Murder on the Orient Express (1974).

Review #1446: Murder on the Orient Express.

Cast: 
Albert Finney (Hercule Poirot), Lauren Bacall (Mrs. Hubbard), Martin Balsam (Bianchi), Ingrid Bergman (Greta Ohlsson), Jacqueline Bisset (Countess Helena Andrenyi), Jean-Pierre Cassel (Pierre Paul Michel), Sean Connery (Colonel Arbuthnot), John Gielgud (Edward Beddoes), Wendy Hiller (Princess Natalia Dragomiroff), Anthony Perkins (Hector McQueen), Vanessa Redgrave (Mary Debenham), Rachel Roberts (Hildegarde Schmidt), Richard Widmark (Ratchett), Michael York (Count Rudolf Andrenyi), Colin Blakely (Cyrus B. Hardman), George Coulouris (Dr. Constantine), and Denis Quilley (Antonio Foscarelli) Directed by Sidney Lumet (#035 - 12 Angry Men, #036 - Network, #404 - The Anderson Tapes, and #1065 - Deathtrap)

Review: 
"My job is acting, and that is why I hate interviews or lectures, explaining myself to an audience."

Sometimes the devil is in the details when it comes to making a film, and this can be two-fold for a movie like this, an all-star mystery film based on the book of the same name by one of the most famous authors of all time, Agatha Christie. Her novel featured the famed character Hercule Poirot, who was featured in over forty novels and short stories since the very first in The Mysterious Affair at Styles (1920). Murder on the Orient Express (1934) had been inspired by numerous events, such as a stuck Orient Express train that was there for five days in snow along with the infamous kidnapping of Charles and Anne Lindbergh's baby. Christie had her works first adapted into film with The Passing of Mr. Quin (1928), while the first Poirot adaptation followed with Alibi (1931, starring Austin Trevor). Four actors have played the character of Poirot in film: Trevor, Tony Randall, Finney, Peter Ustinov, and Kenneth Branagh, although the most famous portrayal of the character is likely David Suchet's portrayal (1989-2013) that adapted the entire catalogue of mysteries by Christie as 70 episodes for British television. Despite reservations about a film adaptation, this proved to be one of the very few that she liked (the other was Witness for the Prosecution) prior to her death in 1976.

To put in perspective how careful one had to handle such a diverse international cast, five actors (Gielgud, Quilley, Redgrave, Bergman, and Finney) were participating in the production in the day while doing West End performances in London in the night time. Finney (third choice after Alec Guinness and Paul Scofield, both unavailable) must have had it worst of all, since he needed tremendous makeup done to emulate his character but also need sleep, which reportedly led to a routine where he would be taken out on a stretcher while asleep and the crew would do makeup on him as he was being traveled to the set. Finney, a graduate of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, had started his career with the theatre in 1956 (starring as the title role in Henry V), before taking on television and film with The Entertainer (1960), and he would come into prominence with his lead roles in Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (same year) and Tom Jones (1963) in a varied career that had a good deal of success for over five decades before his death in 2019 at the age of 82. As a who's who for a whodunit meant to evoke the elegance of a different time (such as Richard Rodney Bennett's striking musical composition), this proves quite satisfactory for all parties involved. Whether one is familiar with the famed novel or not isn't too important - the mystery is carefully crafted with these distinct faces that are each given a few moments to shine while set primarily on a railway car that makes for a quality 128 minutes. Finney is quite excellent with a role basked in makeup and a careful disposition that makes him the ideal man to match up with a mystery like this, particularly when it comes to seeing his initial interactions with others before the train leaves compared to when he lays out the climax of the whodunit (a scene shot numerous times to capture all the adequate angles) - he leads the film on with well-crafted care. Balsam and Coulouris accompany him for the hunt with care, while Widmark makes for a fine conniving presence to set up his murder. Of the stars that appear, the ones who seem to stand out are Bacall, Bergman (who rejected playing a bigger part while having one stand out five-minute interrogation scene, which resulted in a Best Supporting Actress win at the Academy Awards - her third overall), Gielgud, and Perkins. Each stand their ground when it comes to making their moments count in laying out their side of a story, although no one really lends a bad performance anywhere, since having a bit of scenery-chewing now and then comes with the territory without derailing the suspension of disbelief. By the time one gets to its conclusion, one finds them satisfied with how things raveled and unraveled without fail or stumble. Films can serve as escapism for its audience, and a murder mystery with plenty of agreeable faces and voices complete with a game Finney at the head and a craftsman in Lumet make for a good time worth a curiosity in its era.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Sting.

Review #1445: The Sting.

Cast: 
Paul Newman (Henry "Shaw" Gondorff), Robert Redford (Johnny "Kelly" Hooker), Robert Shaw (Doyle Lonnegan), Charles Durning (Lt. William Snyder, Joliet P.D.), Ray Walston (J.J. Singleton), Eileen Brennan (Billie), Harold Gould (Kid Twist), John Heffernan (Eddie Niles), Dana Elcar (FBI Agent Polk), Dimitra Arliss (Loretta), Robert Earl Jones (Luther Coleman), and Jack Kehoe (Erie Kid) Directed by George Roy Hill (#962 - A Little Romance, #1178 - Slap Shot, and #1289 - Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid)

Review: 
"I find publicity is distasteful and I don't think it does the picture any good to focus on the director. I think it's only a very small group of the public that really pays attention to the director. Lately it's come around to that the director is more of a star than he was, but I've never wanted that."

There are just some movies that are destined to become great works to endure, whether for their style, or for their execution in writing, directing, or the actors. This is a film that has all of those attributes to make for one of the most well-crafted experiences for the 1970s. It should only figure that a well-crafted film would come from a craftsman like George Roy Hill. He had served as a pilot in both World War II and the Korean War as a Marine while having studied at Yale and Trinity College (studying music and literature, respectively). He made his debut in the stage of Ireland before moving to Broadway, where he would later shift his attention to directing. After nearly a decade of writing/directing for anthology television and Broadway (on and off), he made his debut in motion pictures with Period of Adjustment (1962, an adaptation of the Tennessee Williams play that Hill directed). Although Hill did not garner as much respect as other directors of his time (perhaps in part because of his reluctance for self-promotion), he would direct fourteen films in 26 years (retiring to teach at Yale) through his firm style of directing that made him a favorite for actors in films with varying success such as Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967), Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969), and Slap Shot (1977, now considered a cult classic). The script came from David S. Ward, graduate of both UCLA and USC film schools, whose only writing credit at the time was Steelyard Blues (1973). He was inspired to make a film about confidence men because he had never saw one about them before, having researched pickpockets (despite this, David Maurer, writer of The Big Con - a 1940 book that detailed real life grifters such as Fred and Charley Gondoroff, sued for plagiarism, which was settled after the film's release to the disappointment of Ward).

