Week 9; Film 61 - Scarface [1983]

“Scarface” is the story of Tony Montana (Al Pacino), Cuban refugee and ex-convict, and his rise and fall in the cocaine trade. Tony is a brazen, murderous, opportunistic risk-taker of a man who finds himself doubling down on his life’s gains —until he loses. From refugee, to dishwasher, to errand boy, to the muscle for a prominent drug dealer, the first half of the film focuses on Tony’s meteoric rise. In act two he gambles, biting the hand that feeds and ousting his patron in order to head up his own empire. Though unrestrained and undisciplined, he hits a moral breaking point that sets into effect his ultimate downfall. But not, of course, before a daring last stand (and one of film’s most famous lines: “SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!”).

I loved this film; I hated this film. I honestly don’t know where to land on this one. In the plus column was Pacino’s terrifyingly sharp performance (although, I don’t know if I bought the accent). And then, of course, there’s the brilliant camera-work which purposefully, kinetically, and stylistically drove the film forward even when we spent too long in one place. In the minus column was the plot’s construction and pacing, spending a great deal of time showing Tony’s rise and then squeezing in his paranoia-laden fall. It even resorted to a bad 80’s montage to tell part of this story. Speaking of which, this film remains dated to the 80s in a way that makes it not hold up as well as you think it does.

I guess, despite a clear character story, I kept asking myself, “What is this movie saying?”. That drug dealing is bad? That unrestrained ambition will build you and yet break you? That superior capitalists are successful at masking their domineering, evil instincts? Does a movie even need to say something; or is it sufficient to simply enjoy a film as a badass, anti-establishment, gun-porn flick? For me, I feel like I can appreciate the film on all of these levels but ultimately believe this story has been told before, since, and better.

Week 8; Film 60 - 12 Angry Men [1957]

“12 Angry Men” is the classic portrayal of a jury’s heated deliberation at the conclusion of a murder trial. The film is a masterpiece of minimal scope, taking place almost entirely in one room and with 12 nameless characters. With an opening vote of 11 to 1 in favor of declaring guilt, Juror 8 (played by Henry Fonda) pleads his doubt to the room. From this point on, the man struggles to build consensus among competing personalities, biases, and baggage.

This film is both small and yet ambitious. Though starting with a simple premise, 12 fully formed characters emerge (minus names), complete with their own developed backstories and competing motivations. The conversation that ensued between them was dramatic, thrilling, and weaved naturally back and forth between contrasting ideas like a tennis match. Touching on poverty, ethnicity, and societal violence, this film remains relevant 61 years later. In fact, the most powerful moment for me was the united and defiant stand of each juror when Juror 10 tore into a prejudice rant. No good people on both sides, here.

While I feared that the film’s one room set would plague the flick with the lack of dimensionality I typically sense from stage play adaptations, it didn’t. This is thanks in tremendous part to Boris Kaufman’s cinematography. The way the camera moved purposefully throughout the room, at times portraying distance and at times emphasizing claustrophobic closeness was brilliant. It was a first rate example of what can be accomplished in this medium, even in less showy or effects-driven movies.

I adore that (according to Wikipedia) Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor nostalgically refers to this film as an influence on her decision to pursue law. I also love that she instructs juries to not follow Fonda’s example, pointing out that his outside research, assumptions, and speculation is cause for a mistrial. LOL. But, I am still endeared to his depiction of how much courage, grit, and actual sweat that it sometimes takes to change another person's mind. It’s a brilliant example and one which I hope to reflect on as this tumultuous and divisive year continues. Great movie.

Week 7; Film 59 - Sleepless in Seattle [1993]

If you’ve been reading along, you might recall that last year, I absolutely fell in love with “When Harry Met Sally”. I adored how effortlessly Nora Ephron’s script stitched together two friends on a pathway to free-range, 100% USDA-organic love. So you would imagine how excited I was to make Ephron’s next screenplay, and second directorial outing, this year’s Valentine’s Day film. Sadly, this film will not get a second date.

“Sleepless in Seattle” is a story about father Sam Baldwin (Tom Hanks) who loses his wife and moves to Seattle to grieve/hit reset on life. After some time, his son calls into a national, Dr. Laura-esque radio show wishing to find his dad a new wife. On the other side of the country in Baltimore, Annie Reed (Meg Ryan) hears Sam speak about his wife and is heartbroken—but strangely attracted? Cue unlikely event after unlikely event, from Annie (who is engaged BTW) flying to Seattle to just see if just maybe Sam matches the Sam in her fantasy to Sam’s 8 year old son Jonah booking his own plane ticket to look for Annie in New York. Barf!

If the formula of “When Harry Met Sally” was to immediately introduce our characters and let love grow over the full film runtime, this film took the opposite approach. This is a romantic comedy in which our main characters don’t share a scene until 2/3 the way through, don’t speak until 4/5 the way in, and don’t touch until over 11/12 of the way into the film’s runtime. Seriously. I get trying to be different than your last outing, but this film effectively neuters what made "WHMS" so real and enticing. Throw in the five or six unbelievable plot points required to stitch this story together and you have me lost.

That’s not to say the film was a waste, it was just unconvincing; it felt like it was avoiding the “obvious” and instead skewed “unbelievable”. Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan are still charming “AF” and Hanks’ scenes with fellow buddy/bro Rob Reiner were a film highlight for me. Ephron’s writing shines when people are together, talking to one another and we got see this numerous times, just not with our two principals. This film allowed me to laugh, and hope, and ponder—do just about everything but fall in love.

