Written as part of the blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. Join in the blogging fun by picking three movies that fit the week's theme and writing a bit about them!
As you know, I LOVE musicals. But this week isn't about that. This week for Thursday Movie Picks, we are talking about non-musicals that nonetheless have a scene (or two) where characters break into song. Such scenes can certainly liven up the proceedings, being that these scenes tend to do the same things that musical numbers in musicals do, giving us an insight into these characters that we wouldn't otherwise get if they didn't have the musical outlet.
Key Largo (John Huston, 1948) One of the greatest ensemble casts ever assembled (Lauren Bacall, Lionel Barrymore, Humphrey Bogart, Edward G. Robinson, Claire Trevor) get stuck in a hotel lobby during a hurricane on the titular island. Bogart is there to pay his respects to a WWII comrade's widow (Bacall, naturally), but before long, Robinson and his thugs get into a bit of a situation with some local on-the-run criminals and take control of the hotel. The scene in question is a stunner, as Trevor's Gaye Dawn is manipulated by her lover (Robinson, naturally) to perform one of her cabaret numbers for the group. It's a stunning scene, one that more than earned Trevor her Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. The movie itself is a great exercise in escalating tension, if one of the lesser Bogart/Bacall pairings.
Magnolia (Paul Thomas Anderson, 1999) PTA's kaleidoscopic look at the lives of all kinds of people in the San Fernando Valley does the "interconnecting stories" thing much better than most other films (including the similar, ham-fisted Oscar winner Crash), and is absolutely mesmerizing in its best moments. The very best of which is the sequence when nearly all of the film's characters (and there are a LOT of them) start separately singing Aimee Mann's beautiful "Wise Up" as the song plays on the soundtrack. It's a stunning moment, which makes it all the sadder that Anderson had to go and gild the lily with the movie's ridiculous ending, which looks for all the world like he wrote himself into a corner, chose the most ridiculous deus ex machina he could think of, and added the movie's opening sequence to justify it. But that's just me, and I really do love the rest of Magnolia something fierce - the performances alone are worth the price of admission (Tom Cruise deserved the Oscar for his balls-to-the-wall performance as professional male chauvinist Frank T.J. Mackey), and even though it's long, it's consistently involving. It's just a pity about that ending.
The Shape of Water (Guillermo del Toro, 2017) I don't want to spoil it, because it came to me as an utter surprise in the movie, and it's maybe my favorite scene in any movie of 2017. Using the old standard "You'll Never Know" was a stroke of genius, and del Toro manages to turn it into the most magical moment in a movie full to bursting with movie magic. Elisa is a mute cleaning woman at a secret government facility in 1960s Baltimore. When an amphibious humanoid "asset" is brought to the facility, Elisa finds it a kindred spirit, and when she learns it is going to be killed, she takes it upon herself (and her gay artist neighbor) to rescue it. A gorgeous piece of work on every level, The Shape of Water was nominated for more Oscars than any other movie this year, and I'm pulling for it to win most of them, and wouldn't be upset if it pulled off a sweep.
Written as part of the blogathon hosted by Wandering Through the Shelves. You should join us - all you have to do is pick three movies that fit the week's theme and tell us about them!
This month's All in the Family edition of Thursday Movie Picks is the hardest yet... partially because I didn't plan. I already picked my favorite (evil) stepmother (Anjelica Huston in Ever After), and my favorite step-siblings (Patrick and Sam from Perks of Being a Wallflower) in previous weeks. So, that leaves me with...
Well, let's just say I had to get a LITTLE bit creative.
Pan's Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro, 2006) In May 1944, Ofelia and her pregnant mother travel to the country to move in with her new stepfather... who just so happens to be one of the most ruthless Captains in Franco's army. Then she wanders into the labyrinth on the Captain's property, and... well... there's this... faun... who tell Ofelia that she is the Princess Moana, lost from home for years. But in order to prove it, Ofelia must complete three tasks, each more difficult than the last. Pan's Labyrinth is del Toro's masterpiece, a fantasmagoric wonder show seamlessly intertwining the childish world of fairy tales with the all-too-real adult world of the Spanish Civil War and uprising.
Juno (Jason Reitman, 2007) When teenager Juno asks her father and stepmother to sit down because she has something important to tell them, they thought it would be that she was expelled, or into hard drugs. But no, it turns out the idiot got pregnant (by Paulie Bleeker - didn't think he had it in him!), and now she's dealing with things way beyond her maturity level. There are many things I love about Juno, but the casting is probably my second favorite (after Diablo Cody's getting-even-better-as-it-ages script). They may be very staunchly middle American middle class, but wouldn't you want J.K. Simmons as your Dad and Allison Janney as your stepmom?
The Sound of Music (Robert Wise, 1965) Fraulein Maria is the worst nun ever in the history of nuns: She spends her time singing and twirling around on mountaintops when she should be inside praying, she engages in all sorts of activities outside that get her dirty and ruin her habit, and then when the Mother Abbess sends her out into the world to serve as governess to the seven children of Captain Georg von Trapp, what does the bitch do? She falls in love with the man... who is in a relationship with the stunningly fabulous Baroness Schrader. But, this being a musical (even if it does take place in Nazi Germany), the Baroness sees the writing on the wall and leaves so that the not-so-star-crossed lovers can get together and possibly add to their happy brood... although really. SEVEN children? Nobody needs that many. I wrote plenty about this a while back for Hit Me With Your Best Shot, but I will say this again: This is Julie Andrews's best performance and I always think she won an Oscar for it. She should have.
