Kinematoscope

The long awaited eleventh installment in the countdown is finally here! I like to call this one La Dolce Vita: Cinematic Classic or Celluloid Equivalent of a Coma? or, Why Film Studies Was My Minor, Not My Major. Let’s hop the heck to it.

The Key Players:

Your maestro and tour guide for this nearly three hour excursion is Frederico Fellini, a giant of foreign cinema, in company with your Bergmans and Antonionis, whose films won four Oscars and a Palm D’Or. This is my first Fellini experience, and not the last on the countdown (so look for the others in the fifteen years it will take me to finish this).

Marcello Mastroianni stars as a journalist (also named Marcello… who does this Italian dude think he is, Charlie Sheen?) that we follow for seven days as he reports on news items sensational and tabloid.

Anouk Aimée is a high society heiress he encounters more than once, Anita Ekberg shows up for a little bit (and all over the movie posters) as an American actess that Marcello follows around for a day. The only other major parts in a large cast are filled by Alain Cuny as an intellectual friend, and Annibale Ninchi as Marcello’s father.




The Story:

Basically, the film follows Marcello around for a few days as he deals with a crazy girlfriend, has a tryst with the above-mentioned heiress, lusts after the furtherly-above-mentioned American movie star, chats with his friend at a church, hangs out with his father for a night, goes to a crazy party and then ends up on a beach.

That’s really it, and it is in no way as exciting as it sounds.

The Artisticness:

Wow. Beyond having a job and writing some other things, you want to know why it took me so long to write this up? The first three times I tried to watch this film, I fell asleep. I finally got down to it today, and made it through a long stretch and felt my eyes drooping again, so I paused it to see how long it could be. Surely, there couldn’t be much left… I was halfway through. Yeah.

This film was beautifully shot, so far as I can tell, and who knows? The camerawork may have been revolutionary, but I couldn’t stay awake. As I tried to make the journey with Marcello, who played it alternatively smug, mute, or misogynistic, I found it hard to really care to keep up.

So I’m sure I’m a philistine that missed the clever significance of the statue of Christ being flown to the Vatican dangling from helicopter in the film’s opening scene, contrasted with the fake vision of the Holy Virgin Marcello investigates much later. I’m sure the way all the high society actors and socialites our hero encountered spoke in non-sequitors and empty platitudes because it was an artistic way to show the disaffection of the wealthy and the impossibility of true happiness.

Anita Ekberg certainly hammed it up in the process of confirming that Europe has always thought the United States to be kind of air-headed, but nice to look at.

And I’m sure there’s some crazier stuff in 8 ½, from what I’ve heard, but Fellini doesn’t seem to write a good part for the fairer sex. We encounter the following women in La Dolce Vita: Marcello’s suicidal, nutso (ex?) girlfriend who can’t live without him, a disaffected heiress that sleeps with him at a stranger’s house, the ditzy actress that mostly acts like a giggly five-year old, a woman who celebrates her divorce by doing a striptease, and finally, a woman that Marcello rides like a horse and covers with feathers when he’s in a foul mood at that same party, near the end of the film.

THE ENDING! IF THERE WERE A PLOT, THESE WOULD BE SPOILERS!

The only real movement to the film is that Marcello’s intellectual pal Steiner, one of the few characters not spoiled, selfish, or downright annoying, abruptly kills his two children and then himself two-thirds of the way through. While I’m sure this has a lot to do with Marcello’s bad mood at the party the next day, it’s not really touched upon.

Or maybe I’m just not smart enough to read more into it. Ah well.

END SPOILERS

Overall- Should It Be Higher, Lower?

Well, I think if you consider the achievement of this film within the larger context of post World War II Italian cinema, then you can- zzzzzzzzzzzzz… buh? Oh sorry, I just nearly bored myself to death.

Lower.

The Legacy-

Well, it won the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, and the Palm D’Or at Cannes. So there’s that. I bet there’s a Criterion edition of it and everything. So it must be pretty cool, I guess.

Also, this film popularized the term "paparazzi." So there's that.

The Best Video Of It On YouTube



Apparently, this scene where the actress ends up in a fountain and implores Marcello to join her is one of the most famous in modern cinema. But mostly it just reminds me of this Family Guy takedown of Dharma & Greg. (“Dharma, get down off that couch!” “Nuh-uh, silly, not until you come up here!”).

Leftover Thoughts:

• I wish they could all be thoughtful discussions, but sometimes I just can’t stay awake. My bad- but for the record, I never asleep, during anything. So it’s almost impressive that Fellini found the right formula of ridiculously slow pacing, prentetiousness, and characters I could care less about to get me to doze off.
• I did like the scene (parts, anyway) where Marcello spends the evening catching up with his father, and implores him to stay longer. It was a subtle reminder that me was losing touch with his roots in his glamorous gossip magazine lifestyle.
• The last scene of the film is a girl from an earlier scene in a café trying to call something to Marcello, but he can’t hear her- Women sure are hard to understand, huh Fellini?

Hey, it’s our first foray into an all-American genre: The Western. The first of around twelve or so on the countdown (more if you count modern neo-westerns like No Country For Old Men and There Will Be Blood) is 1956’s The Searchers.

The Key Players:

Adapted by Frank Nugent from Alan Le May’s novel of the same name, The Searchers is directed by the legendary John Ford, the all time record holder with four Best Director statuettes to his name (For The Informer, The Quiet Man, The Grapes Of Wrath, and How Green Was My Valley- none of which are Westerns, ironically). Ford directed some 140 films in his career, and defined the Western as we all know it.

And the lead role in this film was written for one man, and one man only- the star of 24 Ford films, John Wayne. We all know John Wayne, who took home one of just two Oscar nominations for True Grit, but remains an icon (just ask Paula Cole, who doesn't seem to realize that John Wayne would probably be a terrible boyfriend. But maybe not as bad as the Marlboro Man, who must not have any teeth by now).

There’s some other people in this cast, I guess, but nobody I recognize other than Natalie Wood in a brief part. Jeffrey Hunter costars as Wayne’s sidekick, essentially, but it’s largely a one-man show.



The Story:

1868, rural Texas: Wayne, a confederate veteran (who’s been up to God knows what for the last three years), finally comes back to visit his brother’s family. The reunion with the whole family goes swimmingly, except for some slightly racist things Wayne says to Hunter, the family's adopted son who happens to be one eigth Native American.

Then the local Ranger shows up to round up a posse to hunt some Comanche (which Wayne pronounces "co-MANTCH" for the whole film) sighted nearby causing trouble, and enlists Hunter and Wayne, despite the latter's dubious past.

Wayne shares some silent looks of longing with his brothers wife (!) and then they leave. But it turns out that it a was all a ruse, and the Comanche raid the farm while everyone's away- killing the brother, his wife, and their young son, and spiriting away their two daughters.

So Wayne, Hunter and company try and track them down, only to lose them after an initial skirmish. Our two hero's and the older daugher's fiancee proceed with the search alone, only to find the older daughter's body (whereupon the fiancee flips out and gets himself shot).

So then it's just a matter of a over five-year-long search for the younger daughter (played by Natalie Wood by the time they catch up with her), now living among the Comanche.

And this whole time Hunter has a girlfriend that may or may not marry some yokel dweeb if our heroes insist on traveling the country all the time.

The Artisticness:

It's a western. There's long, beatiful (if you like that sort of thing) shots of barren landscapes and windy desert. I can see the appeal, I suppose.

But the real appeal of The Searchers is its relative subversiveness- well before the murky, gritty Leone westerns of the 70's, this film doesn't present the frontier struggle with any sort of black and white, cowboys v. Indians cohesiveness.

