Hancock_the_Superb

The Trial of Billy Jack (1974)

The worst movie of all time

Billy Jack (Tom Laughlin) spends four years in prison for his killing of a sheriff's deputy. During that time, the Freedom School, a hippie commune led by Billy's lover Jean (Delores Taylor) begins to prosper, releasing newspapers and TV that stick it to the man, caring for underprivileged and abused children, and no doubt doing lots of drugs (oh, I'm sorry - drug use is against the rules there). Billy helps the Indians and the Freedom School stick up to the crooked landowner Posner (Riley Hill), who ultimately calls out the police and National Guard, with tragic (I guess) results.

"The Trial of Billy Jack" is an atrocious film that has to be seen to be believed. On the other hand, that may be too high of a price. While it maintains some of the camp value of its predecessors, any enjoyment, unintentional or otherwise, is done in by the fact that the movie is THREE FRICKING HOURS LONG!!! The movie's pretentious, overwrought and hilariously un-ironic political and social content isn't the problem here; it's the length, and boy does it drag.

The first Billy Jack had a certain purity of form. Clocking in at about two hours, it was a reasonably entertaining film which managed to be watchable, with the camp cheesiness and overwrought hippie world-view only enhancing the experience. The movie could never reconcile its pleas for pacifism with the appeal of Billy Jack's martial arts heroics, but it hardly mattered. The overlong guerrilla theater routines by Howard Hesseman and the interminable music numbers were the biggest flaws, but Laughlin managed to keep himself in check.

No such luck here, as Trial of Billy Jack drips with a potent strain of narcissism. Laughlin's film is filled to the brim of self-indulgence, padding the film's running time with self-indulgence and smug posturing. At least a third of the movie is lengthy, droning performances of atrocious excuses for "music", by people with no talent (most egregiously, Laughlin's daughter Teresa). Billy Jack is continually celebrated throughout as a paragon of virtue, albeit a somewhat flawed one, sung about and worshiped by the freedom school kids - yeah, nice humility, Tom. And of course, Laughlin's smug self-assurance that we'll agree with our heroes and their noxious political viewpoint is rather off-putting as well, but he gets around that problem - sort of.

The politics are by their nature laughable, accepting and endorsing every bit of radical, leftist conspiracy jargon as concrete fact. But the way Laughlin paints the issues is what makes it truly offensive. He juxtaposes the film's climactic massacre with real life school shootings like Kent State, portraying them as premeditated acts of mass murder by the National Guard. The villains are bigoted, greedy, harrumphing straw-men, not even convincing as caricatures. Laughlin and Co. seem convinced that they're so important that they're being investigated by the FBI, CIA, and the US government at large for their "scorching exposes" (Laughlin would, in real-life, use this excuse for the failure of his later Billy Jack Goes to Washington). The journalist interviewing Jean repeats leftist conspiracy propaganda as known fact. The final massacre is so over-the-top, it's simultaneously appalling and laughable; the idea that someone would actually hold this viewpoint, however, is what's truly appalling here (although, not as laughable as believing that thousands of rounds fired by trained Guardsmen could only result in three deaths in a huge crowd).

This is offensive, not because of the politics, but because of the dishonesty; it's easy to paint everyone opposed to you as a brutal, vicious Fascist, and thus (in theory, anyway) renders any possible argument against the film moot. Like, you can't dislike this movie unless you're a paid shill, Man. It's a childish argument, and it says a lot about Laughlin that it's his primary defense against criticism. And we STILL have the problem that Billy Jack is kicking ass is pretty much antithetical to the peace and love message we're supposed to be getting.

Okay, the movie has some camp value. The lengthy Indian vision scenes - where Billy Jack confronts his "spirit double" and a cave full of demons - are pretty darn funny, in a trippy sort of way. A lot of the dialogue and acting is pathetically bad (I love the scene where a hippie suggests that the Freedom School "BOMB THE HELL OUT OF THEM!"). But is so pompously self-important throughout - and so LONG - that it isn't even enjoyable. Two hours in, you'll be pining for the original film, with the "epic" karate fight in the lawn, Howard Hesseman's rambling improv comedy, and, yes, Coven's camp classic "One Tin Soldier" - and you'll realize that there's still an hour to go! But overall, this is a film that even the biggest bad movie buff should be leery of approaching.

0/10

The Train (1964)

Excellent, intelligent action movie about the cost and meaning of war

During the last days of Germany's occupation of France, German Colonel Von Waldheim (Paul Scofield) arranges for a collection of priceless art from a French museum to be shipped via train to Germany. The museum curator (Suzanne Flon) enlists a cell of French Resistance fighters, led by railroad inspector Paul Labiche (Burt Lancaster), to rescue the paintings "for the glory of France." Labiche refuses to waste lives saving paintings, but a complicated series of events results in Labiche commandeering the train anyway. However, Von Waldheim is obsessive about his cargo, and Labiche and his colleagues must go to extreme lengths to stop him.

The Train is a truly brilliant movie. As a rousing action film, it is among the best of its kind. It also works as a thoughtful mediation on the cost and meaning of warfare. Skillful direction by John Frankenheimer and two extremely talented leads cause both ends of the film to come off extremely well.

The movie is brutally honest in its examination of war. Labiche says early on that paintings aren't worth risking lives, and a comparison between the value of human life and the value - artistic and monetary - of the art is repeatedly raised. Dozens of lives - French and German - are lost during the mission, callously thrown away to preserve the paintings. Labiche doesn't understand why so many people must die for the sake of art - but that, in and of itself, is largely the film's message. At one point, Boule (Michel Simon), the cranky old engineer assigned to drive the train, justifies the mission by tying it to "the glory of France". It doesn't seem overly convincing to the audience, but then, is saving paintings representing France's national heritage any less of an abstract idea than patriotism itself? If nothing else, the paintings serve as a physical manifestation of national pride, and they are a viable object to fight for - something that can be touched. The brilliant climax, however, provides a stark and brutal answer to Labiche's dilemma; afterward, there can be no question what he values most.

First and foremost, however, the movie is an action film. On a technical level, it is brilliant. The film has an atmosphere of gritty realism which has rarely been surpassed by films of this type. The Train is filmed in crisp black-and-white, which adds immeasurably to the movie's stark, gritty feel. Labiche's heroics remain completely within the realm of the possible, and he wins more or less by luck. There are many impressively-staged sets, with steady dolly shots and pans around crowded rooms and station platforms. The movie's set-pieces are brilliantly staged, including the air raid on the train station, the massive train crash using three real locomotives, and the final confrontation between Labiche and Waldheim. Few war films are as realistic and believable as this, while remaining entertaining and exciting. Maurice Jarre contributes a subtle, effective score to the proceedings.

Burt Lancaster gives a truly exceptional performance as Labiche. An actor capable of over-acting on occasions, Lancaster restrains himself and gives a serious, thoughtful turn as the French Resistance fighter who is forced into a mission he doesn't believe in, who values the lives of his colleagues over abstract ideals and suicide missions. He performs his own stunts, and his physicality serves the role very well. Labiche is tough but not indestructible; but in the end, he is a man who will simply not be stopped, regardless of his personal feelings or the obstacles in his path.

Just as impressive is Lancaster's counterpart, the late, great Paul Scofield (A Man for All Seasons). His character is obsessed, but not insane. As a man who appreciates the art, he feels it his duty to save the paintings, and will go to any length at all to save them. Scofield gives a fiery, intense performance, making Waldheim a sympathetic and well-rounded character. His final speech to Labiche, as they face-off beside the wrecked train, is poignant and moving in its own twisted way, spelling out the themes of the movie in a most eloquent manner.

Supporting the two leads are a roll call of top-notch French and German talent: Jeanne Moreau as a French war widow who briefly romances Labiche; Suzanne Flon as the idealistic, determined curator; Albert Remy, Charles Millot, Michel Simon, and Jacques Marin as Labiche's colleagues; Wolfgang Priess, Richard Munch and Jean Bouchard as Von Waldheim's colleagues and henchmen.

The Train is simply one of the best, most realistic and entertaining war films of all time. It is to the immense credit of Frankenheimer and his skilled cast and crew that they were able to pull off both realism and entertainment without sacrificing one or the other.

9/10

The Other Boleyn Girl (2008)

Lavishly made historical soap opera

It's the reign of King Henry VIII (Eric Bana), and as usual, the Boleyn family is plotting to take advantage of his inability to have a son with Katherine of Aragon (Ana Torrent). The weak but ambitious Thomas Boleyn (Mark Rylance) and their arrogant Uncle, the Duke of Norfolk (David Morrissey) enlist Anne (Natalie Portman) to be the King's mistress - but the headstrong Anne proves unsuitable, and so Anne's demure sister Mary (Scarlett Johansson) fills the role instead. Mary has the bad luck to fall for Henry, who dumps her when she becomes pregnant. Henry falls for Anne, but she is more reluctant: she manipulates him into divorcing Katharine, severing ties with Rome, and marrying her. Unable to bear Henry a son, Anne quickly falls out of his favor, and she must rely on her sister to save her life.

Yes, it's another film set in Tudor England, and the only new thing "The Other Boleyn Girl" can claim credit for is bringing Mary Boleyn to our attention. It's all been done before, and better. It's a lavishly made film with good acting and excellent production values; but story- and character-wise, it never rises above the level of melodrama.

The most interesting aspect of this film is its exploration of women in the 16th Century. Anne and Mary are loving sisters who are torn apart by their family's ambition. This was a time when women were nothing more than pawns of their family; society condemned them to be little more than wives, mothers, sex objects, and pawns in elaborate power games. Love doesn't matter, as marriages are arranged and parents can break up any relationship they dislike (as with Anne's match with Henry Percy). Girls like Mary simply accept their fate, leading to personal ruin and a miserable life. For a woman like Anne to stand up to the King is unthinkable; but in an age where women have no rights, it's the only way to gain the slightest bit of power.

The movie does a good job sketching this issue, and sets up a game of one-ups-manship between Anne and Mary. But this never really goes anywhere. Anne may be willing to sell Mary out to advance herself and her family, but Mary is too polite, and too noble to do the same. This would be interesting, if the first hour of the film isn't spent setting up a "Battle of the Boleyns". Mary is almost saintly in her nobility and loyalty to Anne, and in light of what happens here, one might question why. She's endearingly sincere, but as a result, she's a rather boring character compared to naughty Anne.

The movie also errs in skimming over the historical context in question. The movie somehow manages to go its whole length barely mentioning, if they do at all, Cardinal Wolsey, Thomas Cromwell, Thomas More, Archbishop Cranmer - you know, the guys who made Henry's reign interesting - let alone the momentous changes set forth by Henry's actions. It's not dumbed-down history, it's non-existent history. We don't even get to see Anne's influence on Henry's reign. Does Anne have interest in religious reform? We don't hear about it, except in one or two oblique lines of dialogue. Yes, the politics are not the point, but how can you create a film about Henry VIII without acknowledging his achievements?

Curiously, I watched Anne of the Thousand Days this past week as well, and it shares the same basic flaw. Both films do a good job of establishing our characters and portraying Henry and Anne's decidedly rocky courtship, but once Anne actually assumes the throne, the movie goes south due to much-too-quick pacing and lack of focus. Unfortunately, here this flaw is magnified by MTV-style editing and complete lack of historical and political context, causing things to zip by at a ridiculous pace. Natalie Portman's acting and the powerful execution scene go some way towards redeeming this, but we get little or no indication of why Anne and Henry fall out of love; it just happens.

One of the most egregious bits is the ending. As in AotTD, we are also needlessly reminded in a neon-light display at the end that ELIZABETH I IS ANNE'S DAUGHTER! YES! THAT ELIZABETH! THE DAUGHTER HENRY DIDN'T WANT AND THAT HE KILLED ANNE FOR! In both instances, gimme a break. Is there in anyone the audience who doesn't know this going in?

Technically, the movie is gorgeous: the costumes, music and art decoration are as gorgeous as any other period film you care to name, but that comes with the territory. The real revelation here is Kieran McGuigan's ravishing cinematography, full of moody colors and tones that create an almost surreal storybook atmosphere.

The cast is generally good. Natalie Portman is an astonishing Anne, ravishingly beautiful throughout and capturing Anne's fiery and strong-willed nature (not to mention vastly improving on her previously naff English accent). Scarlett Johansson is a good Mary, although her role is the weaker of the two. Kristin Scott Thomas delivers a knock-out performance as the girls' sympathetic but helpless mother, with Mark Rylance and David Morissey appropriately loathsome. Jim Sturgess, Juno Temple and Benedict Cumberbatch are good enough in supporting roles, although Ana Torrent is a rather clichéd and uninteresting Katherine. But the film's weak spot is undoubtedly Eric Bana. Normally a very good actor, Bana attempts to create an unusually understated Henry, but instead he ends up a dreadful bore. Even in his angry scenes he is too nice to be the capricious monster we know Henry as. Even Jonathan Rhys-Meyers' scenery-chewing on The Tudors is light-years ahead of Bana's Henry.

