Week 44; Film 201 - Sunset Boulevard [1950]

Joe Gillis is a screenwriter, struggling to afford his car and cramped Hollywood apartment. When the collection agency shows up, he flees and finds himself hiding out in the garage of a old-timey mansion, worn down and seemingly unattended. He pokes around and is discovered by homeowner Norma Desmond and her butler, Max. Norma, we learn, was a great silent-film starlet of the past—now middle-aged, lost and forgotten in the era of ‘talkies’. She recruits Joe to edit the behemoth, clunky script she’s working on to orchestrate her comeback. Against his will, Joe is moved into the Desmond estate to perform his work. Every now and then he comes up for air outside the estate, looking to feel youth and connection, but he’s increasingly pulled into Norma’s distorted and delusional world. Eventually feeling infantilized, emasculated, and trapped by Norma, Joe chooses to cut ties with the crazed icon—to his detriment.

I did not expect to, and yet, really loved this film. I’m not really a film noir guy, but this one felt different. It was brighter than others I’ve seen, and had a tremendous sense of humor to it (it’s tagged as a black comedy film). The moment Joe showed up at the Desmond estate and witnessed his first chimp funeral, I knew it was going to be different. The voice over was dramatic and exposing, but rather funny and charming at the same time. Speaking of which, it was fascinating to see a film genre that profusely uses voice over and dialogue to build drama, comment on a film genre that was unspoken.

William Holden’s Joe was a funny, serious, yearning character to follow, and it was hard to not fall in love with Nancy Olson’s Betty Schaefer. Gloria Swanson’s portrayal of Norma Desmond was interesting. It was kind of like Tom Hardy’s Bane—go with me on this. It was super over-the-top and on-paper-unbelievable, but so fully constructed and consistent that you can’t help buy it and sort of enjoy it. Finally, you have a fiercely “Hollywood” film, chock-full of cameos and authentic 1940’s Hollywood locations. All together, the film serves as a time capsule commenting on an era of Hollywood, while functioning as a time capsule preserving an era of Hollywood. Fascinating.

Week 43; Film 200 - The Ring [2002]

Teenager Katie Embry dies under strange circumstances, but not before monologuing about seeing a spooky VHS tape that kills you seven days after watching it. At her funeral, her mom asks her aunt Rachel (a journalist) to investigate Katie’s death. Rachel begins her search and eventually stumbles on the cursed VHS. She watches it and begins to see supernatural phenomenon, leading her believe that she, too, only has seven days to live. Rachel recruits the help of Noah, an ex-boyfriend (and multimedia expert?) to study the tape. A skeptic, Noah watches the tape. Even worse, Rachel’s son Aiden also watches the tape. With the urgency of knowing that all three will die without a resolution of some kind, Rachel and Noah study the monotonous, creepy imagery on the tape to find clues of the film’s origin. They dig up an evil, traumatic past and try to bring peace to a spirit that, quite frankly, doesn’t want any.

I wanted to like this film so much. And there were parts that I did. The detective mystery story was fun. It was like “Zodiac” meeting what I imagine “Twilight” looks like. And found the film sufficiently creepy through atmosphere and terrifying imagery. And there’s a real character story there. The most impressive “reveal” of the film was regarding Rachel and her relationship with someone around her.

But I was ultimately disappointed that the film sacrificed its impactful character story for cheap shock-scares. For me, the supernatural horror plot wasn’t strong enough to carry my interest and I only hung in there because I thought the film was trying to say something. At first I thought it explored the suggestion that modern media influences teenagers to do bad things. Then, after a beautiful voyeuristic shot of apartment dwellers watching TV, perhaps it was about the disconnecting and zombifying aspects of TV. Or perhaps about how we fail to give our children attention and simply place them in front of the TV, driving them to strange places. But by the false ending, it seemed clear—the film was about how children deserve our love no matter what and you can’t just hide your problems away.

But the real ending completely tossed out that wonderful notion and instead landed back on the crappy supernatural plot. I can imagine how fun it would be to see some of those moments in a theatre, with people writhing and reacting. But from my couch, 19 years later, I felt like ditching a human story for a cheap scare wasn’t worth it.

Week 42; Film 199 - Scream [1996]

After two high schoolers are gruesomely murdered, the town of Woodsboro, CA is whipped into a frenzy of fear and speculation. Meanwhile, with her father out of town and the local news media rehashing painful memories, ‘teenager’ Sidney Prescott struggles with the anniversary of her mother’s murder. Sidney is waiting for a friend when she gets a call from the killer and is immediately attacked by a Ghostface-mask-wearing brute; she narrowly escapes with her life. With the killer on the loose actively hunting teens, school is suspended and the town begins to shut down for curfew. Undaunted by the threat, a large batch of teenagers throw major house party to celebrate school being out. Hoping to be distracted and find safety in numbers, Sidney goes. But soon enough, when everyone splits off for various reasons, the killer resumes the hunt with nothing but monologuing and plot armer to get in the way.

