Awards Contenders In Brief: La La Land

So you may have noticed that I don't really do reviews on this blog. Which may have struck you as somewhat strange, given that this is a movie blog and all.

The simple fact of the matter is, writing a full review, for me, takes a LOT of time. I endlessly obsess over wording and details and getting things perfect. And in the end, I'd much rather spend that time WATCHING movies, especially since there are so many I haven't seen.

But I DO post short review-like things on my Letterboxd page, so read some of my past ones there. Going forward, I'm going to try to post those here, under this new "In Brief" label, so that I don't feel bound to write a full-length review.

So of course for the first of these, I'm going to pick a movie that I actually COULD write a full-length review of.

La La Land is, quite simply, my favorite film of the year. But let's be clear: Y'all know my nom de internet. And you'll know just from watching any of the trailers for this movie that have been released over the past couple of months that this movie was basically created in a lab specifically for me. So my naming it my favorite film of the year should come as absolutely come as no surprise, and should probably be taken with a grain of salt.

I really say all of this because I desperately don't want to oversell La La Land. It's fantastic, but it's also slight, and if you don't like movie musicals, this very likely won't be the one to change your mind - especially if you're immune to the charms of Emma Stone and/or Ryan Gosling (although, I personally don't understand how anyone could be, but I have been made to understand that somehow such people do exist).

I also desperately don't want to spoil this movie for anyone. Nothing else I experience for the rest of the year (I know it's only a couple of weeks but just go with me) will come close to matching the experience of seeing La La Land for the first time, so I want everyone else to enjoy it just as much as I did - by knowing nothing ahead of time except what the trailers told me.

So, here it goes: Gosling is Sebastian, a jazz pianist with dreams of opening his own jazz club. Stone is Mia, an aspiring actress working in a coffee shop on a studio lot. They meet and eventually fall in love. That's all I'm telling you of the plot. But the plot doesn't really matter. As with all the greatest movie musicals, what matters is the style with which the story is told, and La La Land is full to bursting with some of the greatest style of any movie released in quite some time. It pays homage to nearly every musical the Hollywood studio system ever produced, and takes direct inspiration from the single greatest movie musical ever made, Jacques Demy's The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. In so doing, it contains not one, not two, but three of the best single scenes of any film to be released in 2016, scenes of such bravura moviemaking magic that I actually applauded through tears in the theater.

Gosling and Stone have the chemistry of the greatest screen pairings - Hepburn & Tracy, Bogie & Bacall, Astaire & Rogers... to name a few - and that, along with their full-on charm offensive, is essential to making this movie work (it's almost impossible to imagine this working nearly as well with the original casting choices, Emma Watson and Miles Teller). It's a pleasure to watch them, because not only are they clearly enjoying themselves, not only do they make it look easy, but their faces are so open and honest that it's incredibly easy to feel for them. It's the kind of star power and chemistry that Old Hollywood used to cultivate with almost clockwork precision, but which has gone somewhat out of fashion nowadays. They also both have lovely, natural singing voices - they don't sound like professional singers, exactly, but the film is better off for it - and are wonderfully fluid dancers (bless Mandy Moore for her joyous choreography).

The score (music by Justin Hurwitz, lyrics by Benj Pasek & Justin Paul) is tuneful and romantic, with six original songs that you will be humming for weeks, and some lovely instrumental numbers. The film is as much about movie musicals as it is about anything else, so the music is very important. If I say that the film starts with its two weakest numbers, just know that they're still damn good, and each is shot so distinctively that it more than makes up for whatever the songs themselves are lacking.

I just... I have nothing bad to say about this film. Every single element works in perfect harmony together to create a perfect old-school movie experience. Everything about it has the look of one of the great MGM technicolor movie musicals, but it feels and sounds thoroughly modern. It is the perfect movie musical for the modern age - a perfect meeting of nostalgia with a contemporary sensibility. It is as much about the thrilling, transporting power of movie musicals as it is a perfect example of one, and as a lover of musicals, I couldn't possibly ask for anything more.

One week later, I'm still not over it. When my screening on opening night was over, I wanted to go straight to the box office and buy a ticket for the next available showing. I also wanted to go Monday after work, and also every day after that, because I just can't think of a better way to spend a little over two hours. And that's the highest praise I can give it.

LIST - Best of the Century(?) Thus Far

...so, the internet did that thing it does at least once a year again the other day, when The BBC published a critics' list of the Top 100 films of the 00s. They say "The 21st Century", I say "the 00s", because they include films from the year 2000 in the list, which is objectively incorrect (the century technically began in 2001), but who am I to argue?

Anyway, it's an interesting list, made more interesting when you look at the individual lists and notice that everyone was only allowed to choose 10 films. 10? Really? That's IT? Which of course begs such questions as, "People really think Movie X is one of the 10 BEST films SINCE 2000?!?"

But of course, these things always even out in the end, and the Top Ten at any rate is pretty unimpeachable (actually, I would only question one), even though you may quibble with the order. And in case you haven't heard, that order is:

1. Mulholland Drive (Lynch, 2001)
2. In The Mood for Love (Wong, 2000)
3. There Will Be Blood (Anderson, 2007)
4. Spirited Away (Hayao, 2001)
5. Boyhood (Linklater, 2014)
6. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Gondry, 2004)
7. The Tree of Life (Malick, 2011)
8. Yi Yi (Yang, 2000)
9. A Separation (Farhadi, 2011)
10. No Country for Old Men (Coens, 2007)

And of course, I looked at that list, said "Well, there's that. Everything seems to be in order here," and moved on with my day.

Except people wouldn't shut up about it, and I found myself in the position of feeling the need to come up with my own "corrective" Top Ten of the 00s just because everyone else was (jeez, peer pressure is really something, isn't it?). The shocking thing was, it came out rather easily. Almost too easily, actually. So I figured, why not post it on the blog and elaborate a bit? So strap yourselves in, folks! Here are my...

