Week 21 - A Streetcar Named Desire [1951]

Based on the Tennessee Williams play of the same name, “A Streetcar Named Desire” is a movie that broke film barriers in 1951 but never caught my interest today. The film features Vivian Leigh (of Gone With the Wind) playing Blanche Dubois (another southern belle who came from affluence and lost everything). Down on her luck, she moves in with her sister Stella (Kim Hunter), who lives in a dingy 2-room flat in New Orleans. Blanche immediately clashes with her brother-in-law Stanley (Marlin Brando), who digs to uncover Blanche’s murky past with all the sensitivity of a raging alcoholic.

Though an ok premise, I personally found the film boring from the start. There’s something about stage-play adaptations that tends to feel one dimensional and fake to me. I recognize the literary source material is revered, but when on screen, the dialogue is unconvincing and the stakes feel lowered. The depiction of sexuality, groundbreaking at the time, had all the modern-titillation of an exposed ankle and the ‘shocking climax’ seemed to come out of left field. And not to be a Snowflake, but even with his gradual framing as the antagonist, I can’t help but feel the film somehow glorifies Stanley’s toxic masculinity by focusing on how attractive Brando was as he raged in his sweaty, tight, sometimes torn off shirts.

Recognizing this, I gotta admit that Marlin Brando’s performance was the breakout of the film (apparently one of the film’s claim-to-fame is it’s the first film to feature a modern “method” acting style). And he does act his ass off in circles around his co-stars. The fact that Brando played so modern and real against Leigh’s classical-largeness actually aided the depiction of Blanche and Stanley as diametric opposites. Finally, in a film about secrets, I loved the use of light and shadows as physical symbols of the story.

Though still somehow mustering a 98% on Rotten Tomatoes, this film has landed near the bottom of my list, likely the result of an aging story mismatching my preferences. But if this is was the film I have to suffer through to get “On The Waterfront” (made by the same director, lead, and supporting), then it was worth it.

Week 20 - 2001: A Space Odyssey [1968]

Going into this weekly film-challenge, I knew I wanted to catch some films on my list in an actual theater. So you can imagine how pleased I was when, last week, I was clicking through reddit and saw the poster announcing the 50th anniversary re-release of “2001: A Space Odyssey” (incidentally, reddit took a collective shit on the poster's design, but it got me in the theater, so ¯_(ツ)_/¯). I (correctly) assumed this was the PERFECT film to see in theaters (in 70mm film, no less!) and found it was screening just 10 minutes away from me. I moved my film schedule around, invited my sci-fi loving father, and bought tickets for a Saturday showing. But, in a moment of theater-operations bad luck, the screening was cancelled 15 minutes after its scheduled start due to technical difficulties with the audio system. How weird!

The theater compensated us and sure enough I was back the following day, this time with my wife (who knew the film wasn't her cup of tea, but felt bad for me or something). By the time the overture began, I was overcome with excitement and anxiety. It’s a weird thing to describe, but more than most films on this year’s list, I felt it was somehow important that I liked this one.

It is strange to be such a fan and consumer of science fiction and yet go into this film relatively blind; it’s as if I’ve experienced the whole genre backwards. I kept seeing scenes, sequences, and edits that were tremendously familiar to me. It felt like a love-letter to sci-fi, featuring nods to everything from Star Wars to Wall·E, except, I had to keep reminding myself that this film came first! Everything I knew paid homage to this, most significantly (to me) being Interstellar, which seemed to borrow from the entire narrative.

If Interstellar is something of “exposition the movie” (not a full slight; I do love Interstellar), “2001” is the opposite. By design, it is enormously non-verbal and expanse, leading to moments of torturous slowness. I found myself tolerating dull scenes under the auspices of promised genius, which I found in moments: I enjoyed the humor and beauty of the docking sequence and the eerie captivation of the lunar dig-site. HAL’s murderous mutiny and Dave’s desperate dismantling (forgive the unnecessary alliteration) was incredibly calculated, tense, and emotional.

