Week of January 24-January 30: The African Queen (1951) and Shane (1953)

Week 3

Bonnie and Clyde (1967)

Many remember this film for its violence. And while it’s tame by today’s standards, it was intensely violent for the late 1960’s—especially in its last scene. Some even suggest it glorifies violence.

But I (mostly) disagree with that.

I don’t know enough about the real Bonnie Parker or Clyde Barrow to discuss the historical accuracy of the film (although I suspect it's not particularly accurate), but the characters as they're presented in the film are sympathetic. They’re young, adventure-seeking, foolish, and rash. But they don’t seem to mean any real harm—or, at least they don’t understand that they’re causing any. Anyone they kill “made” them do it. They believe that the Law is the villain. And by the end of the whole mess, the audience might feel that way, too.

So violence is not what sticks with me from this picture--it’s sadness. In the film, Bonnie and Clyde are tragic figures. Faye Dunaway’s Bonnie (especially) is absolutely devastated about what she’s left behind, about the hopelessness of the future she’s dived headfirst into. The film even looks sad, as we move from one depressed locale to another (it does take place during the Depression, after all). Even as criminals, the gang wasn't living very large. And the majority of people they encountered along their way were even worse off than they were.

Unsurprisingly, Warner Brothers didn’t like the film. The studio wanted to bury it. They even gave Beatty (the producer) a deal granting him about 40% of the gross, because they were so sure it would be (and so wanted it to be) a flop. 

But he laughed all the way to the bank (which he, incidentally, did not need to rob).

This is another film that I last saw more than a decade ago, and viewing it this week, I was surprised by how few actual robberies are shown in the film—and the ones they do show are kind of funny. The “gang” fumbles through them. None of the characters are particularly competent criminals, aside from their ability to get out of a handful of sticky situations. Even the iconic (historical) photo of Bonnie holding a gun, with a cigar in her mouth and her leg up on a car, is depicted in the film as a photo taken at least somewhat in jest (or simply on a whim). Arthur Penn (the director) and Beatty seem to want the pair to come across as folk heroes. Or at least that the Bonnie and Clyde in the picture thought they were folk heroes.

The film swings wildly (and jarringly, but deliberately) between romantic and sexy to funny to brutally violent. And it works. I didn't love the film. The pacing is inconsistent. The process shots in some of the car scenes are distracting in an otherwise organic-looking film. And the movie certainly doesn't pack the same wallop it did when it was released nearly 50 years ago. But I still liked it. Even if it made me sad. Maybe because it made me sad. Killing kills. Actions have consequences. And justice isn't always just.

Wizard of Oz (1939)
I apologize, because I keep returning to this, and I suspect it will continue to pop up throughout this list, but the creativity that went into developing special effects before the dawn of CG amazes me. The tornado sequence in this film is both thrilling and visually stunning. The image of the cyclone in the background as Dorothy desperately seeks her family is dazzling. Even the sequence of objects flying by the window while the house spins within the vortex holds up pretty well. The effects, quite simply, are magical.

The whole movie is magical. Admittedly, it has a nostalgic effect on me. Aside from it being a childhood favorite, I had the chance in fifth grade to appear in the local high school's production of The Wizard of Oz, when they cast several upper elementary aged students as munchkins. I even got to say the line, “You killed her so completely that we thank you very sweetly” one night when one of the kids was out sick. At least, I think that was the line. It was almost 25 years ago.

But back to the film. The sets, makeup, effects, music—everything. It's just so much fun. There are so many iconic moments, but they mostly still ring true, diluted very little (at least for me) by their cultural ubiquity. I still think the Tin Man’s dance is a delight. I’m still a little freaked out about the flying monkeys. And I still think Judy Garland had some tremendous pipes.

This is also one of the few films on the list I can watch with my son. And he asked me to watch it. Some of the characters popped up in the Lego Dimensions video game that he’s been playing. And every time we fired up the Charlie Brown Christmas DVD this past year, it opened with a decade-old anti-piracy campaign that prominently features the Wizard of Oz. So he knew the gist of it and wanted to see the real thing for himself.

And he loved it. He was bouncing on the couch, cheering, dancing, singing—even cuddling into me a bit during the scarier parts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so animated during a film—not even during an animated film. Wizard of Oz is nearly 80 years old, and it still has the power to thrill a kindergartner (who otherwise currently thinks that farts and toilets are about the funniest things this side of the rainbow and beyond). 

Your thoughts on either? Both?

Week of January 17-January 23: Bonnie and Clyde (1967) and Wizard of Oz (1939)

Week 2

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)
One of the big ones. Directed by Spielberg. Scored by Williams. Released the same year as Star Wars (and probably just as influential and iconic—at least in the film world, if not in pop-culture). Full of iconic elements—like the mashed potato Devil’s Tower and the haunting five-note melody the aliens use to communicate. At almost 40, the film has aged well. It’s so imaginative and creative. From the story, with it’s gradually unfolding mystery and building tension, to the magical special effects that still look fantastic.

This is a film that wouldn’t happen today. For a number of reasons. From a storytelling aspect, the alien encounters in the film would quickly go viral given the ubiquity of cell phone cameras, which would totally spoil the suspense and build-up and mystery about what’s going on. Few other characters would doubt Dreyfus’s character (or the other “believers”), as they would have seen alien evidence on YouTube. Also, the pacing (while perfect for the film) would likely test the patience of contemporary audiences; you take a journey with this film. And the climax, while awe-inspiring, is not action-packed. It amounts to something like a rousing, cyber-rendition of dueling banjos. Not to mention that the aliens turn out to be friendly—unlike most alien films before and since, in which aliens have come to invade and conquer and destroy instead of study and learn and befriend. Finally, the special effects would likely have been produced using computer effects (CGI, as we commonly call it). And I’m sure it would have looked just great. But it wouldn’t have been the same. Yeah, I’m old-school, but there’s something to be said about practical effects, and how well they hold up over time, how natural they look and feel, how creative the filmmakers had to get to make them happen. 