TOP TEN FILMS OF THE '00S

LIST: The Funniest Films

So, over at The Film Experience, Nathaniel posed the question to readers of what movies make us giggle the most. And honestly, I sort of randomly picked the first one that came into my head, but I could feel the floodgates opening, and then I had the kind of day at work today that made me need a really good laugh, so I decided to just do the damn thing and make a list! So here it is: My totally arbitrary, not at all thought through, probably missing a ton of titles, not in any particular order (but maybe it is...) list of....

THE FUNNIEST FILMS EVER

 1. The Thin Man (Van Dyke, 1934)

2. The Producers (Brooks, 1967)

3. Airplane! (Zucker/Abrams/Zucker, 1980)

4. Bringing Up Baby (Hawks, 1938)

5. Clue (Lynn, 1985)

6. A Shot in the Dark (Edwards, 1964)

7. Some Like It Hot (Wilder, 1959)

8. Waiting For Guffman (Guest, 1996)

9. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (Gilliam/Jones, 1975)

10. Young Frankenstein (Brooks, 1974)

...and more! After the break!

Thursday Movie Picks - Spanish-Language Movies

Written as part of the weekly blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. Join the party by picking three movies that fit the week's criteria and writing a bit about them - it's fun and easy!

I'll admit. This was a hard one. So many films I wanted to pick aren't technically in Spanish, but rather Portugese. And one that I was going to pick (Under the Same Moon), had a pretty good amount of English in it, too (but it's SO. GOOD. despite the fact that it was marketed like an utterly average, overly sentimental melodrama). I wish I had more knowledge of older Spanish films - there are plenty on my list (Spirit of the Beehive, Cria Cuervos..., The Exterminating Angel, etc.), but there are simply too many films and too little time, especially recently! So we had to go all recent this week, but if you haven't seen these, you really need to do so. ASAP.

Maria Full of Grace (Joshua Marston, 2004) Catalina Sandino Moreno deservedly got an Oscar nomination for her debut performance in this tight-as-a-drum thriller-cum-character study. Seventeen year-old Colombian Maria is working in what is basically a sweatshop to help support her family. When she dares to feel that she is being treated unfairly, she quits. And then finds out she's pregnant. And since she and her boyfriend don't love each other, she doesn't want to get married. What's a girl to do? Well, in this case, become a drug mule. Marston's incredible debut feature can be difficult to watch at times, but it is always compelling - both deeply humane and never, ever sentimental. Somehow, this works despite Marston (who also wrote the script) being about as far from the experiences of these characters as humanly possible. The film resists at every turn becoming an even slightly lesser version of itself, finding a perfect avatar in Sandino Moreno's perfect face, which remains hardened and implacable even as her eyes show you everything that's going on inside.

Timecrimes (Nacho Vigalondo, 2007) And now, for something completely different. Vigalondo's film follows an ordinary man who catches a mysterious bandaged man spying on him, and yadda yadda yadda ends up as the crux of a time travel paradox for the ages. Under close scrutiny, Timecrimes may fall apart just as most time travel tales do, but I actually think, given the explanations in the film's science, that it really may in fact hold together. But putting that aside for the moment, this is one hell of a ride, truly thrilling in every possible way. I'm honestly shocked an American version hasn't happened yet.

Undertow (Javier Fuentes-Léon, 2009) What would you do if you were forced to live a lie? To be with someone you may love, but not with your TRUE love? What would you do if your true love then died? And what would you do if they then came back to you as a ghost? From this conceit, Undertow spins pure cinematic gold. I can't say enough great things about this quietly gorgeous film. It is, quite simply, perfect.

Thursday Movie Picks - Androids/Cyborgs

Written as part of the weekly blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. You can participate yourself by picking three movies that fit the week's theme and telling us about them. It couldn't be easier!

Another drive-by week.... I got back to good ol' NYC late Monday night, and the big annual fundraising Gala at work is tonight! ACK! If only I was a robot, this would be a lot easier.

Which brings us to our theme this week! Here are three of my favorite androids/cyborgs.

Metropolis (Fritz Lang, 1927) This is THE ONE. The mother of all sci-fi movies. Evil Maria is a cyborg for the ages. Lang's endlessly inventive, template-setting masterpiece is still a marvel to behold.

Prometheus (Ridley Scott, 2008) Michael Fassbender's David8 is such an impressive characterization - just how sentient is David? What is he programmed to do and what traits has he acquired/developed over his existence? - that I long for the sequel only in hopes that he somehow survives. The rest of this Alien prequel is alternately fantastic and flawed.

Ex Machina (Alex Garland, 2015) Alicia Vikander won her Oscar (SHUT UP) for her incredible work as Ava, an android so believably human that when she puts clothes on over her chrome-and-wire body you would never know it, except for the slight stiffness in her movements. Alex Garland's film is one of the best of 2015, the thinking person's sci-fi (shoulda-been) blockbuster.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot - Gregory Peck Centennial

Written as part of the series hosted by Nathaniel over at The Film Experience, where I also contribute occasionally.

Gregory Peck is one of my favorite actors. I think it's the eyebrow - you know the one. The one that's always cocked upward in amusement or befuddlement or just winking in an old-school "how YOU doin'?" kinda way. I'm not sure how it nearly always stays up there, but it does, and it's amazing.

The other reason I love him, of course, is Atticus Finch. To Kill A Mockingbird is one of my favorite books, and Robert Mulligan's film version is the gold standard of page-to-screen adaptations as far as I'm concerned. Horton Foote's lyrical screenplay is a lovely distillation, of course, but there's also Mary Badham's precocious performance as Scout, and Peck's note-perfect portrayal of Atticus, the greatest father in the world. Tough but fair, friendly but fearsomely fierce when called for, and most importantly wise beyond anything.

The film doesn't put a foot wrong, starting right at the opening credits sequence, using a child's box of treasures and drawings - and Elmer Bernstein's perfect score - to immediately put you in the headspace of a six year-old girl. I don't think any film has ever put you so efficiently into the mood of the film - just watching the opening credits of Robert Mulligan's masterpiece makes you nostalgic for Maycomb, Alabama of the mid-1930s, even if you've never been there.