Even though I kid, I actually really liked Scream. It’s a very fun, self-aware, whodunit murder mystery. The film does such an excellent job of setting clues and making you think that you’re on the case. But after a few dead ends and a growing list of suspects, I ultimately stopped guessing and sat back to just enjoy the flick. The “scary movie” theme really elevates this film from a typical slasher to something kind of genius. There was one point where the film sort of says, “the ‘Halloween’ score is perfect for this scene, so we’re just going to use it!” And it’s perfect! And while some things don’t necessary hold up—such as the role technology plays and the notion that a rural businesses would follow a curfew mandate (LOL)—the film holds up perfectly fine as a snapshot of the ‘90s and maintains a worthy bench spot on the “great slasher film” all-star team.

Week 41; Film 198 - The Evil Dead [1981]

Five college kids drive to a remote cabin in the Tennessee woods for some fun and romance. The cabin proves to be quite a dump, but they aim to make the most of it. That is until, during dinner, the cellar trapdoor suddenly opens. Ash and Scott, the two male students, head down to investigate and discover artifacts and research on the Sumerian “The Book of the Dead”. They bring the stuff up, including an old tape recorder, and start listening to the recordings. The recordings include chanting from the book, and that’s when things really start to go south. Ash’s sister Cheryl steps outside to investigate some noises when she is violently attacked by the woods themselves (this is an understatement). Cheryl turns into a “deadite”—a possessed zombie of sorts—and starts attacking the group. In typical horror movie fashion, one by one, the groups gets picked off and possessed while Ash emerges as the strong-willed last man standing.

“The Evil Dead” is known as one of the greatest cult films ever and has spawn an entire career-defining franchise for Sam Raimi and Bruce Cambell—but I didn't get it. I don’t think it’s because I’m squeamish or can’t handle the horror. It was unpleasant, sure, but I’m willing to go to pretty far places for a good story. But this wasn’t one. I was bored. When I later learned that Raimi made a “proof of concept” short film that he expanded into this one, it made sense—this film is ~20 minutes worth of story expanded into 85 minutes. The actors didn’t seem convinced by their lines and the dialogue was weak. There are no clear in-universe rules on how one is possessed, so I never really understood what Ash did to emerge as our hero. And with the exception of a few cool shots (blood on the projector, Ash emerging in daylight), the film wasn’t much to look at. I wonder if people misremember this film based on its sequels. It sounds like the subsequent Evil Dead film were more humorous, which is cool because its exactly what this film needed. I just don’t know if I’m interested enough to get to them.

Week 40; Film 197 - The Night of the Hunter [1955]

Harry Powell projects as a self-declared reverend, but he is really a woman-hating killer. He marries widows and kills them for money, justifying the act as necessary to carry out God’s will. In prison (on a car theft charge), he meets Ben Harper. Harper is in for murder and the theft of $10,000 (a big sum in 1932, when our story takes place). Harper meets his end in prison, so when the Reverend is released, he travels to the Harper residence in search of the $10k. He woos and weds Willa Harper, the distraught widow of Ben. But Willa doesn’t know the money still exists—it’s her son John and daughter Pearl who know where the money is hidden. When the Reverend learns this, he tries to squeeze the info out of them with kindness and vitriol . When Reverend realizes that Willa heard him threaten Pearl, he kills Willa. Now orphaned and with no one in town to trust, kids hit the river to escape the Reverend. He pursues on horseback on a nighttime hunt...hence the name.

This is a totally weird, totally workable film. It’s like “The Grapes of Wrath” crossed with “Home Alone”, crossed with “The Silence of the Lambs”. There is a wholesome Americana to the setting, juxtaposed with the pure evil of Reverend Powell. The story is ultimately about an authority figure abusing the trust of his title to commit evil acts. In a pre-Watergate, pre-me-too, pre-mainstream-serial-killers world, this must have been crazy-shocking to see. And yet, for all of the aforementioned reasons, the story is still resonant. Robert Mitchum is brilliant and terrifying as Reverend Powell. You both see how easy it is for him to con an entire town, and see the cracks emerge in his persona as the film rolls. And there’s some really great and eerie imagery, such as the Reverend’s Exorcist-like arrival in the fog (18 years before “The Exorcist” was a thing), Willa’s hair waving peacefully underwater, and the Reverend’s silhouette on a barnyard horizon. Despite looking like an innocent ‘50s kid show, there was tremendous tension and suspense throughout the film. I thought it was great.

Week 39; Film 196 - The Invisible Man [1933]

A strange, bandaged man seeks refuge from a winter storm in a country inn. He extends his stay and begins conducting secretive research in his guest room. When the inn owner elects to evict the man over his bad temper and rude manners, the stranger strips off his bandages and reveals that he is invisible. He begins maniacally torturing the town and the police, evading every trap laid for him. Doctor Arthur Kemp is visited by the invisible man and learns he’s a research partner who went missing, named Dr. Jack Griffin. Griffin tries to force Kemp into being his “visible” partner as he researches to find the invisibility antidote—while also terrorizing the world into submission. Will Griffin become an invisible crown floating on a throne over the world’s people? Or will the police “see through” his plans and bring an end to his reign of terror? Tune in to find out!

