except that might seem sort of out of place in the movie. So I don't really know how they could have fixed that scene with Gutman telling the history of the falcon because it seemed to go on FOREVER. Although I did like listening to that actor talk. He was kind of awesome!

TD:
Yes! And for me (and I think other fans of this movie) that was the point. The bird is the macguffin, it's just an excuse to hear Sidney Greenstreet say lines. And to have Bogie act like a bad ass. Did you read the Ebert review?

LJ:
Well, I did enjoy watching the actors. Yeah, I read the review. He said everything you said. There was a lot of talk about how it was such a great movie because it was the first noir and it launched the careers of Humphrey Bogart and Sidney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre and I totally understand what he was saying, but I don't really have a particular connection to any of these actors so while I think they're good and they were very enjoyable to watch, that didn't really make me love the movie more. Same thing with it being the first noir. I've seen movies that are sort of similar to this and Sam Spade is a character type I've seen before so it wasn't really all that "fresh" to me. Maybe that's why I wasn't that impressed with it. It was good, but it wasn't anything all that special. At least to me.

TD:
That's interesting about you liking the characters a lot, but not liking the movie as much. I think Maltese Falcon is all about character, as you know, so the characters ARE the movie for me. And I first saw Lorre and Greenstreet in Casablanca where their roles are much smaller, but I thought they were great. But Maltese Falcon really made me fall in love with them as character actors.

LJ:
I had never seen a movie with any of these actors before so it was all new to me. I think my favorite was Cairo. I thought Peter Lorre was really funny and the character was interesting to me. I didn't particularly like Gutman, but I liked the way Greenstreet sort of, I don't know, strutted about. I also loved it when he laughed. As for Sam Spade? You know, the more I think about it, the more I realize that maybe I didn't really like the character that much. He really is an anti-hero in every sense of the word. So even though he was funny and charming and kick-ass, he was also mean and I didn't really respond to that very well. Except at the end. In that one shot I was talking about [n.b.: the shot where Spade is in the frame but Brigid is crying and speaking just outside of the frame; Spade seems to be displaying regret, sadness, etc. about turning her in]. He finally showed his true emotions and I felt really bad for him. That was probably my favorite part of the movie.

TD:
Yeah, and I think that's why this movie is often considered the first film noir, because Spade is kind of a jerk-hole and he's only heroic because he turns the crooks in at the end. Film noir, after all, is characterized, among other things, for having very morally ambiguous characters who are the main protagonists. So do you think that not being able to like the Sam Spade character meant that you were more focused on plot and therefore disappointed because the plot was just an excuse to see Spade out-smart everybody?

LJ:
I think you hit it right on the head. I think that's exactly why I was sort of disappointed with the plot. Because on the one hand, it was fun to watch Spade, but throughout the movie I wasn't really trying to focus on him all that much. I was busy focusing on what was going to happen in the plot (and also trying to figure out how everyone was connected...it was a little confusing). So at the end I was sort of like, "oh, that's it?" I didn't really want Spade to turn in Cairo and Gutman. I wanted them to go on their adventure to Istanbul. You know, I wonder if I saw this movie again, knowing how it ends, if I would enjoy it more. Being able to pay attention to the characters and their interactions instead of the mystery.

TD:
Well, I was reading some comments at the IMDB message boards for this movie (after we had our conversation yesterday) and many people said that it took them a second viewing (or more) before they really fell in love with the movie. Some people even said they hated the movie the first time they saw it but loved it the second time. Actually, this was kind of my experience as well. I first saw this film in an early 100-level film class and I liked it but was very confused by it. But I liked it mostly for its atmosphere (Ebert mentions this point too, I think, about the atmosphere), the whole private eye thing, all 1940s with cigarette smoke everywhere and mysterious Far East adventures just off in the horizon... But in subsequent viewings on tv (thank you TCM) I really came to love the movie because I was able to finally understand all the dialogue and pay attention to little details of character and acting that I couldn't pick up the first time because I WAS paying so much attention to the plot. The Maltese Falcon: How I learned to stop worrying about plot and love the dialogue.

