All Monsters Attack.

Review #2391: All Monsters Attack.

Cast: 

Tomonori Yazaki (Ichiro Miki), Kenji Sahara (Kenichi Miki), Machiko Naka (Tamiko Miki), Hideyo Amamoto (Shinpei Minami), Sachio Sakai (Sembayashi), Kazuo Suzuki (Okuda), Junichi Ito (Sanko Gabara), Hidemi Ito (Sachiko), Haruo Nakajima (Godzilla), Marchan the Dwarf (Minilla; Midori Uchiyama as the voice of Minilla), and Yasuhiko Kakuyuki (Gabara)

Directed by Ishirō Honda (#167 - Godzilla [1954/1956], #711 - Mothra, #1092 - Gorath, #1224 - King Kong vs. Godzilla, #1225 - Mothra vs. Godzilla, #1226 - Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster, #1623 - Invasion of Astro-Monster, #1999 - Matango, #2250 - Destroy All Monsters)

Review: 

"When I make a monster film, I never think that it will be for children. As a director, I’m a man who wants to imagine and express a story. But when it’s distributed to the theaters it’s always the children who are the most interested ... particularly those in the primary schools.”

You might think I am perhaps a bit generous to select films of the Godzilla franchise, at least within its early years. Ebirah, Horror of the Deep (1966) was the low point for me in the first batch of movies*, if I remember correctly. Anyway, let's deliver some context to what the hell this movie is in the first place: Destroy All Monsters (1968) was planned to be the final Godzilla film at one point in time...until it wasn't the plan. They thought of developing an animated series with Filmation and while that collapsed, the idea to do a Godzilla movie centered for the children's market with a focus on doing it fast and cheap was an obvious one for Toho to latch onto. Outlandish ideas for young audiences wasn't a new concept for Honda anyway, as evidenced by films he did such as King Kong Escapes (1967), a co-production with Rankin/Bass Productions that dealt with North Pole hideouts and guys named "Dr. Who". The movie started production...in October 1969. For release in late December 1969. Ishiro Honda directed his eighth (out of nine) Godzilla movie, one that saw the special effects scenes shot alongside the drama sequences (Eiji Tsuburaya was given credit out of respect), with each being filmed in the same (small) studio. For whatever reason, when the movie was released in America (with edits and dubs, naturally) in 1971, it was called "Godzilla's Revenge", complete with being on a double feature with Island of the Burning Damned. According to one Honda book, the film was the first of a new breed of Godzilla films that would be part of the Toho Champion Festival, which dealt with entertaining children with films (some re-edited, like King Kong vs. Godzilla) that would occur three times a year - the festival would run for nearly a decade. This was the penultimate Godzilla script that Shinichi Sekizawa did all by himself while Honda (who stated his liking of the finished film) directed two further movies in the 1970s. The next Godzilla movie would be Godzilla vs. Hedorah in 1971.

Sure, the movie can have a few neat little moments, mostly in the fact that it does have some moments that are shot well, and it does try its best to aim for its selected audience. And the acting in the film is generally about what you would hope for a goofy little movie that surely wouldn't be subject to heavy editing for audiences in distant places, suffice to say. Now let's take a hammer to the egg: it easily is the lamest film of the Godzilla movies in the 1960s. I'm not sure how low it will rank among the lesser of the films of the ever-expanding series (does one count the 1998 American abomination in rankings because of the name?), but it fundamentally is just not a consistent movie in its ambition and execution. It may have a few nice shots, but you can still see the seams in this being a fast-and-cheap rush job. It isn't so much that the movie is expressly terrible in action or in its story, it just so happens that it fundamentally doesn't have enough its foundation to make a whole film. It tries to cover an actual issue (note: latchkey kids) but just comes off as short of making it seem authentic beyond "be more assertive" that comes off as hollow, the kid just seems a bit "timid" more than really troubled. Calling it a movie for kids almost sounds like a shield for something that is packaged like a product ready to be churned and churned over than an actual experience. I wonder if one could re-imagine the film to involve a person (young or not) being so gloomy or so warped that they resort to fantasy to try and cope with their life**. Yazaki may not have become a noted name, but he did fine here for a kid actor, which mainly involves seeing a young soul that is caring and imaginative enough to make you want to root for him in his curious trails (spent in his imagination or otherwise). Amamoto is encouraging enough to make an adequate support (remember that you see more of a neighbor than the parents of the lead character, so that tracks), while the paper-thing characterization of Sakai and Suzuki is about what you expect (incidentally, there are a few folks you might recognize from prior Honda productions). There isn't anything worth going volcanic over, even when you consider that going from Godzilla having a son to having said son depicted as talking is not nearly the worst thing possible. I also think it is a bit funny to have a kid-monster talking about being told to fight one's own battles only to have a climax where the kid ends up helping the poor bastard (catapults, rocks, and stuff) anyway. You'll see a few familiar elements from older films without groaning at it being just a "Greatest Hits" collection, at least.

I particularly find the climax ludicrous, nitpicky or not. So you have a kid cornered by robbers (sure) who decides to take action and goes at one of them while it keeps cutting from the robber to Gabara. Cowardly or not, it seems strange to imagine fighting someone that has a knife by pretending they are a monster (to say nothing if it was an adult being shown imagining it). After this and getting to go home, the kid then goes and has a scuffle with that bully by slideshow presentation (get it, because showing violence by kids isn't as ideal as showing monsters doing it to each other) before the kid decides to honk the horn (get it, because it will lead to an adult getting a bit distracted and goof up in paint, get it). I guess one could replace timidness with brat-nature, but whatever. As a whole, this is a movie removed from the usual Godzilla experience that may or may not be worth a watch for its sheer, well, curious strategy for entertainment. It's not a good movie, but you at least see where one could justify spending 69 minutes maybe once.

Overall, I give it 5 out of 10 stars.

*For the purpose of just outlining every Godzilla movie of the 1960s, here's a list with a blurb: 

King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962) - Godzilla fights King Kong to a relative draw.

Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964) - Mothra joins the mash!

Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster (1964) - A monster so important it made the title

Invasion of Astro-Monster (1965) - Nick Adams in: Spaceman's Adventure

Ebirah, Horror of the Deep (1966) - Terrorists, lobsters, and more.

Son of Godzilla (1967) - A real family drama

Destroy All Monsters (1968) - Mash like it's 1999 in Monsterland

**Taxi Driver came to mind, imagine a Godzilla-Taxi Driver mashup. I may be an idiot, but at least I try to throw you a curveball.

Love Is Colder Than Death.

Review #2343: Love Is Colder Than Death.

Cast: 

Ulli Lommel (Bruno), Rainer Werner Fassbinder (Franz), Hanna Schygulla (Joanna), Katrin Schaake (Woman on train), Liz Soellner (Newspaper Saleswoman), Gisela Otto (Prostitute), Ursula Strätz (Prostitute), Monika Stadler (Waitress), Hans Hirschmüller (Peter), Les Olvides (Georges), and Peer Raben (Jürgen) Written and Directed by Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

Review: 

"I don’t find melodrama ‘unrealistic’; everyone has the desire to dramatise the things that go on around him. Plus everyone has a mass of small anxieties that he tries to get around in order to avoid questioning himself; melodrama comes hard up against them."

