Natural Born Killers (1994)

Oliver Stone gives us a film that is completely over the top in style, but completely brilliant.  He barely gives us time to get used to one style or angle before he’s on to the next one.  Now black and white, now colour, this angle, that angle; filmed through a camcorder; animation and a whole section done as a naff 70s sitcom (complete with canned laughter) about child abuse and wife-beating.

La Voyage dans la Lune (1902)

I think it’s hard to review La voyage dans la lune in the same way I do other films because of its age and uniqueness.  Certainly the film is an incredible achievement for 1902, with some impressive sets and some simple yet ingenious effects created by Georges Méliès.  Most striking is the image of the moon and the elegant way the camera slowly zooms in to reveal the face, just before the space rocket crashes in to one eye providing an iconic image of early cinema.

The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)

Klaatu, barada, nikto

Far from the CGI-heavy, plot-light 2008 version, this 1951 Sci Fi classic is a character-driven critique of cold war paranoia and burgeoning environmentalism.  Unfortunately due to its age it also slightly suffers from the shoot first ask questions later mentality that plagues movies of this era; though certainly not a deal-breaker in such a fine film.

Following Klaatu (Michael Rennie) as he learns about the human race, our insecurities, our aggression and our reckless treatment of our planet is really a window into 50s American society.  It’s quite striking how on the one hand the inhabitants of the B & B in which Klaatu stays accept him unquestioningly and let him look after the young lad, but at the same time everyone is mistrustful of strangers who might be a “Red”.  To be fair, the film doesn’t shy away from these issues; the Secretary of State admits to Klaatu that the “world is full of tensions and suspicions”; and indeed like all good Sci-Fi, the movie highlights our politics and society.

Forbidden Planet (1956)

The central premise of Forbidden Planet, that there is a darkness in all of us, lends itself perfectly to Sci-Fi; but for all the excellent sets and realised alien landscapes, I thought that I would have been more whelmed!

It was not the ravages of time that got to me (though it was particularly un-dynamic the way everyone shot at the Disney-rendered monster), rather that I just didn't buy the key relationship.  Of course Robbie the Robot is the real star of the show, his whirring and blooping is completely brilliant and the real stuff of Sci-Fi legend.  Walter Pidgeon is good as the stand-offish Dr Morbius and Anne Francis is suitably naive and uninhibited as Altaira.  An unrecognisable Leslie Nielsen is uncharismatic as Commander Adams, and it is the relationship between him and Altaira that just wasn't believable.  And that's rather crucial in terms of plot resolution.

This, and a rather ponderous tour of some excellent Krell technology means that Forbidden Planet fell short in my expectations of this cult classic.  But, well, you know, that’s just, like, er, my opinion, man.

The Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

To a new world of Gods and Monsters

I feel I’m starting to become a bit of a connoisseur of Frankenstein movies.  Though, as I’ve said before, I was spoiled early on by seeing Danny Boyle’s stage production starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller.  Both versions (the two leads swapped roles of Frankenstein and the monster) were fabulous and were closer to the source material than any of the movies I’ve seen yet.

The Bride of Frankenstein is the sequel to the original 1931 Frankenstein, again starring Boris Karloff as the monster and Colin Clive as Henry Frankenstein.  The film begins with some rather unnecessary exposition involving Mary Shelly, her husband and a Lord Byron who is ridiculously pompous and overacts.  The point is to remind us of the events of the first film, but despite some nice camera transition zooms, it’s a rather clumsy way to start the movie.

When the story properly begins it follows on immediately from the first film and we discover that the monster isn’t dead.  There is a certain amount of knees bent running about involving some more rent-a-lynch-mob action; but crucially the victimisation of the monster is far more convincing than in the first film.  The introduction of speech increases this misunderstanding.  Apparently Karloff thought that if the monster spoke it would ruin its “charm”, but I feel that the introduction of the blind man that helps him begin to communicate helps create empathy with the creature as he becomes more self aware.  In this scene in particular I thought Karloff showed his skill and really managed to create a sense of sadness and generate sympathy with the monster.

Aside from Karloff, the other crucial characters are Henry Frankenstein (still don’t know why he was renamed) played by Colin Clive, and Ernst Thesiger as Dr Pretorius.  Colin Clive has a great manic energy that he continues from the first film and improves on; even when he is refusing to do the experiments his guilt is rather eccentric.  Dr Pretorius is a calm collected counterpoint to Frankenstein, and is the driving force behind the new experiments.  His introduction is a touch bizarre; he shows Henry several live homunculi he has created, complete with individual personalities and squeaky voices.  It sounds better than it actually is, but I can understand the reason behind introducing Pretorius’ skill, and at least the special effects are surprisingly good.  Clive and Thesiger work really well together, and it is their relationship that helps drive the film to its conclusion.

