Seen in February 2004
Submitted by slipkid71 on Tue, 02/03/2004 - 11:25
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- Five Easy Pieces (1970) : Before Jack Nicholson and his larger than life personna became a lifestyle, he was a hungry young actor ready to assume his place as one of the greatest thespians of the post-Brando era. In Five Easy Pieces, Nicholson takes the role of Bobby Dupea, an alienated former concert pianist now toiling in an oil field, and makes it his and only his, the way Brando became the quintessential Stanley Kowalski. As Bobby, filled with angst, Nicholson creates the quintessential iconoclast, giving society the finger while studying himself hard in the mirror. Five Easy Pieces is a fascinating character study, in which Bobby feels isolation from the upper-crust, snobby world he was reared in and contempt for the rigid blue collar environment he's fled to. He cannot experience any conformity in any world, and his is an existential crisis that often times evokes the powerful character studies of European filmmakers like Polanski, Truffaut and Kieszlowski. Nicholson's performance is that of quiet introspection followed by desperate explosiveness; it's like hiding in a foxhole waiting for the next bomb to fall nearby. His character isn't easy to like, but it's easy to identify with Bobby and the emptiness he experiences, of reacting against a life planned for him but not knowing what he truly wants or needs out of life. Karen Black is terrific as Rayette, Bobby's clingy, overly-dependent girlfriend who Bobby despises more than loves. When Rayette reveals she's pregnant with their child, Bobby's inability to want to accept the responsibility of childhood sets off a chain of events that is both revealing and self-destructive. The choice he makes in the end is shocking, but nonetheless not surprising. Few actors have ever succeeded in painting an accurate, devastating picture of existential psychodrama as well as Jack did in this movie.
- The Ring (2002) : Having watched The Ring, I'm unable to decide if I really like it or not. It's not a bad film by any means; it's just that it's one of those rare films that keeps you engrossed with every passing second, but it leaves you more confused than satisfied at the end. It's visually stunning, that's for sure, benefiting from Gore Verbinski's confident directing. The images come at you furiously, even though you're somehow not able to make them all fit cohesively. It also helps that Naomi Watts, as the reporter investigating the deaths of four teens, one of who was her niece, as a result of viewing this mysterious videotape (hence, "The Ring." - do I really have to explain what happens when you watch this spooky tape?), is assured and terrified in this role. Her assuredness fuels her investigative flame (after all, she's seen the tape and only have seven days to live - there I go, I explained it.), but with each day and each clue uncovered, her assuredness turns to dread and fear. I was captivated by the sense of overwhelming dread surrounding the tape and its' deadly consequences, but I couldn't get around the seemingly tacked-on ending, which raises more questions than answers them. Call me cynical, but The Ring 2 is coming out this fall, and I'm pretty sure that cliffhanger-like ending has something to do with the plotline of the sequel. Those weasel producers: gotta hand it to them for having the wherewithall to sucker the audience into latching on for more scary hijinks this fall. I'm not saying I didn't like The Ring; it's a lot better than most crap suspense thrillers lately, but I was expecting a big-time payoff that never came. Maybe I need to watch this again. Oh, who am I kidding, of course I'll watch it again.
- The Last Detail (1973) : Furthering the anti-authoritarian streak he started in Five Easy Pieces and concluding most memorably in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Jack Nicholson's performance as a Navy shore patrolman escorting a prisoner is a massive middle finger against Authority that fits in well with the offbeat spirit of the early 70's. As "Badass" Buddusky, a Navy lifer, Nicholson's character is too non-conformist to fit in with the rigid expectancies of Naval life, but it's the only life he knows. Buddusky is crude, crass and has little use for authority. But he does his job well. Assigned, along with fellow lifer "Mule" Mulhall (Otis Young) to escort a prisoner (Randy Quaid, terrific as the good-hearted doofus with a crippling penchant for the five-fingered discount) from Norfolk, VA to Portsmouth, NH, their detail seems to be routine until Buddusky's pestering of the prisoner, Meadows, reveals that the young sailor's going to serve eight years for attempting to steal $40 from a donation box. Buddusky, naturally, thinks this is bullshit; Meadows' sentence is too harsh, and he's going to spend his formative years wasting away in prison. So on this detail, a revved-up Buddusky and a reluctant Mulhall decide to show the naive Meadows a good time; they get him drunk repeatedly, engage in a brawl with Army officers in a public bathroom, and in the funniest, most cringe-inducing scene, try to get him laid with a hooker (look for Carol Kane as the hooker, departing from the bubbly type she usually plays). It's the intention of making a man out of Meadows that almost backfires on Buddusky and Meadows. The Last Detail is depicted honestly, down to the barrage of f-bombs flying from everyone's mouths. Nicholson's having a blast in this role, and it certainly goes down as one of his best. The Last Detail didn't get much screen time at the theatres back in '73, because of its' relentless cursing and frank depictions of sex.