One doesn't need to say how much power Newman and Redford have in chemistry together, both having come from Broadway to film to become icons by the time of this film, their second of two films together. They are quality stars that bask into a quality script that gives them room to engage in some amusement alongside setting up the audience in confidence for the big con that resonates as a wonderful emulation of 1930s films with great style. It is escapism of the highest order for all to see and hear. Redford proves as capable as ever in exuding confidence and care for a role worth having so much self assurance and timing to go with it, a set-up man with plenty of charm to go around. Newman proves just as alluring in traditional confidence that can be just as amusing as Redford with plenty of ways of building people up, such as when he engages in a poker game with Shaw while pretending to be drunk and getting the better of him through a few jokes and careful handling. Shaw (who also was a novelist and playwright when not in the theater or films) proves resilient as the heavy for the film, having a striking quality to him that makes him a perfect mark and contrast to the others in the film that lurks in our attention without turning into a caricature. Durning (a prolific character actor of stage, television, and film) proves the perfect foil authority, one with brute convictions that makes a perfect mark. Walston and Gould (both prolific character actors) make for quality acts to help set up the background of making the con go with class, while Brennan rounds out the focus points with care, whereas others get brief but meaningful moments (such as an allusive Arlisss or a warm Jones for the first con of the film). One never finds anything they see or hear to be a distraction, playing a long game in delivering entertainment for its audience with a mix of humor and caper style to tremendous effect, where the 129 minutes slip away with no trouble in following it all the way with details. It is interesting that the film works so well as a film attempting to look like the 1930s with its cinematography by Robert Surtees, editing from William Reynolds and costuming by Edith Head that goes with a music score (done by Marvin Hamlisch) that adapts early 20th century ragtime music from Scott Joplin (ragtime, although outdated by the 1930s actually experienced a revival in the 1970s, with "The Entertainer" being a great tune to listen to) to make for such an involving experience. Perhaps it isn't surprising that this film received numerous accolades as a tremendous hit for the time, with Hill, Ward, Reynolds, Head, Hamlisch each winning Academy Awards for their work (along with wins for Best Production Design and Best Picture). In the long run, this is one of the most entertaining films of its time, one that serves as a gem for Hill, Redford, and Newman in captivating a sharp winner that holds true in great craftsmanship and planning after over four decades to make for a grand legacy worth checking out.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

The Way We Were.

Review #1444: The Way We Were.

Cast: 
Barbra Streisand (Katie Morosky), Robert Redford (Hubbell Gardiner), Bradford Dillman (J.J.), Lois Chiles (Carol Ann), Patrick O'Neal (George Bissinger), Viveca Lindfors (Paula Reisner), Allyn Ann McLerie (Rhea Edwards), Murray Hamilton (Brooks Carpenter), Herb Edelman (Bill Verso), and Diana Ewing (Vicki Bissinger) Directed by Sydney Pollack (#084 - Tootsie and #1441 - Jeremiah Johnson)

Review: 
“As a young woman, I wanted nothing more than to see my name in lights.”
Barbra Streisand dreamed of being an actress from childhood, and it is easy to say that she has followed through with considerable talent for six decades. The daughter of a teacher and a singer-turned-bookkeeper, she practiced singing from a young age while eventually spending additional time studying acting (such as stage actress biographies and acting theories). She made her way from nightclubs in 1960 to Broadway in 1962, with her first album being released the following year. Her appearance in the 1964 Broadway production of Funny Girl furthered her success, and when the musical was adapted into a film in 1968, she would make her film debut and reprise her role and win an Academy Award for Best Actress. By the time she was in line to do this film (her seventh), she had starred in a variety of genres such as musicals, comedies, and dramas.

Some movies are just schmaltzy, and this one nearly drowns because of it. Actually, one little barometer you can use to try and set the mood for if you may enjoy this film is how one reacts to the title song of the picture, sung by Streisand and written by Alan Bergman, Marilyn Bergman, and Marvin Hamlisch. It supposedly is a tearjerker kind of song, so if one really is swayed by melodramatic phrases like "Memories light the corners of my mind / Misty watercolor memories of the way we were", then by all means go for it. If I ever had a blindspot when it comes to music, sad love songs rank up there. Inspiration for the film came from the experiences of writer Arthur Laurents during his time at Cornell University, where he knew a student just as reactionary about events of the time as the main character present here, with an eventual turn to creating a love story (of sorts) with a talented writer without the strength to really apply themselves with writing. Laurents was a noted playwright who had directed Streisand in I Can Get It for You Wholesale back in 1962. The film may seem a bit jumbled with its plot, and the fact that there were numerous re-writes done to the script (from writers such as Dalton Trumbo) doesn't help, and Laurents had left (and returned) the production due to taking issue with Pollack with his handling of the main characters, since he felt that he needed to make Redford's character more equal to Streisand's character (since Pollack had promised Redford to make the character less of a strawman in order to get Redford to sign on). Laurents was obviously not too pleased with the resulting film, once stating that "To make a mantra of 'It's only a movie was as useless and foolish as feeling pain. No matter what I felt or thought, no matter what I tried to accomplish or how, Sydney Pollack would ultimately have his way. That was what I had to face and accept. They didn't cry 'Author! Author! in the movies, they never had. Now they cried 'Auteur! Auteur! -- even if the auteur fucked up the picture."

As a film about the evolving times into the Hollywood blacklist interlaced with a tragic romance, it isn't exactly a strongly put-together film, particularly when it comes to settling in the tragic parts of its climax, which seem too abrupt for a film that somehow seems too long and not long enough at the same time of 118 minutes. Your mileage may vary on what seems most interesting to you when it comes to the story, but I just couldn't get myself into all that this film wants to juggle, a snoozer in the political aspects (when not trying to preach to the choir). Everything one could praise for a film like this can soon be followed by the word however, as if this was a film of contradicted principles. Streisand and Redford seem to do well with each other, beaming as stars with distinct craftsmanship that can make for interesting magic when not arguing with each other. You know the type: the idealist with resilience and fire like a phoenix and the golden boy with his own sense of preservation (you can tell pretty quickly which one you might like better when it gets to the college speech scene, where she talks about her beliefs with Marxism before getting mocked with a "Any Peace But Katie's Piece" sign - which leads to her getting mad and calling them fascists, which is just as amusing as trying to take Marxism super seriously). In a sense it is like watching passionate waves crash onto a calming beach, which can work pretty well. On the other hand, the supporting characters seem to be a victim of the editing (particularly with a wasted Hamilton), where one only sees fleeting moments with folks like O'Neal that only serve to try to not drag things out to the inevitable pasture.  If one goes along with these characters, then all power to you - to me I couldn't help but think of them more as belonging to camp than true tragedy. For its failures to really set up a cohesive finish before its final manipulations with the climax, I can't find myself to give a positive shake for this film - its machinations to get to its tragic point are frenzied and not consistent enough to stick its landing, regardless of how much star power is present here. I do not care for tearjerker films like this because I know that it really isn't going to shake me the way it thinks it will, since this one nearly inspires laughter at its subject rather than pity. Maybe it is a reflection on what fits my tastes more than anything, since one knows Streisand and Redford have done far better films than this. This is an irritating mediocre movie, because you know that this annoying tearslop could do so much better, and yet here we are with a shaky principled mess that only serves as a late night rental for those who just want to see Streisand and Redford together once without having the highest of expectations. 

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

A Touch of Class.

Review #1443: A Touch of Class.

