drqshadow-reviews Reviews

King Kong (1933)

Movies' First Giant Monster Provides a Wild, Startlingly Edgy Ride

[7/10 · 20 June 2024]

While it may not have been the first, King Kong is undeniably the grandfather of monster movies. Shot in the pre-code days, its cavalier attitude and abundance of eye candy probably had just as much influence on the industry's forthcoming, self-imposed laws of decency as it did on Godzilla, Gamera and their kin. Kong was a major event in the early '30s, a big box office hit in the midst of the Great Depression and an indelible pop culture monument. Its magnitude, no doubt, gave the Hollywood elite much to consider. Dozens of men are violently killed on-screen. A three-story ape curiously peels off a woman's clothes and sniffs his fingers. Should we be showing this stuff to our kids? And so, subsequent re-releases were trimmed and cut. Repeatedly. One famously gruesome scene, in which a handful of men are devoured by spiders and insects, has never been restored. Not for lack of trying, let me tell you. It's one of film's most famous lost relics.

Suffice to say, the uncensored, old school version of King Kong is a trip. Once the first act's setup is out of the way, it's all about the uncompromising spectacle, all the time. Some effects hold up astonishingly well in the modern light (especially set pieces like the fifty-foot gate) while others, particularly the creature effects, are clunky but well-intentioned relics. This flick goes hard, pushing and experimenting at every opportunity, but always with the intent of broadening the world and deepening the immersion. So the giant ape close-ups look toothy and silly. Maybe the stop-motion action scenes stutter and jump from time to time. These pioneering filmmakers were flying without a manual, inventing skills that wouldn't be fine-tuned for decades. I find their dedication to trailblazing, in the name of richer cinema, admirable. If nothing else, it's fun to watch. On multiple levels.

Romancing the Stone (1984)

Light, Fluffy Adventure Fare in the Indiana Jones Mold

[5/10 · 20 June 2024]

Kathleen Turner plays a mousy romance novelist who's drawn into a South American adventure when her sister is kidnapped by an international smuggling ring. Fresh off the plane, she meets a slobbish, wannabe Indiana Jones (Michael Douglas), who agrees to act as her bodyguard and tour guide... for a price. Together, the unlikely duo dodges bullets, navigates musty caverns, swings over chasms and makes friends in unlikely places, avoiding detection by the bad guys while cracking the riddles of an ancient treasure map. The lingering question, though, is whether Douglas's rogue will still honor the agreed-upon price of $375 in traveler's checks once he catches sight of a far loftier prize.

This plot plays like one of its primary character's narrow, pulpy love stories. For a while, I thought that's where it was headed: everything a figment of the sad, lonesome novelist's imagination. Alas, while the adventure does inspire her to write a fictionalized account (which incites bays and swoons from her editor in a tacky bit of meta commentary), the stories' similarities are dismissed as mere coincidence en route to a more superficial resolution. That leaves us with a light, trashy romp through the jungle, a couple moments of near-chemistry between the stars and more than a few missed opportunities. The script provides some good laughs - more than you might expect given its age and demure personality - but the story is too thin and watery to wield much power. Surprising, too, that all the legwork and decision-making falls to the men. This action/adventure fable was famously penned by a woman and boasts a promising female lead, but when push comes to shove, Douglas calls the shots and Turner is just the damsel in distress.

Monsieur Hulot's Holiday (1953)

Shockingly Relaxed Humor; Comedy of a Different Feather

[7/10 · 9 June 2024]

Writer and director Jacques Tati plays the title character in this easygoing dose of vacation comedy. Hulot is a fun-loving man, perhaps a bit ignorant, whose oafish nature and noisy tendencies offend the stiff, upper-middle-class types vacationing in the same beach resort. Heralded by his spitting, sputtering old rag-top sports car, he bursts upon the tranquil scene like a hydrogen bomb, but eventually gives in to the spirit of the seaside, finding fleeting dashes of romance and relaxation amidst the salted air.

What's most striking about this is how passive and subdued everything feels. Where many western comedies are stuffed to the gills, breathless exhibits of punchlines and pratfalls, Monsieur Hulot is often content to merely set a serene mood and savor it. Paired with the still, peaceful scenery, Hulot's contrasting absurdities (and the laughs found elsewhere in the picture) hit a little harder. An example: the minute-long cutaway depicting a young boy, who carefully climbs a set of steep stairs with a dribbling cone of ice cream in each hand. As he ascends, the tension of "will this adorable youngster slip and spoil his treat" grows thicker with each deliberate step. The scene isn't a gag, though, just an observation, and its quiet, uneventful resolution (he delivers the second cone to a friend in the hotel lobby) coaxes us into letting our guards down. It's also a great example of the kind of warmth and contentedness that seeps from every frame. Tough to be in a bad mood after ninety minutes of this.

As complete films go, this one lacks. There's very little dialogue and only the barest scraps of a storyline. The scenery rarely changes, and the same is true of its characters. Most aren't even named. But that's not the point. This is a comedy about social nuance, or the lack thereof, and how one out-of-place actor can incite others to accidentally show their own silly side. Its humor is subtle and downplayed, but those who pay attention should find it very well-timed. The casual pace took some work to appreciate, but once I got over that hump I found it downright sublime. You won't laugh the whole way, but you'll certainly enjoy the experience.

