Bigger Than Life: The Movie That Speaks to Me

“Only great pain, the long, slow pain that takes its time... compels us to descend to our ultimate depths... I doubt that such pain makes us "better"; but I know it makes us more profound... In the end, lest what is most important remain unsaid: from such abysses, from such severe sickness, one returns newborn, having shed one's skin... with merrier senses, with a second dangerous innocence in joy, more childlike and yet a hundred times subtler than one has ever been before.”

-Friedrich Nietzsche, "The Gay Science"

The movie spoke to me. It was too close to home. How often have you heard such comments from people after viewing a motion picture? I have to admit some honesty--movies rarely, if ever, "speak to me" or are "too close to home." My favorite films--"The Godfather," "Onibaba," "The Great Dictator" and others--are mostly completely unrelated to me and my experiences. But while watching a practically forgotten film from 1956, I began to feel an eerie resemblance to my situation. The movie is called "Bigger Than Life."

So let me begin with my story:

On September 26, 2012, after a somewhat long day of teaching, I had a raspy sore throat that I expected would go away. After all, several weeks before, during a remarkably stressful start to the quarter, I had suffered from a terrible cold that left me in bed most of the weekend. The sore throat didn't go away, nor would it for months and months. Since that day in September, I have had roughly a dozen or so symptoms; among the worse have been heartburn, morning throat irritation, dysphagia (discomfort when swallowing), globus (a feeling of the throat clenching in), and odynophonia (pain when speaking), the chief symptom.

But before I reveal my thoughts on "Bigger Than Life," I really need to elaborate on just what it is I've been going through. I mentioned an eerie connection to the film. Here is an eerie passage from a book called "The Chronic Cough Enigma."

A twenty-five-year-old female grammar school teacher came to see me [a laryngologist and author of the book] with a nine-month history of a sensation of a lump in her throat, breathly hoarseness (dysphonia), vocal fatigue, intense pain with voice use (odynophonia), and cough. Her cough, voice, and odynophonia made it hard for her to get through the day. By the afternoon, she was miserable, and by the end of the week she was in tears because of her voice and throat pain. Nine months earlier, she had been completely healthy with no symptoms whatsoever; her problems began following an upper respiratory infection (URI). She described having a cold that turned into severe laryngitis and pleurisy. Weeks later when she started teaching, she was already having severe symptoms that just grew worse as the school year wore on. When she came to see me, she was desperate. From my initial patient intake forms, I saw that her reflux symptom index (RSI) of 33 was very high (normal < 15), indicating severe reflux. Her glottal closure index (GCI) of 18 was also very. The GCI measures voice symptoms and is very useful in determining if a person has problems with the vocal cord nerves, specifically if the vocal cords are paralyzed or partly paralyzed. This patient’s high GCI of 18 suggested that she likely had vagus nerve damage. Examination of the voice box by transnasal flexible laryngoscopy (TFL) confirmed that she had a paretic (weak, partially paralyzed) left vocal cord. Special vocal cord function testing called stroboscopy showed that the left vocal cord was floppy, also indicating vocal cord paresis. Finally, her larynx showed severe reflux. The patient underwent tests for reflux and for vocal cord paresis (e.g., laryngeal electromyography), all of which indicated that she had suffered a post-viral vagal neuropathy. To complete this clinical anecdote, the patient responded well to an intense antireflux program and to two medications used to treat neurogenic cough and vagal neuropathies (amitriptyline 10 mg . before bed, and gabapentin 100 mg. four times a day). The drugs were given in this case for her cough and throat pain. Within six weeks, she was asymptomatic and within six months, she was off all medication.

Eerie indeed. Like this unfortunate individual, I was a twenty-five-year-old teacher when my symptoms first appeared. Unlike that teacher, however, I did not suffer from a cough, but I did (and still do) suffer from odynophonia, and as a teacher, the pain has made my job much more challenging and less enjoyable.

It was the first week of class. We were desperately short on teachers, so I had two classes of students. The first group had less than twenty, but the next class had about 40. With back-to-back classes and almost no time to eat, teaching eight hours straight from 7:30-3:30 left me exhausted and eventually suffering from a terrible upper respiratory infection by the end of the week. I remember being in bed most of the weekend, as my voice had been shattered. But I recovered in time and returned to work. A new teacher had arrived and he took over one of the classes.

About a few weeks later, just like that other teacher, I suddenly had a bad sore throat at the end of the day, but I thought nothing of it. Surely, it will go away during the weekend, I thought. It did not. Nor did it for the new few weeks. So I went on vacation to Taiwan and despite the humidity and relaxation, it seemed to be getting worse. Back in Saudi Arabia, I was told I had a fungal infection, but when the medicine didn't alleviate the pain I was told I had acid reflux, and that the reflux was reaching my larynx. I took the pills and ate "healthier" food and yet the pain did not go away. Back in Ohio, doctors at a "prestigious" clinic (I'll leave the terribly overrated institution unnamed) "ruled out" reflux (but were wrong). They explained to me that that awful cold I had months earlier could have sort of messed up my nerves, creating a neuropathy, or neurogenic pain. "Okay, whatever. I'll buy it." But that medicine didn't work and so I stopped taking it all together. "Your symptoms are atypical," they told me as they washed their hands of me and moved along. And as the one year anniversary approached, I thought to myself that if I woke up on the one-year anniversary of first feeling symptomatic, then there indeed would be proof of a God.

Instead, the opposite happened. I woke up and I had never experienced pain quite like that in my throat. I didn't know how I would be able to get to work. I truly believed I was on the verge of a breakdown. A friend calmed down and told me about Nietzsche and his struggles with chronic pain. So I picked myself up a bit and saw a (rather expensive) specialist in New York City. After five terribly uncomfortable tests, I was given quite a plateful of diagnoses: gastroesophageal reflux disease, severe laryngopharyngeal reflux, post-viral vagal neuropathy, and bilateral vold fold paresis.

What the hell does that all mean?

Everyone knows GERD--it's heartburn, or stomach acid and pepsin refluxing (flowing up) back into the esophagus. But what about LPR? LPR, reflux into the throat, is unfortunately a much more difficult battle. Whereas more than fifty reflux episodes constitute GERD, as little as three qualify as LPR. PVVN? Many patients complain of suffering from a bad upper respiratory infection and weeks later, out of nowhere, they're either hoarse or coughing or suffering from odynophonia. It's a little complicated, but essentially the infection is potent enough to damage one's vagus nerve, the nerve that runs from your brain down to your lower esophageal sphincter. Because the vagus nerve "calls the shots," it has profound effects on one's system. Allow me to quote one research article: "Patients with this condition may present with breathy dysophina, vocal fatigue, effortful phonation, odynophonia, cough, globus and/or dysphagia, lasting long after resolution of the acute viral illness." The article goes on to describe that this can lead to paresis of the vocal cords (which the director of Google, who suffered from this, can explain) and LPR.

I'm told that my LPR has essentially been cleaned up (though new problems have presented themselves due to this fight--long story), even though my vocal cords appear a bit pink. (Incidentally, refluxers are very, very vulnerable to several different types of cancer.) But unlike that teacher who required only several hundred milligrams of neurontin and 10 milligrams of amitrptyline, I have tried much, much more, and while the pain is probably not as bad as before, it remains, and I'm afraid it will do so forever.

I could go on for hundreds and hundreds of more words--on a broken healthcare system, my feelings of the pharmaceutical industry, skepticism of alternative medicine and supplements, the de-mythologizing of "doctors-as-God" complexes, the disgusting over-usage of antibiotics, my jealousy of people who can eat whatever the fuck they want--but that is not my intent. Instead, I want to describe how Nicolas Ray's "Bigger Than Life" "spoke to me." (Note: This isn't technically a review of the film.) Based on an article called "Ten Feet Tall" (a line spoken in the movie when the protagonist describes how he feels after beginning his treatment), "Bigger Than Life" stars James Mason, who also produced the film, as a school teacher. (You've probably seen at least one of Ray's two biggest films--"King of Kings" and "Rebel Without a Cause.") Mason plays a teacher (another eerie resemblance) named Ed Avery, but from the very first time we see him, he writhes in pain. Yet he refuses to show anyone, and he's under a considerable amount of pressure as he works two jobs (and he hides one of them from his wife for fear of embarrassment).