Cast: 
George Segal (Steve Blackburn), Glenda Jackson (Vickie Allessio), Hildegarde Neil (Gloria Blackburn), Paul Sorvino (Walter Menkes), K Callan (Patty Menkes), Cec Linder (Wendell Thompson), Lisa Vanderpump (Julia Allessio), Michael Elwyn (Cecil), Mary Barclay (Martha Thompson), Nadim Sawalha (Night Hotel Manager) Produced and Directed by Melvin Frank.

Review: 
"Acting is not about dressing up. Acting is about stripping bare. The whole essence of learning lines is to forget them so you can make them sound like you thought of them that instant."

Do you like a comedy of errors? One that wants to have a share of amusement with (presumably) mismatched characters who find their way towards some sort of romance? Welp, this might work out well for you, I suppose. You know the type: one's American while the other is British, one is high-strung while the other is high-tempered, one's married with kids and the other is divorced (with kids too, although they basically disappear from the film pretty quickly). It definitely seems like a film with old-fashioned roots to it (where adultery could not be as broadly covered). Technically this is correct, since Melvin Frank was a co-writer/director for over four decades, with notable co-writing credits including My Favorite Blonde (1942, his debut script with longtime partner Norman Panama), Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948), and The Facts of Life (1960, co-written, co-directed, and co-produced with Panama). The last one is interesting to note, since that film (featuring Bob Hope and Lucille Ball) also featured an affair that unwittingly turns into a romance, although this occurs during a trip between neighbor couples; Frank and co-writer Jack Rose adapted this film from Frank's short story "She Loves Me, She Told Me So Last Night". Frank, alongside Rose and some of the production crew would return with Segal, Jackson, and Sorvino for Lost and Found (1979), which also dealt with the struggles that develop with lust and love between an American and a British person (although this results in marriage as opposed to an affair).

In other words, one might be thinking that they are seeing something familiar when it comes to a romantic comedy like this, particularly when it comes to the bickering. It generally works best when it is set on the chemistry between its main stars and less so when it tries to go farther than cute scenarios for its last third, with an ending that might make you shrug either out of mild acceptance or apathy as opposed to being successfully bittersweet. On the one hand, there is plenty of talent present: Segal, prevalent in the 1960s and 1970s with dramatic and comedic roles with Jackson, who had risen from work in television (1957) and the theater (1964) to add film to her respected body of work that resulted in numerous accolades (starting with Women in Love (1969), which along with this film resulted in an Academy Award for Best Actress). Not to be forgotten in the fracas is copywriter-turned-actor Sorvino, however (an underrated supporting man, particularly here). One finds plenty to find interest with the main couple, with Segal proving fair in resilient smarminess with occasional quips that make for quite a match with an amusing and passionate Jackson that is filled with just as many retorts and allure that makes one almost think they are watching a Tracy and Hepburn film. Sorvino chimes in at times with persistence and some humor (such as going out to walk the dog and returning without the dog), which makes up for an otherwise quiet supporting cast. While this can be an amusing little film with some useful views on looking transparently at a love affair, one always gets the feeling that there is something missing to really make it mean something. Sometimes one cares about the situations with these folks, and other times you are left there shrugging your shoulders, as if it somehow couldn't quite balance comedy and drama for 106 minutes. It is like if a 1940s script escaped from the lab and only changed its pants before it got caught. Does it even matter to know how their affair will turn out? Is it really something with meaningful realism if it comes off as a fitting capstone of mediocrity for a film? Of course I fall into the line that seeing someone with wife and children having an affair only to eat crow by having the affair fall flat is amusing enough, as opposed to seeing them somehow get away with it. This is a film that only seems to be there 70% of the time to make fair wit and a look upon the pitfalls of falling in love - the ultimate take-it-or-leave-it film fitting perhaps with other mediocre romances like Love Affair (1939) with a capable pair in search of much more than they ultimately get.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Poseidon Adventure.

Review #1442: The Poseidon Adventure.

Cast: 
Gene Hackman (Reverend Frank Scott), Ernest Borgnine (Detective Lieutenant Mike Rogo), Red Buttons (James Martin), Carol Lynley (Nonnie Parry), Roddy McDowall (Acres), Stella Stevens (Linda Rogo), Shelley Winters (Belle Rosen), Jack Albertson (Manny Rosen), Pamela Sue Martin (Susan Shelby), Arthur O'Connell (Chaplain John), Eric Shea (Robin Shelby), Leslie Nielsen (Captain Harrison), and Fred Sadoff (Linarcos) Directed by Ronald Neame (#673 - Scrooge and #1204 - Meteor)

Review: 
"I suffer along with them. We have many story conferences. As a writer/director/producer, I have triple agonies. I'm bucking to be known as the most sympathetic producer in town."

Oh sure, there were plenty of films to pick from that had an independent streak with directors and stars in the 1970s, but let us not forget about the films that followed the lines of all-star casts that came from previous decades. In this case, the all-star cast format came in the disaster movie genre, one that is just as prevalent in generating spectacle as other genres. Airport (1970) was the start of a whole new era of disaster films, as it made over $100 million upon release that was followed by three sequels before the decade ended. Who better to further the genre than Irwin Allen, the "Master of Disaster"? After all, he had already mastered the hand of producing/directing in television and film with projects such as The Sea Around Us (1953, an Academy Award winning documentary), Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1961, which became a hit 1964-68 series), and Lost in Space (1965-68). He would produce four further disaster films (with all but one in the 1970s) with The Towering Inferno (1974, about a fire in a tower), The Swarm (1978, involving killer bees), and Beyond the Poseidon Adventure (1979, which involved a return to the ship to recover treasures). The director who fell right into directing this film turned out to be a good one with Ronald Neame (after Gordon Douglas stepped off). He had been a cinematographer in British films starting in the 1930s before taking a hand at producing (Cineguild, with David Lean and Anthony Havelock-Allan) in the late 1940s that moved to directing with Take My Life (1947). Although he did not find the final result to be one to be proud of, he did describe it as his favorite film in that it gave him plenty of "F.U. money".

I suppose one reason for my curiosity with this film (based on the 1969 novel of the same name by Paul Gallico) was seeing how all of these stars would match up with each other, considering there are five Oscar-winning actors here (Hackman, Borgnine, Winters, Albertson, Buttons) alongside a mish-mash of supporting actors with melodramatic turns and plenty of spectacle. The result is one of the most ridiculously enjoyable films to ever sit through, one that is soapier than Grand Hotel (1932), with actors that did a majority of their own stunts that makes one think they are watching a P.E. competition. It is like going to a restaurant and asking everyone about who they were and what they liked to do and then going back to eat something you know is overstuffed but eating it anyway because you just need that experience (or getting a kick, I suppose), regrets be darned. Hackman leads this disaster squad with plenty of unorthodox spirit and candor to go with it that makes for an fair rapport with the equally blustery Borgnine who is charmingly rough around the edges. The others fall around the lines you could see coming from their opening moments, such as the quiet haberdasher Buttons that proves resourceful when paired with a nervous Lynley, or a gloomy but game Winters (who apparently gained 30 pounds for a role that requires her to do a swimming sequence). Others like Albertson, Stevens and Shea have smaller parts to play, but they do their best in making a good time with convenience (whether that means a quick remark or not), and this also includes short trips with McDowall (switching accents as a waiter, I kid you not) and a sternly useful Nielsen (an actor with standing even before hitting it bigger with comedy). One is here to see some fiery action, and they do generally pay off well, starting with the crash that starts all the fun (complete with a massive fall onto a light in an upside down dining room, a tremendous stunt to see). It is executed well with a fine look of despair and water to keep things sinking through for 117 minutes with plenty of moments that can make your head agape for better or worse (the question one generally associates with that would be "Wait, what?" in my view). It's funny, I had heard of the song "The Morning After" a number of times before seeing this film, but I didn't actually realize that it was performed in this film first (written by Al Kasha and Joel Hirschhorn), which was apparently written in one night. Oh sure, it's a terrible song (cheesy but annoyingly catchy), but it found a following and ended up winning an Academy Award for its songwriters. The additional Academy Award won by the film (which snagged eight nominations, mostly technical) was for its visual effects from L. B. Abbott and A. D. Flowers. A sequel followed a few years later, and there were two remakes (one for television, one theatrical), but none have really matched the sheer lasting power of this, one with plenty of silliness alongside enjoyment to go for an era like this.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Jeremiah Johnson.