I have to admit that I was a bit surprised that Movie Night actually had covered a Germany-related film (German-language or otherwise) 21 times now, which actually is only behind Japan and France in world cinema. And yet, well, here we finally are with Rainer Werner Fassbinder. He was born in the wake of the surrender of Germany in World War II, being born on May 31, 1945 in a town called Bad Wörishofen, which was occupied by the U.S. Army at the time. The son of a doctor and a translator, he actually spent time at the cinema or as a juvenile delinquent. Fassbinder attended night school and studied drama to go along with taking acting lessons. He made his first short films during this time (one inspiration was Éric Rohmer's Le Signe du Lion [1962] along with plays. He didn't get to attend Berlin Film School, but he eventually joined a theater for acting, directing, and scriptwriting before becoming its leader for a number of months. In 1969 (when he was 24 years old, I might add), he became a feature film director with Love Is Colder Than Death (released in Germany as "Liebe ist kälter als der Tod"); he wrote and edited the movie to go along with being director/actor as one that "was made almost entirely without money". It got booed at a film festival in Berlin when shown but it now has actual respect nowadays. Openly bisexual and outspoken in his beliefs, Fassbinder would direct a handful of films (over twenty) and TV productions with varying phases (ones influenced by the "Novelle Vague" or Douglas Sirk, for example) while also working in the theater (with a certain type of familiar people to him) all the way to his last movie with Querelle (1982), which was released months prior to his death due to an overdose at the age of 37.

Admittedly, it is the kind of movie one watches on the same type of night as say, Breathless [1960] (interestingly, Fassbinder dedicated the movie to filmmakers such as Claude Chabrol, Éric Rohmer, Jean-Marie Straub). Calling it a "nouvelle vague influence" isn't to the movie's detriment, one will say. Basically, you get a stripped-down gangster movie that is oddly stylized in its coldness that, well, will satisfy somebody enough for 88 minutes. One basically is encountering a place that draws people out in the barest of ways that lingers on these people that cannot escape their fates or who they really are despite everything to the contrary. Fassbinder evidently was quoted as one saying that life wasn't manageable and accessible "until the moment when death is accepted as the true aspect of existence". Wrapped in a theatricality that dwells on the off-putting ways we try to live around ourselves. People use and get used for a variety of things and simply believe that the ride will go as long as possible and this film basically has one question their most private feelings inside. Love triangles and would-be heists go by the wayside to the great inevitable, no matter if one lashes out or not at the world. You've got Fassbinder and his steely nature that can only look at the person around him, as played to a certain type of deferred nature by Schygulla (as one does when doing a pimp-prostitute dynamic where one hits a guy when confronted with, well...). Lommel makes a curious interloper, one who tries to play the game of betrayal better than the others that can only result in, well, a certain type of "human" decision. Basically, you get a curiously type of winded-up toy in clear-headed photography that encloses grimy people that think they can play people and things (notice how the movie plays off using a gun). The ending is more of a pause for the inevitable, right down to the last line that might as well describe each of the lead characters in the long run. It may be a downer type of movie for certain folks, but there is clear interest and talent around the camera for reaching the audience in curiosity for a certain type of individual that has their desires wrapped up in a ball they can only hope to not crash unto the surface.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Italian Job (1969)

Review #2221: The Italian Job (1969)

Cast: 
Michael Caine (Charlie Croker), Noël Coward (Mr. Bridger), Benny Hill (Professor Simon Peach), Raf Vallone (Altabani), Tony Beckley (Camp Freddie), Rossano Brazzi (Roger Beckerman), Maggie Blye (Lorna), Irene Handl (Miss Peach), John Le Mesurier (the Prison Governor), Fred Emney (Birkinshaw), and John Clive (Garage manager) Directed by Peter Collinson (#608 - Tomorrow Never Comes)

Review: 

There are plenty of summer movies that could be chosen to roll with the long hot days or just as warm nights, but it probably stands to reason that The Italian Job is a good choice to kick things off on its good side. The original idea was thought of by Ian Kennedy Martin (a writer generally known for his British television work) as a TV drama idea involving a robbery in a traffic jam in London. It didn't go anywhere, but his brother Troy (also noted for his TV work, such as Z-Cars) bought the idea and wanted to make a movie set in Italy, completely with Michael Caine envisioned as the lead. And so, he made his spec script that eventually got the attention of Paramount Pictures and to the attention of producer Michael Deeley. He made a suggestion for a bit lighter film in terms of a caper (in his memoirs, he described the first draft as a bit complicated in political emphasis). Paramount chose Peter Collinson to direct the film, which would come out after The Long Day's Dying (released in 1968 that had Deeley as producer, as he wanted to see how Collinson would handle a film production); he would be a steady director in the following decade before his untimely death in 1980 at the age of 44. It was Deeley who came up with the iconic ending of the film, which he conceived as a solution to the fact that the endings that Martin tried to come up to conclude the film because in his words, the endings thought of all seemed to fall under "Irving the Explainer", where dialogue ends up being the thing for the filmmaker to depend on to get out of a problem (as opposed to visual explanation); he also thought of the idea because, well, he had ideas of possibly doing a sequel. Shot mostly in Turin, Italy with a hodgepodge of cars and stunts, the film was a success in its native England (but not so much in America) that has achieved a fame not always seen by caper films, even inspiring a charity fundraising event that sees plenty of Minis driving around the United Kingdom and Italy. A remake (of sorts) was released in 2003.

It really is just one of those films that invites delight and wonder even if you've seen a good deal of these caper and chase films. It is a pretty efficient 99-minute film that delights itself as firmly British and yet firmly amusing to those who encounter it. It indulges the pleasures of building up a caper that lives well on the great charm that arises in bringing together Caine at the pinnacle of his 1960s sharpness alongside a few neat cars and locations. Caine always seemed to know just the right moment for timing and charm, whether that involves plans or in casual dialogue that goes to show one can make anything sound cool, I suppose. This was the last film appearance of Coward (famed playwright and president of the orphanage that Collinson had spent most of his childhood in), who had been suffering from arteriosclerosis prior to his subsequent death in 1973. It may not be a plentiful part (they had him for just a few days), but he has the dignity to keep the role from waffling into nothingness. He just has the look and aura to sound on point when it comes to using the time wisely for esteemed lords of the manor (whether jail or otherwise). There are a few names known for those familiar with television of the time (as stated by its producer), and it only makes sense that Hill was there in his ragged weirdness. Car commercial or not, it does make the Mini look like its own character when it comes to handling the action (amusingly, there was a shot scene that had a part of the car chase occur while an orchestra played "The Blue Danube" but it was deleted). The music score by Quincy Jones (such as say, "The Self Preservation Society song, as sung by the cast or the intro song as sung by Matt Monro) only adds to the comfortable nature of the film when it comes to general mood. It builds its setup and execution with worthwhile timing that has a nice balance of humor (that one line about doors is the easy one to go with), but undeniably it is the climax that makes me appreciate how it all goes together: it really is just better to have the film dangle right on the Alps. As a whole, it is pretty neat in engaging a clear caper with winning charm and commitment to make for a pretty good time. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Diamond Arm.

Review #2071: The Diamond Arm.

Cast: 

Yuri Nikulin (Semyon Semyonovich Gorbunkov), Nina Grebeshkova (Nadia), Andrei Mironov (Gennadiy Kozodoyev), Anatoli Papanov (Lyolik), Nonna Mordyukova (Varvara Pliushch), Svetlana Svetlichnaya (Anna Sergeyevna), Stanislav Chekan (Mikhail Ivanovich, Captain), and Vladimir Gulyaev (Volodya) Directed by Leonid Gaidai.

Review: 

Sure, it may seem a bit odd to pick another notable film from a country in terms of audience appeal, but, well, there hasn't been a single Soviet film covered here that was a comedy, so I figured now is a good time to start. The director of this film in Leonid Gaidai was once called the "King of Soviet comedy", which came after numerous successes in a lengthy career. Gaidai was born in Svobodny in the Soviet Union, for whom he served in the Red Army when war broke out among the Eastern Front. He studied and acted in the theater before studying at the Moscow Institute of Cinematography. He worked on a couple of films as an assistant before co-directing his first feature with A Weary Road (1956), which was the first of only two dramas he did. A number of years passed (which included a drastically cut second film in A Groom from the Other World in 1958) before he drew praise with his short films such as Dog Barbos and Unusual Cross (1961), which featured Georgy Vitsin, Yuri Nikulin, and Yevgeny Morgunov as a comedy trio. They would be featured together in features such as Operation Y and Shurik's Other Adventures (1965) and Kidnapping, Caucasian Style (1967). He would direct films besides having said trio with features such as The Twelve Chairs (1971) and It Can't Be! (1975), both serving as literary adaptations. While he would keep busy in filmmaking until his death in 1993 at the age of 70, it is perhaps The Diamond Arm that represents him at his peak. With nearly 80 million tickets sold in its time, it was the most-attended comedy in Soviet Union history. There are three writers credited here with Leonid Gaidai, Yakov Kostyukovsky, and Moris Slobodskoy.