But eventually he collapses and is rushed to the hospital. Doctors there diagnose him with a rare inflammation of the arteries which will likely kill him. He is proscribed a new drug (cortisone). It begins to work: he has his life back, and soon he feels "ten feet tall." But, as expected, he begins to misuse his medication. A parent-teacher night turns into a bizarre (yet quite funny) tirade comparing the parents' children to apes. His loyal friend, the physical education teacher (played thanklessly by Walter Matthau, who is still sorely missed) tries to intervene, but this only causes suspicion from Ed. His condition worsens, and he soon becomes more and more hostile and alarming (and dangerous) to his wife and son. There's a haunting and wonderfully-shot scene where Avery, now virtually madden by it all, confronts his son after the boy tries to destroy the cortisone. It's incredibly ominous.

It should be obvious why I feels a connection to this film and its central character (though, I assure you, I've never tried to harm young children and I've never abused drugs). I am more or less on a new regime that I am cautiously optimistic about. While I am fortunate to have doctors who care about me, I'm afraid I might fall forever in the mindset of Voltaire's famous quote: "Doctors are men who proscribe medicine of which they know little, to cure diseases of which they know less, in human beings of whom they know nothing." I could compare myself to Mason's character and succumb to the idea that "it could be worse," though this is a sort of "illness porn" that I don't think is always the best route. My mood changes frequently: sometimes feeling depressed, sometimes feeling fortunate, sometimes feeling bitter. Fear is probably the most common. It does provide one with a heightened sense of what really matters in life. I now know that I can find the rapidest increase in happiness through providing a kindness and through smiling, even if I'm not happy (try it, it works!).

I am often reminded about information I found at inc.com on happiness, specifically a quote from George Vaillant, the director of a 72-year study of the lives of 268 men: "We are happy when we have family, we are happy when we have friends and almost all the other things we think make us happy are actually just ways of getting more family and friends."

The ending of "Bigger Than Life," though it severely suffers from deus ex machina, embraces this concept. It's actually the worst part of the film. It's so abrupt and damages the pace. (Spoiler alert) We go from an exciting fight between Mason and Matthau to yet another one of Hollywood's embrace of "all's-well-that-ends-well." But regardless, Mr. Avery finds his peace and happiness, and Mr. Vaillant could likely use him in a future study. I only hope Vaillant would add that we are happy when we are healthy.

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A Personal Journey with Martin Scorsese's Personal Journey

Produced by the British Film Institute, "A Personal Journey with Martin Scorsese" from 1995 is not only personal, it's educational. Scorsese is one of the great raconteurs of our time, and yet he is also an educator--Scorsese also used to teach film at New York University. One of his students, Oliver Stone, described his first impression of Scorsese as being a "New York nutcase." "A Personal Journey" allows Scorsese to teach students of all stripes.

If one truly loves movies, then one has an obligation to study them--all (or at least most) of them. Many of these films I had never heard of; most I had never seen. My "personal journey" through his "personal journey" has been an interesting one, and shall commence again with a part two, but for now, here's my take on some of the films he discusses in his introduction to the documentary:

The Bad and the Beautiful
Seen throughout numerous moments in the opening of his documentary, it's easy to understand why Scorsese admires a film like Vincente Minelli's "The Bad and the Beautiful." For one, he directed Minelli's daughter, Liza, in "New York, New York." Additionally, it's a movie about movies, and there is no other lover of film quite like Scorsese. As "The Bad and the Beautiful" opens his discussion, Scorsese quotes Frank Capra describing movies as an addiction; like heroine, Scorsese says, the only antidote is more movies. The scene Scorsese then shows features Douglas as Jonathan Shields barking orders to his independent director (Ivan Triesault) and humbled in the process.

At times, "The Bad and the Beautiful" seems like "The Kid Stays in the Picture" told in the style of "Citizen Kane." Film buffs might recognize Douglas and Barry Sullivan's solution for scaring audiences and equate it to how Steven Spielberg solved his dilemma of scaring audiences for "Jaws" without actually having a shark. But a more obvious connection is to "Cat People," practically identical to "Doom of the Cat Men."

"The Bad and the Beautiful" is melodramatic, sure, but at least mostly unpredictable. Douglas gives one of his best performances and is supported by a pretty good cast.

Duel in the Sun
Or "Lust in the Dust," as the Church dismissively called it, Scorsese says that this was a film his mother (using her son as an excuse to see such a scandalous movie, he tells us) took him to see as a very young child. He says that he was "mesmerized," and so virtually anyone who was ever a child and mesmerized by a movie at the cinema can relate. But I can't image what a young, four-year-old boy was thinking while watching the "overt sexuality."

Initially, it's difficult to see what the fuss was about. It's undoubtedly a pro-Christian (or at least pro-morality) picture, with its talk of a simplified "good versus evil" viewpoint of the world. But within moments, that is shattered. It's one of those old Hollywood movies that you wonder how they got away with such imagery during the Hayes period.

Scorsese uses the scenes of a director dueling with a producer in "The Bad and the Beautiful" to discuss the behind-the-scenes of "Duel in the Sun." Despite King Vidor directing it, it was producer David O. Selznick's baby, and their clashes led to Vidor quitting the film. (Like Selznick's other child, "Gone With the Wind," "Duel in the Sun" had several directors throughout its production.)

Scorsese still holds "Duel in the Sun" in high regard, but the film hasn't aged as well as "The Bad and the Beautiful." It's terribly racist and essentially sexist, and its star, Jennifer Jones (who won an Oscar several years before), presents an iconic film image but a fairly dull performance. Gregory Peck, however, is magnificent as one of the great villains of the Westerns. (Lillian Gish and Lionel Barrymore are also great.)

Incidentally, Scorsese mentions that it's a flawed film.

The Crowd
But "Duel in the Sun" is nowhere near as flawed as Vidor's film from 18 years earlier called "The Crowd." This is a comedy (I think), but its dramatic moments in particular are, well, overly dramatic. And while silent film acting is mostly seen through the prism of modern times as hyperbolic, to say the least, Vidor's lead actor James Murray gives a particularly dreadful performance. (Murray died only eight years after the film after falling--though it wasn't ruled if he fell or jumped--into the Hudson River and drowning. Vidor wrote an unrealized script about Murray's life called "The Actor.") While the zoom-in of the enormous building and the blissful affair at Niagara Falls should serve as a reminder that Vidor had talent for visuals, his talent for storytelling could be questioned.

The Girl Can't Help It
Getting just a quick namedrop from Scorsese as he explains the post-zenith era of Hollywood, it's not difficult to see why Scorsese likes "The Girl Can't Help It" so much. "The Girl Can't Help It," which is practically a musical version of "Born Yesterday," is not simply a musical, but a proud embrace of rock 'n' roll. Its influence on music is obvious; look at how Wikipedia summarizes it: "['The Girl Can't Help It'] fascinated a 16-year-old John Lennon by showing him, for the first time, his 'worshiped' American rock 'n' roll stars as living human beings and thus further inspiring him to pursue his own rock 'n' roll dream." Read on and you will see how "The Girl Can't Help It" connected Lennon and Paul McCartney. So given Scorsese's encyclopedic knowledge of the subject, my guess is that this movie practically speaks to him.

That being said, this is a weak, increasingly clunky movie. Despite its great musical numbers--some of them (including the title song) sung by Little Richard and other rock greats--it is ultimately a forgettable film. The lame 1950s jokes have not aged well, especially young Barry Gordon's annoying line, "If that's a girl, I don't know what my sister is." Edmund O'Brien is way over the top, screaming and shouting and barking through the cigar smoke. Fortunately, however, Jayne Mansfield is here. Of all the gorgeous people to have graced the screen, arguably no one was as beautiful as Mansfield. Her performance is commendable, but almost nothing else in "The Girl Can't Help It" is.

Sullivan's Travels
A slapstick comedy with bullet-speed dialogue, Preston Sturges' 1941 film is unfortunately also a terribly lame film. I will concede several things about the film, however: First, Joel McCrea and Veronica Lake make a charismatic couple; just as Mansfield is a saving grace of "The Girl Can't Help It," Lake has the same effect here. As a film of social themes, it's not bad, though a little overly melodramatic. Fans of the Coen Brothers' "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" might notice the connection--it's the name of the film the title character (McCrea) wants to make. Other than that, it's quite overrated.

The Naked Kiss
We have another miss here from Mr. Scorsese. "The Naked Kiss" is admittedly a brave story. Constance Towers plays a prostitute who longs to retire, so to speak, and work with children who have disabilities. She is more or less harassed by the town's police chief, who also was her final customer. While the movie does have some favorable aspects to it, such as the eeriness of it all, the acting is fairly atrocious.

Bigger Than Life
I will end on a better note.