LJ:
Hee! Yeah...I can totally see my opinion being changed the second time I saw it. Just look at my experience with Gone With the Wind. Don't know that I'll ever see the Maltese Falcon again, but I guess it's something to think about. And remember, I did like it, I just didn't love it like a lot of people seem to do.

TD:
Well, I was wondering what your general opinion about dialogue is? Because this film is so dialogue-heavy, and the dialogue is so great, even the expository stuff is fantastic and fun to listen to (at least for me and other big fans of the movie), but do you as a movie viewer find dialogue interesting? Do you pay a lot of attention to dialogue in the movies you watch? What kind of dialogue do you prefer (if any)? I ask these questions because I think a lot of great old movies have a lot of great dialogue, and that's one of their virtues. "High pants, fast talkers" isn't just a Family Guy joke, it's a real comment on films from the 30s and 40s and the fast-paced dialogue is one of the reasons, in my opinion, why the films have such charm. I wonder if not being as receptive to dialogue in general translates into finding it harder to "get into" old movies.

LJ:
Geez. These are hard questions. Hm, well, I guess I've never really thought about dialogue too much in the past. Like, I'm not really sure what your question is. Because every movie has dialogue so how could I not like it? Do you mean, do I prefer talking to action?

TD:
No, not really that. I mean, do you have an ear for dialogue? Are you pleased by an especially witty turn of phrase from a character? Do you love a movie more because it’s got such great lines? For instance, on the cheesy AFI 100 Greatest Movie Lines, nearly eight or nine lines came from Casablanca, and probably five came from Gone with the Wind. These great lines are part of the reason why I love those films. But I wonder if it's hard for younger people today to get into old movies because they're not as tuned into listening for fast paced, witty dialogue. Because of contemporary cinema's reliance on special effects, often the lines of movies can get away with being pedestrian. I wonder... I'm not talking about either/or. Just more of a "taste." Like, I have a taste for musicals and I like really inventive dance numbers. I look for those in my musicals. I also love great dialogue and I listen for it in my movies.

LJ:
You know, I totally agree with that. I like witty dialogue, but you know, when you think about it, most of the awesome movie lines that people quote all the time are from old movies. So I can see that people my age might not really care much at all for the cool lines in Maltese Falcon because a lot of contemporary movies are so visual. But to answer your question specifically, I do like great lines especially if it has great line delivery. If I know a favorite line of mine is coming up in a movie I love, I get really excited! The thing about the Maltese Falcon however is that most of the time they talked so fast, the lines never really struck me at all. Except "the stuff that dreams are made of". That's a good line. Which has nothing to do with the name of our blog of course.

TD:
Now you know all my secrets.

LJ:
I still say to this day that "well, well, well....Lupin...out for a walk....in the moonlight?" is one of the greatest lines of all time. Sorry, that was random... but slightly on topic.

TD:
Yes, definitely on topic. And I think a good illustration of my point. You know how much I love that line, but it does have a lot to do with the delivery and the context of the scene. It’s Alan Rickman’s way of saying the line that makes it so great. Taken out of context it's almost meaningless to those who aren't familiar with Prisoner of Azkaban. But a line like: "I hope they don't hang you, precious, by that sweet neck... The chances are you'll get off with life. That means if you're a good girl, you'll be out in 20 years. I'll be waiting for you. If they hang you, I'll always remember you.” That's a great line even out of context (though of course, in context it's even better). A lot of movie dialogue today doesn't have that same sharpness, it doesn't crackle the way old movie dialogue does. There are still plenty of great lines, but they're of a different sort. Not as witty, I guess. Or as poetic.

LJ:
And you know this brings me back to what we were talking about yesterday...it's because no one actually talks the way people in these old movies do. It's why the lines are so awesome, because they are so obviously scripted to sound awesome.