Wayne is an antihero, a badass who knows a surprising amount about the Native American way of life but thinks of them as less than human nonetheless. He's cavalier with the lives of hostages, and takes extra shots when his enemy is in retreat

It's not your standard John Wayne character, anyway. Equally spiteful is the Comanche Chief ("Scar"), who kidnaps a white girls for each one of his dead sons. And the savagery of both sides of the central conflict are merely in the forefront of an entire landscape of treachery and self-serving malice. Half the people that Wayne and Hunter run into offer help with their search, and then try and kill them for their lunch money when they turn their backs.

The Searchers is a depature from your Gene Autry, Howdy Doody frontier types, to say the least, (in fact, the dweeby singing cowboy trying to woo Hunter's girl gets punched in the face at a point), and it paved the way for the genre to be less of a goofy talkie picture where guys wore bandanas or feathers and more of, you know, an art form.

THE ENDING! SPOILERS!

So when they initially catch up to the Comanche, Wood remembers them but wants to stay with "my people" instead of come back. At this, Wayne tries to shoot her since being a Comanche chief's bride is "worse than death," but Hunter stands in his way and then Comanche shotguns start going off until they have to leave.

They head back to town (I'm not clear which town- have they been in Texas this whole time?), break up Hunter's flame's wedding to the dorky guy, round up a posse and march on the Indian camp- Hunter sneaks in for Wood before the raid starts (Wayne wanted to just march in, risking her swift execution by her captors, because he is not a nice guy).

End result- Hunter shoots Scar, Wood inexplicably changes her mind and wants to go with them, and Wayne nearly shoots her again but stops himself when it occurs to him he might be batshit crazy.

Then everyone but Wayne goes back inside to continue there lives and be normal people, but he stays out in the wild because that's where borderline-pyschotic anti-heroes live, and the film ends with a great shot of a door closing on him and the sunset.

It's a good ending, in that it subverts your expectations for any kind of grand finale (the Comanche are better scalpers than marksmen, I guess) and makes the high tension about John Wayne, a beloved hero, chasing down a scampering Natalie Wood with death in his eyes. And of course he stops himself, but for a moment there you're like no way!

END SPOILERS

Overall- Should It Be Higher, Lower?

Well, to be quite honest, I've seen some other random John Wayne movie where he has to protect a bunch of children or something maybe (actually The Cowboys- where he hires schoolboys to help herd cattle. I saw it in middle school) and none of the Leone westerns, so I'm not a great judge on where this ranks among the greatest westerns.

But it was a decent enough film, even though it dragged a bit with the years of searching, and 241 doesn't seem out of line. Plus, it's John Wayne! Come on!

The Legacy-

In addition to the stark depicition of racism and moral turptidue opening the door for countless great future Westerns, this film ranks as a classic influence on plenty of other filmmakers.

The discovery of the brother's burned farm is more or less directly referenced in Star Wars, when Luke realizes Uncle Owen won't ever ask him to run errands again. My other favorite tidbit is that Wayne's character's cynical refrain of "that'll be the day" from the film inspired the Buddy Holly song of the same name.

Also it was officially named the greatest Western ever by the American Film Institute on their 2008 lists by genre (which shafted Sergio Leone, probably for being Italian).

The Best Video Of It On YouTube:

Some YouTuber calls this "probably the best ending in the history of cinema." Yeah, I don't know about that, but it's a cool shot:



Leftover Thoughts:

A lot of people make a big deal about the secretly-in-love with the wife's brother thing in terms of Wayne's motivations, but I think that only comes out after multiple veiwings and thinking too much about it. Really not that played-up.

There's a remnant of an earlier kind of western when Hunter tries to bargain for a blanket with a different tribe, and ends up with a wife instead. Hilarity ensues, but then she gets killed by some U. S. Rangers- whoops.

Also, to try and convince Hunter that they should just barge into Scar's camp (and risk Wood's death) he tells him one of the scalps of hair Scar showed them to initimidate them was Hunter's mother's. This is never mentioned again.

I hope The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (another Ford/Wayne project) is significantly different, because it's coming up soon on the list.

This is a movie parody, the idea for which was inspired by ripped off shamelessly lifted from a writer known as Cleolinda Jones. She did a whole bunch of them, called Movies In Fifteen Minutes.

She even published a book of them, which is only available on Amazon UK for some reason. So go check those out if you like this at all, or maybe thought the idea had potential but could've been funnier in execution. She's a pro.

For my part, I kept trying to write a review of The X-Files 2 and could only keep making fun of it. And this was the inevitable result.

Two notes: Can anyone think of a better indicator of the brevity of the parody than "In A Nutshell" (and "In Fifteen Minutes," obviously)? Or maybe it just strikes me as a dumb suffix this time because it sounds like someone wants to believe in a nutshell. Who doesn't believe in nutshells? Nuts have to come from somewhere.

Also I joked that not only did Amanda Peet bring her "acting face" for her FBI Agent role, she also sported her "FBI-Bangs." So that's where that name comes from... Enjoy!

‘The X-Files: I Want To Believe’ In A Nutshell

Night, Some Lady's House:

SOME LADY: Listen to the score of this film! It’s so ominous and creepy. I hope there are no creepy bald guys around.

CREEPY BALD GUY: Boo!

SOME LADY: Aaah! Eat garden hoe!

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: I have something to tell you about the future. Also, YAA! (kidnapping ensues).


Some Snowy Field, later (but edited so you think it’s the same time what?):

RANDOM FBI AGENT: Why are we all following this old priest around and combing through this snowy field? And why are there so many of us for just this one field? Seriously- there’s like thirty of us out here, you guys.

AGENT FBI-BANGS (Amanda Peet): Quiet, he’s having a vision.

FATHER JOE (Billy Connolly): Here, it’s here!

RANDOM FBI AGENT: Where? It’s all just snow!

(some other random FBI agents dig to find a severed arm with some garden-hoe-like scratches on it)

RANDOM FBI AGENT: How did he know that was there?

AGENT FBI-BANGS: He’s psychic, you see.

RANDOM FBI AGENT: Oh. So he said he had a vision of a severed arm and you just took his word for it? You mobilized like fifty FBI agents on some nutjob’s whim?

AGENT FBI-BANGS: …

RANDOM FBI AGENT: I can see maybe if he’d had the arm already, but-

AGENT FBI-BANGS: Look I just don’t have much experience with this psychic stuff, okay? If only there was someone out there who did…


Christian Hospital Of Death:

SCULLY: And so, ladies, gentlemen, woman on the tv, I know none of the treatments for Little Johnny’s brain situation have worked so far, but I think we should pursue some experimental therapy because science is awesome- and I’m totally a doctor in case you forgot.

EVIL PRIEST BIG EARS: Well, the board feels that the boy is too cute to be in any more pain. Hospice, pronto!

SCULLY: No!

EVIL PRIEST BIG EARS: Yes!

SCULLY: No!

EVIL PRIEST BIG EARS: Yes!

(this is seriously how this subplot unfolds, for the whole film)


Later, in the Hallway:

AGENT XZIBIT: Dana Scully? Hi, I’m an FBI Agent, for real. We need you to contact Fox Mulder for us and tell him the FBI is willing to forgive everything that nobody remembers he did anyway if he’ll come help us with a case. For the FBI.

SCULLY: Wasn’t he sentenced to death or something like that?

AGENT XZIBIT: Yes, but we’ve got a missing FBI Agent/gardening enthusiast and we really need him to come in and disagree with everyone until the case is solved. Did I mention that I’m like a full FBI Agent? - I have a badge and everything.