The Other Boleyn Girl lives up to its source novel and its own billing. It's a pretty good historical soap opera, but that's about all it is. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

7/10

Anne of the Thousand Days (1969)

Entertaining, lavishly produced period piece

King Henry VIII (Richard Burton) is the absolute ruler of England, handsome, athletic, lusty, loved by his people - but unable to produce a son by his wife, Katherine of Aragon (Irene Papas). Henry's wandering eye soon turns to Anne Boleyn (Genevieve Bujold), the daughter of a minor nobleman (Michael Hordern) whose older daughter, Mary (Valerie Gearon), already had a turn as the King's mistress. But Anne is determined not to follow her sister and be discarded, and when Henry's adviser Cardinal Wolsey (Anthony Quayle) breaks up her marriage to Henry Percy (Terence Wilson), Anne is infuriated. Eventually, Anne does fall for Henry - but forces him to marry her. Henry breaks with the Catholic Church and discards Katharine, but no sooner does he marry Ann than their relationship begins to sour. When Anne proves also unable to produce a son, Henry tires of her and enlists his chief minister, Thomas Cromwell (John Colicos) to do away with Anne by any means necessary.

"Anne of the Thousand Days" is a fine cinematic exploration of one of history's most infamous love affairs. Although featuring its share of flaws, it achieves what it sets out to do. It's an entertaining, intelligent and enjoyable period piece, lavishly mounted, handsomely photographed, and impeccably acted. It is never boring, which is quite an accomplishment in a 145 minute period film.

The film gives a stirring portrait of a well-known and well-worn subject. Henry is presented as a capricious beast, given to fits of monstrous rage when roused; when he is unhappy, no one is happy. His attempts to woo Anne are both pathetic and monstrous; the idea of him breaking up Anne's engagement to have her as a plaything is simply disgusting. If we didn't know how the story ended, we might have sympathy for Henry, a spoiled brat unused to rejection and enchanted by a girl he can't have. The charm is quickly worn off by those who are sacrificed along the way - Wolsey, Thomas More (William Squire), Bishop Fisher (Joseph O'Connor), and of course the momentous break with the Catholic Church, a momentous expediency which ultimately serves only to give Henry unlimited authority. How many people must die for Henry's whims? And more than that, a whim he's going to grow tired of in a few years' time? This is the true measure of Henry's evil, his use of human lives as tools for his own personal gain, even when the gain is only temporary.

As we all know, it's not going to end well, as Henry's affection for Anne runs rather shallow; she doesn't given him a male child, and he has no further use for her. Discarding his best advisers, he turns to Cromwell, a man lacking in scruples, to dispose of his wife; he moves on to his next conquest, Jane Seymour (Lesley Paterson), without a hint of regret. Richard Burton is well-cast as Henry; beyond the physical resemblance, he handles Bridget Boland and John Hale's muscular dialogue as if he were born speaking it.

We are also given an uncommonly sympathetic Anne. Anne is portrayed as a headstrong girl who has the nerve to stand up to the King; an act which, in 16th Century England, was one of uncommon courage. Manipulated by her ambitious relatives into a relationship she doesn't want, denied the love of her fiancée by Henry, she vents her rage towards the King in public. Eventually, seduced by power and worn down by Henry's constant badgering, she does fall for him - but the honeymoon is over before it's even begun; the people openly despise her, the King's advisors distrust her, and worst of all, she can't produce Henry's son. Before long, she finds herself on trial for her life, a victim of her capricious and unsympathetic husband. Genevieve Bujold's performance is fiery and charismatic; I am not an Anne fan by any means, but even I was moved to sympathy during the later sections of the film, as she is targeted by her ungrateful husband for destruction. Bujold is a brilliant Anne: beautiful, passionate, and sympathetic, and she dominates the film every time she's on screen.

The movie moves along at a brisk clip for the half, as Henry tries to woo Anne and affect his divorce. The film is filled with witty, intelligent banter between Henry and Anne. The dialogue is reasonably authentic, avoiding the cutesy self-awareness plaguing many other period films (cf. The Lion in Winter), the portrayal of the events accessible and entertaining. This is history for the masses, and as such, it's very well-done.

However, after Anne and Henry's wedding, the movie seems to move along too quickly, skimming over many important events and points - most notably Anne's involvement in the reform of the Church, which is barely even mentioned. The film features a powerful climactic meeting between Anne and Henry in the Tower, where Anne tells Henry off in a brilliant speech, but the film is capped off with a clunk when the speech is repeated via narration at the very end (over a shot of young Princess Elizabeth toddling around the courtyard).

The film is lavishly mounted, with gorgeous costumes, beautiful cinematography (by Arthur Ibbetson), and a handsome score by Georges Delerue. The movie makes an interesting companion piece to A Man for All Seasons, which it strongly resembles appearance-wise (besides sharing a common subject).

The supporting cast is quite good, particularly Anthony Quayle as an unusually sympathetic Wolsey, John Colicos as the shifty fly-on-the-wall Cromwell, and William Squire as a dignified Thomas More. Some performances don't come off too well - Peter Jeffrey is an uncommonly bland Duke of Norfolk, and Irene Papas seems badly miscast as Katherine - but they're in the minority.

While not a masterpiece, Anne of the Thousand Days is a very well-made and enjoyable film, a bit of crowd-pleasing historical entertainment.

8/10

Amadeus (1984)

Exquisitely photographed, but empty and often dull

Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) was born with the love of and desire to create music. He is the Court Composer for Austrian Emperor Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones) and lives a relatively contented life, even if his music is less-than-brilliant. But when Salieri encounters Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Tom Hulce), the young, arrogant, vulgar - and brilliant - composer, he realizes just how feeble his attempts at music are. Salieri denounces God and declares a campaign of destruction against Mozart; he is enraptured by Mozart's music while hating the man, and will go to seemingly any length to destroy him.

Based on Peter Schafer's play, Amadeus should be a great film. It has an intriguing story, a marvelous production design, full of glittering and gorgeous period detail, a talented director in Milos Foreman, and a score by Mozart - which, if nothing else, should provide some amount of enjoyment. So what is it about Amadeus that doesn't work? A combination of factors, from a bizarre cast to a weak screenplay with a startling lack of authenticity to an overall feeling of staginess that doesn't translate well to film.

Let's start first with the screenplay. I am unfamiliar with Schafer's play, so I will not bother comparing his screenplay to the stage script. But the screenplay falls prey to something fatal: anachronism. The dialogue and characters are extremely modern to point of being post-modern, only creating an air of inauthenticity which strikes a false note from the get-go. This is a legitimate approach to a subject - it worked well enough in A Man for All Seasons and Becket - and, to be fair, using arcane period language carries its own perils. However, it takes an accomplished writer to pull it off, and if Schaffer is such a writer he doesn't evidence it here. The movie isn't convincing for a second as a period piece set in 18th Century Austria. As with The Lion in Winter, we lose track of the historical context in order to keep up with the witty and anachronistically self-aware dialogue, and the film suffers greatly for it.

The cast is another bizarre aspect. The casting of profoundly American actors in virtually every role produces a disconcerting effect which only exacerbates the problems of script and character. F. Murray Abraham is good as Salieri, but his performance is subtle and understated to the point of being dull. It would have been interesting to see how the original Salieri, Paul Scofield, tackled the role; he was an actor who can be understated without boring the audience. Tom Hulce is an odd choice as Mozart, but Hulce actually handles the part very well, and is at least fun to watch. Elizabeth Berridge on the other hand is absolutely dreadful and out-of-place as Mozart's wife, with a distracting New York accent. Jeffrey Jones and Simon Callow (the original Mozart) are quite good in smaller roles, but they don't have a lot of time to register. The rest of the cast is made up of talented actors - Christine Ebersole, Roy Dotrice, Charles Kay, Barbara Bryne, Cynthia Nixon - with virtually nothing to do.

Most of Amadeus's quality comes from its admittedly lavish production values, but when coupled with the "modern" dialogue and characters and the bizarre cast, they only add another discordant note to the film. The story is rather interesting - the idea of Salieri as a man who can recognize musical genius while lacking all but the most remedial talent - but it's overwhelmed by a plethora of banal plot ideas and character development and trite symbolism (reaching its nadir when Salieri burns a crucifix in protest of God's favoring Mozart), as well as horrendous pacing. Too much time is spent watching operas and musical performances by Mozart and Salieri. Not a bad idea sparingly - we ARE watching a film about a composer - but used repeatedly, they only slow the film's pace to a painful, deadening crawl. At 160 minutes, such sloth is fatal. Oh, the music is brilliant, but we've always known Mozart was a talented composer; we didn't need this film to tell us that.

So, to sum up, Amadeus is a dull if nice-looking slog. To answer the Emperor's question: "Is it modern?" The answer is yes, and it's very much to the film's detriment. "Though the libretto was written by accomplished artists, the plot is that of a third-rate operetta" (Phillip Ziegler).

5/10

Rambo (2008)

If it's possible to make a dumber movie... let me know, okay?

John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) is still, after all these years, an embittered man who can't forget and move on from his traumatic 'Nam experiences. Living in Thailand and working as, I dunno, a boat man or something, he reluctantly aids a group of pacifist Christian mercenaries (Julie Benz and Paul Schulze) in a trip to war-torn Myanmar to aid victims of the government repression. Low and behold, our misguided missionaries are soon captives of the vicious, evil, rapacious government troops (who love nothing more than cutting off old lady's arms and throwing babies into fire) who for some reason don't kill them. Rambo makes another trip, this time accompanied by a team of loud-mouthed but largely ineffectual and wimpy mercenaries. Long story short: bullets and arrows fly, entrails are ripped out, the screen is spattered with ridiculous CGI-augmented gore, and all is right with the world.

Sly Stallone returns, older, tougher and more incomprehensible than ever, in the latest installment of the Rambo franchise. Exactly what Sly thinks he's accomplishing by rehashing the hits of his halcyon youth is beyond me - but clearly, there's something of an audience for these films, so why not? While Rocky Balboa was at least mildly diverting, re-capturing some of the spirit of the original, Rambo is a blood-soaked, utterly brainless film with nothing to offer but loads of CGI-aided ultra-violence.

There really isn't much to discuss with Rambo. The first three films at least had some message or characterization, even if they were cheesy at times. But this time, clocking it at barely 90 minutes (10 of them are credits), the movie neatly dispenses with character and plot, and focuses entirely on the blood-'n'-guts factor. The violence here is ridiculously extreme - Rambo rips out people's windpipes and entrails, heads explode, bodies are lacerated by .50 machine-gun fire, Burmese are raped and mutilated, people are blowed up by mortar rounds, grenades, and claymores - and it's not even realistic or enjoyable because most of it is augmented by CGI. Stallone's direction is horridly inept, using rapid cutting that would make Michael Bay have a seizure, not to mention making the scenes in question near-impossible to follow.

What about our characters? Rambo is the same epigrammatic anti-social scoundrel who kills people more or less because he's good at it. The missionaries are whiny wimps who are apparently here to show that pacifism sucks. The mercenaries are a slightly more colorful bunch, with Graham McTavish fun as their inventively profane leader, but they are effectively impotent clods who contribute nothing to Rambo's mission but a lot of profanity and whining (and more people to rescue at the climax). The Burmese, be they victims or victimizers, don't have even pathetic attempts at characterizations, although we do learn that the Evil Leader (Maung Maung Khin) is gay. It's just impossible to take any of these seriously, but it's not even entertaining on a base, "look at these people getting machine gunned" way. It's just pathetic, though a few unintentional laughs may be had along the way.

Is the movie somehow important because it deals with a real-life situation - the repressive regime of Than Shwe? Hardly. It's done in such a cartoonish, tertiary way that it overlooks the point. And in any case, there's no real attempt to exploring the issue - it's just a backdrop. This movie could have been set anywhere - Darfur, Tibet, even Iraq - and been largely the same film. The Burmese army are pretty much more faceless dudes for Rambo to waste. Rambo's "violence solves everything" policy is a bit hard to swallow too, but then no one comes to these films for the politics (I hope).

What more can be said about Rambo? Even Michael Bay and Uwe Boll would find it incoherent and poorly made. Even Quentin Tarantino would find it excessively, ridiculously violent. Even Keanu Reeves and Chuck Norris would laugh at Sly's excuse for a performance. Even Aung San Suu Kyi would find the portrayal of the Burmese government laughably over-the-top. Even Paul Wolfowitz would probably blanch at the thick-headed bellicosity displayed in Rambo's style of foreign policy. And even fans of 300 would find the movie cartoonish and ridiculous.

Well, on that last count... maybe not.