Review #1441: Jeremiah Johnson.

Cast: 
Robert Redford (Jeremiah Johnson), Will Geer (Bear Claw Chris Lapp), Stefan Gierasch (Del Gue), Delle Bolton (Swan), Josh Albee (Caleb), Joaquín Martínez (Paints His Shirt Red), Allyn Ann McLerie (The Crazy Woman), Paul Benedict (Reverend Lindquist), Jack Colvin (Lieutenant Mulvey), Matt Clark (Qualen), Richard Angarola (Chief Two-Tongues Lebreaux), and Charles Tyner (Robidoux) Directed by Sydney Pollack (#084 - Tootsie)

Review: 
"Timing is a big thing with actors. You don't ever want to over-rehearse, but you don't want them under-prepared either. Part of the trick is knowing when to roll the cameras. So many times I'll see a performance peak during the rehearsal process and they never quite get it back. That's why I'd rather be rolling early."

"Storytellers broaden our minds: engage, provoke, inspire, and ultimately, connect us."

It never fails to turn to a new face for a film experience, whether for the 1970s or for versatility when it comes to directors or actors. It should only prove fitting to showcase a film involving lifelong friends in director Sydney Pollack and Robert Redford, who each experienced success in their own fields both with and without each other. This was the second of seven collaborations between Pollack and Redford (the first one being in Pollack's second feature This Property Is Condemned six years prior). Redford had his debut in the stage in 1959 while starting work on television as a guest the following year, while Pollack started studying theatre acting in 1952 with appearances in television starting in 1956. The two would meet up together in 1960 on the production of War Hunt (1962), which was the major acting film debut for both actors, and they would become life-long friends. The key to wanting to become a director came in 1961 when Pollack worked on The Young Savages as a dialogue coach, as he was encouraged by its star Burt Lancaster to try his hand at directing. He soon found television work to direct while cutting back on his acting appearances, and he received his first film to direct with The Slender Thread (1965). Redford (who would become a noted director in his own right) described him as a director with an ability to "connect the more commercial strain with the more abstract", one who could work with stars and make a film with wit that could differ from the usual commercial fare. Pollack would direct over twenty projects over the next four decades while also having a hand in producing (and occasionally acting) in them before his death in 2008, with notable films including They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (1969), Tootsie (1982, director/co-producer/actor), Out of Africa (1985, director/co-producer that garnered him two Academy Awards), and The Firm (1993, director/co-producer). 

The film is based on two works: Crow Killer: The Saga of Liver-Eating Johnson (written by Raymond Thorp and Robert Bunker) that detailed the life of John Jeremiah Johnson and Vardis Fisher's novel Mountain Man, which was a fictional work inspired by the exploits of Johnson. He was a man who went through many professions, such as sailor, trapper, and even deputy (although obviously the film is based on just the trapper experiences). The film was adapted to the screen by Edward Anhalt (co-writer of Panic in the Streets along with other films with and without his wife Edna) and John Milius (whose most notable writing credit was The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean earlier in the year). It should only figure that Redford would be involved in a film like this (which he considers his favorite), one with a mountain man that seeks out the nature of the land (shot mostly in Utah, which Redford had bought his own ski area), a western of the wilderness with a careful pace and tremendous visual style to tell a worthwhile experience that will hopefully leave the viewer with some sort of appreciation for the loner in all of us or at least for the environment for which one can (and should) take time to view and breathe in all of its strange qualities. Redford lives up to the challenge of a role that requires a patient actor to suffer through the coldness of the land and reality with conviction and understanding. It is a role for the actor that wants to make something of themselves to make a mythic role their own with no pretentions. Geer and Gierasch make for colorful standouts among a carefully collected supporting cast that build a myth of nature and revenge with pathos and good timing. At 116 minutes (including overture and intermission), it makes for a fair sit to go through at least once, filled with wide open moments to see Redford and a landscape worth viewing for some quality entertainment as a wilderness western fitting for its era and the people who featured prominently in it.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

A Clockwork Orange.

Review #1440: A Clockwork Orange.

Cast: 
Malcolm McDowell (Alex DeLarge), Patrick Magee (Mr Frank Alexander), Michael Bates (Chief Guard Barnes), Warren Clarke (Dim), John Clive (Stage Actor), Adrienne Corri (Mrs Mary Alexander), Carl Duering (Dr Brodsky), Paul Farrell (Tramp), Clive Francis (Joe the Lodger), Michael Gover (Prison Governor), Miriam Karlin (Catlady), James Marcus (Georgie), Aubrey Morris (P. R. Deltoid), Godfrey Quigley (Prison Chaplain), Sheila Raynor (Mum), Madge Ryan (Dr Branom), Anthony Sharp (Frederick, Minister of the Interior), and Philip Stone (Dad) Produced and Directed by Stanley Kubrick (#044 - Full Metal Jacket, #065 - The Shining, #093 - 2001: A Space Odyssey, #1046 - Barry Lyndon, and #1301 - Dr. Strangelove)

Review: 
"I have always enjoyed dealing with a slightly surrealistic situation and presenting it in a realistic manner. I've always liked fairy tales and myths, magical stories. I think they are somehow closer to the sense of reality one feels today than the equally stylized "realistic" story in which a great deal of selectivity and omission has to occur in order to preserve its "realist" style."

Stanley Kubrick made thirteen feature films in his career, and it is interesting to note the numerous distinct genres that they all fall into, whether that meant anti-war (such as Paths of Glory), or film noir (The Killing), or period drama (Spartacus) or comedy-drama (Lolita), all the while having a touch and patience of a chess player in creating such tremendous interesting films to view. Kubrick had an interest in photography and film from a young age, and he was hired by Look magazine after he graduated high school. He would later develop interest in making his own films, which he started with Day of the Fight (1951), a short documentary that survives among two others Kubrick did before making his feature debut with Fear and Desire (1953). Over the next 46 years, Kubrick would develop numerous films that received attention and tremendous praise, and it should prove no surprise that this film is a masterpiece - one with discipline with madness and a great lead performance from Malcolm McDowell. Kubrick was inspired to cast McDowell in the film after seeing him in Lindsay Anderson's influential if... (1968), and he stated that if he could not have hired McDowell that he wouldn't have done the film at all.

