I don't really have a favorite genre of film. When I describe what kind of film I like, I generally tell people, "I like them either really smart, or really dumb." But, I do have to admit that very few movies can grab my attention like a really smart horror film. The problem being that this is an incredibly rare breed.
Alien is a part of that breed. Ridley Scott directed Alien in 1979 and made many stylistic choices atypical of your usual science fiction and horror film to push it a cut above the standard B-movie fare this could easily have become.
First, we have the alien itself. Its not some random creature which happens to attack our crew. Over the course of the movie we get to see it in great detail, while not actually "seeing" it for a large chunk of time in the film. We know about its biology, its life cycle, its temperament. We know that we essentially have an ultra-adaptable parasite with a temperament free of anything even remotely resembling a conscience. We don't see the final stage of the alien itself in all its glory for a long ways into the movie. This is a tried and true horror method of building up fear and suspense, but by the time we do finally see it, we are all the more terrified of it knowing where it came from, what it can do to us, and how it grows and develops.
Secondly, we have the crew itself. This isn't a group of gung-ho space army types, or prisoners or any of the long list of your usual bad ass heroes in heroines found in science fiction. These are essentially "truckers in space." We know these people. We talk with them and work with them every day. They argue about pay shares. They complain when asked to anything outside of what is specifically in their contract. They have a certain cameraderie while remembering that at the end of the day they have to look out for number one. And, when the crisis hits, they aren't action heroes who immediately know what to do. They fumble, they panic, but unlike typical horror panic, they still buckle down and do what it is they have to without completely freaking out.
One particularly brilliant choice made about our crew, is that there is no one stand-out hero. Everyone knows today, of course, that that position falls to Ripley. But, watching the film for the first time you have no idea that that would ultimately be the case. The more obvious choice at the start, in fact, would appear to be Dallas, or perhaps Ash. This is truly an ensemble, an ensemble you begin to like and appreciate each for their own separate qualities, and that is what makes it all the more horrific when each member of this ensemble is taken down one by one.
I saw somewhere that Ridley Scott had his actors ad-lib quite a few of the scenes, in particular the scene around the dinner table right after the captain is killed. I used to think that these scenes were examples of incredible acting, but now I know that they are examples of great directing. The actors don't know what they are going to say next, whose turn it is to speak. This makes the sense of real horror all the more real as the cast itself is fighting for screen time while also trying to make the conversation seem natural. It doesn't end up looking entirely natural, but it certainly does look like a group of people panicking and unsure what to do next.
Alien is not a completely original film. All the tricks pulled have been done before. But rarely have they all been used in one film, and never before or since had they been better done. Its truly a smart horror film that can evoke empathy, terror, and suspense without resorting to cheap tricks (too often, anyway) and stupid throw away characters and scenes. Alien does exactly that, and that's what makes it the best horror film of all time.
"Whenever he says *anything* you say "right," Brett, you know that?" "Right." "Parker, what do you think? Your staff just follows you around and says "right". Just like a regular parrot." "[laughs] Yeah, shape up. What are you some kind of parrot?" "Right."
After the success of the Poseiden Adventure and The Towering Inferno, the 1970s brought us a slew of overly melodramatic disaster pictures, each one more ridiculous than the last. In 1980, there came a movie which would more or less put an end to all that crap.
Airplane! was the brainchild of Jim Abrahams and David Zucker, founding members of the Kentucky Fried Theater. This was their second film, and it was to be a film that would change the way comedies were made, for better or for worse.
I won't go into great detail about the plot of the film, since the plot is largely unimportant, and if you haven't seen the film, yet, then I have no idea why the heck you're reading a blog devoted primarily to film in the first place. What this film did first, did best, and which many imitators haven't quite able to capture (excepting perhaps Zucker & Abraham's third film - The Naked Gun) is perfectly mix satire with a never ending onslaught of sight gags, puns, double entendres, and literal humor.
The brilliance of this film is the fact that it never lets up for even a moment. The jokes come at a furious pace and often many at a time, its a film that almost demands several rewatches to catch all the gags that are thrown at you. Often, if you pay attention to what's happening in the foreground, you'll be missing the joke the film makers are throwing at you in the background.