SCULLY: Okay, Xzibit, I’ll tell him.


Scully’s House (Mulder’s house? Do they share it? I wasn’t clear):

MULDER: Did you see these newspaper clippings? I’m thinking of making a paper maché.

SCULLY: Mulder, I’m worried about your mental health- there are negative effects to long-term isolation, even though we may or may not share this house.

MULDER: I’m in perfect mental health! I keep my Unabomber beard neatly trimmed!

SCULLY: Yeah… Anyway, some rapper told me that the FBI would call off the manhunt and forget everything if you help them find some missing agent.

MULDER: Really? What if it’s a trap?

SCULLY: Sure, but what if it’s a plot device?

MULDER: I’ll do it. Are you going to be with me the whole way, or abruptly turn into a wet blanket when I get obsessed and take things too far?

SCULLY: No promises.


Washington, D. C.:

MULDER: Wow, it’s funny how we could get here in a helicopter from Alaska, or wherever it was so snowy.

(It was Somseret, West Virginia. Really?)

AGENT FBI-BANGS: So, Agent Foxy, I’ve read your files and I have to say you’re pretty boyishly handsome. What’s with the beard?

SCULLY: Ahem.

AGENT FBI-BANGS: Huh? Oh, anyway there’s these missing women, and the last victim was an FBI agent, and now there’s this priest dude who claims to have visions from god and he led us to a random severed arm.

MULDER: Psychic, you say? Well I may not be able to prove his visions are real, but I’ll defend to the death his right to have them.

SCULLY: I guess we can take a look…

AGENT FBI-BANGS: Also he’s a convicted pedophile.

SCULLY: WHAT!? Screw this noise!


Pederast Dorm:

FATHER JOE: That poor girl… I didn’t ask for these visions, just like I didn’t ask for little boys to be so-

AGENT FBI-BANGS: I’m gonna stop you right there. So Fox, what’s the S. O. P. in this situation? Little cards with lines and squiggles? Hypnosis? Any kind of Scientific Method?

MULDER: Well, mostly I just stubbornly refuse to doubt them until something randomly happens that backs me up, and then I solve the case somehow.

AGENT XZIBIT: That’s it? This FBI Agent is skeptical.

SCULLY: Yeah, that’s pretty much it.

AGENT FBI-BANGS: Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you pardoned or whatever? That’s all you’ve got? At least shave your stupid beard, dammit!

FATHER JOE: Uh.. maybe I could go take a look at the house?

AGENT FBI-BANGS: Fine, whatever. Lead the way, Father Joe.

SCULLY: Why is everyone calling him “Father” Joe? Doesn’t that get revoked or something?


In The Car:

FATHER JOE: So who are you again? Didn’t I see you at the NAMBLA convention?

MULDER: No, no- it’s just the beard. I used to investigate paranormal phenomena for the FBI.

FATHER JOE: You believe in that stuff?

Me: Say “I Want To Believe”! Say it!

MULDER: Let’s just say I want to believe.

Me: Whoo! Nailed it!


Some Other Car:

SOME OTHER LADY: Nothing like driving down deserted roads after a good swim. Hey, that truck’s getting awful close…

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: In Russia, hay bales you! ::Knocks Some Other Lady’s Car Into Bale of Hay:: (kidnapping ensues)

Some Lady’s House:

FATHER JOE: Oh yes, the midi-chlorians are really high here..

SCULLY: What?! I’ve had enough of this charlatan.

MULDER: If he’s faking, how did he find the arm?

SCULLY: He’s clearly involved in whatever went down!

AGENT XZIBIT: Maybe he has a really good sense of smell?

MULDER, SCULLY: ….

AGENT XZIBIT: Hey, uh, I’m totally in the-

MULDER: FBI, we get it. You’re very believable. Scully, how many ridiculous things do you need to witness before you start to believe?

SCULLY: Always one more, crackpot.

FATHER JOE: The visions! So portentous yet vague! ::CRIES BLOOD::

SCULLY: Meh.


The Next Morning, At Scully’s (Mulder’s?) House:

SCULLY: So there’s this little boy with a brain thing...

MULDER: What’s his name?

SCULLY: Uh.. Little Johnny? No wait, it’s Christian. Isn’t that weird that that’s his name and I’m having a crisis of faith about his treatment?

MULDER: That’s pretty contrived, yeah. Maybe stem cells?

SCULLY: Go on…

MULDER: I was just throwing it out there- I don’t know anything about them. But maybe you could google “stem cell therapy,” learn all about it, get approval, funding, and the parents to agree all in a day and perform the procedure tomorrow?

SCULLY: Come on, there’s no way that would be possible- not even here in British Columbia or maybe Virginia. By the by, you know what’s weird? That severed arm had a horse tranquilizer in it, but we all just sort of shrugged and moved on.

MULDER: What the what!? ::Shaves Beard:: It’s time for some serious obsessiveness.

SCULLY: I’ll catch up with you later. ::Googles “stem cell therapy”:: (this seriously happens!)


Local FBI Headquarters:

MULDER: Horse tranquilizers!

AGENT FBI-BANGS: Another swimming missing woman!

FATHER JOE: Visions!

AGENT XZIBIT: FBI!


The Woods:

SCULLY: Mulder, there’s nothing out here. Also your sister is dead already, just move on!

MULDER: Wow, that was uncalled for. I know that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to look for Samantha- I mean, Some Lady.

FATHER JOE: The visions, they’re hazy and unclear. I’m not sure if- no, it’s down there actually.

RANDOM FBI AGENT: This is like the coldest West Virginia winter ever, people. ::Digging:: What’s down here, anyway?

BUNCH OF BODY PARTS: Boo!

MULDER: Ha! See?

SCULLY: This doesn’t prove anything.

FATHER JOE: Hey Scully: "swing away."

SCULLY: What?

FATHER JOE: I mean: "don’t give up."

SCULLY: You mean on my patient? Should I use these cell stems I’ve been reading about?

FATHER JOE: ::Shrugs::


Some Other Lady’s Wrecked Car:

MULDER: Looks like another abduction victim. Father Joe?

FATHER JOE: I got nothing. A hay-monster?

MULDER: Oh-kay… maybe this medical bracelet and swimsuit will tell us something- to the pool!


Christian Hospital Of Death:

EVIL PRIEST BIG EARS: So we’re transferring Christian to a hospice where God doesn’t have to think about him and feel guilty.

SCULLY: But what about the experimental-

EVIL PRIEST BIG EARS: God doesn’t experiment! It was six days and then “hey, that looks good to me”! No meddling!

SCULLY: But the parents-

EVIL PRIEST BIG EARS: The parents saw it my way after three hours of cajoling. Now clearly the catholic church always has the best interests of children in mind. Good day!


The Pool:

POOL ATTENDANT: Yep, both missing ladies are here in the log. Funny how they always wore bracelets with their blood type on them. They had a whole little “AB Negative” club that met on Thursdays.

MULDER: Clearly they were targeting people with that blood type! Maybe they put out a craigslist ad or something. What do you think, Agent FBI-Bangs?

AGENT FBI-BANGS: Hey! My name is Dakota Whitney.

MULDER: Yeah, that sounds like a name someone would have.


Some Other Hospital:

RANDOM COP: Excuse me sir, are you a licensed organ transporter person?

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: ::Flees::


Pederast Dorm:

FATHER JOE: Agent Scully? Wha?

SCULLY: Why did you say “Don’t give up” to me?

FATHER JOE: I’m just a vessel.

SCULLY: Why would God reward you with psychic visions after what you’ve done? Plus, why are they more cryptic than the first season of Lost?