Week 6; Film 58 - The Bridge on the River Kwai [1957]

“The Bridge on the River Kwai” opens with British POWs being marched into a WWII Japanese detention camp where they are told they must build a bridge over—you guessed it—the River Kwai. The first act is all about contrasting the British against the Japanese as men of principle. When the British officers (led by Lieutenant Colonel Nicholson) refuse to perform manual labor (in accordance with the Geneva Convention), Japanese Colonel Saito punishes the officers by locking them in iron boxes. Meanwhile, American Navy-man Shears escapes the camp, is rescued by the locals, and makes it to safety.

In the second act, the film begins to shift when Saito eases up on Nicholson. Nicholson, played frustratingly well by Obi Wan.0 Alec Guinness, notices a lack of discipline and poor morale among his men. Thus, he decides that actually building a bridge, with all of their British industriousness, was the fix. This obsession with principle and excellence ends up assisting the Japanese and reaches a boiling point when, upon the arrival of a sabotage party (containing Shears), Nicholson defends the bridge from destruction. However, eventually awakened and remorseful of his involvement, Nicholson’s dying act is to help the bridge be destroyed.

There are ways in which I didn’t care for this film. The film is long, the plot is simple, and the B-plot (in which Shears flirts in a military hospital and is roped into returning to the camp) is jarringly out of tone. And I don’t know if I’m meant to look at Nicholson’s refusal to do manual labor as brave and principled or as idiotic and selfish (at one point, he risks the lives of his officers and his sick men). Not exactly the “servant leader”, by today’s standards. Finally, this 62 year old film plays with race and 'Western superiority' in uncomfortable ways.

Still, in a testament to the movie's layers, I think I came out mostly liking this film. The CinemaScope cinematography was beautiful, with the film's stunning color shots carefully framed with cunning depth. I love the way the film toyed with your expectations and I did learn to like the contrast between Nicholson’s caricaturish traits and complicated, evolving motives. Finally, by the film’s end I was genuinely feeling the tension of the moment and the final explosion was a rather impressive cinematic visual. The film manages to wrap up some rather complex themes of human nature in a chest-beating war movie exterior fit for Ron Swanson himself.

Week 5; Film 57 - Heat [1995]

“Heat” made my list for being an impactful ‘90s film by Michael Mann and, famously, the first movie to feature a scene with Al Pacino and Robert De Niro together. Truthfully, I just wanted to watch it and this project served as a great excuse! For those unfamiliar with the flick, “Heat” couples a heist movie with a classic cat-and-mouse detective film. It was a pretty fresh take on a classic story and a lot of fun.

The movie pits two teams (De Niro’s heist crew and Pacino’s LAPD squad) against one another and is anchored around three brilliantly directed heist moments—a thrilling armored vehicle attack, a foiled bank robbery, and a sloppy, prolonged, revenge-fueled getaway. It was heart-pounding fun and there’s a lot that I loved about this film. Writer/Director Michael Mann absolutely paints with tension and the characters felt gritty and layered, as did the universe they inhabited. Of course, it was a real delight to see Pacino and De Niro bounce off of one another and the supporting Cast kept my interest at all times.

In fact, I’d probably consider the film perfect if not for a few superfluous story elements and hard to believe moments. Though great world building, the million small character arcs were occasionally hard to follow or unsatisfying. And for however great it was to see Pacino and De Niro on screen together, the way the meeting was arranged felt crazy-unbelievable. Throw in a hostage-situation head shot and a prolonged airport chase scene and my disbelief was reengaged, at times. Finally, the bank scene’s parallels with the North Hollywood shootout was so uncanny that it almost didn’t feel great (a dialogue tied to this film ever since it happened).

Still, between the excellent performances, thrilling sequences, and gritty LA-vistas, “Heat” has become one of my favorite films in the genre. Its influence on films to follow is undeniable, including one of my favorite film opening scenes of all time, the bank heist in “The Dark Knight”. Nolan’s opening bank robbery scene felt right out of this film, from the ratcheting tension to bank manager William Fichtner. Anything that can influence cinema that good and still hold its own against it is worth a watch and worth its praise.

Week 4; Film 56 - Cleopatra [1963]

In the early ’60’s, film studios must have started to feel up against the ropes. Television was growing in popularity and the wide adoption of color TV was around the corner. Perhaps if film were to remain relevant, it would need to play to its strengths—grow more elaborate, more epic, more sexy, more expensive, and more of a spectacle than ever before. Enter “Cleopatra”, one of the most expensive films ever made and the only #1 film in a year to run a financial loss!

"Cleopatra" is a simple story expanded into 4 hours of run time. In hour one, Caesar (Rex Harrison) arrives in Alexandria, navigates Egyptian royal in-fighting, thwarts an attack, and places Cleopatra (the beautiful Elizabeth Taylor) in charge. In hour two, Cleopatra seduces Caesar, bears him a son, and brings C.J. to Rome in a large parade. Meanwhile, Caesar grows more power-hungry and plots to become Emperor of Rome but is assassinated. INTERMISSION. In hour three, Mark Antony (Richard Burton, fresh in a spicy affair with Liz Taylor in real life) and Cleopatra meet and fall in love. Antony then marries for politics in Rome, returns to an angry-but-softening Cleopatra, and together they war against Rome. In hour four, Antony faces Rome (led by Octavian) at sea and loses. Octavian gives chase and our two remaining leads die.

