Week 17; Film 121 - The Three Amigos [1986]

It’s a story that’s been told a thousand times: Included among “Seven Samurai”, “The Magnificent Seven”, and even “A Bugs Life”, comes the story of a peaceful village under attack by a vicious intruder. A villager, in this case the lovely Carmen, reaches out for assistance in defending the village. She telegrams to Lucky, Dusty, and Ned, three silent film actors Carmen confuses for real gunslingers. The three take the “job”, assuming it to be a performance and discover (painfully) that the whole thing is real—a real village is under attack by the evil El Guapo. After being made fools of, the three eventually decide there is no other option but to fight back and bumble through a raid against El Guapo’s mission-fortress. From there, they take the fight back to the village of Santo Poco where their combined effort with the villagers scares away El Guapo’s forces.

This movie is silly—exactly as silly as I prefer my comedies to be. By hitching itself to a tried and true narrative, the characters are free to be as joyously rediculous as you can hope for. Steve Martin, Chevy Chase, and Martin Short all play off of each other perfectly as three distinct, lovable idiots you can’t help but root for. Even Alfoso Arau’s El Guapo is a clever villain and, combined with his henchman Jefe (Tony Plana), the two prove to be charming in their own right. Despite risking predictability, the film moves wonderfully, giving each gag exactly as much breathing room as needed to bring the laughs and a few surprises. Finally, the film has aged remarkably well. I’m shocked by how much I enjoyed this film and am unashamed to rate it so high.

Ok, maybe a little ashamed.

Week 16; Film 120 - Malcom X [1992]

Again, it feels sort of silly to recap a historical/biographical film, but here goes nothing:

Young Malcom Little loses his father in a vicious attack by the Klan and his stripped from his mother by the system. Though a smart kid, he grows up to become a hustler and a thief, until he is sent to jail. There, he discovers the Nation of Islam and becomes a devout practitioner of that brand of Islam. Outside of prison, he adopts the surname “X”, begins preaching for the NOI, meets his future wife, and gradually soars to a very public, senior leadership role within the organization. With growing fear that Malcom’s public persona was eclipsing the NOI and his inflammatory statement on JFK’s assassination, the NOI turns their back on Malcom. Malcom travels to Mecca on pilgrimage and comes back with an altered philosophy, which he began to share publicly. This drives the NOI to attack Malcom and his family; the story concludes with Malcom’s assassination.

I think it’s impossible to speak of this film in only the context of its technical components, but I’d like to start there. In a film full of terrific, believable, attention-grabbing performances, Denzel, Angela Bassett, and Albert Hall reigned supreme. I thought the writing was excellent and the extra-story conclusion caught me off guard in a good way.

If opening titles with a burning American flag was any indication, I believe this film is meant to be challenging for some audiences. To start, if my high school history class’s “oh, and Malcom X was there too” version of the Civil Rights movement is any indication, Malcom has a complicated legacy in this country. The story lays bare violent and systemic racism in America and in many ways, Malcom’s proposed solutions to a racist America, in life and in the film, don’t easily mesh with modern, self-congratulatory views on integration and peaceful resistance. I found some of these views difficult to reconcile with; others have gone as far as to call him a racist.

And yet, the film didn’t impress me for its boldness but for its nuance. It balanced between Malcom’s personal and public lives and showed his tremendous transformation over time. Malcom’s story in this film demonstrates the constant exchange we have with the world around us—how we are influenced by our environment, how we respond to it, how our response can change the world, and how those changes can influence us yet again. Malcom was smart. And he was as much a leader and a bold talker as he was a listener and a student. He was a man.

Week 15; Film 119 - The Karate Kid [1984]

Yeah, yeah—I haven’t seen this before. That’s the point!

Daniel LaRusso moves to the Valley with his mom, leaving a life he loved in New Jersey. Despite initial attempts to fit in and make friends, he starts to get picked on and beat up by popular kids from the “Cobra Kai” dojo. Okinawan immigrant and apartment handyman Mr. Miyagi takes an interest in Daniel and offers to help mediate between him and the bullies. When the asshole sensei of “Cobra Kai” rebuffs this attempt, Mr. Miyagi offers to train Daniel in karate. Initially, Daniel is good-spirited about a training regiment made up entirely of house chores. But when his patience begins to wane, Mr. Miyagi confirms the purpose behind the conditioning. Daniel finishes his training rusty but spirited and defends himself in the All-Valley Karate Championships.