- The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) : Orson Welles' follow-up to his undisputed masterpiece Citizen Kane is a knee-jerk reaction to the brilliance of Kane; whereas Welles painted Citizen Kane in bold, brash strokes, here Welles paints The Magnificent Ambersons in a more subdued, rawer fashion, with equal brilliance. Using the Amberson mansion as a metaphor for the Amberson family's voracious wealth, Welles' direction is dark and wide and expansive and suffocating all at the same time; the mansion itself serves as both a Xanadu of sorts, a pleasuredome, and a prison of wealth as well. Though he doesn't appear in the film, Welles' presence as an actor is felt in the narration that sets the tone throughout the film - he also cleverly uses the townspeople of 1900s Indianapolis to provide running commentary regarding the Ambersons, a wealthy family holed up in their magnificent mansion, shying away from the rest of society. Though the townspeople generally like the Ambersons (more like envy), they share a deep dislike for the youngest Amberson, George Amberson Minafer (Tim Holt, wooden but believable as a selfish jerk), a selfish, arrogant insufferable that's impossible to like. It is through George's eyes that we see the collapse of the Amberson fortune, and the more disturbing reluctance of George to accept that "progress" is inevitable. However, because Tim Holt's portrayal of George is perhaps too dead-on, his character is difficult to like, no less accept, and you wonder whether or not his failure is something to cheer about. It's a pity RKO Pictures butchered Welles' original film, having cut it down to a mere hour and a half, and we may never see the realization of Welles' original intent. Few directors, however, have ever conceived a more riveting one-two punch as Welles did with Citizen Kane and The Magnificent Ambersons.
- Blazing Saddles (1974) : Fart jokes, indiscrimate racial slurs, a Marlene Dietrich impersonation via way of Elmer Fudd, and a way-too-cool anachronistic black sheriff - makes for a good comedy, doesn't it? This movie is so damned vulgar, so damned crude and so damned funny, it just takes your breath away. So rather than go into more details into a film you've probably already seen, I'm going to give you ten of my favorite lines in the film, some of which will give our beloved webmaster a heart attack (I promise, I'll edit the slurs and curse words):
- "Mr. LaMarr, you've got a tongue purtier than a twenty dollar whore!"
- "I didn't get a harrumph out of that guy!/Give the governor a harrumph!/Harrumph!/That's more like it, you watch your ass!"
- "The sheriff is a n***er!/What did he say/He said the sheriff is near!/No, dangnam it, I said the sheriff's a n***er!"
- "Can we have some more beans, Mr. Taggart?/I'd say you've had enough!"
- "Mongo only pawn in game of life."
- "You will be risking a certain death, while I of course will be risking an almost certain Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor!"
- "Baby, baby, I am not from Havana!"
- "Are we awake?/That all depends. Are we black?/Yes/Then we're awake, but we're very confused."
- "We'll let the n***ers and the ch***s in, but we don't want the Irish!/Nope, everybody, or the deal's off!/Oh, prairie s**t, the Irish are welcome too!"
- "Can't you see that this is the last act of a desperate man?/We don't care if this is the first act of 'Henry V'"
- Of course, there's millions more...