This conclusion is of course the creation of the monster’s bride, and is a wonderful blend of glorious sets, brilliant lighting and dynamic direction.  As in the first film, James Whale makes excellent use of light and shadow, and nowhere is this better seen than when lightning is striking the creation. Frankenstein and Pretorius are filmed from above (looking down at them from the gods?) in shadow and their excited faces are suddenly lit by flashes of lightning.  It is a far more dramatic creation scene than the first film, and indeed Hammer’s Curse of Frankenstein.  It then culminates in Colin Clive’s iconic “It’s alive!”.  After all this superbity (new word), the final scene is a bit of a let down, and a self-destruct lever in the lab seems like a quick fix end to the film.  Shame.

A vast improvement over the first film, apart from a clunky beginning and a quick fix end, The Bride of Frankenstein captures far more of the spirit of the novel; both Frankenstein and his monster are victims, and Karloff’s performance generates real sympathy with the misunderstood creature.  The story demands less leaps of faith than the original film, and James Whale’s direction is sharper and more creative than before.   But, well, you know, that’s just, like, er, my opinion, man.

Dracula (1958)

Having previously been disappointed with Tod Browning's Dracula (1931) I was very keen to see Terence Fisher's vision starring a young Christopher Lee and a slightly less young Peter Cushing.  I wasn’t disappointed.

Where Lugosi's Prince of Darkness has designs on moving to London (and Mina's "beautiful neck"), writer Jimmy Sangster shuns Stoker's source material to a degree and crafts a story similar to Nosferatu in that all the action takes place in Germany (Karlstadt, only a few hours coach drive from Castle Dracula).  The familiar names are all there, but the relationships have often changed. Jonathan Harker is engaged to Lucy, who is Arthur's sister and Mina is Arthur's wife!  Dracula and Van Helsing are of course the same, but despite all these changes they do not grate the same way it did in Frankenstein (1931).

It goes without saying that Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing are fantastic.  Despite Dracula being one of the roles most synonymous with Lee, this is actually his 33rd film (I think) which is fairly incredible!  Where Lugosi was enigmatic and stilted, Lee is charismatic and full of energy; his Dracula is very active and physical which leads to a very dynamic movie as he desperately tries to stop Van Helsing.  Lee actually says very little.  Beyond welcoming Jonathan Harker to his castle and getting him settled in, he doesn’t actually say anything.  Which surprises me more that apparently he refused to say any lines in the script for Dracula: Prince of Darkness, as his Dracula is hardly verbose anyway.

Of course, where Lee is very physical, Cushing can match it.  Despite him looking not too far off Grand Moff Tarkin age, he is able to mix it with Lee in running around the excellent Gothic sets and fighting him off for a dramatic climax.  That’s not to say he is just “knees-bent running around”, most of the time he is the perfect Van Helsing using brain rather than brawn and displaying the same cold logic that he portrayed so well in Frankenstein Created Woman.  An honourable mention should go to Michael Gough (will later be Alfred in Tim Burton’s Batman films) who plays Arthur; he fits his story arc perfectly as a grieving family man who comes to realise the horror (slowly) of the situation and is then determined to protect those he loves.

I've already mentioned the Gothic sets, which are brilliantly created by production designer Bernard Robinson, who will become a Hammer Horror regular, working on the classics as well as Dracula: Prince of Darkness, Plague of Zombies, The Reptile and Rasputin: The Mad Monk to name a few.  Actually some of those were filmed back to back on the same sets; so he knew how to save some pennies too!  Terence Fisher’s direction is smooth and accomplished.  He seems to favour fluid tracking shots across a room, moving past pillars, columns and such like.  This way he shows off the great sets and creates a sense of scale that a static camera wouldn’t do; as well as mirroring the dynamic performances from the two main leads.

One of the happiest improvements over 1931 Dracula, is the moment Van Helsing explains that Dracula's ability to change into a bat or a wolf is a myth.  So no stupid rubber bats, or even armadillos (I'm still not sure why there were armadillos!) which instantly enhances the film’s credibility.  Great performances, smooth direction, smart story and wonderful sets.  I really enjoyed Dracula.  Now I’m looking forward to Hammer’s The Curse of Frankenstein and The Mummy.  But, well, you know, that’s just, like, er, my opinion, man.