I know you all probably know this, but the Mr. Miyagi-Daniel duo represents one of the great mentorship-relationships in all of film. I mean, seriously, what’s better? Only Yoda-Luke seems to crack that. I thought this film was really special in how it perfectly matches Ralph Macchio’s fire with Pat Morita’s heart. This came to a head in a scene where Daniel helps a drunken Mr. Miyagi settle down and we see them as one—two men who have tried to play by the rules and suffer at the hands of bullies. In this way, the film transcends “Sports Film” and becomes a worthy tale about doing what’s right, not skipping on the details, building confidence through self defense, and growing up. Other than the notion of "karate as a social currency for cool", the film really holds up.

Week 14; Film 118 - Tron [1982]

You know, 116 films into this silly project and I still had yet to watch a Disney movie! That’s mostly because I’ve seen all the main ones. But in a desire to put my Disney+ subscription to good use, I made sure to squeeze in the ‘biggest’ Disney film I had yet to see…

—

Genius software engineer Kevin Flynn is trying to hack into the mainframe system of his former employer ENCOM. When he fails, his girlfriend Lora and fellow programmer Alan Bradley (lol…really?) sneak him into the company to try again from the inside. Once there, ENCOM’s Master Control Program (MCP) zaps Flynn with a laser that digitizes and downloads him into ENCOM’s mainframe. Inside the system, Flynn encounters a world where “programs” (typically in the image of their programmers, or “users”) fight in deadly computer games at the whim of the MCP. Flynn is forced into these games but uses his expertise to escape on a light cycle with TRON, Alan’s security program. The two meet Yori and fight to bring down the evil MCP's control of the mainframe.

“Tron” is undoubtedly an important step on the path to computer graphics in film—but it’s not quite there yet. If Jurassic Park is the moon landing, this film is one of the valuable but forgotten early-Apollo mission, for sure. With wireframe objects and simple gradient surfaces, the 3D art was about as detailed as those snaking-tube screensavers we used to watch. Which all would have been forgivable (I’ve forgiven a lot of bad, old practical effects) if not for the just-OK story. Though ambitious in its world building and action sequences, the story was a confusing mess of computer-culture caricatures, strange religious metaphor, and rule-bending, ex deus machina escapes. I smirked a few times at Jeff Bridges’ banter and the silly production design, and I appreciate the film for its place in film and Disney history—but I don’t expect to revisit this one often.

Week 13; Film 117 - Akira [1988]

In post-apocalyptic 2019 Tokyo, there is civil unrest and biker gangs run rampant through the city. Secretly, a Japanese army research project attempts to develop and study supernatural powers in young people. When Tetsuo, the picked-on runt of a biker gang, makes contact with one of these enhanced-kids, he begins to develop psychokinetic powers. He fights against his army captors, growing stronger and more egomaniacal with each moment. Tetsuo’s friend Kaneda, though initially sympathetic to Tetsuo, realizes the threat he’s become and tries to take Tetsuo down. Eventually, Tetsuo’s power grows uncontrollable and New Tokyo is destroyed. Thanks to the sacrifice of the supernatural children, Kaneda is saved.

“Akira” introduced audiences to a new type of story that could be told through animation and introduced Western audiences to anime. This both paved the way for anime as a popular, recognized art form in the West and influenced countless filmmakers. It’s undeniable how influential this film has been on the stories I’ve grown to love—from “The Matrix”, to “Inception”, to “Stranger Things” (especially). I appreciate all these things and was fascinated by my first taste of Manga-storytelling—with bloody violence, animated boobs, and a taste of a grotesque, enveloping, tentacle-esque climax sequence.

But I didn’t like it. I found the film to be all style and no substance. I’m sure I’ll probably get some shit for that, but the story just didn’t land for me. It was all over the place and hardly connected with meaningful coherency. Maybe it’s because I opted for the subtitled version over the English-dub and struggled to keep up. Maybe it’s because the film condenses 2,000 pages of Manga into a single film and tried to give all major players screen-time. Maybe it’s because I like the stories the film influenced more than this one. Or because amidst our current apocalypse, I couldn’t stomach seeing a fake one (in which the 2020 Tokyo Olympic grounds get obliterated…no joke). Who knows.