I honestly liked “The Invisible Man” far more than I ever expected to. A pair of glasses and a bandaged face never seemed all that terrifying to me, but Griffin’s bodycount is higher than most movie monsters and his ambition seems to be the most insatiable of the batch. I loved the playful, evil-joy Griffin exerted as he relished in the possibilities of his invisibility. And the special effects were actually pretty top notch and carried further than just a hat on strings. I also liked that the film patches potential plot holes, like explaining how eating works or acknowledging that Griffin carries out his evil exploits in the nude (LOL). I found Flora Cranley, the dumb damsel, to be one of the less-well-aged parts of the film. And I felt the flick resolved a bit cheaply. But perhaps that’s the point: even the smartest, most overpowered villains are bound to slip up and lead to their own doom—if only they were wise enough to see it.

Week 38; Film 195 - Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror [1922]

Real estate agent Thomas Hutter is sent to Transylvania to sell a vacant house in his town of Wisborg, Germany. His client is Count Orlok, a wealthy, tall, jagged, nocturnal recluse. Hutter arrives at Orlok’s castle and his host acts terribly strange. When Hutter cuts his finger during dinner, Orlok springs to suck on the wound. And when Hutter wakes up, he notices two “mosquito bites” on his neck. Right when Hutter begins to discover that Orlok is a vampire, Orlok (slowly, menacingly) springs on him and, well—sucks his blood. Orlok takes off for Wisborg with several coffins containing dirt from the graves of black death victims (his natural home and rejuvenating soil). When he arrives at Wisborg, rats from these coffins begin to spread a plague through town. Meanwhile, Orlok settles into his home and sees Ellen Hutter, Thomas’s wife, across the way. He springs to attack. Will he pounce before sunrise?—tune in to find out!

If you couldn’t already tell, “Nosferatu” is an (unauthorized) retelling of “Dracula”. Orlok is Dracula, Hutter is Harker, Wisborg is London, and Transylvania is—well—Transylvania. And where Universal’s “Dracula” amps up the vampire’s sex appeal and turns the blood-hunt into a conquest of sorts, Orlok is anything but sexy. He’s a twisted animal with blank stares, a menacing posture, and an insatiable need to feed. He’s a proper monster and in some ways, this film is far creepier than most “classic horror”. I loved the “black death dirt” origin story. I also thought it was really neat how, despite being in “black and white”, the film had three hues to communicate time of day—yellow was day/illuminated, blue was night, and red was dawn/dusk. Pretty neat and effective.

One weak point is that there isn’t really a Van Helsing character. While Thomas Hutter has the potential of a hero, Orlok essentially stands uncontested and endangered only by his own animalistic decision making. I suppose I don’t need a happy ending in my horror films, but I would like to see some notion of “fighting to survive” or something. This film is scary only in its revelation of Orlok and his “what havoc will he wreak?” trip to Wisborg. Finally, seeing a film with such overtly anti-immigrant themes (and Orlok’s stereotypical/racist Jewish depiction) was a weird pill to swallow in this 1922 German film. Some believe this was an unintended, unconscious inclusion on the part of Director F.W. Murnau, but it’s still pretty obvious to me.

All and all, a famous, horrific, ok film to start the Halloween season!

Week 37; Film 194 - Little Shop of Horrors [1986]

Seymour and Audrey work at Mushnik’s Flower Shop in New York’s Skid Row. Business is bad until Seymour suggests putting his unique plant in the window. He got the Venus fly-trap-looking plant one day after an unexpected solar eclipse and couldn’t tell what it was; he named it Audrey II (due to his crush on Audrey…I). Audrey II immediately garners attention and improves business, but the plant starts to wilt and doesn’t respond to traditional horticultural techniques. That is until Seymour pricks his fingers and learns that Audrey II feeds on—human blood. Seymour’s finger drops do well for Audrey II, who continues to grow, but who continues to need larger and larger blood sacrifices. Seymour and Audrey (I) fall in love and their world improves in every way, but the weight of Audrey II’s secret and increasing blood-thirst threatens to prune their happy ending.

“Little Shop of Horrors” was a fun, especially weird romp through the unique horticultural-horror-musical genre. The film had this Burton-esque style and tongue-and-cheek tone that I immediately connected with and enjoyed. The music was fun or fine. There was this weird duality where sometimes, the soundstage-production felt visually flat. And then other times, characters were staged in a special way or Frank Oz moved the camera in some really unexpected manner that added a lot of cinematic depth to the flick. I loved the supporting comedy characters, like Steve Martin’s Orin Scrivello and Bill Murray’s Arthur Denton—their scene together generated an actual “LOL” from me. And Audrey II’s puppeteering looked amazing. While I immediately bought into both characters and the charming, small story about kicking the can down the road and pondering "when have I crossed the line?", the film’s third act doesn’t do much for me. I read that it was extensively retooled, due to audiences hating the original ending. Where they landed was just ok.

Oh, and the “Greek chorus” was the absolute best—Crystal, Ronette, and Chiffon carried the film, musically. I will never not love that device.