Paths of Glory (1957)

Young Kubrick Takes a Bold Stance

[9/10 · 9 June 2024]

An early passion project from writer/director Stanley Kubrick, Paths of Glory was a troubled and unlikely film from the beginning. After he paired critical success with box office disappointment in The Killing, MGM was anxious to score a hit with the nascent director. His suggestion, a fictionalized courtroom account of a true WWI incident, wasn't quite what they had in mind. A moderately successful book some twenty years prior, its first adaptation was such a Broadway flop that every studio in Hollywood turned their noses at the forthcoming screenplay. Kubrick was rebuffed, too, until a behind-the-scenes shakeup and a high-profile benefactor presented him with an opportunity. Bolstered by new bosses at MGM and the support of a big-time star in Kirk Douglas, he managed just enough clout to get the thing made. And the end result? Another critical triumph cut with middling returns.

Paths of Glory isn't the kind of production that sells a lot of tickets. Its curt honesty doesn't allow for happy outcomes, and its vocal distrust of the state made far more enemies than friends back in the jingoistic days of 1957. In fact, the film's progressive views on war, military leadership and political justice earned it a spot on the blacklist in many countries, which can't have helped its profits. Never mind that its agenda was based in fact - a messy 1915 affair in which the French army executed four random soldiers as an example - as the Cold War ramped up, diplomatic allegiances carried more weight than morality. Germany withheld the film's release for two years and Spain nixed it for almost thirty. Switzerland banned it out of sheer sympathy for their French allies.

So, did it really merit that much fuss? Maybe. It's certainly a powerful film, with an effective message that confidently speaks against the establishment. Countless numbers of powerful men, coats lined with medals, meet in lush, comfortable environs to discuss both the fate of their troops and their own overdue promotions. They're mirrored by rows of aspiring middle-managers in the field; layer upon layer of miserable, self-serving opportunists who specialize in casting blame, not accepting it. Douglas plays the only sensible one in the bunch (or, at least, the only one with a modicum of power), talking down a vindictive general and personally defending the unlucky condemned in kangaroo court before venting a career's worth of frustrations at the film's climax. I'm sure there were still many higher-ups in office who recognized themselves in these characters and felt some discomfort. I wouldn't be surprised if they flexed a little muscle to rid themselves of the embarrassment.

Which is a shame, because it robbed the moviegoing public of an extremely well-crafted, intelligent, engrossing film. We're fortunate that it didn't also kneecap the career of one of cinema's finest creators. Kubrick would revisit the subject of war with Dr. Strangelove in 1964, then again in Full Metal Jacket sixteen years later. This overlooked gem deserves to stand right alongside them.

Three Colors: Blue (1993)

Grief Presents a Different Path for Each of Us

[8/10 · 9 June 2024]

When an automobile accident claims the lives of her husband and young daughter, a distraught French woman fades from view. Deliberately removing herself from the trappings of her former, affluent life, she ghosts her friends, rents a bare apartment in a slummy part of town, frequents the local coffee shop and waits for a new life to come knocking. Which it does, along with a few pesky remnants of her old one. In the end, she must choose between cherishing the best years of her early adulthood and discarding their memory in favor of a fresh start.

Although this is a film about loss, it's not a drag. Not entirely, anyway. While she's frequently stung by echoes of her past, Julie gradually grows to accept and appreciate these reflections as more than just monuments to a misfortune. Over time, she opens herself to new people and experiences she would've avoided before the accident. After she's had time to think it over, she uses an unfinished musical composition to explore different aspects of her ex-husband and the relationship they shared. Personal tragedy isn't the only challenge we see Julie face, but in showing grace and generosity to solve other obstacles, she learns to process her loss, heal, and let go. I found that beautiful.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)

Which of These Characters Truly Belong in an Asylum?

[9/10 · 9 June 2024]

Sentenced to a term of hard labor, charismatic inmate Randle McMurphy (Jack Nicholson) thinks he's found a way to beat the system. Though he may not have fooled the staff of a nearby asylum, protocol insists they humor his pleas of insanity and he's given a bed in their ward; out of the sun and away from the back-breaking work camp. But while he may not be busting his hump in a physical sense, Randle soon discovers that this institution has its own ways of crushing unruly subjects. Particularly those who threaten to undermine their authority.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest's most visceral story elements revolve around the fundamental discord between Nicholson's anti-establishment loudmouth and the dominating, manipulative Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher). This antithetical duo was destined to cross swords from the first frame, and their mutual disdain soon spins far out of control. Both have empathy for the other patients - McMurphy makes friends and encourages them to think for themselves, while Ratched seeks peace and conformity to better address their ailments - but really, they're both just looking out for themselves. Where Randle intends to use the chaos as a means to escape, Fletcher's nurse is clearly out to stroke her own ego. They orbit, collide, recoil and stiffen like a pair of wily old boxers, feinting and jabbing their way through a series of unfair mental games that go right over the heads of their poor, exploited co-conspirators. Two rich, complex characters, expertly realized by a pair of top-tier actors. Both took home well-deserved Oscars for these roles.

This powerful, multi-faceted character study touches all corners, not just those occupied by the most visible leading characters. Its subplots and side narratives are equally loaded, with a superb supporting cast that includes the film debuts of both Danny DeVito and Christopher Lloyd. Both, as one might expect, shine despite the limited exposure. The younger Lloyd is darn near unrecognizable behind his crew cut and dark, unflinching gaze. A mean, haunting, tragic comedy that promises to linger in the subconscious for days.

The 36th Chamber of Shaolin (1978)

Like San Te, This Film Needs Time to Settle Down and Find its Way

[7/10 · 22 May 2024]

Craving retribution against the murderous Manchu army, an orphaned student seeks guidance and, more importantly, martial arts training at a secluded mountaintop monastery. There, he faces the thirty-five challenges that separate novice from master, devotes himself to an intensive training ritual and learns to soothe his troubled spirit.