While the corny title might be slightly less corny had it retained the title of the magazine article that inspired the film ("Ten Feet Tall"), "Bigger Than Life" might be the best film in this first part of Scorsese's documentary. It's the story of an ordinary school teacher, played by James Mason, who suffers from terrible pain due to an inflammation of his arteries. He's given an experimental (at the time) drug called cortisone, but when he takes it for too long (and increases his doses without notifying his doctors), he begins to develop psychological issues. A parent-teachers conference turns into a diatribe against children whose intellectual levels are, he says, at the level of those of apes; at home, he becomes increasingly impatient, critical and dangerous towards his family.

You may recognize the director, Nicholas Ray. He also directed "Rebel Without a Cause," which was released the previous year. Both films feature powerful stories of protagonists going through some form of internal battle. But "Bigger Than Life" is more unforgettable. Along with "The Bad and the Beautiful," it is the finest on this short list. It's a particularly powerful film for anyone who has had to struggle through the torment that is chronic pain.


I'm grateful for having been introduced to these two films. I feel a bit more educated with regards to having seeing them as well as "Duel in the Sun." Nevertheless, I feel that films like "The Girl Can't Help It," "The Crowd," "Sullivan's Travels" and "The Naked Kiss" are frankly films that deserve to be forgotten.

Stay tuned for further reviews of films that Scorsese discusses, like Westerns, musicals, and gangster flicks.

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12 Years a Slave

To put it simply, "12 Years a Slave" is not an easy film to watch.  More specifically, it is as harrowing a motion picture as ever.  How else can it be put? Disturbing, horrifying, powerful--these are all appropriate adjectives. The point is that the film will essentially leave you speechless. The famous Roger Ebert quote that no good movie is depressing but all bad movies are depressing is not accurate here. This movie is very, very depressing, as depressing as it is exceptional. It is not an easy one to watch, but that's the way it should be.

Is it too violent? To say yes would be an insult not only to realism and history but also those who suffered and died from such terrible situations. Much criticism has been made these days about the level of violence and nudity in movies. That is another discussion for another time. But director Steve McQueen has wisely included a large amount here; not to do so would be unwise. Being stripped naked to show for potential customers is perhaps the most humiliating of acts. It is here that the movie first started to "get to me," which is odd, because by that point, roughly thirty minutes in, the audience has been shown several scenes of torture. But those scenes were expected. I did not expect to see a cruel slave seller played by Paul Giamatti demonstrate a young boy's strength by having him jump repeatedly before the boy is separated from his mother and sister. (Compare Giamatti's performance to that of the sweet driver he plays in "Saving Mr. Banks.") The scene is haunting. So too is the simplicity (aside from the practically Shakespearean dialogue) in a scene where a slave woman played by Alfre Woodard (terrific as always) discusses her strategy to use lust to avoid the whip. That strategy is not so successful for Patsey (Lupita Nyong'o), who becomes the victim of the worst violence imaginable.

Her master and also that of Solom Northup, the story's protagonist played by Chiwetel Ejiofor, is played by Michael Fassbender. I have seen Fassbender in a number of bad films, including the overrated "Shame," which is one of the two previous movies he has done with McQueen. (Fassbender has appeared in all three of McQueen's films; the other is "Hunger" from 2008.) But I have never seen him give a bad performance, and this is by far his best performance yet. From beginning to end, his portrayal is that of terrifying sadism. In a dumber version of the movie, Fassbender's Edwin Epps would be the "evil slave owner," waking his property in the middle of the night to dance, raping his slaves, whipping them until he has lost his energy. 

But Benedict Cumberbatch as William Ford would be the "good slave owner." Solomon describes Ford as a decent man, and there are scenes of actual kindness, like Ford giving Solomon a violin (Solomon was a professional violinist before he was kidnapped and thrown into slavery). But while it's discreet, the movie makes clear that there is no such thing as a good slave owner. Consider the fact that both Epps and Ford gather their slaves into the yard to listen to them read from the Bible. Epps reads a passage about obeying the Lord as one's master.  "That's scripture," he warns. In his book "The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined," Steven Pinkner asks if the reader has ever noticed that "Thou shall not own slaves" is not a commandment. Neither is "Thou shall not rape," for that matter. The Bible doesn't condemn slavery; it condones it. And yet, to paraphrase Dan Savage, this is the document we are to heed, but it couldn't even get the simplest moral question correct. There is no such thing as a good slave owner.

This is a tale of a total deficit of empathy and compassion. The other major movies regarding the black American experience this year ("42" and "Lee Daniels' The Butler") are ultimately about success. "12 Years a Slave" is only about failure. It's true that there is a portion not necessarily about success and survival but about living. The primary motivation of Solomon is not to revenge, which he does only once, fighting back against a terribly vicious man played by Paul Dano. Instead, his motivation is to live, as he clearly states. I have not yet mentioned how magnificent Ejiofor is as Solomon Northup. It is one of the very best performances of the year and perhaps the decade. Of the elements of this film, particularly the direction from Steve McQueen, are incredible and worthy of their Oscar nominations.  It is truly one of the best films of the year.
      

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The Wolf of Wall Street

Greed is good. That was the unforgettable line of Oliver Stone's 1987 "Wall Street." Here, a quarter of a century later, Martin Scorsese's tweak of that infamous attitude is that greed is not just good, but really fuckin' good...and it always will be. "The Wolf of Wall Street" features arguably Leonard DiCaprio's best performance yet (and I thought the same thing of DiCaprio in "Django Unchained" the year before). He is one of those rare actors who tries to outdo himself with every performance. His portrayal of Jordan Belfort, along with the other acts of barbarism and absurdity, help make DiCaprio and Scorsese's first collaboration, "Gangs of New York," look tame.

This movie is not for the faint of heart. Remember that rumor that Jack Nicholson would snort cocaine off the rear end of a young woman in Scorsese's "The Departed" but it was left on the cutting room floor? Well, something like that exists in the opening moments of "The Wolf of Wall Street." The viewer will either think this is a small component of a larger picture of arbitrary debauchery, or be so disgusted and turn the film off. But the scenes serve a purpose--if you didn't hate Wall Street already, you will really hate it now.

The film starts with Black Monday in 1987, the year I was born. (I entered this world with the worst stock market crash since 1929, and I graduated in 2009 among the worst stock market crash since 1929.) Belfort, humbled by his experience, has to start back at the bottom. He finds a job pushing penny stocks to schmucks (the postmen, we're told; always the postmen), and they're selling garbage to garbage men. It's at this time that he meets Donnie Azoff. Azoff is played by Jonah Hill, who is quickly emerging as one of the most enjoyable actors to watch. Here, he has never been better; possibly the only performance of the year funnier was the one he gave in "This Is the End." But there is also a terrifying sense of malice to him. His monologue--explaining what he would do to the hypothetical child with disabilities he would hypothetically produce with his wife (who also happens to be his cousin)--is, believe it or not, similar to Joe Pesci's famous "funny how?" diatribe in "Goodfellas." In both cases, the intention of the dialogue is to invoke fear. These are funny wiseguys, but they're also terrifying.

The humor is actually one of the things that's so surprising about "The Wolf of Wall Street." When folks heard that DiCaprio and Scorsese were teaming up for the fifth time, we all thought this would be a gritty drama. Instead, we're treated to a very funny movie, one of the funniest of the year. Here, DiCaprio's performance is that of a risk-loving lunatic with a golden toilet. The funniest scene undoubtedly is the one where both Belfort and Azoff take expired methaqualone (commonly referred to throughout the movie as "ludes"), and the drugs only kick in just as the best laid plans of Wall Street rats go terribly, terribly awry. The plan is to have all their money transported to Swiss bank accounts. Azoff screws up awfully and their pickup man ends up in jail. Belfort rushes to a pay phone to get the news (which includes an unfortunate fact that the FBI has been bugging their phones). Belfort has to drive (while essentially in a catatonic state) back to his mansion to prevent Azoff from using the phones. The trouble is that Azoff has definitely been using the phones; he calls the French banker (Jean Dujardin) to tell him that money will be late, but he's barely able to produce any of those required syllables or syntax. The result is confusion and hysteria. "You ate ze money? What do you mean you ate ze money?"

So to say that DiCaprio and Hill are worthy of Oscar nominations is an understatement. Audiences have seen DiCaprio do humorous scenes before, but they've never seen him this funny, and it's widely known that comedy more often than not is much more challenging than drama. Terrence Winter, who worked with Scorsese on "Boardwalk Empire," certainly deserves to be nominated for his exceptional screenplay. Also providing great performances are Margot Robbie as Belfort's second wife and Rob Reiner as Belfort's father, who may have just as foul a mouth as his son but at least is wiser, more cautious, and more long-term thinking. It is surely hoped that they are rewarded with nominations tomorrow.