2/10

The Nun's Story (1959)

Stirring, thought-provoking exploration of religion and duty

Gabriele Van Der Maal (Audrey Hepburn) is a head-strong Belgian girl who decides to become a Nun, despite the protests of her surgeon father (Dean Jagger). Gabriele finds her work challenging in the extreme; in order to be successful, she must suppress her individuality, all of her thoughts, memories and desires, and sublimate herself to a collective worship and service of God. As Sister Luke, she works in an insane asylum, a hospital in the Congo, and in a military hospital during World War II. Despite her best efforts, Gabriele struggles to sublimate her personality and pride, but finds herself increasingly unable to do so. Although she becomes acclaimed as a selfless, hard-working nurse, she realizes the truth of her Mother Superior (Edith Evans)' dictum: "You can cheat your sisters, but you can't cheat yourself - or God!"

"The Nun's Story" is a profound, deep and intelligent film. It deals thoughtfully with a difficult subject: What does it mean to become a Nun, to sacrifice your life to religion? Fred Zinneman's handsome, thoughtful film addresses this question in a forthright, honest manner, without passing any judgment on the Catholic Church or the lead character. It also contains the greatest performance of Audrey Hepburn's career, by far.

Nuns haven't had a very good track record on film. The most egregious are films like, say, Sister Act or The Sound of Music, which depict Nuns as clownish figures, repressed women who just want to have a good time, ride motorcycles, sing, dance or, God help us, fly. Even more serious explorations of the theme (Black Narcissus, The Bells of St. Mary's) are largely tainted with an outsider view of Catholicism, and tend to idealize or damn it. Even worse, a seemingly never-ending chain of Hollywood films and TV shows seems grimly determined to convince us that religion is a sham, and religious people are inherently evil - murderers, pedophiles, or hypocrites.

"The Nun's Story" doesn't. Its depiction of the Catholic Church is remarkably uncritical, yet neither is it an endorsement. It is an incredibly frank exploration of Catholicism, and specifically Nunnery. The early scenes showing the Nuns' training makes it clear that being a Nun isn't something people do for fun - it's serious, hard work. In order to become a Nun, one must strive for perfection, sublimate individuality, recognize and criticize even the tiniest faults - and shed all vestiges of their previous life. One can't even talk without permission, or express their private thoughts or feelings - except to condemn them as fault or sin. Only the most devoted, strong-willed women can achieve this without bowing out or losing their sanity; and it's unlikely that they'll be singing and dancing with Whoopi Goldberg any time soon.

This process proves exceedingly difficult for Gabriele, who is a headstrong, proud and intelligent girl. At first, she willingly tackles being a Nun as a challenge; we never learn why she decided to become a Nun (unhappy family life? Personal problems? A sense of religious duty or calling?), but it's not all that important. It isn't long, however, before Gabriele's faults begin to surface. In the ultra-repressive and controlled environment of the Monastery, Gabriele finds herself increasingly critical of and disgusted in herself. The movie reaches an early climax when one of Sister Luke's mothers (Ruth White) suggests that she deliberately fail a medical exam in order to assuage feelings of pride and guilt. This provides an agonizing conflict: a viewer might reasonably ask whether it's right to ask a Nun to be dishonest, which might be a bigger flaw than pride.

But even as Sister Luke becomes an exemplary nurse, she finds herself unable to sublimate herself to the Church. She is nearly killed when she gives water to an asylum patient (Colleen Dewhurst) without permission. She becomes more and more independent in the Congo, taking initiative without her Mothers' knowledge and developing an attraction towards the handsome Dr. Fortunati (Peter Finch). She sees all of these as faults, even when her superiors don't. Her Mothers and Sisters are supportive and understanding, recognizing Sister Luke's virtues and skill - but she can only see the flaws. World War II provides the final straw; when her family and countrymen are being slaughtered by the Nazis, how can she possibly remain impartial? It's impossible to say Sister Luke isn't a strong woman, but her inability to see her strengths is her fatal flaw.

Fred Zinneman's direction, as usual, is handsome and at times beautiful. As in other works, his straightforward directorial style lets the actors, sets and locations do the work. Robert Anderson's script gives intelligent dialog and well-rounded, sensitive characters, avoiding the stereotypes and clichés of religious films, condemning neither the Catholic Church nor our flawed protagonist. Franz Planer provides gorgeous cinematography, particularly in the Congo scenes, and Franz Waxman gives a beautiful score.

Audrey Hepburn's performance is simply remarkable. Shedding her trademark uber-chic Givenchy costumes and lacking make-up, she lets her true beauty shine through. The device of letting us see only her face through her habit has a remarkably powerful pay-off. But more than this, Hepburn perfectly portrays the anguish and emotional conflict of Sister Luke; her expressive face alone conveys more than ten pages of screenplay. Anyone doubting Audrey's acting ability absolutely has to see her performance here; it's a revelation. The supporting cast includes fine performances from Peter Finch, Dean Jagger, Edith Evans, Peggy Ashcroft, Niall McInnes, and Colleen Dewhurst, complementing Hepburn's performance and creating well-rounded characters of their own.

The Nun's Story is simply remarkable. Few other films are as honest about religion; and, truth be told, few are as intelligent, well-rounded and thought-provoking period. It is a masterpiece.

10/10

Straw Dogs (1971)

Powerful, intense meditation on the allure and repulsion of violence

American astrophysicist David Sumner (Dustin Hoffman) is a wimpy pacifist who grows tired of the strife and violence raging across America. Along with his pretty young wife, Amy (Susan George), he travels to George's hometown in Cornwall, England. Sumner quickly finds that beneath the idyllic scenery and veneer of small-town friendliness lie a clannish society based on violence and exclusion-ism. A group of townspeople begin playing a series of increasingly vicious pranks on David and Amy, culminating in Amy's rape by two of the more repulsive townspeople (Del Henney and Ken Hutchison). Things still continue on, until David takes in the village idiot, Harry Niles (David Warner), after hitting him with a car and tries to save him from a mob who saw him abduct a young girl. David tries to sort the situation out peacefully, but before long he finds himself resorting to violence to defend himself and his home.

"Straw Dogs" is an amazingly powerful film, and a widely misunderstood one as well. Critics who seem unable to analyze films on anything but surface meaning accuse it of glamorizing sadism and violence; feminists harp on the film's rape scene and the portrayal of Amy, denouncing the film as a chauvinist fantasy. Both readings of the film are wholly off-base. Although perhaps not as deep as some of Sam Peckinpah's other works, it's easily his best shy of "The Wild Bunch", and deals with a deep (and disturbing) topic: humanity's lust for and glorification of violence and death.

Say the name Sam Peckinpah to anyone and what comes to mind? In pretty much every instance, the answer is violence. Graphic violence, slow-motion shoot-outs with bright red blood spurting out of bullet wounds. This is a simplistic way to look at Peckinpah; in his best work (Ride the High Country, The Wild Bunch) he created deep themes and well-rounded characters worthy of a classic novel or play. Even some of his weaker efforts, like Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid and Cross of Iron, have interesting ideas to present, even if not entirely successful. But, it is certainly true that violence - its effects, its terror, its place in society, and, most of all, social enjoyment of it - is a central theme of Peckinpah's films. Merely judging "Straw Dogs" on the fact that it IS violent is childish and simplistic; it's much more fruitful to address WHY Peckinpah opted to make it violent, and what he's trying to say.

"Straw Dogs" is perhaps the ultimate distillation of Peckinpah's views on violence. Peckinpah was an ardent fan of Robert Ardrey, the playwright-anthropologist who hypothesized that humans are inured to violence by instinctual urges rather than social pressure or upbringing. This is a very hard view to argue with, for in spite of hypocritical denunciation of violence in the media, the raging street violence, crime, warfare, and violent action movies, TV shows and video games, indicates that the human race thrives on and revels in killing - no matter how much we may like to think otherwise.

"Straw Dogs" endorses Ardrey's world-view: the people of our out-of-the-way hamlet are easily driven to violence, their sins mostly overlooked by the hypocritically pious town leaders. Even a pacifist like David Sumner is not immune to the allure of murder; his claims of standing up principle (defending Niles, the murderous village idiot, from a mob) are dubious at best. The film has been read as a revenge fantasy a la Death Wish, which is ridiculous; Amy doesn't even tell David about the rape. Rather, it's a cumulative revenge; a man stuck in a small town with no friends, fed up with violence in his own culture, his taunting and torment here, his unhappy marriage to his wife, and his own weakness, allows his long-repressed rage to explode. In the end, even David Sumner is capable of horrific violence; not only that, he enjoys it. And the sheer visceral thrill of watching vile bad guys get handed their just deserts implicates us in the violence as well; none of us are innocent, and all of us are guilty.

Peckinpah's direction is effective, presenting violence in all its glory and horror; he succeeds at showing an externally beautiful but inwardly hideous small town. The cast is good, if unspectacular: Dustin Hoffman embodies David Sumner as impotent professor and makes his transition frighteningly believable. Susan George is quite good as Amy, the confused, repressed young girl who married a guy who isn't right for her. The supporting cast is adequate, with T.P. McKenna and Del Henney giving the strongest performances as the well-meaning but ineffectual Sheriff and the most sympathetic of David and Amy's tormentors.

Straw Dogs is a powerful, disturbing mediation on violence, with a power and force that few films a possess. It is a true masterpiece.

10/10

Charlie Wilson's War (2007)

Intelligent, witty "dramedy" with one serious flaw

Charlie Wilson (Tom Hanks) is a hard-partying, womanizing Texas Congressman with no discernible legislative record. In 1980, he finds himself becoming interested in the plight of Afghanistan, which is in the midst of a brutal war with the USSR. On the auspices of his old flame, arch-conservative Texas socialite Joanne Herring (Julia Roberts), he travels to Afghanistan to assess the situation, and is stunned by what he sees. He returns to the US determined to help the Afghans, only to find his colleagues extremely indifferent to the situation - and himself under investigation for allegations of drug use. Undeterred, Wilson recruits Herring and the vulgar, outcast CIA Agent Gust Avrakotos (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) to begin a convoluted arms deal involving Israel, Egypt, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and a mostly unknowing US Congress. Ultimately, the Afghans defeat the Soviets, but while America celebrates their victory, Wilson and Avrakotos find their warnings about the instability of post-war Afghanistan falling on deaf ears.

Charlie Wilson's War is slick brain candy, a really neat film for the more intellectual viewer and fun entertainment for the average film-goer. The movie assembles an astonishing array of talent, both in front of and behind the camera, and delivers on its promise of being one hell of a good time. The film's has only one flaw, which we'll arrive at later. As an examination of the improbable way in which the 20th Century's largest covert war was waged - and, perhaps, the way that things get done by the CIA and other intelligence agencies - it's fascinating.

The movie is interesting on a number of levels. The story portrayed in the movie - with all of its outrageous double-dealings, sneaky covert operations, and, perhaps most of all, its success - would be so outrageous as a work of fiction, that it could easily be dismissed as a satire. But things really did work out this way, at least within reasonable bounds. The film portrays our three protagonists in an interesting way that highlights their virtues without obscuring their flaws. Wilson as a person who is unapologetic about his vices (even embracing them) - yet willing to embrace a righteous cause. Herring is something of an elitist, and her born-again attitude of righteousness is off-putting - yet she's deeply committed to the cause of the Afghan people. Avrakotos is a CIA outsider with an attitude problem, looked down upon because of his "street" background - yet his love of country and hatred of Communism are unwavering. The fact that this odd trio could play a major role in the downfall of the USSR is not only proof that anyone can make a difference, but also that truth is stranger than fiction. It's also very interesting that all of this is played as a comedy - not too surprising, given that our writer is Aaron Sorkin, but it's an interesting way to approach this story.

The movie does, however, have one drawback, which is a bit surprising. The film seems to unabashedly celebrate Wilson and Co.'s achievement. This is fine - nothing wrong with defeating the Soviet Union, is there? - until one considers that out of the ashes of the Soviet defeat in Afghanistan came the Taliban and eventually al-Qaeda. Regardless of the US's level of responsibility, it happened, and the movie's portrayal of Wilson's success is almost unmitigated. To be fair, the movie does address this issue towards the end, with a rather topical speech by Wilson about the US's inability to clean up after themselves, but it's done in such a tertiary manner that the average viewer will probably not take much from it. The overall impression will be that these three remarkable people helped the Afghans defeat the Soviets. This isn't a fatal drawback, mind you, but it's one troubling aspect of an otherwise brilliant movie.

The film's talent is remarkable. The legendary Mike Nichols delivers a slick, gorgeous-looking production; the material is perfectly suited to his understated, wry directorial style. Sorkin delivers yet another brilliant screenplay; the film has dozens of quotable lines and classic Sorkin exchanges (the best being the "Scotch bottle" discussion between Wilson and Avrakotos), and keeps something of a political and historical perspective behind it. The film's cast is a marvel: Tom Hanks gives a fine performance as the lovable rogue with a cause, Julia Roberts is alternately charming and repulsive as the obnoxious but committed Joanne, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman steals every scene (par usual) as the abrasive Gus. The always-lovely Amy Adams takes another step on her road to stardom as Wilson's long suffering assistant, and Ned Beatty, Om Puri, Emily Blunt, Christopher Denham, and Ken Stott flesh out the supporting cast.