I love To Kill A Mockingbird so much that it's difficult to pick one shot as "Best". A large part of me wanted to highlight one of the unsung members of the supporting cast and pick one of the shots that they just knock out of the park (Mulligan hardly ever cuts in the middle of conversations or big speeches here, bless him) - like Rosemary Murphy as Maudie ("Some men in this world are born to do our unpleasant jobs for us."), or Frank Overton as Sheriff Heck Tate ("It's a sin. And I'm not about to have it on my head."). Or hell, even two of the meatier roles that somehow STILL manage to be unsung:

Brock Peters as Tom Robinson and Collin Wilcox Paxton as Mayella Ewell.

The greatest push-in in movie history?

 But the one I toyed with the most is the introduction to Robert Duvall's Arthur "Boo" Radley:

...because his face is so fucking gorgeous so ably portrays so many emotions while seemingly hardly doing anything at all.

And don't even get me started on any shot from the justifiably famous, perfect, tear-jerking "your father's passing" scene.

But there were two shots of Atticus that really captured me this time around, watching with this project in mind. The first is perhaps more notable for what's playing on the soundtrack while it happens:

Best Shot Runner-Up

This happens while Scout is sleepily asking Jem about their mother, and it's our first real insight into Atticus as something more than just a perfect father - he's kind of alone in this world. Peck's performance, combined with the dialogue, makes you wonder about what his life was like before his wife passed away, and how it affected him, without ever going so far as to suggest he is how he is now because she's no longer around. A tricky line to walk. Like the rest of the film, it's perfectly judged.

But it was this one that struck me most, in a way I wasn't quite prepared for.

BEST SHOT

We're never this far away from anyone at any point in the film. It reinforces the idea that Atticus is very much alone in his plight, possibly completely alone in his principles and how he sees the world. He's talking to Tom, his black client accused of rape, in jail, after an angry white mob attempted to take justice into their own hands (only to be saved by Atticus's own daughter). He's telling Tom that he will be alright, that they won't come after him again. That's not exactly true - Bob Ewell will come for Tom at the trial, as will the jury. Throughout all of it, Atticus stands tall, but he also stands alone, guided by the shining light of justice. He may be right, but it's still a lonely place to be.

*                *                *

I'd also like to talk about Roman Holiday a little, since Nathaniel wanted us to choose one and I missed the last two episodes of Hit Me With Your Best Shot. Plus, I really like Roman Holiday. It's not great, but it is charming beyond measure and pretty much a joy to watch. I mean, it's not every day you get to watch a STAR just blossom before you as fully as Audrey Hepburn does here. She's maybe not entirely deserving of the Oscar she won - she's VERY green and it often shows quite badly - but it's impossible to deny her presence, and when she lets loose one of those gorgeous smiles it's as if the sun is shining right on you; she makes you feel as though this smile is something special, that you have earned it somehow, and that she's smiling at you, only you. Which is perfect, since she's playing a princess.

But when I think of Roman Holiday, there's only one shot that I stands out for me as "best". It's true that the film gets lots of mileage out of its location shooting in Rome, but despite all the lovely architecture there simply aren't many shots that capture my imagination - and choosing one of Audrey smiling is just cheating; anyone could shoot that and make it look great.

No, the best shot of Roman Holiday is by far its very last one:

I have mentioned before that I am a hopeless romantic, and professed my love for a very specific type of romantic film - one about love that burns bright for a very short amount of time but cannot, must not, last. Roman Holiday is one of the ones that ends without the leads ending up together, and director William Wyler knows exactly how to make that ending work. After all the rest of the journalists leave, let Gregory Peck stay behind. Give one shot of him dwarfed by the palatial room, one shot/reverse shot of him watching where the Princess has just exited, and then, tracking shot of him walking out. All the way. Don't cut away, don't look anywhere else, just watch him leave. It's suspenseful even though we know she's not coming. It's impossible to look away from. It's the best possible way to end the film - in the sure, steady hands of Gregory Peck.

Thursday Movie Picks - Star-Crossed Lovers

Written as part of the weekly blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. Join our growing group by picking three films that fit the week's theme and writing a bit about them.

All February, Thursday Movie Picks is going Valentine's Edition! Who doesn't love a good romance? This week, we are focusing on that old chestnut, the Star-Crossed Lovers. Lovers who cannot be together, whether because of earthly circumstance or fate. Basically, Romeo and Juliet. You'll swoon for these couples together, and then cry your eyes out when you realize there isn't going to be a happy ending to their romance after all. These are some of my favorites.

Titanic (James Cameron, 1997) Say what you like about Cameron's historical epic romance, but this is one of the highest grossing films of all time for a reason: It is not only stunning filmmaking on all levels (okay fine, except for the screenplay), but it never once bores during its over three-hour runtime. The Oscar-winning Best Picture is on everyone's lips again this year as stars Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio are finally nominated for His & Hers Oscars, nearly twenty years after Leo was, rather famously, "snubbed" (I hate that word) for his work in the film. Leo's "overdue" narrative basically begins right here, with his very good work as Jack Dawson, who wins steerage tickets aboard the world's largest ship for its maiden voyage from Great Britain to America. Fortunately/Unfortunately, he saves Winslet's Rose DeWitt Bukater from jumping off the boat, and they fall in love. Ah, but she is in first class and engaged to world-class asshole Billy Zane. And well, you all know history, right? You know the fate of the Titanic, right? Doomed. From the start. But oh what a magnificent movie their story makes. A pop culture event like this doesn't happen all that often, and it's a bit sad how Titanic's reputation has dimmed over the years because of its seismic impact. If you haven't seen it in years, I urge you to do so again. Time hasn't dulled the spectacle one bit.

Shakespeare in Love (John Madden, 1998) Absolutely 100% deserved Best Picture. COME AT ME. The pleasures of Shakespeare in Love may be pure, but they are anything but simple. Tom Stoppard's marvelous screenplay revels in the written word almost as much as Shakespeare's plays do, and the actors make the already beautiful words sound rapturous coming from their lips. The story of Shakespeare overcoming writer's block when he falls in love with Lady Viola de Lesseps, which inspires him to turn his comedy Romeo & Ethel, the Pirate's Daughter into the famous Romeo & Juliet, is thrilling to watch as the lovers write some lines from the play unwittingly, and use others as foreplay. The film is an utter delight from start to finish, and has the added bonus of (pieces of) one of the best stage productions of R&J that I've ever had the pleasure to see. I could watch just this movie on a loop for the rest of time and feel completely satisfied. Even after hundreds of views, I still thrill to every stolen kiss and my eyes still well with tears during the last ten minutes. One of my All-Time Favorites.