Week 12; Film 116 - The Apartment [1960]

“The Apartment” is about C.C. Baxter, a young insurance company worker, who lets his bosses use his apartment for extramarital affairs. The whole thing plays like the cheat-on-your-wife version of Air B&B, except Baxter doesn’t get paid—rather, he is promised a future promotion. Meanwhile, Baxter begins to crush on elevator operator Fran Kubelik, and this is where the whole film pivots from silly comedy to something else. Baxter comes home to discover Fran in his bed, unconscious. She was wooed back into an ongoing affair by Jeff Sheldrake, personnel manager; when she realized his advances were again built on lies, she tries to kill herself by overdosing on Baxter’s sleeping pills.

The next good chunk of the film involves Baxter and his neighbor Dr. Dreyfuss nursing Fran back to heath. The two connect as humans (in a way that hardly feels romantic) yet the nebbish Baxter continues to report out on Fran’s progress to Sheldrake. Fran eventually recovers and as a reward, Baxter gets that promotion he’s always wanted—although, he continues to get pushed around and feel rather empty. Will he stand up for himself? I've already spoiled a lot, so you'll have to watch to find out.

I loved this film. Part zany comedy, part emotions-on-sleeves romance, this film strikes right down the middle of my film and story preferences. The film’s pivot from silly premise to human story was a real magic trick, sold entirely by the root-able qualities in Jack Lemmon (Baxter) and Shriley MacLaine (Fran). I loved the design/setting (‘Mad Men’ before ‘Mad Men’) and can’t help but feel guilty for my attraction to the era. 60 years old, the film genuinely made me “LOL” and fall in love. That’s all you can ask for from a movie!

Week 11; Film 115 - The Thin Red Line [1998]

Set in the WWII Pacific Theater, “The Thin Red Line” opens with voice over vignettes detailing the thoughts and emotions of several army men at different levels of the command structure. The opening builds towards the men landing on Guadalcanal, in the Solomon Islands, to kick off the first major infantry assault against the Japanese. They land unopposed until reaching a steep, grassy hillside that is protected by Japanese machine guns. Americans are ripped to shreds by bullets and leadership argues about the best strategy forward. Ultimately, a small team advances to take out the Japanese bunkers. The mission is a success and the Americans take the hill. We get another series of voice over vignettes before the film ends with a near ambush in a river; the men are saved thanks to a sacrifice from one man (incidentally, Jesus [Jim Caviezel, who was fantastic in this film]).

Though an astoundingly simple plot, the film settles into its nearly 3 hour runtime by focusing on the mental frame, emotional state, and relationships of the main 10 or so soldiers. The film does this by frequently leveraging voice overs and flashbacks (apparently a Terrence Malick trademark). For the most part I found this approach to be a bit too on-the-nose, philosophical, and spiritual or etherial for my taste. My one exception is that I loved the interplay between Nick Nolte’s Colonel Tall and Elias Koteas’s Captain Staros. Seeing two leaders, one a superior to the other, disagreeing on the path forward was a masterclass on leadership dialogue. They were both right, in their own time and way, and simply had differing motivations, priorities, and visions. It was fascinating to watch.

I ultimately liked the film and think that its biggest flaw is hardly its fault. In the same way “The Rise of Skywalker”’s ending felt like of lame after the perfection of “Endgame”, this film came out the same year as “Saving Private Ryan”—which I personally find to be the superior movie. While I can totally appreciate that “The Thin Red Line” is trying to be more complex and hardly as chest-beatingly patriotic, it just never coalesced into a cohesive storyline. "Private Ryan" did so.

Week 10; Film 114 - The Third Man [1949]

American writer Holly Martins arrives in post-WWII Vienna and is dismayed to discover that his childhood friend Harry Lime has died. Holly, suspicious of the details surrounding Lime’s alleged death (witnesses said he was struck by a car while crossing the street) begins his own investigation into Lime’s passing. He floats between Lime’s former colleagues, love interest, and the unsympathetic British occupying police force. The later insisted that Lime’s death was justice, insinuating that Lime was involved in a lethal game of racketeering. When Holly begins to piece the real story together, he finds help where it seemed most unlikely—and a faces a foe he would never expect.