What the many imitators of Airplane! have missed, however, is that its not just a movie about sight gags, fart jokes, and overly literal speeches, its also a satire of a genre that hits right on the mark. The comedy works because the actors play everything so seriously. As ridiculous plot twist after plot twist, the actors never crack a smile, they never wink at you to say this is all just a joke. No, Shirley, this is serious.
Its easy to make someone think or cry, to make someone laugh, however is such a subjective thing to do that its nearly impossible to make a comedy which appeals to everyone. This film very nearly accomplishes that incredible feat, and invents an entirely new subgenre of comedy in the process. While I don't think this is the greatest comedy of all time, it is perhaps the most ostentatious, the most accessible, and has the most constant laugh per second ratio of any film ever made. That's what gives it a spot as one of the greats.
"My orders came through. My squadron ships out tomorrow. We're bombing the storage depots at Daiquiri at 1800 hours. We're coming in from the north, below their radar." "When will you be back?" "I can't tell you that. It's classified."
When I first saw After Hours I was in high school. It had been recommended to me by a friend of mine, and I remember after viewing the end and shutting off the VCR and the TV that I wasn't sure exactly what I had just seen, but that it had been something special.
I watched it many more times after that, and appreciated it more and more with each viewing. The absurdism, the dark comedy, the claustrophobia, and the cast of insane characters all appealed to me more and more. I didn't know at the time exactly who Martin Scorsese was, though I knew the name, and now as I have grown older and turned into a film afficianado, now that I know that Scorsese is the director who made Raging Bull, Gangs of New York, Taxi Driver, and Goodfellas, many would probably find it odd that I pick this film - one of his two attempts at comedy - as his masterpiece.
Scorsese is known for his films about New York. All his films, in fact, are in one way or another about his relationship with the city of New York. After Hours is a film about a man just trying to make his way home after a bad meet-up with a woman he ran into in a coffee shop. On the way to meet her, all his money (a $20 bill) flies out the window of the taxi cab, and after it turns out his date is a psychotic and he runs away as fast as he can, his night turns into a Dark Comedy of Errors as he just tries to get back home. By the end of the evening he is being hunted down by an angry ex-boyfriend, a cab driver, 3 jilted women, and a vigilante mob which thinks he is responsible for robberies occurring in the neighborhood.
The way the film is shot gives a true feeling of claustrophobia even when Paul (our "hero") is on the streets. Dive bars, lofts, punk clubs, and small diners are the major set pieces used, but even when the scene turns to a wide open street corner or the dance floor of a club the angles and zooms make it seem as if the world is closing in on Paul. He wants to get home, he wants to run, but with every step he just becomes more and more trapped.
How did I know, even as long ago as high school, that I would relate so well to Paul's plight? The man is not a saint, not by a long shot, but he does nothing to deserve the treatment he gets in this film. He makes mistakes, that's for sure, but every mistake doesn't just set him back, it ruins him. The most minor of slips ends up becoming an insurmountable obstacle. His money flies out the window of the cab? The same cab driver shows up later to take all his money from him when he finally gets his hands on some. He meets a bartender who is willing to do him an act of charity in return for going to check on the bartender's apartment? He is hunted by a vigilante mob who assumes he must be a burglar since they don't recognize him coming out of the bartender's apartment. He leaves a girl on a date who turns out to be a raving lunatic when she seemed nice enough at their first meeting? The girl kills herself, and this girl just happens to be the girlfriend of the bartender who offered him charity. And so on.
I feel like this most of the time. It seems every good deed I do, if not ignored entirely, actually comes back to bite me, while my mistakes come back and bite me far harder than it seems they should in a reasonable world. In one scene, one of the few scenes where the claustrophobic camera pulls back from our hero, we see Paul screaming to God in the sky, "What do you want from me?!" To this, I can very much relate.
Even in high school, it seemed as if some part of me must have known that my life was destined to be taken up by late nights, insane women, and harsh punishment for every little misstep, and often even for acts of kindness. Paul. I feel your pain. But, in addition to that, you're able to make me look at my own life and laugh. Its just one person in an insane world. Even when that person is myself, I can look at Paul and see that taking things too seriously will only make it worse.
