Week 12; Film 221 - Easy Rider [1969]

Wyatt and Billy smuggle cocaine from Mexico to Los Angeles on their motorcycles. After getting paid, they set out on a cross-country ride to make it to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Along the way, they encounter people from many walks of life. They meet a homesteading farmer, a hippie hitch-hiker (and visit his commune), ACLU lawyer George Hanson, a cruel, intolerant southern sheriff and gang, and a pair of Louisiana prostitutes. With their prostitute pals, they take LSD and have an absolutely mind-bending, miserable night. The story ends with an unfortunate run-in with some rednecks and a shotgun.

I wrote that recap, but it’s kind of a silly endeavor. It’s like writing a recap of the scenes on Big Thunder Mountain—yeah, I could describe what I saw, but there isn’t much of a plot.

I get what they’re doing with this flick. Modern western. Bikes are like horses of old and Wyatt and Billy (names on point) are their riders. I don’t dismiss this film. It played with a lot of interesting ideas. I really like its examination of freedom and its restraints, be it through contract (a job), the land, in parading, or simply not fitting in. The film has a kick-ass rock soundtrack and, with its many long montages, almost plays like a collection of music videos.

But ultimately, the film fell outside of my preferences. It is more mood and style than it is story. I struggled with the meandering pace of the film and aimless attitude of our bikers. I’ve never found drug sequences to be all that fascinating. And while the editing was really interesting, and made some cool choices, the film is just too long for what it gives you. Apparently it was cut from 4 hours to 2; I think you could get in and out of this story in 30 minutes. Lol.

Week 11; Film 220 - The Maltese Falcon [1941]

The Maltese Falcon is a 16th century, jewel-encrusted, golden falcon. Its whereabouts is a mystery but a group of unscrupulous collectors/dealers are desperately searching for it. We first learn about the treasure when Ruth Wonderly walks into Sam Spade & Miles Archer’s Private Investigation firm. Ruth claims to be looking for her sister, but when the case results in Archer’s death, Sam immediately recognizes that something bigger is going on. Sam is thrust into a precarious position, having to trust habitual liar Ruth, dealing with the potentially dangerous people who were after her, and evading the police who suspect he has something to do with Archer’s death. Sam never quite seems in control of the unfolding events, but is nimble enough a character to navigate a web of lies and threats.

For some, “The Maltese Falcon” is the first true film noir film. And while film noir is a genre that I generally don’t have an appetite for, I enjoyed this film quite a bit. I think its because, for all of the typical film noir moodiness and dull sets/lighting, there’s actually a pretty comical, diverse set of characters. Humphrey Bogart’s Sam Spade is predictably macho and cunning, but vulnerable enough to not feel super-powered. Mary Astor’s Ruth Wonderly/Brigid was a fantastic femme fatale. Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre’s Gutman and Cairo were fascinating antagonists for the same reason I liked Spade—they never quite seemed to be in control and were a bit outside the traditional bad guy archetype. What resulted was an interesting enough film, and one which I never really ever knew where it was heading.

Week 10; Film 219 - Hero [2002]

Nameless, a great master swordsman, is granted an audience with the the ancient Chinese King of Qin. Nameless has singlehandedly taken out the three assassins the King has most feared, and the King wishes to honor him. Still, the King is paranoid and requires all subjects to sit 100 paces away from him. The King asks Nameless how he killed the assassins. With every story, the King becomes more intrigued and allows Nameless to move closer to him. But at some point, the King begins to doubt Nameless’s stories and suggests that the swordsman was in fact there to assassinate the King, himself. In the unfolding dialogue, Nameless monologues about the way the King is right, the ways the King misread the beliefs of his assassins, and Nameless’s thoughts on what China ultimately needs.

This film is a visual delight, beautifully acted, choreographed, and designed. And I loved the way the story unfolds. What my synopsis doesn’t get into is that with each recollection, the film cuts to a gorgeous, color-intense, intricately staged fight sequence. Like fights in similar films, the scenes transcend reality and steep in a highly-hued suggestion of what the characters’ struggle is. It’s immensely beautiful, riveting, and is a joy to watch.

At some point, it became evident that I was watching a patriotic myth (not unlike American patriotic myths), but with themes which were somewhat inaccessible to me. While those of us with a western POV may only understand China as the monolith state government depicted in the media, the country is in fact made up of many ancient cultures, traditions, kingdoms, and peoples. In the film, Nameless decides that for China, the sum of a united country is greater than its parts—even if that means losing the rich diversity of the country, living under a despotic king, and ultimately, sacrificing his own life. With the film’s unreliable narrator pivoting the tale’s morality, the film lands at a place that feels purposeful but doesn’t jive with my personal feelings on the value of freedom and diversity. Maybe I’m over-reading into this, and I didn’t go into this film looking for this angle. But to me, the film’s propaganda-like qualities became organically evident.

