The Adventures of Prince Achmed

Well, it’s not every day that you get to watch a hundred-year-old movie. Nor does it happen that the film in question is as beguiling as Lotte Reiniger's silhouette stop-motion animation work. There are scenes in this movie that are so creatively expressed that the viewer is left wondering exactly how they were done—even in this time of digital filmmaking and realistically rendered visuals. It’s pure creativity and imagination that went into the making of this film, which tells a tale from the Arabian Nights that contains much that is familiar to most audiences—the famous story of Aladdin—blended into a second story about the titular character and his own world spanning deeds. It’s a lot of fun to watch and the story is not too difficult to follow despite the need for English sub subtitles of the German subtitles (in an otherwise wordless presentation. The current fashion is to be highly concerned with the last five minutes and to concurrently ignore everything that came before, but that is a dreadful mistake—a conclusion proved by looking at this postcard from the far ago. The light and magic here come not from a genie or a lamp, but from the continuum of human creativity and consciousness.

Aguirre, the Wrath of God

Do yourself a favor: watch this film in the subtitled original German, not the dubbed version. The crazy comes through much more forcefully in the German. Once again Werner Herzog offers the audience a study in hubris, and ultimately madness, in the setting of the Amazon jungle. There’s less a story here than a continuous thread of narrative travelogue as a group of would-be conquistadors and their various associates journey in search of El Dorado and presumed fortune and fame. Klaus Kinski shows us again how to make madness and villainy a featured element of a movie that rarely rises above a slow-moving pace yet never loses the viewer's attention either. (The most exciting scene comes right at the beginning, when we see the group descending an Andean path the looks like an unreal staircase—a visual that sets the tone for the entire rest of the movie's tableau of existing in the world of the unreal.) Again, as with Fitzcarraldo—the two films are almost a 1 and 1A exacta entry of South American man vs. nature studies—you get a movie that many people simply won’t get, but that those with adventurous viewing habits will appreciate for its unique vision and contemplative frame of mind. And if nothing else you’ll learn a valuable lesson: don’t trust crazy conquistadors. 

Angel and the Badman

What often sets a John Wayne movie apart from your average oater is that there’s often a twist to the tale that you don’t find in the usual western flick. Here, it’s about Wayne’s morally ambiguous cowpoke falling in with a family of Quakers. The setup gives the story a base layer of philosophizing in its narrative, which provides a sense of something different and intriguing to what would otherwise be a run-of-the-mill story. Wayne provides his standard self as the reluctant good guy, while costar Gail Russell is charming throughout as his mildly naïve but otherwise patient and wise would be love interest. Don’t worry—the romance only partly gets in the way of familiar horse opera tropes, such as galloping mounts, guns, grand vistas, cattle rustling, outbursts of violence, etc. Mostly, this work is about a mood, a friendly (pun intended) charm that wins you over and leaves you grinning through much of the running time. It’s a film worth watching, I tell thee true. 

Anora

Writing this review feels like walking a tightrope. I don’t want to be more critical than this movie deserves, but I don’t want to give it all the credit it has already received without necessarily deserving it, either. If that sounds a bit twisted, you can say the same thing about this film, too. It begins like a study of today’s shallow, licentious, wastrel youth, meaning that it has little appeal…and then, weirdly, it turns into a Three Stooges movie. The comedic turn in the film’s middle third is legitimately funny stuff, and I’m even willing to believe that that was the filmmaker’s intention—but that’s a hard sell given the seeming earnestness of the story’s other two thirds, particularly the latter part of the proceedings. And the denouement, which feels like it is intended to be a surprise, is in reality telegraphed throughout the story. I also get a sense that there is some sort of political statement that undergirds the tale and its view of the characters and their lives, which would probably explain the film’s success at the Oscars…because I can’t explain that strictly on the merits. Mix it together and you get yet another of those flicks that come along and get heaps of praise and bundles of awards, but then are largely forgotten after a few turns of the calendar. (Moonlight, anyone? The Artist?) If that sounds like your gig, then roll with this one and enjoy. But everyone else out here in audience land? This one is probably a “Nyet.”