If one needs to think of the context for comparing a film that is nearly a half century old to the films that purvey our screens, just remember that this was actually released by a major studio - Warner Brothers of all ones. Of all the provocative films that rocked a decade of grime and paranoia, A Clockwork Orange certainly stands out as one for its age. It was adapted from the novel of the same name by composer/writer/linguist/critic Anthony Burgess, who had written it in 1962 with a good deal of it written with a unique jargon named "Nadsat", which was Russian-influenced English to depict a subculture of young people in a dystopian society focused on extreme violence and the exploits of Alex from ultraviolence to reformation. There exists two versions of the novel: The original British novel with 21 chapters that ended with Alex deciding on his own free will to give up a life of senseless crime and violence. When brought to American publishers, they felt that the last chapter needed to be taken out as audiences would not go for this decision, so it was omitted (which proved the case for the next two decades of publication for American audiences). Burgess described that version and the film as like a fable while describing his original book as a novel with a "quality of genuine fiction". Kubrick described it as an extra chapter that he hadn't read until after he had written the screenplay, stating that it was "unconvincing and inconsistent with the style and intent of the book." Burgess had mixed feelings for the resulting adaptation (which was actually the second one done, after Andy Warhol's Vinyl six years earlier), particularly with the way it dealt with glorifying violence, stating it as making it easy for book readers to misunderstand what it was all about.

One wonders how a film like this ever got made, one with such creeping power that other films can only dare to try and defy in the following years. Others may have more blood or more frightening imagery, but there is just something about this one particular film that grips your attention as if it was some sort of disturbing hypnosis that can make you wince or laugh at its black comedy roots. It isn't all ultraviolence nor all funny but a film with a madman point of view that is handled with discipline and tremendous style. One is pulled in immediately with McDowell to observe and hear in each and every scene that shows his bold depravity that we cannot but keep thinking about now more than ever. Whether through singing "Singin' in the Rain" through a rape scene or trying to repress his violent urges, McDowell excels in conviction as someone we can't help but observe in showing what it means to have their free will challenged. Magee and Bates both do well on the sides of dogmatic reactionaries to our main focus, with the former proving a cynical foil while the latter provides blustery bluster that keeps our attention. Others have brief moments that they utilize quite well for us to observe when interacting with McDowell, whether that involves ultraviolence or not.

There is a reasonable pace of 136 minutes, carefully weaving its way through dark moments (if one can get through the opening 25 minutes, you can get through anything) with irony. We are talking about a movie that has someone killed by a phallus statue that cuts to a painting at the key moment, after all. Granted, one could have discomfort over its violent nature, because what seems like just a movie for John Q. Public isn't exactly going to provoke intelligent thought from someone who only sees the violence and nothing else (which can also prove the case with a number of satires). It's up to the viewer to assess how much it works on the satiric level about free will or violence. The argument over whether violence in film and television can have an effect on the viewer to do said violence is still something we talk about five decades later (as if violence begets more violence), particularly for a film that was pulled from release in Britain (which linked the film as an impetus for a spring of copycat crimes) just two years after release upon request of Kubrick. The US release was originally rated X, but a few subsequent small cuts by Kubrick led to an R rating, although it should be noted that current releases contain the original version (ironically enough with an R-rating). Regardless of how one thinks of the violence, it cannot be denied that this is an intensely great film, one free to do madness at its own choice that excels because of Kubrick and McDowell, a magnificently uncomfortable experience with strokes of genius in satire and dystopia that will linger with its audience long after they find themselves observing it.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Straw Dogs.

Review #1439: Straw Dogs.

Cast: 
Dustin Hoffman (David Sumner), Susan George (Amy Sumner), Peter Vaughan (Tom Hedden), T. P. McKenna (Major John Scott), Del Henney (Charlie Venner), Jim Norton (Chris Cawsey), Donald Webster (Phil Riddaway), Ken Hutchison (Norman Scutt), Len Jones (Bobby Hedden), Sally Thomsett (Janice Hedden), Robert Keegan (Harry Ware), Peter Arne (John Niles), and David Warner (Henry Niles) Directed by Sam Peckinpah (#590 - Ride the High Country, #591 - The Wild Bunch, and #944 - Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid)

Review: 
"Well, killing a man isn't clean and quick and simple. It's bloody and awful. And maybe if enough people come to realize that shooting somebody isn't just fun and games, maybe we'll get somewhere."

Sam Peckinpah was a combative troubled man, but he sure was a director with potential that had the capability to make a film worth watching and discussing in all of its nitty gritty details, which is why he would soon earn the nickname "Bloody Sam". He spent his young years spending time with his brother and grandfather on a ranch doing activities such as trapping before serving in the US Marine Corps. He studied drama and history while in college in Fresno, California and became interested in directing by the time of graduation in 1948 and subsequent attendance of the University of Southern California for the next four years. He drifted between jobs such as stagehand and theater work before getting his first film credit as dialogue coach for Don Siegel's Riot in Cell Block 11 (1954). Over the next few years, he would work in television, ranging from Gunsmoke to The Rifleman. In 1960, he would create The Westerner, which he would write (or direct) for eight of its thirteen episode run while also serving as producer. He stated that he wanted to "create a truly realistic saddle bum of the west." While the show wasn't successful, he was given a chance to direct a feature film with star Brian Keith in The Deadly Companions (1961), which he was tasked only to direct and not be involved with writing. His next film in Ride the High Country (1962) received more attention. He was a combative man that could be prone to mean streaks and self-destructive behavior along with visual talent that served to make a career with plenty of ups and downs. Years of addiction and hard living led to his death in 1984 at the age of 59, but he managed to have snagged one final directing job with The Osterman Weekend, which bookended a career in which he had written and directed twelve of his fourteen films, with his notable films being The Wild Bunch (1969), Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973; its restoration has received praise in recent years), Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia (1974, which he said was the only film released the way he wanted), and Convoy (1978, his biggest audience success).

The film was very loosely based on the novel The Siege of Trencher's Farm by Gordon Williams. The only key thing that they share is the siege for the climax, where even the names and motivations of the main characters are different. Perhaps it isn't surprising as Peckinpah described it as a "rotten book" that he and David Zelag Goodman had to make something out of, where even the title was changed (straw dogs are ceremonial figures made out of straw used in ancient China usually thrown away after being used). This is a complicated film to think about. On the one hand, the climax does prove shocking and provocative in its edge of violence that make for a tremendously grimy twenty minutes. On the other hand, it is also one of those films where one really needs to have the patience to sit through such a visceral film of human nature when one is threatened within. This might be a shock, but the violence isn't the part I have a contention with when it comes to this film. Honestly The Wild Bunch seemed a bit more shocking in its power with depicting violence, and that was two years prior. Maybe it just depends on how many films one watches over the years, particularly when it comes to films about people pushed a bit too far. While there was a mix of conventional films of musicals and dramas, 1971 also featured provocative works such as The French Connection, Dirty Harry, and A Clockwork Orange. If you want to leave a film with feelings of discomfort, Straw Dogs sure seems prescient for that requirement, and perhaps it serves as a precursor to the following decades when it comes to grim films that might have their audience flinch first. Whether the film is trying to make a statement about violence or about physicality vs. intellect when faced with savagery or something about the nature of man within classes, I must admit that it is moderately successful in driving its viewer up the wall in curiosity at what they see and think whether they are gnashing their teeth or not.