I concluded the screening very much intrigued, but undecided on the film. After assuming I had a grasp on some of the film’s early symbols, and enjoying the tangibility of the second act(s), my interpretation of the film fell apart by the end. My wife and I turned to each other with a collective “WTF” and left the theater in silence, daring not offend the film buffs around us. Despite struggling with this ending, the film sat on my mind and I spent portions of the afternoon digging through Wikipedia, tribute articles, forums, and vlogs looking for interpretation. I found proposed answers to be cathartic, insightful, and somewhat ironic.

At the end of the day, I think I could safely say that I liked the film—but I didn’t love it. I appreciate all of its influence. I am awestruck by its visuals (+ music choice). And I am impressed by the audacity of its scope. I know I want to watch it again but I am in no hurry to get to another viewing. I appreciate the film like a tourist in the Louvre, or young man sipping his first glass of Scotch—I recognize there’s complexity there that I'm probably not seeing. Complexity provides layers to explore and details to love but it can also veil defects and alienate. But for whatever distaste I had for moments that were slow or intellectually opaque, there was plenty of leftover brilliance to go around. And for that, I liked this film after all.

Week 19 - When Harry Met Sally [1989]

I don’t know if it’s surprising or predictable that I loved “When Harry Met Sally”. After my mixed-feelings about last week’s art-film “A Clockwork Orange”, I feel a bit un-cool to so readily throw five stars at this work of pop-cinema. But I’d argue there’s a lot under the hood that makes this film so endearing to me.

True to it’s name, the film literally opens with our two characters meeting. Wasting no time on complex plot points or superfluous details, it maximizes a 96 minute run-time by immediately developing Harry and Sally (as characters and as a couple) nearly entirely through their conversations. I think this is one of the movie’s great strengths. By my interpretation, the first act takes up nearly 70% of the film, allowing the characters to just talk to each other without external conflict. By doing this, the movie doesn’t tell us these two are falling in love—it shows us.

Of course, we the audience go along with this otherwise simple plot and the underdeveloped world around the characters because this simplicity allows us to see ourselves (and our partners) in the characters. Oh, and because well executed banter is fun! Nora Ephron’s dialogue was the sincere and accessible structure of the film, while Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan’s chemistry and delivery was the glue that held it together. And as a last point, I REALLY loved the supporting contributions of the late Bruno Kirby and Carrie Fischer as the “best friends” that provided balance and levity to the whole thing when it got serious.

Ultimately, the movie’s depiction of love feels so grounded and natural that you can’t help but forgive it when it reminds you that it’s just a dopey romantic comedy after all. Whether it’s Meg Ryan’s bad crying, Billy Crystal’s bad “I’m running to tell her I love her” scene, or the implausibility of their eventual reunion, I stopped asking myself if I bought the story and just allowed myself to enjoy it. For me, that's what a good movie should do.

Week 18 - A Clockwork Orange [1971]

The only thing I knew about "A Clockwork Orange" going into it was that it was directed by Stanley Kubrick and featured a guy in a bowler hat with pointed eyelashes around one eye. I would soon learn that it's a story about a futuristic British gang leader committing violent crime, getting caught, sent to prison, and by his own volition, subject to an experimental treatment that creates a painful physiological response to violence and sex (and Beethoven), who then gets released, rejected, and reaps the agony he sowed earlier in the film. Oh, and there's tons of boobs, bush, and a penis or two.

Yeah. Seriously. It's a rather trippy, dense, and thought-provoking film and it really takes you on a roller coaster ride sans restraints.

The film is definitely trying to say something. Included among its many themes is the nature of criminality and morality, an argument between retribution v. rehabilitation, "good" as defined as a "choice" v. the mere absence of "bad", the ineffectual government structures of both the Left and the Right, the ethics of personality-changing psychological treatment, the hypocrisy of society and where the line of acceptability is drawn, and the role of aggression and lust in art. It's all good stuff but when grouped together becomes pretty overwhelming.

In fact, if it wasn't for how well the narrator Alex DeLarge (played unrecognizably by Malcom McDowell) told his story, it would have been easy to get lost in this mess. But alas, I pushed through my viewing because I was intrigued by our main character. This is, admittedly, despite his unredeemable propensity for physical and sexual assault. That's what I found fascinating about the film: Our main character is the villain, who does villainous things, and deserves none of our empathy--and yet you cant help but continue watching this train wreck of a story and hope he turns out ok.