Argylle

Silly, cute and fun. see, this is why you have to take a movie’s aspirations into account. If you approach this flick with the expectation that it will be a towering work of masterful cinema, then you have missed the point from the first few moments. Clearly, we’re in the realm of fluffy entertainment, and given that parameter, this entry achieves what it aims for. Bryce Dallas Howard is the greatest strength here; she’s adorable from her first scene and it’s her presence that makes everything go here. Even when she loses a touch of that luster midway through the story—there’s a tactical error in terms of characterization at that point, but it’s not fatal—Howard still brings enough charm and funny vibes to carry the tale to its satisfying conclusion. Also, there’s a cat who plays a big role, so that’s guaranteed fun right there. No new filmmaking epoch gets started here, but you’ll have a good time with this one if you let it be what it is. Discover that secret and you’ll find the key to being a good movie watcher. 

Air

I can’t really tell: does being old enough to remember the period of this particular period piece make it a better viewing experience or not? Sure, you get a kick out of the music and the artifacts, as well as knowing the details of how it all turned out—but in some ways that’s the problem, too. Try as the principal actors might to inject some suspense here, there’s no way you don’t know the ending to the story (which is really a beginning, after all), and that fact drains out a large amount of the drama. Still, the movie deserves credit for its precise recreation of the past, and Matt Damon performs yeoman's work in making the stakes for his character Sonny seem pretty close to life and death, for the company at least if not any of the people involved. Most intriguing may be scriptwriter Alex Convery’s decision to make one character present but mostly not a presence in the tale; that makes the story more about those other folks than the one person in the tale everybody already knows all about. The one big misstep comes at the crucial moment, when the pitch is made by recounting everything that hasn’t happened yet but will, as if the future itself is intruding upon the depicted past; it makes for a scene that is just not believable, and contrary to the rest of this story's telling. Still, the overall impression is of a well-played game. I wouldn’t say that this film soars to unprecedented heights, a la a certain basketball legend, but I think it does score enough points to come away with a win.

Asteroid City

See, this is why artsy types get beaten up. Wes Anderson’s flamboyant use of artifice and affectation keeps growing ever more out of control with every movie he makes, to the point now where a former fan such as myself is forced to ask, is all the weirdness for the sake of weirdness a strategy to hide behind? Or is it a means to hide the simple fact that there’s actually no there there? I’m not ready to declare Anderson a total fraud—I think he does still have interesting stuff on his mind—but it is less and less evident that he can be successful in putting said ideas on the screen. This film serves as a model for that problem: everything is so unusual, and seemingly without much point to it, that it’s hard to give this work credit, even though there’s enough going on to hold the viewer's attention throughout (even when the story drags a bit). Put together, you get a movie that is not bad so much as it is baffling, even for a viewer who wants something more sophisticated than cookie-cutter entertainment. It is also worth noting that this film’s huge ensemble cast works against it; the audience is so wrapped up in noticing who is on the screen to pay as much attention to what is actually happening. (Apparently, there’s a reason for the typical “two stars plus a cast of minor players” movie formula.) It would be nice to see this auteur return to his earlier standards of work, but at this point it seems like he is too lost in his own head to ever connect with a broader audience again. Talk about being lost in the stars.

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom

There’s a reason you never hear a huckster holler “rotten fish!” Not even the most energetic and unethical salesman could sell anyone on a bucket of chum like this. Here’s a tip for your superhero movie: when the story’s villain makes his appearance, the audience should not be saying, “Wait, who is this guy?” It turns out, in this case, he’s some leftover character from the first Aquaman movie—one who apparently made so little impression that the viewer here has no idea who he is, why he does what he does, or even if he’s really a bad guy. And that’s one of the clearer aspects of this turd. This a movie that doesn’t know what it wants to be, on a grand scale. It suffers from sloppy storytelling throughout. The tone is inconsistent from one scene to the next: one moment it wants to be a buddy comedy, the next it’s a ponderously epic and ultra-serious drama, and then after that it’s all CGI-drenched action sequence—then lather, rinse, repeat. The whole piece is just a ridiculous mishmash of a film that has no guiding idea. Even in its best moments the script is clumsy and uninspired. And then, on top of all that, add in some really bad acting. Not even Jason Momoa's typically charismatic presence can redeem this fundamentally flawed exercise in brainless spectacle. Honestly, a student filmmaker with no particular knowledge of comic books could have made a better movie than this. Perhaps that hints at the real problem with these DC flicks: there’s too much focus on trying to be grandiose. A smaller story with a tighter, more human-scale focus might serve these characters better. Trying to make everything epic just leads to absurdity—and to these kinds of polluted waters. Stay out of this sea, for your own good.