FATHER JOE: Proverbs 25:2- “It is the glory of God to conceal a thing: but the honour of kings is to search out a matter.”

SCULLY: So… I should do the stem cells?

FATHER JOE: ::Seizures::


Creepy Russian Lab:

SOME OTHER LADY: They left this cage open! Maybe if I crawl away very loudly I can-

CREEPY RUSSIAN DOG: Boo!


Christian Hospital Of Death:

SOME RANDOM NURSE: Here’s your giant needle of stem cells, doctor.

SCULLY: Take that, religion!

SOME RANDOM NURSE: I can’t believe we just had those laying around for this.


Downtown Richmond:

AGENT FBI-BANGS: We’ve tracked Russian Leoben to this organ facility. Turns out he was married to some Creepy Bald Guy that Father Joe molested when he was little! Xzibit, you lead the raid up there- I’ll wait in the street with Foxy Clean-Shaven.

AGENT XZIBIT: Xzibit? My name is Mosley Drummy… what is with the names in this movie? ::leaves::

AGENT FBI-BANGS: So, Mulder, there’s another case I need you to take a look at, but we’ll have to go back to my apartment to-

MULDER: There he is!

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: ::Drops Cooler, Runs::

MULDER: ::Runs::

AGENT FBI-BANGS: (running) Wait! How are you so much faster than I am? Aren’t you nearing fifty?

(they chase Russian Leoben into a building under construction, but lose him- Mulder ends up two floors above Agent FBI-Bangs)

MULDER: (calling down) I lost him!

AGENT FBI-BANGS: Mulder! Have you seen him? I didn’t see him anywhere, so it’s probably safe to lean precariously on this railing to shout up at you.

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: Shove!

MULDER: Oklahoma Brittany! Wait, that's not right. South Dakota Slim? I mean, FBI-Bangs!

AGENT FBI-BANGS: ::Impales::


Back On The Street:

AGENT XZIBIT: Well, nothing fishy going on up there. Hey, I wonder what’s in this cooler?

GWENYTH PALTROW’S SOME LADY’S HEAD: Boo!


Christian Hospital Of Death:

SCULLY: Mulder, where have you been? I totally did the stem cell thing, without any training even! Also it turns out Father Joe has lung cancer.

MULDER: Father Joe, do you recognize this Creepy Bald Guy’s picture?

FATHER JOE: Not really. Is that Gollum?

MULDER: It’s one of your victims!

FATHER JOE: …

SCULLY: Just for the record, is the original Some Lady still alive?

FATHER JOE: The visions say… yes, she is.

SCULLY: Owned. They just found her head in a box! Enjoy your cancer, faker.

MULDER: Nice burn. Anyway, there’s still another victim to rescue, so-

SCULLY: I can’t look into the darkness with you anymore, Mulder.

MULDER: Wait- wasn’t my involvement in this all your idea?

SCULLY: Nevermind that now! The point is, if you go any further with this I’m not coming home tonight.

MULDER: So we were living together!

SCULLY: Also you’re out of Orange Juice.


Nutter’s House of Feed and Tranquilizer:

MULDER: Anyone buy this sort of horse tranquilizer from like an hour ago?

CLERK: Hell, son, we give that stuff away with every six pack! That Russian guy coming in is our biggest customer.

MULDER: Russian guy? ::Hides::

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: Yes, can I refill this prescription?

CLERK: That’ll be a forty-five minute wait.


Another Snowy Road:

MULDER: This Russian guy is so dense he doesn’t notice me following him, when I’m the only other car on the-

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: SMASH!

SCULLY’S CAR: ::Tumbles::


Christian Hospital Of Death:

CHRISTIAN’S DAD: We’re having some doubts about this procedure- isn’t it pretty painful?

SCULLY: You know what else is painful? A red-ass beatdown. We’re doing this thing.

CHRISTIAN’S MOM: If you were a mother you’d understand.

SCULLY: First of all, I’m pretty sure I am (sort of?), and secondly WHAT DID I JUST SAY!?


A Snowbank:

MULDER: Ugh.. should I go for help? Find my cell phone? NO TIME! We’re doing the rest of this on foot, head-trauma style!

MULDER: … I hope Scully’s not mad about her car.


Scully’s House:

SCULLY: Good old google- I'd never pull off half that "doctor" stuff without it. I wonder if there’s anything else about stem cells on here…

GOOGLE: Stem cells totally kept this severed dog’s head alive! (Are you feeling lucky?)

SCULLY: I should call Mulder about this, even though I was pretty final back there…

SCULLY: ::Dials::…. these voice-mail menus take forever.


Local FBI Headquarters:

SCULLY: Mulder’s missing! He won’t answer his phone!

AGENT XZIBIT: And?

SCULLY: And we need to find him!

AGENT XZIBIT: I think you need another branch for that. You, see, I’m in the-

SCULLY: Saying it all the time won’t make it plausible! Why are you here, anyway!? Do you at least have a song on the soundtrack?

AGENT XZIBIT: Actually, I-

SCULLY: NO TIME!


Creepy Russian Lab:

MULDER: Wow, this place is creepy. At least I have the element of-

CREEPY RUSSIAN DOG (WITH TWO HEADS!): YAA! (YAA!)


A Snowbank:

SCULLY: My car!

SKINNER: He must have gone further down this road on foot.

SCULLY: Thanks for your help. Hey, how’d you get here so quickly?

SKINNER: They just leave those helicopters laying around everywhere.


Creepy Russian Lab:

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: Don’t worry, my Creepy Bald Love, soon you’ll have a fresh, young woman’s body and you’ll be… well, even more creepy, but alive.

MULDER: Not on my watch! Unhook that machine! Turn this process around! Hit Ctrl + Z!

RUSSIAN DOCTORS: (confused yelling)

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: Hey, you know what helps with head-wounds? Horse tranquilizer.

MULDER: Yeah, let’s give that a shot. ::Falls Down::


Some Snowy Road:

SKINNER: Look how snowy it is here! We’ll never figure out where he went.

SCULLY: Stop- let’s go back to those mailboxes.

SKINNER: This is no time for identity theft!

SCULLY: No, look, mailbox 252 has a medical company address in it! We’re close!

SKINNER: Why mailbox 252?

SCULLY: It’s the same number as a biblical verse some possibly psychic pedophiliac priest mentioned before!

SKINNER: Uh, isn’t that kind of ridic-

SCULLY: NO TIME!


Creepy Russian Shed:

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: I'm here to prepare you to pass through the next door, to discover what lies in the space between life and death.

MULDER: Buh?

RUSSIAN LEOBEN: I mean, Ax-Time!

SCULLY: Thwack!

MULDER: Scully, you came back! Funny how you always give me some sort of ultimatum and then cave.

SCULLY: This is the last time I swear.


Creepy Russian Lab:

RANDOM FBI AGENT: Hands up, Russians! Uh, can we just unplug this stufff, or…

SCULLY: Stand back- I’ve got some doctoring to do! ::Saves Some Other Lady::

CREEPY BALD GUY’S SEVERED HEAD: Hey, don’t pull that tube out of- ::Dies::

SKINNER: ‘Sup, Mulder. You still crazy?

MULDER: I dunno, are you still bald?


Scully And Mulder’s House:

MULDER: So not only did Father Joe die, he’s suspected of collaborating with the crazy Russian Dr. Frankensteins!

SCULLY: Meh.

MULDER: How can you say that?

SCULLY: Eight-year-olds, dude.

MULDER: Whatever. What’s on for today, more stem cells?

SCULLY: I don’t know, everyone seems to be against me on that. Plus I’m not clear if it’s even legal to begin with.

MULDER: But didn’t Father Joe say “Don’t give up”?

