Saturday Night Classic

Maybe a weekly series thing, in which I waffle about classics that I love. I haven't done anything good on films in an age, so maybe this will relight the fire. Nothing especially earth-shattering to see here, just plain old cinephilia. Join in the oldie love.


Vivian: Do you always think you can handle people like, uh, trained seals?
Philip Marlowe: Uh-huh. I usually get away with it too.
Vivian: How nice for you

Damn they don't make 'em like this anymore
I ask, cause I'm not sure
Do anybody make real shit anymore?

Yep, those are Kanye West lyrics. I like Kanye, his aggressive self-promotion can be almost endearing in it's ferocity, but I want to utilise his words in a rather different context. That is, in respect to the era of Classic Hollywood. I'm no great subscriber to false nostalgia - I wasn't alive in the 1940s and 50s and therefore am not qualified to make assumptions about whether films were better back then. I firmly believe that the craft of film is as thriving and vital as it was in the Hollywood heyday and that classics-of-the-future are being released every year. Yet, I'm itching to mutter "Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore!" everytime I watch a film like The Big Sleep. Tonight I treated myself to a break from studying and study-related guilt by watching a two-header; Strictly Come Dancing on the BBC which has got me truly hooked this series and then Howard Hawks' 1946 classic film noir staple. Adapted from Raymond Chandler's novel by a triad of writers including William Faulkner and pairing up real life lovers Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall with auteur Hawks at the helm, The Big Sleep is a team-up to rival The Philadelphia Story. Even on my second viewing, the plot makes little sense to me, perhaps even less so than the first time I watched it. On my primary viewing I really attempted to get my head around the double crossings and murders, this time I gave up and enjoyed the sexual tension, the dialogue and the cinematography.

"How can a man so ugly be so handsome?" Marta Toren famously wondered in Sirocco, and she had a point. Bogie is not a typical Hollywood leading man, he has neither the effortless charm of Grant nor the bumbling sweetess of Stewart. He was short and gruff, with a leathery face - but his shortcomings make him. In the film, his weathered demeanour and calm delivery contain a subtle charm, his little gestures taking centre-stage over any big setpieces. I look especially fondly on the childish habit of fidgeting with his ear during moments of pondering. He's a closet romantic, and he fizzles joyously with every woman he comes across, all of whom appear to fall in love with his Marlowe. The universe of The Big Sleep is one peppered with coy women who hold their own with him, trading quips laden with innuendo, from his leading lady Bacall and her sister (in a great performance from Martha Vickers) stretching to the bookstore clerk played by Dorothy Malone and even Joy Barlow's fleeting taxi-driver. It's a world so unlike the real, drab everyday one in which we inhabit that it's tempting to imagine that this is how people actually spoke back then. The rapport between Humphrey and everybody he encounters is a delight to listen to. It's genuinely funny, "She tried to sit on my lap when I was sitting down" and the actors really sell it. The famous "horse racing" scene was reshot and added in to heighten the chemistry between the leads and it's a treat. The innuendo is ladled on so strongly that it's hard to believe they got away with it at the time, and yet Bogie and Bacall run with it, their faces masks of innocence. Seeing Bogie and Bacall verbally sparring is a sight to behold. Yet the horse-racing scene is not my favourite scene between the pair. My choice is surprisingly dialogue free. Marlowe enters a casino, looking for information. He wanders around, spying in on various gambling rooms until he espies what appears to be a sort of living room with a small gathering of people, a piano and a familiar voice. Vivian Rutledge is singing "And Her Tears Flowed Like Wine" in a bawdy, humerous way and Bogie leans against the doorframe to watch her. She slowly becomes aware that he's watching her and turns to look straight at him. Most of their time spent onscreen is spent either bickering or kissing, but here she gives him a shy smile and a small salute, all the while continuing to sing. Bogie, in turn, returns her smile and salute. It's a sweet moment, touching in it's quietness. The lovers aren't zipping off zingers, they're just enjoying each other's gaze. Bacall doesn't have a half-bad voice either.