I ultimately didn't like this film. At least, right now, I feel I didn't like this film. I waffle between considering it cinematic brilliance or the worst piece of avant-garde bullshit to be included on my list. I suppose a real critic would have to sift through those feelings and decide but for me, well--I can simply leave it where it is.

Week 17 - North by Northwest [1959]

North by Northwest began with a fascinating premise and then earned my admiration with its brilliant filmmaking. In the movie, Roger Thornhill (played by Cary Grant) is mistaken for a government agent by enemy-spy Phillip Vandamm (James Mason), who immediately hatches schemes to kill him. As Thornhill runs from these attempts on his life, he is unluckily mistaken for a murderer and the chase expands to include the police. With the help of Eve Kendall (the beautiful Eva Marie Saint), and her murky-motivations, Thornhill must stay ahead of each of his pursuers while searching for the secret agent he is mistaken to be.

I loved this film. I found it to be humorous, stylish, sexy, and brilliantly paced. It also has a soundtrack that I fell in love with (composed by Bernard Herrmann, who would do Psycho). I typically binge TV while playing games on my phone, but I was so hooked to the quick-witted dialogue and suspenseful sequences that I had to pause the film any time I were to step out of the room for a mere few seconds. I particularly liked the banter between Grant and Saint (rather spicy for 1959). Apparently the film has been called the “first James Bond” and, loving 007-flicks, I could see and appreciate this comparison.

If I wasn’t rounding up (the spreadsheet I track my viewings on requires “whole stars”), I’d probably give this movie a 4.5/5 stars. I loved everything about it except for my the finale: I didn’t find the climactic Mount Rushmore chase scene to be thrilling. The scenic backdrop couldn’t save the sequence and its resolution was a bit Deus Ex Machina (followed by a quick jump cut to a hurried “everything’s fine now” moment). I’m all for a dynamic character but Thornhill went from being a reluctant bystander to super-spy a bit too fast for me.

Still, ending aside, the film was great. It was pleasant palate cleanser and a relatively safe choice before some of the strange flicks in the coming weeks. I have two more Hitchcock films I will visit before the end of the year, so stay tuned!

Week 16 - Apocalypse Now [1979]

Apocalypse Now was one of the best first-2/3rds of a movie I've watched so far this year. This Vietnam War story follows Martin Sheen's Benjamin Willard, who must join a navy crew and secretly boat upriver into Cambodia in order to find and execute the rouge-American Colonel Kurtz (like a bizzaro-Saving Private Ryan). The film features a stellar cast of actors in their prime, including Robert Duvall, Dennis Hopper, Laurence Fishburne, (a surprise-to-me cameo by Harrison Ford), and a fat Marlon Brando.

You know a film is influential when its sequences and phrases have grown larger than its story. "I love the smell of napalm in the morning" is one of the most recited and parodied movie quotes of all time and is wonderfully delivered by Duvall's Colonel Kilgore. (As an aside, both passionate and oblivious, Kilgore was probably my favorite character in the film). And of course, the helicopter approach scene is the greatest use of Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries" since the Bugs Bunny cartoons. The first two acts are a fascinating, increasingly personal and trippy look at war and its supporting characters.

Unfortunately, everything the film seemed to be building towards fell apart in the third act. The native tribe/rouge army conclusion may have been a natural derivation from the film's source material (the novella "Heart of Darkness"), but it steered a perfectly good film into a cooky place. To make matters worse, apparently Marlin Brando showed up on set so fat and sloppy, they had to rewrite the ending and shoot him in the dark! His babbling could have come off sounding like one the Joker's more lucid speeches; instead, it was as succinct as a shart. The whole thing felt like Coppola knew he couldn't stick the landing and thought he could distract us with the bullshit symbolism of pseudo-artsy fever-dream.

I'm learning to appreciate a film for the sum of its parts and not simply its narrative progression--so despite the lame-ass ending, I have to say I actually really liked this film. If you haven't seen it, I do recommend giving this one a watch; you might be surprised by how much you'll enjoy it.

Week 15 - Bonnie and Clyde [1967]

Bonnie and Clyde is a film so influential, that it almost doesn’t feel remarkable; the cinematic mores it created are so commonplace today, it’s hard to appreciate them on a first watch. It took an after-movie trip to Wikipedia (a post-viewing ritual of mine) to realize the extent of its influence: Its depiction of violence and sex, technical achievements like editing-style and the use of squibs (tiny explosives mounted within costumes to simulate gunshots), and the ability to exist within different genres.