Charlie Wilson's War is an intelligent and fun movie, a wonderful bit of a-bit-more-than-light entertainment. The fact that it decides not to be more than that shouldn't be held against it; it's brilliant at what it does.

8/10

V for Vendetta (2005)

Reasonably entertaining film, juvenile political screed

In the not-too-distant future, Britain is (surprise!) a dystopian, totalitarian state ruled by Fascist Chancellor Sutler (John Hurt), which exercises complete control over its citizens, ruling through fear and intimidation. Evey Hammond (Natalie Portman) is a naive young Londoner who is saved from a gang of lascivious policemen by V (Hugo Weaving), a mysterious man wearing a Guy Fawkes mask. V soon initiates a campaign of terrorism against Sutler's government, hoping to spark a popular insurrection. He uses his charm and coercion to convert Evey to his cause, and soon the public begins to tire of being oppressed. Police Inspector Finch (Stephen Rea), who is assigned to track down V, begins to uncover evidence of government atrocities during the course of his investigation. It all builds up to a massive popular revolution, and Sutler's government stands on the verge of collapse.

"V For Vendetta" is a film that, while reasonably entertaining on one level as an action film, is laughable in terms of its political views. It awkwardly positions itself between being a liberal position paper for standing up for freedom and civil liberties, and an endorsement of Anarchism for anarchy's sake. On a technical level, the film can't be faulted; on a thematic level, the film is laughably immature.

While the original graphic novel explored the complexities and ambiguities of the dichotomous political views, Anarchism and Fascism, the film takes a simplistic pro-anarchy stand. For all its posturing as a screed against totalitarian excess (with an occasionally insightful line, like V's "People shouldn't be afraid of their government; the government should be afraid of their people"), the movie plays as an endorsement of anarchy (or perhaps Nihilism) and Revolution, with Government as something inherently evil. The film treats us to yet another dystopian future Britain, which we've seen in everything from Brave New World to 1984 to Fahrenheit 451 to Brazil to Children of Men. It's nothing we haven't seen many times before, nothing that hasn't been done much better in other films, TV series, and books. As a result, the film's political views have the grace, sophistication, and subtlety of a campus protester, or a teen-aged punk poseur. It might be valid to argue that violent revolution is the only cure for an oppressive regime; but V for Vendetta seems to think that Revolution is a good thing in and of itself. The people launch a massive uprising against the government at the end, and we're expected to cheer; but the film is curiously silent on what exactly the Revolution stands for.

In spite of an occasional verbose speech about lost freedoms and civil liberties, in the end, V doesn't seem to stand for much more than personal revenge (as he was victimized in a government concentration camp) and nihilism. It's hard to care much for Sutler's Big Brother state, but it's equally hard to support V when he seems to lack a goal beyond destruction of authority. The movie seems to think that Revolution for Revolution's sake is the answer, failing to pose, let alone address, the question of "What's next?" This is in fact the key question; 20th Century revolutions in Russia, Germany, Italy, Spain, China, Cuba, Algeria and elsewhere went sour as soon as the Revolution was won, leading to the creation of some of the most repressive regimes in the history of Mankind. Is the fact OF Revolution at the end more important than the outcome? Only a hard-core Anarchist - or, more pointedly, a teenager who thinks it's cool to pose as anti-authoritarian - would think so. Even those Revolutions who succeeded had a leader (or leaders) to guide them - with V dead, should we really expect that his uprising will have inherently positive affects? Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it, but even such a cliché insight is far beyond the childish Revolution-chic mindset of this film.

V's morality is made more dubious by the methods he employs. His murder of government officials is one thing; his treatment of Evey is something else entirely. He kidnaps Evey, and when his attempts at subtle and charming persuasion fail, he kidnaps her, and sends her to a faux-prison, where she's interrogated, tortured, and broken down until she becomes committed to V's cause. Just when we think we're seeing a verifiable example of Sutler's brutality, we actually see our alleged protagonist in the role of Torturer, sinking down to the level of the enemy. It would be one thing this were presented as an example of V's moral ambiguity, but since the film makes no claims that V is doing anything but good elsewhere, it serves as a rather disquieting sequence.

As a simple film, V for Vendetta is pretty good. The cinematography and visuals are often stunning, really capturing the feel of a bleak dystopian future state. Hugo Weaving deserves much credit for making V an intriguing character, considering we never see his face. And the movie has some interesting ideas, including the use of Stephen Rea's Police Inspector as a plot device which uncovers past government atrocities. The action scenes are entertaining and well-done, if straining credulity at times. The cast is mostly good: while Natalie Portman is merely adequate, Stephen Rey, Stephen Fry, John Hurt, Tim Piggot-Smith, Sinead Cusack and Roger Allam give solid supporting turns.

So, am I being churlish for focusing on V for Vendetta's political views? Well, considering that they're positioned as the centerpiece of the film, I think it's more than fair to focus my review on them. V for Vendetta has nothing more insightful to say about politics and terrorism than a college freshman who's read a Michael Moore book. And for a film that, while somewhat entertaining, positions itself as a political statement, this is a serious flaw.

Cross of Iron (1977)

Disappointing, anemic, but still entertaining effort by Peckinpah

It is 1943, and the German Wehrmacht is being overrun by a Russian counterattack. Oblivious to his army's declining fortunes, aristocratic Captain Stransky (Maximillian Schell) turns up to take command of a company of bedraggled troops. Stransky makes clear his primary goal is to win the Iron Cross, seeing the medal as merely an appropriate decoration for his social status, rather than something to be won for heroism. Stransky instantly clashes with Sergeant Rolf Steiner (James Coburn), an embittered non-commissioned officer who's seen more than his fair share of combat, and has some archaic notions of honor, loyalty and heroism. When Steiner refuses to endorse Stransky's bid for an Iron Cross, Stransky takes revenge by leaving Steiner's platoon behind - forcing Steiner and his men to undertake a hellish forced march through enemy lines, before setting up the final showdown between Steiner and Stransky - in the midst of a Russian offensive.

"Cross of Iron" is Sam Peckinpah's only war film, and is something of a disappointment. As with "Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid", it's an interesting movie, but one can't help but think a more sober, reasonable early-career Peckinpah - the one that produced "Ride the High Country" and "The Wild Bunch" - would have made a masterpiece out of it. As it stands, "Cross of Iron" is still interesting and fairly entertaining, but far from a masterpiece, with many serious flaws.

The biggest problem with "Cross of Iron" is its lack of subtlety. The message is pretty clear: officers are evil and reprehensible cowards, letting enlisted men to die like dogs while capitalizing off of their sacrifice. This is a valid point, albeit an unoriginal one, but the message is as subtle as a neon sign. Stransky is a caricature evil officer; he introduces himself by outright stating his only goal is to win an Iron Cross, not even masking it as a joke. He baits two officers into admitting their homosexuality and then uses this information as blackmail. During his first battle, he cowers and hides in a bunker, then brazenly demands a commendation for heroism. Later, he leaves Steiner's platoon behind and, even later, orders his men to machine-gun Steiner's platoon. Although he has glimmers of humanity (his one-on-one with Steiner about the importance of the Cross to him), Stransky never rises above the level of caricature. James Mason's Colonel Brandt and David Warner's Kessel are presented more sympathetically, but in the end they're completely impotent and ineffectual (Kessel suffers from dysentery to emphasize the point), only emphasizing the message.

In any case, Steiner hates them all, as he makes clear in a speech to Brandt and Kessel. This serves as a self-defeating character trait, as Steiner is unwilling to help Brandt punish Stransky for cowardice. One might accept Steiner's viewpoint as valid, but one would also hasten to add that it's counterproductive. If he hates officers so much, why not go after the really nasty ones? Steiner is just a bitter, angry, cynical man, not without reason, but it's clear (as with many Peckinpah characters) that he thrives on combat, making his stance somewhat ambiguous and even self-contradictory. That may be the point, but it doesn't really endear us to Steiner.

That all might be excusable (Peckinpah, after all, never was much for subtlety), except that the entire film has an inescapably anemic feel. Major scenes lack the power they should; whether it was Peckinpah's own state of mind, or the film's low budget, the movie pretty much lacks any real force or drive. The major confrontations between characters seem forced; the battle scenes, with one major exception, lack the visceral power that one would expect of a Peckinpah film. The movie certainly has its share of effective moments: the first battle is a doozy, impressive considering the budgetary restraints, Stransky's baiting the two officers, the scenes of German soldiers struggling to remain sane between battles, Steiner's hallucinatory hospital stay - but they're counter-balanced by the weak, cliché and trite sequences that riddle the film. The confrontation between Steiner's platoon and a group of Russian women soldiers is a great idea that fizzles out almost before it begins. The scene where Steiner spares a Russian POW, only to see him machine-gunned by his own men, is rather trite. The final showdown between Steiner and Stransky is well-done but the conclusion is just baffling. The overuse of photo and video montage over the opening and closing credits provides another clunky note. (One might also point out that the use of Wermacht soldiers as protagonists is a novel idea that ultimately comes to very little.)

The acting is pretty good, with James Coburn giving arguably his career-best performance as the embittered Steiner (in spite of a dodgy attempt at an accent) - yet another "Peckinpah professional" trapped in an inescapable circle of personal hell. Maximillian Schell gives an intense performance, managing to overcome the cartoon constraints of his role. James Mason and David Warner comport themselves admirably, but they can't overcome their weak roles. Senta Berger (previously of Peckinpah's "Major Dundee") has a brief but effective role. There are many talented German actors filling out the supporting cast - Klaus Lowich, Roger Fritz, Dieter Schidor, Burkhard Driest - who give memorable characterizations.

Cross of Iron is a very mixed bag. It's entertaining enough, but really it lacks much in the way of depth or originality. Perhaps if Peckinpah had laid off the coke while shooting - or, better yet, been given a reasonable budget to work with - we could have a very good film on our hands. Instead, we have an interesting film that exists mostly as a "what-might-have-been".

6/10

The Wild Bunch (1969)

An American masterpiece; one of the greatest Westerns (and films) of all time

Pike Bishop (William Holden) is the aging leader of a motley collection of outlaws (Ernest Borgnine, Warren Oates, Ben Johnson, Edmond O'Brien, Jaime Sanchez, Bo Hopkins) who try to pull off one last score in 1913 Texas. But a robbery goes horribly wrong when bounty hunters led by railroad detective Harrigan (Albert Dekker) ambush them, leading to a bloody massacre. The Bunch flees into Mexico, pursued by a posse led by Deke Thornton (Robert Ryan), Pike's ex-partner. The Bunch finds themselves working for bloodthirsty Federale Mapache (Emilio Fernandez), who is trying to suppress Pancho Villa's revolutionaries - but their loyalty is conflicted when Angel (Sanchez) turns out to be a member of an Indian tribe oppressed by Mapache. After robbing a US Army arms shipment, the Bunch allows Angel to take some guns for his tribe - but Angel is captured by Mapache and brutally tortured. Finally, Pike, "tired of being hunted" and sick of himself, leads the gang in a desperate last stand.

"The Wild Bunch" is an American masterpiece. Best-known for revolutionizing big-screen violence, Sam Peckinpah's magnum opus is far more than just a blood-soaked splatter-fest. It's the distillation of Peckinpah's world-view - corruption, moral ambiguity, changing times and men, the horror and glamor of violence, and the complex nature of honor and loyalty. Any misguided critic who views Westerns as outdated popular entertainment needs to watch this film; it has enough character, narrative and thematic depth to put many novels to shame.

Indeed, The Wild Bunch is a cinematic novel. It portrays the theme of doomed men struggling to outlive their time, and the inherent impossibility of doing so. Men like Pike, Dutch, the Gorch Brothers, and Deke Thornton are products of their time - men who are clever and cunning but not particularly intelligent, who live by a Code, and who see violence as a way of life. In this new era, honor and loyalty are irrelevant; Harrigan and his scruffy bounty hunters are concerned only with personal profit, which, as Pike himself admits, "cuts an awful lot of family ties". Even the Bunch's unity is questionable: the surly Gorch Brothers dispute Pike's every move; grouchy old Sykes is a grumbling, cackling liability; and the idealistic Angel traps the Bunch into an unwitting death. Only Dutch remains unremittingly loyal to Pike, but ultimately, they HAVE to stick together in order to stay alive - they simply have no other choice.

