Reviews

OK, guns are too readily available in the United States. OK, guns don't kill people...people kill people. I also understand that so-called "Law-abiding citizens" commit a large percentage of the murders in the United States. There is no doubt that the murder rate would decrease if weapons ownership were restricted to cops and crooks. So what? The makers of this tedious movie were more interested in scoring debating points and "making people think" about firearms issues than they were in making an entertaining film. "Joe" makes his point by killing a few people with his sniper rifle...but, hey, it's OK, because they're BAD people. Gimme a break! Perhaps the film's makers end up making their point by virtue of the fact that some wacko like "Joe" has access to a sniper rifle. The novelty wore off quite quickly. This is a b-o-r-i-n-g film.

The titles call this film "Old Heidelberg." Perhaps the longer title was added later to cash in on the popularity of Romberg's operetta, "The Student Prince," or to differenciate this 1927 silent film from an earlier version. Although director Ernst Lubitsch is a bit ham-handed about hammering home the fact that the obligations of royalty can lead to unhappiness (characters musing about how wonderful it must be to be a prince/king...the irony is too heavy-handed, which isn't like him), the point, at least, does get made. The movie abounds in gorgeous, evocative images that enhance the dramatic situations. There are many very telling moments that reveal the Master's touch...the prince steps out of the train, his momentary jealousy when he sees Kathi's popularity with the students, his stiff reunion with his former friends, who can no longer be his friends, and his realization of it. Ramon Novarro is an eager puppy-dog of a prince, charmingly, almost unbelievably, naive and enthusiastic, which makes his dilemma all the more touching as he begins to realize that there are some things a king can't have; if Norma Shearer, by comparison, seems more calculating and "actressy," she's still quite effective (when she and Karl Friedrich embrace before he heads back home because of his uncle's illness, her eyes tell you that she suspects she may never see him again), and the lesser roles are cast to near-perfection. After performing as a successful screen villain, Jean Hersholt was so good as the Prince's loyal tutor and companion that he established a nearly-unshakable image of weary kindliness. Production values are high--Lubitsch spent a lot of money but, in this case, it wasn't wasted. As one who generally finds silent films hammily-acted and dated in sensibility, I was pleasantly surprised to find this movie so absorbing. The Carl Davis score with which it is now shown, was added much later and does its own part to enhance the movie. Highly recommended.

I just watched it last night. The mixture of Michener stories is skillfully managed in the musical book but the movie moves at a glacial pace and switches uneasily back-and-forth between a stylized, staginess and gritty realism. Giorgio Tozzi, who was Brazzi's singing voice, ended up playing the part of de Becque onstage (to very good effect...they could have used him in the movie!) after his Met career was over. Did anyone notice these three names in the final credits: Joan Fontaine (as a lark) was one of the Polynesian women; Beverly Aadland (Errol Flynn's last girlfriend when she was a teenager) played a nurse, and Doug McClure appeared briefly as a wounded pilot. Joshua Logan's use of color filters in the musical scenes was inspired by the lighting in the original Broadway musical. He was told that, if he changed his mind about it, the filtering could be undone. He did change his mind after the film was assembled but was then told that it would be too expensive to undo so he was stuck with it and the result is frequently bizarre and pretentious. Pedantic point: if France Nuyen's Liat can't speak English, how can she mime Juanita Hall's words in "Happy Talk"? I've never been completely satisfied with this 1958 movie or with the 2001 TV remake, which does have a swifter, more realistic (despite the integrated military) quality to it. I admire Glenn Close's performance in the 2001 version as Nellie even though she really was too old and seemed too sophisticated to play a self-described "hick." I could do with a lot less Luther Billis, whose stupid clowning is reduced in the 2001 version...a point in its favor. His antics never amused me and he holds up the action. In the 1958 version, Brazzi, Mitzi Gaynor, John Kerr (Unlike some commentators, I think he's absolutely right for Lt. Cable), Juanita Hall, Ray Walston, Russ Brown, and the rest of the cast are excellent. In the final analysis, I think the 2001 version does more justice to Michener and the 1958 version does a little more justice to Rodgers and Hammerstein. They are both enjoyably frustrating, if that's not an oxymoron!