So the gorgeous film lands on a weird morality tale that I don’t fully get. That’s ok, it’s still a gorgeous film.

Week 9; Film 218 - The Departed [2006]

Mole. Rat. Whatever you want to call them, two men have been groomed to infiltrate the other’s organization. Colin Sullivan works for the Massachusetts State Police but reports insider information back to Irish Mob boss Frank Costello. Billy Costigan has been publicly stripped of his police commission but funnels criminal happenings to the police as an informant within Costello’s organization. What unfolds is a quadruple concentric helix, cat-and-mouse game where the police try to close in on Costello before the Mob can crack a big-time deal on stolen computer microprocessors—all the while Sullivan and Costigan continue to close in on each other, determined to identify and out the man who betrayed his supposed brotherhood.

This film is fascinating, exciting, and tense. It’s honestly my favorite Scorsese film (which is interesting, considering he didn’t write this one and it’s based on a Hong Kong action-thriller). The film is chock-full of excellent performances from a who’s who of white male actors: DiCaprio, Damon, Nicholson, Walberg, Sheen, Baldwin, and more. The music, the pacing, the style, all fantastic. It’s now been several weeks since I’ve seen it and I wish I had more to say, but—I loved it.

Week 8; Film 217 - Coming to America [1988]

Akeem Joffer, the crown prince of the wealthy African nation of Zamunda, has tired of his luxurious, curated life. From having servants wipe his butt to bathers clean his royal penis, everything is done for him; even his future wife has been hand-selected. But Akeem wants to find love for himself and spend time without his luxury trappings. Sensing that Akeem is just anxious and wants to “sow his oats” before marriage, Akeem’s father King Joffer agrees to let Akeem (and friend/aid Semmi) travel to New York for 40 days. The two young men hole up in a crappy apartment in Queens and Akeem begins his search for real love. The two get jobs at fast food restaurant McDowell’s and Akeem becomes enamored with the boss’s daughter, Lisa. With Lisa already in a relationship, Lisa’s father Cleo somewhat-dismissive of Akeem, Semmi struggling with poverty, and King Joffer angered to discover the truth of the visit, Akeem has his work cut out for him! Hilariously, I might add.

This film is amazing. I watched “Trading Places” two months ago and knew I needed to explore more classic Eddie Murphy (hilariously, this film takes place IN the “Trading Places” universe). I sort of half-jokingly placed this film in February to be a “Black History Month” selection and it totally plays. With an excellent, all black cast and diverse black characters, this film does what “Black Panther” did, 30 years earlier. I understand how it’s different, but also—Wakanda is basically just Zamunda. Lol. The fish out of water elements were well done, the film is funny, and while a little rushed, the romance is cute. The film’s critical reception suggests it’s not as universally loved as I would have expected, but I loved it.

Week 7; Film 216 - Before Sunset [2004]

In “Before Sunrise”, American man Jesse and Frenchwoman Céline meet on a train. With time to kill, they spend a night together exploring Vienna where they fall deeply in love. They promise to meet back in Vienna in 6 months, but—as we learn at the start of “Before Sunset”—the fateful rendezvous never takes place. Now 9 years later, Jessie is an author touring his book “This Time” (a fictionalized account of his night with Céline) through Europe. His tour concludes in Paris where a curious Céline is waiting to meet him. With 60 minutes to kill before Jesse must leave for the airport, the two stroll around Paris and reconnect. They discuss where life has taken them and reveal that they’re each in relationships now (in fact, Jesse is married, with kid). But it’s clear that neither of them truly got over that night of pure, spontaneous connection. Their conversation bounces from the mature and analytical, to flirtatious, to philosophical, to depressive, and on to the nature of love as youth comes to a close.

I watched “Before Sunrise” a few years ago as a part of this very weekly film project, and it’s probably at top 5 romance film for me. Maybe my favorite. I included its sequel on this year’s film list (for Valentine’s Day) out of pure self indulgence—I had to know what came of Jesse and Céline. Similar to the first film, this film’s strength lies in its dialogue. The films are essentially two-actor plays that happen to take place on a stroll through European cities. The dialogue flows so naturally (actors Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy are credited as writers, workshopping their own natural speech into the film), so you are presented with two fully realized characters during a moment of authentic connection. I was focusing so much on these two characters that I didn’t even notice an 11 minute one-shot, and I love those! It’s action-less, yet enthralling, uplifting, and heartbreaking. And in this film, there’s an underlying sadness of regret that adds texture to the love story. Anyone who has ever loved and lost—or lost anything from a more hopeful, younger version of yourself—will understand this film.

If there’s one knock I have of the story, it’s the ending. I can handle ethically grey characters and unresolved plot lines, but this one felt unfair. Lol. Like “Sunrise”, this film ends on a ambiguous cliffhanger. But while “Sunrise” places its scheduled rendezvous out of the reel, 6 months in the future, this film just fades to black. We are denied our character’s choices, not for the next chapter, but within the very chapter we’re watching. This film sort of addresses this in the opening dialogue: That what we bring to the film influences what we see in its ending. But the murky suggestion made by the ending doesn’t deny us a suggestion, just details. Still, I was otherwise melted by this film and you better believe I’m here for the love trilogy’s finale.