Check out how they did that crazy sky in the film. they used something called a Cloud Tank.

Tootsie (1982)
The music and clothing date it a bit, and I’m not crazy about the last 15 minutes, but overall, this Tootsie is a fun one. Excellent cast (and casting). Loved seeing a post-Caddyshack and Stripes (but pre-Ghostbusters) Bill Murray as the deadpan playwright roommate. And Hoffman is phenomenal in his dual role, especially as Dorothy. Jessica Lange, in her Oscar-winning performance, brings a believable sadness to an otherwise rather thinly-drawn character. And Teri Garr (I just realized this was apparently the unofficial Teri Garr week, as she appeared in both films) has little screen time but steals every scene she’s in.

Especially considering the era in which it was made, Tootsie does delve into some interesting explorations of gender roles. In many ways it challenges them (usually for comedic effect), but in many other ways, it affirms them (again, for comedic effect). I like Hoffman’s Michael’s Dorothy’s character a lot. And I read an interview once in which Hoffman said how important this film and role were to him. But at the end of the day, Tootsie is a broad comedy (seriously, absolutely no pun intended)--a Shakespearean-esque farce of mistaken identity that offers some interesting food for thought but ultimately maintains the status-quo.

Best line (of many): “I was a better man with you (as a woman) than I ever was with a woman (as a man)—know what I mean?”

Get a chance to watch either? Your thoughts?

Week of January 10-January 16: Tootsie (1982) 7 Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)

Week 1

It’s past midnight and therefore technically Sunday. My bad. In my defense, I did watch both movies before the deadline. But today was Christmas-deocration-take-down-and-general-winter-clean-up day at our humble abode. And tonight we had a fun evening with friends, eating some delicious soup and looking at photo highlights from 2015.

In short, I don’t regret my marginal lateness, and I hope you don’t fault me for it, either.

Bringing Up Baby (1938) 
Like many of the films on this list, I had already seen this one—but more than a decade ago. It’s actually much funnier than I remember, despite a slow start with stiff acting and clunky writing. I feel like several movies from this era sort of feel more like stage productions, at least early on. Movements are exaggerated and dialogue is expositional. But once Hepburn shows up, the film hits its stride. Which is interesting, because I guess Hawks wasn’t pleased with her comedic acting when filming began (but with the help of an acting coach, she figured out an appropriate persona for her character—one more natural than the one she tried at first).

The coincidences and escalating misunderstandings are, of course, absurd. But they’re supposed to be. If you acquiesce to its screwball nature and just go along for the ride, you’ll decide Baby works. It actually sort of reminds me of a Shakespearean comedy that deftly walks the line between funny and tragic.

I’m impressed, too, by the animal training (or at least by the movie magic that created such memorable scenes without any humans getting mauled). It’s almost enough to make me want to get a pet leopard. Almost.

My only misgiving about the film—and I suspect this might be a misgiving about a few films on this list—is the gender politics. Hepburn’s character is the comic foil—I get it—but the degree to which she is depicted as selfish and foolish occasionally feels excessive. However, as off-putting as that might be for some, it’s not a movie-breaker. Because not every female character in the film is presented this way. And I think it has more to do with her character being a foil than her character being a woman. She’s the Laurel to Grant’s Hardy, the Costello to his Abbott.

In short, I enjoyed Bringing Up Baby. It won’t be my favorite comedy on this list, but it won’t be my least favorite, either. Grant and Hepburn are a good duo. The plot is silly fun. And the jaguar is impressive.

The Deer Hunter (1978)

This is one of the films on the list that I hadn’t seen yet—at least not in its entirety. It’s not what I was expecting, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. First off, the pacing and structure are interesting (even odd?), I think, for a war film (or any film). The first hour covers just over a day—the last day, in fact, before three young men from a Western Pennsylvania town head off to war. There’s a wedding and a hunting trip. Then we’re abruptly thrust into Vietnam for the second hour, where the young men spend much of the time as POWs. In the final hour, we get the aftermath of the war, as its lingering physical and psychological effects take their toll on the three. 

Second, the film is immersive and natural. It’s got a lived-in feel. From the ample time we spend with the central characters in that first hour—just hanging out with them, listening to their banter, watching them hunt, observing their drunken shenanigans at the wedding—to the brief, uncomfortable interactions with grateful townsfolk we witness when they return, Cimino does a good job making us feel like we know these guys, like we know the town, like we’ve been there and lived it. For better and for worse.

And finally, the film is pretty quiet and contemplative—filled with long takes and beautiful photography (especially during the hunting scenes)—occasionally punctuated by moments of extreme and graphic violence.

The overall tone and pacing makes the film feel familiar, yet uncomfortable, like we know—or at least understand—this place, these people, this situation. But we’d rather not. It’s a bad dream we’ve had before but we can’t wake ourselves from.

The film is occasionally heavy-handed, like during the unapologetically political “God Bless America” sing-along in the final scene. And the Russian Roulette sequences, which figure prominently into the story, are intensely thrilling and metaphorically rich, but their length and frequency are brutal.

But that’s the point, right? In a film that is otherwise so familiar and comfortable, we need these nightmarish elements to taint even the “good” that we witnessed early on. Everything’s different. Unlike Bringing Up Baby, Deer Hunter relies very little on exposition to tell a story. Cimino, instead, shows us this story. And for three hours, we live it.

What are your thoughts on these films?

Week of January 3-January 9: Bringing Up Baby (1938) & The Deer Hunter (1978)