The Addams Family (2019)

I was worried that this version of the longtime satirical weirdos would be defanged by being a film made with a children’s audience in mind. I need not have been worried. This animated installment of the franchise doesn’t rise to the levels of the earlier, live-action films from the early ‘90s—still classics of the dark humor genre to my mind—but it delivers enough genuine laughs that anyone can feel comfortable with this version of the characters. The standout, as usual, is Wednesday; she seems to be the character the whole concept revolves around, and as such all the best moments belong to her and her story. There are some faults; the humor could be a bit more dry and droll in places, and a few musical choices could be better. (Honestly, does every even vaguely creative work now need to be drenched in rap music?) Plus, the denouement is a bit timid, probably due to the family nature of the target audience; you’d like to see the villain hit a little harder in the end, but ... you know, the kids. Still, there’s enough to like here that the flaws can be overlooked. It may not be a total snap, but this is at least a song that’s catchy enough.

Amélie

I re-watched this classic—no. 3 on my personal list—for the first time in a long time with what I hoped would be a critical eye. I wanted to find the flaws, to discover real reasons to do something other than gush about how great this film is. ... And I failed, because there are no flaws here. This truly is one of the greatest movies ever made: clever, fun, artsy, quirky, wise and foolish, compassionate, loving, and joyful. Audrey Tautou is a vision of loveliness throughout, so much so that you wonder how a girl that beautiful could also be that weird and insecure, yet never for a moment does the viewer doubt the sincerity of Mme. Poulain's painful relationship with the rest of the world. Her pas de deux with Mathieu Kassovitz’s Nico is utterly charming, even when it edges towards being exasperating over the characters’ inability to seal the deal. Finally, the very French-ness of everything gives the proceedings just the right touch of being far away, in some ways like a fairy tale, while still maintaining a universality that can touch deep inside every viewer. Perhaps this movie’s greatest trait is its compassion and understanding for those for whom life just isn't easy (as we see with both Amélie herself and the regulars at the Cafe Deux Moulins—a collection of funny, strange, and most human people.) At such a great remove of time, it’s difficult to remember what a supernova this film was when it was first released; regular re-viewing is imperative to appreciate this one in all its glory. Best of All, now and forever. Vive Amélie!

Allied

Part of this story is set in Casablanca...but its mind is on Casablanca all the way through. Indeed, this movie doesn’t just take a number of its cues from that most famous of films, but it is very much a not-so-funhouse mirror image of that cinematic legend. Hell, there are even moments sprinkled throughout where the now-aging Brad Pitt even looks a bit like Humphrey Bogart. (Co-star Marion Cotillard, though talented and impressive in performance, doesn’t quite measure up to or resemble Ingrid Bergman.) This being the world of today, things don’t work out quite as well for these characters as with the habitués of Rick’s. Nevertheless, the full package ends up as a decently-crafted thriller, one that has enough twists and turns to keep the plot interesting without wrapping itself up into a Moebus strip of too-clever confusion (a failing of all too many mystery-spy-intrigue flicks). Mission: mostly successful.