Week 6; Film 215 - Thelma & Louise [1991]

Thelma and Louise are best friends who sneak off on a weekend getaway. Louise is a witty waitress and Thelma is a reclusive housewife (trapped by her controlling husband). The pair stop driving for rest and for drinks, and Thelma enjoys a few dances with a local flirt, Harlan. But things turn brutal when Harlan takes Thelma outside and starts to rape her. Louise gets there and stops the assault with a revolver. When the two women begin to leave, Harlan starts mouthing off at them and in a split-moment decision, Louise shoots him square in the chest. From here, the film pivots—our buddy road trip movie is now a getaway flick. Our two friends come to grips with the murder, hastily lay out a plan, a begin to make a break for Mexico (the long-way ‘round, hoping to avoid Texas). But as they run out of people to trust and the cops begin to close in on them, the pair are forced to make more rash, criminal decisions. The two find themselves on a plateau before a massive gorge, surrounded by the FBI and out of options. *cue famous ending*

I joke, but only thing I knew about this film was its famous ending, by way of the countless parodies I’ve seen of it. In the actual film, the decision carried emotion and meaning, and cemented the film’s “bad things happening to good people” style of tragedy. I struggle with freeze-frame endings, but I’ll give this one a pass.

Beyond the ending, I really enjoyed this film. It’s a modern, western, buddy flick, cut from the same cloth as “Bonnie and Clyde” or “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”. And while during those two films, you find yourself rooting for the criminal duos because they’re super charming, in this film, Thelma and Louise are both charming and underdogs. This film lays out every way men have mistreated them and screwed up their lives, painting them in a corner where they’ve realized their lost trust in patriarchal systems and must take their fate into their own hands. And while Louise is the metaphorical and literal driver in this story, Thelma is the character who really transforms and self-actualizes—first with a man on her terms, and then without men altogether.

To call out a few last thoughts: Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon were absolutely terrific. The film brilliantly meshes a few different genres, but the one that I bumped into was “Michael Bay action”—scenes with an oil taker explosion and cop cars flipping felt unnecessary and broke up the character drama. Still, Callie Khouri’s script was a brilliant balancing act of character arcs. And, I hate to finish my review on this landmark feminist film by praising its male director, but c’mon: Ridley Scott! I continue to be impressed by the breadth of film genres he can navigate, and the ability of a English man to (generally) depict different characters with honesty and drive.

Week 5; Film 214 - Breathless [1960]

On the run, self-declared asshole and car thief Michel shoots and kills a French policeman. Without money and with few options, he returns to Paris and reconnects with an old-fling, Patricia. Patricia is an American in Paris who is hawking papers for the New York Herald Tribune while she tries to break into journalism. Together in her apartment, Michel spends his time trying to have sex with her, while she is uninterested, ponderous, and morose—eventually sharing that she’s pregnant and that it’s probably Michel’s. He is unfazed, blames her, and continues wanting sex (#classact). Patricia eventually learns that Michel is wanted by the police and must decide what to do. She both admits she’s in love with him, and admits that he’s a bad guy she should not be in love with. A choice is made and someone dies.

“Breathless” is a film by famed French director Jean-Luc Godard and one of the early examples of French New Wave cinema. And I didn’t care for it much at all (last year I watched Godard’s “Contempt”, which I found much more interesting but didn’t care for either). Now on year five of screening films and seeing (or pretending to see) some greater depth in cinema, I clearly still have my limits and biases. And while critics hail this film for its attitude, coolness, jump cuts, and commentary on nihilism, I failed to see profundity, just plainness. Its characters were young and uninteresting, and the film is drained of any suspense. I can appreciate that the film carries a visual style and general attitude, and that it’s part of a movement that would influence the next 50 years of film. But as a story, I didn’t care for it and wouldn’t bother with it again.

Week 4; Film 213 - Air Force One [1997]

The Cold War is over and President of the United States James Marshall attends a state dinner in Moscow. Amidst the now-warm relationship between Russia and the U.S., he warns that the U.S. will not negotiate with terrorists. He and his family then travel to Air Force One, to return home. But once in the air, the plane is hijacked by Kazakh/Soviet loyalists (with the help of a mole in the Secret Service). Led by Egor Korshunov, the loyalists demand that Kazakh General Radek be let out of prison—they threaten to kill an onboard hostage every 30 minutes until he is, and they’re brutally serious. Vice President Kathryn Bennett begins managing the crisis amidst the primary unknown: Where is President Marshall? Ends up, Marshall is still on the plane and begins kicking some terrorist-ass. With his military experience and allies on the ground and in the air, Marshall orchestrates the evacuation of most on the plane, ousts the terrorists, deals with the mole, and must trust in a daring mid-flight rescue. In total, it’s a silly, suspenseful 124 minutes.