"How can it be that it is not a news item when an elderly homeless person dies of exposure, but it is news when the stock market loses two points?"
-Pope Francis, "Evangelii Gaudium"

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Love Actually

Perhaps there is no better way to start a movie than with Bill Nighy singing and strutting about to a terrible cover of the sub-par song "Love Is All Around." Here, Nighy is Billy Mack, an aging rock star who likes to poke fun at his manager (Gregory Fisher) and still engage in naughty activities. Nighy is absolutely terrific in the film. His performance of the character makes him seem like he would fit in perfectly with Mick Jagger and David Bowie. Later on, Mack is asked on a radio show about the best intimate partner (to put it mildly) he was ever with. His response: Britney Spears. But then a chuckle. "No," he says, giggling. "She was rubbish." How can one not smile at his performance (and frankly, much of the movie)?  But during the recording session, Mack asks an important question: "This is shit, isn't it?" Indeed, some have asked the same of Love Actually.

I had always planned on writing about Love Actually after reading that it was celebrating its tenth year anniversary this year. But I wasn't expecting there to be such a fierce debate about the movie. There are a variety of passionate opinions about the it, from the Atlantic, NPR, Jezebel, another one from NPR, Mother Jones. As you can see, there is a considerably vocal faction (but not a majority) of critics and audience members who detest the film and there are many who love Love Actually and forever will. So, the tremendously less influential Chris and the Movies has decided to chime in. And so here it is:

We are introduced to a whole host of characters. Emma Thompson is Karen and is married to Harry (Alan Rickman), who soon starts to lust for his new secretary (Heike Makatsch). Karen is a friend of Daniel (Liam Neeson) whose wife lost her battle to cancer and so is now responsible for raising his stepson (Thomas Sangster). There's another story about Jamie (Colin Firth), a writer whose wife cheated on him with his brother, so he moves to France. Rowan Atkinson appears in a role that was originally meant to be a Christmas angel (it will make it a bit easier to understand his character after understanding that). Then there's a wedding--oh, and the Prime Minister (Hugh Grant). Wait, I forget about the sex scene body doubles (Martin Freeman and Joanna Page). As you can see, "Unnecessarily Complicated Actually" or "You Really Don't Need Twenty Stories All Somehow Related to Each Other Actually" could have been suitable titles. You can try and figure out the labyrinth of connections provided by Wikipedia, but I suspect you won't. Why should you? Many of the characters are interesting; their networks are not.

But that is not the major flaw of the film. Instead, its the annoying shift from adorable, sweet, water-in-the-eye inducing material to the inferior drivel. Consider first Hugh Grant's role as David, the Prime Minister of England. This is the fourth time Grant has worked with director Richard Curtis, and here he's as charming as ever. The chemistry between him and his secretary (Martine McCutcheon) is probably the most charming in the film. We even get a sudden dosage of politics when the U.S. President (Billy Bob Thorton) arrives for bilateral talks with the U.K. Thorton's performance is no doubt meant to be a harsh indictment of recent U.S. presidents, a clear hybrid of Bill Clinton's promiscuity and George W. Bush's bullying cowboy approach to foreign policy. But David stands up--he's not going to be anybody's poodle--and he gives a fairly cheesy speech about how great Great Britain is; the corniness nearly marches that of Michael Douglas' speech in The American President. Later in the night, David is offered a time of private (or so he thinks) self-celebration, and busts out doing a dance to "Jump (for My Love)." Again, how can you not smile?

But then consider the story of Daniel and his stepson. Neeson's scene as a grieving husband at his wife's funeral features a perfect moment of acting; with one stare at the ground, he says more than he could in an entire monologue. Indeed, some of the movie's finest moments bring our attention to emotional appeals. The appeal to fear, to jealousy, to embarrassment; emotions of being miserable and of being wronged are all employed here. But the sympathy I felt for Daniel disappeared as his story becomes a bit strange. Are we really to believe that a young boy is suddenly cured of his sadness over his mother's death due to his terrible crush on the school's coolest girl? And did I really watch Liam Neeson pretend to be Leonardo DiCaprio to his stepson's Kate Winslet in Titanic? But Daniel and son are not alone in the weirdness. There's the note card scene--oh, that awful note card scene. How many creepy guys were inspired to do something like that because of this movie? It is likely the worst scene of its kind since John Cusack stood on a car with a boombox.            

If it seems like this review is disorganized, it's because it's a review of a disorganized film. This is certainly a movie that has about three stories too many. They're all cheesily connected somehow ("the first of its kind!" I am inaccurately told by my friends), and it's a bit too much about love. Does every aspect of love need to be covered here? It is too often a sin of modern-day films (and even great old ones like The Red Shoes) to be unable to sustain a film beyond a second act, and that is particularly true with this one. By the end, it tires. There's too much love.

So I hate this movie. Wait, I hate this movie?  Of course not!  It's Love Actually! For all the eye-rolling it inspires, there are just as many really adorable and enjoyable moments here.  It deserves a legacy more than ten years. True, it will be unable to stand in the hall of greats like It's a Wonderful Life, but it at least earns comparisons to The Shop Around the Corner. Its score by Craig Anderson is just about perfect. You may find it too difficult to suspend your disbelief and actually love it, but a little embracing of the absurd will take you a long way. Especially its touching ending, just before the credits. Just about everyone will love that scene. It's the perfect ending to a fine holiday movie.  Even Billy Mack would like it. 

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Man of Steel

It is puzzling. How can I like the emotion of a film so much and yet be so annoyed by its visuals? How can interesting characters surrender to gratuitous special effects? Such is the case with Zack Snyder's "Man of Steel," the newest franchise reboot, this time about, of course, Superman. This is the seventeen-hundredth film I've seen, and I wish I could have left the theater with a bit more excitement.

But it can be said happily that I did leave the theater thinking about the actors. I get the impression that these performers really insisted that they would only sign on if their characters were made more interesting than they were in previous installments, and for the most part, it works. Kevin Costner as Jonathan Kent and Russell Crowe as Jor-El here are not simply cameos. (How cool would it be to have both Kevin Costner and Russell Crowe as fathers?) Superman is fatherless and yet he is not. He has answers, but many of them don't make sense. These two fathers are the moral fabric of the movie. Consider Jor-El's precious goodbye to his only son, and later guidance throughout the film. He is a scientist and a pacifist, ready to engage in a debate to win but just as ready to wield a gun. Also consider Pa Kent's fatherly supervision of young Clark, who is understandably confused (played quite well by young Dylan Sprayberry), far more so than any other teenager. Pa Kent doesn't have many answers, but he does have humility, hope and work ethic, and he tries to instill this in his young adopted son.  He's far more simple than Jor-El, but he's done the best he can. The young Clark panics and begs to keep on pretending to be Jonathan's son. "You are my son," Jonathan replies, holding Clark tightly. It's a moving scene; this is the emotion I mentioned liking so much.

Finally, there's Michael Shannon's performance as Superman's nemesis, General Zod. His multilingual ultimatum to the people of Earth is harrowing. Shannon has a talent for playing villains and morally complex men, but here I think his portrayal is just as much of the latter as it is the former. Zod sees himself as protector of Krypton, and he will fight to save it; he is utilitarianism at its worst. Fortunately, it's not only these four actors I've mentioned who are really good in their roles.  So too are Richard Schiff as a benign scientist, Christopher Meloni as a hawkish military officer, Laurence Fishburne as Daily Planet editor Perry White, and Diane Lane as Martha Kent.  And finally, Henry Cavill as Superman does a remarkable job. He brings unique qualities to the character: youth, vulnerability, pride, confusion, confidence. He deserves accolades for his performance for how well he carries it. But one disappointing aspect of the film is that charming chemistry between Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder in "Superman" from 1978 is missing here.