I started on this film’s side. Though leery of the movie’s “56% Rotten” score, I eventually grew to enjoy the first act. Cleopatra was smart, devious, and sexy and Caesar was determined, disciplined, and ailing. This made for an interesting mash up/character study and, while long, a mismatched love story. But by the time we get to Act 2, the film collapses. After spending hours convincing us of Caesar and Cleopatra’s love, we are meant to accept her and Antony’s feelings after a mere meeting. The film then bases every other bad decision on this unconvincing romance and does so with a particularly exhausting and melodramatic drawl.

It is ironic to me that such a spectacle directly addressed the limitations of television and yet suffered from the limitations of film. This movie is unforgivably long and yet the story feels as though it was not given enough time to truly breathe. In fact (by today’s standards), one way to fix this shoehorned story would be to expand it into a 10-hour, 10-part television show. Seriously, it felt like an HBO series that wasn’t given its due. In the same way “Avatar” championed 3D tech to stay ahead of HD TV, “Cleopatra” was an interesting, colorful, sexual, and expansive epic but lacked enough plot-substance to sustain its runtime.

Week 3; Film 55 - Amélie [2001]

After one year and two weeks of screening through American films, I am finally branching myself across the sea! I’m sure there’s a segment of my film-enamored friends who are annoyed that I’m starting a tour of international classics with “Amélie”, a rather popular and modern French film. There’s also another bunch of my friends who have mentioned loving this film and so I thought I’d go in for them. The story wanders a bit and only "finds" itself by act three, but I’m going to give my best summary a go—

“Amélie” is the story about a quirky, introverted woman who learns that she enjoys concocting complex schemes to influence the lives of those around her. Through these schemes she meets Raymond Dufayel, a frail artist who locks up in his apartment paints a copy of Renoir’s “Luncheon of the Boating Party”, every year. Together, the unlikely pair analyze the lone woman drinking in the center of the portrait, their analysis serving as a proxy for assessing Amélie’s own life. Through these conversations, Amélie realizes that her scheming is a way of avoiding acting on young love she feels for an equally quirky man, Nino Quincampoix. After a cat-and-mouse game of near-meetings around Paris, the two meet and realize their love is real. Amélie is finally happy.

I adored everything about this film; it was perfect to me. It lives in the same naive plane where all romantic comedies do (in which the bustling, frenetic city of Paris feels more like a countryside village) but is richer and more complex for how it mixes in humor (oftentimes very dark humor) and innocent wonder. The characters lived between simple caricatures and complex creatures and the story’s many layers grew away from the film’s center and then coalesced with purpose and grace. And other than the film’s oversaturated yellow hue, I loved the film’s zippy pace and set/costuming’s colorful design.

I could make up an analysis of the film's unique camerawork or casual depiction of sex as being some "French thing", but I wont. I have immediately realized that it’s kind of a fool’s errand to screen foreign films and expect some sort of understanding of that country. I watched 52 American films last year and still wouldn't admit to "understanding" American storytelling. A small handful of French, Japanese, British, Russian, or Italian films isn’t going to get me anywhere for those places, either. But these movies will build on the human story and experience that is emerging through the films I’ve watched (and from a unique perspective, no less). In this way, “Amélie” has delivered a message about courage, kindness, and love that I desperately needed at this moment. If other films on my list are half as good at being medicine for my mind, then I can't wait for more.

Week 2; Film 54 - Modern Times [1936]

As I reminisced on last year’s film list, one of the things that screamed out to me was the absence of silent films. The first 34 years of film was projected without synchronized sound and yet I watched nothing from the era. I aimed to rectify that on this year’s list and figured it made sense to start with Chaplin! “Modern Times” features Charlie Chaplin’s last go as his famous “The Tramp” character (big shoes, suit, bowler cap, toothbrush mustache—you know the one). What’s interesting is that it was released as a mostly-silent film well into the era of the “talkie”. However, Chaplin believed the allure of the character was tied to his silence and thus chose to keep him (mostly) so.

“Modern Times” is a story about the challenges of getting ahead in the industrialized, depression era. “The Tramp” is employed as a factory worker and is subject to various indignities in the name of efficiency on the assembly line. He has a “nervous breakdown” and is hospitalized, released, and after a wrong-place-wrong-time moment, jailed. He gets out on good behavior, meets “The Gamin” (the female lead, the beautiful Paulette Goddard) and they fall in love. Together, they try to get ahead in life, working a serious of odd jobs—none effectively working out for one reason or another.

I loved this movie! I immediately found The Tramp to be a lovable, curious, and endearing character. The film is mostly composed as a series of comedic bits that could stand alone as brilliant sketch comedy: The Tramp is force-fed by a malfunctioning automated lunch feeder; The Tramp accidentally consumes cocaine he mistook for salt and goes bonkers (LOL...seriously!); The Tramp movies in with The Gamin into a dilapidated shack that is falling apart on top of him; The Tramp is trying to serve an angry patron food while caught up in a 30’s era flash mob—the list goes on and on, and they’re all pretty great.