And for that, Paul, and Mister Scorsese, I thank you.
Paul: (after witnessing a murder through a window) "I'll probably get blamed for that."
In 2003 Roger Ebert published a book called simply, The Great Movies. I admire Ebert quite a bit. Not because I agree with him on everything he says, far from it, but because he is a witty writer who is excellent at getting across his points. I've been reading this book again lately, and its inspired me to start my own list of "Great Movies." First, though, I have to define exactly what a great movie is. Its not just one I enjoy. I love Buckaroo Banzai, and I would put Runaway Train as one of my top 5 movies of all time, but neither of those will likely make this list. No, a "Great Movie" has to be one that inspired me in some way. Something that made me see the world in a different light, or one that opened my eyes to a subject in a way I never thought before, or perhaps inspired a bit of writing.
So, I will start using Ebert's list as a jumping off point, then fill in the blanks with my own films, and looking at his list, mine will be quite, quite different.
The films we will share on our lists: All About Eve Apocalypse Now Casablanca Chinatown Citizen Kane Do the Right Thing Double Indemnity Dr. Strangelove Fargo Hoop Dreams The Lady Eve M The Maltese Falcon McCabe and Mrs. Miller Network The Seven Samurai The Shawshank Redemption Star Wars Vertigo The Wild Bunch
So, we agree on 20 out of 100. A good start. Now to begin my own list.
After Hours Airplane! Alien All the King's Men Back to the Future Barton Fink Blade Runner Blazing Saddles Brazil A Clockwork Orange Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Ghostbusters Jaws The Life of Brian The Lord of the Rings (the trilogy as one entry) The Manchurian Candidate Once Upon a Time in America Once Upon a Time in the West Princess Mononoke Raiders of the Lost Ark Ran Rear Window Reservoir Dogs Robocop Sullivan's Travels The Terminator This is Spinal Tap Unforgiven Young Frankenstein
And, that makes a good start with 50 films to write about. Yes, that is my project for the next few months. I am going to write about my own great movies, and probably make some commentary on why a few standards have been left off of my own list, as well as commentary on movies I really truly love, but just can't call great for some reason or another. Let's start with one of those.
Honorable mention but just didn't cut the mustard.
Runaway Train
When asked what my favorite films of all time are, I always list this one. Often, I'll say it is my favorite. I love the themes it explores, I love the dialogue, the characters, the intensity, there really is nothing shoddy about this film. My contention with calling it one of the greats, however, is that while everything about it is great, there is very little that is new or inspiring. Its exploration of faith has been done before, and when more focused has been done better. There is nary a bad performance in the film, but only Voight's is truly stand-out, and while the script works as I don't think the writer intended the dialogue to be realistic it also does tend to get preachy and hammy.
Why do I list it as a personal favorite, then? I just love this film. I like hamminess, the issue of faith has always been a very personal one to me and I love the way the movie looks at it in all its aspects whether it be faith in God, in man, in technology, or in one's self. Its intense, it isn't pat, it isn't an easy film to watch and decipher. But, it also isn't for everyone, and I recognize that.
That's enough said about a film that didn't quite cut the mustard. Next time we start in with After Hours, a film I'm sure will raise quite a few eyebrows as to appearing on this list.
The roller coaster is going a little off kilter. Oh, the ride continues to be fun, but when I take in my surroundings, I do worry a little that it has the chance of falling off the tracks. I think the thing that I find the most interesting about this situation, though, is that the part of me that wants to stop the ride is being shunted to the rear and that part that's just telling me to enjoy the ride while it lasts and worry about the consequences later is the one that's taking charge.
Since Sunday, I have pissed off a friend of mine to the point that he walked out on me at the bar, pissed off the girl I've mentioned cryptically in previous posts, and very nearly had an affair with a married woman that was stopped at the last minute only by an attack of conscience on both our parts. While all of this was exciting, the thing that's the most odd to me is the fact that I think all of these things are great. I'm loving it. I'm loving the ride.
I stood up to a guy who thinks of himself as the all-knowing "alpha dog" and told him "I know you're trying to give good advice, but from what I know of your history why the hell should I listen to you?"