Part of The Big Sleep's allure is that it's not a genre picture. Sure, it's film noir. Yet there's a lot more going on than a simple private detective story (okay, maybe 'simple' is the wrong word to use). It's a romantic picture, thanks to the obvious chemistry between the leads. Indeed, the plot is so convoluted it's best viewed as a romance; instead of wondering how the hell Owen Taylor died, you'd be best wondering when exactly the pair are going to get it on. It's also a succesful comedy - the sometimes heavy subject matter is given a lightness and deftness of touch by Hawks and the characters are never too put upon or endangered to engage in some jokes. Going back to my initial point about not making 'em like they used to, it is difficult to imagine what The Big Sleep would look like nowadays. There may be an actor who could match Bogart's cool, but could they rival his ugliness and beaten-down weatheredness? Would the innuendo translate to a modern setting, treading the fine line between ridiculous and dirty? I can't see any studio greenlighting a script as unpenetratable and confusing as this nowadays. Even the cinematography, sumptous black and white, creeping shadows and silhouettes, couldn't transfer to 2007.

The Big Sleep is riddled with more charm than Eddie Mars' corpse is with bullets.

Guess what I just watched...

"Rosebud..."

My week and the Oscars

First off, I would like to take this occasion to curse the internet, computers, faulty wires and my left foot. I had most of this entry all typed up when my foot dislodged the wires connecting the laptop to the mains, therefore turning off the power, thus losing everything. Excuse me while I raise my fist to the sky and lament my misfortunes…

…okay. Now, I just cannot fathom that it is already Saturday. You see, Saturday will inevitably lead onto Sunday, which will, in all probability, lead onto school. Sunday also means the Oscars, but to be honest it’s the return to school that’s making the most fuss in my head right now. Not that I can complain too much about my midterm break, it was quite enjoyable, if brief. I saw a lot of films, took up walking every day and went to the cinema. I’m going to start with the cinema trip, because I’m a sucker for that moment when the the lights dim and the music starts…

Notes on a Scandal (2006) Richard Eyre

Back in late 2006 I read the Zoe Heller novel and loved it. I thought it was gripping, well written and fresh. The characters were deftly drawn and it employed the use of unreliable narrator, that old trick that still works time and time again. And yet, when this film was released, I didn’t immediately run out to see it. I’m not sure why, just a lack of incentive.

After finally viewing it on Thursday evening in Cineworld (I love this cinema so much, I need to give it a name drop now and again), I still feel a little…underwhelmed. Notes on a Scandal: based on a magnificent novel, with a competent director and screenwriter at it’s helm, two seasoned and versatile actresses in the leads, with a score by Philip Glass. It ticks every box, and yet somehow I felt that this film was less than the sum of it’s parts.

Let me start with the score: Glass, although not my favourite contemporary composer, is a guy I like and admire. “Einstein on the Beach” is a masterpiece and his score for “The Hours” is probably my all time favourite film score. I’ve listened to that cd innumerable times, and so, it appears, has Glass. It sounds like he struggled with creating an original score and nicked from his previous work. The familiar motifs, pulsing strings, repititive piano lines increasing as the tension in the film increases; they’re all here. The music works in the context of the film, but unfortunatly the main purpose it served was to remind me of the (far superior) music in “The Hours”.

Both leads are great, Blanchett easily embodying the flighty, fey art teacher caught up in an affair with a 15 year old pupil, and Dench presiding over everything with her frightening eyes and disaproving voice-overs. A friend commented, of Dench’s preformance that it was a hard role to play badly, which is true, but I think she managed to inject enough pathos into the aged History teacher to make me both supremely terrified by her and also sorry for her. The casting of an actor of roughly the right age for Stephen Connolly was a brave move.

I’m still not entirely sure why this film didn’t completely work: the tension felt a little forced at times, or maybe it was because I enjoyed the original novel so much, but something made this film fall at the last hurdle just short of being a Great Film.