I did enjoy Bonnie and Clyde. Its pacing and setting reminded me of “No County for Old Men”, with occasional comedic flourishes to pep it up (shout-out to a surprise Gene Wilder cameo). Dunaway and Beatty we’re both hotties of their time (while Gene Hackman has always looked schleppy, I must say) and their interplay was amusing. The film must have been a trip for contemporary cinema-goers, with the actual Bonnie and Clyde exploits just 35 years before the film’s release.

While you might not get Godfather-level violence without this film, this film could have benefited from Coppola’s structure and character building. The film was about robbing banks in the Great Depression and yet I never really figured out why the characters were driven to this life. It felt weird that the most visited character arc involved Clyde conquering his impotence. And don’t tell me that’s some bullshit metaphor. 😂

Still, I liked the film; understanding its influence is just icing on the cake.

Week 14 - Lethal Weapon [1987]

When my film-school attraction Lead heard about last week's disappointed review, he thought I was pure bananas. When I told him about this week's film, there was a near spit-take. Yes, yes, I'm following up "Ben-Hur" with "Lethal Weapon". When building this year's film list, I wanted to break the cycle of weighty dramas with genre films. Obviously, this would fall into the "Action" category.

"Lethal Weapon" checked all of the boxes I would expect and love from an action film. Guns, explosions, drugs, boobs (and some young, anti-Semitic ass, for the ladies), and plenty of witty banter. That being said, the action left a lot to be desired. I suppose I'm spoiled by the modern, high-def, wide-shot, long-take action I get today, but even after shitting on it last week, I'll admit that Ben Hur's action was more believable.

The buddy-cop premise was where the movie gathered its strength. TIME Magazine called the film "Mad Max meets The Cosby Show" and the two contrasting characters, a now-familiar but satisfying trope, is where the film had its fun. But it wasn't enough to keep me invested.

Ultimately, the poorly aged '80s design (and music), unreal fight scenes, and silly characters was too much for me. I do question this movie's place on my list, but I'm glad I watched it. It felt just as much a "time and place" as "Singin' in the Rain", or any other film I've watched and I had a few chuckles.

Week 13 - Ben-Hur [1959]

When I was building my list, Cindy casually mentioned that she's never seen 'Ben-Hur' in its entirety but that it was always on TV in her house around Easter. So, it became my "Easter" movie. With sensitivity, but without apology, I must preface that I don't invest in the biblical story of Jesus. Which paints the way I interpret this movie, true, but not unfairly (I think!). While I found it to be heavy-handed with its biblical references (it played like bad propaganda), I thought scenes with Jesus were beautifully shot and the emotional high-point of the film.

In fact, once you removed Judah's interactions with the out-of-focus Jesus, you're left with an interesting character arc that meandered around a plot so simple, it could easily be summarized by a two-sentence Netflix content description. However, remember, this is all taking place over 224 minutes!!! With long takes that gave the wooden actors too much time to breath and a liberal interpretation of the phrase "editing", this film dragged on and on and on. The film reeks of its self-importance and, other than its hefty score and beautiful sets, executes its epic-ness in all the wrong ways.

This critique even extends to the film's famous chariot race scene. Despite the gorgeous cinematography (apparently director William Wyler didn't want to shoot in widescreen; can you imagine this famous scene in 4:3???), my family would collectively groan/laugh as shots of the "rotating fish lap markers" reminded us that we still had 15 minutes of racing to go.

As is the case, I left Ben Hur the way I left Avatar in 2009: In appreciation of its spectacle but parched by its lack of substance. Again, perhaps this is because the Christianity stuff whizzed over my head, but I like to think there are plenty of filmmaking reasons why this film deserves my 2/5 rating.

Week 12 - This Is Spinal Tap [1984]

After 4 weeks of heavy films (back to back Nicholson dramas and the Godfathers) I knew I would need to palate cleanse with a lighter, comedic flick. Now, comedy is a hard genre to pick from, namely because humor is super-subjective and critics/awarding bodies don’t spend as much time with the genre. But after marinating on a (still to come) screening of The Jerk, I ultimately chose to watch This Is Spinal Tap.