Nosferatu (1922)

As part of this year’s Halloween programme, our local Picturehouse cinema The Belmont screened Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau’s 1922 horror film, Nosferatu.  This is the first time that the character of Dracula had been portrayed on the silver screen, though due to the inability to secure the rights to Bram Stoker’s novel, names and locations had to be changed.  Most notably Count Dracula becomes Count Orlok, and the location of the heroes moves to Germany; understandable as Murnau was German.  This all has no effect on the final product because Nosferatu is tremendous.

The plot really does follow that of Dracula: estate agent Hutter travels to Transylvania to help Count Orlok purchase a property in Wisbourg where Hutter and his wife live.  During Orlok's voyage across to Germany, all of the ship’s crew are mysteriously killed or disappear.  Once in Wisbourg, a mysterious plague strikes the inhabitants, blamed on infected rats brought ashore by the ship that carried Orlok.  Count Orlok himself makes Mrs Hutter his personal mission, ever since he noticed from a photograph that she “has a beautiful neck”!

Max Schreck is incredible as the sinister Count Orlok, certainly one of the most enigmatic and iconic portrayals of the Dracula character.  I’m not sure how tall he is, but the long slim coat he wears, the bald head and the pointy ears serve to make him look even taller and even more disquieting.  Shadows and lighting are used to tremendous effect, so that the audience shares the same dread that the characters do.  The shadows perhaps give even Raiders of the Lost Ark a run for its money, and it is obvious where Francis Ford Coppola got his inspiration for Dracula’s menacing shadows in his 1992 film.  Schreck has such an overwhelming presence that any time he is on screen, the viewer is sure that something terrible is about to happen.  In this way Orlok is as ominous as more contemporary baddies such as Darth Vader or Anton Chigurh; not bad for a silent movie from the 20s.

Of course there are noticeable technical issues due to sections of the film being lost, found and restored by one way or another, but none of these issues diminish the power of the film; the music and the presence of Max Schreck make sure of that.  The film is also perfectly paced, with a run time of little over 90 minutes it clips along at a fair old pace, but never feels rushed or that any important exposition scenes are cut out; I certainly didn’t have time to get bored.

In Nosferatu, Murnau created one of the most iconic horror villains ever to appear on film, and at the same time shot some of the most memorable scenes in cinematic history.  These shots have been oft copied in movies and are now an accepted cinematic technique; almost a prerequisite for a horror film.  A wonderfully atmospheric gothic horror with an incredible performance and evil presence from Max Schreck, Nosferatu changed the way horror was made, and also happens to be magnificent.  But, well, you know, that’s just, like, er, my opinion, man.

                                   

                                            

King Kong (1933)

Often considered to be the original and definitive monster movie, despite the animations reminding me of the old Chewits adverts, I nonetheless really enjoyed King Kong.  Only 100 min long it still manages to tell a story that feels that it should belong in a much longer film, however it is not an overbloated behemoth like PJ’s 187 min “monster” film.  Fay Wray is Ann Darrow, with whom Kong becomes obsessed; she does a very good job interacting with the animated monster.  She also manages to sell the fact that by end of the film, Kong has changed from the horrible protagonist of the first half of the film to a creature that deserves our sympathy.  Robert Armstrong as filmmaker Carl Denham and Bruce Cabot as Ann’s love interest John Driscoll are really peripheral characters to Fay Wray’s lead, but they both give solid performances and are completely believable within the terms of the movie.

I’ve mentioned how Kong is a little reminiscent of this, but the animation is ground-breaking for 1933, and the fight with the T-rex is still pretty damn impressive; especially when watching some of the animation 33 years later in One Million Years BC (yup as long again after the turn of the 20th century as King Kong).  What was also ground-breaking was composer Max Steiner’s idea to have the music to in time to the action.  For example when Kong is first trying to undress Ann Darrow; or at least this is what I have been led to believe by Neil Brand in his series on The Sound of Cinema.

A monster movie in every sense; grand in scale, grand in design and excellent performances from Fay Wray and King Kong himself!  But, well, you know, that’s just, like, er, my opinion, man.

Get Carter (1971)

Following his excellent performance in The Italian Job playing the cocky cockney Charlie Croker, Michael Caine stars as an equally cheeky chappy in Get Carter but this time he has a vicious side too.  Following the mysterious murder of his brother, gangster Jack Carter (Caine) travels from London to Newcastle to find out why, and to make the perpetrators pay.