I'm sure you are familiar with the comedy structure that comes with being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The title is quite literal here, as it involves a man trapped with having a bunch of diamonds in a cast on his arm that will either serve as a trap for tricking criminals or be re-acquired by the bumblers who failed to account for the wrong man hitting the signal to smuggle. The 100-minute runtime does prove fruitful for a bounty of jokes, which come together particularly well after a gradual progression for its initial setup involving Turkey. Nikulin actually was an accomplished clown to go along with being an actor in comedies (with a few exceptions), which seems quite apparent with him fully in control of the film in boundless timing. He plays the hapless man in the middle to a level that goes along with such silly circumstances and dialogue. The odd circumstances that arise from his predicament invite such amusing moments for him to play with such dutiful interest. There are a handful of moments that could be noted when it comes to failed attempts to fray him, but the most interesting might be him stumbling onto a stage to sing while a would-be conspirator (played by Mironov to useful effect) is just around the same level of drunkenness trying to cajole him away. The other members of the cast serve their duty pretty well in circumstantial amusement, whether that involves femme fatales such as Svetlichnaya or useful authority in Chekan. There are also a handful of songs present within the humor, which are aptly titled "The Island of Bad Luck", "The Song About Hares", and "Help Me" (the middle one is used for the aforementioned drunk scene). The best gag might be the one right near the end, one that involves building up the most possible tension to diffuse for one quality moment of distraction. In general, it takes a bit of time to get going, but when it does start its roll as a comedy of circumstances, it does prove quite entertaining, one that shows the virtue of good timing and actors of any place that makes for an easy recommendation.

Overall, I gave it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next up: Finland, you are next.

Ittefaq (1969).

Review #2068: Ittefaq.

Cast: 

Rajesh Khanna (Dilip Roy), Nanda (Rekha), Bindu (Renu), Sujit Kumar (Inspector Diwan), Madan Puri (Public Prosecutor Khanna), Gajanan Jagirdar (Dr. Trivedi), Iftekhar (Inspector Karwe), Jagdish Raj (Inspector Khan), Shammi (Basanti), and Alka (Sushma Roy) Directed by Yash Chopra.

Review: 

Admittedly, the scope of Indian cinema is vast, but some features take time to get around to, particularly since my understanding of the country in film or about Bollywood isn't exactly vast (there is exactly one example of Indian cinema on Movie Night, and it was Nayak). For one, I didn't really know that the term of "Bollywood" is a popular one to refer to Hindi cinema (of course, it all refers to a capital city formerly known as Bombay), which takes up a good chunk of Indian cinema alongside other regions of the nation such as Tamil or Telugu (which have their own "-wood" nicknames). All of this is window-dressing for the real interest at hand in saying that sometimes it is a family affair when it comes to making films. Yash Chopra (born and raised in British India) started his career as an assistant director to both his brother B.R. Chopra and I. S. Johar before he became a director in 1959 (Dhool Ka Phool was produced by his brother while his other brother Dharam shot the film). He made his mark in the Bollywood drama with films such as Waqt (1965), which was the biggest hit of its year. He continued to direct all the way into the 2010s before his death in 2012 at the age of 80. Apparently, the inspiration of the film is two-fold: it is based on both a Gujarati play called Dhummas and an American film called Signpost to Murder (1965). The film was shot in just under a month, which was due to the fact that production on his film Aadmi aur Insaan had to have been paused when a lead actor broke their leg. A remake of Ittefaq was done under the same name in 2017, with direction by Abhay Chopra, the grandson of B.R. Chopra. 

On a dark and stormy night is a thriller about a man on the run trying to bring out his innocence as a man of coincidence (okay, that last line is actually inspired by the English translation of this title). The film is relatively fine, although one might be forgiven for asking about it being a landmark "Bollywood" film when it comes to not being a musical. I think there are a few elements that do work out well in tension, but its attempt at basically being a double mystery winds up making a ham-handed result rather than something with more bite to it. I actually kind of like the idea of a berserk leading actor, one who you might not be able to trust in their word when it comes to finding bodies or proving innocence. Khanna actually is known as the first superstar of Bollywood, which included a number of successful of films in such a short time, with a popularized streak of successful films with him as star, and this is labeled among there. He dominates the film among all else for a worthy benefit that involves plenty of snappy energy that clearly keeps you guessing in just what seems real and what isn't there. Nanda is the other side of the equation in coincidences and fear that works to an extent when it comes to vulnerability. The rest do fine in relative procedural aspects. Honestly, I thought the climax was supposed to be taken like a joke, because it actually ties everything up in the strangest of bows and melodrama rather than a spiffy thriller. At a certain point, you can only take so much with a grain of salt when it comes to overnight coincidences, especially when it comes to the gradual pacing of an investigation. As a whole, the folks who are familiar with Hindi cinema and world cinema in general will likely find something quite compelling here with this film and select scenes that show useful tension and presences that surely made Hindi cinema proud enough.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next up: At last, the Dutch.

Z (1969).

Review #1966: Z.

Cast: 

Yves Montand (The Deputy), Irene Papas (Hélène), Jean-Louis Trintignant (The Examining Magistrate), François Périer (Public prosecutor), Jacques Perrin (Photojournalist), Charles Denner (Manuel), Pierre Dux (The General), Georges Géret (Nick), Bernard Fresson (Matt), Marcel Bozzuffi (Vago), Julien Guiomar (The Colonel), Magali Noël (Nick's Sister), and Renato Salvatori (Yago) Directed by Costa-Gavras.

Review: 

"Politics. They always want to talk to me about politics. But for me politics is everyday life, the way we deal with other people and the way they deal with us. In a certain way, I can say all movies are political. But there's another thing about politics—power. A director has power over other people. And above me, there are people who have power over me. Politics is how we use that power, to be kind or aggressive, and how other people do the same with us."

There are various directors of political and social quality to note, with Costa-Gavras being a key force in that aspect for world cinema. He was born Konstantinos Gavras in 1933 in Loutra Iraias, Arcadia, Greece. His father served in the Greek Resistance against the Nazis in World War II, but his backing of the Communists within the National Liberation Front later caused his son to not be allowed to study in Greek universities when civil war in the country broke out. As such, Costa-Gavras moved to France after turning 18. He studied literature at the University of Paris and was planning to study law before deciding to study film at Institut des hautes études cinématographiques (IDHEC) in 1956. He soon served as an assistant director for people such as Rene Clair (who he cited as saying that everything for a director happens in the editing room) or René Clément (who he cited as teaching him the biggest lesson in technique) during this time. The Sleeping Car Murders (1965) was the debut feature film for Costa-Gavras, which was a mystery film. It was followed by Shock Troops (1967), an action-drama movie about French resistance fighters. Z (1969) was his breakthrough film. Overall, he has directed numerous movies in a career that has spanned a half-century, primarily spending his time directing French productions (with a few English exceptions and his one Greek production in 2019), such as Missing, released in 1982 that adapted a book covering the disappearance of American journalist Charles Horman in the 1973 Chilean coup d'état, or with Music Box, released in 1989 about war crime charges, and others such as Amen., released in 2002 that talked about the relationship of the Vatican and Nazi Germany in World War II. On May 22, 1963, anti-war activist and Greek politican Grigoris Lambrakis was struck by two far-right extremists driving in a three-wheeled vehicle after having done a public speech. He died five days later, sparking a wide demonstration and investigation, headed by investigator Christos Sartzetakis. The investigation saw plenty of connections revealed of the police and army to extremists, but the murderers got off due to the favoring of the state. As such, the movie is based on the 1967 novel of the same name (based on the first letter of the Greek word Zi, meaning "he lives!") by Vassilis Vassilikos that detailed the events that followed the death of Lambrakis. Sartzetakis was a Greek writer and journalist who had been sent into exile from his native Greece following the coup of 1967, which saw the military junta take over the country. The screenplay was written by Jorge Semprún and Costa-Gavras. The film was shot mostly in Algeria while being shot mostly in the French language with a bit of Russian and English involved without identifying the country of setting, complete with a disclaimer that says the resemblances between the movie and actual events are entirely on purpose with no coincidences.