I do need to give it props for including a totally random conversation about Siouxsie and the Banshees. Yay!

Other films I’ve watched this week include The Deer Hunter, Blow Out, Taxi Driver, Casablanca, The Big Sleep, Little Miss Sunshine, The Graduate, Twin Peaks Season 1 (okay, not a film), Laura, Jezebel and Live Flesh. As I’m not arsed writing out a big post about all these films, I’ll just mention some highlights:

Christopher Walken in The Deer Hunter: I stayed up till 4am this morning watching this film, because I literally couldn’t find one moment to stop watching. Robert De Niro was always going to be great in it and Meryl Streep fleshed out her character well, but for me the standout star was Walken. Cast away any images of him dancing around a hotel to the strains of Fatboy Slim; this is a young Walken, nervy and hollow cheeked (he achieved this look by eating nothing but bananas and rice), playing his character with such sympathy and wild-eyed destructiveness that you root for him until the very end. Without giving away any spoilers, I’ll just say that how his character ends up is one of the worst (in a good way, I mean) and most emotional moments I’ve ever seen on screen. The transition from floppy-haired innocent in the first third of the film to the vacant monster he becomes is rendered even more awful by the way Christopher Walken plays it with such subtle intensity.

"La Marseillaise" in Casablanca. When I first saw the film I think I was too young to understand most of the themes and the storyline, but that scene where Victor makes the band play "La Marseillaise" moved me alot. Watching it again earlier in the week, I was in tears. It’s a beautiful, stirring scene in a movie full of memorable moments. My other favourite scene is...oh, it's a tie between when Rick is left at the train station with the note and the final scene at the airport. I also love reading all the stories about the filming of Casablanca; how the mechanics tending to the plane were all actually midgets, how Ingrid Bergman asked the writers which guy she was supposed to be in love with and they hadn't a clue so they instructed her "Just play it down the middle", the fact that "As Time Goes By" was going to be taken out in favour of an original song but was left in at the last minute, how Ronald Reagan (!) was going to play Rick...I love trivia like that. They really don’t make films like Casablanca any more, and no, The Good German doesn’t count.

The Graduate. This, for me, was the biggest surprise. I rented it from the library for no particular reason, I have no great love for Dustin Hoffman and I didn’t know too much about the film. It was a revelation, the music, cinematography and storyline combining humor and sadness in a beautiful wa. It’s a subdued film, filled with quiet moments of reflection between the funny parts and the hurtling chase of the last twenty minutes. I already want to rewatch it!

Every film (and tv series) I watched over the week had something going for it, whether it was Humphrey Bogart’s rapport with Lauren Bacall in The Big Sleep or Bette Davis’ pop-eyed fury in Jezebel.

Now, onto the Oscars tomorrow.

I’ll freely admit it, I’ve seen very few of the nominated films. For example, the Best Picture Category:

Babel
The Departed
Letters From Iwo Jima
Little Miss Sunshine
The Queen

Out of these, all I’ve seen is LMS. Which, incidentally, I enjoyed – great ensemble work, moving, humourous, some parts didn’t quite work but a sweet little film. I’m longing to see The Departed and The Queen and will be most definitely be catching them on dvd.

Anyhow, I’ll run through the main categories and pick my favourite. Disclaimer – not who I think will win, who I want to win.

Best Writing, Screenplay Based on Material Previously Produced or Published
Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan
Children Of Men
The Departed
Little Children
Notes On A Scandal

Best Writing, Screenplay Written Directly For The Screen
Babel
Letters From Iwo Jima
Little Miss Sunshine
El Labertino Del Fauno (Pan's Labyrinth)
The Queen

Best Achievement In Directing
Clint Eastwood (Letters From Iwo Jima)
Stephen Frears (The Queen)
Paul Greengrass (United 93)
Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (Babel)
Martin Scorsese (The Departed)

I do kinda think it would be hilarious if Marty lost out again, but another part of me feels sorry for the guy. Just give it to him, already!