This was one of those films I knew nothing about going in and finished really liking. In fact, the more I dwelled on it, the more I realized I REALLY liked it! Though subject to many of the campy film-noir tropes I tend to reject, the plot was cunning and the characters had charm. I felt like Joseph Cotten’s Holly Martins had this modern sensibility I could keep up with and Orson Welles played an excellent villain. The film is going on 71 and still manages to play with audience expectations brilliantly, twisting perceptions of who can be trusted. It was a real magic trick. Throw in the unique music and the on-location scenery of post-WWII Vienna and this film felt like one-of-a-kind.

A weird film you might not have heard of, but I can’t recommend it enough.

Week 9; Film 113 - Requiem for a Dream [2000]

Harry Goldfarb, his friend Tyrone, and his girlfriend Marion, are heroine addicts. Harry and Tyrone traffic the drug. Tyrone hopes to escape the ghetto and Harry promises to use his proceeds to help Marion open her own fashion store. Sara Goldfarb, Harry’s mother, gets the opportunity to appear on her favorite game show. Hoping to lose weight fast, she sees a shady doctor who prescribes amphetamines to control her appetite. Each character gets their glimpse at a happier life until it all comes crashing down—When the local supply of heroine evaporates, Harry, Tyrone, and Marion experience an unfathomably extremely painful withdrawal. And Sara Golfarb, after continually increasing her dosage, develops amphetamine psychosis. Act three involves each character devolving into a torrential state of despair and agony. The film ends with each squandered into a charred-husk of their former selves.

There’s a lot that I appreciate about this film. To start, the brilliant editing. Then, there’s the cast of characters. Though deeply flawed in their own ways, I found each compelling and rooted for them. I also liked how Sara Goldfarb’s story of amphetamine addiction played off of and contrasted with the heroine addiction stories of the other characters. In this way, I believe the film expands to a broader statement on our shared dependancies, from medication, to television, to the little lies we tell ourselves. And finally, even as Clint Mansell’s dramatic music has found life beyond this film, it beautifully lends so much weight to the characters and their stories.

But I ultimately didn’t enjoy this film. Nor do I think it’s designed to be enjoyed. It was as challenging and harrowing as an honest telling of this story should be. But more so. By the last 20 minutes of the film, each character was in a cartoonishly bad predicament. Bordering on torture-porn (or actual porn), it really went off the rails in a way I couldn’t convincingly follow. One of my co-workers suggested that perhaps this frenetic sequence isn’t meant to mirror reality but rather each character’s perceptions of their reality—like a drug induced purgatory. Maybe I buy that. I don’t know. What I know is I probably won’t feel the need to watch this again.

Week 8; Film 112 - Cool Hand Luke [1967]

Florida man Lucas “Luke” Jackson is arrested after drunkenly cutting parking meters off their poles. This lands him in a prison chain-gang for 2 years. Though life in prison is hard, his grit, humor, independence, and killer poker face earns him respect and his titular nickname. When Luke learns that his sick mother has died, the prison warden locks Luke in “the box” (generally used for severe punishment) to prevent Luke from trying to escape for the funeral. Now determined, Luke escapes and is captured twice, his punishment growing more severe each time. Seemingly broken in spirit, Luke serves the prison boss until he executes one more cunning escape—I won’t tell you how this one ends.

First thing’s first, Paul Newman is the absolute coolest. Ridiculously cool. Anyway, this film was a sufficiently excellent story and interesting glimpse at a hot, dusty life on a chain-gang. While steady, bleak, and gritty, some pretty charming characters and sequences emerged (though I couldn’t eat a hard boiled egg for a week). Even though you can choose to walk away feeling sad, I found the film to be a rather inspiring statement on independence and challenging authority. Released during the Vietnam War, this must have been immensely punk-rock story. The flick also plays as a religious metaphor—or a reprimand of religion, if one chooses to see it that way.

Finally, the film has been undoubtedly influential on a variety of films that followed, from later prison films like ‘Shawshank’ and ‘Oh Brother’ to more surprising films like ‘Sandlot’ or the second ‘Terminator’. I knew of the film’s famous “What we have here is a failure to communicate” line but had previously unplaced it. Anyway, the film is fun, stoic, alien, and sad. It wasn’t my favorite kind of story, but I still definitely recommend it.

Week 7; Film 111 - The Notebook [2004]

I use two filters when assembling my film list. One, it can’t be a film I’ve seen before (or at least remembered) and two, it needs to be ‘culturally significant’—whatever that means. While that often includes films from classic eras or award shows, sometimes it just means getting harassed by my friends with a “wait, you haven’t seen THAT????” As is the case here, enter “The Notebook”.