SCULLY: He could have been talking about anything! Like “Don’t give up on The Wire after one episode!”

MULDER: Scully…

SCULLY: Fine, I’ll do it! Can’t you ever use my first name? We sort of (maybe?) have a kid together for Chrissakes.


Christian Hospital Of Death:

EVIL PRIEST BIG EARS: ::Glares::

SCULLY: Nyah!

CHRISTIAN’S PARENTS: ::Cowering::

SCULLY: Damn straight.

SOME RANDOM NURSE: Are you ready to begin, Dr. Scully?

SCULLY: (pause) Yes- yes I am. Let’s stem up some cells or whatever!

SOME RANDOM NURSE: I don’t think that even makes any-

SCULLY: NO TIME!

END

Editorial note: This was originally supposed to be about A Christmas Story, but not only has it since fallen out of the top 250, I have no desire to write about it. At all. Seriously- we've all seen it- it's like beige wallpaper at this point. I'm sure there's a long discussion about American consumerism and the corruption of the Holiday spirit in there somewhere, but again- not a single word is coming to me.

So new rule: when the above two conditions happen (off the list, I couldn't give a rat's ass), I get to replace it with something that has since appeared on the list. This way, hopefully, these entries are more engaging are thoughtful. Today's replacement entry? Once.

The Key Players:

John Carney, an independent Irish film and TV director, had the idea for a musical film (not a musical per se, but a film with lots of songs in) following the life of a busker, a street musician.

Carney was a member of the band The Frames in the early 90s, so he turned to Frames frontman Glen Hansard to write songs for the film, and provide notes about the life of a busker, which Hansard had been years before. After Cillian Murphy dropped out of the project, the decision was made to have Hansard star (he'd had a minor role in The Commitments in 1992).

Then they needed a Eastern European female piano player for the costarring role: Hansard just happened to have recorded an album with the daughter of a friend, Marketa Irglova (whose name has two accents, but Blogger is not being helpful to me in making that happen).



The Story:

Very simple. In Dublin, a busker meets an immigrant pianist. They play some music, share their respective heartbreak, and then she helps him record some songs before he leaves for London, but will they find comfort in each other? Carney says you can write the plot "on the back of postage stamp."

The Artisticness:

Wes Anderson, a very music centric filmmaker, draws inspiration from music before even writing a screenplay. Apparently he had the idea of someone getting off a bus, set to Nico's "These Days," and then just wrote The Royal Tenenbaums around that scene.

And although this film existed in some form before the music of Hansard and Irglova was incorporated, the songs are clearly the central nervous system- not only of story, but the characters as well.

The gravity of the songwriting doubles for acting as well. There's an early scene where Hansard is called upon to tell Irglova about his ex-girlfriend- apparently he stumbled over the lines so much that they made the decision to have his character take out his guitar and sing a goofy little song instead about getting cheated on. It's a great moment that seems natural for the character.

And the songs themselves are incredible. I may be cynical (too cynical to want to write about Christmas, anyway). But I will always, always be moved by music, especially set to film. The way the songs are worked into the setting is brilliant- as it's about musicians, it's not distracting when people burst into song. The only movie magic is perhaps in the way they always nail the first take, although there are a few parts emulating the creative process as we see songs being written.

The decision to use actual musicians was important for the naturalistic feel to the songwriting. And it probably helped that it was the musicians that wrote the songs. And that knew each other (more on this later). The featurette on the DVD (yeah, I watched all of the features, and the commentary. Boo-yah.) makes it clear that Carney changed dialogue and character history in the middle of filming scenes, from take to take, making it more of an off the cuff situation than a studio production.

That said, there's nothing visually remarkable achieved the $160,000 budget, but I'm not complaining. Apparently a bunch of people thought it was a documentary (really? In the words of Jack Nicholson: This ain't reality TV!).

Artistic decisions I loved: the two characters are nameless the entire film, just because it never comes up. And the film has no score beyond the songs, which bleed from one scene to the next, lending weight to montages more than some random violins.

THE ENDING! SPOILERS!

So basically, they record some of the busker's songs, come close to making something happen, but ultimately he goes to London to win back his ex and her estranged husband (and baby daddy) comes over the channel to try and work things out. But he buys her a piano, and the music plays us off. Sigh.

Of course in real life, Hansard and Irglova actually got together either during or just after filming, and are now touring, winning Oscars for "Falling Slowly" from this movie, and living in house with a whole bunch of animals outside of Dublin. And despite an age difference comparable to the one I said was creepy in Roman Holiday, it's adorable because every other word Hansard says in the movie is "cool" like a little kid anyway.

END SPOILERS

Overall- Should It Be Higher, Lower?

Can I tell you how much higher I think this should be than hovering right around 250 (currently somewhere below it)? It may well be in my top five of all time if I didn't get all High Fidelity nutso when trying to rank things as such.

So higher, clearly.

The Legacy:

Like I mentioned, after a brief controversy about when precisely it was written, the song "Falling Slowly" took home the Best Original Song Oscar in February in the highlight of the ceremony. And it won the Grammy equivalent of that, although I didn't know that until I read it just now (why is the "oh- a Grammy" clip from the Simpsons not on YouTube? Come on, internet, you can do better).

They've also since signed to Warner/Chappell records and have sold-out a US tour (or at least sold out their show in Milwaukee in two seconds).

Carney, for his part, is using his new higher profile to reshoot an abandoned project called Zonad. Kudos to that.

The Best Video Of It On YouTube:



All about the high note. If that note doesn't move you, your heart is made of stone and you probably hate things like puppies and sunshine.

Leftover Thoughts:

• An underlying theme to this film that gets to me is the motivation that it takes to achieve something beautiful, something worthwhile. The struggle of the main character to get off his arse, as it were and put his music out there is as important as the relationship angle. The title apparently is a reference to this- although there's a song over the credits that's all "once I knew how to talk to you, but not anymore" Carney said in interviews that it's a reference to artists that say they'll make a serious go of it "once" they get this or that sorted out. Things I plan on doing once I sort my life out- writing a novel, becoming a standup comedian or a professional film critic, and maybe doing my dishes.

So I missed some time. Maybe I just wanted to roll over in bed and petulantly shirk away my duties like some sort of princess or something. You can all have your money back, I promise. Anyway, let’s get to 1953’s Roman Holiday.

The Key Players:

Our director: William Wyler, thrice an Oscar winner and helmer of similar romantic classics like Funny Girl and How To Steal A Million, and then also Ben-Hur. What?

Our screenwriter- Dalton Trumbo, one of the Hollywood ten blacklisted for supposed communists sympathies. This screenplay actually won an Oscar, but Trumbo’s widow didn’t get it on his behalf until 1993. Good thing Hollywood is completely devoid of prejudice these days, right?

And of course this is Audrey Hepburn’s big coming out party. Do I need to write some sentences about who Audrey Hepburn is? Or Gregory Peck, for that matter? I say no, no I don’t.

A supporting role for the city of Rome in this one- allegedly the decision to shoot in black and white was made so the stars weren’t overshadowed by the background vistas.



The Story:

Pretty simple: Hepburn is a princess (of somewhere that isn’t Italy) visiting Rome, Peck is an American journalist (like all the real journalists are).

Hepburn, weary of her life of constant public appearances and functions and royal oppression, has a pseudo-panic attack, and so her handlers give her a shot and put her to bed. Then she decides to escape for a night on the town, only to start falling asleep on the sidewalk from the drugs.

Enter reluctant savior Peck, who eventually realizes who she is, and that a story about her highness with her feathers down would sell some newspapers- hence a plan is born.