There was a lot about the film I wasn’t sold on, but just as much to love. Clearly many of my friends love this film (I got a few angry messages on IG about this, LOL), but I really struggled to suspend my disbelief on this one. The production design, from the way everyone moved on the plane, to the aircraft models, to the primitive CGI finale sequence, just doesn’t hold up. And the character arcs were uninspiring. A President who won’t negotiate with terrorists—until he does—and when that goes wrong, he punches his way out of it. And Glenn Close’s Vice President arc didn’t make sense to me: A nervous leader who slowly finds her bearings managing a crisis, but who still can’t make the right call during a 25th Amendment crisis. Her arc is shot to be inspirational, but to me, it was all wrong. Maybe I’m comparing this “Die Hard” picture to “The West Wing” too much.

Still, as I said, there’s a lot to like. First of all, the film totally moves. I was curious how much plot they could milk out of the all-airplane setting but was impressed with all the ways that drama was built. I stayed interested, the whole flick. I think that keeping the president’s betrayer unknown (to him) until the end was a genius choice and really added to the tension (although, I wish I knew why he defected). Gary Oldman does that Gary Oldman thing where he’s super over the top but weirdly totally sells it. Finally, Jerry Goldsmith’s main themes were top notch. Apparently composed in 12 days, the music is like a test flight of what he did for Soarin’ (in fact, the theme is in the Soarin’ queue). So yeah—a fun, silly action film without a proper character arc.

Week 3; Film 212 - The French Connection [1971]

New York City detectives Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle and Buddy “Cloudy” Russo go out for drinks after a night of roughing up black people for intel. While at the bar, they see a couple of low-level crooks entertaining narcotics mobsters and begin to tail them. A big heroin shipment is rumored to arrive and when the American criminals begin meeting with Frenchman Alain Charnier, Doyle suspects the deal is about to go down. Doyle follows Charnier, who catches on and thwarts Doyle’s pursuit. Charnier then authorizes a hit on Doyle, but it’s unsuccessful and results in a dramatic car-and-train chase across the city. Doyle impounds a vehicle connected to Charnier and police mechanics find $32 million worth of heroin hidden in the car. The detectives return the heroin and wait for the deal to go down. They set up road blocks and chase the criminals back to Wards Island where a shoot-out showdown takes place.

This film played way differently than I thought it would, but I really liked it. Gene Hackman’s “Doyle” was a super-tropey, bad behavior, hunch-driven-and-hungry detective, but his performance works. And the well known, stand-out sequence of the film was the car chase across New York City between an elevated train and a commandeered vehicle. Front fender POV shots and deft cutting between street-level and train-level action worked together to create a dramatically exciting chase. But the shoot-out conclusion to the sequence has your questioning the lengths Doyle will go to. Other than revealing that his hunches have been wrong (and costly) in the past, the film never really addresses Doyle’s unhealthy drive and desire to crack the case, no matter the cost. Ultimately, it’s the semi-unsatisfying ending that elevates this struggle and gives the film credibility. Sure, at the end of the day, our “good guys” win in an exciting fashion. But with critical criminals getting away or getting off early, and our heroes lost to friendly fire or scattered to the wind, was the cost worth it?

Week 2; Film 211 - City Lights [1931]

The Tramp, Charlie Chaplin’s famous character, bumbles around the city. He’s seemingly in everyones way but is affable and unbothered. He encounters a beautiful flower girl, who is blind and assumes the Tramp is wealthy. That night, the Tramp steers a suicidal millionaire away from death and the two spend the night getting drunk and becoming friends. Once sober, the millionaire casts the Tramp out, but another night of drinking will bring them back together. Again cast out on the second morning, the Tramp learns that the flower girl dreams of an operation to let her see, while she and her grandmother are facing eviction. He gets odd jobs, such a street sweeper and boxer, but can’t make the necessary money. Finally, he encounters the millionaire again, who agrees to cover the rent and operation expenses—but not before hijinks make it seem like the Tramp stole the money. He gets it to the flower girl in time, and then goes to jail. Months later, he encounters the flower girl—now with working vision—on the street and the two stare at each other with recognition and admiration.

“City Lights” is now the fourth Chaplin film I’ve watched, and each one was a delight. This film is most notable for being a defiant adherence to the silent-film format, a few years into the rise of the “talkie”. I suppose that’s why its last scene is so famous: Chaplin and Virginia Cherrill say more in longing stares than early talkies must have been saying in speech. Certainly, the romantic arc was the syrupy-sweet highlight of the film. The rest of the film was charming, but clearly patchwork quilt of physical comedy routines stitched together into something resembling a narrative. Which, I suppose is par-for-the-course on a Chaplin film, but when you see how “Modern Times” elevates the formula with social commentary, this film feels more plain. Still, I will always enjoy watching a Tramp film and continue to view Chaplin as one of the great entertainers in cinema.