A very enjoyable romp, Get Carter is brought alive by a dazzling performance by the indomitable Michael Caine who takes the great script by Mike Hodges, polishes it and really makes it shine.  Initially Caine’s character is similar to his Italian Job persona, but it’s not long until the body count increases and it’s clear that Jack Carter is more likely to blow the bloody doors off on purpose if it would kill someone who conspired against his brother!  Mike Hodges’ direction is inventive and dynamic creating a very stylish film; sometimes flipping the camera upside-down during a chase, and there’s a great scene where Jack is rescued from pursuit by a woman in a sports car (very 007), and the whole thing is seen from a birds-eye camera.  And that’s not to mention the wonderful 60s and 70s decor in the various apartments, giving the film a wonderful gritty working class feel.

There are many revenge movies, the more modern ones being flashy, slick affairs generally with explosive set pieces, however they rarely do anything new.  Get Carter hardly breaks the mould in terms of story, but it does have bags of style, a smart script, clever direction and of course Michael Caine. But, well, you know, that’s just, like, er, my opinion, man.

Dracula (1931)

I am Dracula. I bid you welcome.

Believe it or not, there was a time when cinema wasn’t replete with Vampire films.  Bram Stoker published Dracula in 1897, but in a time when movie studios didn't instantly jump on any novel idea, it wasn't until 1922 that the story was adapted for the silent film Nosferatu.  Then in 1931 director Tod Browning adapted the stage production featuring Belá Lugosi as Dracula and Edward Van Sloan as Van Helsing for Universal's Dracula.  It sounds like it should be a classic. Unfortunately it’s far too clunky to be anywhere near it.

The opening couple of scenes are spooky enough, and I can live with the obvious matte painting (it is 1931 after all); however, any pretence of atmosphere goes out of the window as soon as the rubber bat makes an appearance “driving” the carriage!  I kid you not.  The bat makes many appearances, but that’s not all; there’s plastic spider of unknown scale, and some armadillos.  Yup, you heard me.  Honestly, I don’t know; perhaps they’re meant to be giant rats?  Or maybe Dracula has pet armadillos in his castle.

I think Belá Lugosi is trying to be enigmatic, but most of the time he’s daft.  He manages to be creepy weird when he is bending over someone to bite them (no teeth or blood though), and he does something sinister with his hands (think Saruman’s claw hand as he tries to use the palantir), but when he speaks with his stilted Hungarian accent he doesn’t sound enigmatic at all.  He’s more Manuel from Fawlty Towers: “I speak Eeenglish, I learn it from a book” than iconic vampire!

Most of the acting is high school amateur dramatics, and some of the direction is too.  Edward Van Sloan as Van Helsing is probably the best thing, and he certainly rescues most scenes he’s in from tedium.  That’s not much of a compliment though, as everyone else is so bad; the worst thing is the Cockney Music Hall orderly at the mental asylum saying “Your maaad aint cha!”; it’s a wonder he doesn’t slap his thighs at the same time.  Probably the best part of the film were the sets, in particular inside castle Dracula and a magnificent staircase in Carfax Abbey.

I started watching with high hopes, sure I was about to see a masterful understated and sinister performance from Belá Lugosi.  I was sorely disappointed, and I look forward to seeing the 1958 Christopher Lee version.  But, well, you know, that’s just, like, er, my opinion, man.

The Big Sleep (1946)

Humphrey Bogart is Philip Marlowe, a private detective hired by General Sternwood (a retired and ailing old man) to investigate blackmail, but the case quickly becomes far more involved.  Soon enough, people start being killed and Marlowe starts to think that the General's daughters Vivian and Carmen may be involved.  The plot is certainly very complicated and it really has to be seen twice (I watched it once with subtitles because everyone speaks so fast), and you really can't stop concentrating for a moment.  It sounds like hard work, but it's great because if it slowed down, any over explanation would just seem clunky and would really kill the film.

At the heart of the film is a brilliant performance from Bogart, it's like he never stops talking, but as everything he says is pure gold, you really don't want him to stop.  His Marlowe is quick, witty, sharp and passionate.  He absolutely dominates every scene he's in, except those he shares with Lauren Bacall who plays Vivian, the General's elder daughter.  The on-screen chemistry between these two is just wonderful; their verbal sparring always left me with a smile on my face, it is a joy to watch.  Surrounding them is a solid support cast, perhaps most notably John Ridgely as Eddie Mars, but there is no doubt that this is Bogey's film.