There’s something spectacular about the mockumentary format and this one has got to be the best, no? To operate on a level that parodies both a topic (rock ’n roll) and a genre (documentary) is some next level meta. Considering comedy today thrives on over-the-top caricature, placing unreasonably silly people into unrealistically silly premises (think Zoolander, Anchorman, Hangover, etc.), a comedy that obsessively focused on establishing its reality is refreshing. But, it is also admittedly limiting. While I enjoyed each stand-alone skit or riff, the plot's arch was as uninteresting to me as, well, as a real documentary!

Ultimately, for a film parent to as many references as this one, its biggest fault was that I knew a lot of the punchlines. Between watching the trailer, chatting with friends, and a few comedy essays online, each of the major hit moments were awfully familiar. I mean, c’mon—IMDB actually rates the film on a scale of “11”! What was left was a series of clever and charming bits that never really had me LOL’ing, but rather smirking and giggling (on the inside).

That’s still a special kind of magic and I’m sure as shit glad that I finally saw this film. It just both was, and wasn’t, my favorite type of comedy.

Week 11 - The Godfather, Part II [1974]

Of the 52 films I've arranged to watch this year, only one sequel managed to crack the list. For all of the snooty reasons why film critics and "best film"-list creators dismiss franchises, the biggest reason is that I've seen most of the "great sequels"--Empire Strikes Back, T2: Judgement Day, The Dark Knight, The Two Towers, Wrath of Khan--the list goes on. But this would be my first pass at The Godfather, Part II (the first film to even call itself "two", making sequel history, apparently).

I'm going to throw my hat in with the folks who say that Part II is 'a great film that almost matches the original', but it doesn't quite get there for me. I love the effort and craft in telling two interwoven stories, but I didn't find it as original as the online consensus makes it out to be. In fact, it's precisely the inverted character arcs that occurred in the first film, just in reverse (and all the more clunky for not occurring in real time).

Still, it remains a great film and, if not for its original, would be the reigning champ. Telling this character story amidst the backdrop of the Cuban Revolution was ambitious and De Niro's scenes made murder look as charming as it gets. Finally, Pacino remains freakin' brilliant. While the first film was an ensemble effort, Pacino more lopsidedly carried this one, showing off more acting chops as he depicts Michael coming apart at the edges.

More than Part I, this film cements the Godfather story as a true "American Tale" and continues to play with your ability to root for anybody. And for that, I applaud Coppola and now rank both Part I and II higher than Captain E.O. in my "favorite Coppola films" list.

Week 10 - The Godfather [1972]

Can you believe we're already 1/5th of the way through this year?!? Anyway, this week I finally took an honest look at The Godfather. It's a film I've seen bits and pieces of already; a film with tremendous hype (including from my brother Josh). Though I couldn't get in to it before, I'm older and have more patience for a slow burn like this...

And I loved it. It was an brilliant picture--written, shot, and acted with tremendous care. Brando, Pacino, Caan, Duval, Keaton, and the rest of the ensemble were god damn great, with my personal favorite being Pacino. His ability to begin fresh and baby-faced and finish a coldhearted Don was an amazing display of performance-gymnastics.

What impresses me most is how well structured the film is. Despite dense storytelling and a long runtime, I counted 4 clear, well-paced acts. Additionally, there was certain symmetry to the plot and character arcs (Vito's declining health against Michael's growing ambition, Connie's marriage starting and ending the film...the list goes on) that was incredibly fulfilling to watch. And I have yet to watch a film (in this project) that ratchets up tension (without gimmick) as well as this one--from a horse's head, to Michael's first restaurant kills, to a baby's cry during a baptism/mass-murder.

Though not yet my favorite or most re-watchable film, it's damn-near up there and I will give this movie the credit it deserves: it's the closest thing to a "perfect film" that I have yet seen.