All That Heaven Allows (Douglas Sirk, 1955) A little bit of a change of pace. Jane Wyman's Carrie is a widow living a lonely life in the suburbs, until she gets a new gardener, Rock Hudson's Ron. Ron lives off the land and worships Thoreau, Carrie lives off her dead husband's money and has friends who drag her out to parties and country clubs. Naturally (since they are both movie stars) they fall in love, against all the odds and societal pressures and THE WORST CHILDREN IN THE HISTORY OF MOVIES. Douglas Sirk is the King of subversive melodramas, and 50s "polite society" really gets it from him in this one. Oh. And there's also this exchange, which is the funniest line ever that was absolutely not meant to be when it was written:

Ron "...he discovered that he had to make his own decisions. That he had to be a man."

Carrie "And you want me to be a man?"

Oh, dear sweet Lord. If only you knew.

Thursday Movie Picks - Holiday/Vacation Movies

Written as part of the blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. Join us by picking three movies that fit the week's theme and writing a bit about them!

As the British say, "We're going off on holiday!" Well, we're not. But the characters in these movies are!

M. Hulot's Holiday (Jacques Tati, 1953) Jacques Tati's iconic bumbling simpleton M. Hulot goes on vacation to the French coast, and chaos follows in his wake, as it tends to do. There are so many classic gags in this film that I can't pick a favorite - the taffy, the dinner table, the wind in the lobby, Hulot's tennis serve.... and those are just four. This gentle comedy is perfect for introducing younger children to both black & white film and foreign films, since it's just plain funny and uses hardly any dialogue. It's one of my All-Time Favorites.

The Man Who Knew Too Much (Alfred Hitchcock, 1956) Talk about your holiday gone wrong. American doctor Jimmy Stewart and his wife Doris Day are traveling abroad with their young son when Jimmy unwittingly stumbles on an assassination plot. To ensure his silence, his son is kidnapped. Fun for everyone! A remake of Hitchcock's own 1934 film, this is superior in nearly every way, especially during the nail-biting, dialogue-free sequence at the Royal Albert Hall.

Summertime (David Lean, 1955) Spinster middle-aged wallflower secretary Jane Hudson (Katherine Hepburn in one of her best performances) takes the vacation of her life to Europe, and while in Venice, she meets swoon-worthy Rossano Brazzi. A whirlwind romance ensues, changing Jane's life forever. Read more of my thoughts on the beautiful film here.

Merry Christmas, everyone! May your holidays be merry and bright!

Thursday Movie Picks: Movies about Music/Making Music/Musicians

Written as part of the weekly blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. Join in the fun by picking three movies that fit the week's theme and telling us about them!

Well, October is over, so back to our "regularly-scheduled programming" (read: non-scary) on Thursday Movie Picks. This week: Movies centered around music. I had to re-pick this week as I missed the note on there being no films based on real-life people, so... here goes!

Almost Famous (Cameron Crowe, 2000) I can't even with this movie. One of my All-Time Favorites. Crowe's semi-autobiographical film so perfectly captures the feeling of not just a specific time and place, but of that time in one's life between childhood and adulthood. I could go on and on about the perfect cast (Frances McDormand as one of the all-time great screen mothers... Kate Hudson in a luminous star-making turn... Billy Crudup and Jason Lee with AMAZING period hair... Patrick Fugit as the most appealing narrator ever... Philip Seymour Hoffman cracking wise and dispensing wisdom....), but what I really love about Almost Famous is the feeling it conjures up, and how effortlessly it plays.

That Thing You Do! (Tom Hanks, 1996) You'd think Tom Hanks would have directed more after this perfectly entertaining film about a 60's band's rise to the top. He's even great in it as the band's big-label manager. Tom Everett Scott, Jonathan Schaech, Steve Zahn, and Ethan Embry make for great distinctive personalities as the band members, and Liv Tyler makes an impression as "The Girl". And the soundtrack is to DIE. Long Live The Oneders!

Frank (Lenny Abrahamson, 2014) This isn't a GREAT film, but it does contain what is possibly Michael Fassbender's best performance as the giant-head wearing musical genius Frank, and a great performance from Maggie Gyllenhall as one of his band members - a much more typical role for her, but damn if she isn't PERFECT. The music is at points extremely weird, but also kind of perfect for what it is, and often laugh-out-loud funny. Domnhall Gleeson makes for a perfectly agreeable narrator, and the film is a good watch. But it doesn't have much staying power outside of Fassbender's performance. Also: He has a surprisingly good singing voice, if not "good" in a traditional sense.

Thursday Movie Picks - Villainous Children

Written as part of the weekly blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. Join us (ONE OF US... ONE OF US....) by picking three movies that fit the week's theme and telling us about them! We regular participants don't bite.... HARD....

Continuing the special October Halloween Edition of Thursday Movie Picks, this week's theme is Villainous Children. There are only so many films with actual CHILDREN as the villains, so I stretched a bit for one of them instead of picking two of the really obvious ones. And there was another that I really REALLY wanted to pick, but to do so would completely spoil the end of the movie. So without further ado, here are my eeeeeeevil picks.

Village of the Damned (Wolf Rilla, 1960) One day, all the inhabitants of the village of Midwich, England, fall into a deep sleep in the middle of the day. Some months after they all wake up, all the women of childbearing age are pregnant, and they give birth rather fast, all to beautiful blond-haired children, who have some strange characteristics. Including being able to control the minds of the adults around them. This is one of the creepiest little films I've ever seen - very much a British B-movie from 1960, but incredibly well-acted and well-shot. There's a reason it's become a classic.