For being a silent film, the movie actually says quite a bit about life in depression-era America and of working as a (literal) cog in a capitalist society. Clocks are a reoccurring theme throughout the film (the opening title cards are over one) and the role they play in regulating one’s life on industrial time. The film reminded me of Wall·E, not only for non-speaking characters but because this film took factory labor as far as Wall·E took consumerism—to extremes we laugh at but are silently discomforted by. The film manages to find comedy in the pure insanity of the system and the characters’ failure to advance despite all of their (mostly) honest and best efforts. 83 years later and I think this film would really resonate with the Millennial generation in uncomfortably palpable ways. Seriously, if you can manage a silent film, this is worth a watch!

Week 1; Film 53 - The Good, the Bad and the Ugly [1966/67]

Happy new year!—I have picked 52 brand new-to-me movies for 2019! When tasked with organizing them, I sort of thematically matched them to last year’s list as I enjoyed the modulation of my genre-hopping. I figured a Clint Eastwood western would sort of parallel last year’s opener, “Lawrence of Arabia”, with each film being a classic, desert-epic with brooding, confident men staring into the distance. As I now know, their similarities end there, but in all the best ways!

“The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” is a Spaghetti Western that takes place during the American Civil War. In it, after the characters have been introduced, the Bad reveals he’s on a quest for a $200,000 cache of Confederate gold, killing for information on its whereabouts. Meanwhile, The Good meets the Ugly, a wanted man, and they team up to scam frontier towns. However, the Good betrays the Ugly, who then catches up to the Good to kill him—that is until they each learn about the gold. Fascinatingly, they both learn a separate fact about the gold’s location, and need each other to find it, so a tenuous truce is formed. They are in route to the treasure until they are captured by the Bad, escape, become trapped by a bridge battle, explosively subdue that battle, and then arrive at the gold’s location—just as the Bad does. *cue Mexican standoff*

What a whirlwind and a great way to start this year! Though my synopsis betrays the film’s epic ness, trust me when I say I loved this film. From Eastwood’s classic, stone-faced delivery to the stellar action sequences, occasional hilarity, character developing micro-acts, and carefully constructed tension, this film was great. Sergio Leone and cinematographer Toninio Delli Colli’s use of the frame was both beautiful and surprising, often playing with audience expectations. And Ennio Morricone’s score was one of the best and most impactful film scores I’ve heard during this project, rousing me like no music has since “2001”. I’ve heard it my whole life and never knew it connected to this film.

Sadly, it wasn’t until after I watched “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” that I learned it is officially-not-officially part three in a trilogy (the “Dollars Trilogy” or “The Man With No Name Trilogy”). I wish I could have dissected them in order but they don’t seem to really lean on each other, so it was ok. Other than that, and the pretty bad dubbing over Italian actors, this film was practically perfect. It was a great introduction to 2019 and, like the conclusion of the film, pure gold.

Week 52 - Citizen Kane [1941]

Well, here we are—the end of the year! Week 52 out of 52! To conclude this year’s film appreciation resolution, I thought it would be most fitting watch the ‘greatest film of all time’, “Citizen Kane”. My not-so-secret secret is I actually have seen this film before, 10 years ago in a film study class. However, I remembered very little of it, so I figured it still made sense to cap my list of “influential and culturally significant American films” with a viewing.

“Citizen Kane” is the biopic of the fictional Charles Foster Kane, a character based on several wealthy magnates (most significantly and famously being William Randolph Hearst). The film begins with a news reel announcing Kane’s death and then cuts to a reporter tasked to understand the significance behind Kane’s final utterance: “Rosebud.” The reporter makes his way to various individuals from Kane’s life, all who tell a more personal and detailed version of Kane’s dramatic rise and fall in financial, political, and romantic arenas.

I don’t have a hot take on this film. Everything that could be said about “Citizen Kane” has already been written. Hell, even the film’s Wikipedia page clocks in at over 18,000 words (11,000 more than year-opener film “Lawrence of Arabia”). Some folks herald the film for its influential narrative structure, cinematography, and film making techniques. Others have come to view it as boring, meandering, and view its contributions to the form as overstated, or worse, flat out stolen. Still, all of the baggage of legacy aside, I really enjoyed “Citizen Kane”. The film is a uniquely American story and remains as relevant as ever. Kane reminds me of Richard Branson, Rupert Murdoch, or even Trump himself, pulling back the curtain on what is so charming and dangerous about men like them.

Is “Citizen Kane” the best film of all time? I don’t know—is it really possible to pick any film for ‘best ever’? But I do believe that “Citizen Kane” is a perfectly told story about a search for meaning in one man’s life. It continues to challenge viewers to consider what is true, what is valuable, and what is important in life. It was a wonderful way to conclude the year.

Thank you for reading. ☺️

Week 51 - Holiday Inn [1942]

I actually really enjoyed the premise and delivery of “Holiday Inn”. Jim Hardy (Bing Crosby), a singer, is engaged to performer Lila and set to quit stage performance when dancer Ted Hanover (Fred Astaire) convinces Lila to stay with him to dance and romance. Jim takes this rather well and leaves solo to become a farmer, hoping to get “holidays off” for once. But after a miserable, full 365-days of farming, Jim gets the idea to convert the farm into an inn (with dining and entertainment) and work *exclusively* on holidays—as 15 days of heavy business could provide for the whole year. He hires Linda Mason (Marjorie Reynolds) to perform with him and they start to fall in love when—uh oh—a freshly dumped Ted sees the potential to steal Linda for his dance and, you guessed it, romance.