Week 36; Film 193 - The Treasure of the Sierra Madre [1948]

Fred Dobbs and Bob Curtin are two broke Americans living in Tampico, Mexico. It’s 1925 and the two are sleeping in a hostel/flophouse when they meet Howard, a chatty prospector who suggests that there is gold in them thar Mexican hills. He speaks almost spiritually about the quest for gold, but warns that the hustle can change a man. When Fred and Bob come into some money they’re owed, they decide to chase after gold and bring Howard along. They venture into the Sierra Madre mountains and strike it rich. But as their fortunes grow, distrust and disagreements begin to creep in. In particular, Fred Dobbs becomes paranoid that he isn’t getting the best deal or that his fellow miners are out to get him. This paranoia begins to unravel all that the men worked so hard for until the gold is just dust in the wind.

There’s a bunch more that happens. Dobbs and Curtain are taken advantage of. There’s Mexican bandits. And Mexican Federales. And an idilic Texan man from a fruit farm. And natives in search of a medicine-man. All to add complexity and fluff to an otherwise simple allegory on the amplifying and corrupting power of money. These side characters and b-plots added some richness to the story, but made the simple plot feel like a slow crawl. Humphrey Bogart’s Dobbs was sufficiently irritating and big while Walter Huston’s Howard, with wisdom and a good attitude, was a cleansing force for the film. The film was shot on-location in Tampico, which is often cited as a big deal, but I’m not sure it added anything for this black-and-white film. Still, for all these random grumbles, I ultimately liked the flick. Its influence is felt everywhere from Indiana Jones to Breaking Bad and its famous (misquoted) line “We don’t need no stinkin’ badges” has wound its way into pop culture. Definitely worth a watch.

Week 35; Film 192 - Ran [1985]

Near the end of his life, a powerful, old warlord abdicates his throne and divides the kingdom among his three sons. He tasks his first son with the leadership of the kingdom, and instructs his next two sons to serve the first. Additionally, all three sons were expected to remain loyal to the warlord, who would retail the title of “Great Lord” for the rest of his life.

While the two oldest sons accept their roles with honor, the third son Saburo ridicules the move. He suggests it's foolish to think the sons would remain loyal and mocks the idea of a ‘peaceful transfer of power’ over a kingdom obtained through bloody conquest. For his insubordination, he is banished. But his warning becomes true when the first son, second son, and warlord grow distrustful of each other. Then, civil war breaks out. Perhaps Saburo can swoop in and save the day?—considering this story is based on the Shakespearian tragedy “King Lear”, I suspect not.

While I more enjoyed the other two Akira Kurosawa films I’ve seen (Seven Samurai and Rashomon), “Ran” was a bonafide epic. The film had tremendous scale, with a variety of expanse settings and hoards of extras shuffling about in battle. This was also the first Kurosawa film I’ve seen in color and the chromatic experience was vivid. With the exception of the opening shot and final battle (set amongst lush green grasses and forests), the landscape and castles were generally devoid of color. But each army carried Star Trek-ian colored armor and banners to help paint contrast and clarity. These colorful swirls of troop movements, along with the orange-red rage of the mid-film fire, stole my attention. This film is beautiful. But perhaps more about me than it, I found it a bit boring. The runtime was outsized for its plot. I personally don’t care for these types of stories (basically “Game of Thrones” without the dragons or special effects). But—I will heed the film’s warnings: Be weary of women with grudges and don't rest on your laurels after violently amassing an empire.

Week 34; Film 191 - Footloose [1984]

Teenage Chicagoan Ren McCormack has to move to Bomont, a small, western town, with this mom. Not used to such a small, conservative, community environment, in some ways he struggles to fit in; in other ways, he makes inroads. But he is shocked to discover that there is a ban on dancing and rock music within town limits. The teens in town are sort of accepting of this—they don’t know what they’re missing—so Ren takes some of his closest new friends across state lines to a dance. Now they get it. So Ren decides to challenge the town’s political and moral leadership (including Reverend Shaw Moore, a central figure in the dancing-ban). He builds support for hosting a Senior Prom and must plead his case for dance while facing threats, doubts, and support from likely and unlikely places.

Any movie-going experience involves the biases and expectations you bring to a picture. And to be honest, I didn’t expect that I would like this one. My secret—I don’t like to dance. LOL. And I think this film knows that, because the Willard Hewitt friend character is the stand-in for those of us who were never taught. But despite not liking dance, or films about teenagers, I was shocked to discover that this film played as a high-minded allegory on censorship and human expression. Sure, the teenage drama was run of the mill, and the dance sequences had a broadway musical level of (perhaps unintentional) camp.

But there was an unexpected humanity to the flick. One, in the dialogue on the freedom to express one’s humanness. The powerful book burning scene forced Reverend Moore to confront where the line is on restricting thought. And two, in the film’s characterizations. From Ren chasing this dream, not just to fit in and be a rebel, but to assert himself as a man in the wake of his father’s leaving. Then Reverend Moore, who I expected to be painted as a monochromatic villain, had real depth and struggle regarding his choices throughout the film. Kevin Bacon and John Lithgow’s performances were terrific. I loved the “courtroom scene”, where Bacon makes a case for dancing, not because it was a profound monologue, but because it was delivered like a teenager—a bit rambley, a bit unconfident, but it meandered around until it stuck its mark.