Best Performance By An Actress In A Supporting Role
Adrianna Barraza (Babel)
Cate Blanchett (Notes On A Scandal)
Abigail Breslin (Little Miss Sunshine)
Jennifer Hudson (Dream Girls)
Rinko Kikuchi (Babel)

Best Performance By An Actor In A Supporting Role
Alan Arkin (Little Miss Sunshine)
Jackie Earle Haley (Little Children)
Djimon Hounsou (Blood Diamond)
Eddie Murphy (Dream Girls)
Mark Wahlberg (The Departed)

Best Performance By An Actress In A Leading Role
Penelope Cruz (Volver)
Judi Dench (Notes On A Scandal)
Helen Mirren (The Queen)
Meryl Streep (The Devil Pears Prada)
Kate Winslet (Little Children)

This is the category I’m most interested in, having seen three of the nominations. It’s most likely going to be a walkover for Mirren, which is not a bad thing, but I’m still hoping for Penelope Cruz. Volver got so snubbed this year at the awards and unjustly.


Best Performance By An Actor In A Leading Role
Leonardo DiCaprio (Blood Diamond)
Ryan Gosling (Half Nelson)
Peter O'Toole (Venus)
Will Smith (The Pursuit of Happyness)
Forrest Whitaker (The Last King Of Scotland)

Although Will Smith was great (and is the only performance here I’ve seen), I think they should just give O’ Toole the fricking award. He’s waited long enough.

Best Motion Picture Of The Year
Babel
The Departed
Letters From Iwo Jima
Little Miss Sunshine
The Queen

I can’t wait until I see The Queen.

Right so – it’s nearing 5pm and I’m still in my pjs. Sayonara!

January Films

Harvey
Watched this up in Sligo with the folks, who I think were a little apprehensive. Dare I say their doubt was completely unfounded? Yes, I do! Jimmy Stewart is the perfect choice for the loveable Elwood P. Dowd, an amiable gentlemen who's best friend just happens to be a six-foot tall bunny rabbit (the eponymous Harvey). Touching, genuinely funny and cute without being irritating, this is a must see.

Vertigo
Okay, I love Hitchcock as much as the next person. And I especially like it when Hitch is directing James Stewart (see: Rear Window and the criminally underrated Rope). I also like the sinister stories about how this film reflects Hitch's desire to mold every actress into his ideal of an ice-cool blonde. Unfortunately, I also liked the hilariousness of this film...which I doubt was the desired effect.

All About Eve
My all time favourite film. Written and directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz and starring Bette Davis (as an ageing actress, suitably fitting), All About Eve is not only a scathing look at Hollywood, a disturbing account of growing old and an almost Hitchcockian tale of double-crossing and identity-thievery, but it is also one of the wittiest films I have ever seen. It's the role Davis was born to play and also stars Marilyn Monroe in a small cameo. Off the top of my head, I can think of numerous fabulous quotes and snatches of dialogue. Relentless. Brilliant. Depressing. See it!

Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
Bette Davis again, this time paired up with her "arch-nemisis" Joan Crawford. I'm slightly skeptical about the whole Davis/Crawford fued story. I don't doubt they disliked each other ("Joan Crawford has slept with every male star at MGM except Lassie", Bette Davis) but I'm also fairly sure that part of their supposed hatred of each other was fabricated by the studios. The casting in this sinister, yet amusing film is inspired though, with Davis (slathered in make-up and looking fairly demented) cackling away over her crippled sister.

Kill Bill Volume I
Bright, super-stylised, violent, joyful pastiche of every film Quentin Tarantino has ever loved, ever (including some of his own). I knew that this film lacked some of QT's trademark sparky-dialogue, which I did miss. However, I settled down to enjoy blood spurting from every corner, Uma Thurman holding court in a yellow tracksuit and, my personal highlight, the amazing soundtrack (constant rotation I tell ya, constant rotation).