In South Carolina, poor but persistent Noah (Ryan Gosling) woos the wealthy Allie (Rachel McAdams) in an endearing and young summer romance. Allie’s parents disapprove of Noah’s low-class and move Allie to New York. Noah writes Allie daily but after a year of no response and with the outbreak of WWII, he moves on. After WWII, Noah acquires and fixes up an old plantation house (as he pledged to Allie) but heartbroken, he falls into depression. Allie meets and becomes engaged to a dashing veteran. All is well for her until she learns of Noah and travels south to reunite with him. The two rekindle their romance and Allie forced is to choose between love and security.

If left here, it’s pretty clear that “The Notebook” would be another forgotten vanilla-romance movie. I found these ‘past’ sequences laden with all the shallow characters and nostalgia-porn of a Hallmark Channel Movie. Gosling’s character is meant to woo anyone who’s ever yearned for a clean-yet-rugged southern gentlemen to build them a house and make love to them after tearing off their rain-soaked clothing. I get it. It’s dessert. But I found the first hour to be pretty low stakes (at one point I looked at my watch and shouted, “C’mon! Gandhi knew what he was about 5 minutes in!”) and the second hour to be pretty generic.

What helps this film stand out a bit was the raw and grounding ‘modern day’ framing device. Like the “Princess Bride”, but depressing, the film is told by an elderly man (but in dire circumstances). Though I immediately guessed where these sequences were going, they were still pretty gutting (and would have remained so if not for the bullshit ending). It was those characters who I felt for and those characters I wanted to spend more time with. Indeed, for all my disgruntled disposition, I consider myself a romantic and was ready to enjoy this film. But for every moment of authentic, lifelong love was another with a Normal Rockwell-meets-a-CW-show scene of canned romance.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!

Week 6; Film 110 - Gandhi [1982]

As I’ve stated before, it can be rather difficult (and somewhat pointless) to rehash the plot of a biographical or historical movie but I thought this one was well told, so—here we go…

After opening with Gandhi’s assassination, the film cuts to a young-lawyer Gandhi fighting injustice in South Africa (and honing a technique of nonviolent resistance). The now famous Gandhi travels to India and spends time traveling the country, learning about its hardship and struggle with British rule. He begins orchestrating a nonviolent, non-cooperation campaign. Though it begins to gather steam, the terrible Amritsar Massacre conflicts the movement. On the other side of the intermission, Gandhi’s Salt March unites the nation against the British, though a conference on Indian independence proves fruitless. Finally, after World War II, Britain agrees to grant Indian independence. An accomplished Gandhi turns to mourning and fasting as the country splits into Hindu and Muslim factions and violence erupts. Gandhi’s attempts to quell violence begin to make progress when he is assassinated.

I was tremendously impressed by this film. It is a true and excellent cinematic epic (a genre that doesn’t always equate with quality). Smart story choices, prudent pacing, and a merciful intermission carry the film’s 3 hour, 11 minute runtime with ease. The scale of the film yo-yoed between astonishingly massive shots with waves of humanity to intimate, empty rooms with the frail, old man. The film found time for conflict both geopolitical and interpersonal. And the way the passage of time was portrayed (via design, makeup, acting) was effective and important. I can understand why the film won four of the big five Academy Award categories—Best Director, Best Actor, Best Original Screenplay, and Best Picture (although it beat E.T., which I freakin’ love, so there’s that).

Opening with the admission that the film can’t possibly cover every facet of Gandhi’s life, it succeeds by focusing on the courage, pain, forgiveness, and stubbornness required to successfully lead and participate in political nonviolence. It left me with a lot of thoughts on Gandhi’s legacy and the role of nonviolent resistance in today’s fractured world. Though I couldn't find answers, the screening was definitely worthwhile.

Week 5; Film 109 - Lost in Translation [2003]

Aging American movie start Bob Harris (Bill Murray) arrives in Tokyo to film a Japanese whiskey commercial. Meanwhile, young college graduate Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) is in Tokyo with her celebrity-photographer husband. Charlotte is bored, unhappy, and assessing her life and young marriage when she meets Bob, who is also distressed by work and his family life. With each character harboring angst and set against the backdrop of the isolating, foreign city, the two develop an unusual friendship. Their affection grows into an uneasy romance, constantly navigating through feelings of connection, desire, and perceived appropriateness.