Amazingly, this film sticks fairly closely to the book...to its great advantage. It didn't do all that badly at the box office either and the producers would have continued with George Lazenby if he hadn't been such a nuisance.. According to my reading, Lazenby was such an "artiste" and caused the producers and director so much aggravation that they pleaded with Connery to do the next one, which he did. Unfortunately, the series became even more infantile and gimmicky as it went on. The best ones are Dr. No and From Russia With Love, the first two, but even with Lazenby, this one isn't bad. Connery was the right man for the role because he had a cold edge to go along with the superficial charm. One could easily imagine him killing in cold blood ("That's a Smith and Wesson...you've had your six.") or wisecracking after killing an enemy agent ("You won't be needing this...old man!"). Lazenby really doesn't project much of anything...he has no personality. Roger Moore was too lazy and good-natured for one to imagine him as a cold-blooded killer (which Bond was). Timothy Dalton was too intense. Pierce Brosnan (who couldn't take the role when it was originally offered to him, hence, the choice of Dalton) isn't bad at all but he's no Connery and the Bond movies are now aimed at IQs under 100 (maybe they always were but they used to do it with more class).

If brainless action is what you go for, "Kiss of the Dragon" provides plenty of it. This is a typical effort in which the Kung-Fu hero, in this case Jet Li (instead of Jackie Chan, Don the Dragon Wilson, Billy Blanks, or Steven Seagal) whips about 200 guys during the course of the film, in one case, about 20 French Kung-Fuers at once. The plot, such as it is, involves the assassination of some Chinese drug-Lord by the Paris Chief of Police, either to silence him or to take over his half of the drug business they share, or both...it's never made clear. Jet Li, a super-cop on loan from Peking, is set up to take the fall for the murder. The first 20 minutes, involving the assassination, are the best part of the film, which quickly degenerates into a garden-variety Kung-Fu film. The action scenes, though cleverly staged and varied, eventually becoming numbingly predictable...you've seen it all in dozens of other Kung-Fu movies. If you don't get bored easily or don't care about the senseless, stupid plot, you might enjoy it. My mind began to wander after about 45 minutes....

A veteran spy (James Mason), puzzled by the apparent suicide of a colleague, joins forces with a retired police inspector (Harry Andrews) to investigate it. That's the interesting half of the film. Unfortunately, too much of the movie is devoted to Mason's dysfunctional marriage to a nymphomaniacal twit (Harriet Andersson). Complicating matters is her affair with one of Mason's ex-agents, now a Swiss businessman (Maximilian Schell). Simone Signoret, speaking occasionally unintelligible English, plays the dead agent's wife, who soon becomes an object of Mason's suspicions. Many scenes go on too long and accomplish little for it; this movie needed a good editor. Mason's resonant voice and dignified presence and the Harry Andrews charm are its biggest assets.

Kismet isn't a complete waste of time but director Minelli was itching to do Lust for Life and had little enthusiasm for this assignment, which engaged his abilities, but not his sympathies. Unfortunately, it shows. Like Brigadoon and a few other musicals, this was one case where the Freed factory failed despite some gorgeous singing by the principals (Vic Damone is no actor but he ravishes "Stranger in Paradise"). Some numbers are shorn from the score, which doesn't hurt much but some are added, which does. There's a stale, formulaic quality to this movie and Kismet is a hothouse flower that doesn't thrive under M-G-M's "crunch-it-out" treatment. More imagination and taste were needed. There are several good recordings of the score and I'd suggest that, if you like the music (what's not to like?), you experience Kismet aurally.

A rich, bossy executive's son is kidnapped by her ex-husband, an arab who has been warned to return to his people or face the consequences, which could include her death. When he and the boy arrive at the settlement of his father, the Emir (Omar Sharif), he is informed that, because he has been a bad boy who transgressed against his society's precepts, he will be bypassed and his son, now thirteen, will eventually rule the Emir's people. Meanwhile, the frantic mother (Carol Alt, looking quite elegant) has been put in touch with a specialist in "dirty" operations (Rutger Hauer), who agrees, for a price, to rescue the boy from the Emir's clutches. At this point, the movie begins to slow down as Hauer and his associates penetrate the Emir's lair. There's a lack of imagination and flair to the filming. They just crunch it out. One gets tired of seeing people diving off camels or rolling down sand dunes after they get shot. The film score sounds as if it were written for some other, equally pedestrian movie. And just when you think everything is about to be tied up in a neat package, there's a twenty-minute coda of more gunplay. When you run out of dialogue or plot twists, get out those AK-47s. Does the father pay for his "crime"? Does the kid get saved? Does the Emir say "It is written....?" Does Hauer end up with Alt? Have you ever seen a movie?