This one took a while to get moving. The plot-heavy first act is a real chore to push through, loaded as it is with difficult names and unnecessary political exposition. That's all cast aside when the wayward student, San Te, escapes his pursuers and staggers, wounded, into the Shaolin temple. The ensuing training sequence, which stretches to encompass seven years of his life (and a majority of the film's running time), is pure dynamite. We don't see all thirty-odd stations, but the ones we do are riveting; clever puzzles and challenges of more than just the physical variety. These monks practice an excruciatingly strict regimen that demands mastery of body and mind alike. Philosophically-charged kung fu at its very best.

Showcased in the leading role, Gordon Liu carries the film. His action cred is undeniable - lightning-fast and tightly disciplined - but those skills weren't entirely uncommon in 1970s Hong Kong. Liu's ability to convey complicated emotions, wordlessly, with grace and subtlety, is rarer stuff. The movie's much better off when it embraces its role as a simple, introspective action flick and forgets its aspirations to be a meandering historical epic. So is Liu. Released from the wordy tangles of the film's initial half-hour, he blossoms as a quiet, conflicted Buddhist with a special talent for violence.

Not without its flaws, The 36th Chamber of Shaolin is magical when it finally gets cooking. Its prologue is far too long and its climax is thin and lazy, but those crazy chamber trials, like a string of meditative Double Dare challenges, should be seen by all fans of the genre.

Up in Smoke (1978)

Burnout Humor at its Most Blunt

[5/10 · 20 May 2024]

The original stoner comedy, from the duo that helped push pot out of the fringe and into the mainstream. Up in Smoke casts Cheech and Chong as very mildly fictionalized versions of themselves, absent-mindedly cruising the streets of Los Angeles (and, eventually, Tijuana) in search of a fresh score. There, they meet an increasingly loony assortment of crackpots and crazies, dodge about a dozen police busts, smoke or swallow everything in front of them and, finally, show up on stage for the main event in a local battle of the bands.

I've probably seen this 2-3x in bits and pieces over the years, but as this was my first single-sitting experience, I got myself good and high before diving in. Even in the right state of mind, I didn't think it was a very big hit: a good ride for the first half-hour, but the novelty quickly wears off. Watching the boys bond over a colossal joint, which Chong just so happened to carry in a secret pocket somewhere, is a hoot. Their glazed expressions and loose associations with reality are dead-on, familiar to anyone who's ever been stoned at a party, or seen someone thus engaged. The headliners lather it on thick, delighted to share their happily-confused states of mind with a similarly inclined audience, and for a while that's good enough. Eventually, even the burnout in me started to yearn for more than pot gags and bad slapstick. The best bits still land - the famous "fiberweed" van that powers the home stretch is a great example - but a majority of these ideas probably sounded better on paper than they actually play on the screen. After the third or fourth go-around, the punchline of another accidentally-stoned cop loses its charm.

This was probably a revelation in '78, when blunt weed references were still edgy and rebellious and cocaine was downright taboo. Now that the latter has fallen out of fashion and the former is available in chic, glitzy Apple Store sales environments, it's just a couple funny guys floating through a very thin premise. Watching this was like getting high with my dad. Not really a bad time, but a little awkward and you're going to hear the same stories over and over again.

Dawson City: Frozen Time (2016)

Beautiful Footage, Haunting Musical Cues and a Well-Constructed Historical Record

[8/10 · 20 May 2024]

During the late 1970s, somewhere near the Arctic circle, construction crews unearthed literal buried treasure. Beneath the ruins of an old rec center, covered by a hockey rink, lay a stash of nitrate film prints; lost relics from Hollywood's past. In all, nearly four hundred silent films were recovered and whisked away for restoration. Dated between 1903 and 1929, they'd been largely preserved and protected by the permafrost. An honest-to-god time capsule.

Frozen Time sees opportunity in this old discovery, both to explore the past and to recognize the faded artistry of a bygone age. Using footage pulled directly from the cache, we note Dawson's earliest days as a gold rush destination, its transformation into a small, family-oriented town with an appetite for cinema, and its gradual decline into obsolescence. Not exactly an unusual story for this region, but the top-notch presentation (all music and title cards, just like those forgotten films) and a few rich surprises make for irresistible viewing material. And the silent movie highlights, curated with a care, are something special. Absolutely mesmerizing.

Along the way, we also get a little history lesson about the nuts and bolts of film. An essential component of the larger story that explains why pictures from this era are so scarce (a jaw-dropping 75% of all silent movies are now considered lost) and how so many of them wound up stranded in the same unlikely place. Fans of Ken Burns and very early cinema will have a field day with this. Count me among them.

Die Hard 2 (1990)

McClane Goes Guns-Out in a More Straight-Laced Adventure

[5/10 · 20 May 2024]

Another Christmas, another set of terrorists for beleaguered celebrity cop John McClane. All our hero wants is to collect his wife from the airport, talk his way out of a parking ticket and crash in a warm hotel bed. Instead, instincts get the best of him. Giving chase to suspicious characters, he exchanges gunfire in the baggage warehouse, butts heads with cocky local authorities and uncovers a plot to spring a political prisoner by shutting down air traffic control.

The airport represents an effort to expand McClane's character beyond the claustrophobic confines of a high-rise office building, but the larger setting is probably a mistake. Where Nakatomi Plaza provided ready-made tension, with gunmen conceivably around every corner, the extended Dulles Airport is a sprawling, confusing set that rarely feels connected. The lead doesn't really benefit from his new environs, either. While he remains personable, resourceful and daring, traits which made him appealing in the first film, his new status as a bulletproof action hero is a backwards step. John's sense of self-preservation, careful caution in a dangerous situation, once made him sympathetic and real. Somewhere between the escalator shootout against overwhelming odds and his leap from a helicopter to the wing of a taxiing jumbo jet, that went out the window. He's gone full Stallone / Schwarzenegger in the sequel, and mastered the art of clairvoyance to boot. Bruce Willis remains magnetic in the role, but this isn't the same desperate, punchy character that powered the original. He's lost a lot of that edge.