TD:
Yes!

LJ:
It's not realistic, but it's cool nonetheless.

TD:
But for a lot of people these old movies come off as cheesy for the exact same reason. Because movies today are almost always "realistic" in a stylistic sense people aren't used to seeing and hearing the more artificial, mannered speech and actions of the old movies.

LJ:
Oh yeah totally. I have to admit...I thought the dialogue in Gone With the Wind was really cheesy, but I didn't really let it bother me. As soon as I just let myself go with the flow, I found Scarlet's ravings to be quite entertaining and enjoyable. I mean, who talks like Sam Spade? No one! But I bet people wish they could talk like that.

TD:
Yes. So, what are your impressions about old movies now having seen and discussed Maltese Falcon? Are you curious to watch more old movies? And if so, are there any movies that you feel you'd like to watch, or, perhaps, you feel you have to watch?

LJ:
Ok, you're going to have a heart attack when I say this, but I think I need to watch Casablanca. It sounds even better than Maltese Falcon, and I guess it's one of those "classics" that everyone talks about that I really should just get around to seeing. My impressions? Hm…well, I don't know if my impressions really changed. I never thought that old movies were bad and I still don't. Maltese Falcon was good, and I'm sure there are a lot more movies like it that I would really enjoy if I went looking for them, but....I probably won't go looking for them. I may just continue to rely on you to "expose" me to the good stuff. I liked the movie, but I can't really see myself becoming as interested as you are now. It may take a while for me to get to your level.

TD:
Well, I'm not sure anyone is at my level. You've met me. I'm crazy.

LJ:
True. You're insane. I guess what I meant was that you started watching old movies and you became interested in them so you began to actively seek them out. I'm not there yet.

TD:
Well, let's try for Casablanca next time and we'll see what happens!

Friday, October 20, 2006

The Departed (Martin Scorsese, 2006, B-)

I love learning about the movies from Alfred Hitchcock. One of his more famous explanations involves the difference between suspense and surprise. Surprise is having two men eating lunch and then suddenly a bomb explodes under their table. Suspense is showing us the bomb under the table before it goes off, so that the audience knows about it but the two men don't. And so we wait in anticipation for the moment when the bomb will go off. The thing about suspense that I love is that, if well done, it stands up to multiple viewings. The thing about surprise is that it's great the first time around, not so much the second and third (though, of course, exceptions abound).

The Departed is all about suspense for a good four-fifths of its running time. We know who the undercover cop is and we know who the informant is, but they don't know each other, and we wait in anticipation to find out when and how they'll discover each other. But Scorsese wastes a lot of time letting Jack Nicholson chew scenery, and drags out the cat and mouse/mouse and cat game between Damon's character and DiCaprio's character to the point where nearly all suspense and anticipation are lost. After awhile it gets tiresome waiting for Damon and DiCaprio to discover each other. The movie is just too darn long. Scorsese tries to make up for this by adding a few surprises into the mix at the end, but they feel cheap -- the suspense is lost, the movie's getting a little long, so let's throw in a couple of out-of-left-field surprises to keep it interesting. Well, the surprises are somewhat surprising, but ultimately unsatisfying. And Nicholson's character turns out to be a dead-end -- he sucks up screen time with an over-the-top performance (which I did find entertaining), but in the end his presence in the film means nothing, except as an excuse for the plot.

The thing that saves The Departed for me is Scorsese's skill as a director and as an artist. His love of cinema, his playfulness with the camera, with sound and music, with little tricks like irises -- the guy is having fun, and that fun is translated to the audience. And the movie is funny too, in a salty, dark sort of way.

J. Hoberman in the Village Voice sums it up pretty well: "Neither a debacle nor a bore, The Departed works but only up to a point, and never emotionally."

Old Movie Dialogue – The Maltese Falcon (John Huston, 1941; The Derelict: A, LeaJo: B+)

Part I

The Derelict:
So, Leajo, how many "old" movies have you seen? Pre-1970 movies?