I got an emotional response out of a woman who has been anything but emotional with me lately. It wasn't the best of responses, I'll grant, but I know damn well she's thinking of me now.
And, I got to make out with a gorgeous woman that any guy would go for in a second, be told by her that I was "the sexiest thing she'd ever seen," and was told that she couldn't go back to my place with me because she "wouldn't be able to control herself and she loves her husband" (that's the PG version) and then she still tried to make excuses why it would be okay to come back to my place with me. How great of an ego boost is that?
So, let's sum up. I lost (at least temporarily) a friend due to pushing all the wrong buttons, made the woman I'm most interested in upset to the point where she left without telling me goodbye (and making a point of it by telling everyone else goodbye while I was standing next to her), and very nearly compromised morals I once upon a time vowed I would never compromise - and I'm loving every minute of it.
I guess the self confidence I've been working on is finally kicking into full gear. My friend will eventually forgive me, though it may take months. The girl will get over it, and now she'll be thinking about me and she knows where I stand. And my moral slip is nothing more than an ego boost. Hell, I got her number and I know where she works, so I have a chance to get another one if things start slipping.
But, I wouldn't be writing this if I wasn't scared of it just a little bit. The part that's enjoying the ride is in control, but the one that's saying I should get off is still there. Have I created a monster? While this new me is definitely getting results, is it at the expense of the things that made people like the old me?
Shaun
"Cal: You know what's a fun game? Take 3 Excedrin PM's and see if you can whack off before you fall asleep. You always win, that's the best part about the game."
I've always been a sucker for films in which a comedian takes on a more serious role. The Truman Show and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind are the only two films by Jim Carrey which I absolutely love, and I loathed Adam Sandler until I saw Punch Drunk Love. Now, in Stranger Than Fiction its Will Ferrel's turn as Harold Crick, a fictional character who isn't really fictional at all, yet realizes he is the main character in a story when he begins hearing the voice of a narrator following his every action. The movie really starts in earnest when this same narrator announces that his death is imminent.
As an actor and writer myself, I can say that comedy is far harder to pull of than drama. Making someone cry or think is easy. Laughter? That's hard. And perhaps, this is why I love it so much when comedic actors whom I generally don't appreciate make their break into more dramatic roles. They've already done the hard part, after all, doing a drama is a sort of paid vacation for them. And, Will Ferrel does not disappoint.
Stranger than Fiction particularly appeals to the writer in me, for obvious reasons. While the majority of the film is studying the main character of our story, and making a statement about fate vs. free will, we also have a large subplot involving the writer of said story (played by Emma Thompson) and her battle with writer's block and her morbid attempts to get over it including a visit to the hospital where she realizes that seeing sick people who are going to get better can't help, she has to see the dying people that have absolutely no hope of getting better. I very much relate to this sentiment, as I have to admit that there is a part of me that seeks out the negative since it is, after all, more dramatic, and I found myself being drawn in to this character's mind set very much, while also being repelled simultaneously.
Stranger than Fiction is an unusual film with some fantastic performances and some thought provoking ideas. And, while I feel it copped out more than a little on the ending, I still highly recommend it. Here's one more scene from the film I'd like to share with you.
On a more personal note, my own drama continues. The first thing she said when I saw her at the bar tonight was that she was free this Saturday. Not being an idiot, I immediately asked her out. She said yes, but then also immediately gave herself an excuse to get out of it if she chooses. Part of me is wondering if she's really worth pursuing, but there is something about her I can't, and don't want to resist. When I said goodbye, she told me she would call me Saturday without any prompting from me, so I'm crossing my fingers that that's a good sign. Keep your fingers crossed for me, as well.
Shaun
"Me I just enjoy making things up. Yessah escape. Its when I can't write I can't escape myself, I want to rip my head off and run screaming down the street with my balls in a fruit pickers pail."
Well, life is back to normal for me. Meaning, that I dared attempt to be happy for a little bit and the universe decided to put me back in my place and continue the cosmic joke which is me. I was going to write one of my venting, whiny blogs about it, but I just found a website that will do it quite well for me while injecting a bit of humor. So, here goes.