Do I prefer "Superman" over "Man of Steel"? Definitely not. I found the first film to be dull and silly, a classic example of style over substance. Unfortunately, though, that is prevalent more often than not in "Man of Steel." I mentioned Jor-El's ability to debate. At one point, he is engaged in an argument with Zod. Zod and Jor-El are once comrades but now enemies, at odds with how to ensure the future prosperity of their home, Krypton. As Krypton is destroyed, Jor-El manages to send his son to Earth, far away from Zod, where he hopes his son will lead the people of Earth to a brighter future.  Reunited, the tables have turned. Zod has escaped from prison and is ready to destroy Earth, and he doesn't intend any reason or logic to stop him, despite Jor-El's best efforts. It's an entertaining scene, but it's ruined immediately with a cutaway to Superman being chased by some sort of arm machine.  It's unfortunate that Snyder has let visual effects practically ruin "Man of Steel." Visual effects enhanced, not hindered, his previous comic book film, "Watchmen." Here, it is not the case. The first half-hour or so features special effects that look as bad as they were in "Star Wars: Attack of the Clones" more than a decade ago. The film's second half features a lot of the character-driven scenes I previously mentioned. But with about an hour left to go, the audience must sit through scene after scene of headache-inducing noise and destruction, with the vision of "Independence Day" but the amateurish performance of "Transformers." And just when you think it's over, there's more (and that ain't a good thing). Supposedly, even Superman's cape in the action scenes is CGI.

So now I feel as though the film has not lived up to its very high expectations.  It's a bit ironic that the previous "Superman" film, Bryan Singer's "Superman Returns," which, despite a lot of money and solid reviews (much higher than "Man of Steel"), was deemed so much a failure that the studio felt they needed to reboot their reboot. Studio logic would then dictate that it's time for another reboot. But Superman the character has a great talent for picking himself up, and so I am reminded of previous comic book films. "X-Men" was fairly lame but was followed by an exceptional sequel. "Batman Begins" brought a breath of fresh air to Batman but was not nearly as terrific as Christopher Nolan's masterful "The Dark Knight."  Many fans consider "Spider-Man 2" to be superior to "Spider-Man" (I disagree). So, I have what Superman claims his "S" stands for that the next installment will be much better. This looks like a job for Superman.

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The Funniest AFI Moments

This Saturday, TNT will present the American Film Institute's Lifetime Achievement Award to Mel Brooks, a man who certainly deserves it. For more than fifty years, he has made us practically cry laughing with films like "The Producers" in 1968 (along with the Broadway version and 2005 film version), "Young Frankenstein," "Blazing Saddles," "Spaceballs," and others. Do you like the old show "Get Smart"? Brooks was a co-creator. In fact, he has won an Oscar, an Emmy, a Tony and a Grammy, making him one of the few individuals to win all four. The AFI Lifetime Achievement Award is, according to them, the highest honor an American in film can get. Fortunately, the show is often quite funny, and knowing the long list of co-workers and famous fans of Brooks, we can be sure that Saturday night's show will be good fun. For a brief history of such humor at the AFI awards, here are some of their funniest moments.    

Steve Martin, Tom Hanks, 2002

Steve Martin, perhaps the funniest man alive, opened the show expressing just a bit of faux-jealousy towards Hanks during the latter's "mid-life achievement award." Martin delivers the lines in that dry, sarcastic tone that he does best. "How did Tom come so far so quickly? Well, nepotism."    

Billy Crystal, Robert De Niro, 2003 

Billy Crystal, Robert De Niro's co-star from "Analyze This," doesn't exactly deliver a knee-slapper (but Robin Williams did during his hysterical roast that night of Martin Scorsese), but it gets the show off to a nice start. He lampoons De Niro's famous work ethic, compares his early look to that of the Monkees, and does a nice impression of De Niro's inability to make conversation (something Edward Norton and Leonardo DiCaprio also point out).  

Jim Carrey, Meryl Streep, 2004

Unfortunately, the AFI, like the rest of Hollywood, does not honor as many women as it does men, and this is inexcusable. (Only seven out of the forty honorees have been women.) But in 2004, they honored arguably the greatest artist alive, Meryl Streep, or, as Jim Carrey claimed, the three nominees in the category of Best Actress Ever. Carrey's schtick is over the top, but that's to be expected, and if you are generally amused by him, then you will love his opening, especially when he gives Streep "advice" that "less is more," then goes into imitations of De Niro and Jack Nicholson, both in attendance.
   

William Shatner, George Lucas, 2005

You'll notice a bit of puzzlement from "Star Wars" alumni Mark Hamill and Harrison Ford as William Shatner (from Lucas' rival/inspiration "Star Trek") comes forward to open the show with mock confusion. "'Star Trek' changed everything," he says. "And aren't these conventions wonderful?" What he does next with a band of Stormtroopers is so perfect, I think it's best to simply watch. 

Mike Myers, Sean Connery 2006

Mike Myers, after noting that he practically owes his career to Sir Sean Connery, is hysterical, particularly when he compares some of Connery's Bond girlfriends (like Pussy Galore) with Myers' first girlfriend, "Closedlegs Finklestein." Unfortunately, though, after the laughs from Myers speech, we have to sit through two hours of bad Connery impressions (though Eddie Izzard's is pretty good). But fortunately, it ends with Connery dancing and giving a terrific speech.    

Robin Williams, Al Pacino 2007

Any AFI show with Robin Williams is a joy, and after a terrific montage of Pacino's great work at the beginning of the show (which, as far as I can tell, is not available on Youtube), Williams, Pacino's co-star from the under-appreciated "Insomnia," notes that the AFI "could've given you this award in 1975, but that would have been a little early" and that after incorrectly claiming Pacino won an Oscar for "Raging Bull," "if you put Robert De Niro in a dryer, you get Al Pacino!" He then leads the audience in one of Pacino's most famous movie lines.   

Betty White, Morgan Freeman, 2011

Betty White sings to Morgan Freeman. I don't think I need to write anything else.  

The showing will be at 9 pm (EST) on TNT with an encore showing on TCM on July 24.  Until then, it's always Springtime for Hitler.    

Okay, one more....

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The Amazing Spider-Man

Film critics are told to go into every movie rooting for it to be a smashing good time.  I must confess that I had no such thinking walking into "The Amazing Spider-Man." I suppose I shared the consensus view that there was no need to re-boot the franchise so soon after Sam Raimi's trilogy.  I think, though, that after the negative reaction fans had towards the "Star Wars" prequel trilogy, there has been considerable efforts from filmmakers charged with the task of rebooting franchises to do it justly, and that's why the James Bond, "Planet of the Apes," "Batman" and other reboots have been so successful. Fortunately, Marc Webb's "The Amazing Spider-Man" is another one of these successful reboots.

Andrew Garfield (from "The Social Network") is Peter Parker, the awkward boy Tobey Macguire portrayed in the original trilogy. Here, as Spider-Man (which he finally becomes at almost an hour into the movie), Garfield suffices, but I suspect he needs one more go-around before getting it completely right. He has had a lot of good training from this one, as his co-stars include Rhys Ifans, Sally Field, and Martin Sheen; those three actors are worth the watch of any movie, so to see all three here is a real treat, and they're all in top form, particularly Ifans, who's given a lot of "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" moments to have fun with. It's just a shame that we don't only see this portrayal but also Ifans disguised in silly-looking GGI effects. When he's in his full metamorphosis as the Lizard, he looks rather silly (but again, as a sick scientist, he's wonderful). Emma Stone as Gwen Stacy is as likable and funny as she was in "Easy A" and "Zombieland," but unfortunately isn't given much to do here until near the end. Denis Leary also appears as Stacey's strict, traditional "law-and-order" father (who also happens to be the police chief who despises Spider-Man). Finally, Stan Lee, as he always does, has a cameo here, and it probably is the best Stan Lee cameo ever.

But as Peter Parker the teenage high school student, Garfield overdoes the awkwardness, overplaying his nervous stuttering in front of pretty girls. The audience is too smart to believe that Peter could be severely punched in the stomach and face several times and then waltz into class. But still, despite this taunting from a school bully whose behavior is way too unrealistic (and considering what demons high school bullies are, that is saying a lot), the audience is probably willing to suspend its disbelief and cheer when Peter has fun humiliating him in the school gym. That's after he gets his mutant powers, of course. And he gets those powers in a science lab when a spider bites him....oh, what's the point of discussing all the details of the plot? By now, everyone knows it.

And that's a problem Webb's "Spider-Man" has: it hastily checks through the "to-do" list of a "Spider-Man" reboot: Peter gets bullied, he's bitten by a spider, he gets new powers and struggles to understand how to use them. This is a lesson in the subtle differences in listing versus telling.  Webb and his team believe that they need to go through the check list with all this stuff, and these scenes usually are the ones that don't work. Case in point is the CGI scenes with Spider-Man flying around the city or his nemesis, the Lizard destroying the city. They are disguised as "show-me" moments. The parts that really work are the ones where we're being shown something genuine. Not necessarily the visuals, but the human element that makes up the "Spider-Man" mythology. As expected, a lot of this comes from the relationship between Peter and his surrogate father, Ben, played by Sheen. Sheen's character is a simple, working-class man, and yet he has a lifetime of powerful education to pass down to his nephew. But there are other show-me moments, like when Spider-Man must act quickly to save a boy from a burning car. It reminded me of those pictures of the window-washers at hospitals who sometimes dress up as Spider-Man to entertain the children.  It's evidence that the world not only needs heroes, but movies about super heroes.