But wait- what’s that in the air? Is it love? Is it pizza? Nope, probably love.

The Artisticness:

For a Hollywood just emerging from the studio system, I imagine the great appeal of Roman Holiday was the novelty of location shooting- who wouldn’t prefer the palaces and alleyways of Rome to the same fake snow and dance halls that you saw in the last twenty Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers movies?

And to Wyler’s credit, he uses the location well- letting the first third of the film unfold slowly as Hepburn sleepily makes her escape.

Hepburn and Peck don’t overplay the romance either, at least not until late in the game. But even then, the plot doesn’t approach anything ridiculous or contrived.

THE ENDING! SPOILERS!

So I think the best part of the movie, and maybe it’s just from the fifties, is that Hepburn and Peck don’t have a torrid affair or anything, they just realize they really care for each other after only a couple of days, and then get sad when she has to return to her princessy duties. And it's not to be chaste or anything, just that anything more would be ridiculous for the time frame (but you can fall in love with Natalie Portman in four days. Just getting that straight).

So there is a tearful goodbye, but otherwise it’s light on melodrama, which is nice. In fact, it’s kind of amazing to me that a film this laid back in scope could be nominated for so many Academy awards and win three of them (Hepburn, screenplay, and… costume design? Okay…).

No romantic comedy about a little two day jaunt through Italy would ever get a Best Picture nomination these days, which is a shame.

END SPOILERS


Overall- Should It Be Higher, Lower?

Man, I’m really blowing though this entry, aren’t I? They won’t all be 1400+ words, I guess. But really, I liked this film, and I’m glad I finally saw it for historical purposes, but I don’t see a particular need to see it again.

So let’s say 243 is just right, who knows? Maybe I’d watch it if I felt like going to Rome.

The Legacy

Clearly, Hepburn went on to a long and storied career, mostly as a princess-like character in other things. She never did win another little golden statue, though, not even for acting like a blind person.

Peck was actually top-billed for this film but has been overshadowed by his costar in hindsight, and is mostly remembered for being semi-creepily sixteen years older than Hepburn’s 22 years when this was filmed. He won an Oscar much later for killing a mockingbird, or something.

Roman Holiday, for it’s part, has become one of the many films selected for the US National Film Registry as "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant." But I won’t be buying a copy. Maybe as a gift…

The Best Video Of It On YouTube:

Gregory Peck with the good old Ancient-Statue-Bites-Off-Hand bit. And I know this is because I’m familiar with Peck’s later work as a wise older gentleman and not his early work taking roles Cary Grant turned down (as this role was), but it’s scenes like this that get a little too “kindly old grandpa” to overcome the age difference.



Leftover Thoughts:

• Eddie Albert does have some fun slapstick scenes where Peck spills things on him to keep him quiet. There’s some other fun screwball moments, but not enough to watch this again.
• I thought I missed the country Hepburn’s “Princess Ann” is from in the opening newsreel, but it’s actually never named, and not really important. The point is in her country no one has any fun, which is why she needs an American journalist to show her how.
• This was however, a huge step up from Network. Gah.
• The trailer up there informs us that "all the things happen to them that you'd always hope for on the happiest day of your life!" So don't feel bad about your miserable existence, John Q. Moviegoer, just escape to Rome and forget it.
  

Hello, everybody. Do you feel the urge to yell at thunderstorms? Are you plagued by an irrational desire to spontaneously embark on long soliloquies about how mad you are (perhaps especially when you’re mad as hell?) ? Then Network may be the 1976 movie for you.

The Key Players:

Sidney Lumet, a multiple award winner and director of classic things that we will get to later like 12 Angry Men and Dog Day Afternoon (but also the director of The Wiz). He works from a script by screenwriter and playwright Paddy Chayefsky.

William Holden, the star of Sunset Boulevard and Oscar-winning star of Stalag 17 acts as our audience surrogate, an old-timer network news producer that’s getting to old for this proverbial shiznit. He mostly frowns and then lectures people.

Peter Finch is the iconic news castor that flips out on air when told of his impending retirement. After his death while promoting the film of a heart attack in January 1977, he became the only Australian and dead guy to win an Academy Award the next month. He mostly freaks out and then lectures people.

Faye Dunaway, from Bonnie and Clyde and doubtlessly a bunch of other things, is the hotshot entertainment producer that wants to sleaze-ify the news for a bigger share. She mostly lectures people about how important ratings are.

Elsewhere, Robert Duvall angrily lectures people about profits or something, Beatrice Straight lectures Holden as his wife, and Ned Beatty drops in for a fiery guest lecture about economics (spoiler alert! I found this film a little preachy!).



The Story:

So there’s a fictional network called UBS (BS, get it?), and it has a floundering news program with a floundering old anchor named Howard Beale (Finch). It falls to longtime friend and producer Holden to tell a whacked out Finch that he’s being asked to resign in two weeks time.

Finch naturally goes on air and announces that he’s planning to shoot himself on the air the following Tuesday. This causes of course an uproar with the bigwigs, with Duvall’s proxy for the parent company among them. Finch is fired, but then appears to come to his senses and asks to make an apology on air, to go out with dignity. Instead he goes on a rant about how he’s run out of bullshit (oh my goodness he made a swear!), and the network flips out again but the public loves it.

Dunaway gets the bright idea to retool the entire program into a farcical variety news show with a mystic and a long segment of Finch ranting for a while to a zombie-like, salivating populace which adores him for ranting like a lunatic.

Holden, who was forced out when he let Finch start ranting in the first place, then brought back, then fired again when Duvall gets more power, meanwhile leaves his wife (Straight) to embark on a stilted and inexplicable affair with Dunaway.

Eventually Finch starts to rant in a near-populist bent that angers the overlords once again. And everyone has to choose between ratings and integrity, and nobody chooses the latter. Also there’s a bit with a faux Vietnamese Liberation Army and a mob heiress or something.

The Artisticness:

Visually this film is pretty straightforward- there’s some business with a big bank of TV monitors, but otherwise I can’t remember a single memorable shot.

But damn if you can’t tell Chayefsky’s a playwright- somebody shut the hell up already!

I’m not going to lie to you people- I’m pretty pretentious, most of the time, and I think on occasion about the fine line between intelligence and condescension- Lumet and Chayefsky more or less obliterate it with this story.

Actual lines from this Academy Award winning screenplay:

“I hurt. Don't you understand that? I hurt badly.”

“Howard Beale is processed instant God.”

“And that painful, decaying love is the only thing between you and the shrieking nothingness you live the rest of the day.”

Do you know how many of those reflect actual human speech? None of them! None! This is not a cardinal sin- it would be more than forgivable in a satire if any of it were, you know, at all funny. Let’s move on.

The theme, such as it is, is a pretty clear dissemination on the bastardization of journalistic integrity for gimmicky ratings stunts. From Edward Murrow to that show where strippers read the news. And by “dissemination” I mean brutal, constant bludgeoning over the head with the idea.

THE ENDING! IS EVEN THE PLOT SMUG?

Yes it is- Ned Beatty, basically the head of all the head honchos, gets royally pissed at Finch when his ranting disrupts a buyout by a Middle Eastern company. So he hauls him into his office, and yells at him about the free market economy and the idea that there are no nations, just an interconnected series of corporations and dollars until Finch converts to the cause and stops preaching dissention on the air.

Naturally then his ratings start to go south, but Beatty won’t let him be taken off the air. So Duvall, Dunaway and company decide to have him assassinated. On air. Which he is, in a ridiculously artificial final scene to the film, and then because we haven’t had enough people explaining things to our feeble little minds, the narrator comes on and says “This was the story of Howard Beale: The first known instance of a man who was killed because of lousy ratings.”