Hoffman is an interesting choice for a pacifist-on-paper role, which proves to a fine turn with plenty of dedication that never seems inauthentic despite playing such a bully in sheep's clothing. Of all of these murky characters, it proves to be George that proves the warmest to follow with, where we care about her sincerity about who she is to herself and others, which results in pain alongside everybody else. Among the mix of European character actors that make up the rest of the film, Vaughan serves the best in displaying bitter edge within a hard life while McKenna makes for passive authority. It should prove no surprise that the film was given a short stick by critics in its time, with the original 117 minute version even having a few cuts made with regards to the rape scene (the second one was just as controversial). Perhaps it really isn't surprising that a remake would be done four decades later, which apparently seemed to emphasize the violence, which seems like a mistake. I can't say I really liked the film, but I understand it. While this is certainly a film with plenty of unsettling images that make for a gloomy little film, it does a fair job in building its tension within its beasts of human nature that make it worth a discussion in Peckinpah's library of work, for better or worse.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The French Connection.

Review #1438: The French Connection.

Cast: 
Gene Hackman (Det. Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle), Fernando Rey (Alain "Frog One" Charnier), Roy Scheider (Det. Buddy "Cloudy" Russo), Tony Lo Bianco (Salvatore "Sal" Boca), Marcel Bozzuffi (Pierre Nicoli), Frédéric de Pasquale (Henri Devereaux), and Bill Hickman (Bill Mulderig) Directed by William Friedkin (#037 - The Exorcist)

Review: 
"If you're going to make a film or an album of music or a painting, you cannot afford to stop and think what other people will think of it. You've got to take into consideration what your editor thinks, if, say, you're a writer. But I don't have anyone to answer to. I make a film because I want to. Sometimes they're successful, sometimes they're not, but the way I think about my films is always very personal." - William Friedkin

"Acting was something I wanted to do since I was 10 and saw my first movie, I was so captured by the action guys. Jimmy Cagney was my favorite. Without realizing it, I could see he had tremendous timing and vitality." - Gene Hackman

All decades could be studied for their grittiness, but perhaps no decade had it more interesting than the 1970s. After a decade of shifting in Hollywood and within the culture, it only figures that some of the best films from this era would be ones with tinges of moral ambiguity and raw disenchantment of the angry young man, where law and order was a catchphrase rather than a show. Accordingly, it should only make sense that the first R-rated film to win an Academy Award for Best Picture would be The French Connection, based on the non-fiction book by Robin Moore released two years prior. Produced by 20th Century Fox, it featured the pursuit by two detectives (inspired by actual detectives Eddie Egan and Sonny Grosso, who both served as technical advisors in the film) of the New York Police Department of a substance smuggler in New York City. It should prove fitting that such a frank and urgent film came from a director with humble backgrounds in William Friedkin. The Chicago native was the son of a salesman and nurse that grew into becoming interested in films in his teenage years, viewing films such as Les Diaboliques, Psycho, and Citizen Kane (the last being the one to cement his love for the cinema). He went from working in the WGN-TV mail room to directing live TV shows and documentaries when he was 18, starting with The People vs. Paul Crump (1962). Incidentally, one documentary that Friedkin directed was The Thin Blue Line (1966), which focused on the police force and problems of combating increased crime. He started his feature film career with Good Times (1967), which featured Sonny and Cher in a comedy musical western. Of his first four films, only The Night They Raided Minsky's (1968) proved any success with audiences or critics. And yet here he is, directing a film under the production of Philip D'Antoni, who had previously produced Bullitt (1968) for Fox only after several rejections and a small budget of $1.8 million dollars. There were a few follow-ups to this film of sorts. The Seven-Ups (1973) was directed by D'Antoni  while having Scheider as the main star as a tough-guy cop with Grosso as technical advisor and Bill Hickman back as stunt coordinator. French Connection II (1975) was a fictional sequel directed by John Frankenheimer that had Hackman and Rey return to their roles that was a mild success.

Of all the unlikely things, Hackman not being the first, second or even third choice must rank high up the list. Famed newspaper columnist Jimmy Breslin was actually in the running at one point in time (he would lose out in light of his inability to drive), while Jackie Gleason was thought to be bad for box office with the failure of Gigot (1962), and Peter Boyle disapproved of the violent themes. Hackman, who was known for supporting roles such as Bonnie and Clyde (1967) and I Never Sang for My Father (1970) after going from the Pasadena Playhouse to doorman-between-acting, was found at the last moment. Similarly, Scheider had just a few small roles to his credit before this film (along with Klute) helped rise him to stardom. To have the actors get a feel for the cops they would portray, they patrolled with Egan and Grosso for a month. One can see that this proved effective in making for tremendous performances from Hackman and Scheider in how grizzled and hard-edged they prove for a film that serves as a key point for police procedural films for its era. Hackman proves especially great in showing the maniacal drive and act that one seems to need to have to be on the beat to take a criminal down on and off the clock with intensity, while Scheider follows along with measured conviction; probably the best sequence with the two is their first, with them chasing a criminal down the street that turns into questioning with offbeat fervor from Hackman ("Did you ever pick your feet in Poughkeepsie?") in a Santa suit. Rey (who came into international status with collaborations with Orson Welles and Luis Bunuel films in the 1960s and 1970s) is elegantly devious to fit this cat-and-mouse game of cops and drug kingpins without trouble. Boca and the others (including Egan and Grosso in brief roles) fill in the gritted atmosphere of thrills and action fitting to be talked about as a neo noir. Perhaps having Shaft writer Ernest Tidyman behind this screenplay helps in making this 104-minute film really tick with tension and competence. It might seem quaint to the eyes of those who have encountered plenty of procedurals in the near half century since release, but one has to start somewhere with grimy gripping films like this. The chase sequence (which had a mix of Hackman and stunt driver Hickman driving) is excellent to see play out in real traffic between a car and a train with careful angles and a poster-worthy showdown moment to boot. By the time it gets to its bittersweet finale, one knows they have watched an interesting film with plenty of looks and sounds of New York City from an era long ago with documentary-style filming from Friedkin that serves the film well in driving one up the wall and never letting things go too easily. As a whole, This is a film with a controlled obsession of sordid realism that makes for a classic of the age that had people like Hackman and Friedkin deservingly reap the rewards of for the rest of the era.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

The Abominable Dr. Phibes.

Review #1437: The Abominable Dr. Phibes.

Cast: 
Vincent Price (Dr. Anton Phibes), Joseph Cotten (Dr. Vesalius), Peter Jeffrey (Inspector Harry Trout), Virginia North (Vulnavia), Hugh Griffith (Rabbi), Terry-Thomas (Dr. Longstreet), Derek Godfrey (Crow), Norman Jones (Sgt. Tom Schenley), John Cater (Waverley), Aubrey Woods (Goldsmith), John Laurie (Darrow), and Maurice Kaufmann (Dr. Whitcombe) Directed by Robert Fuest.