This review is dedicated to Roger Ebert, who died on Thursday. He wrote the following about "Spider-Man 2," one of his favorite films of 2004: "Now this is what a superhero movie should be...it's a superhero movie for people who don't go to superhero movies, and for those who do, it's the one they've been yearning for." (In his opinion, "The Amazing Spider-Man" was the second best in the series.)












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Afghan Star

Havana Marking's "Afghan Star," the winner of the 2009 Best Director and Audience Award at the Sundance Film Festival, is perhaps the most interesting look at a country we should, but probably don't, know a lot about. As the title suggests, this is a documentary about Afghanistan. Not about the current and never-ending war there, but, again as the title hints, a documentary regarding the "American Idol"-style television contest, "Afghan Star." To say this show is dangerous for the performers is an understatement, particularly for the female ones. One of them in particular, after she is voted off the show, strips her hair of its cover and dances around the stage for one last performance. The grin of a Westerner's face would likely fade as we then see the reaction of her countrymen and women. They are not pleased. "Afghanistan is an Islamic country," one of them says. Even though she is eliminated, we see her struggle to get back home and avoid the copious amount of threats from conservatives.

Saudi Arabia is an Islamic country, as well, and yet their definition of what is acceptable for women is radically conservative, even by Afghanistan's terms. Considering also that the world has gone through great liberalization in this past decade, it's stunning to see that in a part of the world where women not only studied with men but also sang rock music to shouting fans is now a region where young girls are shot in the head for attending school. Music is forbidden? Why? I can only tell through brief conversations that conservative Muslims believe music has traditionally been seen as distracting Muslims from their religious duties. But what about video games? Why is permissible to be distracted by them? This is something I will never be able to comprehend. But this is a documentary made for Westerners who would like to get up and one second cheer and another lecture. My reaction was similar to the one I had after watching Alison Klayman's "Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry." While Westerners may be encouraged, what do most folks in Afghanistan and China have to say about these topics?

As hackneyed as it sounds, you're likely to learn a bit more about Afghan culture through this documentary than you do on the nightly news. Consider that the final contestants are from different ethnic groups--Hezara, Pashtun, and Tajik. I suspect the average viewer would be a bit surprised to see, frankly, what these folks look like. Some folks, particularly Westerners, might wonder why they don't look like Arabs, as it seems the rest of the world lumps Islamic countries all together into the Middle East. I remember several years ago, there was an English language learner at our school in the Czech Republic. She was from Kazakhstan (or one of the "-stans," I can't remember which), and a colleague of mine remarked that "she looks so Asian." I think Americans need to be aware that 1) Asia is not simply Japan, China and the Koreas, but a whole host of nations, and 2) we need to rethink how we "see" ethnicity. A person from Afghanistan most likely does not look too similar to a person from Oman. Regardless, there are stories here that need to be told. Those of people who hid radios during the Taliban rule. As the war begins to end (theoretically), it would be interesting and anxiety-inducing to see what kind of stories we can expect in the next documentaries about Afghanistan.
 



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The Dark Knight Rises

It occurred to me recently that Christopher Nolan's Batman films are mostly about fear. They explore the fears not only of everyday citizens but also of a man most of us likely thought was never scared: the Dark Knight. Batman probably follows the advice to never let anyone see him bleed, but we see his premonition that perhaps one day he won't be able to prevent terrible things from happening. There are some really scary, terrible things in our world. A recent Gallup poll found that the things Americans fear the most are terrorist attacks, spiders, death, being a failure, war, heights, criminal or gang violence, being alone, the future, and nuclear war. All of these (except spiders and to a lesser extent heights) are featured prominently in Nolan's "The Dark Knight Rises," his final installment of his Batman trilogy.

Years after defeating the Joker and Two-Face (while keeping the true identity of Harvey Dent secret), Batman has left Gotham largely in peace. The Dent Act has kept police officers on the streets, and there is no need for Batman. Bruce Wayne is still injured from previous events, and largely remains a recluse, with hardly anything to do in the world, certainly not protect Gotham.  

But then Bane enters. He is played by Tom Hardy, as chiseled and intimidating as he was in last year's "Warrior." Bane's main goal seems to be to give the power of Gotham "back to the people." But democracy without rules isn't a democracy, it's anarchy, and this is perfect for Bane. He plans on getting his hands on a nuclear bomb and doing a whole lot more to severely disrupt the order of things. Batman is hardly a match for Bane's strength, and Bane seems to enjoy taunting him. "Oh, you think darkness is your ally," he mocks. "You merely adopted the dark. I was born in it, modeled by it...The shadows betray you because they belong to me." (This is Shakespeare compared to the last time we saw Bane, in the dismal 1997 film "Batman and Robin.") How haunting he sounds as he instructs Bruce Wayne that once Gotham is ashes, only then does he have Bane's permission to die. But it's not simply Bane and his malicious army Batman has to worry about--Selina Kyle, better known as Catwoman (Anne Hathaway), is causing quite a bit of mischief as well.  

Nolan is a director who knows his visuals. The opening sequence is a reminder of his talent for unusual, acrobatic stunts, and he seems more prone to use minimalist makeup and a lack of green suits for his characters (which certainly makes him part of a minority among directors). When he does use visual effects, he convinces the audience that every effort was taken to make it look as realistic as possible. One of the previews before the movie was for Sam Raimi's "Oz: The Great and Powerful." The movie looks like it will be filled with computer-generated effects. I was reminded of the visuals of "The Wizard of Oz" from 1939 (the same year as the first "Bat-man" comic) and I thought to myself that while I basically know that Raimi and his team used CGI for the effects, decades later I still don't know how the effects were made for "The Wizard of Oz" and yet they look so much better. The feeling I get from "The Wizard of Oz" is the feeling I get when I watch a Christopher Nolan movie; I'm so amazed at the attention to detail, and his appreciation of visual imagery and his shunning of lazy film making.
 

There are some flaws, of course. Do we need all of these characters? Michael Caine as Alfred, Gary Oldman as Commissioner Gordon, and Morgan Freeman as Lucious Fox are all back, but why have Matthew Modine here as an ambitious cop? What purpose does Marion Cotillard's character really have here?  I'm as big a fan of Joseph Gordon-Levitt as anyone, but what is he doing here?  (My question was answered at the end of the film, and I had mixed feelings about it.) There's a henchman who kind of looks like Willem Dafoe, and I was more interested in him than I was in numerous other characters. The Catwoman scenes are nice, but also are unnecessary. Additionally, this might be the most confusing Batman movie ever. There's something about the stock market and something else about a congressman or something like that. Three hours is a lot to ask for from an audience, and "The Dark Knight Rises" is unjustifiably long, overly ambitious, and increasingly clunky as it moves along. My reaction to "Batman Begins" was excitement that Batman was back; my reaction to "The Dark Knight" was excitement because I recognized that I had just seen a masterpiece. My reaction to "The Dark Knight Rises" was a bizarre sense of being simultaneously overwhelmed and underwhelmed, though ultimately feeling that it was efficient and satisfying.

Likewise, I had mixed feelings about Tom Hardy as Bane.  I admired his physical force, his performance that relies heavily on his voice and eyes, and the thought he likely put behind it.  Still, my reaction to his peculiar voice was similar to my reaction towards Bale's voice as Batman.  At times it works perfectly, and at times it sounds utterly ridiculous.  

At times I was so bored with the movie that I began to compare it to the previous Batman movies by Tim Burton; I still believe his "Batman" from 1989 is the superior one, as I have a preference towards fantastical stories and prefer it to the grittier Nolan versions. Still, one cannot deny Nolan's talent or understate our appreciation for him resurrecting what was surely a dead franchise. Beyond saving it, he brought it back with intelligence and force. Nolan toys with our emotions, as is the case with the scene where Bane and his crew shoot up Wall Street; Nolan shows us the criminality and horror of such weaponry and visualizes the chaos of terrorism.  