I am gratified that so many others have commented on Robert Newton's completely over-the-top performance in the title role. Unfortunately, it completely transcends the otherwise conventional Hollywood pirate movie that surrounds it. When he's on the screen, nothing else exists. Yes, it's ham-acting at its hammiest but it's virtuoso ham acting that hardly anyone could hope to match. He rolls his eyes, growls, orates...he simply takes over the movie and almost gives ham-acting a good name. The only performances of this kind that I can think of which come close to matching him are Orson Welles (in many things but especially in "Black Magic") and Ralph Richardson in "Things to Come."

It's the year 3,000 and, for a millenium, earth has been ruled by a race called the Psychlos who, by their own testimony, wiped out all resistance "in nine minutes." They are ten feet tall, scientifically advanced, and given to ham-acting. In what was once the United States, what's left of humanity struggles along in primitive, remote, hidden communities in the Rockies. The Psychlos are intent on stripping the planet of its minerals. The plot concerns the eventual resistance of subjugated humanity. I won't give anything else away. Amazingly, there's little blood or real violence. Those who judge movies by their body count will be disappointed until the end. If there was any propaganda from the so-called Church of $cientology, it sailed right past me. The movie also goes on a bit too long but, though no masterpiece, it is undeserving of the brutal reviews it has received. It's just a typically silly Hollywood sci-fi film, more intelligent and interesting than witless junk like, say, Starship Troopers, but Star Wars, it's not.

This movie gets considerable mileage out of the much-used plotline: smart country bumpkin outwits smug city slicker. James Stewart is a semi-retired country lawyer who agrees to defend an army lieutenant who has murdered a local bar owner who allegedly raped his wife, a sexy, flirtatious party-girl. The local DA is aided by a smooth attorney from a nearby city. It is the chemistry between this tough, intelligent outsider (George C. Scott) and the shrewd, cynical local defense attorney (Stewart) that gives the courtroom scenes much of their tension. Unfortunately, some of that tension is neutralized by the perverse decision to cast a real lawyer, Joseph Welch, as the judge. His wooden, by-the-numbers non-performance is no asset and suggests that Otto Preminger was more interested in "making a statement" than making art. Otherwise, a strong cast does its part to put the twisty plot across. The Duke Ellington score is sometimes effective, sometimes distracting. Good movie scores should be heard but not perceived; Ellington's sometimes invites too much attention to itself

In the year 2035, surviving members of the human race have been driven underground by the spread of a deadly virus that was released by a madman back in 1996. These people have managed to create a livable environment under the surface and are so advanced in intelligence that they have even mastered the time continuum. now it's time to send someone back to 1996 to try to undo the harm that was done then so they can reclaim the planet from the animals and insects, who apparently were unaffected by the disease. Who do these brilliant folks pick for this all-important mission? This being a Hollywood movie, the choice falls upon an inarticulate sociopath who can barely string two sentences together. Great choice, guys...and the movie goes downhill from then on as Bruce Willis rambles on to anyone who'll listen about his mission, as if he expects to be believed and can't understand why these idiots don't believe that he's a time-traveler on a mission to save them. He also acts like he's heavily into barbiturates. In a supporting role as the hyped-up wacko who ends up helping to destroy the human race, Brad Pitt won a Golden Globe Award which, in this case, tells more about the Golden Globe Awards than it does about Brad Pitt, whose performance resembles a high school kid's idea of an insane person. He's the one who needed barbiturates. How did I ever last until the (predictable) end?

Any movie that has J. Carroll Naish as a cowboy can't be all bad (he's good) and pros like Kenneth Tobey and Edgar Buchanon have a certain "authenticity" that benefits a western. Forrest Tucker could be a good guy or a bad guy as the occasion demanded. Here, he's in his nasty, bad guy mode, pumping lead at people and even burning an informer alive. Tucker heads a gang of notorious robbers, including three of his brothers, that owns the corrupt lawmen of one Indiana county. In order to undo them, Randolph Scott, a resourceful spy, must be infiltrated into the gang. To complicate matters, Tucker and Naish's sister, who disapproves of their illegal ways, falls in love with Scott but is disillusioned when he appears to be an outlaw like them. Almost everything (there is a slight surprise at the end) works out as one would expect. Scott's presence carried many a mediocre western and, with interesting actors supporting him, it happens here but don't expect anything more than variations on a familiar theme.