As generic action movies go, one could choose worse. Though this example is rife with obvious plot holes, it does go hard and the action scenes pluck all the right notes. The big explosions are appropriately bright and well-spaced; men are nearly run over on the tarmac, and one falls into a jet engine; the hero fires guns from all sorts of vehicles and vantage points. The terrorists' big plot is far too twisty, though, and I think the narrative would've been better off without the cut-aways to McClane's wife aboard a delayed, circling passenger plane.

Star Trek: First Contact (1996)

TNG Takes Center Stage in This Spirited Adventure

[6/10 · 17 May 2024]

In their first solo feature, the cast of Star Trek: The Next Generation reconvenes to follow the Borg through a temporal vortex. Popping out in the mid-21st century, the cybernetic bad guys plan to stunt (and eventually assimilate) the Earth's population by nixing its fabled first warp-powered flight and ensuing contact with extraterrestrial life. This puts the Enterprise b-team in close proximity to Zefram Cochrane, a revered historical figure in their time, who bristles at the prospect of becoming a legend. Elsewhere, Data is tempted by the prospect of becoming more tangibly human and Picard struggles to address his personal connection to the enemy.

It may have been too soon for Star Trek to play the time travel card again, ten years after The Voyage Home. While First Contact's plot is distinct enough, it often relies on the same vein of comic incongruity for relief. Modern engineer talks shop, Starfleet graduates share a knowing smile - that sort of thing. We've already been there and done that, so much of the Earthbound humor doesn't connect. Picard's push for vengeance, and its noted similarity to Captain Ahab, provides the more interesting developments, anyway. Even if they are tempered by the nonsensical introduction of a sexy female mother cyborg, a mess of curves and cords who does her best to seduce man and synthetic alike. I preferred the Borg as a mindless collective, dedicated to overwhelming the galaxy through cold logic and sheer numbers alone.

First Contact's mood represents a welcome shift from the stale, serious tone of preceding films. This chapter is more action oriented, but also softer, with a recognizable admiration for the TV series. In fact, it could easily pass as a big-budget, multi-part episode of either TNG or TOS. And, while that's a strength in terms of tone, it also applies in less favorable respects. The story assumes prior knowledge of the cast (there's no reason to care about Riker, Crusher and Geordi otherwise), its acting is generally a step below what we'd expect from a big studio feature, the sets look cheap and the special effects haven't aged well at all.

Still an enjoyable light sci-fi adventure, with spirit and charm, but not quite the level-up that one might expect from a popular show turned film franchise.

Dune: Part Two (2024)

Paul Graduates from Heir to Revolutionary, But at What Cost?

[7/10 · 17 May 2024]

Those looking for more of the same from Denis Villenueve's Dune franchise can rest easy. The sequel offers precisely that, in every sense, but this isn't always good news. While the immense set pieces, rich multi-cultural landscape, challenging moral dilemmas and dazzling visual effects remain intact, so does the glacial pacing, extreme duration, cloudy cerebral temperament and ambiguous ending. That last aspect is particularly frustrating, given the previous film's equally flat, abrupt mid-stream fadeout. Fool me once, shame on you, as they say. Which isn't to say I was less than entertained. Despite its proud eccentricities, and certainly a case of diminishing returns, Dune 2 had me on the hook from the word go. It's not a conclusion, though, just another chapter, and after almost six hours of fruitless culmination, I grow impatient.

The first film left our protagonist, Paul Atreides, on the brink of an existential revelation. Forced into exile by galactic politics, he finds uneasy refuge amongst the über-religious desert dwellers. Though their leaders debate his intentions, he proves capable and joins the cause, sabotaging the efforts of his fellow off-worlders in acts of guerrilla rebellion. These scenes are the film's finest, as Paul attempts to straddle the thin line between messiah and outcast amidst a sea of critical eyes. He doesn't just learn to become a sand walker, or to take advantage of an ancient, convenient prophecy, he discovers what it means to be a man. Paul's growth from apprehensive nobody to charismatic leader is well-earned, as is his respect for the manner and traditions of the native people. So convincing, is this development, that I felt a palpable sense of betrayal when he inevitably returns to the old interstellar chess board for revenge. I mean, I felt personally offended. That's great storytelling, no matter how muddied it might get along the way.

And muddy it is. Alongside the brilliant character moments and astounding set pieces (Paul's long-foreshadowed sandworm ride is especially epic), Villenueve's sequel indulges in all sorts of metaphysical ramblings. Many seemingly important plot developments occur off-screen, which makes the timeline difficult to pin down. A number of major players are killed off, suddenly and without ceremony, robbing their deaths of weight and circumstance. If the first film had a few minor concerns, this one has genuine issues. I'd include a certain weird, surprise casting decision among these. Part One had no shortage of celebrity actors in key roles, but each fit their part and enhanced the whole. This guy sticks out like a red thumb.

So it's good, but not that good, even if its creators might think it is. Where the first film felt confident and ambitious, this one's a little more smug and self-assured. Perhaps the widespread acclaim surrounding the original had a negative influence.