LeaJo:
Heh. Well...I'm not really sure about the exact number, but probably about, I don't know...five. That sounds really pathetic, I know.

The Derelict:
No, not pathetic at all. Which movies have you seen (prior to watching the Maltese Falcon)?

LeaJo:
This is a hard question. I might not remember them all. Actually, it's funny, but most of them are Hitchcock movies. The Birds, Rear Window, Psycho. Let's see, I've seen The Wizard of Oz, It's a Wonderful Life, and I know there are more, but I can't remember them off the top of my head...I might be able to come up with some more later.

TD:
You've seen It's a Wonderful Life???!!!! I had no idea! That's actually one of my favorites.

LJ:
Yeah, we had to watch it in school. Maybe that means it doesn't really count. I liked it though. Oh yeah! I've seen Gone with the Wind too!

TD:
You watched It’s a Wonderful Life in school?! Okay, now my mind has been blown. Why?

LJ:
Actually, I don't really remember why. It was in 6th grade and my whole grade watched it so it wasn't like it was for a specific class. Maybe we just watched it for a Christmas thing...except...oh man...you are going to be mad about this. Everyone had to get permission from their parents to watch it because it dealt with religion and they didn't want anyone to get offended.

TD:
Oh my gosh! Really?! I'm not mad, that's just f-ing hilarious. The "religion" is like, what? A silly storyline about a comical angel getting his wings and George Bailey praying in the bar for a few seconds? Seriously, it's only slightly more "religious" than Elf.

LJ:
Yeah...I don't know. I barely remember watching it so I don't really know what my teachers were thinking. Oh, I've seen To Kill A Mockingbird. Does that count? (I also had to watch that movie in school)

TD:
Yes! That definitely counts. Wow, you're a closet old movie watcher, aren't you?

LJ:
You got me! Hee! I bet there are more too; I just can't remember them all right now. Do you remember that one movie that my mom made us watch with Sydney Poitier and the nuns? Does that count?

TD:
Yep, that counts. It's Lillies of the Field, and a good movie, though I've only seen it that once. Okay, so there's The Birds, Rear Window, Psycho, the Wizard of Oz, It's a Wonderful Life, Gone with the Wind, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Lillies of the Field. Is that right?

LJ:
Yeah. I think so

TD:
That's a pretty good list, when really, I bet if you asked your friends they've seen maybe two old movies, probably Wizard of Oz and maybe something like Sound of Music or Mary Poppins or another old Disney movie. Maybe It's a Wonderful Life too 'cause it's on every year on NBC, but that’s probably a stretch. So you are maybe a little ahead of the pack, for your age group.

LJ:
You're probably right. I doubt my friends have seen any Hitchcock movies.

TD:
You're probably right. Okay, so before watching Gone with the Wind with me, and then Maltese Falcon last night, what would you say your general impression of "old" movies was? What did you think about old movies (if you thought about them at all)? Did you have any interest in watching these "classic" Hollywood movies or were you content with watching contemporary films?

LJ:
Oh, I was definitely just content in watching contemporary films. I only really watched those movies because I had to at school or someone in my family recommended them to me and made me watch them. I never actively went out and searched for old movies to watch. My impression with them was that in general, I liked them. They were definitely different than newer movies, but that didn't make them bad. The Birds and Rear Window and Psycho scared me just as much as any contemporary horror movie did. I think the main difference I felt between old movies and contemporary movies was that old movies didn't look as good. Like, I thought Rear Window was cool...but it could have been cooler with better special effects. I liked all of the movies though. Wizard of Oz is one of my favorite movies of all time.

TD:
Oh yeah. Wizard of Oz is the best. Interesting about the special effects, because Rear Window didn't really have any special effects, or are you talking about when he's hanging off the window at the end? Yeah, I can see why that would be cheesy looking to a contemporary audience.