Thanks, chotch. Didn’t catch that one on my own. Oh also Holden and Dunaway end their relationship with a whole lot of terrible television-centric clichés. Yawn.

END SPOILERS

Overall- Should It Be Higher, Lower?

Can you tell I didn’t enjoy this very much, at all? Lower, definitely lower. I’m not arguing that the acting here isn’t fine, and the writing accomplished if insufferable. But there’s clearly a fundamental disconnect with the entire emphasis for me.

Is it because the idea that the network news isn’t a paragon of virtue is nothing remotely shocking or risqué to me? That’s probably part of it, yeah. I’m one of the young degenerates that gets my news online or from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart because it’s just as good a source as any.

But characters with more than one dimension might have helped. Finch was a nonsensical zealot, but the kind of zealot that’s easily swayed. Holden was a bland righteous old fart, who didn’t even have an explanation for his attraction to Dunaway (other than the plot required it). Dunaway was pretty shrill, sorry.

I did like Duvall, who always plays mean pretty well. But mostly this hit a bunch of bum notes for me.

The Legacy:

But I’m in the vast minority on that one. This won four Oscars out of ten nominations- Screenplay, Finch, as well as Leading Actress for Dunaway, and an inexplicable Supporting Actress statue for Straight (who chewed scenery for a full 5 minutes and 40 seconds).

And it’s number 64 or so on the AFI list. Um, okay?

I’m just throwing this out there- I’m a bigger fan of the ten second part of the scene in the trunk in Steven Soderbergh’s Out Of Sight where George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez randomly talk about and Clooney gets the line mostly wrong. I enjoyed that ten seconds more than this whole film.

The Best Video Of It On YouTube:

Just out of spite, the Out Of Sight Trunk scene instead. I make the rules around here.



Leftover Thoughts:

• I was supposed to laugh during this film, right? Because I didn’t. Holden tells the same joke twice that has everyone in hysterics, but it’s pretty lame the first time.
• Is Peter Finch Albert Finney’s dad? Are they related? Did Sidney Lumet’s dad have a deep, craggy voice like those two, because Finney was just in Lumet’s Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead (which also misfired for me).

Hey, it’s nearly the weekend, and we’re taking a look back to 1944, a simpler time when we were caught up in some sort of European tea party with a short mustachioed gentleman, and apparently we had a national cinematic hunger for corpses and crazy little old ladies. Hence, Arsenic And Old Lace.

The Key Players:

Frank Capra directs, the master of both the heartstrings in time-revered feel good stories like It’s A Wonderful Life, and master of American pride and nationalism in his Why We Fight series of propagandatainment. But at least he put his money where his mouth was- he enlisted in the Signal Corps in 1941 during the filming of this movie, and received a delay of his order to report to finish editing it.

Cary Grant is of course, Cary Grant- the giant name above the bill and will probably come up again before I’m done with this. Formerly known as Cary Lockwood, born Archibald Leach (what was wrong with that name? I think it has a ring to it), he loses his usual debonair charm for an antic straight-man character in a family of psychopaths.

Priscilla Lane, our second billed star, is a former sister act singer turned movie star who’s most famous for this role, but starred opposite Ronald Reagan a couple times, and in Hitchcock’s Saboteur.

Peter Lorre, most recognizable from The Maltese Falcon, has a small role as an alcoholic German plastic surgeon alongside supporting turns from John Alexander, Raymond Massey, Jean Adair, and Josephine Hull.



The Story:

The beauty of this tale, set on Halloween, is that it sets you up to expect one type of screwball comedy, but then turn the tables and deliver another.

Grant plays Mortimer Brewster, a bachelor famous for books about the foolishness and impossibility of marriage that has just gotten married (to Lane). The happy couple stops off at the old family home of his two kindly aunts, who are the gentlest, charitable souls you could ever expect to meet, who take care of Brewster’s mentally ill cousin Teddy, who believes that he’s Teddy Roosevelt.

Got all that? Now, while Lane is elsewhere, Grant starts looking for the manuscript to his latest anti-marriage book, to get rid of before his new wife sees it. He looks under the window seat, but quickly turns to look elsewhere- there was just a corpse in it.

Wait, what? So begins a hilarious series of over-the-top Grant double takes as his aunts sweetly explain that they let in lonely old men with no family, and then put a merciful end to their suffering with elderberry wine laced with Arsenic, Stricnine, and “just a pinch of cyanide.” Grant tries to immediately ship Teddy off to “Happydale” sanitarium for safekeeping while putting off what to do about his homicidally misguided aunts.

Then Grant’s long lost brother shows up (Massey), a gangster who’s had just had his face operated on by drunken sidekick Peter Lorre, who made him look like Boris Karloff by mistake- in the play this was based on, this was a self-referential gag, since Karloff played the role himself. They have a body of their own to get rid of, incidentally, and multiple corpse related hijinks ensue.

The Artisticness:

You can really tell this used to be a play, as nearly every scene is set at the old house or just outside it, except for the fake-out beginning scene where paparazzi try to expose Grant for a pretend marriage hater.

The slapstick comic timing, and in particular the rhythm of the dialogue are excellent- I’m a sucker for that old screwball stuff. I can’t be more excited for His Girl Friday and the like- I even had much more patience for recent throwback efforts like the Coen brothers’ Intolerable Cruelty and George Clooney’s Leatherheads than most people.

Personally, all I knew of Capra was the Why We Fight series, and earnest pieces like Mr. Smith Goes To Washington- I never woulda pegged the guy for a farcical black comedy.

The music is the standard orchestral swells and crashes, and Lorre in particular is great with a leering, cringing delivery. Visually I can’t saw I saw that much panache, but there is so fun work with shadows on the wall and so forth, especially when the evil brother enters the picture.

SPOILERS! HOW DOES THE ZANINESS END!

It all ends tidily, as screwball comedies often do. The brother gets arrested, the aunts and cousin Roosevelt all get committed to the sanitarium, and Grant even finds out he was adopted into the family and didn’t inherit the murder gene (apparently even great great Brewster was prone to “scalping the Indians”).

Lane, who Grant ignores and outrages while he distractedly tries to deal with the situation, actually discovers the bodies in the basement just as the whole affair looks to be tidied up- What does Grant do? Just kisses her until she forgets about. Ah, the forties! Thirteen dead men, you say- here’s a smooch.

And although there’s a dead body that drunk the poisoned wine before the events of the film began, nobody actually dies of arsenic in this film. I was kind of disappointed- is that wrong?

END SPOILERS

Overall- Should It Be Higher, Lower?

Well, damn, given the pedigree, I’dve thought it would be higher than 245. Personally, I enjoyed this movie a lot, and haven’t laughed this much at any other film made before 1950. Definitely my second favorite of the countdown so far (behind Shaun Of The Dead).

The Legacy:

Well, I’d definitely heard of this film, but clearly had no idea what is was about- poisonous doilies? It doesn’t help that the poster (Grant throwing Lane over his shoulder) makes it look like a gender comedy, and not a black comedy set on Halloween.

But it’s definitely the most revered and remember of the list so far, even though Grant cited it as one of his least favorite performances. It was remade as a 1969 ABC Movie of the week starring Bob Crane, and again in 1971 as a German TV movie, so that’s something as well.

The Best Video Of It On YouTube:

The first scene in the film is actually a completely random and inexpicable riot between the Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Yankees. Um, ok?



Elsewhere on YouTube- a clip reel set to “Bad Day” by R.E.M. (?), and some no-goodnick has actually posted the entire thing in pieces starting here, if the law doesn’t bother you.