Review: 
"I sometimes feel that I'm impersonating the dark unconscious of the whole human race. I know this sounds sick, but I love it."

Any time spent watching Vincent Price in a film is bound to be an interesting experience to watch, regardless of how the film as a whole turns out. This could also apply to films from American International Pictures, so it should only prove to be a match made in heaven to see Price in one of their films, having appeared in numerous films with the company since House of Usher (1960, the first of the eight Edgar Allen Poe stories adapted into films, which featured Price in seven of them). Price originally had an interest in fine arts (intending to study for a master's degree in the subject), but he soon found himself drawn to the theater, and he debuted in 1935. He is known for his horror work, but he had a versatile range that started from his character work in his films (starting in 1938), which could be in noir thrillers and comedy while also doing radio and television work. Although his career veered a bit towards stage and voicework with the 1970s, there was still room for Price to keep busy with film (fun fact: he also was an avid art collector and gourmet chef). Incidentally, Price would star in Theatre of Blood (1973), which was also a revenge story involving elaborate murders (in this case an actor emulating murder scenes from the plays of William Shakespeare). At the helm of director was set designer-turned-director Fuest, who would work on films such as And Soon the Darkness (1970) and the follow-up Dr. Phibes Rises Again (1972).

One has an interesting time with a horror revenge film with shades of dark comedy in its methods of madness. The method of the killer this time around? Oh just the ten plagues of ancient times, which lend themselves to amusingly dark highlights such as a man being killed by a mechanical frog mask or being speared by a brass unicorn head horn. In a film that runs at 94 minutes, it certainly is interesting to have Price remain silent for the first third of the film (complete with an eerie voiceless intro), so he is mostly relying on his facial expressions with occasional moments of (literally) phone-in speech. In that sense, this makes for a performance worth viewing from Price. He might be playing a character that wants to bring about the plague to certain doctors, but it doesn't mean Price is playing just for hammy evil moments - he actually does a pretty creepy job for a role that he reportedly found to be very funny (to the point where he giggled and laughed while having plastic makeup on, which made it dissolve time and time again). The other actors stand fine with rolling in the quick paced black comedy, revolving from the strait-laced and composed Cotten to the effectively serious Jeffrey and Jones with not falling to all the bumbling stereotypes of authority. North makes a solemn but sound accompanying figure to the action. A lesser director would have likely presented the material broadly without subtlety or style, but Fuest (who re-wrote a significant part of the original screenplay that was done by James Whiton and William Goldstein) seems to have a touch for making dark ideas come out with their own sense of beauty. There is some creepy moments of horror that are spread out fine without dwelling on too much gore or seeming too tame for its time. On the whole, this is a serviceable film worthy for any purveyor of some creepy horror with a few chuckles alongside the madness with one fun actor in Price to make this a cult gem worth considering in its era.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Garden of the Finzi-Continis.

Review #1436: The Garden of the Finzi-Continis.

Cast: 
Lino Capolicchio (Giorgio), Dominique Sanda (Micòl), Helmut Berger (Alberto), Fabio Testi (Malnate), Romolo Valli (Giorgio's Father), Camillo Cesarei (Micòl's Father), Inna Alexeievna (Micòl's Grandmother), Katina Morisani (Micòl's Mother), and Barbara Pilavin (Giorgio's mother) Directed by Vittorio De Sica.

Review: 
"I am basically an unhappy man. Life gives me always the impression of cruelty. I read the newspaper - crimes, murders, divorces, and so on. I do not find evidence of sincerity or solidarity there. I love humanity, I trust humanity, but humanity has a way of disillusioning me. The pictures I direct are nearly always melancholy. This comes from the contrast between my love and my disillusion. I am an optimist. I love life. I seek perfection. If my art seems pessimistic, it is a consequence of my continuing optimism and its disillusion. At least I have enthusiasm. It is necessary to all professions to have enthusiasm in order to have success."

De Sica had an early career in film and Neapolitan singing in amateur entertainments (with his first film credit being a short appearance in 1917). He took study in accounting and military service before taking a job in the theater, and he gradually became a matinee idol by the time of the 1930s through going from clowns to leading romantic comedy roles. In 1935, he starred in the film I'll Give a Million, which happened to be the first writing credit for Cesare Zavattini, a future collaborator with De Sica on three decades of writing. Five years later he would take up directing with Red Roses [Rose scarlatte], co-directing with Giuseppe Amato. His first triumph was with Shoeshine [Sciuscià] (1946), a classic of Italian neorealism, which were generally characterized by exploring the poor and working class of Italy (on location) and the difficult conditions of post-World War II on a economical or moral level with typically non-professional actors. This film, alongside Bicycle Thieves [Ladri di biciclette] (1948) and Umberto D. (1952, De Sica's favorite of his films) are generally referred to as neorealism classics of De Seca, with the former two garnering Honorary Academy Awards and praise (moreso abroad than with Italy, with certain audiences decrying his portrait of Italian life). He would with directing along with acting appearances (most notably with A Farewell to Arms in 1957) throughout the rest of his life before his death in 1974 of surgery due to lung cancer. In his career, he would direct over 30 films (with some shorts done for anthologies) over a 34-year run that led to critical attention from audiences at times that garnered four total Academy Awards (two honorary and two for Best International Film for Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow and this film).

The film was adapted from the 1962 novel of the same name by Giorgio Bassani, who wrote numerous novels of the experiences of Italian Jews during the time before and during World War II. There is a tragic nature to a film rife with mood and memory of a time long past, of lost affection and lost places gone to the ravages of prejudice and the passing of all things that wither all gardens. One can't escape everything through a stone wall, really, though the garden never seems to be out of our focus for too long. It isn't the easiest film to approach, but I give it credit for keeping its integrity through 94 minutes without seeming too maudlin to view for world cinema. The youthful quartet that make up the film were all in their first few roles, such as Capolicchio (known for television work prior to 1968), Sanda (a French actress and model making her Italian debut), or Testi (stunt-man-turned-actor starting in 1968), or Berger (later known for his amoral/sensually ambiguous characters in European cinema). Each do their part in generating a curious tale, starting with Capolicchio and his observant eyes that make for a caring soul to follow with. Sanda reins in a performance wracked with allure and mystique that draws one in to her garden of life that grows and withers with others for effect. Testi and Berger do just as well in accompanying the action with wilting and desire, respectively. In the end, this is a fair movie to pick through with people that ultimately fall prey to time with De Sica's encompassing and haunting work with plenty to think about with romance and death.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Twelve Chairs.

Review #1435: The Twelve Chairs.

Cast: 
Ron Moody (Ippolit Matveyevich Vorobyaninov), Frank Langella (Ostap Bender), Dom DeLuise (Father Fyodor), Andreas Voutsinas (Nikolai Sestrin), Diana Coupland (Madame Bruns), David Lander (Engineer Bruns), Vlada Petric (Sevitsky), Elaine Garreau (Claudia Ivanovna), Robert Bernal (Curator), Will Stampe (Night watchman), and Mel Brooks (Tikon) Directed by Mel Brooks (#061 - Blazing Saddles, #198 - Spaceballs, #248 - Robin Hood: Men in Tights, #361 - The Producers, #364 - High Anxiety, #623 - Silent Movie, and #655 - Young Frankenstein, and #1120 - History of the World, Part I)

Review: 
“Every human being has hundreds of separate people living under his skin. The talent of a writer is his ability to give them their separate names, identities, personalities and have them relate to other characters living with him.”