From Up on Poppy Hill (2011)

Ghibli Explores the Tenuous Wonders of Adolescent Romance

[9/10 · 3 May 2024]

Young love sprouts amidst efforts to save a beloved campus clubhouse in this charming, small-scale schoolyard drama from Studio Ghibli. The product of a single-parent household, Umi is a responsible teenager whose dedication to preparing family meals takes precedence over her after-school activities. That changes when she meets Shun, a similarly bright, composed boy who introduces her to bustling afternoons in the Latin Quarter, a dusty, three-story, common meeting ground for extracurriculars. Drawn together, the two nurture a spark, but something comes up before they can make anything of it. In its aftermath, they're forced to step back, reassess their feelings and try to move forward as friends when they were so close to becoming something more.

Like the very best Ghibli locales, the Latin Quarter brims with life, color and delightful peculiarity; a chaotic mess of excited kids with diverse tastes. The students' enthusiasm for the building, and for preserving it when the administration threatens to have it replaced, brings essential flavor to a film that might otherwise seem too softly-spoken. Its relief allows the simple beauty of Umi and Shun's relationship, and the poignant resolution of their individual stories, room to unfold at a more appropriate pace. A dueling narrative that serves both, short-changing neither. And, in between the heady personal drama and the energetic activities around the old building, there's sill time to explore the peaceful, everyday life around 1960s Yokohama. Rich rewards for those with the patience to soak it all in. It's a real delight.

Tom Petty Somewhere You Feel Free (2021)

Even in Times of Adversity, Tom Petty Seems at Peace

[8/10 · 3 May 2024]

Released in the fall of '94, Wildflowers came about during a period of change for Tom Petty. His first album since leaving MCA for Warner, and his first solo record since the 1989 smash hit Full Moon Fever, it introduced a new drummer (original Heartbreaker Stan Lynch left the group during recording) and tested the waters with a fresh producer. Petty was also in the early stages of separating from his wife of twenty-plus years, which led his songwriting in softer, more contemplative directions.

Armed with an exhaustive collection of candid behind-the-scenes footage, filmed and narrated by friends and family, this documentary takes us beyond the veil of a rock legend to reveal the man beneath. Fans won't be disappointed: the famously mellow, good-natured singer seems just as cool in the studio as he was on the stage. The music still holds up, too. It's been a few years since I gave this one a listen, but the old magic drifted back like memories of a good friend. Petty's one of those guys most people don't realize they love as much as they do. His greatest hits album is all killer, no filler, a dozen-and-a-half cuts that charted the course of pop/rock throughout the '70s and '80s. Wildflowers follows that same blueprint. It's rock-solid; even the deep cuts are grooves.

This record was a challenge - a lengthy writing and recording process that demanded tough answers and moved in uncomfortable directions - but the Petty we see in Somewhere You Feel Free faced it with patience and good humor. It's a privilege to eavesdrop on his constructive working relationship with longtime bandmates, to hear familiar songs emerge from rough drafts, and to catch his rapport with new producer Rick Rubin, who pushes him to expand his sound and test his limits as an artist. The world lost a little luster when Petty passed in 2017.

Footloose (1984)

Teen Rebellion and Killer Tunes From the Heart of the '80s

[7/10 · 29 April 2024]

Hip teen Kevin Bacon moves from the big city to a podunk town in the sticks, where he's shocked to learn that dancing has been forbidden. The absurd legal prohibition frustrates his fellow high schoolers, but they find other ways to act out. Particularly Ariel, the preacher's daughter, a would-be angel who rebels against her ultra-conservative upbringing by sleeping around and risking her life in a string of dumb stunts. Bacon's boundless confidence and earnest manner nets him plenty of friends around the school, and the romantic attentions of Ariel, but also waves red flags in the community. Doubly so when he speaks out at a council meeting and organizes a senior prom, complete with rock music and dancing, at a grain mill just outside city limits.

This one kept surprising me. It skips most traps of the silly, stereotypical '80s high school comedy and delivers an impressively thoughtful, level-headed take on the generational divide. Bacon's character is a smart, personable, even-tempered sort who has no trouble forming lasting friendships and possesses the self-assurance to call out his peers when they posture and front. He pushes his friends to grow and his opponents to think again, shows maturity in tough situations and, darn it, he really, really loves to dance. Intense, precise, balletic dancing. Especially when he's all charged up with adolescent rage in an abandoned warehouse. Even the hard line preacher / councilman (John Lithgow), driving force behind the city's anti-dance crusade, is afforded a layered, sympathetic back story. I wasn't prepared for so much impartiality in a music-driven PG comedy from the heart of the '80s.

While its tempo is up, Footloose is a refreshing change of pace for an era that was flush with shallow screwball sitcoms. Though it provides an easy conflict, a catchy pop soundtrack and an embarrassment of montages, just like many of those contemporaries, its cast is less clichéd and more human. Most of the third act lingers in self-pity, an excessive drag, but it rebounds in time for the big finale and hits the credits at just the right time. Much better than I expected.

Air Bud (1997)

Cheap, Dumb and Cheesy; Air Bud's Statline is Padded

[3/10 · 29 April 2024]

I mean, it's a movie about a golden retriever playing competitive basketball. My expectations were low going in. Still, even by the standards of a dumb, one-note, live-action Disney Channel daydream, Air Bud is uh, not great. Cut out the dog and you've seen this plot a thousand times before: middle school kid loses his father (a FIGHTER PILOT), moves to a new town, struggles to make friends, kicks rocks for a few weeks, befriends an affable janitor and dutifully wins the hearts and minds of the school basketball team. Bland, sappy, overplayed material. Tossed into that mix is said retriever, literally kicked to the curb by a cruel middle-aged party clown, who sees the kid as a kindred spirit and, oh yeah, also has a nasty jump shot. Cue the practice montage, the "technically there's no rule against it" referee's decision, and (eventually) the vengeful former owner looking for a slice of the pie.