Leftover Thoughts:

• The Roosevelt gag runs pretty thin after a while, what with the bugle playing and the constant charging up imaginary San Juan Hills, but you have to admire the commitment to the bit, I guess.
• Two changes from the play to the film: someone does drink the wine and die, but the studio wasn’t big on innocent people kicking it (you know, besides the thirteen already dead). Also, when (spoiler) Mortimer finds out he’s adopted, he yells “Elaine, did you hear! I’m a bastard!” in the play, which is softened to “I’m the son of a sea captain!” for the national audience. Really? (end spoiler)
• “When you say ‘others,’ do you mean… others?”

Coming up on the top 250 Countdown:

Monday: Network

Wednesday: Roman Holiday

Friday: A Christmas Story

On our platters for Wednesday, the 2002 Hong Kong film that Martin Scorsese’s 2006 Best Picture Winner The Departed was based on, or more aptly, lifted wholesale on the way to the podium. It remains the only foreign film that’s won a Best Picture Oscar by proxy, insofar as that’s a distinction that anyone cares about.

The Key Players:

This was co-directed by Andrew Lau and Alan Mak, and co-written by Mak and Felix Chong, who all had relative success in the Hong Kong market before breaking out with this film, which spawned a sequel and a prequel in addition to the remake.

Tony Leung, the most recognizable face (from my American perspective) plays the undercover cop posing as a thug. I remember him mainly for his angst ridden stoicism in War Kai-Wong movies like In The Mood For Love and 2046, and recently for his creepy stoicism in Ang Lee’s Lust, Caution.

Andy Lau (no relation to Andrew Lau), most famous stateside for a role in House Of Flying Daggers, plays the bad guy posing as a cop.

Anthony Wong Chau-Sang and Eric Tsang also star as the lead cop and lead villain, respectively, while actresses Kelly Chen and Sammy Cheng round out the bill as Leung’s psychiatrist and Lau’s girlfriend.

I don’t know much about those four, but from what I’ve read the six of these stars represent the most famous movie stars in all of Hong Kong, all together in the same film- hence the record-breaking box office gross in its home country. It’s even more star studded than the Departed cast, with no offense meant to Vera Farmiga.



The Story:

So there’s a crime-lord (Tsang) who hatches the idea to enroll the youngest members of his gang in the police academy to have a mole on the inside- one of whom (Lau) quickly rises near the top of the chain.

About the same time, one of those police higher-ups (Wong Chau-Sang) has the idea to expel a promising recruit from the academy (Leung) on trumped up charges, but actually have him join the local drug trade as a police mole.

Ten years later all parties involved are walking a tightrope act of text messaging, morse code signals, covert meetings and tip-offs to keep one step ahead of each. Both sides realize they’ve got a leak, and rush to find it before the other side exposes theirs.

It’s a pretty tightly written movie, with some great moments- and I can’t stress enough how many of these moments are exactly the same in The Departed (even the thing with the writing on the envelope!). Infernal Affairs is a lot lighter on character development and has less of a visual flair for the dramatic, but the tension and clever symmetry of the story is not the invention of (Oscar winning Departed screenwriter) William Monaghan.

Amidst all this chicanery, Lau is trying to reconcile the life he leads with his role as a mob informant- he enjoys his work, and has just moved into an apartment with his girlfriend. Leung meanwhile, just wants his life of danger and suspicion to finally be over. Where will it all end?

The Artisticness:

One of my favorite elements of this film that wasn’t carried over to the American version is the habit of Eastern films to speak in proverbs and aphorisms. When both sides come face to face, in a pensive moment the police chief mentions a story: two men were waiting for kidney transplants, but only one kidney was available. So they each put a playing card in the other’s pocket, and whoever guesses their own card first, wins.

The villain smiles and says “You know, I can see your card.” The retort: “I can see yours as well.”

How awesome is that? This philosophical bent does get a little heavy handed with a bit about Lau’s girlfriend writing a book- it’s about a man with multiple personalities (get it?), but she doesn’t know “whether he’s good or bad.” Eh. Most of the script is to the point, however, and the quiet relationship of Leung and his court-ordered psychiatrist (he just goes to her office and sleeps for an hour, the only place he feels safe) is nicely understated.

There’s a particular visual look to this film as well that’s more memorable that the typical action movie, all gritty parking structures and sterile blue halogen for the two different worlds we visit. And an old-school score with lots of noir-horns and marching string overtures tops the cake.

The biggest artistic decision I disliked? The English title. The Chinese title of the film translates to “the non-stop path,” which is a reference to the lowest level of hell in Buddhism where those who have committed bad deeds go to be reborn. “Infernal Affairs”? Mostly just a horrible pun.

THE ENDING! SPOILERS! (This spoils The Departed as well)

The good guy gets shot in the head! After spending nearly the entire film apart, Lau and Leung confront one another on the rooftop, but another mole ends up killing Leung. It’s a gut-check moment, and gives the film a lot more weight and thematic resonance than a prototypical happy ending would.

This is the sort of decision I would I have disliked on the face of it a while ago, before it occurred to me that movie characters don’t live beyond the credits, anyway- who cares if they die at the end of a film, as long as it’s a great moment? Although how they made a sequel with this character dead, and a prequel when they hadn’t crossed paths for the preceding ten years is beyond me.

Scorsese and co. made plenty of changes to the ending in their version, which we’ll get into in a year or so, but kept this same moment more or less as is. I knew it was coming as soon as I saw an elevator, because I’d seen this already.

END SPOILERS!


Overall- Should it be Higher, Lower?

I’m not sure- I know this is probably unfair, but seeing The Departed makes me realize how workmanlike and sparse this film is- they gloss over the initiation of both undercover agents into enemy territory, and don’t give us enough time with certain characters to really care when they get shot.

But you can’t go around holding people up to masters of cinema, and without Infernal Affairs, that other movie obviously wouldn’t exist. So I think it does deserve a place here, definitely for the originality and execution of its story.

The Legacy:

Well, clearly it’s an entire franchise over in Hong Kong, and the genesis point of an modern American classic. It also revitalized an entire country’s film industry, which by all accounts had become pretty stagnant and predicable.

It just goes to show that it’s all about story and originality, and building the proverbial better mousetrap- of course in this country we don’t really get that point until we remake the gorram thing.

The Best Video Of It On YouTube:

More Spoilers! Aaah, they're everywhere!

Apparently the Chinese Board of Censorship demanded an alternate ending be shot wherein Lau gets exposed as a traitor and arrested, immediately after the elevator standoff. The clip is below, although it has German subtitles- you still get the idea. Whatever- at least they don't pan to a shot of a rat...



End Additional Spoilers!

Leftover Thoughts:

• There’s a random scene in the middle where Leung runs into an old flame from “six or seven” years ago, who has a daughter that she tells Leung is five, and then gives him the polite brush-off because he’s a thug and all. When he’s gone her daughter’s all like “but mommy I’m six already.” Oh snap. This is never really touched upon later, not in detail anyway.
• Also the beginning of the film makes it pretty clear that Lau and Leung went to the same police academy (via some flashback actors that show up in the prequel a lot apparently)- there’s no chance they’d remember one another ten years later? It’s been ten years since I went to middle school and I remember some things pretty vividly. Actually, the trailer above refers to them as "friends," but I think that's just something that got lost in translation.
• I guess I never touched on Scorsese’s decision to shoehorn both love interests into one character, which always struck me as kinda forced. Don’t put sitcom style coincidences into my gritty crime thrillers.

Coming up on the top 250 Countdown:

Friday: Arsenic And Old Lace

Monday: Network

Wednesday: Roman Holiday