Pike Bishop is a fascinating creation, a tragic hero of Shakespearean proportions. He is a man trapped by his own sense of loyalty and honor - "When you side with a man, you stick with him" - but he repeatedly fails to live up to it. He leaves Crazy Lee to die, similarly betrays Sykes, lets Angel be captured by Mapache, and, we later learn, is responsible for Thornton's arrest. In spite of his bluster, he's really a selfish, petty man who's only happy when he's in control (see the train robbery, where Pike is able, albeit briefly, to recapture his youth). He has too many scars, too many betrayals and failures to simply move on; he's a haunted man who knows his time is up, and his attempts to "modernize" his gang are laughable. Ultimately, sick of himself, Pike makes a stand - and ultimately, by sacrificing his gang for Angel, he finally lives up to his code.

Deke Thornton is Pike's mirror image. Thornton was Pike's partner whom he left to be captured. Offered a choice between continued imprisonment and hunting down his old gang ("30 Days to get Pike, or 30 Days back to Yuma"), Thornton chooses the latter; he knows the old days are over, and unlike Pike is willing to change. He, too, is trapped by his own sense of honor; he loathes the greedy, incompetent bounty hunters and longs to join his gang, but he gave Harrigan his word, and cannot break it. This is an agonizing compromise, often explored by Peckinpah; it's interesting to compare Thornton to Tyreen from "Major Dundee", or more pertinently "Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid" which plays as The Wild Bunch told by Deke Thornton.

One would be remiss if they discussed the film without mentioning the violence. The movie features three scenes of horrifically graphic violence, with squibs and fake blood, rapid parallel editing, and slow motion. The violence isn't nearly as graphic as the spate of action and horror films since, and yet is infinitely more effective; if not actually realistic, its sheer visceral impact makes up for artificiality. Accused by ignorants of glamorizing violence, Peckinpah simply shows violence as it is; repulsive and horrific, but perversely thrilling. If this weren't the case, then why would violent Westerns and action movies be so popular? It's not exactly a subtle statement, but one of immense power; the violence is not gratuitous, but necessary to show a world where violence has become not only commonplace, but impersonal, cold, and acceptable.

The movie features arguably the finest cast assembled for a Western. William Holden gives one of his best performances, using his own persona as a fading star to accentuate Pike's character. Ernest Borgnine's endlessly loyal Dutch and Robert Ryan's compromised Thornton complement Holden perfectly. Albert Dekker and Emilio Fernandez are both hiss-able villains who make it easier to sympathize with our protagonists. The supporting cast includes Strother Martin and L.Q. Jones as bounty hunters, Dub Taylor as a Bible-thumping preacher (was R.G. Armstrong unavailable?), and Bo Hopkins in a memorable bit as Crazy Lee. Only Edmond O'Brien's scenery-chewing as Sykes and Jaime Sanchez's theatrically "mannered" Angel are weak points, but neither is actively bad.

This isn't to mention Lucien Ballard's gorgeous cinematography, or Jerry Fielding's beautiful, poignant score, or the subtle symbolism and supporting characters. The Wild Bunch is, simply put, an American masterpiece, and one of the great films of all time.

10/10

Frenzy (1972)

One of Hitchcock's darkest - and best - films

A serial killer is on the loose in London - a sex maniac who rapes his victims and then strangles them with his tie. This couldn't matter less to Richard Blaney (Jon Finch), a bitter, washed-up veteran who loses his job at a pub and is generally mad at the world. But Blaney soon becomes the prime suspect after his ex-wife (Barbara Leigh-Hunt) becomes a victim of the killer - and the circumstantial evidence implicating him becomes overwhelming. With the help of co-worker/lover Babs (Anna Massey) and the reluctant help of an old RAF buddy and his wife (Clive Swift and Billie Whitelaw), he goes on the lam, further implicating him. After Babs is found strangled, Blaney is arrested - but Chief Inspector Oxford (Alec McCowan) of Scotland Yard begins to doubt his guilt. Soon, he realizes that the wrong man is in jail - and that the murderer is actually Blaney's buddy Bob Rusk (Barry Foster), a seemingly cheerful Covent Garden grocer. However, Blaney has escaped from jail, and Oxford must get to Rusk before Blaney does in order to sure that the right man is caught.

On the surface, "Frenzy" is a rather typical Alfred Hitchcock film, exploring the familiar ground of a man implicated in a crime he didn't commit, but against whom the evidence is overwhelming. But Hitchcock is able to add some new twists, and a great deal of darkness which make the film stand out in his canon. While not held in terribly high regard by most Hitch enthusiasts, I would name Frenzy as being one of his two or three best films.

After years of self-imposed exile from his homeland, Hitchcock makes a triumphant return to London, and the early sections of the movie show a director sending a big coming-home Valentine to his native land. But the movie is more than that; the attitude quickly becomes dark, sour and sardonic. A British official (John Boxer) giving a speech on pollution is interrupted by the discovery of a body in the river beneath him. Two Englishmen have a rather dark discussion about serial killers and their "appropriateness" in London; indeed, London is the home of Jack the Ripper, so a serial killer on the prowl is business as usual for most. Unlike Americans, the British are rather blasé about the prospect of a murderer in their midst. This essentially British attitude pervades the film, as Hitchcock employs his trademark dark humor to accentuate the violence going on around him.

The movie has several striking images and scenes which make it stand out. The most obvious is the murder of Barbara Leigh-Hunt, an uncomfortably long and graphic scene of rape and violence, where Hitchcock takes full advantage of the increasingly lax censorship. The shot of Leigh-Hunt's corpse with its tongue dangling out is extremely chilling. Even more effective is the murder of Babs, as Hitchcock sets us up, then pans back through the apartment and out into the bustling street - a bravura piece of film making that says more than another, equally graphic strangulation could have. The scene where Rusk rides a potato truck to recover a bit of evidence from one of his victims (another typical Hitchcock device - making us sympathize with the killer) is effectively suspenseful. The scenes of comedy, particularly the Inspector's gourmet dinners with his wife (Vivien Merchant), go along with rather than provide relief from the violent goings-on in the main plot. And the denouement is classic Hitch.

Another ingenious twist is the character of Dick Blaney. Blaney is another Hitchcockian "wrong man" who, seemingly trapped by circumstantial evidence and afraid of the police, goes on the run, seemingly implicating himself. But unlike previous such characters - Henry Fonda in The Wrong Man, Grace Kelly in Dial M For Murder, Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief and North By Northwest - Blaney is a completely surly, unlikeable character who nags his ex-wife, carries on in public, and is a complete an utter jerk (as evidenced by a surprisingly affective shot where he tramples a box of grapes on the street). Bob Rusk, by contrast, is cheerful, friendly and helpful - when he's not strangling women, of course. It's very hard to work up much sympathy for Blaney; while some consider this a drawback, I'd actually consider it a benefit, and it's an intriguing twist on a hoary old idea that Hitchcock pulls of brilliantly.

The cast is uniformly excellent. Hitchcock probably benefits from the lack of established stars; the B- and C-list actors here are probably better for not having the baggage of a screen persona with them. Jon Finch pulls off his rather difficult character well, avoiding the temptation to make Blaney likable. Barry Foster turns in a chillingly effective performance as Rusk, making him one of Hitchcock's greatest villains. Anna Massey and Barbara Leigh-Hunt are both charming, while Jean Marsh is effective as the cold-hearted, man-hating secretary who is key in convicting Blaney. Alex McCowan and Vivien Merchant provide several scenes of hysterical black humor as the Investigator and his wife. Clive Swift, Billie Whitelaw, Elsie Randolph and Michael Bates round out the cast nicely.

Frenzy is arguably the best of Hitchcock's later efforts, and it stands up very well even next to his best work. By adding a few neat twists and a welcome edge of darkness, the Master of Suspense creates another masterful thriller.

9/10

Juno (2007)

A very mixed bag

Juno MacGuff (Ellen Paige) is a quirky, motor-mouthed, vulgar and stuck-up 16 year old girl living in the middle of nowhere, Minnesota with her equally quirky stepparents (JK Simmons and Allison Janney). Her life changes drastically when she gets knocked up by her friend, track star Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera). Rejecting abortion as an option, Juno decides to allow the baby to come to terms - deciding to give the baby to Mark (Jason Bateman) and Vanessa (Jennifer Garner), a childless couple who desperately want a baby. As Juno comes to term, she realizes the depth of her feelings for Paulie, but also discovers Mark and Vanessa may not be as happy as they seem - forcing Juno to wonder whether she can possibly have a happy relationship.

Juno announces the kind of movie it is right off the bat. A teenage girl drinking a quart of Sunny D walking down the street turning to animation and moody theme music? After that, you can't really make a mistake about the kind of film you're going to see. This isn't really my kind of movie, in spite of recommendations by friends and critics. It's an awkward cross between a snappy indie film and a typically vulgar teen flick. It succeeds in that it occasionally makes a good point and features some well-drawn characters. It fails in being a comedy or having a sympathetic protagonist, which prevent me from liking it any more than I do.

I have a decidedly weird and varied sense of humor. I like Monty Python and SpongeBob SquarePants as much as His Girl Friday or Sports Night. Hell, I find ESPN's Around the Horn side-splittingly hilarious. Witty barbs, pratfalls and gross-out humor are equally appealing to me, if done right.

Juno, however, falls under the category I despise. Diablo Cody's idea of wit is simply smart-ass, vulgar quips spouted off at a machine-gun rate. I did not laugh out loud once through the whole movie - a few smiles, and maybe a snicker or two, but that's it. Particularly repulsive were Juno's monologues about "pork swords" and the like, the hipster grocer, sight gags about condoms, underwear and Tic-Tacs. Wonderfully well-developed wit, that is. Juno's constant stream of faux-hipster slang ("Honest to blog!") is equally cringe-inducing. Okay, some people on planet Earth talk like that. But on what planet does everyone? And on what planet does such a script win an Oscar?

And then there's Juno. It was certainly an interesting choice to make Juno an unlikeable character, but it's not really a successful one. Ellen Page is extremely unlikeable as she spouts Cody's pathetic excuse for humor. She comes across as a mean-spirited, smug, and superior. Her attitude towards the whole situation is believable, but her position on the baby is troubled; she doesn't want to abort it, but she has no remorse over giving it up for adoption? She doesn't develop the slightest feelings for the baby? It's hard to really care for such an individual. I do know people like Juno in real life, but I don't care for them, either. Only towards the end does Juno develop into a sympathetic character, which is fine, but hardly compensates for the first 70-plus minutes of smartass-itude.

And yet, the film has some strong redeeming qualities. The adult characters are surprisingly well-developed and overshadow their teen counterparts. Jennifer Garner is given a really sensitive and subtle character to work with, and she shines. Jason Bateman is equally good as her troubled husband; his relationship with Juno is very well-developed and adds an intriguing sideline to the main story. JK Simmons has some fine moments, and it's impossible not to find humor in an Allison Janney performance. Michael Cera as Bleeker is likable without having any real depth.

The movie succeeds in the last half-hour or so, when it shifts gears from being a faux-hip comedy to a fairly serious exploration of the subject matter. Juno's attempts to discover whether its possible to have a long-term relationship shows a level of maturity the rest of the film sorely lacks; her key scene with her dad and her final scenes with Bleeker are touching and believable. The movie's resolution somewhat bothers me; as mentioned above, can we really believe that Juno would have ZERO feelings about the baby? But the sweet ending does a decent job of glossing over this point, so perhaps complaining about it is pedantic.

Juno is a decidedly mixed bag. The target audience undoubtedly loves it, but I don't. Give me Aaron Sorkin or even Ten Things I Hate About You over the turgid excuse for comedy, but I can hang onto the character development and story ideas. But to my dying day, I'll never understand how this film was worthy of a Best Picture nomination.

6/10

Queimada (1969)

Ambitious but extremely flawed cinematic polemic

Sir William Walker (Marlon Brando sporting a ridiculous blond wig) is a British agent sent to the sugar-rich Portuguese island of Queimada in the mid-19th Century. Walker's mission is to incite the island's slave population to revolt against their Portuguese masters, in order to open the island for British colonization. Walker manipulates humble porter Jose Dolores (Evaristo Marquez) into helping him rob a bank; this kick-starts a series of events in which Dolores becomes the head of an island-wide slave revolt. However, Walker has also manipulated the white landowners into declaring independence, and Dolores and his black colleagues are side-lined by the new government, which immediately opens trade relations with British sugar companies. Ten years later, Walker returns, this time accompanied by British troops, to find that Dolores has incited another revolt - and Walker is forced to put down the very revolution he started.

Queimada! is Gillo Pontecorvo's big-budget, ambitious follow-up to The Battle of Algiers. The movie seethes with the anti-colonialism and barely-restrained anger of Pontecorvo's masterpiece, but is seriously flawed in a number of important areas, which balance out the film's fascinating story and political themes.