I'm gratified to see that so many commentators saw this convoluted, brainless film for what it is. One gets so tired of invincible, brilliant criminals who do stupid things so that they can be caught. Naturally most of the law enforcement types are played as hopeless, inept dopes who have to hire a jailed IRA assassin (Richard Gere, whose subdued, understated performance stands out in these surroundings) to help them track the down the Jackal, an anonymous international assassin (Bruce Willis--is he a bad actor or a good actor who attracts stupid roles?) who apparently intends to kill the FBI director. The final scene is implausible even by Hollywood standards (How did she know where he was?) The weakness of assassination movies based on real life (say, the original Jackal and Nine Hours to Rama) is that one already knows what is going to happen at the end but even then, those movies manage to maintain a certain tension. In the Jackal remake, we aren't quite sure of what will transpire (except that the Jackal will probably fail) but most of us won't care because the movie is so sluggish, convoluted, and stupid at the top of its voice.

The opening of Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman is one of the scariest scenes I've ever seen...wonderfully spooky and atmospheric. After that, the movie settles down into a respectable "B" film which remains (at least for me) enjoyable for what it is. Lugosi was supposed to be playing Igor within the monster's body which would have made him a shrewd, dangerous creature but Universal edited him down to a stiff, clumsy caricature of Boris Karloff, for which he shouldn't be blamed. This could have been the best of Universal's monster films if some imagination and intelligence had been used. Chaney does his usual earnest, haunted Talbott performance, and looks terrific in his wolfman makeup; Ilona Massey provides some glamor as Frankenstein's granddaughter, and the villagers ("There's something suspicious going on up there") become the expected vengeful mob. Even then, I rate it above everything else in the series except the original Frankenstein, the Bride of Frankenstein, and, sadly, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, which has the kind of wit and imagination that eluded the people who made Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman.

Some of what ails "Rope" is inherited from the original play in which two deluded preppies murder a friend to demonstrate their "superiority." To make the deed even more daring and exciting, they dump the body into an old trunk and leave it there during a party to which the victim's parents amd fiancee have been invited. Typically, one of these supermen (poor Nietzsche takes it on the chin again) turns out to be a frantic weakling whose nervous behavior raises the suspicions of another guest, a former master at their school. Hitchcock's odd decision to film the story in real time forces viewers to endure the vapid party chatter and a stupid subplot in which the dominant killer of the pair amuses himself by trying to play Cupid. Fortunately, the party falls flat and breaks up early. Good thing. The guests and the hosts are both boring. The Farley Grainger character is such a whining bundle of nerves that you may wish that he had been strangled instead of the victim. As the dominant partner in crime, John Dall is such a slimy creep that you wonder how he could have any friends but he does smirk very nicely. He imagines that his former master, who casually jokes about the uses of murder might even appreciate his deed even if he might not be "superior" enough to actually do it. Is there any doubt that the master (James Stewart) will figure out what they did and be appalled by his own contribution to it? Minimal suspense and some boring stretches. Neither Hitchcock nor anyone else tried filming without obvious cutting and in real time again. No wonder. It's like watching a bad play...which is what it is.

Although directed by Sam Raimi, this film has the casual violence, carefully-composed shots, and glacial pacing of a Sergio Leone western. Gene Hackman is a smug, dapper gunman who virtually owns a small prairie town (one might call it "the Lee Van Cleef role"). Into town rides a lanky stranger bent on vengeance, but wait a minute...that don't look like Clint! My gawd...it's a woomin; in fact, it's Sharon Stone, looking terrific among the generally scruffy cast, most of whom seem to have religious objections to bathing. She can handle a gun, too; at one point she shoots a drooling rapist right in the penis at two-hundred paces. Now, that thar's what I call shootin'! In fact, most of these guys spend their remaining time on earth acting like loud-mouthed sociopaths, so we'll want them to be killed. They eventually are because Hackman decides to hold a fast-draw contest and it isn't long before he has sixteen quick-on-the trigger types signed up with the grand prize of $123,000 going to the winner (who figures to be Hackman, anyway...he's just doing it for kicks). We already know that the Final Four will turn out to be Sharon Stone, whose presence is explained as the film progresses, Hackman, Leonardo DiCaprio, playing Hackman's son ("The Kid"), a baby-faced, good-natured gunslinger who apparently isn't mean enough to earn his father's respect, and Russell Crowe ("Cort"), a reformed criminal who has renounced violence but has been forced into the contest to amuse Hackman. If you can't guess who's left standing at the end, you haven't seen enough westerns. Some might see "The Quick and the Dead" as a parody of spaghetti westerns, but how can one do a parody of a parody?

A fast-moving technocaper film that should entertain you if you don't ask too many questions and don't demand too much logic. Just sit back and don't think about it because it really has a brainless script. To discourage skepticism, one can be distracted by the clever antics of the thieves, their strong personalities (Could Sean Connery ever be boring?), the convoluted plot (Who are the good guys and the bad guys?) and the well-paced action. At least it's unbelievable in a slick, stylish way and doesn't sag until the preposterous final scene.

