moonspinner55

Documentary on films deemed "culturally, historically or aesthetically significant" by the Library of Congress and listed on the National Film Registry (the current list includes 525 titles from every movie genre). The Registry came into being after Ted Turner began colorizing black-and-white films ("My movies," he brags) which he purchased from the MGM/UA library in 1986, sending film directors and actors to Washington, D. C. to fight for the preservation of cinema classics in their original state. The process of selecting films for the Registry is fine (it's also amusing how the Academy Awards do not act as a factor in the decision-making, since "Sometimes the Academy got it right and, at other times, they got it wrong"); however, I feel, judging movies on their so-called "importance" can also lead to bad decisions. One doesn't go to the movies solely on the basis of what is culturally significant. This process leaves out a lot of the opulent junk movie-fans eat up late at night on TCM Underground. So what about the B-movies and co-features and also-rans? Are they to be sacrificed so future generations can only see our significant works? Historic representations, one might add, which have been manufactured for commercial consumption. What is the underlying similarity between "The Maltese Falcon" and "Valley of the Dolls"? Both were produced to appeal to the public of their respective eras--for box-office revenue. It's show business, for goodness sake. ** from ****

Famous singer-songwriter-guitarist, hard drinking and struggling with debilitating tinnitus, finishes a concert in a strange town and asks his chauffeur to drive him around until he finds a bar. Walking unawares into a drag club, he watches a former waitress there belt out "La Vie en Rose", which brings tears to his eyes (I was wondering if he knew right away she wasn't a drag queen but an actual woman, though the movie doesn't touch it). They share an instant attraction, common musical talents and tastes, and when she's pushed against the wall at her job the next day, she takes the star performer up on his offer to fly to his next gig. Fourth version of the show biz tearjerker was co-written and directed by star Bradley Cooper, who also sings (in a Kris Kristofferson-like growl). He stages a marvelous opening for the film that lasts about 45mns; in the second-half, the wayward narrative, the awful, F-bomb-heavy dialogue, and slow-motion scenes of marital discord release all the dramatic tension from the scenario, leading to a sad but not heartbreaking conclusion. Cooper gets powerhouse moments from newcomer Lady Gaga, but mainly when she's singing; her acting is so determinedly 'casual' that her presence tends to dribble away in the middle of scenes. I wasn't sure I understood her character at all, and Lady Gaga doesn't help us get our bearings by saving all her gut-punching emotions for the stage. Certainly the script is the main culprit here, with dead-end scenes such as her fussing over her dad and his pals (all movie-jovial); Cooper's ugly feuding with stage manager-brother Sam Elliott; her instant stardom directing her towards dance music that her new husband doesn't understand; and on and on. A major sequence at the Grammys, lifted from the previous three versions, has booze derailing Cooper's Jackson Maine in front of millions of viewers, yet the static scene is so clumsily staged that we're not sure how much of a negative impact was really caused. The editing in the finale, mixing a flashback in with Lady Gaga's tribute song, was a risk that pays off--it certainly wasn't what Streisand would do. But, by this point, the characters have no great hold on us, and the timeline of events is so fuzzy, I couldn't even tell how long the couple knew each other before the end finally came. Eight Oscar nominations with one win: for Best Song, "Shallow", composed by Lady Gaga, Mark Ronson, Anthony Rossomando and Andrew Wyatt. ** from ****

Defense attorney in Baltimore reluctantly defends judge accused of rape. Absurdist courtroom drama from director Norman Jewison and screenwriters Barry Levinson and Valerie Curtin is a darkly comic series of loopholes and even loopier behavior. Oscar-nominated Al Pacino does top-notch work with marginal material; excellent support from Jack Warden, Lee Strasberg, Christine Lahti, Jeffrey Tambor, and (surprise!) John Forsythe. Cinematographer Victor J. Kemper should have faced a judge for his dung-colored photography. Two Oscar nominations in all, including Best Original Screenplay. ** from ****