I thought this movie rather brilliantly used character, music, and the holidays to tell a unique version of the classic love-triangle story. The film progressed from holiday-to-holiday like chapters in a book, using themes from that holiday to accentuate the character drama (Valentine’s Day = romance; Independence Day = fireworks/aggression; Thanksgiving = feigned thankfulness, etc.). I really liked Bing Crosby’s character and I appreciated that there was time when hard work once meant ‘providing for yourself with as little effort as possible’, rather than with endless toil. The script is still funny and the dances, usually what I care least about, had clever quirks to keep me interested (a slow dance is unexpectedly sped up; fireworks are used at a dancer’s feet).

In case I’ve sold you on this movie, I do find it necessary to point out that this film IS a product of its time. There are moments that this is neat, such as during the propaganda-laden Independence Day sequence. The attack on Pearl Harbor occurred during this film’s production and so producers spliced-in a chest-beating film roll depicting America’s military strength. Conversely, there’s a rather cringe-inducing blackface sequence during Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. Like, really bad. Like, the film emphasizes the blackface, several times, and it takes place in front of Ted’s African American maid and her kids. It reminds you how tame “Baby It’s Cold Outside” actually is.

Still, the history-fan in me believes that, with a disapproving preface and disclaimer, it’s important to watch the unedited version of this film and understand the history of casual racism in America. There’s a lot of things we got wrong back then—including the chrysotile asbestos used by the production used to mimic snow. This is all apart of the film’s legacy, a legacy that includes everything from the introduction of the song “White Christmas” to the source of the name for the Holiday Inn hotel chain. In all of these ways, this film is deeply interwoven in our culture, warts and all, and worthy of its place on my list.

Week 50 - A Christmas Story [1982]

Airing for days at a time during the holidays, it’s a shocker that I’ve never seen “A Christmas Story” all the way through. Naturally, I’ve seen bits and pieces—a tongue frozen to a pole here, a leg-lamp there. But I did not grow up with this film as a part of our Christmas-tradition rotation and so can’t say I even knew what it was about. Ends up, that was probably ok. Trigger warning if this film is special to you: This movie is lame.

“A Christmas Story” is a movie about Ralph Parker and his singular goal of getting a Red Ryder Carbine Action 200-shot Range Model air rifle for Christmas. As all of the adult, authority-figure characters around him are concerned he’ll “shoot [his] eye out”, a bit of clever strategy is required on Ralphie’s part to ask for the gift in just the right way. The story is buttressed by a bunch of other anecdotes of Christmastime in the ‘40s: a friend getting his tongue stuck to a pole, living with the neighborhood bullies, getting punished for cursing, dad fighting with the furnace, mom fighting with dad over a leg-lamp, etc. And that’s about it.

The whole thing is basically “Nostalgia, The Movie”. Which I guess works if you have nostalgia for the 40’s OR if you grew up watching the film and are nostalgic for it. As I fit into neither camp, I found the film to be boring. Like the “Goonies” or other overrated ‘it’s fun because the kids yell and curse’ stories, I could not deal with how whiney everyone was. The plot wasn’t that interesting and the extra anecdotes were about as organized and purposeful as an episode of “Family Guy”.

I suppose the film does a good job of capturing what it was like to be a kid want a specific present. My one chuckle was between the tossing aside of gifted socks and having to wear the bunny suit on Christmas morning—every kid I grew up with remembers getting things he/she didn’t want or having to pretend to like something for another family member. Hell, I probably still do it. But that fun Christmas morning sequence wasn’t enough to save this rose-colored, uninteresting story. If I want to see an adult-narrated nostalgia fest for a time that didn't really exist, I'll put on "The Sandlot."

Week 49 - Die Hard [1988]

So, “Die Hard” is legit one of the reasons why I embarked on this year’s cinematic journey. It was about this time last year when I heard everybody having the classic debate (“Is ‘Die Hard’ a Christmas movie?”) and I had to bow my head with the shameful shyness of a student hoping to not be called on. I hadn’t seen “Die Hard”, or D’Hard as it’s come to be known around our house, so I packed 51 films around it and here we are. Now that I've seen “Die Hard”, I must say—yes it's a Christmas movie, and a damn brilliant one at that!

Die Hard is about John McClane (played by greedy and lazy Bruce Willis, of course), NYPD detective and estranged husband/father, arriving in Los Angeles to reconcile with his wife Holly. He heads directly from LAX to the Nakatomi Tower where he hopes to run into Holly at her company’s Christmas party. That is, until German terrorist Hans Gruber (played brilliantly by the loved, late Alan Rickman) shows up. Gruber and his goons take the entire party hostage and get to work on cracking the company’s central safe when McClane begins subverting their plan, offing Gruber’s men one by one. Gruber repels police attacks but can’t manage to swat away fly-in-the-ointment McClane, who chips away at Gruber’s plan until it’s just Gruber, him, and a scotch-taped gun. Of course, McClain saves the day.

“Die Hard” could have easily been a stupid movie, but it somehow manages to comment on and enhance the action genre, while being endlessly fun. The film exists in a universe of action films (with references to Rambo, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and the old westerns of Roy Rogers) and relishes in our American brashness and propensity for making things up as we go along (in contrast to Gruber’s exacting German strategy). I thought the film did a great job of developing McClain as a real-enough person and balanced his unnaturally good fighting skills by forcing him to operate with bare feet—as a mere man. I thought the John/Al radio relationship was better than the whole of “Lethal Weapon” and I loved the use of “Ode to Joy” throughout the film.