Pontecorvo's film certainly conveys its message very well. Walker's actions to methodically secure the island are simply fascinating. He manipulates every group on-hand, focused solely on his expedient political goals. As in today's foreign policy, actions are undertaken for short-term victories, even if they backfire in the long term. Walker incites a black slave rebellion, then keeps it under control by convincing a group of white landowners to seize the capital city - an easy victory which gives Queimada a "presentable" government. Nevermind the part Dolores and his blacks played in the revolt; although no longer "slaves", their "liberation" results in their being even worse-off than before - even though the new government improves infrastructure and builds up the country - leading to a new revolt by the same rebels. Finally, when the government proves ineffective, they are disposed of by the very people who propped them up - and British soldiers intervene directly in the conflict, escalating the brutality. Though successful, these policies are also counterproductive - by burning the sugar cane forests to root out rebel forces, the British destroy the very reason they came to the island - to monopolize on its sugar. Thus, this imperialist war becomes nothing more than an exercise in pride and brutality.

All of this rings true. It is certainly pertinent to today's situations in Iraq and Afghanistan (if not as much as it was to the contemporary Vietnam conflict), showing that the more things change, the more they stay the same. On this level, the film is mostly successful.

However, the film's primary failure is in its direction. Pontecorvo's static, unemotional cinema verite style worked well with Battle of Algiers; the use of non-actors in key roles enhanced the film's realism. Pontecorvo employs the same techniques here (although the supporting cast is fleshed out with a handful of British and Italian character actors), and yet mostly fails. This is because Algiers was a relatively modest docudrama set within one city; Queimada is (or tries to be) a large-scale historical epic, and the static visual style and direction cause many of the film's major set-pieces to falter. Most of the film's action, both political and military, happen off-screen; usually, we only learn about the effects afterward. What we do see are brief snippets, which vary in effectiveness. The movie has its share of visually stunning sequences - the march of the slave army, the execution scenes, and Walker watching the massacre of rebels through an eyeglass - but on the whole, the effect is underwhelming.

The movie also lacks strong central characters. Algiers had Jean Martin's coolly professional Colonel Matthieu and Brahim Haigag's Ali La Pointe, who goes from street punk to principled revolutionary. The equivalent characters in Queimada, Walker and Dolores, are cartoonish by comparison. Although his actions are fascinating, Walker himself is not a well-drawn character; he effectively stands for the ideas he represents, but nothing more. Brando's performance is surprisingly subdued, but his wig, accent and the screenplay undermine his best efforts. Evaristo Marquez's Dolores is similar; he is more of an idea than a character, and unlike in Algiers, the casting of a non-actor does not work. In this case, it simply undermines the character. Neither character has much depth or development through the picture, and thus neither is really interesting. The supporting cast is made up of even more cartoonish stereotypes, and hardly worth a mention; only Renato Salvatori as the hapless President of Queimada makes any impression.

For all its ambition, Queimada! is something of a disappointment. Although it makes its points broadly and well, as a movie it doesn't quite work. It is ultimately one of those films that is more interesting than entertaining.

Bamboozled (2000)

Lee sets up a great film, then misses the mark

TV writer Pierre Delacroix (Damon Wayans) is tired of having his TV concepts rejected by the studio. Accused by his ultra-"hip" white boss Dunwitty (Michael Rappaport) of not being "black" enough, an enraged Pierre comes up with an outlandish idea: a modern-day minstrel show, complete with black-face, musical revue numbers, racial epithets, and the most ridiculous stereotypes imaginable. He enlists the aide of his reluctant secretary Sloane (Jada Pinkett Smith) and two street dancers Manray and Womack (Savion Glover and Tommy Davidson) desperate for a buck. Pierre is flabbergasted when the network accepts the show, and then becomes a pop culture phenomenon. But not everyone enjoys the racial epithets the show provides, and the Maumaus, a group of wannabe gangstas/rappers, decide to take matters into their own hands - with tragic results.

Spike Lee's "Bamboozled" is certainly an ambitious film. It is an unremittingly vicious satire of the portrayal of blacks in popular media, a topic all too open to attack from Lee's inflammatory eye. However, having set up a potentially great and scathing satire, Bamboozled ultimately fails by being just too broad and over-the-top in its target.

Lee is certainly right in attacking media portrayal of African-Americans. And for the early sections, it works. The most effective is the portrayal of pop culture - namely gangsta rap and hip-hop. The Maumaus are ridiculous posers who don't even notice that one of their number is white. The TV ads for Blow Cola and Timmi Hiln!gger showcase the artificiality and toxic nature of gangsta culture. Women are hos, bitches, and sluts; the men are cool because they do drugs and kill people. Lee's double-edged sword goes after the white media (embodied by the embarrassingly patronizing boss Dunwitty) for perpetuating such images, but also the blacks who embrace it. Very few societal targets, regardless of race or position, escape Lee's critical eye. The film's use of clips from minstrel shows of the past, as well as cartoons and other caricature portrayals, as well as the commentary of Sloane, to make the point reverberate. All of this is brilliantly done, and the witty dialog and character interactions of the first half indicate that Lee has winner on his hands.

But the film ultimately fails due to the methods it employs. Seriously... is there a sentient human being alive who thinks that there would be a TV audience for a MINSTREL SHOW? Black face is such an inherently, blatantly offensive concept that it's impossible to take it seriously. For lack of a better word, it's overkill. And by showing it again and again, Lee rather overdoes (and undermines) his point. We get it; this show is racist and humiliating. Wouldn't Lee have better made his point by keeping the focus on the contemporary equivalent, or at least gone about it in a more subtle manner?

Of course, "Bamboozled" is a satire, so hyperbole is expected. But, there are limits to this, particularly within the media of film. Be too outlandish and over-the-top, and the point is lost. Jonathan Swift's "A Modest Proposal" works because it is a written essay, where the venom beneath Swift's seemingly earnest tone is almost undetectable. In "Bamboozled", however, we see starkly outrageous images of minstrel shows about black-faced, watermelon-eating, chicken-stealing blacks (and the black-faced fans who love and emulate them). And that image in and of itself blots out the point Lee is trying to make with such images. We don't remember that the media is demeaning towards blacks; we remember the minstrel show.

The movie is also damaged by its cop-out ending, which uses violence as an easy solution to the problems it has set up. One could argue that Lee was attempting to show the detrimental effects Delacroix's show had on society. Thanks, but I'm not buying that. Whatever justice that argument has is killed by the ham-fisted, rushed way the climax is executed.

The acting is uniformly solid. Damon Wayans, an actor I usually dislike, makes Pierre an intriguing character. Pierre's descent into hell - ultimately embracing the stereotypes he presents through his work - is fascinating. Jada Pinkett-Smith gives a quietly effective performance as the film's conscience, although her actions at the end seem ridiculously out-of-character. Savion Glover and Tommy Davidson are both extremely likable as two characters who slowly realize what they're doing is wrong. Michael Rappaport's hopeless studio VP is hysterical, and provides some of the film's best moments.

In short, "Bamboozled" is an extremely ambitious film that starts out great, then becomes so outlandish and over-the-top its point is obscured. Regardless, one should note it is very much a point worth making.

6/10

His Girl Friday (1940)

Quite possibly, the funniest film ever made

Walter Burns (Cary Grant) is a smooth (and fast)-talking, amoral newspaper reporter who will do literally anything for a story. Hildy Johnson (Rosalind Russell) is Walter's snappy ex-wife, who is threatening to retire from the newspaper business and settle down with Bruce Baldwin (Ralph Bellamy), a well-meaning, mild-mannered sap. Walter's quest to prevent Hildy from leaving the paper reaches ridiculous extremes, as death row inmate Earl Williams (John Qualen) breaks out of prison. As the police hunt Williams, Walter draws Hildy back into the business - leaving poor Bruce taking the fall for everything. It all builds, of course, to a ridiculous, over-the-top, feverish climax, as Walter and Hildy are hiding Williams from the police, the Mayor (Clarence Kolb), and, perhaps more importantly, from their fellow journalists.

"His Girl Friday" is the epitome of the screwball comedy - the genre of rapid-fire dialog and misunderstandings which snowball to gigantic proportions. And what a film it is. A fabulous cast and amazing script propel this flick to stratospheric heights. Its amazingly fast-paced jokes, lovable cynicism, fabulous cast, and overall outrageousness make for a hilarious combination. I can't think of a single comedy I've enjoyed more than this film.

The film contains an extremely cynical outlook on the world. The depiction of journalism is either flattering or damning, depending on your point of view. On the one hand, we see journalists depicted as scheming, conniving, amoral jerks, who will literally do anything to get a story - including manipulating and trampling everyone else. Walter of course devotes everything he has to winning Hildy back - including legally dubious methods - and get the big scoop, which for once may be complimentary motives. The murderer, Earl Williams, and his alleged "sweetheart" Molly are used as pawns by everyone - the journalists eager for a story, and the politicians hoping to get re-election. This isn't even to mention poor hopeless Bruce, who finds himself the butt of everything that's going on. On the other hand... can we really fault them? After all, Cary Grant and Rosalind Russel are so witty, snappy, and sexy that it's impossible to side against them. And hey, the politicians are doing it too - and who can side with the ineffectual Sheriff or the scheming Mayor, with an even more callous disregard for human life? It's a dog-eat-dog world, and when everybody is a jack-off (or a helpless loser), side with the cool guys.

Hawks' direction is marvelous; the film isn't visually astounding, although the use of shadows in the jail and courtyard scenes are effective, but his handling of the actors and story are extraordinary. Hawks and writer Charles Lederer also make a great improvement over the source material (the play "The Front Page" by Charles MacArthur and Ben Hecht) by making Hildy a woman. This seems like a minor difference at first, but it unquestionably enhances the chemistry and relationship between the two actors, making Walter's manipulation of Hildy more urgent and endearing.

All other considerations aside, you have to give His Girl Friday at least one point: This is undoubtedly THE fastest-talking movie of all time. Charles Lederer's script is filled with endless zingers, comebacks, and wit - along with amusing ad-libs (mostly by Cary Grant - you know the ones). And the actors are absolute naturals at it. This kind of humor makes modern comedies like "The 40 Year Old Virgin", "Meet the Parents", and even "The West Wing" (its closest modern counter-part) look lame in comparison.

Cary Grant is an old hand at this genre (Arsenic and Old Lace, Bringing Up Baby) and his Walter Burns is a wonderful character, obnoxious yet charming throughout. His motives would be sweet if it weren't for the situation - and the methods. Rosalind Russel matches him quip for quip as the extremely sexy "modern woman" Hildy. The whole supporting cast is fabulous. Ralph Bellamy makes the sad-sack Bruce an endearingly honest fall guy. John Qualen as the criminal and Helen Mack as his "girlfriend" contribute amusing characters, who find themselves trapped in the ridiculous webs of journalism and politics. The whole supporting cast - Gene Lockhart as the inept Sheriff, Abner Biberman as Walter's pickpocket buddy, Martha Kern as Bruce's beleaguered mother, and Porter Hall, Ernest Truex, and Cliff Edwards (among others) as journalists - are fabulous. If even one actor were off their game, this film wouldn't work - but everyone down to the extras is fabulous.

In conclusion... what more can there be to say? His Girl Friday is perhaps THE greatest comedy of all time. See it, laugh your ass off, lather, rinse, repeat. You won't regret it.

10/10

The Horse's Mouth (1958)

A hysterically funny film, with one of Alec Guinness's greatest performances

Gulley Jimson (Alec Guinness) is an eccentric, vulgar, misanthropic amateur painter who is struggling to make ends meat. When he divorced his wife (Renee Houston), she took all of his paintings to settle a debt. His former patron, A.W. Alabaster (Arthur Macrae), won't return his calls (to be fair, most of them are vulgar and threatening). Gulley finds a patron in Sir William Beeder (Robert Coote), who commissions him to make a wall mural. Aided by a cast of silly characters - his coarse but loving mistress Dee Coker (Kay Walsh), an obnoxious sculptor (Michael Gough), an air-headed model (Gillian Vaughan) and Nosey (Mike Morgan), a naive admirer of his - Gulley struggles to fulfill his artistic desires in spite of everything.

"The Horse's Mouth" presents Alec Guinness at the pinnacle of his career. Having built up a career as a star through the early films of David Lean and the quirky, immensely popular Ealing comedies, Guinness had become an international superstar after his Oscar-winning role in Bridge on the River Kwai. Guinness produced, co-wrote, and starred in this film, one of his finest achievements.

Attempting to write a plot summary was hard work. Like many if not most great comedies, the plot is secondary to the characters, particularly Gulley. "The Horse's Mouth" continues the anarchic spirit of Guinness's Ealing films, building on and arguably surpasses it. Like Charlie Chaplin's Little Tramp, Jacques Tati's Monsieur Hulot, Peter Sellers' Inspector Clouseau, Rowan Atkinson's Mr. Bean, and other comic figures, Gulley bumbles from one situation to another; however, it is not clumsiness which produces this (for the most part), but deliberate design. Gulley flaunts societal rules and weasels his way into high society, taking advantage of societal politeness to get what he wants. Unlike most such characters, however, he has a goal - to create art. It makes him short-sighted, narrow-minded, and arrogant - as he realizes in a brief moment of clarity - but that hardly matters to him. Even when Gulley becomes recognized for his work towards the end, he remains unsatisfied. Whether Gulley is a great artist is not the point (and he's pretty obviously not) - it's something he has to do, and he'll do much anything to express himself.