- Sunset Boulevard (1950) : Perhaps the most scathing satire of the monstrous, destructive beast that is the film industry, Sunset Boulevard famously attacks Hollywood's fickle nature towards discarding fading film stars and promising the moon, the stars and everything in between towards any fool with an inkling of talent. Begining with a great plot device, in which dead men prove they can tell tales, the story of a mediocre, fringe-living screenwriter named Joe Gillis (a marvelous, sneering William Holden) living off a legendary, fading screen star, Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson, not departing far from her early days as a silent screen star, lending even more creedence to her stunning performance), unable to hide his contempt for the living arrangements (inside a sprawling but spooky mansion, which serves to drive a point about the prison Hollywood builds around film stars) but also unable to loosen himself from the film industry machine he desperately longs to be a part of. Norma hatches a plot to return to the silver screen, having sketched out a screenplay which Joe knows is worthless, but since he's broke and she's willing to pamper him financially, he sponges off of her nonetheless. Watching it all is Max (legendary director Erich Von Stroheim), once a silent film director who now bitterly toils as Desmond's faithful servant - his relationship with Desmond isn't made quite clear enough until near the very end. Directed by Billy Wilder, one of the cinema's undisputed masters, Sunset Boulevard also plays like a mystery film, shot in the very same film noir style of a detective procedural, and its' plot unfolds more mysteries and twists with each passing frame. Holden's Joe Gillis represents the young, hungry, and contemptuous, casting off everything that preceeds them; his relationship with Norma Desmond, who longs to return to the screen and desperately clings to Joe to help make it happen, is precisely the schizophrenic relationship that causes his downfall - he realizes bitterly that he needs Norma as much as she needs him. The purest joy of Sunset Boulevard is Gloria Swanson. Her Norma Desmond is a tragic, pitiful figure, at once still beautiful and radiant, but yet horribly imperious and emotionally frail; Norma clings to her past glories with tenacious delusion ("I'm still big, it's the pictures that got small"), and has gone as far as to create a cult of personality within her own mansion, where she's placed frame photos of herself within every available space. The now-famous ending, where Norma Desmond, now within the throes of insanity, floats towards the camera and beckons an imaginary Cecil B. DeMille that she's ready for her closeup, is one of the most haunting images ever captured on film.
- Lost in La Mancha (2002) : Watching this documentary on the failed production of The Man Who Killed Don Quixote is one of the saddest commentaries on the stiffling of the artistic process, either through lack of funding or by force of nature. Lost in La Mancha is a brutally ironic documentary which hoped to capture Terry Gilliam's dream of finally filming Don Quixote, only to watch his dream die painfully amidst zero interest from Hollywood, reluctant support from European financiers, lost deadlines, ill actors and a furious thunderstorm that shut production for two days. In short, Gilliam was only able to shoot the film for six days before the plug was pulled on the entire production. With every moment passing, you can determine easily why The Man Who Killed Don Quixote was doomed to fail. For starters, the kind of film Gilliam wanted to make, elliptic and trippy as is his trademark, could only be made in Hollywood, but his efforts to pitch the film to the major studios went by the wayside (apparently, Gilliam's had somewhat of a toxic relationship with Hollywood that may never be resolved). To make the film, he's forced to accept European financing, but the producers (an army of thousands, apparently) are unwilling to cough up more than the $40 million they've allocated (he budgeted the film at $80 million). His other major fiasco was the casting of French actor Jean Roquefort, as Quixote, having to quickly learn English for the role. While excited to be taking part in Gilliam's production, Roquefort can't help but display his unease. To make matters worse, what seems a minor prostate problem escalates into a full-blown hernia for Roquefort, delaying his appearance on the set for more than a month. Add a lack of quality studios in Spain and mostly uncooperative, if not downright nasty, weather, and you have your ingredients for a disaster. The one positive is the participation of Johnny Depp in the aborted film, who accepts the role with great enthusiasm. Through it all Gilliam tenaciously holds on to his dream, and it's perhaps not too much of a wish that he someday be given the chance to complete his film - he's since bought back the rights to The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, and with the participation of the red-hot Depp, it may finally receive the Hollywood backing it deserves.