I’m sure the fact that I adored this film while shitting on the likes of "The Deer Hunter" or "Raging Bull" has something to do with my maturity, but I’d argue that I’m just responding to a well told story. With the exception of the “chief and federal cops were stupid while local and front-line cops were smart” trope, I thought the characters were freshly conceived and well developed. The film was fun and funny entertainment and right up my alley. I immediately recognized that this film holds up. Oh, and I finally understand why every-other action movie is referred to as “Die Hard on a ______.”

Week 48 - Taxi Driver [1976]

With my mixed reactions to Martin Scorsese and to Robert De Niro, I went into Taxi Driver with a bit of suspicion. Then, when the film started and I realized it’s something of a film noir piece (evident by the dreary night scenes and saxophone), I rolled my eyes with annoyance as film noir is one of my least favorite genres. But as the film rolled, I found myself realizing, scene by scene, that I was NOT hating it. And by the end of the film I wascaught off guard with my surprise: I really liked this film!

Taxi Driver follows 26 year old Travis Bickle, played by De Niro, as he distracts himself with his taxi-driving job. Initially straight-edge, quirky, and a bit of a loner, we find Bickle’s naiveté endearing until he accidentally takes his date Betsy to a porno. For this she dumps him and we begin to turn against him a bit, realizing that he’s a bit mentally ill and (by modern day standards) something of an incel. It’s at this point that he descends into depression and obtains black market guns with the plan of assassinating presidential candidate Charles Palantine (the candidate Betsy volunteered for). During this time, he encounters Iris, a—get this—12 YEAR OLD prostitute (played by a young Jodi Foster) and develops a harmless friendship with her. The film’s climax has Bickle trying, and failing, to murder Palantine. Licking his wounds, he enters a shootout with Iris’s pimp and predators and the epilogue depicts Bickle as a hero for saving Iris.

Weird, I know. And yet in this film is a stark realization about how thin the line between insane destructiveness and valiant heroic potential can be in a person. I thought it was fascinating how Bickle began as a man who has the trust of the audience and then loses it (at one point, exemplified brilliantly when the camera literally gives up on filming him and moves away; covered in a great CineFix list). We realize that he’s a sick man but can’t stop watching out of curiosity and dread. When he saves Iris, only we know the twisted irony that this local hero might have been a national villain.

Some folks refer to Taxi Driver as an anti-hero tale but I think anti-villain is just as appropriate. Then again, it doesn’t really matter how you define it, it’s a story that obliterates character norms and the patterns of good and evil in a character. I found this delightful. Throw in a score I eventually learned to love (Bernard Herrmann's last), some great performances, and classic lines (“Are you talkin to me? Are YOU talkin to me?”) and you had a surprise last minute entry on this year’s list!

Anyway, this will weirdly do it for non-themed films for 2018! We have just four more weeks to the year’s end and to celebrate, I will be watching Christmas themed films. Catch me next week for that!

Week 47 - Close Encounters of the Third Kind [1977]

I wanted to use this year‘s project to visit the work of famous filmmakers. I of course explored Kubrick, and Coppola, and Hitchcock, and Scorsese; their art is certainly famous and influential. But I wanted to make sure that I somehow visited the blockbuster king and my very first favorite director: Steven Spielberg. I’ve see a lot of his filmography but somehow managed to miss his science fiction classic “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”. On this, the month of its 41st anniversary, I finally had reason to encounter this film (*hears groans*)!

“Close Encounters” is a simple ‘first contact’ story, larger in scale than “E.T.” but smaller than “Independence Day” (with 100% less carnage). The film starts with a series of abnormal ‘encounters’—missing aircraft show up, planes almost crash with an object, and strange electrical activity is occurring. Electric utility worker Roy Neary (Richard Dreyfuss) is dispatched to repair a power line when he witnesses his first UFOs. Like others who witness them, he is mesmerized and in awe. What begins as simply defending his observation turns into obsession as he begins searching for UFOs and crafting a rocky plateau from visions in his head. Eventually realizing the rock was Devil’s Tower in Wyoming, he books it there in time to witness the government make contact with a series of UFOs. The common language between the species?—music. With all distracted in astonishment, Roy makes it down to the welcome wagon and makes contact himself.

I adored this film. It’s a simple “first date” between two forms of higher-intelligence and I thought it was really refreshing to have an alien movie that didn’t have war or invasive scientists with poor judgment. I loved how Spielberg explored the theme of communication, turning mathematics into music (through an often French-speaking main, no less). I loved the progression towards the encounter and I loved the nods to “2001”. As someone who loves the “Spielberg face” shot— a pan towards a character’s face as he/she reacts in awe—this film has one every 5 minutes. Oh, and I never tired of the music—ba, daa, dah, duh, daaaaaaa!!!!

For as much as I enjoyed the movie, my biggest critique is that it wasn’t “E.T.”! I know that seems unfair and strange but I think the opinion stands because Spielberg directed both. “E.T.” borrows themes, designs, and sequences from “Close Encounters” and manages to be a superior film—more refined, personal, and meaningful. I also thought the film’s pacing was purposeful but slow and the final act that doesn’t offer much in the form of action (just characters staring at the majesty of it all for 30 minutes). Still, despite my love of “E.T.” I found myself enjoying this film fully. From the performances, to the effects, to the music, I think “Close Encounters” deserves its place on the science fiction reel of classics!