Long story short, I was really impressed. The film was fun, funny, and had a real point of view. I understand if this isn’t your thing, but the film definitely deserves better than the 51% it has on Rotten Tomatoes.

Week 33; Film 190 - Tombstone [1993]

Wyatt, Virgil, and Morgan Earp, arrive in Tombstone, Arizona with their wives, hoping to make it rich in boom-town business. There, they run into Doc Holliday, an old friend of Wyatt’s who is ill with tuberculosis. In town, Wyatt’s reputation as a police officer precedes him, but he tries desperately to leave that part of his life behind. But Tombstone is essentially run by the Cowboys, an outlaw gang, and Virgil Earp grows frustrated by the town’s lawlessness. Virgil signs up to be the town marshal and bans firearms in city limits. This, along with other escalating tensions, leads to the famous “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral”, in which two Cowboys are killed. Seeking revenge, the Cowboys ambush the Earps—Morgan is killed and Virgil loses an arm. This heavy blow drives Wyatt Earp back into law enforcement. He becomes U.S. marshal and, along with Holliday and a band of others, takes to the desert to systematically hunt down the Cowboys, like the biblical four horseman.

“Tombstone” was great. I think I expected a ‘90s, romanticized, historically-dubious western that over-played to Americans’ sense of manifest destiny and solving problems with guns. And maybe it was sorta that! But I didn’t expect to like it as much as I did. I think the film’s strengths include the characterizations, performances, and balance between authenticity and story. From Wyatt running from a past life in law enforcement, only to get lassoed back in, to Holliday’s search for connection and meaning amidst his declining health, the characters were real people on real journeys. Though by the end, the characters fell into western archetypes, they sort of earned that by establishing real motives and feelings. That balance allows the audience to have our cake and eat it too, indulging in a film that is both about human growth and good old fashioned gun-fighting. And the performances were excellent. The film is a who’s-who of white, male, middle-aged dramatic actors. Kurt Russell spent every second on screen proving he’s a deserved movie star and Val Kilmer’s southern aristocracy Holliday had real joy and pain. And last but not least, Sam Elliott’s Virgil Earp was the best, saddling the Earps with earnestness and integrity. Great flick.

Week 32; Film 189 - Close-Up [1990]

Iranian Hossain Sabzian is riding a bus in Tehran, reading “The Cyclist”, the published screenplay of a film by Mohsen Makhmalbaf. Sabzian is poor, adrift, but a huge cinephile. Mother Mahrokh Ahankhah sits down next to Sabzian and the two strike up a conversation about the book—when Sabzian suddenly claims he is writer/director Makhmalbaf, himself. He autographs the book for Mrs. Ahankhah, they swap information, and soon he is at the Ahankhah house to meet the family and discuss film. He eats with them, borrows some money, and suggests he’d like to make a film at their house and cast them. After a few days, the Ahankhah family begins to suspect foul play. They contact a reporter and the police, who come to their house and arrest Sabzian. Sabzian is sent to prison and tried for fraud. At the trial, the Ahankhah’s are clearly cheesed-off for being taken for a ride but are persuaded by the judge to to pardon Sabzian in the hopes he never does this again and can become a productive member of society. At the end of the film, director Abbas Kiarostami organizes for the actual director Mohsen Makhmalbaf to meet Sabzian and gather with the Ahankhah’s to cultivate forgiveness.

“Close-Up” is one of the most strange and fascinating films I’ve ever seen. It’s a “docufiction film”, not only “based on a true story” but a reenactment of it. The film is part documentary and features real footage (I believe the film of Sabzian’s trial is genuine). However, in addition to documentary footage, director Abbas Kiarostami convinced EVERYONE involved to come back and act as themselves to reenact the scenes leading up to the story breaking. The taxi driver who seems uninterested in the case came back. The reporter who showed up to his big-break case without a tape recorder and whose facts were questioned in-film came back. The judge who didn’t think the case was important came back. The Ahankhah’s came back to record the moment of their deceit. And Sabzian came back to give the world an eye into the sadness of his existence and the fraud that he committed. And uniquely, each of them were mostly decent actors! The film blends these people’s actual thoughts/feelings with performances (of themselves) to assemble a narrative of this strange case.

The result is a film that doesn’t simply tell a real story, it lives it—however suspenseful or boring that story could be. The film opens from the taxi driver’s point of view as he takes the reporter and the police to the Ahankhah’s. We hear the basic facts behind the case but see the driver is ultimately uninterested and bored as the arrest takes place off-camera. Later in the film, we see the arrest take place and Sabzian is genuinely expressive, depicting both grief and anxiety as the police come—to pretended to arrest him, like they did before. By blending documentary footage with reenactments, a line was blurred in a way that felt beyond-real. Was the camera’s eye picking up a genuine moment or expression? Or is the camera infusing an artistic, enhanced meaning in mundane elements of the case? For example, early in the film, we see a can of spray paint roll down a hill and the camera stays on it for ~60 seconds. Moments later, the reporter kicks the can further down the road. Was this a silly half-remembered detail of the day of the arrest? Or was it avant-garde symbolism for wealthy Iranians’ contempt for the poor, or disrespect of artistic expression, or simply a marker that the the events of the film are about to be set into motion? I don’t know.

