Showing posts with label Alfred Hitchcock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alfred Hitchcock. Show all posts

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Another Roundup


It's that time again. Another slew of films that I haven't the time to give proper reviews, but still deserve recognition (or in some cases, warning).


Psycho (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1960, USA, #32 TSPDT)

It's good... but not great. I have no reason not to like this film; it's taut, efficiently elliptical, surprising, and best of all, stabby :-) I certainly don't regret watching it, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy myself. Perhaps my expectations were simply too high. C'est la vie.


La Dolce Vita (dir. Federico Fellini, 1953, Italy, #26 TSPDT)

Far from being a Fellini evangelist, I still find myself forced to highly recommend La Dolce Vita, the film that gave the world the term "paparazzi." It may have been one of the first widely viewed pictures to break from the traditional narrative form. It's essentially a series of unrelated episodes from the main character's life in Rome, which basically chart the struggle between his dreams as a writer and the temptations of "the sweet life." The vignette with the Madonna sighting permanently etched itself into my memory.



The Brother's Grimm (dir. Terry Gilliam, 2005, USA)

It's hard to believe that this was made by the same person that gave us Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Brazil, 12 Monkeys, and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Grimm is so scattered and grotesquely edited that it's unwatchable.



The Apartment (dir. Billy Wilder, 1960, USA, #55 TSPDT)

Mildly entertaining, predictably crowd-pleasing, I had a hard time understanding why this inconsequential romance ranked so highly on TSPDT's list. For me, Jack Lemmon's hilarious performance didn't make up for the film's otherwise mediocrity.



Vampyr (dir. Carl Theodore Dreyer, 1931, France/Germany, #183 TSPDT)

Although the plot is nothing to write home about it, the film's amazing special effects and Dreyer's pioneering cinematography (at times, more daring than the spatial invasions of Ordet) made the small time investiture more than worthwhile.



Belle De Jour (dir. Luis Bunuel, 1967, France, #140 TSPDT)

What I found most enticing about this erotica - about a rich young housewife who lives out her sado-masochistic fantasies by taking up an afternoon residency at a local brothel - was how decidedly unerotic it was.



Badlands (dir. Terrence Malick, 1974, USA, #140 TSPDT)

Terrence Mallick's directorial debut is perfectly pitched, from beginning to end, in one of the most bizarre dream-like killing sprees ever committed to film. A young Martin Sheen and a (very) young Sissy Spacek effortlessly match each other's disturbingly likable insanity. We also hear Mallick's signature approach to voice-over narration in its infancy.



The 400 Blows (dir. Francis Truffaut , 1959, France, #44 TSPDT)

As we watch the harsh realities of Truffaut's early life unfold on the screen, it's easy to see why he made a great writer/filmmaker. His childhood alone gave him enough raw material for several lifetimes of creation. I also realized that Woody Allen parodied this film's soundtrack in the childhood flashback's of his first film, Take the Money and Run.



The Thing (dir. John Carpenter, 1982, USA)

When I was young, my grandpa loved to take me to the local video store and let me pick out all of the films that my mother would never allow. We typically browsed the horror titles, and at a very early age, I was exposed to some of the most awesomely idiotic horror films ever made (Motel Hell and Rawhead Rex were some of the more memorable). Interspersed between those films were some occasional gems, and at some point we landed on John Carpenter's The Thing. About a remote Antarctic station's encounter with an alien, it's a rarity in sci-fi: a film that caters both to my love of science fiction and my desire for masterful filmmaking. Upon revisiting it over the winter break, I realized why the film's final shot had stayed with me all of these years. Oh, and Kurt Russell still kicks ass.

Read more...

Facebook Digg Technorati del.icio.us Stumbleupon Reddit Yahoo

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

End of year roundup


The new year promises to be a busy one for me, and unfortunately there's several films I've seen recently that I won't have time to do justice with a thoughtful review. So... to hell with thoughtfulness! Here's some absurdly incomplete mini-reviews:


Casablanca (dir. Michael Curtiz, 1942, USA)
It's all too easy living here in America to turn our heads and ignore the world's misery. But was it possible during WWII? Bogey tried, and might have succeeded had the tragically beautiful Ingrid Bergman not stepped in. We all know that war brings out the worst in humanity; Casablanca reminds us that in some cases, it also brings out the best in us.



Pride & Prejudice (dir. Joe Wright, 2005, UK)
Yes, I watch "normal" film too. This stellar adaptation, though not necessarily critically underrated, sadly failed to step out of the long shadow cast by the wildly popular BBC miniseries version of 10 years prior (starring Colin Firth). It's all the more tragic, as the performances in this film are impeccable, and though I've yet to see much range from Keira Knightley, her proud and outspoken attitude feels perfectly suited for her character, Elizabeth Bennet. Jane Austen was the greatest social satirist of her day, and this film is one of the few that does her justice.



Ugetsu Monogatari (dir. Kenji Mizoguchi, 1953, Japan)
Everyone knows the Japanese film-maker Akira Kurosawa, but how many have seen the films of his contemporary Kenzi Mizoguchi? His films didn't receive the international attention that Kurosawa's did, and only recently have western audiences gained access to them. Ugetsu Monogatari is based on an old Japanese morality tale from the 1700's; it depicts the folly of war profiteering, and in a way could be construed as a warning to the peasantry not to try to rise above their station. Ugetsu is aesthetically stunning, with a photographic prowess surpassing Kurosawa's films made around the same time. The story kept me mildly entertained, even if the philosophical thrust found little resonance.


Oldboy (dir. Park Chan-wook, 2003, South Korea)
A twisted tale of revenge that vacillates between psychological thriller and bilious gore. Many find in this film the philosophical antithesis of the conventional good guy / bad guy revenge flick; for me, the entire premise is so outlandish and twisted that I think it's overreaching to attempt to extrapolate any grand statements about life or the human existence. But who cares? It's an engaging story, well-told, cleverly photographed.


Vertigo (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1958, USA)
This might be #2 on TSPDT's 1000 greatest films list, but it's not even close on my list. Kim Novak's performance was frighteningly lackluster, and the film itself showed none of the narrative innovation or audacious brilliance of Hitchcock's superior "Rear Window." The only intriguing relationship in the film, that between Jimmy Stewart's character and his friend and one-time lover "Midge", played by Barbara Bel Geddes, seems to have been all but forgotten on the cutting room floor.


Once Upon a Time in the West (dir. Sergio Leone, 1968, Italy)
You might think from reading this blog that I have nothing to do but watch film, but truthfully, I value my time, and if a film doesn't grab me within the first, say, 20 minutes, then I'll find something better to do. Once Upon a Time in the West is just such a film; since I haven't seen it all the way through, I'll withhold judgment, and only say that in terms of my present taste in film, this one isn't for me. Of course, I'm probably in the minority on this; a lot of people regard this the greatest western ever made.


Also, to recap the films I have reviewed in the first two months of my blog:

Read more...

Facebook Digg Technorati del.icio.us Stumbleupon Reddit Yahoo