Let The Right One In (Tomas Alfredson, 2008) Eli is a sweet little pre-teen just like any other. And she's very sweet to poor little bullied Oskar. But just what is it she and her elderly caretaker do out late in the evenings? The truth is quite chilling, and not just because Alfredson's future classic takes place in a seemingly perpetual winter. This is an absolutely first-rate horror film. So of course Hollywood had to make its own version for people who don't like subtitles. I've heard Let Me In actually isn't bad, but even if you don't like subtitles, you owe it to yourself to see this one... 

The Orphanage (Juan Antonio Bayona, 2007) ...and this one even more. Laura moves her family into the orphanage where she grew up in order to start a home for handicapped children, like her adopted son Simón. Simón likes their new house, even drawing pictures of his five new (invisible) friends. Typical kid stuff. But then one day during a party for the new residents and their families, Simón disappears after Laura can't come with him RIGHT THEN to see one of his friends - whom she happened to see later anyway. It'd be hard to miss him, wearing a burlap sack mask and doing nasty things. So she does what she has to to find her son. The Orphanage is a great film, full stop. Scary, deeply felt, perfectly shot and edited, and with a wonderful performance from Belén Rueda as Laura. It's perhaps the saddest horror film ever made, and it also contains the single best jump scare of the past ten years.

BLIND SPOT #6: The French Connection

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know this wasn't on my original list. But it was playing at Film Forum and I'm playing catch-up with this project as it is, so I decided to take it in and write it up.

It's my blog. I'll do what I want!

This one had me hooked right from the blaring score and quick zoom-in title card. It announces itself as an exciting thriller right from the start, and damn if it doesn't deliver on that promise. The beginning, though, plays a little uneasy now: Within the first five minutes, Gene Hackman's "Popeye" Doyle runs down and assaults a black man after a surprise raid on a bar in a black neighborhood. The "n word" is used. A lot. And with all that's been happening recently, it made me more that a little uncomfortable; it felt like something that couldn't be explained away with the old "oh, but it was a different time," excuse. Doyle's casual racism is only denounced by his partner (Roy Scheider! Why didn't I know he was in this movie?!?) long past the point where it loses its effectiveness with their perp. In a film that wasn't very good, it would be difficult to get over it. But thankfully, The French Connection is a VERY good film, and elsewhere... what riches!

Friedkin is a master of suspense, very nearly on par with Hitchcock. It's what gives Bug such a creepy-crawly feeling of inevitable tragedy, and what saves The Exorcist from some questionable acting. The two centerpiece scenes here are terrific edge-of-your-seat, sweaty-palmed mini-masterpieces. I'm talking, of course, about the two scenes involving the subway. One underground on a platform, where Doyle plays cat-and-mouse with the crime ring's mastermind (the great Fernando Rey), and the other, the film's famous car chase, in which Doyle isn't chasing a man in another car, but rather a man in a subway on elevated tracks. The platform scene ends with the above shot - Rey's perfect smirk and wave at Doyle, letting him know that he was onto the policeman the entire time (even better: it apparently happened just this way in real life). It's a thrilling moment at the same time as it's utterly depressing - how are they ever going to catch this guy?

But Doyle catches a break later when a sniper meant to assassinate him misses and goes on the run. Doyle misses him on the subway, but commandeers a car on the street (every single person in the screening laughed at this) and chases the train to its next stop. It's easily one of the best car chases ever filmed, looking like it's taking place on real city streets that haven't been blocked off (and in fact, some weren't - Hackman actually did almost hit one car and was sent spiraling into a pole). It's so good actually, that when Doyle finally catches up with the guy, as he's coming down the stairs, thinking he got away scot-free, I actually was still on the edge of my seat, convinced that he wasn't going to get his man. Of course he does, in memorable fashion.

The film also gets at the mundanity of being a police officer in subtle ways I've never seen before: Check Doyle's gloves when they're on stakeout, all tattered and hole-y... actually, check all of the scenes when they're on stakeout, doing nothing but watching and waiting, outside in a city where it's seemingly always winter. Even the scene where they strip a car looking for drugs feel more procedural than exciting. But in that mundanity, Friedkin somehow finds deep wells of suspense. He's helped, of course, by a ferocious performance from Hackman, who tears through just about every scene he's in even if he's standing silent. He's a jumpy bundle of pent-up angry energy, an absolute live-wire, and compulsively watchable despite his questionable morals. Pairing him with Scheider, always a thoughtful, grounding presence, was a brilliant choice.

The French Connection more than lives up to its reputation as a killer police thriller. It is full to bursting with fantastic location shots of New York City, and the grittiness those provide makes the film feel even more authentic. Since the police officers who investigated the original case were involved in all aspects of production (the real-life Doyle plays movie-Doyle's Chief), it had that authenticity going for it already, but the location shooting really adds so much to this. You almost feel like a fly on the wall of the entire city watching this investigation unfold, something that is even now all too rare in films. Unlike In The Heat of the Night, which was released only four years earlier and really shows its age, The French Connection still feels as fresh as the day it was released.

The French Connection
Year: 1971
Directed by: William Friedkin
Screenplay by: Ernest Tidyman
Starring: Gene Hackman, Roy Scheider, Fernando Rey, Tony Lo Bianco
Oscar: 5 WINS - Best Picture, Director, Actor (Hackman), Adapted Screenplay, and Editing. Nominations for Supporting Actor (Scheider lost to Ben Johnson in The Last Picture Show), Cinematography (Owen Roizman lost to Fiddler on the Roof), and Sound (also lost to Fiddler on the Roof).
Rating: *****

The Film Emotion Blogathon

Conman at the Movies started a blogathon (thanks as always to the ever-amazing Drew at A Fistful of Films for shining the light) that is just too good to not participate in. Inspired by the best film of 2015 thus far, Pixar's Inside Out, the Film Emotion blogathon is about finding a film that stands in for each of the main emotions in the film:

Joy: "A movie that makes you happy. The kind of movie that you put on whenever you’re in a bad mood that never fails to lighten your spirits."
Sadness: "The movie that made you cry the most."
Fear: "The movie that gave you the most nightmares."
Anger: "A movie that you flat out hated. Not a movie that was dull or boring, but a movie that fills you up with rage just thinking about it."
Disgust: "A film that makes you cringe."