The dog's fun to have around, but his schtick is just entertaining enough for a short, lighthearted clip on the evening news. The rest of the movie is as blunt and cheesy as they come; a dozen soap opera acting performances paired with a heaping dose of white bread morality. Bad slapstick around every corner. Bud hits the same shot thirty times in slightly different environs, always accompanied by delighted cheers and uplifting music. Once, he does so while wearing a jersey and cute doggy-sized sneakers. Despite its depiction on the box art, he attempts no dunks. No dunking dog! What are we even doing here?

The Testament of Dr. Mabuse (1933)

Lang's Dazzling Technically Proficiency Masks a Thin Plot and Slow Pace

[6/10 · 29 April 2024]

For his second "talkie," pioneering filmmaker Fritz Lang crafted a sequel to one of his early silent pictures. It sees the titular villain, once a brilliant criminal mastermind, now reduced to an empty, twitching husk in an asylum bed. Although most of his capabilities have left him, Mabuse's right hand still follows orders and, provided with pen and paper, he's able to sightlessly scrawl a steady stream of evil plots from the abyss. Soon enough, a mysterious figure steps forward to assemble a posse and enact the madman's schemes, while a police inspector and a lovesick turncoat rush to crack the case before a broader anarchic manifesto can be realized.

In a purely technical sense, this film was years ahead of the curve. During his prime, Lang was one of cinema's first true masters, pushing the envelope in ways that his contemporaries hadn't even dreamed about. Mabuse is dense, dark and atmospheric, cynical like a film noir, with a dazzling capacity for grandiose scenery and an unrivaled cinematic eye. In such respects, its influence can't be denied. Decades of nascent auteurs took notes on these experiments and applied them to their own works. I appreciate it far more in that sense than I do as a narrative. At two hours and change, it's fatty and sluggish, trading essential tempo beats for a few extra moments' gaze at the scenery. In this sense, it falls into the same trap that snared many contemporaries. There isn't enough story to justify this long a telling, and the climactic home stretch feels dated and hollow.

While it's noteworthy for its cinematic innovations, the film also marked a turning point in Lang's career. During production of Testament, the Nazi party claimed national power and made an effort to recruit the director for official propaganda purposes. Lang told them he'd think about it, packed his bags, fled the country and never went back. Joseph Goebbels soon deemed the film subversive and banned it from German theaters, though he kept a copy for himself and allegedly screened it in private for certain guests.

For All Mankind (1989)

Poetic Reflections Aboard the Apollo Capsules

[7/10 · 29 April 2024]

A romantic oral history the Apollo moon missions, as told by the participating crew members. Although this phase of the space program spanned four years, ten missions and six crewed landings, the filmmakers have bundled the whole lot together in a single loose narrative, presumably to avoid covering the same subjects multiple times. Other documentaries, before and since, have addressed the scientific, societal and dramatic aspects of each excursion. This one takes a more personal angle. What did the Apollo astronauts see, hear, feel and imagine while they coasted through the cosmos at 25,000 miles an hour?

Our answers are culled from a cache of old materials - candid handheld footage, behind-the-scenes film and spoken recollections - and they reveal a refreshingly human side of the team. Now that we've erected statues and dedicated textbook chapters in their honor, it's easy to paint these guys into a corner as something more; hard-nosed, no-nonsense, tirelessly dedicated to the job and nothing else. In reality, they were snared by feelings of isolation, reflection, jealousy, elation and wonder, just like anyone. The trip to the moon is a long one, so it probably shouldn't come as such a surprise that the crew allowed themselves ample time for quiet, poetic rumination. For All Mankind is at its best while indulging such flights of fancy. Marveling at the dozens of campfires spread over the African continent after dark, each representing a unique Saharan tribe. Pondering the significance of it all whilst a stark, shrinking Earth is offset by a field of infinite darkness. Sharing a good private joke with the boys back in mission control. Enjoying the score of 2001: A Space Odyssey while screaming towards the unknown. It all serves as great imagination fuel that comforts, excites and broadens the mind.

Though it's short on duration and light on background, For All Mankind provides a wealth of intellectual brain candy and frequent insights that border on the profound. It's neat to contrast Armstrong and Aldrin's dreamy observations from the first expedition with those of Harrison Schmitt on the last, but I'd have appreciated better orientation. It can be confusing to leap straight from the famous Apollo 13 near-disaster to another flight's successful landing on the lunar surface, and that could've been avoided with a few simple captions. In the end, this well-regarded documentary contains a wonderful assortment of almost-lost footage that deserves to be preserved forever, but its presentation could've use some fine-tuning.

Amistad (1997)

Spielberg's Slavery Picture Features Great Performances, Good-Enough Production

[6/10 · 29 April 2024]

As the debate over slavery tears through early nineteenth-century America, the occupants of a small Cuban schooner find themselves caught in the political and judicial storm. When it's intercepted by a US cruiser near the east coast, the vessel carries two brow-beaten Spaniard navigators and some forty African captives. Targets and perpetrators of a violent insurrection, as it happens, and soon the subjects of an international dispute. Though most lawmen recognize that it doesn't justify such scrutiny, the ensuing court case becomes a hot-button public issue, weaving its way through the court system and threatening to set a contentious legal precedent at the onset of the Civil War.