- Austin Powers in Goldmember (2002) : I had been avoiding the 3rd Austin Powers film, and now I can see why my fears were justified. Austin Powers in Goldmember is something worse than a rehash of the jokes that were funny in the first film and tiresome in the second film; it's a rehash of jokes we told each other in the schoolyard in the third grade. I can't recall a film that was so obsessive about stuffing as many fart and dick jokes as humanly possible. There's absolutely nothing to recommend about this film whatsoever; Mike Myers has turned Austin Powers into a befuddled moron who's constantly upstaged by all the supporting characters - perhaps this film should be called Goldmember, featuring Austin Powers. He's also turned Dr. Evil into a lifeless, idiotic parody of a parody - Dr. Evil was once funny but now he's a eunuch-like twit. As for the other characters Myers plays, Goldmember himself and Fat Bastard...well, who gives a crap? I always had my suspicions of Myers as a comic actor & writer, and Goldmember serves to demonstrate that Myers has very little to offer from what imagination he once had; yes, the first Austin Powers was quite funny, but it gets tiresome after a few more viewings. So, naturally, Myers tries to get more mileage out of the goofy British superspy by involving him with a pair of Japanese twins unimaginatively called Fook Mi and Fook Yu. Oh, ha ha! At the very least, Beyonce does add some desperately needed attitude as Foxxy Cleopatra, but she's relegated to nothing more than a few cheesecake poses and some rather skimpy outfits - not that I'm complaining. I also hope Michael Caine got a nice fat check for this film. Normally, if you spend an entire film cringing at the jokes and knowing which jokes are coming next, then what's the point? Utterly stupid, baby.
- In case anyone was wondering, I haven't updated this particular list due to my being sick and in bed this past week with strep throat. If there's a bright side to being sick, it's given me an opportunity to catch up on watching some movies I've been wanting to see. I'll be posting my reviews in the next day or two.
- Repulsion (1965) : Roman Polanski's first English-language film is a spooky, atmospheric psychological thriller that revels in utter ambiguity. The ethereal, breathlessly gorgeous Catherine Deneuve stars as Carol, a Belgian manicurist working and living in the swinging London of the mid-sixties. In the film's first shot, a slow pan-out, Carol is revealed as a catatonic, emotionally distant woman. Her fragile mental state is further compounded by her relationship with her sister Helen, with whom Carol lives with. Carol is both titilated and repulsed by Helen's overtly sexual relationship with her lover, Michael, a married man. Unable to cope with her ambiguity towards sex and her relationship with her sister, Carol begins to lash out in a seemingly innocent but inappropriate fashion, which only begins to hint at her mental instability. When Helen and Michael leave on holiday, much to Carol's despair (a despair at being left alone in an apartment she's grossly uncomfortable in, the apartment being a metaphor for being uncomfortable in her own skin), Carol begins to hallucinate. Ah, but here's where the genius of Repulsion and the undisputable genius of Polanski as a director lie. Is Carol truly hallucinating, or is everything she imagines happening to her really happening (Most disturbingly is the intruder she imagines breaking into the apartment and raping her; was she really raped or did she just imagine it all). Because of her heightened state of paranoia and hallucination, she commits a pair of murders made senseless by the ambiguity of her mental collapse. With no use of special effects whatsoever, Polanski brilliant uses sharp angles and blurred images to bring to life a murky, grim world of psychological terror. We're never quite sure if Carol's really witnessing the walls crack before her eyes, or if that's really a dead rabbit rotting in her living room. Even more kudos goes to the glamourous Deneuve, an actress of unparalled beauty whose aloof, withdrawn nature reveals a troubled psyche ready to explode. Deneuve never settles for hysterics of the melodramatic kind, and provides a stunning insight into the mind of a desperately troubled woman.
