Fear and Desire.

Review #2051: Fear and Desire.

Cast: 

Frank Silvera (Sgt. Mac), Kenneth Harp (Lt. Corby / The General), Paul Mazursky (Pvt. Sidney), Steve Coit (Pvt. Fletcher / The Captain), with Virginia Leith (The Girl), and David Allen (Narrator) Produced and Directed by Stanley Kubrick (#044 - Full Metal Jacket, #065 - The Shining, #093 - 2001: A Space Odyssey, #1046 - Barry Lyndon, #1301 - Dr. Strangelove, and #1440 - A Clockwork Orange)

Review: 

"I don't know a goddamn thing about movies, but I know I can make a better film than that." [c. 1950s]

Stanley Kubrick directed his first feature film with Fear and Desire at the age of 24 and later called it "a bumbling amateur film exercise". I would say that is possibly all you need to see the film for itself, if only because the ridiculous acts of Kubrick in trying to bury the film (which included calling the film awful when it was going to be commercially screened for the first time in decades in 1994) has made it something to look about when talking about Kubrick before he was known as Kubrick. Of course, he made rookie mistakes as any filmmaker could do, but most probably don't try to use crop sprayers to create fog only to nearly choke people when insecticide was found to be still inside. It also helps that the film is in the public domain and is also his shortest film at 61 minutes. It was originally shown at the Venice Film Festival in 1952 as "Shape of Fear" only to see distribution by Joseph Burstyn in 1953 (months before his death at the age of 53) under the title it is now known as. Kubrick had been born in New York City and was raised in the Bronx, where his interest in film and photography became apparent from an early age. After spending time as a photographer for Look magazine Kubrick became a director with three documentaries in Day of the Fight (1951), Flying Padre (1951), and The Seafarers (1953). The results of showing his films around got Kubrick some finances to try and make a feature film, with his uncle Martin Perveler contributing his key part. Howard Sackler, a friend of Kubrick and a future playwright (most notably The Great White Hope), wrote the screenplay. The film was shot over the course of a couple of weeks with a crew totaling just over a dozen people in the San Gabriel Mountains of California. Kubrick also shot and edited the film himself with the intent to make it a silent film, but this would change (which resulted in him making a deal with Richard De Rochemont in funding). The film did not receive great audience returns, but there were a few decent reviews Two years after the release of the film, Kubrick would direct his second film with Killer's Kiss, a crime film noir which he wrote with Sackler.

There is something to be said about a film like this that achieves a curiosity in such pictorial oddness. It is a strange film, one that is distinct in of itself from the future twelve films to come from such an interesting presence. What is there to say about a group of men and the conscious acts they make that compare with what is said on screen? Plenty, if the movie has anything to say for an argument. Sure, there is a plot about an assassination of an officer in this unnamed war that they are dealing with, but the real attraction is looking at these people up close in their attempt to not go up the river mentally and in a figurative sense. Any film that begins with narration that has lines such as "These soldiers that you see keep our language and our time but have no other country but the mind" can only inspire one to treat the film as a sort of odd fever dream. It is the kind of film that lives and dies on just how much of it you buy into, if only because it isn't the sort of with any great performances or definitive answers on the basis of fear. With that in mind for such a mechanical curiosity, I think it works out just fine. Danger, risk, desperation, being built for war or not, it all is a blur that is handled with weird touch from actors such as Mazursky, who has his most noted moment when trying to handle his delirium at being the only one in view of the one found captive in Leith or in the double-act played to general patience by Harp or Coit. Silvera is no slouch of course, with his pursuit for one great act of courage in the face of certain end being a curious one to let itself play out. As a whole, it is a curious film wrapped in a puddle of fear and expression that obviously shows the potential for its director rather than serving as an avoidable exercise, and it should be celebrated for the useful execution that squeezes by rather than left in the dust.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

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.

A Star is Born (1976).

Review #1454: A Star is Born.

Cast: 
Barbra Streisand (Esther Hoffman Howard), Kris Kristofferson (John Norman Howard), Gary Busey (Bobbie Ritchie), Paul Mazursky (Brian Wexler), Joanne Linville (Freddie Lowenstein), Oliver Clark (Gary Danziger), Venetta Fields (One), Clydie King (Two), Sally Kirkland (Photographer), and Marta Heflin (Quentin) Directed by Frank Pierson.

Review: 
"Filming with Barbra Streisand is an experience which may have cured me of the movies."

"For us, the picture cost $6 million and a year of our lives. For the audience it's $3.50 and an evening out. If it's a bum evening, it doesn't make me any better or worse as a person. But if you think the film is you, if it is your effort to transform your lover into a producer worthy of a superstar, if you think it is a home movie about your love and your hope and your deepest feelings, if it's your life that you laid out for the folks and they don't smile back, that's death."
I think I had a pretty good idea of what I was getting myself into when it came time to do this film. It isn't exactly the first time I've seen this kind of story done of a film before. We've moved from romantic drama to musical to musical romantic drama when it comes to A Star is Born, and the easiest thing that can be said is that it certainly is the worst of the bunch in making a consistent romance and tragedy. It seems completely perplexed at times what to do when the camera isn't incessantly focusing on Streisand (who also served as executive producer for the film) as the whole thing threatens to collapse as an ego experience. It is only the curiosity of seeing the limits of where Streisand can go in this "pop and roll" style combined with the enjoyment of seeing Kristofferson stagger with charisma and self-destruction that make things not self-destruct into oblivion for a baffling 142 minutes. This is ridiculous junk, but I'll be darned if I didn't get some sort of cackling enjoyment from seeing how far one can really go in making such a murky 70s film that seems like the ideal sellout and embarrassment for all involved. My particularly favorite memory with the film is not so much a particular scene but actually an article that director Pierson wrote for New West magazine a month before the film's release with "My Battles With Barbra and Jon", which detailed some of the conflicts that Pierson had with producer (and star) Streisand and producer Jon Peters (a hairdresser-turned-producer and Streisand's boyfriend at the tine). There are some interesting little moments involving clashes of ego, but one of my favorite baffling moments is Pierson's meeting with the two in which at one point Peters actually asked if the lead male star had to commit suicide at the end as opposed to having it be an accident instead, since it sounded like such a turnoff. By the time Pierson was approached by Warner Brothers to do the film, numerous writer and directors had been brought in and brought out of doing the film, which had originally been written by Joan Didion and John Dunne as a rock musical with a couple like James Taylor and Carly Simon in parallel careers. Oh but the troubles did not stop with just Streisand (as amusing as it might seem to lay all of the squabbles and jokes on one star/producer). Kristofferson chafed when it came to filming, since he felt that they were making a "Barbra Streisand lollipop extravaganza" rather than some sort of statement about rock music (at least he has the excuse of drinking to act for a drunk lead). Sure, one could debate the ethics of doing an article so close to a film's release, but I heartily enjoy details like this, and even without the article the film is amusing to pick and poke at for its ambitions that crash like a motorcycle on stage.