Though he fudges a few historical details, Spielberg's big slavery epic gets the mood and the messaging right. Part self-righteous morality lesson and part wordy courtroom drama, Amistad often leans on its star-studded cast to hook the audience. In this, it chooses wisely. Where the production is often dry, fickle and melodramatic, its key performances have flavor to spare. Morgan Freeman and Matthew McConaughey, both as steady and reliable as ever, chew a lot of screen as core members of an abolitionist legal team. Anthony Hopkins transforms a short, preachy almost-cameo role as ex-president John Quincy Adams into a nuanced, impassioned, can't miss performance. But all three bow before the efforts of a virtual unknown: Djimon Hounsou, who would go on to play memorable supporting parts in Gladiator and Guardians of the Galaxy, steals this show. As de facto spokesman of the would-be slaves, Hounsou demonstrates power, bravado and charismatic magnetism, all without speaking more than three words of English. His character is the film's lifeblood, its touchstone, and Hounsou ensures the audience can't look away.

Beyond the acting, though, Amistad is just decent. It looks and feels very of-its-time, especially as serious, message-driven films went in the late '90s. Efficiently produced, steadily interesting and sufficiently meaty, it doesn't go above and beyond in any of those respects. A reasonable night's entertainment, but apart from Hounsou's blow-away performance, I won't remember it in a few months.

Braindead (1992)

Blood and Gore for its Own Sake - Dead Alive is Shallow, but Enthusiastic

[3/10 · 29 April 2024]

This schlocky, infamous dose of early '90s body horror waves its admiration for the Evil Dead films like a flag. More specifically, it sets out to emulate the campy humor, cheeky one-liners and gross-out special effects of Sam Raimi's slapstick screamers. As story goes, Dead Alive only provides the bare minimum. There's a plot, some silly gibberish about a Sumatran rat-monkey whose bite induces zombism, but it's nothing more than a vehicle from one zany, gore-drenched horror-gasm to the next. The monkey gets its claws into an old woman, she spreads the infection, her doting son takes it upon himself to clean up the mess... that's really all you need to know.

At heart, this is a fond, playful farewell for budding director Peter Jackson; his last (and bloodiest) low-budget splatter-fest before moving on to more serious material. And why not shift genres at this point? He's just left everything on the abattoir floor. Dead Alive is so morbidly droll, so wickedly juvenile, so blissfully profane, it's impossible to imagine a bridge much further. Any time it seems the hijinx cannot possibly get any more obscene, whoops, here comes something much, much worse. The unregulated mayhem is admirable, absurd hilarity at its best, but even at a breezy ninety-odd minutes, the total reliance on shock value wears thin. I cackled for an hour, but somewhere between the food processor baby and the shoulder-mounted lawnmower, I could feel my smile fade. Diminishing returns, I'm afraid.

Make no mistake: Dead Alive is bad cinema. It's crammed full of weak performances, overbearing camera angles and cut-rate soundtrack riffs (at unnecessary volume levels). And man, it's ruthlessly stupid. But stupid doesn't always equate to no fun. This is a ball while it lasts, and there's no question that Jackson and company are in on the joke, but it doesn't last forever. Not as long as the film does, anyway. Bad + entertaining is still bad.

All the King's Men (1949)

How to Build a Bureaucratic Monster

[5/10 · 29 April 2024]

When a frustrated farmer speaks his mind and cultivates a grassroots political following, he's recruited to throw his hat into a state-wide election. It's a trick, of course, a ruse by the incumbent to split votes during a contentious campaign, and the initial results are effective. On the trail, our farmer is flustered and overwhelmed, a neophyte in over his head who struggles to maintain his former vigor while remaining on-message. Eventually he figures things out - both the deception and the secrets of electoral success - and, though it's too late for that first ballot, he applies these lessons four years later with far better returns. While he may still have a lot to learn about the gig, the state's new governor doesn't need instruction on everything. Like the correlation between power and corruption.

The core of this idea is strong. There's pathos in watching a good person fall victim to the system, sacrificing ideals in favor of popular acclaim and personal rewards. Broderick Crawford is exceptional in that role, retaining shades of the simple man he once was in the grand narcissist he eventually becomes. The editing is all over the place, though, and that can make for some very difficult sailing as the plot intensifies and Crawford's actions grow more erratic. Rumor has it that director Robert Rossen's original cut was obscenely long and borderline-incoherent, leading to more drastic edits that left countless scenes and stories shredded. Lost subplots are referenced without explanation. Mid-stream conversations abruptly fade to the next scene. Minor characters are never properly introduced, only tossed into the churn. This makes for a frustrating, confusing watch and eventually robs the inevitable climax of some power. Even that crucial moment wasn't immune to the editor's knife, it seems.

I feel like this particular best picture winner was rewarded for the potential of what it could have been, more than the reality of what it is. It definitely has the bones to be something great, but the end result is an underachievement.

Sunset Boulevard (1950)

Eventually, the Parade Leaves Everyone Behind...

[8/10 · 6 March 2024]

While evading a team of repo men, a struggling writer stashes his car in the garage of what he thinks is an abandoned Beverly Hills mansion. Soon spotted by the resident, a delusional former silent film star, he agrees to step inside and spies opportunity in her desperation. She's been working on a crappy screenplay, the crux of a comeback effort, and he figures he can bleed a few months' salary out of a rewrite. She agrees, even invites him to live in the palace rent-free, but as their arrangement grows beyond mere professional courtesy, he begins to question which of them is the spider and which the fly.

A faded silent starlet herself, Gloria Swanson shines anew as Norma Desmond, the unhinged actress who thinks she's doing the studio a favor by emerging from retirement. Like a triumphant former queen back from exile, this misguided character believes she's bigger than the scene, but in truth it's Swanson's performance that's oversized. Manic and complex, her unsettling depiction plucks every note from pride to despondency, manipulating her target(s) and the audience alike. She plays well with costar William Holden, whose straight delivery lends gravitas while his inner conflict grows increasingly panicked. Although the opening scene surprisingly spoils his fate, both characters remain sharply written and unpredictable right to the inevitable climax.