This film was difficult for me to rate in the conventional sense. It wasn’t always entertaining. The case was low-stakes and unusual. But as an experiment, “Close-Up” is one of the most fascinating films I’ve ever watched. As a guy with part-Iranian heritage, I felt like I got a better-than-normal glimpse into life in Tehran: a hilly city with autumn leaves, and traffic, and real people, and all. And I got a real glimpse into Hossain Sabzian, a poor, sad man, neglected by society and who only feels understood by films that depict poor, sad lives. It was a stark reminder of why I do this silly film project and what these stories mean to the people who watch them.

Week 31; Film 188 - Jason and the Argonauts [1963]

King Pelias murders King Aristo to usurp the throne of Thessaly; Aristo’s son Jason seeks vengeance for his father. Through divine invention, Jason encounters Pelias but doesn’t recognize him. On the other hand, Pelias knows exactly who Jason is. Pelias can’t kill Jason (for mythological mumbo-jumbo reasons), so he encourages Jason to embark on an impossible quest for the Golden Fleece, hoping a journey “to the end of the world” will be his doom. Jason assembles a crew of Greece’s finest athletes, including Hercules, and commissions a sturdy vessel, the Argo. Jason and the Argonauts embark on their voyage. Along the way, they face colossal foes and mythical beasts. The group must rely on their strength, cunning, and some help from the god Hera. Finally, the group reaches Colchis, the kingdom of the Golden Fleece. The Colchis High Priestess Medea falls in love with Jason and leads him to the Fleece. Once in his hands, Jason must fight his way out of Colchis, swashbuckling with skeletons, and—the movie ends there.

I liked “Jason and the Argonauts”. It was very entertaining, and reminded me of a good episode of the original Star Trek, with improved production values. I especially loved the intervention of the gods, watching from Mount Olympus. The obvious star of the film (and what attracted me to the watch) was Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion animation monsters. Harryhausen didn’t invent the form (I remember being relatively convinced and impressed with the animation in “King Kong”), but he was prolific in the medium and shepherded the form into color and the proto-blockbuster. And that’s what this film was. Like a CGI heavy action flick today, this film was as much about the effects shots as it was the story. The most impressive sequence was the finale fight with 7 fully animated skeletons. It was definitely worth the price of admission. There were a few other moments where I thought “that’s really clever!” There were also shots that haven’t aged as well, but I don’t hold that against the film.

That said, my only real critique is that the film just—ends. Act 1 sets up a struggle between Jason and King Pelias. It’s personal and features interesting rules of engagement. The Golden Fleece is just a tool (a MacGuffin, really), to aid Jason in his fight. And yet, once he obtains it, the film ends! Maybe in 1963, the average viewer knows their Greek Mythology and knows where the plot's going? It felt like the real story driver wasn’t the search for the fleece, but the conflict for Tessaly. Seeing the “big story” and then being told “actually, the little story was all that matters” felt a little—Game of Thronesey.

Week 30; Film 187 - La Dolce Vita [1960]

Marcello Rubini is a well connected tabloid journalist, who spends his days and nights in pursuit of women, luxury, artistic merit and, well—the sweet life. Marcello reports on celebrity gossip, eccentric religious stories, and aristocratic scandals, but he really wants to write literature and mingle with artistic high society. He has an obsessively faithful girlfriend at home, but he chases after heiresses and actresses who will never love him back. And he is envious of his intellectual friend Steiner, who seems to live the life he always dreamed for himself, but who harbors great fears and a sadness that will boil over into tragedy. The film takes Marcello through a series of episodes, each closer to and further from his dreams, ending on a life path both everything and nothing like the life he wanted to live. In a life of desire and compromise, perhaps the sweet life is always out of reach.

“La Dolce Vita” is consistently ranked as one of the greatest films of all time. The film isn’t so much plot or character driven, as it is a series of episodes and vignettes of the unfulfilled, sordid, bored, and hungry life of Marcello. Much is made by film critics about the film’s technically and symbolically symmetrical structure: The story seems to have a prologue, an epilogue, an Intermezzo, and 7 balanced acts, or episodes. Each episode zig-zags through literal depictions of Marcello ascending and descending, day turning to night, and back to day again, all against a backdrop of ancient and modern Italy. I was also intrigued by the inclusion of the Paparazzi (this film actually is the genesis of the term) and the conflict between public and private. I found the film interesting and relatable, while being dull and confusing. I think I both do, and do not, understand the high praise this film gets and think it’s worth another rewatch (but at ~3 hours, I don’t think I’ll start anytime soon).

Week 29; Film 186 - Enter the Dragon [1973]

Kung Foo martial artist Lee meets with Braithwaite, a British intelligence officer, to discuss the mysterious Han. Originally from the same martial arts school as Lee, Han has drifted from virtue and is suspected to run a drug and prostitution empire from his private island near Hong Kong. The island is closed to outsiders except for once every three years, when Han hosts a martial arts tournament. Lee accepts an invitation to this tournament. He intends to snoop around and gather intel on Han, to radio back to Braithwaite. On the way to the island, Lee meets gambling addict Roper and his black Vietnam War vet friend Williams, each themselves proficient in martial arts. Throughout the tournament, Han demonstrates how ruthless he can be, torturing and killing visitors and his own guards, as he sees fit. When Lee is captured radioing for help, it kicks off an island-wide martial arts melee for survival.