LJ:
Yeah...actually that's the only scene I can remember. Was that movie in black and white? Because I sort of meant that too. All of the black and white movies in my mind would have looked better in color. Not that I don't like black and white, it's just a matter of taste.

TD:
No, Rear Window is a color film. As is The Birds. Psycho was shot in black and white because Hitchcock didn't have the budget for color (I think that was the case). Yeah, and I have to be perfectly honest, but I've been thinking about my own "education", if you will, in old movies, and it took me awhile to warm up to b&w movies. In fact, the first time I saw Gone with the Wind (I came in at the end while my parents were watching it) I thought it was kinda cheesy and bad. But something about the film stuck with me and almost kinda haunted me, and a few years later when I watched it with my mom on tv it was the greatest movie I'd ever seen. But black and white movies were not an instant "watch" for me, it took me many almost forced sessions of watching b&w movies to start to "get" them.

LJ:
First time I saw Gone With the Wind, I though it was really boring. I liked it a lot more when we watched it. Things can change depending on when you watch certain things.

TD:
Definitely.

LJ:
Believe me, I have nothing against black and white movies. I just don't really prefer black and white in a movie, probably because I'm used to color. Because of that, I would pick a color movie over one without. You watch a lot of black and white movies so you're probably used to it.

TD:
Right. Which is what I'm saying about familiarity (remember from last night?) -- I made myself watch black and white movies because I wanted to understand them and see what made them good as opposed to color films. I was interested in the lighting, and the way faces looked different in black and white, and the haunting quality of it all.

LJ:
Yeah. I totally understand. It makes sense

TD:
I wanted to experience that thrill and newness that came from black and whites -- I was intellectually curious about them. It was about learning something new, in a way. A new way of looking at and enjoying movies. I wanted to get beyond the familiar movies I was exposed to at the time at the theater and on tv in general.

LJ:
Did most of this come about because you were taking film classes?

TD:
No, it happened before that. It came about because my mom used to watch movies on Saturday afternoons while she folded laundry, and I would sit and fold laundry and watch with her. At first I wouldn't sit down if a black and white movie was on (I'm thinking this is maybe when I was eleven or twelve), but my curiosity and love of the cinema got the better of me. Also, my mom would tell me that the movie was really great and I should watch it. So I would force myself to sit on the couch and watch it. And to my surprise the films held my attention and they were really good. In fact, I made a video for a class in high school and I wanted to shoot parts of it in black and white cause I liked the look. But film classes did help, because I was better able to understand the principles of lighting and how huge a deal lighting is in a good black and white film. Not that lighting isn't important in a color film as well....

LJ:
Right. You know it's funny, I think how your mom was for you, you are for me. You're the one going "you have to watch this movie it's so good!" and making me watch these old films. So good on ya! You're getting me to watch more movies!

To be continued...

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Recent Obsession

Since starting this blog, and getting back into my old cinephile ways, I’ve been kind of obsessed with why and how some people develop a love for old movies (and with old movies being a pretty elastic term, I mean roughly movies made before the late 60s/early 70s). For my own part it had a lot to do with my mom and her love for old movies, but it can’t merely be a question of exposure, since my brother was, arguably, more exposed to old movies than I was (my mom didn’t work when he was younger so she was home more often, watching movies on tv). Why did I fall in love with old black and white studio pictures, while my brother couldn’t be bothered to watch anything except Star Wars?

Obviously, some people are just more predisposed to like old things. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I also like old music of the 30s and 40s, and that I’m generally interested in the history of the earlier half of the century. My attraction to all things WWII-era began fairly early, first with Indiana Jones, then Dick Tracy (movie and comics), Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, A League of Their Own, and The Rocketeer. These movies all came out around the same time, and they were all set in that era of swing jazz, fedora hats, private dicks, and pretty dames and I fell in love with it all. These movies led me on a quest for more; I wanted as much of my grandparents’ era as I could get. So where do you turn if you want to experience the 1930s and 1940s? For me it was jazz and the movies. And what better way to experience that time period than to watch its movies. To watch not only movies set in the 40s but movies made in the 40s.