Hollywood does love a film about itself, and this one was certainly blessed with an embarrassment of accolades. Nominated for nearly a dozen awards at Oscar time, its constant winks and nods to the industry could have easily felt cheap and pandering. Instead, they enrich the fabric without overshadowing the tapestry. Quick, wonderful cameos from the likes of Buster Keaton and Cecil B. DeMille reinforce crucial plot points, while the backstage pressures of life among the silver screen's less-celebrated feeds directly into the drama. A sad, sardonic glimpse at the harsh realities of the business and the avenues some stars navigate after the never-ending gala has moved on without them.

The Killer (1989)

Cutting-Edge Action Scenes and Gunsmoke for Miles

[6/10 · 6 March 2024]

Writer / director John Woo essentially invented a sub-genre with the string of hits he released in the late '80s and early '90s. Later dubbed "heroic bloodshed" films, their plots typically place a conscientious anti-hero in conflict with his superiors, pitting loyalty against a private code of honor. Essentially pure and simple action movies with an added dash of self-reflection and a jaw-dropping capacity for ammunition. This one, sandwiched in the middle of a six-year collaboration with star Chow Yun-Fat, would become the pair's international breakthrough.

In The Killer's setup, Woo pays tribute to a personal influence. Calmly infiltrating a busy night club to fulfill a contract, Yun-Fat slays the manager and fatefully encounters a beautiful lounge singer, just like in Jean-Pierre Melville's fashion-conscious 1967 gangster film, Le Samouraï. The similarities end there. In the ensuing firefight, the girl is inadvertently blinded and the killer has an epiphany, casting aside his career to atone for the collateral damage. At first, he's tracked by a persistent undercover officer, but the two soon develop a sense of mutual respect and unite against a common enemy.

Though the intention may have been for an even split between fierce, kinetic violence and soul-searching contemplation, only the former aspects are worth mentioning. Bad dialogue, ham-fisted delivery and a clunky, low-rate production may spoil the film's deeper aspirations, but hey, at least the fight scenes are lights out. Easy to see how the title character, and this film, has influenced action cinema for decades to come: he's John Wick, twenty-five years ahead of the curve. Yun-Fat is perfect in that role, always the coolest guy in the room and a fluid natural with pistols and rifles of all sizes. That said, the constant gunplay can grow tiresome, especially during the jumbo-sized final shootout, and the main characters' plot armor is outrageously thick. A fun ride, if perhaps a bit shallow. Remember to wear ear protection.

Bonnie and Clyde (1967)

Kindred Spirits Bring Out the Best (and Worst) in Each Other

[7/10 · 26 February 2024]

Born without a penny to their names, nor the promise of a future worth living, a pair of depression-era twenty-somethings find motivation in one another. Emboldened by their romance and certain about their invulnerability, the pair sets off to get rich quick via a string of car thefts and brazen, bloody daylight robberies. Joined by a small trio of accomplices, tales of their exploits soon capture the public imagination in an age when many felt hopeless, crushed and discarded by the system.

This film brings us up-close and personal with the title characters and their little family, learning about their various quirks and tics between heists. Like most young adults, Bonnie and Clyde's self-confidence is both a blessing and a curse. Their opportunistic nature makes them difficult to track but also traps them in some very sticky situations. They don't intend to commit mass murder, but when the other shoe drops (and it often does), sometimes their guns are the only way out and hey, better you than me. An experienced criminal, Clyde knows the score, but Bonnie sees their cross-country escapade as a sort of childish fantasy, never truly recognizing how much danger she's in until the numbers catch up and the situation grows dire. They're just kids, playing at being adults, but the law ain't messing around.

Looking back almost sixty years later, the amount of blood and violence depicted in Bonnie and Clyde hardly seems excessive. It can be harsh and brutal at times, sure, but these doomed lovers chose a harsh, brutal life together and the film portrays that appropriately. Nobody's ever robbed a bank with cap guns and candy apples, after all, or ditched the police by blowing kisses through a window. Way back in 1967, however, this was held up as evidence of our decaying moral fabric and many contemporary reviews were outraged. What kind of cinema will our children be watching, should this awful trend towards graphic bloodshed continue? I'd hate to see their reactions to Tarantino.

The Last of the Mohicans (1992)

This Pre-Revolutionary Love Story Offers Good Action, Great Music and Sub-Par Romance

[5/10 · 26 February 2024]

Love, adventure and hand-to-hand combat at the peak of the French and Indian War. On the outskirts of the battlefield, a white man and his adopted native family scoff at the Brits' latest recruiting efforts and move to abandon their land, but happen upon an ambush on the way out of town and find themselves drawn into the conflict anyway. Now accompanied by a pair of pampered ladies and their posh one-man military escort, the small brood resumes its cautious retreat with an angry Mohawk war party in hot pursuit.

Under the guidance of emerging director Michael Mann, The Last of the Mohicans is a sleek, well-produced picture. It boasts a superb soundtrack, several big, diverse fight scenes and a powerful climax, but the plot is slow, the performances are stiff and the central romances lack a collective spark. Native brothers Uncas (Eric Schweig) and Hawkeye (Daniel Day Lewis) wear a wide assortment of grim, determined faces, which serve them well during the action sets, but their matchmaker moments with the two rescued damsels seem more convenient than romantic and I didn't buy into their oft-stressed status as star-crossed lovers. In the void of effective romance, the emotional heavy-lifting is left to a subdued and under-explored subplot about a tribe near extinction and a whole lot of whinging about honor, duty and sacrifice.

I had fond memories of watching this one back in the VHS days, but the years haven't been terribly kind. It's not bad, it's just unremarkable.