Week 1; Film 210 - For a Few Dollars More

The ruthless bandit and murderer “El Indio” is busted out from jail by his gang. He quickly organizes his outlaws and plots to steal an unheard of ~$1 million from the Bank of El Paso. Skillful and cunning bounty hunters Manco (not to be confused with Mando) and Colonel Douglass Mortimer each suspect the plot and travel to El Paso to collect the bounty on El Indio. Aiming to keep the bounty for themselves, the two hunters initially try to intimidate each other out of the job. However, they soon realize that teaming up is the best course of action (one from the outside and the other inside, by infiltrating El Indio’s gang). Still, El Indio gets the upper-hand at El Paso. This sends our two anti-heroes on a tension-filled ride to defeat the bandits—one fighting for financial gain and the other, as we learn, for personal satisfaction.

“For a Few Dollars More” is the second film in Sergio Leonne/Clint Eastwood “Man With No Name” or “Dollars” trilogy. Last year I watched the first film, “Fistful of Dollars”, and a few years prior “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” (the third and final flick). So yeah—out of order. But still, the three stories don’t lean on each other, so any order is good. And I think this film might be my favorite of the trilogy. Sure, “Fistful” is a brilliant remake of Kurosawa's “Yojimbo”. And “Good/Bad/Ugly” is so tremendously epic and suspenseful (and features the best, most famous, most fully-developed, over-the-top, and absolutely listenable version of the music). But there was something pure and simple about this film.

This film might have the best characters of the three. Manco was the most fun version of Eastwood’s character and Mortimer was charming. And “El Indio” was slick and cunning, while being one of the most ruthless western villains of all time. And yet, he had this sad yearning (for a woman he raped—let’s not get ahead of ourselves) that weirdly grounded a character. To this end, the “twist” at the end of the film wasn’t a dueling gimmick, but rather a character motivation. And all of this was punctuated by Ennio Morricone’s fantastic score. In particular, a brilliant set piece with a musical watch that manages to grow beyond the diegetic plucking our characters hear, and expands to sweeping underscore for the tension and sadness of the moment. Throw in expanse vistas, gunfights galore, and Leonne’s sense of style and you have an excellent film, and a perfect start to this year.

Week 52; Film 209 - A Trip to the Moon [1902]

In a classroom filled with students and esteemed scholars, a professor announces his plan: he will fly to the moon. Some scholars voice concerns (reminder: airplanes haven't been invented yet...lol), but the professor soon quells their debate. After supervising its construction, the scholars board a bullet-shaped spacecraft and are fired off to the moon. Soaring through space, the bullet crashes right into the eye of the Man on the Moon. The men disembark onto the moon's surface and rest after their long journey. The heavens above watch as they sleep. It begins to snow on the moon. Seeking shelter, they retreat to a moon-cave where they find strange lifeforms. A moon-alien appears and is easily killed. When others appear, they are taken to the moon-leader until he, too, is easily killed. Having outraged the moon-alien race, the men flee back to their spacecraft where they simply tip it over the side of the moon to escape. It falls back to Earth with an alien in tow. Back on Earth, the men are celebrated as conquering heroes.

In advance of its 120th anniversary next year, “A Trip to the Moon” is easily the oldest film I’ve ever watched. You may not have seen it, but I guarantee you that you’ve seen the incredibly famous shot of a bullet-ship crashing into the moon (or the Smashing Pumpkins homage…lol). Though an exaggeration, the film is a fascinating time capsule for both early film and century-old perceptions of space and the moon. It’s widely considered to be one of the first narrative-films and the first science fiction film. And you can tell—with the exception of a few charming, archaic special effects shots, the film is just a camera rolling on an intricate stage play. That’s not an insult. I found it wonderful how effective the film communicated its plot and ideas without sound or intertitles. I could tell the performances were large and comedic, but I didn’t pick up on the extent to which the film is a satire (of both scientific inquiry and imperialism, and how the two intersect).

It’s really hard to categorize films like this into a modern rating system. There is heaps of historic and cinematic value in this 14 minute picture, and it’s awfully cute. While to some degree, I didn’t have the patience for its long takes and fuzzy images, I still found it to be fun and funny. That’s the amazing thing about film—from across the span of a century-and-more, I was entertained by ghosts. As a fan of history and a fan of film, I can’t deny that it’s an incredibly special thing.