I find myself struggling to peg down my thoughts on this equivocal film. I mean, I suppose I generally liked it. Beautifully shot, semi-humorous, and satisfyingly sad, there was a lot to like about it. I loved Scarlett Johansson’s performance and Bill Murray is always delightful, in his wooden sort of way. The film pits a character in her quarter-life crisis with one in his mid-life crisis—as someone between the two, I found their plights unjustifiably fascinating.

On the flip side, I had two issues with the film. The first was the use of Japan and the Japanese as a caricature of “foreign otherness”. While Coppola succeeded in portraying the unmistakable aura of Tokyo, the accuracy ended there. To me, Japan was nothing but welcoming, accommodating, and accessible. To see two characters moping in their hotel rooms, staring out at the confusing ‘other’ and chaffing at uncomfortable interactions with the populace felt like an unkind misrepresentation for the sake of story. Secondly, this didn’t make for a particularly entertaining plot. I mean, I suppose the first act—in which our two main characters hardly interact and remain distressed, individually—was necessary as character development to convince us of their unlikely connection. But I found myself just tolerating it.

Like I said—I liked this film. I liked a lot about it. But I wanted to love it and didn’t. That seems to be unfairly painting my takeaway.

Week 4; Film 108 - Doctor Zhivago [1965]

Doctor Zhivago is the story of a love affair after the Russian Revolution, told plainly and shot beautifully. That’s it. Seriously! Beyond that, it’s rather hard to condense this 3 1/2 hour film into a proper synopsis. I tried three times! Each time, I found myself writing a massive treatise before giving up. So here’s the best spark notes of the spark notes I could muster—

The film is about Yuri Zhivago, a doctor and poet. The married Yuri develops feelings for his wartime nurse, Lara. After his life falls apart in post-Revolution Russia, the two begin an affair. When it is learned that their lives are at risk, Zhivago arranges for Lara’s safe passage and becomes a doctor in communist Russia. The two die without each other, their romance nearly lost to time if not for the poems Zhivago wrote about Lara and, perhaps, a daughter. (I left out a lot of shit. Like, A LOT.)

This is the third film I’ve watched from David Lean (“Lawrence of Arabia” and “The Bridge on the River Kwai”) and the third to feature stunning cinematography and a too-long runtime. But I must be starting to become accustomed to his style because I tolerated this film greatly—almost to the point of enjoying it. While the film was long and dreary in places, it is a true “every frame a painting” movie. It's brilliantly acted and really transports you to the seldom explored (by Hollywood) world of post-Revolution Russia, British accents and all. Omar Sharif and Julie Christie were fantastic and it's always a delight to watch Obi 1.0 Alec Guiness do his acting thang.

For all of the film's need of another edit, one critique I disagreed with is that the historic backdrop is purely incidental and irrelevant to the love story (like “Gone with the Wind”). On the contrary, I feel like Zhivago’s guilty love affair is mirrored in his inability to truly align with a side during the Russian Civil War. His wife and son represents Yuri’s obligations to society, sacrifice for others, and ultimate sympathy to the Bolsheviks. Lara represented Yuir’s selfish desires and true passion, explored in his connection to 'counter-revolutionary' poetry, his aristocratic life, and what was stolen from him by Communism and time. Alas, despite Communism, time is the true equalizer.

Week 3; Film 107 - Pan’s Labyrinth [2006]

In post-civil war Spain, Ofelia and her pregnant mother travel to the mountain estate/base camp of Captain Vidal, a sadistic Falange military man tasked with crushing the Spanish Maquis fighting in the hillsides. Though Vidal has wed Ofelia’s mother, he only shows interest in his unborn son and is cold to his wife and Ofelia. Amidst this conflict, Ofelia discovers an ancient stone labyrinth beside the estate. Upon entering it, she meets a mysterious Faun who informs her that she is a princess reincarnate and must complete three task to reunite with her kingdom. Ofelia manages these fantasy-like tasks while the horrors of the outside world creep closer to her, ending in a showdown with her, her new brother, the psychopathic Captain, and a unit of liberating Maquis.