I think this can be classed as a film noir, but most of the sets are brightly lit, and I think it only rains a couple of times, two things that for me go hand in hand with the genre (though I haven't seen many).  It's hard to appreciate the probable other nice touches in the film because you get so engrossed in the story, impressed at the razor sharp script, and above all, captivated by Bogart's performance, even after a second viewing.

Forrest Gump (1994)

I remember really not liking this film in the past, but I have to say that this time it bullied me
into thinking it was alright. There were some nice moments of editing and
cinematography, and Tom Hanks is OK; but the whole thing is just too contrived to make it
that enjoyable. The way he comes up with the "Shit happens" phrase, or teaching Elvis
how to dance, basically getting Forrest involved in everything ingrained into the American
psyche; it just all constantly jars.

It's really a story about living the American dream if you just bimble along in life; ok so your
wife is a junkie tramp who dies of AIDS, but it seems that's what you get for standing up for
what you believe in and creating your own path. I think as I'm writing this I'm liking the film
less and less; I'd like to see it again to appreciate the film making more without
concentrating on the stupid story. I did like the way that essentially Forrest is sat on a
bench at a bus stop telling his inane story to whoever will listen, and we keep cutting back
to that, but otherwise there's not much to write home about. Robert Zemeckis is just
directing by numbers with a couple of set pieces thrown in. In fact, the best thing about
Forrest Gump is this:

District 9 (2009)

I'd heard good things about District 9, but I still expected something akin to Battle for LA.  What I didn't expect was a documentary style sci-fi film that was more of a commentary on the politics of Johannesburg townships and refugee camps than a film about shooting aliens.  Though what was even more surprising was the fact that the first name that appears on the screen was Peter Jackson!  How did I no know that?!

The film opens by saying that everyone expected aliens to land in the US, so for them to appear in South Africa took the world by surprise.  Though when no aliens appear from the mother ship, humans make their way in and discover aliens in an extreme state of malnutrition and disease.  A health station is set up in Johannesburg to help the aliens recover, but over time this area becomes a slum, known as District 9, and has all the usual problems associated with slums.  The main human character Wikus (Sharlto Copley) works for MNU (Multi National United - a kind of OCP company) and his role is to convince the Prawns (as the aliens are derogatorily known) to move to a new township.

Sharlto is really good; the wit, attitude and emotion he brings to Wikus is brilliant, as is his accent when he swears.  His character arc is very reminiscent of Seth Brundle in the fly, and I feel that there were several nods to that film.  I thought that the Prawns looked really good, nothing that fancy or grotesque, but they were very realistic and really looked like they inhabited the township they were in.  I think because I was expecting a shooty-aliens style film, I was really amazed by the completely novel take on the genre and really quite complex plot; not to mention the complex dynamic of humans living alongside the aliens including all the people who exploit the township for personal gains.

A very good film; well shot, cool special effects (WETA of course, being a PJ Wingnut production), nice documentary style and a very different take on the alien invasion genre. Well worth a look.

The Wizard of Oz (1939)

The Wizard of Oz is one of those films that everyone has seen, apart from me. When I admit this, friends ask me "What did you watch on Christmas Day?". Well, I was watching Empire Strikes Back or Raiders of the Lost Ark; sue me! Also, as I've probably said before, I am no fan of musicals (Rocky Horror Picture Show, Little Shop of Horrors and Moulin Rouge notwithstanding), so I would have given “Oz” a wide berth. So, was I wrong to avoid it for so long? Well, maybe. I think having not grown up with it, the magic that I guess a kid would get out of it wasn't there for me. I am also tempted to say that it was all a bit obvious, but that's probably only because at some level I knew what was going to happen; lion and his bravery, tin man and his heart and all that.

No doubt Judy Garland can sing, and a lot of the sets are quite impressive, but because it is a film that is so ingrained in the psyche, it's hard to be objective. Viewers probably fall into two categories: those that have grown up with the film and love it, or those like me who come to it later in life and don't really get it. Would I set out to watch it again? Probably only with kids. I can see where the magic lies, it's just not for me at this stage of my life.

Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)

I thought Bridge on the River Kwai was very entertaining; a very British British film highlighting that it is the seemingly insignificant nuances of culture and integrity that are even more important when in an impossible situation. A tremendous performance from Alec Guinness, wonderfully shot, and a far more involved plot than I assumed. I liked the way that we initially sympathise with Guinness' character, but by the climax of the film we are firmly on the side of the British soldiers who are trying to destroy the bridge. Guinness' hubris is perhaps understandable but bizarrely at odds with what the Allies as a whole are trying to achieve.