It is entirely possible that there is a movie here worth really looking into the jagged turns that fame can do to a rock star that the other two films had done for actors. Of course the main problem with that theory is that perhaps Streisand just can't entirely pull off a nervous unknown given a push into stardom. It all seems too manufactured to really stick, too absorbed in showing off without letting you really breathe an actual romance, since the two leads seem entirely focused on literally anything but the other person in front of them. To say the film is all sizzle and no steak is an understatement: the steak got so caught up in re-writes that it turned into a small nut to disintegrate on the grill. On the other hand, I did rather enjoy Kristofferson (a native of Brownsville, Texas that took upon acting to go with his singing-songwriting) and his distant demeanor in his weary entertaining performance. He may be playing a jerk, but man does it invite more conviction and more of a look than what comes out on screen. Busey, an eccentric playing an eccentric peddler of producer (and other certain things) is amusing to see in the few scenes that he is in. Mazursky, who started work as an actor (debuting in Fear and Desire in 1953) before taking on writing and eventually directing (with films such as Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice in 1969), does a careful job here in balancing out the line between producer and man trying to keep someone off the deepest end. The others are here and there, just people to fill in the background before yet another wild or silly antic between our strange stars. To put it mildly, this film stinks, but it sure is a funny one to think about. It is a testament to how overproduced and micromanaged a film can be in hands that believe they are truly making something that can match up to what was old (and classic) while serving the masses with no problem then and now, a hubris unmatched in mediocrity. I know one can see better films with Streisand or Kristofferson, but none could probably be as ridiculous to view play out like this one.


Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

2 Days in the Valley.

Review #1212: 2 Days in the Valley.

Cast: 
Danny Aiello (Dosmo Pizzo), Greg Cruttwell (Allan Hopper), Jeff Daniels (Alvin Strayer), Teri Hatcher (Becky Foxx), Glenne Headly (Susan Parish), Peter Horton (Roy Foxx), Marsha Mason (Audrey Hopper), Paul Mazursky (Teddy Peppers), James Spader (Lee Woods), Eric Stoltz (Wes Taylor), Charlize Theron (Helga Svelgen), and Keith Carradine (Detective Creighton) Directed by John Herzfeld.

Review: 
Sometimes you just need a crime movie about people who share in common the fact that they are just a bunch of weirdos - whether you have seen this type of movie before or not. They aren't exactly winners, but they have some sort of "unrealized potential" (as described by writer/director Herzfeld) - and it all comes together to make an okay film. Herzfeld's previous experience with direction of films was primarily television specials and movies (such as his two works with ABC Afterschool Special in 1980 and 1981), with one theatrical release with Two of a Kind in 1983. Admittedly, the cast listing is likely to prove more interesting, since you have a movie that can say it has scenes with key highlight stars such as Aiello, Headly, Mazursky, Spader, Stoltz, and Theron making for a feature that probably should have been better. It won't serve as anyone's favorite film to watch for anyone's marathon, but at least there is enough here in terms of charm and occasional action to make it a fair use of 105 minutes. It sure tries to move itself swiftly with tricks and twists, some of which that work and others that mostly feel like a tap on the door rather than a big blast. It is at least sometimes present with a sense of dark humor that rolls alongside a plot connecting its dots together across people in the San Fernando Valley, which goes well enough. Its the interactions that can come from it that make this roll through the bumps, such as Aiello and Headly, or Mazursky (a director who can't go through ending it all in a cemetery because his yapping dog is with him) with Mason. Easily, the one who I revel in watching is Spader, who walks right through playing a slimy creep like this without struggle, whether acting with Aiello and a clock or with Theron. Aiello is also pretty fun to be with, wry and useful to be around with, such as when having to interact with these other nuts (including the one he thought would work fine as his other hitman partner). The time spent with Daniels and Stoltz isn't too particularly long, but it is fine to see how they act within the lines of the cop angle of the film - one with cynicism, one with ambition. Hatcher falls as the weak point, not being as interesting to follow with, minus one fight with Theron that actually is pretty amusing to see go down. Cruttwell is somewhat amusing, but he doesn't really have much to do for the second half. The best that can be said for the film is that it doesn't overstay its welcome, bookending itself with some charm and decent entertainment (with a worthy enough climax) - it isn't perfect, but there is something here worth curiosity, due to its assembled cast and where they go from there. It is a movie that finds itself on a road going 76 on a 70 limit, having a bit of movement without going off the rails or all the way still.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.