There’s no way that I conveyed a plot so darkly fantastical with any sense of justice. The film is a unique fairy tale and the backdrop of post-civil war Spain was an unexpected 20th century twist. In the fantasy world, the characters were whimsical or twisted and had Guillermo del Toro’s fingerprints all over them. Among humans, the performances were endearing and heartbreaking. The violence, in what could have otherwise played as a kids movie, was jarringly brutal. Technically, the CGI has aged fantastically due to its careful, measured use and the heavy-lifting of practical effects. But my favorite detail was the camera’s watchful eye drifting across scenes and through the trees. I loved it all.

Through a fantasy, this film brought to life a period of human history I knew little about and inspired me to dig deeper. I know Ofelia’s three trials play as metaphors, like any good allegory, but I feel ill equipped to truly understand in what way. But this film left me thinking, and thinking, and thinking—combined with all of the features that I loved about it, that’s the best gift a film could give me.

Week 2; Film 106 - Duck Soup [1933]

I’ve never seen a Marx Brothers film but they came strongly recommended by several folks over the last year. As a fan of Comedy, I knew I just had to watch one and picked “Duck Soup” due to high critical acclaim. The film is about the bankrupt country of Freedonia and its march towards war with neighbor Sylvania, easily avoidable but unattainable to the idiots running the show. Our main players are Leader of Freedonia Rufus T. Firefly (Groucho), his secretary (Zeppo), and Sylvania spies Chicolini and Pinky (Chico and Harpo). It’s rather impossible (and impractical) to summarize the film any further.

As somebody who was raised Bugs Bunny, and Monty Python, and Mel Brooks, and Family Guy, I immediately picked up on the tone of this movie. It is undeniable that the comedy DNA of the Marx Brothers reaches down to every irreverent comedy we enjoy today and I respect them for that.

But I did not like this movie. And I wanted to like it so much! Despite puns, jokes, and silly antics being dispensed at a million miles a second, I thought the film was hardly funny. Worthy of a few smirks, yeah. A couple pauses to think, “that’s a clever bit.” Yup. But man, I just couldn’t get into this one. I kept waiting for it to be funny and never got there. There’s no real character story to fall back on and the straight-playing supporting Cast added nothing. Critics make much about this being a political satire (in the league of “The Great Dictator” and “Dr. Strangelove”—two films I adore) but I found the commentary to be shallow by modern standards.

Influential? Undoubtedly. Good? Not to me.

Week 1; Film 105 - Once Upon a Time in the West [1969]

Happy new year! In keeping with my young tradition of starting a year with a conflicted man in a desert (and starting the year on a sick day, feeling miserable), let’s do this!…

—

Devious henchman Frank is sent by a railroad tycoon to pressure the McBain family off of their land so that the railroad may pass through unobstructed; Frank’s approach was to kill the whole family. The plan seemed to work until Jill, an unknown prostitute-turned-homesteader-turned-widow, appears and claims the land. Meanwhile, an unnamed, harmonica-playing figure enters town to settle a past score with Frank. ‘Harmonica’ teams up with Cheyenne, a cunning bandit, to preserve Jill’s land-rights and defeat the railroad tycoon. This leaves Frank to face the music (in a literal, harmonica sort of way).

Like last year’s screening of a Sergio Leone flick (“The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly”), I found myself engrossed in the tension and drama of this film. I also feel like “Once Upon a Time…” is a considerable refinement of Leone’s craft with beautifully fluid cinematography and less jarring Italian-dubbing. My one exception is that Jahan the film editor (spoiler alert, I'm not a film editor) would like to shave a few minutes off the top of this one. But that just gave me more of Morricone’s music, which is just awesome, especially where the ‘Harmonica’s’ harmonica motif blended in with the score.

The film had excellent character work. It reminded me of Pirates of the Caribbean 1 (a compliment in my book), with the three main males and main female all being like-able and complex in their own way. I think the apex of this is with Frank, played with icy practicality by Henry Fonda. I’m probably misstating the comparison, but after career of playing humble, happy heroes, for Fonda to play a villain was as much a heel turn as Heath Ledger’s Joker was today. His typical earnest delivery seeped through and you couldn’t help but stay captivated and conflicted by a character who amounted to a child killer.

Long story short, I really liked this film. It didn’t move along like “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” did and probably didn’t feel as fun for that reason, but I’m probably inclined to say that “Once Upon a Time in the West” is the better film. Way up there, as far as Westerns go.