It is evident to note the influence the film had on many filmmakers: Oliver Stone mentions the film often as an influence on his filmmaking. Steven Soderbergh wanted Traffic (2000) to capture "that great feeling of things that are caught, instead of staged, which is what we were after." William Friedkin figured out how to shoot The French Connection (1971) by watching this film, which he felt was shot like a documentary. Simply put, it clearly had an effective power on those who watched the film. This is the kind of movie that introduces you to people high in power that want equate their political opponents as "mildew of the mind". It is a political thriller that grips your imagination and never lets go for 127 minutes, finding plenty to say about just how far justice can lead when power lurks beneath the surface. Whether one goes into the movie knowing anything about European politics or not, the important thing to remember is to go into things with a clear head. Greece would not have democracy until 1974, but it doesn't diminish the overall importance of a movie that is essentially a primal scream for sanity, one where its ending will stay with you for quite some time. Life may be followed by death, but that doesn't mean that law is necessarily followed by order. There is no one actor that dominates the film in terms of screentime, but Montand obviously makes the key impression needed as a pillar of would-be hope, which proves tactful in setting up a moment of history (as one might put it) that has human vitality. Papas is the only Greek actor in the cast, but her expression in the face of despondency is all one needs. Trintignant sears through with inquisitive definition that is probably the most clinical charming role of the film, or at least right next to Perrin and his restless energy that pops in now and then. Again, the movie isn't really about one defining performance but instead an organic mix of actors that are each distinct in their own little roles and requirements, such as the adversarial Dux or the hired guns in Bozzuffi and Salvatori that seem completely convincing to what is needed. Costa-Gavras and his crew, such as cinematographer Raoul Coutard and his editor Françoise Bonnot managed to create a great thriller that never seems crafted in artifice or pretentiousness, always having a grip on one's attention wherever it goes in the chase for facts and some sort of reason in a possibly reasonless world. The movie speaks truth to power in the inevitability that comes with unchecked ideology. Its cry for vision that does not vanish regardless of who dies for it makes it one for the ages in enduring passion, one with a bitter ending perfect for the moment that does not erase it as worthwhile entertainment for information. Costa-Gavras crafted a worthy political feature with plenty of interest to spark for all curious in terms of history and beyond that makes for quality truth in film with great execution.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

I hope you folks enjoyed the second edition of New Directors Month in January. I hope you enjoyed the attempt at trying to include as many American and world cinema movies as possible, which saw countries like Iran, North Korea, and Algeria be featured for the first time. There were a handful of finalists in films & new directors in the 18-review month that missed the cut, some of which were the following: Goin' to Town [Alexander Hall], New Women [Cai Chusheng], Berlin: Symphony of a Metropolis [Walter Ruttmann], I Am Cuba [Mikhail Kalatozov], Possessor [Brandon Cronenberg], and Don Jon [Joseph Gordon-Levitt]. There may yet be a place to spotlight these films this year or whenever it seems appropriate. As always, suggestions are welcome.

Now, onto Black History Month.

Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.

Review #1961: Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.

Cast: 

Natalie Wood (Carol Sanders), Robert Culp (Bob Sanders), Elliott Gould (Ted Henderson), Dyan Cannon (Alice Henderson), Horst Ebersberg (Horst), Lee Bergere (Emilio), Donald F. Muhich (Psychiatrist), Noble Lee Holderread Jr. (Sean Sanders), K. T. Stevens (Phyllis), and Celeste Yarnall (Susan) Directed by Paul Mazursky.

Review: 

"You start out thinking there are rules, but as life goes on you find out it doesn't work that way."

Oh sure, Paul Mazursky was a director of social movies, but how many people made their debut in film that was a director's debut film? The Brooklyn native was the son of a piano player (who often took him to the movie theater) and a laborer; interested in acting from a young age, he graduated from Brooklyn College. Right before graduating, he mounted a production of a play, and it stoked the interest of a writer who was getting a script of his filmed; Mazursky as introduced to Stanley Kubrick for what became Fear and Desire (1952). The film wasn't a huge hit, so he waited tables alongside serving as a uniformed messenger for a delivery service for a time, and he also did his own nightclub act in the mid 1950s. He would dabble in a variety of supporting roles over the years in film and television, with his first writing job being for The Danny Kaye Show in 1963, where he reconnected with Larry Tucker. Tucker and Mazursky would write on the show for four years. They did their first script together for an idea that Bob Rafelson and Bert Schneider had about a fictional rock-and-roll group; the resulting pilot became The Monkees, the only script that the two worked on in the resulting series run. In 1968, they wrote their first film script with I Love You, Alice B. Toklas (1968). He made his debut feature as a filmmaker with Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice (1969). In addition to directing, Mazursky wrote this film with Larry Tucker (who served as producer). He would direct a variety of features over the next two decades, such as Harry and Tonto (1974; the only one of his films to win an Academy Award, which went to Art Carney for acting), An Unmarried Woman (1978), Down and Out in Beverly Hills (1986), and Enemies, A Love Story (1989). Mazursky stated his technique as one with plenty of preparation, from rehearsing with the actors for weeks to planning out shots before filming would start. A five-time Academy Award nominee, Mazursky died at the age of 84 in 2014. For this film, Mazursky was inspired by an article he read in Time magazine about Fritz Perls, a "gestalt therapist" that was described as being in a hot tub with naked people at a place called the Esalen Institute (located in the Slates Hot Springs in Big Sur, California), a place formed in 1962 dealing with New Age therapy. Mazursky was interested in seeing what the fuss was about and he went up there with his wife. The result of being the only couple at a place like that resulted in a flurry of script pages, and Mazursky later went to Tucker to collaborate on finishing the script. The film was a general success with audiences and for its crew, obviously.