Batman has been such an important part of Americana. Originally meant to be a complement to the pride and patriotism (and frankly, lack of realism) of Superman, Batman, particularly Nolan's version of him, has intrigued Americans as the darker, more psychologically and sociologically interesting of the two, and indeed of any American character. Britain recently has shown us a lot of its pride with the Olympics, and who can blame them? After all, they have Bond, the Beatles, and Mr. Bean.  But America has and always will have Batman.

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Prometheus

"Why should the thirst for knowledge be aroused only to be disappointed and punished...like a second Prometheus, I will endure this and worse..."
-Edwin Abbott Abbott

Ridley Scott's "Alien" is famously about a group of "truckers in space" who, out of contractual obligations, must investigate an unidentified object deep in space, where no one can hear you scream. Their ship becomes a haunted house, as a chest-bursting alien hunts them down. Here, in Scott's prequel "Prometheus," there is no economic reality but instead a thirst for knowledge and the reminder that curiosity kills. Its scientist, Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace), and her fellow scientist and lover Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green) believe they have discovered an invitation from an alien species on a far away planet. These aren't simply aliens, but in fact some kind of scientific creators of human beings. Their project is funded by an aging Peter Weyland (Guy Pearce), and their crew features a groovy yet hypothesis-providing captain (Idris Elba) and the supervisor of the operation, Meredith Vickers (Charlize Theron), a stern, by-the-book woman, as well as an android (Michael Fassbender), practically in control of everything.

I couldn't help but constantly compare this movie to "Alien," as I should have, and compared to "Alien" it disappoints. Some might argue that it would be unfair to compare the two, considering that living up to the legacy of "Alien" is too difficult a task. But many find James Cameron's "Aliens" to be superior to its predecessor, so the comparison is fair. Whereas "Alien" is one of the most visually stunning films of all time, "Prometheus" often is a mess, overboard in its computer generated imagery, looking like a cheap computer game and not utilizing its impressive sets enough. While "Alien" features one of the greatest casts in cinematic history, only Fassbender provides a comparable performance.

But is "Prometheus" a bad film? Not really. It has its moments and indeed gets better as it goes. It prefers, for better or (more often) for worse, to tackle bigger questions than the conventional horror approach of "Alien." Here in "Prometheus" there are questions on the origin of humans and end of times. Some have complained that there are too many questions left unanswered, but remember that one of the screenwriters is Damon Lindelof, a creator of and screenwriter for "Lost," a show famous/infamous for not revealing many answers. But the questions are unnecessary, as is the teasing of its audience as it hops from enigma to enigma. There are strange holograms. One of the crew members is poisoned. Another is somehow impregnated with some sort of alien; she figures out how to get a machine to perform a Cesarean surgery on her...the absurdities continue.

But as mentioned before, Fassbender is terrific in the film. His character is David, the film's android, and is impossible to ignore, simultaneously serving as an intelligence compass for the crew and yet having a cruel lack of emotion. The only times he does seem to emote are when he either is jealous that he's "not a real boy" or when his fierce loyalty to his master compromises the safety of others.  He playfully apologizes as he seemingly is aware that his actions are making the situations more dangerous. One can find obvious influences from "2001: A Spacey Odyssey," "Lawrence of Arabia" (which David studies), and one would imagine the previous "Alien" films, but Fassbender has stated that he avoided watching those. But other than this, there is not too much else to write about, and it unfortunately feels like a missed opportunity. There are talks of a sequel, but for better or worse, it seems like "Prometheus" should be the final installment and serve as the "Godfather Part III" of the series.


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Ferngully: The Last Rainforest

"Ferngully: The Last Rainforest" was released in an era of "Captain Planet" and "The Reading Rainbow," among other shows and films serving the dual purpose of entertaining and educating the generation soon-to-be-called the Millennials. "Ferngully" is, as the title suggests, an environmentally-themed movie, and yet despite the famous film's message, Generation Millennial seems to be stuck between not buying cars and overracting to the banning of DHMO. But enough about that.  There's more to the movie than just the environment, as "Ferngully" serves as sort of a nostalgic trophy for the Millennials (and how could it not--it even has a song by Raffi.)  

Samantha Mathis provides the voice of Crysta, a fairy bored of the stories of humans destroying the last rainforest and instead desperately wanting to see an actual human (though the stories she is told say that humans no longer exist). Her wish finally comes true when she encounters humans; one of them is a young boy named Zak (Jonathan Ward), spray-painting away at the trees ready to be cut down. To save his life from a falling tree (which he helped cut), Crysta shrinks him, but now must make things right and send him back again. This being the case, it seems that the two of them fancy each other; even though he's a human and she's a fairy, he tries to teach her some of the great American slang the 80s and 90s added to our lexicon, such as "bodacious babe" (wasn't funny then; not funny now). The chemistry isn't going well, particularly because Zak is responsible for cutting down her home. But he's a city boy, and while it doesn't take him too long to comprehend the fact that he has been shrunk to the size of a bug and is talking to fairies, he has a harder time understanding the need to protect the environment. "How can you live without trees?" she asks him.  That's a good question for all of us as we watch a movie like this. Reading Al Gore's groundbreaking "Earth in the Balance," one gets a sense of alarm, that humans should shake off their apathetic laziness and turn off the air conditioning, get rid of the car, and plant a tree. Except that book was written in 1992, the same year that "Ferngully" was released, and so his scenes of fishing boats forever trapped in a vast ocean of sand are only becoming more prevalent.  (Incidentally, 1992 was also the year Gore was elected vice-president.)

With that in mind, some will say that this kind of environmental "propaganda" has no place for children. Perhaps then, the movie had and will have a limited audience. After all, this is a cartoon about tree-hugging fairies who don't have jobs--not exactly the things that make conservatives happy. But as entertainment, it gets much better as it goes, despite a rough start. The exposition is a bit silly, but then again, most mythology stories are. In the early scenes, its animation is too often not as ambitious as that seen around the same time from Disney. But at times it does provide some wonder, particularly the evening scenes when the characters climb through the forest and such.  (This movie is the original "Avatar.")

Unfortunately, it's not particularly humorous, even with Robin Williams, Cheech and Chong.  Robin Williams' character, Batty, a fruit bat who has survived a torturous ordeal under the probing of scientists, is a character way too arbitrary, even for Williams. Eventually, the character becomes more likable and fitting, especially his musical rap scene.  (1992 was also the year Williams dominated in Disney's "Aladdin" as the Genie.)  The villain here is not some lion or evil witch, but greedy human beings. The personification of their economics, though, is Hexxus, some kind of oil demon, controlling the "monster that ate the trees." Tim Curry, the man who gave us Pennywise the Clown, might be at his creepiest in this form, easily morphing his voice from one octave to another as he sings about oil, acid rain, and capitalism. Curry has that frightening devilishness he famously displayed in "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" and is at his best here as the villain.

The climax, featuring the epic battle between Zack and the fairies of Ferngully versus Hexxus and human machinery, lags and wears on bit in an unexciting fashion. But I have to admit ultimately liking the film then and now. On a scale, it falls short of an animated environmentally-themed masterpiece like "Princess Mononoke" but is far better than "Happy Feet." Overall, it's fun, educational, and, as any movie about the environment inevitably is, depressing. But it ends on a hopeful note, and even though "Ferngully: The Last Rainforest" is twenty years old, perhaps the Millennials and other generations will heed its call, particularly the final dedication which also serves somewhat as a warning: "For our children and our children's children."

Movies, movies, theater, cinema, watch, watching, watches, view,  see, saw, cinema,  film, flick, motion picture, FernGully, Tim Curry, Robin Williams, 1992, animated, Cheech and Chong, environment, Hexxus

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The Grey

It's my understanding that the perception of the wolf has evolved from two different areas. One (seen in Rome and Japan) viewed the wolf as god-like; in the other (European nations), the wolf is associated with malevolence. Unfortunately, "The Grey" takes the latter view of wolves. At a time when wolves are greatly perceived as being far more dangerous than they are--with occasional attacks in India and the former Soviet nations and only one fatal attack in North America in the past decade--"The Grey" unfairly portrays wolves as malicious man-hunters that can kill by the dozens.

Fortunately, that was practically all I disliked about it, for "The Grey" is surprisingly suspenseful, ignoring most cliches while providing lots of suspense and thrills. Take a look at its silly trailer and compare it to its practically Hitchcockian way of presenting the situations. These characters are lost in the Alaskan wild, and the blistering cold is the least of their concerns: there be wolves about them, and they are vicious and numerous. Beyond the wolves, there are several ways to die in the wild, not to mention compromising with other lost, angry, scared survivors. The crash scene reminded me a lot about "Lost" with its famous opening crash scene, and then I thought about how in "Lost," while the characters may have been running from smoke monsters, polar bears, and all sorts of stuff, they were still on a tropical island with apparently loads of conditioner and only needed to really worry about the occasional sand in their shoes. Not so in the frozen north, in which the only food you eat is a wild animal you might be able to kill. According to Liam Neeson, the film's star, it was -40 degrees during the filming in British Columbia and the blizzard was not accomplished with CGI effects.