So without further ado, here we go!

Joy - I have a number of go-to movies when I'm in a bad mood, but the one that I probably turn to the most is Singin' in the Rain. Not only is it my #1 All-Time Favorite Film, but it is by far the one that gives me the most pure, unadulterated joy. I could just put on Donald O'Connor's brilliant "Make 'Em Laugh" number, but why would I want to deny myself the joy of the opening "Fit As A Fiddle" segment? Or the first meeting between Gene Kelly's Don Lockwood and Debbie Reynolds's Kathy Seldin? Or the one-two punch of joyousness that is "Good Morning" into the title number? Whenever I'm feeling down, any second of this movie will instantly make me happy again.

Sadness - I'm sure I've written this story a million times on the internet, but I don't think I've ever done so here. When I first saw Toy Story 3, I was in tears from the incinerator scene onward. And not polite little tears welling up in my eyes and dripping down my cheeks, either. I'm talking a goddamn RIVER of tears streaming down my face and great, loud, heaving SOBS in a completely packed movie theater. Every little thing about the last fifteen minutes of this beautiful film just hit me like a ton of bricks in different ways. I won't go into it all here, but this movie was one of a few that actually made me look at my life, assess it, and make a change. Even now, just thinking about that PERFECT final scene makes me choke up a little bit.

Fear - Oddly enough, the film that cost me the most hours of sleep is one that I haven't even seen, but one that I've only seen little bits of: Poltergeist. It's all about the TV. The one recurring nightmare I've ever had is one where I turn a TV off but it keeps turning on by itself, sometimes to static and sometimes to something that I don't know what it is. I've traced it to seeing the previews for this on TV when I was REALLY young. Thankfully, The Ring came out when I was much older, so even though those dreams started up again after seeing it, I was able to handle them much better.

Anger - SIGH. I've never been so offended by a film's quality that thinking about it actually fills me with rage. I've come close precisely once - Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones - but mostly I didn't actively hate it, rather I was just bored by it. HOWEVER, I truly detest The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies for the mere act of EXISTING. So much so that I haven't even seen it yet. There is simply no good goddamned reason to make that book into three movies. NONE. And given the padding present in both An Unexpected Journey and The Desolation of Smaug, I just don't have the patience to sit through another one of these movies. Which pains me so much, because I am a full-on fanboy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. And then Peter Jackson went entirely up his own ass and turned my favorite book into a slog (Benedict Cumberbatch's AWESOME Smaug notwithstanding).

Disgust - There are plenty of films that I've seen that I don't feel the need to watch ever again, but only a select few that are so difficult to watch that I specifically don't WANT to watch ever again. The big kahuna of those is easily Requiem for a Dream, a film that makes me cringe so much that I just want to curl up into a little ball and die. I'm not sure exactly when that pit in my stomach opens up, but by the time Jennifer Connelly... I can't even write about it here it's so awful. Given that the film's subject matter is drugs and drug addiction, I have no doubt that that's the feeling the film was meant to leave us with. So job well done, everyone, but... I can't watch your film again. EVER.

Thursday Movie Picks - All In The Family Edition: Sibling Relationships

Written as part of the blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. You should join us - just pick three films that fit the week's theme and tell us about them!

This month's All In The Family edition of Thursday Movie Picks is all about movie siblings. I have such a love-hate relationship with my sister. But since siblings know each other better than anyone else, I think that's true of most siblings. It certainly is for the ones in my picks this week!

Pleasantville (Gary Ross, 1998) An antagonistic brother and sister (perfectly-cast Reese Witherspoon and never-better Tobey Maguire) end up being sent to the world of fictional '50s sitcom "Pleasantville", where everything is pleasant and breakfast consists of the largest stack of pancakes you've ever seen, eggs, sausage, bacon, AND a hamsteak. Topped, of course, with a generous portion of syrup (much to the carb-fearing Reese's chagrin). Unfortunately, although he knows the show backwards and forwards, she doesn't, and they end up changing the black & white world of the show to one of color. Stunning cinematography/visual effects and great performances from Joan Allen (Oscar-nominated for this role), William H. Macy, Jeff Daniels, and (of all people) Paul Walker make this one of my all-time favorites.

A League of Their Own (Penny Marshall, 1992) Dottie and Kit are siblings who grew up on a farm. Dottie is the perfect daughter while Kit is a bit more of a wild child/tomboy. They both play softball for a local team (Dottie's the catcher and Kit pitches), and when a scout comes around looking for girls to play baseball in the absence of men (it's in the middle of WWII), he wants Dottie, who refuses to go to tryouts without her kid sister. Of course, they both end up on the same team, which exacerbates their sibling rivalry even more. The whole cast of this film is stellar (Geena Davis and Lori Petty make a terrific sisterly duo, and even Jon Lovitz is bearable), but let's be honest: it's really the Madonna and Rosie O'Donnell show. From their first scene at tryouts as Noo Yawkers Mae and Doris, the movie is all theirs.

What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (Robert Aldrich, 1962) All hail the greatest (non-sibling) rivalry in Hollywood! Bette Davis and Joan Crawford are each superb in this gothic horror show about two  sisters confined to a house where Blanche (Crawford), a former movie star, is crippled and Jane (Davis) is a drunk who is trying to recapture her glory days as a child star. Far and away the most toxic sibling relationship ever put on film. (PS - If you haven't seen the parody British comic duo French & Saunders did of this, you should. It is DEAD ON, especially Jennifer Saunders's Crawford.)