Alec Guinness shows his full talent as an actor and comedian here. His biggest asset as an actor is his anonymity - he can play any character, regardless of class, position, personality, time period, even race and gender. Witness his eight-way performance in "Kind Hearts and Coronets", his demented Professor Marcus ("The Ladykillers"), the mild-mannered criminal Holland ("Lavender Hill Mob"), the naive idealist Sidney Stratton ("Man in the White Suit"). And that's just his Ealing films. Guinness is an amazing actor, able to alter his appearance, voice, and the most subtle of mannerisms to create a whole new persona. Not only is Guinness a great actor, but also a fabulous comedian - able to use his abilities to create unforgettably amusing characters.

Gulley Jimson is a fascinating character. Not every actor could have pulled it off, but Guinness does it brilliantly. Guinness makes full use of his abilities - the raspy voice, which he alters at appropriate moments, his gestures and movements, which range from broad slapstick flailing to subtle facial and hand gestures. The supporting cast is good, particularly Kay Walsh at her Cockney best and Michael Gough's obnoxious sculptor - but it's Alec's show the whole way.

"The Horse's Mouth" is a film that must be seen to be enjoyed. Its wonderful mix of anarchic, irreverent yet playful humor and one of the best performances by one of cinema's greatest actors will be a treat for any film fan.

8/10

Roman Holiday (1953)

Utterly charming and lovable

Princess Ann (Audrey Hepburn) is the beautiful heiress to an Eastern European country who is on a goodwill tour of Europe. During her stay in Rome, she becomes sick of her routine and sneaks out of her hotel - unfortunately while under the influence of a sedative. Ne'er-do-well American journalist Joe Bradley (Gregory Peck) accidentally comes across Ann and after realizing who she is, enlists photographer buddy Irving Radovich (Eddie Albert) to give her a tour of Rome while covertly creating a big news story around her. Exploring Rome and avoiding detection from the police, Ann and Joe fall for each other - but both are forced to face up to their respective duties in the end.

The charms of "Roman Holiday" have been described a million times over, and undoubtedly better than I possibly could. The leads are utterly charming and lovable, the Roman scenery is gorgeous, the story is a wonderfully enjoyable fantasy, the humor is slight and unsophisticated yet remains charming and funny. For sheer enjoyment, it's hard to find a better film, which proves arguably the greatest romantic comedy of all time.

The film largely succeeds on the petite shoulders of Audrey Hepburn, only 23 when this film came out. Having appeared in bit roles in a number of British films (check out her walk-on in "The Lavender Hill Mob" with Alec Guinness and Stanley Holloway) and as the star of the Broadway show "Gigi", Hepburn was on the verge of stardom already. But this film catapulted her over the top, and Hepburn immediately became one of Hollywood's most recognizable and popular icons - a superstar of the type rarely seen today.

Audrey Hepburn is simply adorable as Princess Ann, the spoiled, sheltered European princess who wants to enjoy the simple pleasures of life - having a gellato, attending a dance, getting a haircut, riding a Vespa through the streets of Rome. Audrey has a perfect combination of innocence, beauty and insouciance in this role; she seems like a petulant child, but is so lovable and sweet it's impossible to hold it against her. And certainly, by the end of the film, Ann comes to realize the importance of her role as a Princess. The scene where Ann stands up to her scolding minders shows a much stronger and deeper character than we could have guessed from her early scenes.

Audrey Hepburn's status as an icon, of fashion, class, grace, beauty, and humanitarianism cannot be overstated. Audrey is a timeless symbol of femininity who is much more relate-able to the average girl than, say, Marilyn Monroe or Sophia Loren. Millions of girls worldwide aspire to be Audrey Hepburn, because she made being a slim, small, shy girl - qualities usually frowned upon in Hollywood and the media - something desirable. Marilyn might be more overtly sexual, but Audrey's screen persona is a believable "real woman" with relate-able personality and desires. She may not be the most versatile actress in Hollywood history, but she was one of the most honest and lovable. And here, in her first major film role, Audrey showcases why.

Gregory Peck is also charming. I'm not inordinately fond of Peck, who even is best roles comes across as a bit stiff, but he is perfect for this role. Joe Bradley is convincing in all of his guises: a lovable, self-serving rogue, Anna's learned protector, and the honest, love-stricken man unwilling to betray the girl he loves. It's one of Peck's best roles, and he pulls it off beautifully.

Eddie Albert as Peck's photographer buddy, Hartley Power as his flustered boss, and Margaret Rawlngs as Anna's stern minder turn in effective supporting performances which add to the film as well.

"Roman Holiday" is just a classic film. Its status as an icon of cinema is well-deserved, and only the most bitter, mean-spirited cynic could possibly dislike it.

9/10

Vera Cruz (1954)

Enjoyably cynical, extremely influential Western

Defeated Confederate Colonel Ben Trane (Gary Cooper) drifts south into Mexico after the Civil War, hoping to sell his services to whichever army - the Juaristas or Emperor Maximillian (George Macready) and his French allies - offers better pay. The straight-laced Trane joins up with Joe Erin (Burt Lancaster), a grinning psychopath with a multi-racial gang of American criminals, gunslingers and deserters, and they are recruited by Maximillian's lackey, the Marquis de Labordere (Cesar Romero), to protect a French countess (Denise Darcel) being transported to Vera Cruz. Along the way, Trane and Erin discover the wagon is actually carrying gold, and a complicated series of schemes, tricks, and double-crosses between the Americans, the Countess, the French troops, and Juaristas under General Ramirez (Morris Ankrum) develops. It leads to an explosive climax as Erin and Trane join forces with the Juaristas, and Trane is torn between his chivalrous nature and his desire for gold.

"Vera Cruz" is an extremely important landmark in film history. Directed by leftist filmmaker Robert Aldrich (also responsible for such films as "Apache", "Attack!" and "The Dirty Dozen"), it paints a cynical portrayal of American intervention in Latin America and depicts gunslingers as, at best conflicted individuals, at worst mass murderers. The movie's influence can be seen in any number of films: "The Magnificent Seven", which could be read as a rebuttal to Aldrich's film; the Man With No Name Westerns of Sergio Leone and Clint Eastwood; Richard L. Brooks' equally cynical "The Professionals"; and Sam Peckinpah's "Major Dundee" and "The Wild Bunch". But "Vera Cruz" is more than just a bit of cinematic history. Although a bit dry and draggy in spots, "Vera Cruz" is, for most of its length, a largely entertaining and enjoyable Western.

For a film made in 1954, during the midst of the Cold War, with the conservative Westerns of John Wayne dominating the genre, "Vera Cruz" must have come as a shock. The film's characters are anything but the traditional white-hatted, two-fisted, unequivocally good heroes. Presaging Henry Fonda's villainous turn in "Once Upon a Time in the West" (albeit not in as extreme a fashion), Western icon Gary Cooper plays a character who, as outwardly chivalrous as he appears, cares only about money and is not above betrayal or double-crossing to get it. Ben Trane only becomes a noble warrior at the very end, and is driven to it mostly by the increasingly psychotic actions of Erin. Another classic Hollywood icon, Burt Lancaster, is even more extreme. Joe Erin dons a black outfit, spins and draws his pistol for fun, and sports a charming yet disconcerting grin. He is not above double-cross, trickery, or murder (even of his sidekicks and partners) to achieve his ends. While Erin seems a mirror image of the noble Trane, he is simply an uninhibited image of Trane himself.

The film's attitude towards violence is fairly casual and shockingly blunt. In the film's most affective scene, Erin, with his men surrounded by Ramirez's Juaristas, takes a small group of children hostage and threatens to kill them unless his opponent withdraws. Ramirez nobly intones, "Wars are not won by killing children", but this is perhaps the only example of chivalry in the film. The large scale action scenes are, if not graphic by modern standards, still pretty rough for 1954. We see a Juarista shot in the face by the Countess, a captured Juarista corralled and tortured by mounted French lancers, an epic, bloody climactic battle featuring machine guns and artillery, Erin grinning as he impales a French officer (Henry Brandon) on a lance, and the film's ending, where Erin, for no particular reason, shoots his only surviving sidekick Ballard (Arch Savage Jr.) in cold blood. And yet, despite all this, the violence is portrayed in a casual and frenetically enjoyable style. It's not at all difficult to see where Leone and Peckinpah got inspiration for characters like the Man With No Name, Tuco, and Pike Bishop. In this amoral world, all that matters is survival and gold, and not necessarily in that order. And, needless to say, no one can be trusted.

On a technical level, Aldrich's handling of the battle scenes and shootouts makes for rousing good fun, almost belying the message he is pushing. The final battle in particular is a well-staged bit of action. Ernest Laszlo's beautiful cinematography captures the action scenes and the gorgeous Mexican countryside in most flattering manner. James R. Webb and Roland Kibbee script is witty, quotable and enjoyably cynical, while Hugo Friedhoffer contributes a pretty good (if unremarkable) score.

Gary Cooper gives an excellent late-career performance as Ben Trane, the Southern gentleman whose mercenary instincts and ingrained chivalry come into conflict with one another. Burt Lancaster is well-cast as Joe Erin; he might grin a few too many times and chew a bit too much scenery, but given his reputation as an athletic, lovable hero his casting as the psychotic bad guy is very unsettling and effective. Reliable character actors Cesar Romero, George Macready, Henry Brandon, and Morris Ankrum turn in fine performances as the film's antagonists. Denise Darcel and the lovely Sara Montiel are well-cast as the film's femme fatales. And if you look among Lancaster's gang, you'll see Jack Elam, Ernest Borgnine, and Charles Bronson (nee Buchinsky) in bit roles.

"Vera Cruz" is a very entertaining film. While the pacing drags at times, particularly in the middle, its amoral, violent and cynical nature makes it an interesting ride. Beyond its status as a cinematic landmark is a damned enjoyable film, regardless of what one makes of it.

8/10

There Will Be Blood (2007)

Disappointing and empty film, with an amazing central performance

Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis) is an ambitious, slimy oil tycoon who begins building up an empire in the southwest using his considerable charm, his adoptive son H.W. (Dillon Freasier/Russell Harvard), and ruthless business acumen. He descends on the town of Little Boston, California, building a huge oil derrick and enriching the town. He clashes with Eli Sunday (Paul Dano), the fanatical young preacher, develops a strained relationship with his son (who is deafened in an accident), and solidifies his empire - but at the same time begins to unravel as a person.

"There Will Be Blood" has received mountains of acclaim, as one of the best films not only of the year, but of the decade - and by some, of all time. It's easy to see why, as the film has a great deal going for it: an interesting-on-paper story, impressive direction and cinematography, and most of all, an amazing performance by Daniel Day-Lewis. But at the heart of TWBB is an emptiness, which not even the greatest performance can assuage, and that is the character of Daniel Plainview.

The film begins promisingly, with a brilliant fifteen-minute opening scene devoid of dialogue, as Plainview and his associates dig out their first oil well. The introduction to Plainview as a slippery, manipulative man is well-done, and the first two hours or so are gripping. I sat engrossed, comfortable in knowing that all of the build-up would lead somewhere great. Unfortunately, towards the end, I realized that the opposite was true; the film wasn't leading anywhere, and indeed my enjoyment of it largely ended with a painfully contrived and ridiculous anti-climax.

The movie has a number of problems in narrative structure. It doesn't have much in the way of a traditional storyline. This is not inherently a bad thing, but the detached nature of the film makes it hard to care about what goes on. The only fully developed thread is the troubled relationship between Plainview and his son H.W., whom the former views as prop to manipulate his competitors and showcase his success. And even this is dropped like a potato at the end of the film. There is also the digressive nonsense of Plainview's "brother" (Kevin J. O'Conner) which adds nothing to the film.

Another flaw is the movie's lack of context. Though it is set in the early 1900's - a turbulent time when the US government led by Theodore Roosevelt, William Taft, and Woodrow Wilson were tearing down business monopolies - there is no political or historical context beyond super-titles and a few brief mentions of Standard Oil. As the film was essentially a character study, I wasn't expecting an in-depth examination of politics and history, but a few illusions to the time period beyond "1911" flashing on the screen would have helped. The attacks on the hypocrisy of religion and big business are socialist primer material (unsurprising given the source is an Upton Sinclair novel) and bring nothing new to the table.

The basic problem of the film is in its lead, Daniel Plainview. Not in Daniel Day-Lewis, mind you, who gives one of the greatest performances in recent memory, but in the character itself. Plainview would be an interesting supporting character or villain, a slimy, manipulative man who thoroughly hates everyone besides himself. But there really isn't any depth to Plainview, and thus the film has a hollow center. He doesn't develop over the course of the story; he remains the same character throughout, a bitter, greedy misanthrope, and after awhile he becomes little more than a caricature of an evil businessman.