Neeson is John Ottaway, a man hired by oil companies to protect workers from wolves. His wife has left him, and he is suicidal. The call of the wild (literally) changes his mind; he lives another day, to enter the fray and the fight. Now lost in the wilderness with only several other survivors, he more or less is the leader of the group, though there is the expected amount of competition over what to do. Some of the other survivors are played by Dermot Mulroney, Frank Grillo, and Dallas Roberts.
 
There are some additional flaws in the film. There is almost one "oh-come-on" moment after another, with several plot holes involved. Someone kept asking me afterward why they didn't simply stay put near the plane wreckage. But how thrilling would that be? The wolves aren't going to chase them in circles for two hours. Thus, a certain amount of suspension of disbelief is required, and it works in ways similar to other man-versus-wild films like "Jaws." You're frightened of the animals, but you can't hardly blame them for ripping people to shreds. But the film's grittiness and scares almost become gratuitous.

Neeson has been able to successfully reinvent himself numerous times, and now he is undoubtedly the toughest guy in the movies. He has several similar intimidating moments here, at one point threatening to beat a fellow survivor to the point where he will be choking on his own blood and another where he goes head to head with an alpha male wolf. As mentioned, Neeson has noted the terrible filming conditions in merciless cold. One day, according to Neeson, Nonso Anozie, who plays one of the survivors, started to recite Shakespeare at the top of his lungs and the experience happened to warm them. This has made me think of "King Lear." Upon relinquishing his kingdom to his ungrateful daughters, Lear went into a terrible storm. Allegorically, the storm represents the chaos Britain is in because his kingdom is divided. He is insignificant in such circumstances; he is mad. Mad indeed, "mad that thrusts in the tameness of a wolf..."  

Movies, movies, theater, cinema, watch, watching, watches, view,  see, saw, cinema,  film, flick, motion picture, Liam Neeson, The Grey, wolves, wolf, LOST, Jaws 

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The Strangest Movies of the 1970s

El Topo
Alejandro Jodorowsky's Western features a man in black accompanied by a naked child throughout the desert against little people and maimed people and naked women with a background of religious symbolism and drug-induced cinematography. This film, recently released on DVD and once a feature of midnight cinemas, is a better film than his follow-up, the even more psychadelic "Holy Mountain," and has its share of famous fans, from John Lennon to David Lynch. The element of absurdism is admirable and it's not an intolerable film; it's certainly an interesting step further to the left of Serigo Leone's Westerns, and it sure would make John Wayne furious. Still, this is one odd movie.


Arabian Nights
Famed Italian Pier Paolo Pasolini spent over two years in various different countries filming this silly wonder. The third part of his "life trilogy," (the other parts are a more watchable "The Decameron" and "The Cantebury Tales"), there is a nude character--full frontal, guys and gals--about every five minutes or so, and they're usually giggling, rarely acting, and often poorly-dubbed (even in its original Italian). Still, Pasolini somehow managed to get these naked actors to feel comfortable, and it properly prepared him for his next film and his actual masterpiece "Salo: 120 Days of Sodom." Beyond that, "Arabian Nights" is a chaotic, seemingly hastily-made movie that jumps from scene-to-scene with little thought. For further reading/viewing, read here, here and here, and view here (not work appropriate).


Black Samurai
Kierkegaard's "Fear and Tremblin" tells us that absurdism does not necessarily mean what is logically impossible but what is humanly impossible. "Black Samurai" is both. From 1977 (the year of "Star Wars" and "Annie Hall") this was blaxoitation gone far, far wrong. Jim Kelly from "Enter the Dragon" is a badass agent out to get a whiteass bad guy (who simultaenously plays with snakes and worships pagean gods). And Kelly has a pretty cool rocket pack.


There are others, like "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," Martin Scorsese's "The King of Comedy" and "Harold and Maude" which are all absurd in a good way. They are also more widely known and therefore not as relevant for a discussion here. I can't necessarily say if these first three films are recommendable or not. Pasolini was a gifted man and his "Salo" is a haunting film worth the watch for brave viewers; "Arabian Nights" was not. Jodorowosky is an acquired taste and not for everyone. "Black Samurai" might rank as an it's-so-bad-it's-good film. Regardless, they are three of the oddest movies I have ever seen.

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A Tribute to Tim Curry

When I was a kid, Tim Curry was in everything. He was the creepy (and by creepy I mean so scary that his fellow cast members avoided him) clown that helped make "It" regarded as the most frightening television miniseries in history. He was singing as a river of destructive oil in "Ferngully: The Last Rainforest". He stole the show from Tom Cruise as a demonic lord in Ridley Scott's "Legend" with hours of Oscar-nominated makeup on him. He was the best part of an all-star cast in "Clue," stumbling his away around a mysterious house with one or several murderers, and the only good part of John Huston's "Annie." He was also hysterical in "Home Alone 2: Lost in New York," as a hotel manager accused by a movie-within-a-movie character of smoochin' with a gangster's brother. He was practically omnipresent.

Before my time, there was of course the film that first made him famous: "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" in 1975. After the successful run in London and Los Angeles as "The Rocky Horror Show," the film version, with Curry as a Dr. Frankenstein-esque character singing and dancing his way around the house/space ship, has obviously become a cult class. It has also been in the news recently: "Glee" dedicated an entire episode to it, and Curry was honored as celebrities, including Evan Rachel Wood, Danny DeVito, George Lopez and Jack Nicholson, recreated the show on the stage for a benefit concert. (It didn't hurt, also, when vintage footage of a younger Russell Crowe performing in the show recently turned up.) "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," a film he once grew sick of due to the passionate (to say the least) response it had with many fans (it is the longest-running movie showing in history), acknowledged in an interview on "Fresh Air" that he recognizes it as a right-of-passage film for many. (One of the film's biggest fans, he claims, was Princess Diana.)

Curry will appear in John Landis's "Burke and Hare," and fellow star Simon Pegg seems thrilled enough that he has posted a picture of the two of them on Twitter. But to suggest that suddenly Curry has rebounded out of nowhere would be an inaccurate way to describe this talented individual. According to IMDb, he has appeared in over two-hundred projects as an actor, eight this year alone. Three of his films ("The Rocky Horror Picture Show," "Clue," and "It") will soon be remade.

Roger Ebert wrote in his review of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," a film he didn't like, that Curry was the most enjoyable cast member to watch because, for one, he was the only one (according to Ebert) who looked like he was having fun. Indeed, Curry seems to be always having fun in his films. He has a taste for the hyperbole, which heightens the enjoyment, whether he's complimenting Sylvester Stallone's daughter's big, round diphthongs in "Oscar," or going toe-to-fin with Kermit the Frog in "Muppet Treasure Island," or butchering a Romanian accent in the guilty-pleasure film "Congo."

Tim Curry has never quite been a main-stream actor. Often he is "the guy from..." or something like that; many of his performances may forever be lost in the Nickelodeon vault of history and time. But many of his films have gained cult film status, such as "Times Square," in which he played a radio show host. The film was not particularly well-reviewed upon its release in 1980, but since has become celebrated by the queer community for its portrayal of young (implied) lesbians. "Clue," likewise, virtually became unknown despite its all-star cast, solid reviews, and famous title. It was only with the popularity of home video and its frequent showing on Comedy Central that it became well-known. Of course, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" in 1975 was the firm visualization of surreal camp, with its tribute to B-horror and science fiction movies, rock 'n' roll, and transvestism. Curry, likewise, has never really been a leading man, and he has claimed in interviews that he doesn't want to be one. He usually is his best when surrounded by other talented performers.

He has won several awards, like an Emmy in the 1990s for providing the voice of Captain Hook in the animated show "Peter Pan and the Pirates." He has also been nominated for a Tony twice, first as playing the title role in "Amadeus" opposite Ian McKellen in 1980 and again as King Arthur in "Spamalot" in 2005. Still, something even as prestigious as a Golden Globe or even a Hollywood Star has been kept from him. (But he did open the Oscars one year.) In essence, Tim Curry is Hollywood's best kept secret for a quarter-of-a-century.

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