BONUS PICK

The Ten Commandments (Cecil B. DeMille, 1956) I didn't feel right picking this one because TECHNICALLY Moses and Rameses aren't biologically related, although they're raised like brothers. And then while writing this, I realized that even if they WERE biologically related, they wouldn't be brothers, they'd be cousins - Moses's mother being the Pharaoh's sister and all. But anyway, their sibling-esque rivalry informs their entire relationship in this grandest of grand epics, certainly one of the biggest films ever made, and still glorious today, almost 60 years later.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot - The Red Shoes

Look, I'll just come right out and say it: I don't know how to talk about Powell & Pressburger's The Red Shoes. Whenever I try, I'm suddenly utterly incapable of forming words, let alone coherent sentences. It is one of the most beautiful films ever made, and its influence can be felt far and wide, in films as different as Raging Bull and Center Stage. It is a landmark film for many reasons, but when it comes the how it films dance, it is so brilliant that all I can do is sigh. The only way to explain it is to see it. Words cannot do it justice. This is one film where the old "a picture is worth a thousand words" maxim comes into play, for I do not think enough words could possibly be written about this film, which flashes 24 pictures of pure Technicolor perfection at you per second for 133 minutes (how on God's green Earth did Jack Cardiff not get an Oscar nomination for his cinematography here?!?!?).

I mean, take this shot from the ballet sequence (all dance on film begins and ends here. There is no topping this. Everyone should just stop trying):

Even in terrible quality, it's gorgeous. You know the story of the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, right? Basically, girl puts on pretty pair of red shoes, cannot stop dancing, dies. Everything about this shot is so perfectly ethereal - as Moira Shearer's Victoria Page dances her part in the ballet, she keeps going even as the other fair-goers around her drop from exhaustion. Even the posters fall down. But our heroine keeps dancing. On and on. And on and on. And the colors. THE COLORS. Good GOD but they are wondrous.

The brilliant thing about The Red Shoes the film is how it parallels the fairy tale story. Victoria Page cannot stop dancing. Not for the love of her life. Not for anyone or anything. When Lermontov, the director of the ballet, asks her why she wants to dance, she gives the only response:

"Why do you want to live?"

Lermontov answers, of course, that he simply must, but it's a rhetorical question. To dance, for Vicky, is to live. There isn't one without the other.

Which is why, if forced (and CURSE YOU, Nathaniel, for forcing me to), I have to pick this as the film's Best Shot:

When Victoria first hears the audience's applause, this is what we see. Waves crashing on the shore of the stage. It's such a perfectly impressionistic moment, and the film is full of moments like this (especially during the ballet sequences, which could never EVER actually be reproduced on stage). But beyond the perfect metaphor of the shot, note that we have our three main characters in a triangle. Victoria in the foreground, with Lermontov and Julian in the background, almost overtaken completely by the image of the waves. They're the only two people watching that matter to Victoria, but what really, truly matters to her is the dance. And the audience's response. As a performer, I can speak to that high, and it is indeed like ocean waves - you let that applause wash over you like the most lovely ocean water, and try not to get completely swept up in it. You want to stay as grounded as you can. But there will always be people in the audience whose praise you crave, and even in the heat of the moment, as you're swept up in the love of the entire audience, you can spot them clear as day.

Basically, this shot is perfect on every possible level. As is most of The Red Shoes, but this is the one that means the most to me.

Thursday Movie Picks - Kids Movies That Adults Would Enjoy (Non-Animated)

Written as part of the blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. Play along by picking three movies that fit the weekly theme and telling us about them!

Well, color me stumped. I kept thinking of movies that I THOUGHT fit this category, only they turned out to be animated, or really for teens not kids, or some such. It's hard enough to make a good film for adults, but a film specifically aimed at children that adults would also enjoy? No mean feat, that. But I think I've found the answer.

A Little Princess (Alfonso Cuaròn, 1995) Maybe it's just because it was when I grew up, but the 90s were something of a Golden Age for family films. There were excellent versions of The Secret Garden and Little Women (directed by Agnieszka Holland and Gillian Armstrong) in 1993 and 1994 respectively, and then a year later there was this, directed by recent Oscar winner Alfonso Cuaròn. The story of A Little Princess is a bit trite (single father brings daughter to boarding school when he goes off to the army; father dies in battle, leaving the girl with no family and no money to pay for the school, and the Evil Headmistress turns her into a sort of elementary school-aged Cinderella, but she perseveres through strength of character and ability to tell stories), but the filmmaking and performances here are top-notch. Cuaròn showed such promise here - it's not hard to see the seeds of the auteur who made Children of Men and Gravity.

Babe (Chris Noonan, 1995) If you don't love this movie, there might be something wrong with you. Just saying. The story of a pig who becomes the world's greatest sheepdog through the power of kindness, Babe is just about the cutest damn movie you ever did see, and somehow manages to make live-action talking animals NOT creepy. Surely the film's Oscar-winning visual effects help, but the great vocal performances go a long way in that regard as well. James Cromwell and the hilarious Magda Szubanski lend perfect human support. In a just world, this would have won the Oscar for Best Picture in 1995.

The Muppet Christmas Carol (Brian Henson, 1992) Words cannot express how much I love this movie. And while I would say it's more clearly aimed at kids than the previous Muppet movies, this one holds the exact same pleasures for adults as those earlier hits. Michael Caine makes for a wonderful Scrooge, the concept of Gonzo (and Rizzo) narrating the story as Charles Dickens provides tons of laughs, the Muppets are all perfectly cast, and the design of the ghosts is perfection. And of course, there are the delightful, tuneful songs.

Thursday Movie Picks - Foreign Language Films: German

Written as part of the blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. You should join us - just pick three films that fit the week's theme and tell us about them!

For this week's Thursday Movie Picks, we delve into the wonderful world of Foreign Language films (well, at least, they're foreign to us English-speakers...). Awesome. I love a good foreign language film just as much as I love films in English, and there are many that I hold very dear to my heart. Unfortunately, German films are not an area of expertise for me. I just haven't seen any films from their canon of great filmmakers (Herzog, Fassbinder, etc.), and while I've seen plenty from the silent era (Metropolis, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, etc.), I decided that choosing something without any spoken dialogue would be cheating a bit. BUT! I shall persevere. Here are three wonderful films in German.