- Go (1999) : Part of a slew of rave-culture films released some 4 or 5 years ago, Go is the only one that works on a mainstream level. Unlike the related Groove, Go largely avoids the ecstasy-soaked rave scene and instead focuses on three stories interrelated to one another. Using the same plot structure as Pulp Fiction, Go first focuses on Ronna (Sarah Polley), a cashier about to be evicted from her apartment. Talked into working another shift by Simon (Desmond Askew, smart as hell in this role), Ronna accepts for the extra cash, and when she's approached by two gay actors, Adam (Scott Wolf) and Zack (Jay Mohr), for Ecstasy, Ronna figures she'll hit up creepy drug dealer Todd (Tim Olyphant) for some E and score some cash. The deal goes wrong; Adam and Zack are forced to work undercover by a zealous drug-busting cop (the great Bill Fitchner, who provides several of the funniest moments in this film), and Ronna, sensing a rat, flushes the drugs down the toilet. But since she hasn't paid Todd for the drugs, she's forced to try to pass off aspirin for Ecstasy (which Todd eventually figures out). In the meantime, Simon and his buddies are having a grand time in Las Vegas; they steal a Ferrari, raise hell in a strip club and manage to run afoul of the strip club owners who are out after their hides. Go works quite smartly by using Ecstasy as a major player in the story, revealing both the embracing and polarizing nature of the drug and the relationship each person in the film has with the drug. As an ensemble piece, Go smartly plays up to the talents of its' young cast, especially Sarah Polley, who, while well-intentioned, betrays much moral ambiguity about her drug use and her double-crossing nature. It's also a fast-paced film that's both wickedly funny and at times tension-laden, while sticking ferociously close to the emsemble spirit of the plot.
- Old School (2003): This tired Animal House retread has one thing going for it: Will Ferrell and his innate ability to strip any semblance of dignity for the sake of a laugh. The streaking scene is quite hysterical, but the one scene that made me laugh like silly is when Frank "The Tank" (Ferrell) accidentally shoots himself with a tranquilizer gun during a kiddie birthday party, and proceeds to destroy the party. Sounds stupid, and it pretty much is, but there's something funny about watching a man lose his dignity while remaining completely oblivious to it. That's a skill Ferrell's got in spades. The rest of the film is utterly moronic and pretty much not worth discussing.
- Nueve Reinas (Nine Queens) (2001) : In this Argentine crime caper, two con men, one a crafty veteran (Ricardo Darin), the other a novice (Gaston Pauls) collaborate on trying to pass off a fake set of stamps, known as the Nueve Reinas, as real, and hope to score a huge cash payoff. In between various demonstrations of their skills, you can't quite tell which con man is conning who, but you know one of them is going to suffer the con of their lives. Con artist films are nothing new, and Nueve Reinas breaks no new ground. But if you can imagine David Mamet writing a screenplay in the gritty language and braggadoccio of a Bonairense, then Nueve Reinas does come as a revelation. Darin's performance as the world-weary old pro with one last big con up his sleeve is full of blustery over-confidence, while Pauls' young stud goes along with the plan, flip-flopping between awe and contempt for his veteran partner. The beauty of Nueve Reinas is, as a successful con man flick, it keeps you guessing with every frame, even if it does seem a bit implausible at times - the revelation of the real Nueve Reinas halfway through the film doesn't really work as part of the con. As an homage to the con artist film noir, Nueve Reinas aspires to smaller scales, trying to copy such gritty films as The Grifters or Mamet's own House of Cards, but it comes across as a clever cousin to The Sting, and that's quite a complement.
- Requiem for a Dream (2000) : Hubert Selby's novels are by its nature extremely hard-assed and unsentimental, unflinching in its portrayal of desperate people living on the fringes of society. Daniel Aronofsky's adaptation of Selby's novel Requiem for a Dream captures that very same aesthetic, even if Aronofsky's direction can seem ridiculously distracting at times. At the core of the film is the story of four people, all junkies, who cling desperately to individual dreams of breaking out of their boring, humdrum lives. For Harry (Jared Leto, excellent in this role), all he wants is to make a big smack score with his best friend Tyrone (a surprisingly effective and excellent Marlon Wayons, who thankfully avoids the obnoxious scene-chewing he's notorious for) and open up a boutique with his girlfriend Marion (the always outstanding Jennifer Connelly, who's demonstrated a knack for understanding flawed, unsympathetic women). Harry's mother Sara (Ellen Burstyn, devastating in this role) is a TV addict who one day receives the surprise of her life; she's picked to appear on her favorite game show. Wanting to make a more presentable appearance in a dress she doesn't fit in, Sara seeks medical help from a sleazy doctor who over-prescribes her a mountain of uppers. At first responsive to her doctor's "help", Sara quickly spirals into a full-blown speed addiction that's terrifyingly heightened by paranoia. Meanwhile, as their heroin addictions grow deeper and deeper, Harry and Tyrone's drug dealing never gets off the ground as they'd hoped, and Harry's relationship with the strung-out Marion becomes more distant. Requiem smartly avoids making you feel sympathetic for each of the characters in the film; after all, they're just junkies. But it does make you feel something, and that something is uncomfortable; in the climax of the film, as all four character's "dreams" go distressingly by the wayside in a hellish cavalcade, you could only wish for their suffering to end quickly. Aronofski's follow-up to his wildly imaginative, acclaimed techo-thriller Pi is a masterful second film. My only complaint is Aronofski's insistence on trick photography sometimes gets in the way of the story.