How many movies were there that said one word about infidelity or even the idea of swapping wives at the time? When it comes to interpersonal relationships in society, it shouldn't be surprising that a movie like this came around as a comedy-drama. I do recall that I once knew people that were associates of people that I used to call good friends that participated in an open marriage for a brief time (because obviously you have to tell someone this rather than keep it hidden). Since I was a college student, it amused me (I am probably the type who takes bitter amusement at things), particularly in an era where phones communicate information far faster than in 1969. There was supposed to be a point to the previous sentences, but I sure as hell can't tell you what it means, aside from the fact that certain things seem far funnier when they aren't happening to you, as if making fun of annoying people is enjoyable (therapy or no therapy). In short: the times may change, but certain habits in romance do not, no matter how one tries to pass off insecurity as members of the revolution, with full honesty and emotional openness seem more like brand names than the vanguard for sexual liberation, where the adults seem more like they want to be kids. The movie is more of a well-shot curiosity rather than a fully endearing classic, but it still is generally involving enough to make its pursuit of human interest feel real. He aspired to make an atmosphere of familiarity among his actors that would make it so the actor knows the can't make a mistake, one where his style is all about making people think things are improvised, although the psychotherapy scene (involving Muhich, Mazursky's real-life psychoanalyst) was slightly improvised. On the one side of the quartet, you have the freshly born couple of "new honesty" that play deep into irony when freely talking about love affairs in Culp and Wood. Culp (fresh off the end of I Spy) is probably the most interesting to me of the four, in that he seems the most pathetic in his earnestness of new-found feeling, captured greatly in a scene where he talks with a guy who was having fun under the covers with his wife. If the 1970s would end up being called the "me decade", Culp and his mannerisms in reacting to the dawn of a time where one remodels oneself is destined for strange things galore. Wood had basically gone into semi-retirement by the time of this film, and she would appear as a main actor in four films over the next decade-and-a-half. Her vulnerability in the face of "found freedom of the sexes" is quite striking in how well she does in how rich in irony it all is. She may be enthusiastic about trying to push ahead in openness, but you still see the real person inside when it comes to seeing the cracks in trying to play enlightenment all the way through. On the other side of the quartet is a square couple in Gould and Cannon (both who rose to prominence with this film after years of Broadway and television, respectively), brittle and uptight as could be expected from people that are as effective in the teetering side of matrimony, which is probably best represented by a long ten-minute sequence between the two that sees a whole argument scrub itself in resolute realness. They are all insecure, it just so happens some of them look different when presented as fully honest or emotionally open. You generally can see at least one of these people as someone you might know, whether that involves hypocrites practicing marriage or stiff spirits. It does so without playing to some sort of moral high ground, as the director clearly likes these people enough on a level to play fair and let the audience make their own ideas. The ending is ideal in its messy resolutions that basically have the characters in a circle with one idea of what they didn't want on the pursuit of what they believe they want as people with lovers (some folks thought at the time that it was a cop-out ending, but come on now, I've seen bigger cop outs). As a whole, this is the kind of movie that moves to its own beat in portraying the human element in most of the messy qualities that come with attempts at trying to fix one's marriage or grow in emotional honesty, which results in a useful feature of its time. It isn't quite great, but it is a suitable messy movie of messy people from 1969 worth checking out as the first venture from Paul Mazursky.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next up, an old movie on the ledger since 2019.

Gheisar.

Review #1950: Gheisar.

Cast: 

Behrouz Vossoughi (Gheisar), Pouri Banai (Azam), Naser Malek Motiei (Farman), Jamshid Mashayekhi (Gheysar's uncle), Mir Mohammad Tajaddod (Azam's brother), Bahman Mofid (Mayek), Iran Daftari (Gheysar's mother), Jalal Pishvaian (Mansour Ab-mangol), and Gholam-Reza Sarkoob (Rahim Ab-mangol) Written and Directed by Massoud Kimiai.

Review:

“The truth is that no conscious, pre-planned movement would ever work in cinema — some spontaneity is always needed. But it is true that I couldn’t see myself as a part of the Iranian cinema of that period. Things were ready for me.”

It is interesting to note how many countries have had their own "New Wave". It probably helps to cover as many films as one could hope to do for films all around the world. So here we are. Two early films to set the stage of the wave were The House is Black (1962) - a documentary about a leper colony with poetry, and Brick and Mirror (1964) - considered the first masterpiece of the modern era for Iranian cinema. However, it is 1969 with films such as Dariush Mehrjui's The Cow and this one that are considered the first films of the new wave. The New Wave counteracted the popularity of the "Filmfarsi" (also referred to as Persian Film), which were cheaply-made Iranian films with little dimension in their archtype.There have been argument over the amount of phases taken in the new wave, which has to take account for the Iranian Revolution in 1979 (incidentally, it was a fire at a cinema the previous year that saw hundreds die by arson that served as a trigger for the revolution). As such, we start with Masoud Kimiai, born in Tehran. He started work in film as an assistant director in the mid 1960s before his first film with Come Stranger (1968). Kimiai has made features in Iran for over five decades. Sadegh Khalkhali, an infamous "hanging judge", once stated after the Revolution that if all cinemas were closed, then the film should not be shown. Thankfully, if one looks for it in the right spot, you can see the film on the Internet.

When converted from Persian to English, the title translates to Caeser. However, there are three titles the film is generally known by: Qaiser, Qeysar, and Gheisar. At its heart, it is a movie about taking rebellion into one's own hands. It serves as a vengeance movie that looks into both the past and the present that seems like poetry - or whatever you want to call a film that isn't just an excuse to see revenge by knife. The key deaths happen in various locations, such as a public bath, a slaughterhouse, and a railway, and the revenge that occurs happens at a high price to the circle around the pursuer of revenge. Is the revenge a matter of family honor or for pride? The fact that the film moves at a carefree pace (100 minutes) to allow for one to discuss it makes it a quality feature worth looking into further. Morality and tradition are the main points to focus on with this film, right from the opening that shows illustrations of legends from long ago (tattooed on one's body). Vossoughi became a notable name within cinema for this film, which makes sense given how effective he is in within a brooding anti-hero role that strikes at the heart of conformity and, well, violence. He conveys the terrible dilemma that eats at one's soul (action over non-action) with convincing pathos that makes us consider just how much of his road of despair is one that we should follow along willingly. Given that Pishvaian and the other adversaries to this path of family revenge aren't exactly as prominently featured as he is, consider it a fruitful lesson to think about. Mashayekhi provides withered tragedy as the standing force of tradition that can only help but watch tragedy unfold around him. As a whole, it is paced quite well within the bounds of trying to present a new vision of Iranian perspective involving society and tradition, and the legacy of the film is one of solemn conviction that endures strongly after five decades.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

In the history of Movie Night, there have been exactly two reviews of movies made by countries of the Middle East: Dünyayı Kurtaran Adam (Turkey) and Cairo Station (Egypt). It was definitely time to cover a film from Iran, which means that the three most populated countries of the Middle East have at least one spotlighted film, and Persian finally joins the ranks of languages heard on Movie Night. I will say that any review of a film from, say, Israel, would only occur if I found a film from the State of Palestine, because, well, it seems like the most fitting rule. We shall see what could be next from the Middle East. At any rate, our next film is Bugsy Malone.

The Learning Tree.

Review #1800: The Learning Tree.

Cast: 

Kyle Johnson (Newt Winger), Alex Clarke (Marcus Savage), Estelle Evans (Sarah Winger), Mira Waters (Arcella Jefferson), George Mitchell (Jake Kiner), Richard Ward (Booker Savage), Malcolm Atterbury (Silas Newhall), Russell Thorson (Judge Cavanaugh), Zooey Hall (Chauncey Cavanaugh), Dana Elcar (Sheriff Kirky), Felix Nelson (Jack Winger), and Joel Fluellen (Uncle Rob) Written, Producted, and Directed by Gordon Parks (#610 - Shaft (1971) and #1045 - Shaft's Big Score!)

Review: 

It should only makes sense that the summer of '69 would see the first studio film to be directed, written, produced, and composed by an African American director, one released by Warner Bros.-Seven Arts (as the company was known from 1967-69) with Gordon Parks being the key man for the job, and he would hire as many black technicians as he could to do the film (as opposed to utilizing all-white unions in Hollywood) in a decision supported by the studio. It is an adaptation of his 1963 novel of the same name, one that was loosely based on his upbringing in Fort Scott, Kansas (the son of a farmer, one of a group of African Americans that migrated to Kansas that is referred to as the "Exodusters"). Elements of the novel/his life are present here, such as the fact that one of his high school teachers told him that going to college would be a waste of money (he was the youngest of fifteen children, incidentally). Parks was born in 1912, and he had to fend for survival after he moved to Minnesota shortly after his mother's death at the age of fourteen, which led him to work in various positions such as piano player, singer and bus boy. It was at the age of 25 that he became interested in his first career: photography. He would work in a variety of positions from freelance work to fashion to work with the government (such as the Farm Security Administration and the Office of War Information). Consider that Parks did not become a film director until he was nearly sixty years old. In the course of his life, he would be noted as a pioneer for black filmmakers (one who made five feature films from 1969 to 1976) alongside his other talents in photography and music before his death in 2006 at the age of 93.