Week 51; Film 208 - Meet Me in St. Louis [1944]

It’s 1903 in St. Louis and the city is abuzz with excitement for the upcoming World’s Fair. At the wealthy Smith household, daughter Rose is awaiting a marriage proposal while her sister Esther just wants John, the boy-next-door, to notice her (and maybe even—gasp—kiss her). Also in the family, sisters Agnes and Tootie are mischievous kids, Lon is a mostly irrelevant brother, and Anna and Alonzo are their sweet-and-sour parents. Everything is fine until father Alonzo notifies the family that he is being transferred to New York and this will be the family’s last Christmas in St. Louis. With their romance and fair-going plans destoryed, the family is shattered. With a heavy hearty, the try to button up their time in St. Louis. Alonzo (spoilers!) eventually sees the havoc his transfer is having and chooses to keep the family in St. Louis.

Admittedly, my review leans more heavily on personal preference than filmmaking prowess, but: I could not stand this movie! It’s cloyingly nostalgic and by and large plotless. It was the equivalent of breaking down on the Carousel of Progress after the first scene. The only drama supplied was from the stale “will he, won’t he” teenage romance angle and from father Smith moving the family to New York—something he has the power to reverse (and does). I get it—it was World War II and the public just wanted some nostalgia-laced dessert. It’s the equivalent of a film from today being set in 1980 (and there are plenty of those that do this exact thing!). But I suppose random vignettes of “look how novel the telephone used to be” or “aren’t those kids little devils on Halloween??” just doesn’t land for me. I want a real story. I suppose on a positive note, the production design is pretty intricate and the “The Trolley Song” sequence was kinetic and fun. And Judy Garland’s performance of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” is a classic. But this film is not for me. Blugh!

Week 50; Film 207- Trading Places [1983]

Louis Winthorpe III is a wealthy white man, and the managing director at a commodities brokerage firm. Billy Ray Valentine is a poor, black man hustling on the street. When they bump into each other, Winthorpe wigs out and shrieks that he’s being robbed. Watching the whole thing, brothers Randolph and Mortimer Duke, the owners of the commodities brokerage firm and Winthorpe’s bosses, hatch a plan. You see, Mortimer believes that nature—a man’s genes, his stock, his built-in talents—dictate his successes. But Randolph believes that nurture—a man’s environment, his upbringing, his circumstances—will influence his achievements. The two megalomaniacs choose to test their theory in an experiment by swapping Winthorpe and Valentine. To do this, Valentine is handed Winthorpe’s managing director job and put to work, while Winthorpe is sacked, framed for theft and drug dealing, and put out on the street. Aligning with Randolph’s nurture theory, Valentine does quite well in his new role while Winthorpe absolutely dissolves. But when Valentine overhears the Dukes discussing their wager, he approaches Winthorpe. The two are joined by Ophelia and Coleman, a caring prostitute and Winthorpe’s butler, and together they hatch a plan to take down the crumbly-old, racist Duke brothers.

This is about as much of a Christmas movie as “Die Hard”—but they both put me in a jolly mood, so I’ll permit it!

This film was fantastic and hilarious. It’s a philosophical examination of race and socioeconomic status wrapped in a screwball comedy’s clothes. In some ways, the film is as timely as ever, at home in a modern America that asks questions about equality, equity, justice, race, and the super-rich. Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd are both fantastic and perform this magic trick where they each take turns playing the straight man and the comic. The story is well paced and the script perfectly lays the groundwork for each man’s transformation in a comically-plausible way. And this present is with topped with the bow that is Elmer Bernstein’s musical score, which leverages classical music to sell the out-of-touch, bloated, pomp and circumstance of the wealthy elite.

Though I said the film can be “as timely as ever”, there are ways it doesn’t hold up. Some might be put off by the inclusion of boobs for boob’s sake (#boobsforboobssake). And then the whole train-ride sequence felt out of place for today (it also felt out of place in the film). Dan Ackroyd’s blackface didn’t contribute to the story enough to avoid a cringe, as did the gorilla suit rape antics. This is in contrast to the Duke brother’s use of the n-word, which is important because it shocks you into remembering the brutality of their experiment and that, well, these two quippy, old, white men are the bad guys.

Still, there is enough hilarious, wise, and good about this film for me to adore it. I instantly found a spot for it on my “great comedies” list.

Week 49; Film 206 - Babes in Toyland [1934]

This isn’t the Disney one. Or the made-for-TV one. Or like the musical one...

Toyland is sort of like Duloc, in Shrek—but instead of fairy tale characters, it’s nursery rhyme characters. Bo Peep, the Cat and the Fiddle, the Three Little Pigs, Little Miss Muffet, Jack and Jill, and others from nursery rhymes live in Toyland, along with Stannie Dum and Ollie Dee. Stannie and Ollie are inept toy makers who live with the Peep family. When the wretched Barnaby’s marriage proposal is rejected by Bo-Peep, he threatens the Peeps with the receipt of their past-due mortgage. Stannie and Ollie offer to help, first trying to get a loan from their boss and then trying to sneak into Barnaby’s house, but fail. Finally, they dupe Barnaby into handing over the mortgage documents. Fuming, Barnaby frames the death of a Pig (of the Three Little) on Tom-Tom, Bo-Peep's love interest. Yet again, Ollie and Stannie foil his plans. Banished and in a rage, Barnaby coaxes an army of disgusting Bogeymen to attack Toyland. And—you guessed it, Stannie and Ollie come to its defense. If only there was an army of life-sized toy soldiers hanging around.