But this can’t be how every old movie lover came to be. And not every WWII-era buff falls in love with the era’s movies either. And I certainly branched out beyond that late 30s/early 40s time period (into silents, foreign, films of the 50s and 60s, cult, etc.). Obviously, dozens of things factored into my love for old movies, and obviously, the path to “classic movie lover” status is different for everyone. But how is a cinephile born? Why is it that some of us love this old stuff while others could take it or leave it? Since I’m obsessed with these questions of why and how, LeaJo has been kind enough to be a sort of guinea pig for my experiments. She’s agreed to watch some old movies and answer some questions I have, both about her opinions of the movies in particular and old movies in general. It’ll be a semi-regular feature here at the blog, and we’re calling it “Old Movie Dialogue,” since it’ll be formatted as a dialogue between LeaJo and myself. The hope (on my part) is that LeaJo will develop an appreciation, and perhaps even a love, for old movies. But at the very least I think it’ll be interesting to read LeaJo’s thoughts on these “classic” films – a fresh perspective from someone fairly new to the old movie scene.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Quote of the Week

"I don't like close-ups unless you can get a kick out of them, unless you need them. If you can get away with attitudes and positions that show the feeling of the scene, I think you're better off using the close-up only for absolute punctuation -- that's the reason you do it. And you save it -- not like TV where they do everything in close-up."

Howard Hawks

Sunday, October 15, 2006

How the movies helped me love baseball


I have to admit, I used to hate baseball. I was one of those uninformed, ignorant types who thought baseball was "slow" and "boring." I prefered faster-paced sports like basketball. I remember going to games at Tigers Stadium as a kid, but that was because my dad loved baseball and made us go. And I remember collecting baseball cards when I was younger, but that was because I had an older brother who collected them and I wanted to be a part of anything he did. I even used to go to Tigers Stadium with my friends back in high school and sit in the cheap seats and eat hot dogs and basically goof around, but I didn't really go for the baseball. I just went because it was something to do. Besides, the Tigers were bad back then. They were almost the worst just three years ago.

But I did love A League of Their Own. Make fun of me if you want, but I can recite nearly every line in that movie. And I did get a thrill when I watched Field of Dreams for the first time as a thirteen year old kid and saw Shoeless Joe emerge from the corn field. And I laughed along with my fellow 80s babies at silly kids movies like Rookie of the Year. I might have hated baseball but I loved baseball movies. I only knew who Ty Cobb was because I knew Tommy Lee Jones had played him in a movie. I enjoyed the mediocre Babe with John Goodman, then I went to Baltimore and was excited to see a statue of the real Babe at Camden Yard. I cried when Gary Cooper told Yankee Stadium he was the luckiest man on the face of the earth, and then suddenly I was a Yankees fan.

Suddenly I was watching games. Then came Eight Men Out, the White Sox 2005 season, and I was watching baseball every night during the playoffs. Suddenly I was watching baseball with my dad, only this time I wasn't being forced into it. Suddenly, the Tigers were the best team in baseball. Suddenly, the Tigers' performance in the playoffs was like something out of a movie. First we slayed the mighty Yankees, the old underdog story that's been told a million times. Then we swept Oakland, ending with a Magglio Ordonez three-run walk-off homer that looked and felt like it had been scripted in Hollywood's feel-good sports movie department.

Everything I knew about baseball I learned at the movies. Everthing I loved about baseball I got from the movies. The movies showed me the history, the American-ness of baseball. The deep tradition, the great drama of the national pastime, with its heroes and its heartbreaks.