Within its coming-of-age story is a tender experience that manages to tell a worthwhile story without falling prey to turning into sentimental goo; it wasn't the first black film based on one's personal experience (The Homesteader (1919) is one example, although Oscar Micheaux's film is lost), but it certainly has a key place when it came to the next phase of American cinema in regards to black filmmaking when talking about facing harsh realities and developing self-determination (which would be done over and over again in later years with other memoir films). As one might expect, this film was shot in his home state of Kansas, with principal location shooting being done around his own hometown; of course, Warner Bros.-Seven Arts did send studio folks out to check on the production from time to time to keep things on track, and there was lingering friction between some of his contemporaries in the town and Parks before it was shot in 1968. As the lead actor Johnson (the son of Nichelle Nichols) had been acting for nine years before he was cast in this film, which would be his first main starring role as a seventeen-year-old actor, and Parks had him undergo four screen tests that actually gauged the abilities of the other actors as opposed to him (as it would turn out, this ended up being the role he is best known for). He works quite well here, as we see him carry a story of learning with an earthy charm that keeps the film working through its episodic pace with no bumps in the road. Clarke (also in a key role that he is remembered for more than anything) makes a fair adversary, one who represents the other side of the coin in terms of differing points when it comes to growing up as a black man facing the realities of the time (Kansas in the 1920s) that makes the inevitable confrontation all the more interesting. Evans, Nelson, and Ward all represent distinct parental figures to the characters in worthy effectiveness. The film manages to roll with a story of hard learning with bittersweet effectiveness that works to viewers familiar with stories that had been told for decades prior (this time with a black voice) without falling prey to corny cliches. As such, it manages to hold up well after five decades as both a worthy debut for Parks and a worthy piece of African American cinema that should be seen at least once.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Come Back, Charleston Blue.

Putney Swope.

Review #1793: Putney Swope.

Cast: 

Arnold Johnson (Putney Swope; dubbed by Robert Downey Sr), Stan Gottlieb (Nathan), Allen Garfield (Elias, Jr), Archie Russell (Joker), Ramon Gordon (Bissinger), Bert Lawrence (Hawker), Joe Madden (Mr. Syllables), David Kirk (Elias, Sr), Don George (Mr. Cards), Buddy Butler (Putney's Bodyguard), Vincent Hamill (Man in White Suit), Tom Odachi (Wing Soney), Ching Yeh (Wing Soney, Jr.), Joe Fields (Pittburgh Willie), Norman Schreiber (Messenger), Robert Staats (Mr. War Toys), Alan Abel (Mr. Lucky) Directed by Robert Downey Sr.

Review: 

"To see how people forty years later...I think the film doesn't hold up, you know, to me, it's like, okay. But I'm pleased that people, especially young people tell me their parents made them watch it as little kids...It's the only film of mine that ever really got distribution."

You have to understand that some movies don't just pop into popularity without warning. Sometimes they just happen to hit the sweet-spot of its culture and time, regardless if they were made in the underground or in the "mainstream". It should only figure that the year that brought shocking films like The Wild Bunch and Easy Rider would bring forth a scattershot look upon the advertising industry with eyes that perhaps strike relevancy fifty years since its release. While it is the most well-known feature directed by Robert Downey Sr, he managed to cultivate a fascinating career of filmmaking that persevered far more than just being a one-hit wonder. The New York City native served in the United States Army, serving most of his time in the stockade. It was during this time where he was inspired to take up writing (as suggested by his boss in order to pass the time). He also spent time in dabbling in boxing and playwrighting. In the 1960s, he started making independent films that aligned with the Absurdist movement (of course, this was the time when the counterculture of anti-establishment was bearing fruit), which he described as having fun more than a regular job. From 1961 to 2005, he directed (and sometimes wrote) a selection of features and documentaries that had various perspectives without as much distribution as this film. Pound (1970), for example, deals with animals waiting to be euthanized...played by human actors (it also featured Downey's five-year old son Robert Jr in his first role, and he would appear in a handful of Downey Sr's features); Downey Sr would prove an influence to directors such as Jim Jarmusch and Paul Thomas Anderson.

Before he made this film, he had been hired to do commercials (experimental commercials that would try to provoke ad agencies to do stuff like that, which he did for a year), and it was a moment where he asked his boss why he was being paid more than a black colleague for the same work that inspired the film (this is present in the film, of course). The thing about the movie is this: it received attention because it caught the eye of a theater chain owner & distributor (Don Rugoff) that liked it enough to help get it seen in theaters despite the fact he didn't understand it; a notable promotional campaign (complete with a poster giving the finger) also helped; the film was made for $250,000, complete with an assortment of actors recruited from magazines. Johnson apparently could not remember his lines, so Downey Sr did the dubbing for his character, which certainly brings a curious perspective when it comes to the fact that the character of Swope is both the most interesting person in the film despite the fact that it is basically played by two people. The other castmates (for which there is plenty of to show) are decent, in the sense that one is watching an offshoot movie that could either be for a sketch troupe or an arthouse imitator. The movie has a scattershot sense of pace, moving through its 84 minute run-time with episodic pace (such as pointed commercials shot in color) that goes through a satire of the corporate structure alongside racial politics. As a whole, it mostly works as an amusing feature, particularly with its opening sequence involving a board room with (mostly white) corporate sleazeballs; if one wanted to see folks at their most craven, one could just slip into a marketing discussion, I bet. Of course, most of the commercials featured are pretty amusing, such as one involving a serenade with poetic raunchy words. The movie basically points the finger of biting amusement at everyone, where the chance to gain power and fiddle with the status quo results in something familiar. As a whole, the movie is fairly effective in biting satire in the counterculture with its collection of misfit actors and an engaging director in Downey Sr that managed to become an offbeat winner for what it did in its time that still connects now.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: El Topo.

Sabata.

Review #1432: Sabata.

Cast: 
Lee Van Cleef (Sabata), William Berger (Banjo), Ignazio Spalla (Carrincha), Aldo Canti (Indio), Franco Ressel (Stengel), Antonio Gradoli (Ferguson), Linda Veras (Jane), Robert Hundar (Oswald, Stengel Henchman), Gianni Rizzo (Judge O'Hara), Spartaco Conversi (Slim, Stengel Henchman), and Carlo Tamberlani (Nichols) Directed by Gianfranco Parolini.

Review: 
"Bad guys have always been my bag . . . I look mean without even trying. Audiences just naturally hate me on screen. I could play a role in a tuxedo and people would think I was rotten. You can do much more with a villain part. Movies are full of leading men, most of whom aren't working. It's much harder to find a good villain."

Oh sure, why not another Western to the pile, one might think when it comes to a film called Sabata [Ehi amico ... c'è Sabata. Hai chiuso!]. One can tie a great deal of interesting things to come out of 1969, whether that meant an X-rated Best Picture winner or a unlikely motorcycle film to become a smash hit with the counterculture, or films willing to push the creative envelope in tone in Z and Medium Cool, or a mix of westerns with grand legacies in a slowing genre with key stars. This happens to be a decent spaghetti western with its own interesting star in Lee Van Cleef. After serving in the U.S Navy during World War II, Van Cleef turned to stage acting before receiving a break into film with High Noon (1952), which was a small villainous part due to his refusal to fix his nose to fit a friendly character. His sharp expressions, eyes and nose resulted in a string of villainous roles in Westerns, sci-fi and noir movies. He nearly had his life and career end in a severe car accident in 1958 (with a kneecap injury that could've led to him never riding a horse again), although he did continue work with television. On the verge of ending his career, he received a break with a key role in For a Few Dollars More (1965) after Charles Bronson rejected the part. He would also appear in the follow-up film The Good, the Bad and the Ugly the following year, with the resulting films helping to make Van Cleef an international star, with varying levels of anti-heroism in a collection of films (a good deal being spaghetti westerns). This was the first film in the Sabata trilogy, for which Van Cleef would star in the first and third films (Return of Sabata), all of whom were directed by Parolini. He had directed a number of sword-and-sandal films along with adaptations of Kommissar X while also the same one behind If You Meet Sartana Pray for Your Death (1968, the first of a five film series), which had featured the title character in a black suit with trick weapons and a motivation for money with a sense of mystery to him.