- Jesus' Son (1999) : Billy Crudup shines as FH, a well-intentioned slacker who just can't help keeping from screwing up all the time. His propensity for screwups earns him the nickname "Fuckhead". FH tells his story of heroin addiction, lost love and eventual salvation in a laconic, easy manner that makes him sympathetic. Begining as a bumbling slacker, FH's heroin addiction begins with his long relationship with the volatile Michelle (a beautiful Samantha Morton). FH and Michelle drift from one moment to another, some viciously funnier, some breathlessly heartbreaking and horrifying. Throughout Jesus' Son FH encounters the death of a best friend, several ass-kicking and a car crash from which he and an infant miraculously survive. Inevitably, FH will encounter a personal tragedy that unwittingly leads him towards a minutely-realized salvation. If Jesus' Son does have a flaw, it's that its story is a bit too damned laconic for it's own good; its' leisurely pace is a hinderance more than a help. But Crudup's easygoing charm makes up for the film's sluggish pace, and he's helped tremedously by several standout supporting performances, most notably Morton, as well as from Denis Leary, Jack Black and Holly Hunter.
- Solaris (2002) : Call this film, and the more ponderous, majestic version from Andrei Tarkovski, the anti-Sci-Fi. Relying more on the human drama than the comical, cartoonish traits of Sci-Fi, Solaris reflects on the fragile nature of man and man's longing and regret and the consequences of those actions. While following the structure of Stanislaw Lem's classic novel of the same name - a widowed psychologist is asked to decode a cryptic invitation from a scientist collegue named Gilbarian to examine the unexplainable ongoings in a space station orbiting the planet Solaris - Steven Soderbergh's version is a meditation on man's fragile psyche and the need to take comfort in the explainable. Dr. Kris Kelvin (George Clooney) agrees to investigate the ongoings aboard the Prometheus, and is met by the loopy, babbling Snow (Jeremy Davies) and the overly paranoid Gordon (Viola Davis). He is also met with the suicide of Gilbarian, for reasons unknown. It's clear from the get-go that Solaris has something to do with the skittish nature of the scientists aboard the Prometheus, whom have seen or encountered long-dormant memories. Kelvin's weary psychology can't help him from what's coming to him - an encounter with his dead wife Rheya (a moody, distant Natasha McElhone). He literally jettisons Rheya off the shuttle, only for her to return. Knowing, but not wanting to accept the notion that perhaps she's just a dream or a memory come to life, Kelvin becomes obsessed with his dead wife, which doesn't sit well with the paranoid Gordon. Only Snow, who serves as the deranged court jester who's perhaps smarter than he seems, has the answers to the riddle of Solaris, but his incoherence stiffles Kelvin's investigation. Solaris quiet moodiness emphasises the lack of action in a supposed sci-fi film, all which rewards the viewer with an ambiguous ending that forces you to come to your own conclusions. Soderbergh's direction and screenwriting is brisk and intelligent, a tribute to his emerging genius. Curiously, Soderbergh cast George Clooney as Kelvin, and he is rewarded; gone is the rakish charm Clooney's come to make his own domain, and instead relies on quiet inflection and desperation, which come as a revelation. Both Tarkovski's version and Steven Soderbergh's rethinking of Solaris owe much to 2001: A Space Odyssey in the fact that they're sci-fi films in name only.