Wow. I don’t fully remember how this film got on my list. I think I got a recommendation to watch a Laurel and Hardy comedy. If you’ve ever seen artwork of “old Hollywood”, you’ve probably seen Laurel and Hardy’s images. I also try to load December up with “Holiday movies”. Wikipedia and several other sites list this as a “Christmas/Holiday” film, but I don’t see why—“Die Hard” has more Christmas than this. Other than a brief cameo from Santa Claus (who has outsourced work to the Toy Maker), this film doesn’t refer to the holiday.

Instead, the film has more of a “proto-Wizard of Oz” production design. Except, instead of being one of the cinematic classics, this one is an absolute mess. The nursery rhyme characters are seemingly more shallow or uninteresting than they are in their nursery rhymes. Barnaby’s “evil menace routine” felt like a high school drama class’s idea of evil. And the comedy—that was the most disappointing part for me. I chuckled a few times, but in general, I found myself bored with Laurel and Hardy’s antics. Sure, they are the forefathers to some of the best “two dumb guys” comedy pairs—Bill and Ted, Dumb & Dumber, Kenan & Kel, Jay & Silent Bob, etc.—but I just didn’t find their “oversized child” routine to be that funny. I can’t figure out why Chaplin’s comedy breaks-through for me, but other comedy acts from this era annoy me. No clue.

Anyway, the “March of the Toy Soldiers” stop motion animation act was pretty cool. But the actual-monkey dressed up as Mickey Mouse (in a costume that sealed its face into a mask) was terrifying and sad…kind of like the film.

Week 48; Film 205 - Only Yesterday [1991]

Taeko Okajima is a 27 year old woman living and working in Tokyo. Looking for calm, escape, and connection to nature (and yet a way to stay busy), her ideal vacation is to travel to her sister’s in-laws’ farm in the countryside and help them harvest safflowers. She takes the train and is picked up by her brother-in-law’s second cousin Toshio, who takes her to the family. Throughout the journey and during her time on the farm, Taeko is constantly having flashbacks to her life as a schoolgirl—memories of early flirtations, learning about her period, having difficulty with math, performing in the school play, or the first and only time her father struck her, among a few others. In between picking safflowers, she joins Toshio for a few excursions where they talk about agriculture and the past. Pondering about her past, present, and future, Taeko is clearly yearning for something but is unsure of what. When Taeko’s farm relatives suggest that she stay and live on the farm, and marry Toshio, Taeko is forced to confront feelings of who she is and what she wants out of life.

“Only Yesterday” is an absolutely gorgeous animated film, produced by famed Japanese animation company Studio Ghibli. While less fantastical than other Studio Ghibli films I’ve seen, I was really taken by how stunning the animation was. It is also a very adult, ponderous film (not in a racy kind of way, but in weighty themes). The film steeps in the theme of transition, or undergoing difficult/painful/uncomfortable transformation to become something new. Taeko reflects on the journey of a butterfly, or the process of mashing safflower petals into dye—and this sort of builds the framework for the transitions she underwent, like puberty, or learning that she wasn’t considered “normal”. And it’s through this context that we see that Taeko doesn’t seem to be very passionate about where she’s landed in life. To what extend, I’m not fully sure. I think it was sometimes difficult to stay in step with Taeko’s point of view due to cultural and gender differences. For example, throughout the film, she shares no “romantic” encounters or flirtations with Toshio and yet it is suggested that she’s seriously considering a marriage arrangement. With this accessibility gap, I sometimes found the film slow. But I’m really pleased to have gone on the journey. And I still want to move to Japan.

Week 47; Film 204 - The Royal Tenenbaums [2001]

The Tenenbaum children are exceptional—Chas is a young business genius, Margot is an accomplished playwright, and Richie is a tennis prodigy. Their parents, Royal and Etheline, separate.

Flash forward 22 years, and the Tenenbaums are in disarray. Royal is evicted from the hotel where he lives. Chas lost his wife in an accident and has become fearful and obsessive. Margot sulks in a loveless marriage. Richie had an on-court meltdown and lives on a cruise ship. And Etheline—who is newly engaged to accountant Henry Sherman and is doing rather well—inherits everyones problems when each Tenenbaum moves back home for various reasons. Stuck together for the first time in years, the estranged family’s anxieties, rage, and love bubbles to the surface. Each person must confront the feelings they’ve carried for decades and in a silly story about repair, reawakening, and redemption.