While this certainly doesn't rank as a particularly great western by any means, there is certainly a good time to be had here with the sum of its parts. Sure, it's a treasure hunt kind of film that has a fair body count and a mixture of action and light humor that make for a welcome curiosity. It might be a cheap western or one that looks made fast, but it sure isn't just a product to consume at the dime store, that much is for sure. Van Cleef excels in confidence when it comes to gravelly-toned dialogue to banter with other briefly or engaging in a drawn out drawdown. It isn't exactly a part befitting of someone wanting to win awards or a hammy turn, but Van Cleef gets the job done with professionalism. Berger, an Austrian-turned-spaghetti western character actor (who had also appeared in the first Sartana film, along with starring in a knock-off version), accompanies the film with quizzical appeal, seeming more out of place in the town as Van Cleef does, and that isn't counting the banjo gun. In that sense, he makes for a few welcome moments. Spalla proves fairly amusing, a formidable presence in wanting to keep him on screen with some mildly wry quip. Ressel proves quite silly in smugness as the main threat for the film, one who portrays avarice with the conviction of a dime-store book needing a few more pages. While the film definitely seems a bit much at 111 minutes when it comes to getting itself going, it ultimately proves a diverting time, with Marcello Giombini's music helping to set a tone of reasoned action with some touch of lightness go right, particularly with its catchy title theme. Ultimately, this is fine entertainment and a neat little gem, with a solid Van Cleef performance to make it an fair sixties film to have in the corner of your mind on a late night.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.
And there we have it, the last one for the month - the first 30-review month since July 2013. As such, here is the listing for the month of June, as we move into the "Me Decade" with 29 films. Hopefully you will enjoy.

Midnight Cowboy.

Review #1431: Midnight Cowboy.

Cast: 
Jon Voight (Joe Buck), Dustin Hoffman (Enrico Salvatore "Ratso" Rizzo), Sylvia Miles (Cass), John McGiver (Mr. O'Daniel), Brenda Vaccaro (Shirley), Barnard Hughes (Towny), Ruth White (Sally Buck), Jennifer Salt (Annie), and Gilman Rankin (Woodsy Niles) Directed by John Schlesinger.

Review: 
"I like making films that have question marks in them and are not all tied up beautifully with a pink ribbon, even though that's what the audience seems to want, and if you give it to them there's more assurance of commercial success, perhaps. But that's never the way I've seen life or reflected life in what I want to put on the screen."

If there was ever a time for a film to come out with a sense of grimy honesty and capable performances to make a tale of New York City from its lower edges come alive, Midnight Cowboy is definitely the film to do it. The changing of the times in what content could be touched upon or shown in films led at last to an film rating system by the Motion Picture Association of America in 1968, which had found initial ratings in G (General), M (Mature), R (Restricted), and X (no admissions under 16, adults-only). This film is known as the first and only X-rated film to have won an Academy Award for Best Picture, although it should be noted that it was later reclassified under the R-rating with no edits done. With that said, it should be no surprise to see such a provocative film come from British actor-turned-director (both feature and short films) John Schlesinger, who made his mark with urban dramas such as A Kind of Loving (1962), Billy Liar (1963), and Darling (1965). Accompanying him is Jon Voight, who had just two film credits before taking on this film and the effort to play a Texan (with the native New Yorker studying tapes of Texans incessantly) and Dustin Hoffman, a method actor that became part of a new generation of actors with versatile performances of varying vulnerability (he convinced the filmmakers to do the film by going out in a dirty coat and blending in with the surroundings). This was an adaptation of the 1965 novel of the same name from James Leo Herlihy. Responsible for the adaptation to film was Waldo Salt, who found a way to shift focus from the first half to the second half of the novel through flash-present sequences that would show the past of the main character through the eyes of a present scene as memories (shown either in color or in black-in-white). Despite anxiety over what people would think of it before release, Schlesinger ultimately felt that he made a film that while it couldn't be made today, captured a "mixture of desperation and humor which I found all along Forty-Second Street." Accordingly, both Salt and Schlesinger would win Academy Awards for their work on this film.

It is clear to see how one made such an interesting film that lurks in the cesspool with such tremendous acting from its main stars with a lasting power of sorts in detailing the underbelly of a city with misfits that make try to forge their way in the big city. There is a tender story worth viewing with Voight and Hoffman that reaches out to the loner in us, the person who yearns for more than what we see in the mirror or what we see in our soul. Hoffman achieves a grand scuzzy quality to his role, one that seeps into the underside without seeming comprised of any frills or distractions to make us believe anything other that we hear and see of him. He is the man perpetually on the outside of even marginal living, selling a character that you might bat an eye at if he was just "walkin' here". Voight matches in line with a curiosity and dandy nature as a would-be hustler that makes for a stirring performance in his pursuit to find somewhere (or someone) to belong with, and the scenes with Hoffman are the most dynamically compelling in interest, particularly when the film starts rolling down to the end of its 113 minute run-time. They may snipe at each other and they may both have plenty of trouble with a city like no other, but there is still a level of warmth beneath all the cold, which is still something to look back upon. A group of eccentrics make for an interesting supporting cast, each of whom get their own little scene with Voight, for which McGiver does the quirkiest and most interesting one as a gay religious fanatic. The film clicks more often than not as a gritty piece of work that breaks innocence of a dream into several little pieces to dissect. It is a tender and somber film to its fateful end, hustling about with no compromises but hard-life choices to make that leave its viewer with something to think about as a key piece of its time and a highlight for its stars that make it a daring and welcome film for those are mature enough for it.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Easy Rider.

Review #1430: Easy Rider.

Cast: 
Peter Fonda (Wyatt), Dennis Hopper (Billy), Jack Nicholson (George Hanson), featuring Phil Spector (Connection), Warren Finnerty (Rancher), Luke Askew (Stranger on highway), Luana Anders (Lisa), Sabrina Scharf (Sarah), Robert Walker Jr (Jack), Hayward Robillard (Cat Man), Arnold Hess Jr (Deputy), Toni Basil (Mary), Karen Black (Karen), with David C. Billodeau and Johnny David (Pickup Truck drivers) Directed by Dennis Hopper.

Review: 
"I am just a middle-class farm boy from Dodge City and my grandparents were wheat farmers. I thought painting, acting, directing and photography was all part of being an artist. I have made my money that way. And I have had some fun. It's not been a bad life." - Dennis Hopper

If one ever needed a time capsule of 1969 that would encapsulate a journey filled with wanderers that look for America and find something beyond their wildest dreams, I would say Easy Rider is that kind of fitting movie. It is a road film like no other, one that represented a high point of the New Hollywood era that would be characterized by films with directors that were given the tools to try and express something different from the studio-dominated directed films of the past. Every few decades have their share of directors that come through the ranks to forge their place with iconic films or presences, and this applies just as much for stars as well. Fonda was already a counterculture icon to some for films such as The Wild Angels (1966) and this picture, and he found inspiration from seeing a still of himself in the former film to make a sort of modern Western with bikers travelling across the country. Hopper, who had made a name for himself as a method actor with a combative personality on film and television (which led to him turning to photography) was called by Fonda to see about trying to make that idea into a film. Hopper and Fonda wrote the film with novelist and Dr. Strangelove co-writer Terry Southern, while Hopper directed, and Fonda produced it. One shouldn't forget Nicholson in all of this, as he had collaborated with Hopper and Fonda previously with his written script for Roger Corman's LSD film The Trip. The credit for who did what when it came to writing is a bit murky, since one can see a good deal of improvisation among a thin story and attempts by Hopper and Fonda to downplay Southern's role in the film. Instead of a music score, the soundtrack is comprised of songs from noted artists and bands such as The Byrds, Steppenwolf, and The Jimi Hendrix Experience, with the licensing for the songs costing around a million dollars (which was larger than the filming budget of over $300,000).