Mel Brooks was inspired to become an entertainer after seeing a Broadway show at the age of 9. He worked as a drummer and pianist for years (with World War II service in the middle of said career) before soon moving his way to stand-up and comedy writing. He was one of the writers hired to work on Sid Caesar's revolutionary variety series Your Show of Shows in 1950 (which ran for four years), and he would continue working for Caesar on his successor show Caesar's Hour (1954-57). When it came to successful comedy directors in the 1970s, one particular name that is high on the list to mention first is Mel Brooks, fresh off a decade in which he helped to develop the hit TV series Get Smart, a comedy routine (The 2000 Year-Old Man) and a modest hit with The Producers (1968). One can go on about classic moments of farce and parody in his movies for the 1970s such as Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein. Of the five films he directed in the decade, those are his best ones, but the other three are just as entertaining and amusing in their own right, although this was the only one to not be commercially successful. This was his second directorial effort, which was adapted from the 1928 novel of the same name by Soviet prose authors Ilf and Petrov. There have been numerous adaptations of the novel (before and after this film), with the previous American adaptation (more so inspired by rather than adapting) being It's in the Bag (1945), who reduced the chair count to five. The ending for the film was considerably lightened up from the book (which had killed one of the main characters off and then had them return for a follow-up book years later).

For the main trio, Brooks had intended to cast Alistair Sim, Peter Sellers, and Albert Finney, though this did not come to pass. 1970 was the debut year for Langella in film (with the other film appearance being in Diary of a Mad Housewife), and he had found himself  cast through a recommendation by Anne Bancroft (Brooks' wife and an acclaimed actress in her own right), who had worked with Langella on the stage (where he had worked since 1963). It was he who had suggested to cast Moody, who was fresh off a run on London with the novel-turned-musical-turned-film Oliver! (1960 for stage; 1968 for film). Bancroft also recommended DeLuise, who had been featured in a few comedic stage and film roles that would make his first of ultimately five appearances in a Brooks film. Each rein in fairly interesting performances for a film that while not as broadly funny as other films in Brooks' career (past and future) is a worthwhile film to still check out. It is a movie of greed within a Russian fable (filmed in Yugoslavia) that makes its humor with a mix of subtlety and zaniness that makes for a useful 93 minute tale, right down to the opening song "Hope For The Best (Expect the Worst)", a cheeky little song (along with my favorite slogan). Moody does a fine job with timing that has his character go madder by the second, such as when he walks the tightrope for a chair. Langella makes a fair straight man with his own degree of greed that accompanies Moody with calm for a film all about tearing up chairs for money through the eyes of 1920s in the Soviet Union. DeLuise is the most evident in generating amusement with his big expressions and wild spirit that makes the most frenzy for a calmly amusing experience. In the end, this is a fine piece about greed and the people that try to make a living on obtaining a slice of something better than what they have, or just living on what they don't have. There are quite a bit of sight gags and subtlety to be had here that makes for a fair piece in the famed career of Mel Brooks and the stars that are featured in this comedy of chairs.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Patton.

Review #1434: Patton.

Cast: 
George C. Scott (Major General George S. Patton), Karl Malden (Major General Omar N. Bradley), Michael Bates (General Bernard Montgomery), Edward Binns (Lieutenant General Walter Bedell Smith), Lawrence Dobkin (Colonel Gaston Bell), John Doucette (Major General Lucian Truscott), James Edwards (Sergeant William George Meeks), Frank Latimore (Lieutenant Colonel Henry Davenport), Richard Münch (Colonel General Alfred Jodl), Morgan Paull (Captain Richard N. Jenson), Siegfried Rauch (Captain Oskar Steiger), and Paul Stevens (Lieutenant Colonel Charles R. Codman) Directed by Franklin J. Schaffner (#347 - Planet of the Apes and #580 - The Best Man)

Review: 
Acting changes the inner spirit. It's fulfilling, but psychologically very costly. You can't steal enough money in a lifetime to make up for the damage. I'm ashamed for the bitterness it created in me, but it exists. Even when you're successful it's hard to rise above it. It's like a growth.


Perhaps it is not too hyperbolic to describe this as the military biopic to try and end all military biopics. The director responsible for such a grand portrait of a man bigger than life was Franklin J. Schaffner, a veteran of World War II for the Navy that worked for over a decade in television with programs such as such as Studio One and Playhouse 90 before adding films to his repertoire with The Stripper (1963). This film proved to be the pinnacle of his career, although he had (and would make) other noted films such as The Best Man (1964), Planet of the Apes (1968) and Papillon (1973). Adapting the larger-than-life general to the screen was a long process, not helped by being denied access to Patton's diaries. Francis Ford Coppola and Edmund H. North would write the script based on two works: Patton: Ordeal and Triumph from Ladislas Farago (a Hungarian military historian and journalist) and A Soldier's Story, written by Omar Bradley (General of the Army and consultant for the film). At the helm as star was George C. Scott, who made a name for himself on stage, television and supporting roles in film starting in 1958 that eventually grew into further prominent work by the time the 1960s had ended. He had acquired the part after Rod Steiger rejected it (he stated that he did not want to glorify war, but he subsequently called it his "dumbest career move"), with this serving as the role Scott became best known for in his career, and he would later return to the role in a TV movie The Last Days of Patton sixteen years later. Schaffner, Coppola, North, and Patton would each win an Academy Award for their work (although Scott would famously refuse to accept the award, having objected to the voting process and competition for actors as a whole).

One thing that can immediately be said about the film that applies to Scott as well is the fact that neither ever seem to flinch for 170 minutes. Whether one sees an enigma with the person portrayed on screen or not, one cannot deny the gripping performance from Scott, who is relentless in conviction and stature that springs right from the opening scene with the speech to the Third Army, standing right by an American flag. The sequence (which utilized statements from the actual speech, albeit toned down in language) is a magnificent way to open the film, filled with no-nonsense bluster and rallying spirit for a war movie made in the midst of another war (perhaps one can infer something from this, as was the case with the other hit war film in M*A*S*H, which was beaten in the race for Best Picture at the Academy Awards that year). One doesn't think about the other members of the cast much when it comes to a film like this, nor do they really think about all the history leading up to Patton being where he is as the man of the moment - one might even believe that Scott and Patton have melded together to make for one encompassing performance that we care for in all of its imperfect perfections. Probably the one person who makes for substantial screen time to follow alongside Scott is Malden, who makes for a reserved but dignified contrast when he shows up from time to time, while the others fill their parts with care that don't fall prey to the contrivances that can sometimes pop up in a biopic (of course this is a movie that covers Patton from just 1943-1945). The battle sequences certainly work out in terms of scope, no doubt aided by being filmed in 65mm Dimension 150 and Jerry Goldsmith's sweeping musical score. While a film will never completely tell the tale of any one man (particularly one as colorful as Patton), this one manages to draw a composed picture on its subject with bombast and precision, which work out most of the time as an enigmatic but involving epic for the era.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.