Week 46 - The Deer Hunter [1978]

“The Deer Hunter” is the third of three films about the Vietnam War on my screening list this year and I must admit that I haven’t had the best luck getting into this sub-genre. I found myself liking “Apocalypse Now!” enough for its epicness and just tolerated the dreary slog through “Platoon”, so I was looking to this flick to redeem the genre. It didn’t. I again find myself in a difficult interpretive position—how should I rate a film that has clear cinematic victories but that I could not stand to watch?

The movie opens with beautiful shots of Clairton, a gritty steel town in Pennsylvania. As we meet the characters, Director Michael Cimino contrasts their somewhat bleak industrial landscape with the characters’ joy of preparing for and celebrating a large Russian Orthodox wedding ceremony (ironic, and the first in a long list of contrasting imagery). This introduction goes on for nearly ONE HOUR. Seriously. I’m all for world building and character development, but this sequence makes Peter Jackson look conservative in the editing bay. The sequence finishes with a deer hunt before three of the guys prepare to ship off to Vietnam.

Act two then cuts to the war, where our boys are captured by the NVA troops. This is where the film’s most famous and challenging scenes are: Imprisoned in soul-crushing conditions, the POWs are forced to play a game of Russian Roulette by their cartoonishly evil North Vietnamese captors. This dramatic and heartbreaking scene is a brilliantly acted, somewhat on-the-nose metaphor for the low-value of life and randomness of death. The movie then returns to America where you get to see how each of the guys has been affected—mentally, physically, and emotionally—by their experience. We learn that De Niro’s Mike Vronsky no longer has his same zen-like passion for killing (deer). We also learn that Walken’s Nick Chevotarevich has been drugged and traumatized beyond recognition when Vronsky returns to Vietnam and casually searches for his friend DURING the fall of Saigon (officially where the film lost me).

Upon its release, “The Deer Hunter” was considered to be the best American epic since “The Godfather.” And I gotta admit, it has an epic scope, ambitious story, beautiful cinematography, full character arcs, excellent performances, and contains real deep, arty metaphors about the human condition. But unlike “The Godfather”, this film is hardly fascinating. It’s boring, and dreary, and self-important, and insincere, and incredulous. After 80 minutes of meandering around, the film relies on the intensity of a Russian Roulette scene to build tension and shock the audience. The film revisits this fatal game two more times, which is pretty exhaustive for an activity that has no evidence of actually occurring during the Vietnam War. Many forgive the film for this under the guise of artistic discretion; I couldn't believe it enough to do so.

Still, I think that “The Deer Hunter” is an excellent short film about two friends trapped in a game of Russian Roulette—surrounded by 165 minutes of drab fluff.

Week 45 - Animal House [1978]

Comedy films were hard to include on this list because what a person finds funny can be specific and tied to a moment in time. But I wanted to include a few of the “classics” from a variety of eras and landed on a few films, “Animal House” being one of them. And, at the risk of catching a lot of shit for this because I know it's popular, I honestly thought it was just ok.


Functioning as a series of skits stitched together (the famous toga partycould practically be its own short-film), I’m not sure a plot recap is worth it, but here it goes: Two college freshmen seeking admission to a fraternity end up at Delta Tau Chi, a rambunctious mess of a frat full of alcoholic students (although most seem to avoid school). As a result of their poor academic performance and a series of conduct policy violations, the frat is then placed on “double-secret probation” but the clan continues to drink and screw. This leads to the revocation of the Delta’s charter—which leads to more craziness—which leads to their expulsion—which leads to a zany finale in which the frat guys fight back in their own way.

At its best, “Animal House” is a hilarious and subversive movie about pushing back against out of touch authority figures. From the principal, to the ROTC/drill sergeant guy, the mayor, other frat leaders, bullies, Delta brothers had to, and did, deal with each in their own fun way. I loved the films commitment to gags and reoccurring laughs, such as the accidental horse death or the golf ball in the soup. And the film was super fun in many scenes (my favorite being the “Shout” sequence during the toga party).

But I think that in many ways, the film is showing its age in ways I can’t ignore. Never-mind the chat about if fraternities are even relevant to today's college experience, there was a ton of jokes and premises that don’t play in 2018, such as the large gag around stealing copy-film out of the trash to cheat on a test. And finally, not trying to be an unfun snowflake, but the ‘getting girls drunk so they’ll finally have sex with you’ motif that ran through out the ENTIRE film felt indelicate and cringey by today's standards. But in short, the story just meandered around skits. With no characters you’re meant to care about in a serious way, when skits don’t land, the movie doesn’t.

Week 44 - Casablanca [1942]

As I predicted, these reviews have immediately become harder to complete with a new baby at home!!! 😆😑😴 This review was an additional challenge because—and I know the film is dear to a lot of people, so I want to tread lightly, but—I just didn’t click with this flick.

"Casablanca" is the classic-Hollywood story about Rick Blaine, an ex-pat club owner who set up shop in Casablanca, Morocco. The Casablanca in the film is full of French refugees fleeing Nazi domination but Rick is somewhat indifferent to their plight, preferring the economic security of neutrality. It’s in that moment that his ex-love Ilsa came walking through his door. Ilsa pleads for Rick’s help saving her husband Victor, a resistance leader, but Rick’s heartbreak and preference towards safe-gambles keeps him distant. It’s in this way that the film works on two levels: At a macro level, the film is about keeping resistance alive when backed into a corner. At the micro level, the film is about a once heartbroken man who, when faced by his former lover, is required to work up the courage to care about something again.