As I said, the quality of acting is top drawer and the style and scope is epic. My only minor issue was that the climax wasn't quite climactic enough! I felt that the final act could have had more impact given the investment we had in the characters, but this is really a small failing in an otherwise excellent film

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)

Now, I know there are all sorts of Westerns, but if someone starts talking about this genre, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly is what I automatically think of.  Few other westerns have the same dynamism of a Sergio Leone western. They are full of action, have amazing characters and are beautifully shot.  Having said that, I'm really looking forward to Django Unchained in 2013.

Having wowed the world with his dynamic, violent style in Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More, TGTBATU is the icing on the Sergio Leone cake.  It's a film that is in no hurry.  The first half an hour are spent slowly introducing the characters: Tuco (The Ugly) is evidently often a wanted man, but is perfectly capable of looking after himself.  Angel Eyes (The Bad) is a real mercenary and will stop at nothing to get his hands on as much cash as possible. Finally there's Blondie (The Good), still quite the mercenary, but with more scruples than Angel Eyes.  It's typical of Leone that even the "hero" (The Good) is a morally ambiguous character.

After these introductions we get into the story proper, these nefarious characters are trying to track down a cash box buried in a graveyard.  Of course it's not as simple as that, they get there via various altercations and encounters with the Unionist and Confederate armies, as well as each other.  However, when the graveyard is reached, the climax to the movie is 25 of the best minutes ever committed to film.  Leone's style is most evident here as the camera slowly gets closer to the protagonists using static shots of faces, eyes, hands and guns.  I have talked more about this in my Sunday Scene; quite simply, it's superb.

Behind all this wonderful direction and editing is an amazing score from Ennio Morricone.  Perhaps it is the theme music from the film that is most famous (perhaps even the most famous music from a Western), but The Ecstasy of Gold and "The Trio" showdown music are truly magnificent.





The three stars are quite brilliant.  Lee Van Cleef is the perfect embodiment of The Bad; the piercing blue eyes, the mousey smile, all played with such gleeful recklessness.  I know that Clint's character is meant to be the main hero, and Blondie is the epitome of cool, but it is Eli Wallach's portrayal of Tuco that is the highlight of the film.  He has the best lines: "If you're gonna shoot, shoot! Don't talk!", and the scene in which he "buys" a gun in a shop is pure genius.  Tuco is very much an adolescent character trying to survive in a man's world, and as such always seems to make it through by the seat of his pants.  Eli Wallach always manages to make his beady eyes full of wonder at the possibilities available to him, but at the same time terrified by what might happen to him.  This is no better demonstrated than in the truel at the end of the film: his beady eyes searching, his mouth twitching as he tries to second guess his opponents, and his gun on a piece of string! He could win so much, but he could lose everything.  Superb.

I’ve only really scratched the surface of what makes this a fabulous film, and I know I haven't done credit to how excellent TGTBATU really is.  Cast, action, music, style, composition of shots, script (have I forgotten anything?) all completely excellent, and one of my all time favourite films.

Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)

“People scare easier then they’re dyin”

The subtitle for Once Upon a Time in the West could easily be How the Wild West Ended. Everything about the film suggests the end of an era, or at least the end of something. Harmonica’s tune is like a death rattle, we feel ultimately that it will build to a dramatic crescendo, but it takes time to get there; it is reminiscent of a tortuous death. Indeed Jason Robards’ character, Cheyenne, goes even further and suffers a long drawn out death; having been shot off-screen it takes him a full 20 min at the end of the film to die. If the pace of the film and the music wasn’t enough to suggest last gasps, the central theme is stated by Harmonica when he explains that Man is an ancient race, and that businessmen will come along and kill it off. It is the rise of the businessmen and the expansion of the railroad that is ending the time of the outlaw.

There is plenty of fabulous scenery and many sweeping crane shots, revealing huge sets and hordes of extras in the rail gangs. Of course being a Sergio Leone film there are lots of close ups of the characters, concentrating in particular on their eyes. I’ve never seen either Charles Bronson or Henry Fonda in anything else, but here they both look like real mean bastards! Leone also has an eye for the stylish and dramatic, and this is no more evident than the very start of the film. There is 10 minutes of three guys waiting at a railroad station, barely any dialogue, a squeaking windmill and a buzzing fly; but it is phenomenal. A very brave way to start a film, it sets the pace for the rest of the story perfectly. Of course on top of Leone’s inimitable style, Ennio Morricone’s score is as fabulous as ever.