Week 9 - One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest [1975]

By pure coincidence, my film pick on this Oscar Weekend was one of only 3 films in Academy Award history to take home a statue for each of the "big 5" categories: Best Film, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, and Best Screenplay. I'd say it was rather well deserved.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is a funny and dramatic story about power, dignity, and culture. The film was a fascinating tennis match of subtle power-grabs between Nicholson's mischievous encouragement and Nurse Ratchet (expertly portrayed by Louise Fletcher) and her passive-aggressive rule. Nicholson's Randle was the first person to treat those in the ward with respect and, through independence, celebration, and even sex, he was able to help his peers feel like real men--a medicine in and of itself. Finally, the film represents the battle between free-spiritedness and disciplinary-order representative of America in the '70s (and continuing to today).

I give it a 4.5/5, but have no biting criticism of the film (the 0.5 is for the ending that fell a wee bit flat on me). It was a fantastic character study with major implications for our society and how we treat those who are different--and yet remained thoroughly enjoyable to watch. In a world where I am growing less confident in the Academy Awards and its ability to identify the great films of our time, these five gold statues remains highly deserved.

Week 8 - Chinatown [1974]

Today, Los Angeles's Chinatown is a somewhat dull tourist attraction, increasingly targeted for new, expensive apartment developments. Apparently--80 years ago--it was known for being a seedy hotbed of Chinese gang activity of which the police could hardly make heads-or-tails. Had I known this, the final line ("Forget it Jake, it's Chinatown.") might have meant something to me but I was left scratching my head as the credits rolled.

I guess that's how I could summarize the film as a whole: Chinatown is a well acted and expertly constructed film that didn't mean much to me. I take some responsibility for that. Film noir, in general, is a genre I struggle with. It takes itself too seriously, scales up character drama while scaling down character development, and is chock full of overplayed tropes. And the film's big twist/reveal felt particularly uncomfortable if you know anything about Roman Polanski's personal history.

While the movie didn't land with me, I think there's plenty of individual things I enjoyed about it. I owe a great deal to Jack Nicolson for playing Jake Gittes with such inquisitive charm that I was able to maintain interest for as long as I did. I also loved the film's premise, an excellent fictional interpretation of William Mulholland and the California Water Wars. As a Santa Claritian, the film's use of the Van Der Lip Dam Disaster (pulled directly from the St. Francis Dam disaster, a tragic hometown claim to fame) was spot on. And I always love a movie that can show me "old Los Angeles".

Again, I suspect the film is designed to leave me feeling as unsatisfied as a vice cop in 1930's Chinatown. And for that, it succeeded, an expert example of the filmmaking craft. But a carefully constructed "meh" is still a "meh". 🤷🏼‍♂️

Week 7 - Singin' in the Rain [1952]

Despite a 100% Certified Fresh rating and a prominent position on numerous "best films of all time" lists, I didn't think I'd like this. While I do enjoy musicals, a dance-heavy film full of old-Hollywood flash isn't my cup of tea. Thus, I scheduled it for Valentine's Day week to make a date-night of it with Cindy; I figured, even if it wasn't "my thing", I could at least get brownie-points with my lady. But, man did I like it! Well written, funny, and you can't help but hum out those classic tunes long after the film is done.

"Singin' in the Rain" is a story about love and about perspective. Where I expected the titular song to be mere shallow lyrics, subservient to the classic tap sequence, I found the allegory that the entire film is hinged upon: the ability to find enjoyment (and even solutions) in misfortune and chaos. It's a great life lesson and one that is demonstrated with charm, cheer, and a tremendous amount of effort by Kelly, Reynolds, and O'Conner.

The songs were fun and the dancing was cool. I will acknowledge the one spot where the film lost me a bit was in its longest and most abstract dance sequence, "The Broadway Ballet". At nearly 14 minutes, it just went on too long and in a way that didn't serve the story well. Knowing that Co-Director/Star Gene Kelly was a dancer before all else, it seemed self-indulgent. Again, it could just be me hating on ballet, but I would consider Mary Poppins' "Step in Time" to be a better example of 'long-ass dance sequence in a third act'.

Still, I left yet another film in this series with a great sense of enjoyment and, despite my patent pessimism, a well needed lesson in optimism. I suppose that's why one watches the most classic Hollywood Musical of all time!

Week 6 - On the Waterfront [1954]

I managed to approach this film knowing practically nothing about it: Marlon Brando, black and white, "I could have been a contender." I actually wrongfully assumed it was a boxing moving after its reference in "Raging Bull"! But it was so much more; I really loved this movie!