Now, there’s plenty that I like about this film. I think the subject matter (refugee crisis and an indifferent America) is incredibly relevant in today’s news cycle. I also liked how the film used personal relationships to tell a larger story about World War II. In a sense the war plays out, not militarily, but through the choices of each individual character. Rick quite literally represents pre-War America: a man out to make a buck from anyone who will give it without declaring a side in the escalating conflict. His balancing-act of a character’s journey (indeed, the balancing act the film plays as a whole) was an impressive literary feat.

However, for all of the film’s cleverness, classic lines, and famous theme song (now the Warner Bro.'s TV tag-theme!) the film wasn’t exactly my type. As I felt with “A Streetcar Named Desire”, adapting stage plays into movies can feel a bit 'flat' to me and the melodramatic acting just contributed to the feeling that I was watching a play. The story felt too convenient, coincidental, and the characters simply didn’t feel real to me. Maybe it's because I once broke down on the Great Movie Ride during the "Casablanca scene" and I'm harboring bad feelings...I don’t know, but I'll have to give this another shot one day!

Week 43 - Halloween [1978]

Week 43 - Halloween [1978]

Happy Halloween everyone!

When I was assembling my film list for this year, I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch the grandfather of modern slasher films, named after today, for this day. “Halloween” is also the last of my October-block of 5 horror films and the first movie in the final 10 films of 2018! This year is winding down fast people! Last but not least, as you may have read, during my screening (with about 11 minutes of runtime left) Cindy informed me that her water broke! We went to the hospital and my son was born! After a whirlwind few days, about 44 hours later, I was able to watch the last 11 minutes, so here we go—

Halloween is the story of the menacing, emotionless, psychopathic, and somewhat-supernatural serial killer Michael Myers. As a young boy, Michael killed his teenage sister and was admitted to a mental institution. Fifteen years later, Michael escapes, dons a painted William Shatner mask, and goes on a killing spree. Primarily targeting teenage women, Michael begins to track student and babysitter Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis). The two showdown in the film’s finale where the “final girl” fends him off long enough for a male doctor to come in and deal with Michael more concretely—the 70’s were so not woke!

Halloween did a great job of building upon “Psycho” by alluding to the gruesome serial killings of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. Uncomfortably long, voyeuristic takes, shot framing that suggested something bad could be around every corner, and the gradual reveal of information in a scene all played on the most natural of fears: something evil could be lurking nearby and we don’t even know it. The music (composed by director John Carpenter himself) added a chilling and dramatic underlining to even mundane action and the storytelling played as a sharp critique of the type of risqué teenage behavior that supposedly results from absentee parenting.

I think where the film lost me (a bit) was by playing up Michael’s supernatural strength. For me, Halloween began as the scariest of this month's 5 films because of its grounded plausibility. I don’t believe in reanimation, or zombies, or the devil, or ghosts—but a madman with a knife is simple and uncomfortably real. But the guy gets stabbed in the neck, eye, and chest, gets shot 7 times, falls off a balcony, and still keeps coming. Even Monty Python’s Black Knight would have given up by then! Combine this with a few clunky plot coincidences and the suspension of disbelief that made the film so initially chilling began to wear off. Still, “Halloween” remains worthy of its ‘classic’ status and begins a story that—based on how well it’s 10th sequel is doing—is clearly captivating people to this day.

Week 42 - The Shining [1980]

The Overlook Hotel, a popular, historic summer destination in the Colorado Rockies, closes every winter due to its snowy inaccessibility. Aspiring writer Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson) accepts a position as the hotel’s winter caretaker, bringing along his wife and young son to the empty hotel for the season. Between patrolling the grounds and light maintenance, Jack is hoping to have plenty of peace and quiet to focus on his writing. However, isolated and subject to the supernatural forces lurking within the hotel, Jack’s mental wellbeing begins to deteriorate. He becomes a great risk to his family and himself (the most sterile and spoiler-free way to say that!).

In addition to some awesome, classic imagery, "The Shining" likely draws power from the numerous interpretations it provides the audience. From the very first revelation that the hotel was built on a Native American burial ground to the hotel’s art and architecture, a story about the folly of Manifest Destiny emerges. Repeated warnings on the dangers of isolation and the early meetings with Danny’s psychologist shows the dangerous power and dark side lurking in all human minds. And, forgive my leaving the obvious, "The Shining" is clearly a classic ghost story with visits from the eerie, wooden Guests of past seasons.

But for me, the most powerful story was that of Jack’s alcoholism. It was pretty clear (in my eyes) that "The Shining" was a metaphor for a father’s destructive alcohol abuse. The winter representing his isolating coldness and the maze-like hotel hallways and—well—the actual maze representing Wendy and Danny’s feelings of entrapment. Ironically, Stephen King allegedly didn’t care for the film for leaving the book’s family and alcoholism themes out but I thought they were pervasive. The movie wasn’t powerful to me for because it was a real-story of an axe wielding mad man, but because that is likely what it feels like to be stuck in an abusive relationship.

The Shining was the fourth and final Stanley Kubrick film I will screen this year and his track record with me is mixed; but I gotta respect his style. I think he’s great because he was willing to swing for the fences. He put all of himself into his craft—sometimes to confusing effect and other times inspiring greatness. Despite "The Shining"’s initial slowness and clunky dialogue, the film is genuinely creepy and exciting. Like all Kubrick films, it is technically brilliant and its characters are his most painfully real. I liked it a lot!