All of the main characters are flawed. Like I say, Harmonica (Bronson) and Frank (Fonda) are both ruthless men; Harmonica is out for revenge, and Frank is just evil. Cheyenne (Robards) is a likeable rogue, but by no means a good guy; even Jill McBain (the gorgeous Claudia Cardinale), the traditionally “good” character, is an ex-whore. Whereas in other Westerns there is a character that the viewer routes for (usually Clint Eastwood in Leone films), in OUATITW there is no-one really. We hope that Harmonica gets his man, though we don’t know what injustice he suffered in the past; but that’s different to empathising with a character. In terms of performances I think Cardinale and Fonda are the two that stand out. Cardinale manages to switch emotions from excited and hopeful, to horrified and scared very well, yet she always seems to be in control. Fonda is perfect as Frank; playing against his usual type, he seems to really enjoy playing a real villain.

         

A superb, beautiful film, with some typical, but none-the-less excellent, stylish direction from Sergio Leone, and very atmospheric music from Morricone. I hesitate to mention the tempo of the film, which can sometimes feel like it’s dragging, because the slow pace is an intended feature of the film. This doesn’t detract from the epic scale of the film, and it hasn’t stopped me from seeing it many times.

Die Hard (1988)

Partly because I'd not seen it in years, and partly because of Bro code #84: "A Bro shall stop whatever he's doing and watch Die Hard if it's on TV. Corollary – Also the Shawshank Redemption, Top Gun, first half of Full Metal Jacket"; I watched Die Hard on E4 the other night. I'm sure everyone is familiar with Bruce Willis as the unstoppable John McClane, and a typically evil and sneering performance from the wonderful Alan Rickman as Hans Gruber, but it's worth mentioning anyway because they are both great. I generally feel that Bruce Willis is better in films where he isn't the main character (Twelve Monkeys, Pulp Fiction or Sin City) because his other films often end up being "Bruce Willis" films and he bores me; but Die Hard was before he became typecast as an action hero and so his performance is still fresh. Alan Rickman is as brilliant as ever, possibly the highlight being the look on his face as he falls to his death!

The support cast are fairly incidental: a lot of 80s metal band members as the henchmen (Karl in particular looks just like Nicko McBrain from Iron Maiden) as well as cult stuntman Al Leong; and some of the usual police suspects for 80s action films, Robert Davi & Paul Gleason. Reginald VelJohnson is possibly the only other semi-principle character as Sergeant Powell, a fairly clichéd character, but fun none-the-less. He gets a nice moment at the end when he shoots Karl; again cheesy moment with cheesy music, but I did like the way that the camera focus shifted along the barrel of the gun to Powell's face.

John McTiernan proves that the quality of action in Predator was no fluke by creating another film with some excellent bone-crunching and foot-bleeding thrills. Sure, there are some silly moments and I found myself shouting at the TV, but they're all forgiveable for a less-than-serious action flick. A strong candidate for many people's favourite Christmas movie, Die Hard combines top-notch action, a solid simple story, and career defining performances from Bruce Willis and Alan Rickman. What's not to like? Yippee-ki-yay, mother-funster!

Metropolis (1927)

Continuing the classic Sci-Fi season at our local excellent cinema The Belmont, there was a showing of the full (so far) version of Fritz Lang’s critically acclaimed Metropolis. When a full print of the film was found in Argentina in 2008, a rescue operation was duly mounted to restore the whole film. The final version, though for the most part perfectly clear, does contain some scenes that were very grainy and one short scene which has been lost forever and so is explained by intertitles. Other than reminding the viewer that the film itself has a turbulent history, it does not detract from the spectacle at all.

What a spectacle! I was not expecting to see a film with such a grand scale, so many extras, such design and such great music. Clearly a lot of the larger backgrounds were matte paintings, but, as with A Matter of Life and Death 20 years later, they are shot in such a clever way that it works seamlessly and gives a real sense of scale to the city. There were also so many little touches that made the film so unique, memorable and elevate the film to a higher level. From the Art Deco design of the film (well it was made in the 20s), and the dance-like quality of the workers’ movements, to the idea of decimalising time! (Actually I’ve always thought that we should decimalise weeks. Longer weekends!). Actually, several of the actors’ movements are also very stylish, not just the proletariat moving synchronously as one entity.