“Enter the Dragon” was a damn cool movie. With an over the top bad guy in an evil lair, with evil henchmen, staged on an exotic island with mysterious men and beautiful women, the film plays like a James Bond flick. The film was entertaining and suspenseful. I’m not really a martial arts guy (I came in after it was a bit out of fashion and hyper sanitized—think “3 Ninjas” films), but these fights were exciting and dramatic without the modern effects (fast-cutting, wire work, CGI) that are used today. I don’t have a take on the depiction of asian culture in the film, but Bruce Lee is clearly the real deal and the unquestionable hero of the film. I also loved the anti-hero contributions of Roper and Williams. I think some of the characterizations were a bit simple—each character had their one thing, and they stuck to that throughout the film. Again, this is no different than a James Bond film but my unfamiliarity with the film made it stick out. But I still found this to be a fun, entertaining, sexy, and fierce film.

Week 28; Film 185 - RoboCop [1987]

Police officer Alex Murphy is on his first patrol through Old Detroit when he is gruesomely murdered by a psychopathic gang. His body is transferred to Omni Consumer Products (OCP), a corporation that is privatizing the Old Detroit police force. They up-cycle Alex’s body into a robot/man hybrid, RoboCop. RoboCop is a better shot, has better firepower, more endurance, and has a variety of other improvements over human cops, like an ability to record bad guys and vet their image against the bad guy database. RoboCop seems like the future of police work, until he comes across a member of the gang that murdered Alex Murphy. When he goes digging into Alex Murphy’s past—his past—he becomes angered by what OCP did to him. When he learns that Old Detroit’s criminal underbelly is in business with OCP, RoboCop goes on an all-out-war on the organization that brought him back into existence.

After watching this flick, I immediately get why they keep trying to remake it. It’s a pretty rock-solid premise, and is timely as heck: privatizing public services, militarizing the police, leveraging AI-tools in crime fighting, humans v. machines, the limits of corporate goodwill, gentrification, a satirical take on hyper-masculinity in policing, etc. This film is predictive about where our justice system is, and is heading, in the way that “Network” was predictive about where mass news media has wound up. And for all of its omniscience, it feels remarkably dated. The way Hollywood did “gritty/grimy” from ‘85 to ‘95 has aged super poorly. From 2015 Hill Valley, to Gotham City, the Fifth Element’s New York City, Old Detroit joins the ranks of other dystopian movie-cities that feel cartoonishly dirty, dysfunctional, and evil. But while I can see why they want to remake this, I think the original is still an unexpected gem. It’s over-the-top blood and guts, caricature of evil bad guys, and cunning advertisement interludes really modify this action film into something of satire. While I think some of the characterizations left something to be desired and the dated production design was distracting, I still thought the film was super entertaining and liked it more than I imagined I would.

Week 27; Film 184 - JFK [1991]

On November 22, 1963, President John F. Kennedy is assassinated in Dallas, Texas. When the media begins reporting on Lee Harvey Oswald’s arrest and his past history in Louisiana, New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison instructs his team to dig around. When they find a potential co-conspirator, the FBI publicly deny any connection to their case. This puts a chip on Garrison’s shoulder, which he carries for the next three years. When he reads the Warren Report, the U.S. Government’s official report on the assassination, he is dumbfounded by the number of inaccuracies and general poor-investigative hygiene littered through the volumes. Garrison reopens the investigation into Oswald’s potential co-conspirators in New Orleans, leading down a dark and winding path to unravel a conspiracy that stretches from the military industrial complex to President Johnson. Along the way, he struggles to maintain the respect of his wife, members of his team, and his constituents, as well as ensure his safety. The film concludes in a trial—for the conspiracy to murder the President—the only trial every held for the assassination of John F. Kennedy.

To start with the good, “JFK” features a super-star cast and they’re each acting their assess off. I mean, seriously, this film was the “Avengers Endgame” of middle/old aged white men drama actors, and they did their thing with care. I thought the film was tense at times, and I appreciated the claustrophobic cinematography, frantic editing, and regal, at times chaotic score. I think the film was noble in its attempt to force Americans to reckon with the role this country has played in toppling governments, buying our way out of the Cold War with military spending, and the government’s attempts to subvert the will of the American people—all resonate still, today.

On the flip side, I couldn’t really get into the flick. It just happens sometimes! Just because a subject matter is compelling or mysterious doesn’t mean that it translates to a good story, or interesting characters. Costner’s Jim Garrison, as a main character, is the embodiment of the interview answer, “my weakness is that I care too much and work too hard.” He undergoes no transformation other than to become increasingly obsessive, and less disciplined as a lawyer. Early on, he criticizes the legal/detective work on the assassination, but by the end, even I could tell he didn’t really have a case by courtroom standards. And yet, despite this character arc, he is carried as the film’s hero (which is always weird when the real-life subject consults on the film—the real Garrison even cameoed as Supreme Court Chief Justice Earl Warren). It felt like the whole purpose of the film was to stage Stone/Garrison’s narrative of the assassination in a captivating way, and button it with a monologue on the average citizen’s responsibility to challenge government and thwart the military industrial complex’s descent into fascism. I agree with this message, and I enjoyed the closing monologue (and a chilling, fourth-wall breaking moment when Costner sort of stares into the camera—because “we” are all the jury), but I didn’t find the 3+ hour runtime worthy of a hunch.