Week 52; Film 104 - Wings [1927]

American small-town rivals Jack Powell and David Armstrong enlist to become combat pilots in World War I. After extensive training, the two pilots learn to trust each other and become friends. In France, Jack earns the reputation for being an ace pilot and grows cocky. He reveals to David that he has a fling for David’s beloved Sylvia and the two argue. Back in the air, David is shot down behind enemy lines. Distraught with the loss of his friend and how things ended between them, Jack takes off and guns down countless German planes to avenge David. However, still alive, David steals a German plane and heads back for Allied lines—but not before Jack, who sees the Iron Cross on David’s plane, aims to bring down one more German.

“Wings” is the first film to have won the Academy Award for “Best Picture” and it's actually really fantastic. I hardly imagined this silent film would cary its 2 hours and 20 minute runtime but it did. Even without speaking, the story was incredibly well told, with complex characters, changing motivations, and character growth. This is complemented by the stunning aerial photography, innovative camera work, and still passable special effects. You don’t get war film's with training sequences, or the dog fights in “Top Gun” and “Star Wars”, without this film.

The one character that stood out as ever-present but confusingly irrelevant was that of Clara Bow’s Mary Preston, the tomboyish “girl next door” who loves Jack and jostles for his attention. With the top billing and no effect on the story, it was no surprise when I learned she was only tagged into the project because she was Paramount’s biggest star. Still, she was charming, brought to the film its ‘20s moxie, and even represented the first, brief example of pre-code female nudity in a mainstream movie in the film's Paris segment. Talk about “draw me like one of your French girls”!

Finally, “Wings” is available to be viewed through rental channels after a 2012 restoration. The heavily cleaned up imagery and remastered audio played like a time machine to the past and helped each character feel larger than life. Though nearly 100 years old, this remastered film holds up and I can’t recommend it enough as an accessible jaunt into 1920’s culture, attitude, historical-narrative, and entertainment. What a perfect last film of 2019 before we venture off into this century’s ‘20s!

Week 51; Film 103 - Miracle on 34th Street [1947]

Kris Kringle (the ACTUAL Santa Claus) is in New York investigating why some people don’t believe in him when he is coincidentally and reluctantly hired to play as Santa in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. He is then hired to be Santa in the Macy’s department store where he irks store managers by prioritizing goodwill over store profits. Though immensely popular and influential, a mishap sends him to a mental institution for “believing he’s Santa Claus”. Reinvigorated by news that he’s convinced those he most cares about of his existence, he sues for his release and must convince the state of New York to acknowledge his existence.

What a mind trip and amazing story, particularly for the ‘40s (#modernitybias). And I just told it from Santa’s perspective! There were a number of fully fleshed our main and supporting characters that each travelled along their own journey of belief or love—or both! From Natalie Wood’s delightful childhood performance to Santa’s resolute character integrity, this movie is overflowing with wholesome charm. With an admitted bias against old, black and white films, I found myself being won over by this classic for being clever, charming, and perfectly Christmas.

As a final point, I think this film (and my feelings about it) speaks to a change that my grumpy ass has gone through in parenthood. As those close to me may know, I at one point I didn’t want Wes to grow up believing in Santa. I know, I know! But while I begrudgingly lost that battle, this film seemed to speak directly to my conflict in a way that melted my heart and reminded me of my childhood. Christmas is different for me now because of my little dude. A change that is likely for the better. 🤷🏼‍♂️

Week 50; Film 102 - White Christmas [1954]

Bob and Phil become successful entertainers and producers after returning from combat in WWII. The pair travels to observe Betty and Judy, two sisters trying to expand their act and end up joining them on a trip to their next engagement at an inn in Vermont. There, they learn that the inn is owned and operated by their former commanding officer, General Waverly, and that a snowless season has driven the venture to near-failure. Bob and Phil decide to bring their whole act to the inn to save the business. After a love rectangle and a few silly misunderstandings, the two pairs pull off the show of a lifetime in front of a packed crowd—and not a moment later, it starts to snow. 🌨

Man, I ate up this film’s sentimental charm while watching it—but recapping it like this sort of reminded me how silly it actually is. With a meandering first act and drama that was established through a simple misunderstanding (that was guaranteed to be cleared up), it wasn’t the most rock solid story. But still, the performances are delightful and the music is classic. The film’s first shot is a brilliant opener and the General Waverly “an old man looking to still be useful/‘We’ll follow the old man’” B-Plot just got me good. To me, “Holiday Inn” is still the superior film but with Rosemary Clooney and 100% less blackface, “White Christmas” is a close second!