The plot is a classic "rise up" story. It depicts the courage required and isolation endured in standing up to wrongdoing, and the feelings of love and regret that can refuel a man on the journey. The movie benefits by playing with these grandiose themes on a limited stage: A betrayed younger brother quarreling with his conscience over testifying against the mob-backed boss of the Longshoreman's Union. But in doing so, it tells a story that anyone who has felt fear or frustration within an organization of people can understand--be it a union, a community, a business, or an entire country hijacked by the Republican Party. LOL...I digress.

Marlon Brando famously delivered an exceptional performance and, even when you know exactly what he's going to say in the back of that cab, it is so critical and well delivered that you cant help but feel every word of it. But beyond Brando, every actor eared his or her paycheck on this one, especially Eva Marie Saint (Edie) and Karl Malden (Father Barry). And the writing was excellent. Layers of detail, from fully developed supporting characters, religious and avian symbols, and a plot that barreled forward without letting on where it was going, kept me engaged.

Perhaps this screening was evidence to me that expectation, or the lack thereof, remains a significant contributing factor in one's enjoyment of a film. After all, this is one of my favorite films of the project so far. As is the case, it's with some hesitation, but with full honesty, that I highly recommend popping a bowl of popcorn and sitting back to watch this one. Do it.

Week 5 - Groundhog Day [1993]

The first of many films on my list timed to a holiday, Groundhog Day is perhaps the most unexpected. One, because after two back-to-back heavy films, a comedy from the 90's seems out of place and two, because frankly I should have already seen it! But I haven't, and not only has this film made several "top comedies" lists but at 25 years old (this month!), it's already a "classic"--so here we are!

I loved this movie. Not only because it's funny, and clever, and has heart. But I found myself relating to Bill Murray's character, Phil Connors, for all of the good and bad reasons to do so. He just spoke to me! "What would you do if everyday you were stuck in one place, and nothing you did mattered?" I may not be stuck in a literal time-loop, but Phil's repetition of February 2nd felt allegorically like any other rut I've ever experienced (and I happen to feel like I'm in one, so this viewing was particularly well timed).

With such a simple premise, the story needs to take its time, and in doing so is where it has most of its fun. What would you do in a life without consequence? What would you do with all the time in the world? What would you do to stop the monotony of a life stuck, like a repeating record? And yet, despite knowing the second act of the film could have simply been a gag-reel, Harold Ramis (and his co-writer Danny Ruben) play with these questions to drive purposeful character development (which is expertly played by Bill Murray). To me, the high-point of this sequence--if not the film--is in Phil's failed, repeated attempts to save an elderly homeless man's life. There are some things you just can't change.

I suppose that's a lesson of the film, along with the wisdom to live in the present and to serve others. It is only in doing so that Phil is able to break the loop. It's a poignant, "It's a Wonderful Life"-styled message delivered in a comedic wrapper, typically my favorite type of heart-warming medicine. It reminded me that, for whatever rut I feel, my springtime will eventually come--it might just take an extra 6 weeks. 😂

Week 4 - Gone With the Wind [1939]

Again, this week's film is another terrific example of why I tasked myself with this frivolous assignment to begin with! A 4 hour post-Civil War soap opera is hardly the selection I would typically make, but by committing to a viewing, I found that I actually really liked this movie. And as this is the first film on my list that Cindy has joined me for, she did as well!

Gone With the Wind is pretty much as epic and "classic Hollywood" as youcan get. Vivian Leigh and Clark Gable occupy a space between chewing the scenery and winking at the camera, and yet do so with such commitment to their roles that you can't help falling for their performances. The production design was absolutely gorgeous and over the top. And certainly the special effects (such as the burning of Atlanta) paired with the vivid Technicolor must have had all of the wow-factor of a 1930's Avatar.

The story was fascinating and overly-dense. If I felt that "Lawerence of Arabia" (clocking in at 1 minute longer than GWTW) covered a marathon of a plot, this film was like running around the whole world. In fact, that was perhaps its greatest flaw, an early example of how "including everything in the book" doesn't always make for the strongest movie. The first act is a terrific portrayal of Scarlett's forced maturation upon facing the destructive forces of war. However, film's second act seems to squander all of her character development in favor of furiously hitting various plot-checkpoints like a gamer trying to save his progress.