This is a film with its own kind of freedom to move around with its main duo on its own terms that is wild at heart with a power that still has an appeal after all these years, for better or worse. 1969 and 2020 are two completely different years in terms of communication and other various things, but it isn't too hard to still see a commonality in one's search for their own kind of freedom and the problems that can come from it, where the clash of cultures never really did end with the 1960s - it has merely amplified in the prevailing years. What does it really mean to be free?  Through their travels, Hopper and Fonda find themselves in the presence of farmers, hippies, rough locals, and one strange trip in Mardi Gras that make quite an interesting portrait of the times in all of its hopes, dreams, and ultimately anguish, complete with them and Nicholson getting high on marijuana on camera. Fonda makes for a solid performance, not needing to say too much until the trip sequence that gives him room to show a tortured spirit within the guise of freedom (notably, Hopper convinced a reluctant Fonda to talk to the statue as if it was his mother, who had died when he was 10). Hopper makes a subdued but worthwhile misfit to accompany Fonda and make a film with frenzied interest both in the film and outside it. He reportedly had proposed doing a four hour cut that had extended sequences along with extensive use of flash-forward that would insert scenes from later parts of the film into a current scene. Nicholson, who had toiled in low budget roles for over a decade, does a tremendous job with the time he is given as an outsider with spirit and conviction in whatever he does and says on screen, whether that means hitching a ride with a football helmet or talking a theory about aliens among us. In the end, the swift and sudden climax makes for a thoughtful conclusion to a film that travels to being itself with no sense of trying to be something it isn't, appealing to an audience that had seen plenty of events and furor in the sixties that linger in our consciousness now without seeming played out or something to poke at. One gets a feel for the road without being overwhelmed by it all. The jump cuts alongside the carefree camera movements and natural lighting make for an experience worth 95 minutes. As one probably already knows, this was a tremendous hit for Columbia Pictures (at one point, an executive apparently stated that while he didn't know what it meant, it would "make a fuck of a lot of money."), and others would follow in its wake with their own kind of free-spirited and free-willing technique that makes for a worthwhile legacy for a film that is an interesting worthwhile time. It isn't perfect by any means, but it is certainly deserving of a place in the mentions of the films of the 1960s as a sign of the times for present and future in more ways than one.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

True Grit (1969).

Review #1314: True Grit.

Cast: 
John Wayne (Reuben J. "Rooster" Cogburn), Kim Darby (Mattie Ross), Glen Campbell (La Boeuf), Jeremy Slate (Emmett Quincy), Robert Duvall (Lucky Ned Pepper), Dennis Hopper (Moon), Alfred Ryder (Goudy), Strother Martin (Col. G. Stonehill), Jeff Corey (Tom Chaney), Ron Soble (Captain Boots Finch), John Fiedler (Lawyer Daggett), and James Westerfield (Judge Parker) Directed by Henry Hathaway.

Review: 
It seems perfectly appropriate to close a year out with a Western (or start one, if you're into that sort of tradition) - particularly one released in a year as intreging as 1969. That year was a time where the genre experienced variations of telling a tale of the Old West through various lens such as The Wild Bunch with its touch of violence or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and its touch of humor. This is a film that very well could have been made in a previous decade - after all, its director was known primarily for quite a few Westerns in his time (mostly with Gary Cooper as star), with producer Hal B. Wallis having served as producer on films such as Casablanca (1942) or Westerns like The Sons of Katie Elder (released four years earlier, which had both Hathaway and Wayne). However, this was an adaptation of the 1968 novel of the same name from Charles Portis, adapted to the screen by Marguerite Roberts. Wayne had read the novel and soon expressed a desire to star in the main role, while later calling the screenplay the best one he ever read. The other parts of the main trio came a bit more shakily, with considerations for Mattie ranging from Mia Farrow to Sally Field before Darby wound up with the role, while Elvis Presley was the original one in mind for the role eventually taken up by Campbell (complete with singing the title song to open the film). Hathaway did not find himself having a great relationship with either of them along with Duvall, but he certainly leads them to worthy performances, not tripping up the momentum in part because the film knows when to be an adventure and when to have a bit of charm as well. It may be a tale of revenge, but it's still one with tradition involved. Wayne moves with careful confidence, a man wracked by who he is and what he means to someone who needs a person like him to hunt - plenty of grit and plenty of charm beneath that gauze eye-patch. Darby shines with persistence, a fine person to play off the main presence without being lost in the background. Campbell seems a bit stiff when on screen, but at least he doesn't slow the momentum too much. Duvall makes for a fair adversary alongside Hopper and Corey (who gets to make a crack while doing a stare-down) makes for a compelling showdown person for the climax. It uses its 128 minutes to great effect, driving a riveting climax with action and class, earning its wonderful last shot (Wayne jumping a fence with a horse) with conviction and triumph. It is a film with a spirit of adventure that brims itself high and mighty without needing to be wrapped in too much sentiment or bluntness. It falls into the conventions of the genre, without trouble, a well made venture for those who seek it out looking for something worthwhile.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

Review #1289: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

Cast: 
Paul Newman (Butch Cassidy), Robert Redford (the Sundance Kid), Katharine Ross (Etta Place), Strother Martin (Percy Garris), Henry Jones (Bike Salesman), Jeff Corey (Sheriff Bledsoe), George Furth (Woodcock), Cloris Leachman (Agnes), and Ted Cassidy (Harvey Logan) Directed by George Roy Hill (#962 - A Little Romance and #1178 - Slap Shot)

Review: 
It never proves to be a bad idea to do watch a Western, especially when you have a dynamite trio of actors and a capable director willing to have some fun with a genre as familiar as this one. The 1960s certainly could turn a film genre on its head a bit, as was the case with The Wild Bunch - which was a violent shocking take on the genre released the same year. Really the best representation of this film and its vision of a Western could be the scene involving the sheriff and his attempts at rounding people up to apprehend the two leads, which leads to a salesman trying to push bicycles as the new way to get around instead of horses. William Goldman was inspired by the exploits of the real-life duo of robbers in part because of the fact that they had a second act (running off to Bolivia after their pursuit by the "superposse"); he wrote it as a screenplay between 1965-66, but it initially did not receive interest in part because of the departure to South America by the characters, and numerous actors rejected being the stars such as Steve McQueen, Warren Beatty, and Jack Lemmon. In any case, adapting an Old West legend into its own little tale isn't exactly a new thing, but this is a film that is fairly clever in its approach, being good-natured with where it wants to go without pushing its audience too hard in any one direction, having a bit of fun alongside other moments that make this a worthy Western for anyone. Both Newman and Redford are fun to be around with, with the former having plenty of charm and a sense of humor, which sticks out in most scenes, such as him riding a bicycle with Ross while "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head" (which ended up winning an Academy Award for Best Original Song for its writers, Burt Bacharach and Hal David) plays in the background. Redford is just as dynamic when it comes to garnering a sardonic moment in a role that helped boost him to full-fledged stardom - for good reason. Ross proves interesting as well, making for a fine spark within a trio that holds the ship well. There isn't a big bad like one sees with other Westerns, but the film doesn't really need one to really drive things, where little moments with others work just as fine in giving the film something to tell an interesting yarn that doesn't need all the facts to be a capable Western. The 110 minute run-time proves alright, with its surrounding first and latter halves holding a bit more steady than its middle involving the departure to Bolivia. The action does work out pretty nicely, including one amusing moment with a train and its clerk. It stands out well with its good sense of humor and timing, a pleaser for the crowds that stands just as tall today as it did a half century ago.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.