The movies gave me baseball. And baseball has given me more than I ever dreamed it could. Bless you boys.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Goke, Body Snatcher from Hell (Hajime Sato, 1968, B)



I can't really love this film, mostly because A.) It wasn't really that scary or disturbing once the Goke alien showed up and turned characters into vampires, and B.) Because of the rather lame anti-Vietnam message (man is just killing man, for no reason, just senseless violence, etc. etc.). If the film had just stuck to the characters themselves, their own faults, their envy, pride, and rage, it would have been more profound, more universal, less dated. Instead, the stark, red-soaked montages of war violence (I'm assuming mostly footage from Vietnam), though visually interesting, are really simplistic thematically (yeah, okay, war is bad, thanks for that totally unoriginal, and tiresome point). But, what do you want from a horror/sci-fi B-movie, right?

The less forgiveable point is the lack of scares. The beginning is utterly perfect, from the strange behavior of the birds to the eery red sky. (n.b.: notice Tarantino steals the shot of the airplane flying against a sunset-red sky and puts it into Kill Bill vol. 1)


But once the Goke shows up it becomes pretty predictable and it didn't take long for me to figure out how things would end. Let's just say (possible spoilers ahead), it comes off very Twilight Zone-ish, and echoes a certain famous American sci-fi film of the 1950s. Of course, the American title kinda gives that one away.

Yet despite the fairly ordinary vampire/body snatcher stuff, the film really wins on visual style, use of color, and the straight-up drama stuff between the characters. There's the whole "survivors coping with each other and the natural tensions that arise" thing going on, as well as the tensions between characters that existed before the situation got freaky. I loved the relationship between the politican and the business man. The director does a fantastic job of fitting all of his characters into the frame at the same time, giving the film a very claustrophobic feel:
(contrasted with wide, high shots later in the film of characters running along a barren and empty terrain)

The use of color is extraordinary, with reds, whites, and blues being used to great effect:


On a storytelling level I thought the characters and their relationships with each other were great: the corrupt politican, the sychophantic business man, the emotionally frayed Vietnam war widow, the know-it-all psychologist, the co-pilot whose virtue and basic humanity are the only things the viewer can be sure of in this nightmare. There was a lot of psychological and sociological stuff being addressed in the film that really had nothing to do with the science fiction/horror element and the movie could have worked even without the Goke vampire stuff (don't misunderstand me, I love sci-fi and horror, but it just so happened that in this instance I was more interested in the "normal" stuff than the weird stuff -- and just to be fair, there was one moment in the film that really did scare me and that was when the Goke possessed one of the characters and was "speaking" through that character; the Goke's voice in this scene was frightening, and the way the scene ends was chilling). The drama between the characters was often more compelling than the drama of the vampire scenes. Of course, the vampire stuff (the bloodlust and violence of the Goke) was just a metaphor for the bloodlust and violence of humanity. The film asks us to think about who the real "monsters" are, the Goke or human beings. This universal point about Original Sin, about the danger of hate, envy, greed, and pride was more interesting to me than the rather weak point about Vietnam the film tried to make.

On the level of straight-up character drama, and on visuals, I would give the film a B+/A-, but because it's a relatively predictable horror/sci-fi plot I have to give it a very solid B.

(One more note: The music in this film drove my mom nuts -- there's a very high-pitched pulsing sound that we hear throughout scenes involving the Goke's space craft that just goes on and on. My mom kept going, "What IS that?!" But I loved it! It was annoying in that kind of good way that makes you wish it would stop and yet at the same time you're mesmerized by it. Leajo, think "Show show show, show show show, show show show, the show of shows show")

Monday, October 09, 2006

Quote of the Week

"All this compulsion to understand everything fills me with horror."
Luis Bunuel, My Last Sigh

Saturday, October 07, 2006

Don't tread on the the "D"




(Oh, and Go Blue!)

This was a good day for sports.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Quote of the Week

"There is a dreadful story that I hate actors. I can't imagine how such a rumor began. Of course it may possibly be because I was once quoted as saying that actors are cattle. My actor friends know I would never be capable of such a thoughtless, rude and unfeeling remark... What I probably said was that actors should be treated like cattle."
Alfred Hitchcock