I really liked this film. It was witty, charming, awkward, and styled all—well, Wes Andersony. In addition to the visuals, I love Anderson’s pacing. It’s hard to explain, but when he wants the film to move, it moves. And when he wants you to live in a moment, you just steep in it for a bit. The cast was naturally top notch, with the obvious props going to Gene Hackman’s Royal. I wasn’t always “laughing out out” (although I did), but the film’s comedy is the kind you just find yourself smirking at. I really how the film plays with ‘peaking in your childhood’. As a millennial and as a pessimist, the notion that your best days are behind you is resonant and gives the film wings. Yet as a pragmatist and someone nostalgic for connection, the message of trusting your gut and leaning on your family (even if they’ve pained you) to find some semblance of peace was up-lifting. And as someone who knows he has the capacity to be a jerk (sometimes?), Royal’s redemption arc was strangely assuring. My favorite line?:

“I’ve always been considered an asshole for about as long as I can remember. That’s just my style. But I’d feel really blue if I didn’t think you were going to forgive me.”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole, Royal. I just think you’re kind of a son of a bitch.”

“Well, I really appreciate that.”

Week 46; Film 203 - In the Mood for Love [2000]

It’s 1962 British Hong Kong and we open on Su Li-zhen securing a room rental for her and her husband. Moments later, Chow Mo-wan rents the room next door for him and his wife. We see snap-shots of Su and Chow in their respective apartments—each having to explain to their neighbors why their spouse never seems to be around. Long hours at work. Business trips. Sick parents. Su and Chow notice each other, but interact minimally. But curious and suspicious, they eventually go out for coffee. Asking questions about each other’s partner, their suspicions are confirmed: their spouses are having an affair with each other. Su and Chow commiserate together. They talk about how this could have happened. They act out their imagined dialogue. While waiting for their spouses to get home from abroad, the two dine together. No one understands their pain like the other does. And then something happens—in their loneliness, in their dialogue, and in their mutual burden, Su and Chow begin to develop feelings for each other. The two wrestle with an emotional affair. Each was hurt by their partner, but does acting on this love make them no better than their adulterous spouses? Oh what to do.

Wow. I am often asked how I pick my films, and one of my main sources is 'interesting films I see on CineFix movie lists', on YouTube. And boy do they mention this one a lot! And I get why—this was a fantastic, lonely, heartbreaking, beautiful, tragic romance film by filmmaker Wong Kar-wai. Maggie Cheung and Tony Leung (yes, the man you just saw as Shang-Chi’s ring-wearing father) were brilliant. I think if this film were made in America, it would resolve in some romantic or sexual embrace. But (spoilers) we are denied that here, leaving only the anguish carried by our actors' faces to portray these complex feelings. The film is shot claustrophobically, creating this sense of loneliness amidst crowded conditions. It charges forward from scene to scene, cutting out unnecessary detail as one might when remembering the specifics of past love. And the soundtrack is fantastic, with latin crooning and the melancholy waltz “Yumeji’s Theme” underscoring all of the unexpressed rage and passion-left-unspoken in stunning, out-of-time sequences.

This film isn’t about Hollywood-endings, neither ecstatic nor soap opera-tragic. It’s about reflecting on everything left unsaid, remembering or misremembering the past, trying to make sense of the pieces we do not see, and wondering “what-if”. Anyone who has ever loved and lost, who is patient with non-American film, will immediately sense the soul of this story.

Week 45; Film 202 - The Terminator [1984]

You know the story. It’s 1984 Los Angeles and a completely jacked male figure appears in a ball of lightning. The figure steals clothes and weapons, and then begins systematically killing off women named Sarah Connor. A second being, the tough but a little worse for wear Kyle Reese, also materializes in LA. He arrives just in time to save Sarah J Connor from the muscly menace. On the run, he explains that the assassin is a cyborg, called a Terminator, who has time traveled from the future to kill Sarah. In the future, a nuclear apocalypse has put machines in charge, but Sarah’s son would go on to lead humanity in rebellion—hence why cyborg gym-bro is trying to kill her. The Terminator pursues the two humans, overwhelming law enforcement and leaving destruction in his wake. Sarah must find the strength to carry a burden she didn’t ask for and defeat the super-human monster.

So yeah, I haven’t seen this one—but I have seen Terminator 2: Judgement Day, which I think is an excellent film, so it was interesting to go back and start the series. Knowing the story, I didn’t think there would be enough “meat” to carry the film, but the flick works really well as a chase/monster movie. This film is Jaws with a robot. It works because we get to see Sarah grow, grieve, love, and self-actualize throughout the film, in between pockets of really sweet action sequences. Knowing the Sarah Conner of T2, I thought Linda Hamilton did a great job of playing innocent and naive without being whiny or—Willie Scott in Temple of Doom (released the same year). Perhaps some of the stop-motion effects are showing their age, and I thought the “love story” was a little rushed, convenient, and a little Stockholm syndrome-y. But you know what—I’m willing to look past all that and enjoy this film as a perfectly awesome popcorn flick and a great start to a new franchise/lore. I think that Jimmy Cameron will go on to make some good movies.