What did you find confusing about the end of The Ring? Or did you just not like its cliffhangerish nature?
I remember coming up with a cohesive explanation for the story in general, but there are no guarantees I remember it. Still, I'm game to try.
I don't know if it's confusion as much as it was irration on my part that all the clues led to more unanswered questions. Don't get me wrong, I completely understood the story, and I understood the whole story regarding Samara. I was more pissed that the film cames across in the end as a shameless effort to get the audience to watch the sequel, of which I am more than game for.
I'd like to see your explaination for The Ring and determine if we came up with the same conclusions. Can you point out where you've posted it, if indeed it's posted on Listology?
I didn't really see the end as a shameless lead-in to a sequel (which I too will see, although I'm worried it is going to be significantly worse). They couldn't have known it would be successful enough for one thing, but I'm probably being naive.
Anyway, I thought it was pretty cool that Watts had to choose between saving her son and perpetuating the evil. It's not really a conundrum I've seen pulled off so well in these types of movies, and Watts probably gets lots of credit for selling it (to me, at least). While it's common for horror movies to leave the villain alive, presumably so we all walk away with a sense that it could happen to us, I don't think it's so common for the hero to enable the villain's survival.
As for my version of the story, I doubt it's much different from yours. Unfortunately it's not on Listology; the whole thing was a series of discussions with my wife (my meager review is here). But I don't think I had any unanswered questions when I was through thinking it over. What are some of yours?
The only question that I really have is why did Aidan have the ability to know what Samara wanted to do, and why he knew setting her free was a bad thing (yes, even though she did say she wanted to kill when she was being interviewed by the shrink at the loony bin). I don't think you're being naive, but if any film nowadays makes a resonable profit, then the sequel talks begin, and I can help but thing that The Ring's end had something to do with a second part already being planned.
I don't remember that part too clearly, but I got the impression Aiden had some REDRUM-style latent psychic stuff going on. Fortunately they didn't play that angle up. Samara shows her victims mental images though, so I'm thinking he just understood her better from what she was showing him.
You got me curious though, and there's a pretty good FAQ here, even if I disagree with at least one of the answers (the nature of the "football" tape).
I got the same sort of REDRUM idea. Usually when there's a kid involved in a spooky film, he or she possesses some kind of innate ESP that allows them to communicate with very bad things going on.. That's why I kinda cringed at the little boy being in the film.
You know what, I think I'm going to have to watch The Ring again.
It's been years since I've seen Blazing Saddles, but of course I love it. Funny thing though - I have this nagging recollection that the ending is awful, and yet I can't recall how it ends. I fear I must have blocked it from my mind. So how does it end? Is it awful?
No, actually it's a pretty inventive ending, but for the sake of the relative few who haven't seen Blazing Saddles, here goes:
Sheriff Bart and the Waco Kid lead the counterattack against Hedy Lamarr's goon squad, which, since the movie's film at a Warner Bros. backlot, spills into other sets, the funniest being a gay musical filmed by Dom DeLuise. Lamarr escapes from the studios, only to be cornered by Sheriff Bart at Grumann's Chinese Theatre. Once he dispatches Lamarr, Bart and the Waco Kid watch the end of Blazing Saddles, where they both leave Rock Ridge, in a limo, no less.. So, no, it's not awful, depending on your viewpoint, of course.
Ah right, thanks for the refresher. I do remember not liking that, but I'll have to give it another shot one day. It just felt jarring and out-of-step to have the fourth wall come tumbling down like that. It wasn't as bad as the ending to The Holy Grail though.
WHAT??? You didn't like the ending to Holy Grail? Shame on you! No, seriously, I take it you didn't like it because it seemed so out of left field that it left you hanging, correct? Considering it's a Python film, the ending couldn't have been more appropriate.
Funny you mentioned Holy Grail; it's playing at the local $2 cinema/pizzeria tomorrow night, so I'll be playing a closer look to the ending.
:-) As long as we're at it, I should confess that about 90% of The Flying Circus didn't really fly for me either. The remaining 10% was pure gold though.