Guys & Dolls
It's Marlon Brando! Singing! In really bright technicolour! "Luck Be A Lady" is the stand-out song, Frank Sinatra is a little annoying and it doesn't enter the same ballpark as Singin' in the Rain or West Side Story. It's still a fun, colourful picture with some neat dialogue.

The Usual Suspects
I hate Channel Four. It was on one of their inane countdown of the top 100-whatevers that the central twist of this film was divulged to the nation....before I had seen it. Undeterred, I caught it on FilmFour earlier this month and although I enjoyed and admired it, the overall impact was slightly lessened by the fact that I already knew who Keyser Soze was! Argh. Oh, fun fact: year ago, Gabriel Byrne, one of the Suspects, used to deliver the post round where my dad lived. He had the hots for one of my aunts and used to ring the bell in the hope she'd answer. Ah, in a paralell universe, I am Gabriel Byrne's niece.

His Girl Friday
For some reason, I watched this whole film thinking the Hildy Johnson character was played by Katharine Hepbrun. Probably I was getting it confused with Bringing Up Baby. I got a bit of a shock when the end credits rolled with "Rosalind Russell". Ah, fuck it, they're both from Connecticut. Justified. I was laughing too hard to notice who the hell she was played by at any rate. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant.

Bad Education
Almodóvar does Hitchcock, while retaining his love for transvestites and the like. Out of all his films I've seen, the cinematography is probably the best so far (the football game, the swimming pool shots, the scene at the lake) and Gael Garcia Bernal makes a thoroughly convincing woman.

The Pursuit of Happyness
I've already written about this: nice turn from Smith, cute kid, uplifting message blah blah blah.

Bringing Up Baby
Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn in The Best Comedy Film. Of All Time. Ever. In The Universe. In My Opinion. Okay, but seriously, this is a total gem. Screwball, slapstick, innuendo, irony, puns and a leopard. All tied up in a crazy plot (try to explain it to somebody, sounds utterly stupid, doesn't it?) with Cary Grant having the time of his life and Katharine Hepburn falling down and into rivers and off dinosaurs and through bushes and in love. Hah!

Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down!
Almodóvar again. The earliest of his that I've watched. It's funny, sexy and a little dark. Antonio Banderas is a delight!

Mr. Smith Goes To Washington
Jimmy Stewart again. Idealistic, big-eyed senator Mr. Smith with his genuine love for America and his eager plans doesn't stand a chance in Washington. For climatic, filibuster scene, Stewart dried out his throat with bicarbonate of soda. Now THERE'S the kind of man we need taking an active part in the running of this country. Eh, that country, rather. America.


Now, Voyager
It's Bette Davis! (Yay!!) With big eyebrows and frumpy dresses! (Boo!!) Smoking like a chimney! (Duh!!) Did someone just scream "Melodrama!?" Yes, indeedy, the mother of all melodramas. The plot's slightly implausible (from slightly insane frump to slim beauty in three months?) and the continual break-downs may grate a little if you're in the wrong mood, but it's still a classic. And you can't deny the ending: the lighting of the two cigarettes, "Don't lets ask for the moon Jerry, we have the stars!" and the swelling music as the camera pans up to the moonlit sky...excuse me, I've got a little something in my eye..

Bobby
...you're going to have to excuse me for a good while, folks. By the end of this Emilio Estevez film I was a complete wreck. This nearly beats the finale of Doctor Who in the Makes-Catherine-Cry polls. This film, along
with Mr. Smith goes to Washington and The West Wing, does the difficult job of making me feel hopeless patriotic towards a country I've never been too. While some of the interlocking characters and storylines don't quite work (Ashton Kutcher's stoner treaded the fine line between dispensible and vomit-inducing), the ultimate point was poignant and well-crafted. The use of the music, especially Simon & Garfunkel, was noteworthy in the quiet manner it scored the tragedy. I swear, the next film I see in the cinema better not make me cry...

So there we have it, every film I watched from the 1st-31st of January. Pas mal, pas mal.