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Richard Doyle's
MOVIE MADNESS
Waking Life (Richard Linklater,
2001).
Harkening
back to Slacker, Linklater's groundbreaking
animated meditation on life and dreaming follows Wiley Wiggins as he encounters
discussions about dreams and the meaning of life through what may be his
own dreamscape. The animation is the real star here. The film was shot
on digital video and animated from the final cut using a new computer
driven rotoscoping process. Intellectuals (Robert C. Solomon, Eamonn Healey),
actors (Ethan Hawke, July Delpy, Adam Goldberg, Nicky Katt), cult figures
(Steven Prince) and Linklater himself all appear as basically themselves,
expounding upon the profound, the banal, and life's mysteries. A bit hard
on the eyes at first, but dazzling when you get used to the shifting,
stuttering style of much of the animation.
Raiders of the Lost Ark
(Steven Spielberg, 1981).
Spielberg's
admittedly fun updating of Saturday afternoon serials does not stand up
that well 20 years later. Rife with plot holes and outright ludicrous
plot developments (Nazis in Egypt in 1936???), it's best enjoyed with
one's brain in neutral. The once stunning action set-pieces now seem predictable
and dependent on implausible chains of events. Still, it's a very well-made
B movie that succeeds in not taking itself too seriously most of the time.
Harrison Ford is wonderful in his star-making performance, and Karen Allen
is the only woman to ever play an appealing part in the whole series.
Vastly overrated in my books.
Lethal Weapon
(Richard Donner, 1987).
The only interesting film in the series. Despite Donner's
signature lack of style, this one entertains with its middle-of-the-road
mix of humour, action and violence. Mel Gibson's character here is still
quite edgy, and Gary Busey plays an effective villain. The plot is ridiculous
(the villains attempt to conceal their criminal behaviour by blowing up
an entire house just to knock off a hooker), but it still can be enjoyed
if one turns off one's better judgement. Most importantly, Joe Pesci is
nowhere to be seen.
The Interview (Craig
Monahan, 1998).
Hugo Weaving stars as a man snatched from his apartment
by the police and interrogated about a stolen car. Eventually, the topic
of the interrogation turns to a missing person and a case of serial murder.
Meanwhile, others are monitoring the cop conducting the interview in an
effort to catch him breaking the law. This twisty, original thriller features
great performances from Weaving and Tony Martin as the cop. Some of the
twists are predictable, but the dialogue and performances make it well
worth your while. Unfortunately, the ending is a bit abrupt, leading me
to think that Monahan was unsure how to end the story.
High Noon (Fred
Zinnemann, 1952).
A
wonderful and innovative western. The story unfolds in approximately real
time (the time elapsed in the story is the length of the film, but Zinnemann
manipulates time inside the story to heighten suspense), and repeated
shots of train tracks and ticking clocks skilfully create tension by anticipating
the arrival of the outlaw Frank Miller. The look of the film is gritty
and spare and the script remains focused on the action that drives the
plot, anticipating the westerns of the 60s that would revolutionize the
genre. Gary Cooper's performance is extremely subdued, and the supporting
work by Grace Kelly, Thomas Mitchell, Lloyd Bridges, Katy Jurado, Otto
Kruger, Lon Chaney, Jr. and Harry Morgan is uniformly excellent. Lee Van
Cleef appears in his first role, but has no dialogue.
Jay and Silent Bob Strike
Back (Kevin Smith, 2001).
The
fifth film in Smith's New Jersey series is more like the Clerks
animated series than any of the other films in the series. Extremely profane
and low-brow, but dense with clever reference to films, television and
comic books, the film doesn't work all the time, but when it does work,
it is extremely funny. Surprisingly, Jason Mewes has improved as an actor
and successfully carries the film in the lead role. Smith is quite funny
despite his lack of any real lines in the film. There are dozens of celebrity
cameos, which are clever and funny. Major characters from the earlier
films appear (Jason Lee appears as two different characters, and Ben Affleck
appears as his character from Chasing Amy and
as himself), and fans of the whole series will find dozens of cross-references.
Fort Apache
(John Ford, 1948).
Ford's
atypical western stars Henry Fonda as the new commanding officer of a
remote outpost bordering Apache land. Fonda is unhappy with the assignment,
which he considers a demotion, and his firm, unyielding style clashes
with the informal atmosphere of the post. John Wayne plays Captain Kirby
York, an experienced frontier officer who clashes with Fonda over the
treatment of the Apaches. Fonda's rigidity, snobbery, and desire for glory
leads to a foolhardy confrontation with the Apaches. Fonda's performance
in a role that is unusual for him is outstanding. Wayne, on the other
hand, has very little to do. The picture really belongs to the members
of Ford's support company - Ward Bond, Victor McLaglen, Anna Lee, and
others. Most of the film focuses on the details of life at this remote
outpost, and does a good job of painting a picture of a life devoted to
military service. A romantic subplot involving Shirley Temple, as Fonda's
daughter, and John Agar (who she would later marry in real life), the
son of Irish NCO Ward Bond, is unworthy of the rest of the movie, but
does lead to an interesting scene between Fonda and Bond that deals with
issues of military protocol, domestic duties, and class conflict. Ford's
view of the climactic battle with the Apaches is interestingly complex,
offsetting Fonda's foolish decision with considerations of duty and tradition.
Die Hard (John
McTiernan, 1988)
The
film that made Bruce Willis a film star and inaugurated the "terrorists
take over a ____ and one man must defeat them" action genre. Actually,
a smashing good action film, despite its plot holes and many one-dimensional
characters. The success is due mostly to Willis' portrayal of a more down-to-earth
action hero who actually gets hurt, and Alan Rickman's urbane performance
as terrorist leader Hans Gruber. McTiernan's pacing is excellent. The
film never really bogs down despite numerous sub-plots and the introduction
of too many "idiot" side characters. The cheap slasher film
"surprise" at the end is inexcusable.
Look Back in Anger
(Tony Richardson, 1958)
Richardson's screen adaptation of John Osborne's play helped
initiate the British screen's "kitchen sink" movement, with
its working-class characters and gritty, realistic style. Richard Burton
may seem a tad old, but his performance as Jimmy Porter is quite stunning.
Jimmy is a college graduate who operates a candy stall by day, plays jazz
trumpet at night, and takes out his simmering rage and misanthropy on
his middle-class wife and all who cross his path. Burton's performance
combines anger, humour and vulnerability, effortlessly bringing Porter
to life.
The Mummy (Stephen Sommers, 1999)
While I wasn't expecting a film like the classic Universal
film, or even the Hammer remake, I was expecting decent entertainment.
I was wrong. This is a ridiculous excuse to fill the screen with digital
effects at the expense of a coherent plot and developed characters. A
total waste of time.
©2002 Richard Doyle
CineScene
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