Ah, that does indeed explain your ambivalence towards Holy Grail's ending.
Python's an acquired taste. I know some people who can't fathom it, or don't "understand" it because of the British accents...twerps!
Sort of like the smell of crap. An acquired taste I suppose. ...... just kidding! lol
It's been a long time since I watched it. I mostly remember in high school (15 year ago!) settling down late a night and flipping through the channels. I'd stop at Monty Python and think, "oh, this'll be really funny" and then go though the whole show occassionally grinning, and almost never laughing out loud. I always felt bad about it, and I *tried* to like it. I *wanted* to like it. Kinda like the band The Talking Heads - I knew I should like them, I just couldn't get there from here.
Nice turn of the cheek, Jim. I'd never read anyone insult you before, (unless of course being called a "twerp" is not an insult to you.) Pardon my intrusion.
Pardon my intrusion, but I'm sure that slipkid71 was just kidding around.
Obviously.
Thanks! I did take slipkid71's comments as humorous though, and not insulting. Well, except to people that don't like or get Python solely because of the accents, but it's okay to insult them. :-) Of course, it probably reflects poorly on me that I dig the accent but don't grok the Python humor (usually), so I probably shouldn't be insulting anybody.
Ditto, Jim, and no, I wasn't referring to you as a twerp. I find it galling that people who can't get past accents can't find anything British funny (these are probably the same people who can't stand to watch foreign film because subtitles are "too distracting"). The twerps are the same twerps who bitched about The Office winning the Golden Globe for Best Comedy.
The Office - now there's some British humor I dig! Happily, I like lots of other Brit humor too, and like much of what the Pythoners have done post-Flying Circus. The whole Monty Python thing itself though was very hit-or-miss for me, with far more misses than hits (although I remember really liking Life of Brian and the Cheese Shop sketch.).
I didn't know there was griping about The Office winning the GG. Twerps indeed. Twits, even.
Ah, the cheese shop sketch. One of my favorites.
One of my favorites is the violent Victorian era tennis match "as directed by Sam Pekinpah"
I love it when I see a movie at roughly the same time as another Listologist. I too recently saw Lost in La Mancha and felt much the same way. I didn't know Gilliam had successfully bought back the script though - my recollection from the postscript is that he was trying to. Did you hear that somewhere else? Also, do you know if Depp is still attached?
I was thinking Quixote might stand a better chance of getting made if The Brothers Grimm does well (here's an attached post I just found that makes the connection explicit).
I saw a program hosted by Elvis Mitchell, the film critic from the New York Times, reflecting on Gilliam's career and the fiasco that was The Man Who Killed Don Quixote. In the retrospective, Gilliam announced that he did secure the rights back. My guess is this retrospective was filmed in early '02, to coincide with the release of Lost in La Mancha.
Oh man, sorry you've been out of commission! Seems like some kind of creeping crud has been waylaying several Listologists (although it's probably a safe bet we didn't catch it from each other).
You never know; these days I'm not surprised if you can catch anything, like the flu or the clap, from the Internet. However, I'm also pretty sure I didn't catch strep from this web site.
Wow, what a treat to sign on this morning and find this huge backlog of reviews! I'll have to see Repulsion, and I dug your Solaris review - a movie that didn't get enough respect when it was released, IMO. Between his acting in that movie, and his direction of Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, George Clooney is really revealing himself to be enormously talented. Talk about your complete package: looks, intelligence, charm, and a sense of humor. Lucky bastard. :-)
Oh, it's Darren (not Daniel) Aronofsky, BTW.
Oops! No disrespect to Mr. Aronofsky!
I've always dug Clooney. I think he's a lot "deeper" an actor than most people give him credit for. He took a lot of risks with Solaris and I believe they paid off for him.
Oh, and do check out Repulsion. It's a magnificent film. For some odd reason, I've got this idea that maybe someone like Darren Aronofsky ought to remake it and cast Gwyneth Paltrow in Deneuve's role. Tell me if I'm wrong.
Alrighty, I'll check back in here (eventually) after I've seen Repulsion to give you my thoughts on the Paltrow idea.