Ultimately, I was able to look past this and the film's other 1930's flaws (like, erm...the handling of slavery and...I'm pretty sure Scarlett was raped and was totally cool with it) by staying captivated by the film's storytelling techniques and Scarlett and Rhett's tumultuous relationship. All movie long, I kept being drawn to certain choices that I would have otherwise categorized as "modern": elements like the film's pointed use of color (with Scarlett's dress corresponding to her mood or role), some brilliant camera pans and pushes, and of course, the beautiful score being used with drama, precision, and gusto. Finally, while I normally can't stand "old-timey" dialogue, Scarlett and Rhett's witty, verbal-fencing kept me so engaged that by the time Gable plunged forth with the ultimate rebuff--"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!"--I was applauding.

If you have 4 hours and are interested in a completely watchable old-school film, give this one a go!

Week 3 - Raging Bull [1980]

I begin this review by confessing my bias against films in which there is fundamentally no likable or redeeming quality in its main character. I recognize that this doesn't disqualify Raging Bull as a bad film--and at a 95% Fresh rating, Rotten Tomatoes would affirm that--I just didn't enjoy it.

Robert De Niro did such a superb job depicting the bullish, jealous, gluttonous, and at times savage qualities of Jake LaMotta that I found myself never willing to commit a care to the film. This wasn't a rise-and-fall story of a man you're meant to root for--at least, I hope not. The real LaMotta was pretty damaged guy, rapist, and a domestic abuser. And though in the film, LaMotta fell constantly victim to the Mob and the press, this wasn't enough to ever earn my sympathy.

In fact, it is only by looking at Jake's brother, Joey LaMotta (brilliantly played by Joe Pesci), that I was able to avoid growing bored with the film. It was Joey's story I found fascinating: A younger man who held the moral high-ground over his brother (as depicted through some spot on religious imagery) and his attempts to rein in his brother's testosterone-laden, damaged-brain decisions and the cost of his own bad choices.

Again, I suppose I see why this film is heralded as a "modern classic" and Scorsese's 'magnum opus'. And I can handle a tragedy. It just wasn't for me. Ironically, Scorsese then-and-now dislikes boxing (considering it to be boring and brutal) and only found interest in the story when he considered it as "an allegory for whatever you do in life". I suppose I get that it can feel like the world is against you, but still: you don't have to be an ass about it--or a raging bull.

Week 2 - Dr. Strangelove (or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb) [1964]

All I knew about Dr. Strangelove going in is that it's a black comedy about nuclear warfare that features Peter Sellers. And considering the frightful tension of our President getting in twitter-beefs with North Korea, I figured it would play as relevant today as it did in '64. This couldn't be more true.

I *loved* this film. Like other genre-bending films, Dr. Strangelove begins with a rather straight-portrayal of an impending nuclear attack that gradually descends from irony, to character charms, to wit, and finally into slapstick comedy. Using comedy to depict the growing madness of MAD (mutually assured destruction) was a brilliant device and the humor still holds up today (my favorite joke: "You can't fight in here!--this is the War Room!"). This was my first Kubrick film (more to come!) and I am already enthralled.

Peter Sellers was brilliant, not in his exaggeration but in his restraint. Dr. Strangelove was a great dopey character, but my favorite character he played was Group Captain Lionel Mandrake, the stuffy and proper British officer (but moral center), whose polite attempts to subvert the apocalypse had me giggling. I also thought George Scott and Slim Pickins were great and it was neat to see James Earl Jones in the bombing galley of the B-52 (as opposed to hearing him in a TIE Fighter).

Like I mentioned, this film remains tremendously relevant some 54 years later. Naturally, it's a reminder that for all the safeguards in place to prevent nuclear war, both human and automated, the apocalypse is just a few steps away. There's also the damaging effects of nationalist, conspiracy laden rhetoric, littered in today's #fakenews cycle--General Ripper, the idiot who placed the path to war in motion, did so under a conspiracy theory of the effects that water fluoridation had on the purity of God-fearing, capitalist bodies. Finally, the film is full of sexually-charged men in positions of power, orchestrating the end of the world. In a world where our loon of a President brags about 'how big his nuke button is', the film's innuendos felt hardly satirical.

I can't recommend this one enough!