The story revolves around Joh Fredersen (Alfred Abel), who runs the futuristic city of the film; and his son Freder (Gustav Fröhlich), who, when he learns of the miserable life of the workers, wants to experience that life first hand and help them. While “down below” with the workers, Freder meets and falls in love with Maria (Brigitte Helm), a revered speaker who is campaigning for a peaceful end to the workers’ misery. However, Joh Fredersen hears of this and plots to incite a riot among the workers. His friend Rotwang the inventor (Rudolf Klein-Rogge), has recently created a robot; and by transposing the likeness of Maria onto it, the “Maschinenmensch” takes Maria’s place and incites the workers to revolt. However, Joh Fredersen does not know that his son is involved.

The acting is all very good. Gustav Fröhlich is perhaps a bit over-the-top as Freder (and seems to be wearing as much make-up as Maria!), but the performances of Alfred Abel and Brigitte Helm in particular are very believable; and thinking about it now, I forget that this is a silent film. Their expressions communicate so much without over-acting, as Gustav often does. Rudolf Klein-Rogge is also very good as the crazy inventor, certainly a predecessor of Doc Emmett Brown!

Speaking of which, there were a few other moments that I thought may be inspiration for later films. The proletariat moving as one, almost dancing, reminded me of the beginning of Shaun of the Dead when people are shown going about their normal lives as zombies, moving automatically. I have mentioned how the music was great, but I felt that Joh Fredersen’s theme was very evocative of the Imperial March in Star Wars: a rousing and imposing score for the main “bad guy”. Huh, and Joh Fredersen is the father of the “hero” too! I don’t think that this score was particularly influential to John Williams as he wrote the score to Star Wars, it just reminded me of it. Of course the robot in Metropolis was the inspiration for C3PO.

I’m sure that many other more worthwhile reviewers have said all this and far more about such a classic film; I haven’t even touched on the significance of the Tower of Babel, or the main theme that “There can be no understanding between the hand and the brain unless the heart acts as mediator”. For me though I was totally engrossed; good acting, marvellous sets, brilliant music and some cool special effects. I can see why the word masterpiece is bandied around so much when talking about Metropolis.

A Matter of Life and Death (1946)

A Matter of Life and Death (or Stairway to Heaven in the USA) tells the story of Peter Carter, and RAF pilot in the second world war whose plane is shot down. Knowing that he’ll die anyway because the parachutes are gone, Peter has a last conversation with June, the radio operator who answers his mayday, then leaps from the plane. Something goes wrong, and he doesn’t die! Peter seizes this second chance, finds June, and they fall in love. Mistakes do occasionally happen in heaven though, and now Peter must appeal the mistake of his survival so that he may live a full loving life with June.

David Niven’s character Peter is very brave and calm. Initially he is perfectly at ease at the prospect of jumping out of a crashing plane to hasten his death; then after an initial confusion is very accepting that he must appeal to a higher authority the mistake that he’s still alive! Somehow Niven manages to convey this perfectly, and given how bizarre the concept is, I didn’t doubt his character or situation at all. Kim Hunter is good as June, the voice on the radio that Peter speaks to as his plane is crashing, and then the girl that he falls in love with after he doesn’t die. Actually the most interesting thing about Kim Hunter was seeing her face; I’ve only seen her performances behind a chimp mask in the Planet of the Apes series! It is also worth mentioning a good performance by Roger Livesey as Dr Reeves, a very “proper” doctor who completely believes Peter’s story, and ultimately acts for the defence in the appeal for Peter’s life.

All of the scene transitions are done really well. Clearly there are several matte paintings of some of the larger sets to give a sense of scale to heaven, but the imposition of live action into them as the camera was on the move was really good. Particularly striking is the black & white of heaven contrasting with the colour of the real world. I’m not sure if that is to represent everyone being pegged as either good or evil in the afterlife, but again it leads to some effective scene transitions as colour bleeds back into a shot. There is also a very ambitious behind-the-eyes shot as Peter falls asleep; the red of the eyelids bleeds out as the camera pans down to huge columns and then we notice that there are hundreds of tiny people milling about in front of the huge heavenly columns. Pretty cool, and still impresses 66 years later.

Ultimately the success of the film depends upon believable characters, so that the audience can get on board with the concept of appealing against death, and the ability to convey the afterlife with a suitable sense of scale without reverting to cliches. I think A Matter of Life and Death succeeds on both accounts. The main trio of characters are portrayed by really good actors who are all committed to the plot; additionally the vision & production of the film give a suitably mighty backdrop to the events.

                                              And she's buying the Stairway to Heaven