How could anyone watch this film and not sympathize with the Morgan family and the troubles it faces? Yes, it's only a movie and although its power is diluted a bit by the inevitable Hollywoodization of Llewelyn's novel, it boasts terrific performances by several actors who rose to the occasion, has a gorgeous score, and is full of imaginative touches and haunting images (so many of the scenes are burned into my memory) by a director at the top of his form. And there's just enough humor to bridge the tragedies that are inflicted on these people. I still delight in the scene where Rhys Williams (the only player who was actually Welsh) and Barry Fitzgerald give a boxing lesson to a sadistic schoolteacher (the only time John Ford flirts with cuteness), but the movie is full of great moments. I'm a cynical, jaded movie-viewer but, even if it sometimes verges on the operatic, I doubt that I would even want to meet someone who could dislike How Green Was My Valley.

How can one take seriously any movie in which earthlings can travel to other galaxies in no time at all and their weapon of choice is the MACHINE GUN??? Some see this as a satire on war movies. I hope so, because otherwise it's simply a brainless, violent action film (the latter happens to be my view). Terrific special effects, though and there are certainly few moments of repose.

Like Monty Python stuff, this uneven collection of comedy tidbits with several different directors and a huge cast will receive mixed reactions: some will love almost all of it; some will like some parts and loath others; and there will be those who find the whole thing to be sophomoric, humorless idiocy. For me, the best parts were the title skit, an almost too real parody of a 'fifties space movie, the concluding social disease sketch (you have to have experienced the 'thirties and 'forties to get it, though), and some of the commercials, especially the ones by Don (The Man With No Soul) Simmons. And if you want to know who Jack the Ripper REALLY was, YOU CAN"T AFFORD TO MISS THIS IMPORTANT CINEMATIC MASTERPIECE!!! Anyway, worth a look.

The Archers certainly gave the world some great films, including "The Life and Death of Col. Blimp" and "The Red Shoes," but Offenbach's high-spirited, imaginative opera (the performance is somewhat cut) sinks under the weight of their ponderous, artsy-fartsy, over-the-top production. The eccentric touches that work in the inbred, hothouse atmosphere of "The Red Shoes" are more of a distraction than an asset here. Perhaps this movie will fascinate those who know the opera, at least for one viewing, but I can't imagine them wanting to see it again.

A dated, overrated 1943 film which, in effect, celebrates the life of the great Bill Robinson. Some tacky, unimaginative production numbers, by-the-numbers acting, and too much Cab Calloway neutralize the talents of Robinson, Lena Horne, and Fats Waller (who isn't in the movie long enough). The Nicholas Brothers do a spectacular closing dance which doesn't quite save the day.

In order to really do justice to the fascinating book, Clint Eastwood's film version would have had to be twice as long and, for a movie, that's simply too long for a scenario in which so little actually "happens." I strongly recommend that anyone who hasn't seen this film should read the book first...then you can "read between the lines" of the screen play and what you're seeing, while it may seem too streamlined, will make more sense and enrich the experience. A very good attempt, such as it is, enlivened by brilliant performances and some seductive Savannah atmosphere. Particularly notable are John Cusack as as the social arbiter, elegant snob, and fervent collector, Jim Williams and, of course, the Lady Chablis, playing him/herself. (S)he's outrageously funny...absolutely over the top. Who else could have done it? But do read the book, even if you've seen the movie. By the way, most of Savannah is nothing at all, but the beautiful sections are truly a delight to the senses. There's nothing quite like it in the USA.

It's difficult to comment on this film without giving away the ending but it seems that a down-on-his-luck cop (Eastwood) is ordered to bring a jailed prostitute (Sondra Locke) to Phoenix because she is needed as a witness at a trial. Neither the Mob nor certain police elements are enthusiastic about this and they try to stop them from getting to Phoenix, expending enough ammo to sustain a small war in the process. Of course, you know his would-be assassins turn out to be careless klutzes, brainless zombies and awful shots (Eastwood only gets hit once before being shot at close-range by the principal villain). Perhaps the ultimate piece of stupidity is Eastwood s-l-o-w-l-y driving a bus through Phoenix while an army of cops turns the vehicle into swiss cheese without managing to hit the tires until it stops. This is a shamefully stupid movie and surely the least enterprising and interesting film that Eastwood was ever involved in. Recommended to pro wrestling fans.