The main reason to see this film is Daniel Day-Lewis. While I wasn't particularly enamored of his turn as Bill the Butcher, Day-Lewis's amazing turn as Plainview almost overcomes the script's shortcomings. Day-Lewis is a fascinating premise, and the brilliance of his performance conversely accentuates the weakness of his character. If it were in aide of something better, Plainview would be the most memorable character in the last twenty years of cinema. As it stands, it's still a remarkable achievement, and if Day-Lewis doesn't win an Oscar there is no justice.

Other than Day-Lewis, the cast is non-descript. Paul Dano has received acclaim for his performance as Eli Sunday, but the role requires little more than elementary ham acting. The film's climax in particular illustrate the weakness of his performance. There are a few names in the supporting cast (Ciaran Hinds, Kevin J. O'Connor), but they remain in the background throughout. Cinematography, music and direction by Paul Thomas Anderson are all fabulous, with memorable set-pieces such as the oil explosion and the aforementioned beginning stand-out, but they do little more than cover up the weakness at the heart of the film.

"There Will Be Blood" looks like it should be a great film, but it is a deeply flawed movie with a weak central character. Nonetheless, it's worth a look, and if nothing else Day-Lewis should make it interesting.

6/10

National Treasure (2004)

Good, brainless fun

As a boy, Benjamin Franklin Gates (Nicholas Cage) hears the story of a mysterious treasure hidden by the Founding Fathers from his grandpa (Christopher Plummer), and devotes his life to finding it. There are clues all over the world, which seem to lead to nothing but more clues, and his dad, Patrick (Jon Voight), urges him to give up. Benjamin and his techie sidekick Riley Poole (Justin Bartha) realize that the next clue is on the back of the Declaration of Independence, and end up stealing it. Enlisting the very reluctant help of Patrick and lovely scientist Abigail Chase (Diane Kruger), Ben seeks to find the treasure while being pursued by treacherous partner Ian (Sean Bean) and a cynical FBI Agent (Harvey Keitel).

"National Treasure" is a film which is enjoyable for reasons that can't be fully explained. On the face of it, I should find it an inescapably stupid film, which uses the fig leaf of history to cover up a shallow, crass, sub-Indiana Jones adventure film. And yet, I find myself amused by this movie, and it's definitely worth a look if you're not expecting anything profound.

Part of the appeal of these films is their very ridiculousness. The Freemasons and Illuminati have been the target of conspiracy-mongering and pop culture for years, but in this film we are treated to conspiracies and profundities undreamed of by even L. Fletcher Prouty. That the Founding Fathers would go to such immense trouble to hide such a HUGE treasure and then leave clues behind, scattered all over the world in extremely remote and unconnected places, only findable by Nicholas Cage is about as incredible as you can get. And yet, who cares? As second-rate pastiches of Indiana Jones, they could be a lot worse (especially considering that, as enjoyable as they are, the Indy films aren't particularly deep or plausible either). These movies aren't designed as anything deep, but rather, as something that will keep you entertained and then disappear from your mind until your next viewing.

The direction by Jon Turtletaub is thoroughly competent, a back-handed complement if there ever was one. The use of locations is something short of ingenious. The screenplay provides some good dialogue even if the story is literally all over the place. The action scenes are very curious; they're G-rated scenes actually, and even with guns going off and punches being exchanged, no one actually gets killed by violence throughout the whole film. As such they lack any real power, and yet manage to be compelling in a strange way.

The acting in these films is besides the point. Everyone is having a fun time and create passably likable ciphers. Nicholas Cage is well-cast in the lead, while Diane Kruger and Justin Bartha contribute pleasant if slight characters in support. Sean Bean seems to be the only one giving a performance, while Jon Voight, Christopher Plummer, and Harvey Keitel are clearly along for the ride. But in a film like this, no one's expecting the Royal Shakespeare Company.

So, in short, "National Treasure" is a watchable, reasonably entertaining action/adventure film if you can put your brain on hold for its run time. Just sit back and enjoy the fun.

6/10

National Treasure: Book of Secrets (2007)

More of the same, and I mean that in a kinda good way

Picking up where we left off from the first "National Treasure", Benjamin Gates (Nicholas Cage) and his father Patrick (Jon Voight) are riding high off their successful treasure-finding in the first film. But things change rapidly when girlfriend Abigail (Diane Kruger) leaves him, Riley Poole (Justin Bartha) tries to cash in for himself, and more importantly, an archaeologist named Mitch Wilkinson (Ed Harris) comes forward with evidence implicating Ben's family in the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. As in the first film, Ben enlists the help of his buddies - this time adding his estranged mother (Helen Mirren) - to engage in an improbable globe-trotting expedition to clear his family name, with Mitch and his henchmen in hot pursuit.

"National Treasure: Book of Secrets" is virtually identical to the 2004 original. The same plot, same improbable conspiracy theories, most of the same characters, lots of Goldbergian traps, locks, and devices, and a ridiculous storyline that defeats any attempt to think it through, and if you're the right sort of person, allows you to sit back with a wide grin of incredulity as the madness unspools.

It's hard to describe the appeal of these films. The cast is made up of reasonably talented actors with very slight and ridiculous material. The story makes no sense, and the action scenes are a curious combination of weak (no one actually gets killed except by "accident") and enjoyable. The Masonic conspiracy theories are too far-fetched for even Jim Marrs or Chris Carter to accept (Mount Rushmore was constructed to hide the Seven Cities of Gold? Come on now!). The very idea of someone infiltrating Buckingham Palace or the White House - or kidnapping the President (Bruce Greenwood), however briefly - is just ridiculous. But as resident funny-man Riley so clearly points out: "We make our living off crazy".

In the acting department, Nicholas Cage, Diane Kruger, Justin Bartha, and Jon Voight pretty much give the same performances as they do last time. They're pleasant enough, if not particularly compelling characters to watch, which is all the material requires of them. In the Sean Bean role, Ed Harris chews scenery and spouts a reasonably convincing Southern accent, although his character changes from evil to sympathetic . Fresh from her Oscar win, Helen Mirren tosses off an amusing performance as Ben's mom. Bruce Greenwood contributes a warm grin or two to the proceedings and then bows out. Harvey Keitel's large-ish role in the original as the bemused FBI Agent pursuing Ben and Co. is reduced to a cameo.

So, what can I say? If you liked the first one, you'll like this. They're virtually the same film, and I mean that in a good way - kinda.

6/10

Atonement (2007)

Flawed, poorly paced but beautiful epic film

In 1930's England, Briony Tallis (Saorise Ronen) is an aspiring writer and excitable young girl. She lives with her family on an idyllic British homestead, with her sister Cecilia (Keira Knightley) and grounds-keeper Robbie (James McAvoy) tip-toeing around a fierce mutual attraction. But then a series of events between the two are seen and misinterpreted by Briony, which ultimately lead Briony to accuse Robbie of raping her friend, 15 year old Lola (Juno Temple). Several years later, World War II is raging, Robbie is stranded in France as the British army limps to Dunkirk, and Briony (Romola Garai) and Cecilia are estranged from one another, serving as nurses in different parts of the country. With Cecilia and Robbie determined to get together, Briony must figure out how to atone for her mistake before its consequences become irrevocable.

Joe Wright's adaptation of Ian McEwan's "Atonement" has the feel and look of a David Lean epic, not to mention "The English Patient". A tragic love story, well-drawn, flawed characters, a wartime setting, and a series of striking images are all present. Unfortunately, "Atonement" doesn't live up to the aforementioned films, and though entertaining, it contains a number of serious flaws.

The story and character of Briony are what make "Atonement" so interesting. As an impressionable, inexperience young girl, Briony finds herself living through an extremely traumatic day. He sees Robbie apparently forcing Cecilia to dive into a fountain, accidentally deliver a vulgar message, and "raping" her in the library, before coming across her friend being assaulted. As a thirteen year old, her reaction is understandable, and I don't entirely side with the anti-Briony faction of viewers. Unfortunately, she decides that her confused version is the gospel truth, leading to jail and military service for Robbie and Cecilia's estrangement from family. As she's older, will she be able to fix what she did wrong, or has Fate taken it out of her hands? The relationship between Robbie and Cecilia is sweet, but in terms of interest the deeply conflicted Briony is squarely in the foreground. She is a very well-drawn character, and its to the credit of both the writers and the three actresses playing Briony that she works so well, and even elicits a significant amount of sympathy.

The film has several serious flaws, the most of which is hard to describe in a review: pacing. Even though the film is only 130 minutes, it seems a lot longer, with many sections dragging on and on. For an epic film, maintaining interest for its length is essential, and poor pacing is perhaps the worst thing that can happen. For a two hour film to seem like three or more is a serious handicap. Some of the film's stylistic choices are a bit much, for instance showing Briony's seeing an event and then showing how it "really" happened, as well as some of the slow-motion, and "re-wind" scenes. Many flashback scenes are also done in a disconcerting manner that irritates rather than intrigues.

The film has striking cinematography by Seamus MacGarvey, capturing the beautiful English countryside and the horror of war-torn France. The celebrated tracking shot at Dunkirk is well-done, although not impressive in the strictest sense. But the movie has its fair share of striking images in quieter moments to compensate: Robbie watching a bomber plane through his skylight window, the French soldier with a fatal head wound, a group of executed school girls in a field (a scene which recalls the cadet scene in "Doctor Zhivago"). On a purely visual level, the film is a masterpiece.

While I will not reveal it here, the film's climax came completely out of left field, and in a good way. It's one of the most tragic conclusions to a film ever, and the ending is the definition of bittersweet, in my opinion. It goes a long way towards redeeming many of the movie's flaws.

The acting is generally good. Briony is clearly the main character, and all three actresses - Saorise Ronen, Romola Garai, and Vanessa Redgrave - do a brilliant job with her complicated character. James McAvoy balances charm and bitterness as Robbie, and he is definitely on his way to becoming an A-list star. Keira Knightley is tolerable, but this film convinces me that she's just not a very good actress. The supporting cast is more or less non-descript.

"Atonement" has the look and feel of a great epic, and succeeds in being intriguing through most of its length. Poor pacing and a few questionable style elements prevent this from being a truly great film, but that doesn't keep it from being enjoyable.

7/10

Werewolf (1995)

One Night in Bangkok Makes a Strong Man Crumble!

In Arizona, a bunch of strangely-accented scientists led by the psychopathic Yuri (George Rivero) comes across the skeleton of the Yamaglanchi (sic, who cares?), a Native American Werewolf. Yuri and his partner Noel (Richard Lynch) decide it would be fun to turn random people into werewolves, in hope that they might profit in. One of their victims is Paul (Federico Cavalli), a young writer who falls in love with research assistant Natalie Burke (Adrianna Miles). Also lurking around is Joe Estevez as a superstitious worker whose job is restricted to standing around looking frightened.

"Werewolf" is just plain bad. One of the most unintentionally funny movies of all time, it's about on the same level as an Ed Wood film or (God forbid) Manos: the Hands of Fate.

Rather than do a comprehensive essay, I'll just list some stuff bitching about the movie's various shortcomings:

• What's with the accents? Granted, George Rivero is Mexican so I'll let him pass. But why are there so many Europeans running around Flagstaff? Are we supposed to think of them as Americans (it would appear so based on their surnames)?

• Sam the Keeper provided perhaps the funniest moments in the film, although I'm not sure why he felt compelled to tell Paul that "Count Dracula was a f*****", or where he got that information.

• "Sleeping like a coyote, nose to anus." Thanks for sharing that...

• Worst werewolf make-up ever, or rather, not too bad in and of itself, but inconsistent. In some shots, he looks like a Lon Chaney Wolf Man, but in others, like an actual wolf. Can anyone say... CONTINUITY?

• The werewolves in this movie are totally lame. All of them except Paul die about five minutes after transforming. Tommy gets sucker-punched a few times by a security guard and later shot by Joe Estevez and his buddy with little more than a whimper. The security guard dies in a car wreck a few minutes after transforming. Paul gets the snot beat out of him by a random guy on the street, whom he chooses to engage in a martial arts contest rather than just gnawing on him. Kinda hard to be scared of monsters that can get their lunch handed to them by Joe Average (or Joe Estevez for that matter).

• I take back what I said before: the security guard lycanthropizing while driving his car was the funniest scene, not only in this movie, but in any movie ever.

• Did they REALLY think nobody would notice the full moon being in EVERY SCENE?

• Adrianna Miles' as the air-headed Natalie was too funny... "This is absolutely fascinating!" "You and Paul is in this for fame and fortune? But over my dead body!" To be fair, her biggest problem was probably her incomplete command of the English language. She reminds me of a much dumber version of one of my best friends in high school (who was herself a red-haired German, but also happened to be pretty smart).

• How did Natalie become a werewolf?