Run Lola Run (Lola Rennt, Tom Tykwer, 1998) Tykwer burst onto the scene in 1998 with this blast of fresh air starring the tremendous Franka Potente in a star-is-born performance. Franka is the titular Lola, a young German lass whose boyfriend Manny has gotten stuck on the raw end of a drug deal and must come up with a large sum of money in a short amount of time. He calls Lola and tells her he's going to rob a market to get it. She implores him not to do something so stupid, but the clock is ticking. So she runs. But there are many options open to her around every corner, starting with where to get the money. And each choice she makes has an effect on the people around her, which Tykwer shows us in a series of snapshots after Lola runs into certain people. The film tracks her through three different runs, each with a different outcome but each with the same propulsive energy. In between each run, we see a scene with Lola and Manny in bed, presumably post-coital, talking about what love means to them. If all that sounds like too much, or too pretentious, let me reassure you: It is neither of those things. Everything here is in perfect balance. Run Lola Run is a thinking person's action film for sure, but everyone can enjoy it.

Wings of Desire (Der Himmel über Berlin, Wim Wenders, 1987) The angel Damiel is one of many of God's emissaries on Earth, able to hear the thoughts of everyone around him and offer comfort to those who are at the end of their rope. But it's a very lonely existence, because he cannot be seen by anyone except the other angels (who, it must be said, don't seem particularly friendly). And then one day, he sees and falls in love with a trapeze artist. But it cannot be, unless he chooses to become human, one of those beings he watches over that are always in despair. Sound familiar? PLEASE don't judge this gorgeous film by its Americanized version, City of Angels (which starred Meg Ryan and Nicolas Cage). This is the real deal, a film about what it means to be human, what it means to be alone even in the most densely populated of cities, and just what it is that makes life worth living.

Summer Storm (Sommersturm, Marco Kreuzpaintner, 2004) One of the better gay films in recent memory, Summer Storm follows Tobi, member of a German rowing team installed at a training camp during the summer in the lead-up to a big regatta. The team is supposed to be camping with a girls' team, but instead gets placed with a gay youth team after the girls cancel. Naturally, this leads to all kinds of youthful exploring and pushing of buttons and boundaries, because Tobi has been hiding his attraction for his best friend and teammate, Achim. It's not a great film, but Summer Storm excellently captures the confusion and searching surrounding youthful sexuality - both gay and straight - in a way very few films seem to grasp. Plus: CUTE boys!

Blind Spot #1: The Purple Rose of Cairo

I can't think of a better film to start the Blind Spot Series (much love to Ryan at The Matinée for starting this amazing blog series!) than Woody Allen's The Purple Rose of Cairo, because it is all about love of the movies.

But even knowing the basic plot going in, I was not prepared for just how funny Purple Rose would be, nor was I prepared for the turns its plot would take. Yes, Mia Farrow's depression-era abused wife Cecilia goes to see the fictional film The Purple Rose of Cairo so many times that Jeff Daniels's sweet-hearted, safari-suited character Tom Baxter walks right off the screen to be with her, but what happens after that is Woody Allen's true stroke of genius.

Not only are the theater patrons amused and appalled in equal measure, not only do the other characters in the film within the film sit around and grouse about the asshole who walked off the screen and left them without a way to continue the movie, not only does the theater owner call the producer and distributor to take care of the problem, but the studio calls the actor who played the role (Jeff Daniels again) to fix it!

Leave it to Woody Allen to treat this fantastical premise completely realistically. And I do mean completely: Even Tom's money isn't real.

Everything follows a completely sound train of logic, making the entire thing seem even more absurd than it actually is. Especially when we get two versions of Jeff Daniels, the actor and the character he created, getting into metaphysical arguments about who's who and who's the better person. It's hilarious stuff, especially for this performer. This is a really unique way to tackle the identity issues that can come with being an actor: What would happen if the character your played in a film - the actual character, you as the character - appeared in front of you in real life? Is he you? Some version of you?

One of many great little details in the film is how Tom expects the real world to behave like the movies - when he starts to get hot and heavy with Cecilia, he expects the world to fade-out and for time to jump to after they've had sex. He has no idea what sex is like, because movies of that time never showed anything beyond some relatively chaste making out. Which makes his visit to a brothel with Dianne Wiest (LOVE. HER.) especially hilarious.

And then, Tom actually brings Cecilia into his movie for a patented Hollywood-style nightclub montage. The perfection of The Purple Rose of Cairo, the film-within-the-film, is glorious to behold. The actors, including Edward Herrmann, Van Johnson, Deborah Rush, and Zoe Caldwell, are clearly having a blast playing classic film tropes of characters, and the style of the film is so perfect (from the literal title cards to the soundtrack to the afore-mentioned montage) that you might actually buy that this thing was a real Hollywood film from that time.

But let's get back to the actual film. I think that anyone who loves movies can relate to Farrow's Cecilia. I felt like I knew her almost immediately, as she goes to the movies so much that she knows the people who work in the theater by name. I make it a point to try to go to the movies once a week - I budget it as a necessary expense, not a fun thing to do if I have the money. And haven't we all wanted to meet a movie star in real life - let alone actually be in a movie for real? Cecilia gets to do all of that. And even when things don't work out so well, she still has the movies. A new one comes out every week!

Apparently there was some criticism of the film when it came out because of its ending. People claimed it wasn't "happy". To which I first have to say: Who says all films have to have a happy ending? And frankly, I agree with Woody Allen, who retorted, "That was the happy ending." There is no way to end this story more happily. If Cecilia runs off with actor Gil, there's no way they would live happily ever after. He's so self-absorbed that he would eventually leave her for someone else, and with nothing, and she'd be right back where she started. If she runs off with the fictional Tom, they won't get far before the harsh realities of life will come crashing down on them both. Tom isn't just fictional, he lives (quite literally) in a fantasy world, and has no idea how to live in the real one. Nope, no matter how you slice it, Cecilia eventually has to face the music and realize that life, with all its ups and downs, must be lived. It doesn't always end happily, but that's why we have movies. Life can't be like them, but they sure are nice to escape to.

The Purple Rose of Cairo
Year: 1985
Written and Directed by: Woody Allen
Starring: Mia Farrow, Jeff Daniels, Danny Aiello, Dianne Wiest
Oscar: Best Original Screenplay Nomination (lost to Witness)

Rating: ***** (Personal Favorite level)