Week 26; Film 183 - Jaws [1975]

After a young woman is killed in a ferocious shark attack, Amity Island Chief of Police Marty Brody prepares to close the local beaches. When the Mayor suggests this is the wrong move, he succumbs to doubt and backs off the plan. Unfortunately, one week later, a young boy is killed by the shark in front of scores of beach goers. The town is whipped into a frenzy and fishermen from all around the coast flock in to capture and kill the shark. When a large tiger shark is hauled in, Brody and the town residents breath a sigh of relief, but oceanographer Matt Hooper isn’t convinced it’s their killer. Another shark attack confirms his suspicions and forces the Mayor and Brody to take drastic action. They pay an exorbitant sum to the colorful, local shark-killer Quint to take care of the beast. Quint, Brody, and Hooper embark on the vessel “Orca” and soon come face to face with the biggest great white shark each have ever encountered.

Widely considered to be the first summer blockbuster and the kickoff to Steven Spielberg’s career, I can now write my hot take—this film is fantastic. There’s not much to gush over that hasn’t already been said. The use of William’s score to audio-locate the approaching shark is perfect. The effects are minimal but effective. The film avoids falling into a “slasher/monster film” rut by progressing through three distinct and perfect acts: (1) the reckoning on the beaches, (2) the frenzy to hunt and salvage summer, and (3) the battle on the open seas. And I loved our three main players and their respective characterizations. Brody, Hooper, and Quint each had real likable traits and compelling character flaws. Seeing the three strangers form, storm, norm, perform, and adjourn (with the help of the shark) makes this one of my favorite “team up” stories. Of course, Quint’s “U.S.S. Indianapolis monologue” is perfect. And the film’s tone is fluid and fascinating. The film is a thriller, no doubt, but has a swashbuckling drive, friendly banter, and beautifully shot vignettes of family life to balance out the blood and guts.

The “current events” angle I mentioned earlier is the parallel between the “we can’t close the beaches on the 4th of July” and pundits suggesting early on that we should all be accepting the risk of a still-not fully understood COVID “for the economy”. As with “Jurassic Park”, this is a monster film and the shark is an antagonist—but the irresponsible choices of people proved to be an equally powerful, antagonistic force. No doubt, the blood of the victims was shared by shark *and* man. In this way, the film is weirdly prophetic. And considering we seem to be getting dumber, I suspect this tale will remain timeless.

Week 25; Film 182 - Sholay [1975]

Thakur, a former police inspector, hires two criminals he previously captured, named Veeru and Jai, to assist him on a dangerous mission. Thakur was impressed by their fighting prowess and was convinced they had goodness in them. Thakur needs help because his village is constantly raided for ‘protection money/goods’ by Gabbar Singh, a dacoit (bandit) and his evil clan. Additionally, Thakur has a personal vendetta against Gabbar, who took nearly everything from him. Veeru and Jai agree to Thakur’s terms and come to his village. The two men, famously unbound to any allegiance but each other, fall in love with the place and its people. They begin to make plans to settle down when Gabbar and his men show up to (literally) ruin the party. Over the course of the film, several battles ensue in a struggle to break free from oppression that is guaranteed to lead to loss.

If the story sounds familiar, it’s because it’s one of the most famously remade premises every—starting with Seven Samurai, and then The Magnificent Seven, and more. This film also borrows a great deal from “Once Upon a Time in the West” and “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”. In addition to borrowing from many westerns, the film spans multiple genres and styles (in Indian cinema, this is known as a “masala film”). At times, it feels like a Leone western, Rambo film, an adventure film, a romance, a drama, and a Mel Brooks-style comedy (there’s a weird detour with a slapstick, effeminate-Hitler character). And then of course—the film is a musical as well, with several song and dance sequences. This is all a lot to weave through but the film does so well and is entertaining through and through. This is my first Bollywood film (since high school) and apparently this is all standard fare for the medium. It’s taken me far too long to get to an Indian film (the Indian film industry is the largest in the world, in terms of films produced), and I look forward to watching more.

My only criticism of this film is that it was excessively long and the version I watched had a distracting 3D conversion (I didn’t watch it in 3D, but could see silly moments where I was meant to see the effect—like an exploding wooden plank flying towards the camera). The film clocks in at just under 3.5 hours. There were several flashbacks or alternate character stories included to build drama and “show” the audience how bad the situation was, but interrupted the plot or wasn’t worthy of the detour. In particular, there was a moment right before intermission (I won’t spoil it). It was a character choice that I could see coming, and I knew it would be brilliant. The film then cuts to a flashback to “show” me what happened, instead of tell me. The sequence added 20-30 minutes to the film and frankly wasn’t as well executed as a heart-wrenching monologue could have been. Or maybe another musical sequence!