Avatar: The Way of Water

I can’t help thinking that this story could have been told with a bit more economy. And I don’t just mean as regards the lavish amount of money that was obviously spent to put all those CGI visuals on the screen. One suspects that the plot, as presented, could have been shown in the standard two hours instead of the three-plus clicks you get here without any real degradation of the telling. This is not to say that this flick indulges in a heavy dose of padding—perhaps to make it more epic and thus justify its price tag—but a few less and/or shorter sequences of ostensibly awe-inspiring vision of the fantastical might have chopped the running time down a bit. It’s a real commitment to watch this film. At least those visuals are indeed state of the art; Cameron doesn’t kid around when he’s in world-building mode. Other aspects of the production do raise questions. On the performances of the cast, it’s hard to make a judgment, due to most of the thespians being almost wholly digitized. Are these CGI characters striking powerful emotional notes, or just making hysterical ham sandwiches of their scenes? Hard to say given the distance, so to speak, between the viewer and the unreal actors. “Avatar” is not just a plot device in the film but a fundamental aspect of the whole production. (And, despite this site’s standards, a "hiss" can only express so much.) Also, it’s hard not to downgrade the movie for utilizing the trope of bringing dead people back to life; it opens the whole thing to the charge of simply being a recycled product. And after all, shouldn’t a work of hard science fiction—and this film otherwise qualifies—refrain from a device so unscientific, even if it’s dolled up with cloning and other sciencey hand-waving? Finally, this is meant to be the middle movie of a trilogy, and that always brings its own storytelling issues. Still, even with its questionable aspects and a long running time, it must be noted that this film never drags; your interest rarely wanes throughout the length of this journey. This work rests right on the cusp of that fine line between a fully fledged positive review and so-so label. A MEOW seems right to me, but your mileage may vary considerably, wherever you’re coming from.

Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania

The MCU's sardonic cul-de-sac adds one more showcase home. Is it as “nice” as the earlier constructions? Well, clearly no expense was spared, and it displays many of the features you would like if you’re in the market to buy: a strong cast of likable actors, plenty of eye candy (in the visual effects, not necessarily in the hottie sense), and your occasional decent stab at humor -- but frankly, the neighborhood has seen better days. It doesn’t particularly resemble the place it once was. And some of the new house’s features are somewhat odd and seemingly not entirely a good fit; they’re not necessarily innovations that a buyer couldn’t live without. All in all, this isn’t a bad movie, but it’s not something you should have been clamoring to pay money to see -- better to be a subscriber and have waited for this one to move into its permanent digs, where the value is much higher than in the newly-made market. That's hardly a level worthy of aspiration, but that seems to be where this thing is now. Whether you really need to visit this place depends pretty much entirely upon you.

Aladdin

A re-viewing review of the longtime Best of All favorite. After having had my view of the Disney universe hierarchy severely challenged by watching this film's predecessor (Beauty and the Beast), I narrowly maintain that this work still represents the zenith of the canon. Like BATB, this classic features amazing animation, terrific songs, a great story with strong emotional underpinnings—both films have it all. So what nudges Aladdin ever so slightly into the lead? On top of everything else, it’s fun and funny, which is ground upon which Belle and company mostly don’t tread. That is largely the product of Robin Williams’ insanely great performance as the Genie—and the animators’ ability to play off his antics with memorable and equally zany visuals. Also worth noting is that the stakes are so high in this tale; unlike other Disney villains, whose schemes are mostly evil on an interpersonal level, Jafar is actually out to rule the world, not to make a fur coat. He is the most truly dangerous character in all the canon, and is so expertly portrayed in voice by Jonathan Freeman that his presence elevates the proceedings onto a higher plane. Even after all these years, Aladdin remains a great movie to watch, one of the top films of all time—I have it at No. 6 on my personal Top 10 list—and it stands up not just to the ravages of time and the faultiness of memory, but also to any potential challenges from other films, no matter how great they are. Truly, this movie created a whole new world of cinematic enjoyment, and its treasure remains shiny and bright to this day.

Anomalisa

How do you present weirdness for the general public’s consumption? Well, it turns out a puppet show doesn’t turn the trick. This film is relentlessly strange, even down to the terribly-sung song over the closing credits—an act of aggressive refusal to conform to any standard of expectation that an audience might have for a movie. Under certain circumstances, that might be a description of brilliance; here, it seems to be Charlie Kaufman being a more outsized version of his usual, cryptic self. This flick's animation ultimately represents an awful lot of effort in the service of presenting a story that shifts away from mundanity only in so far as its characters are crazy—which is not exactly most viewers' idea of a good time. Whatever profundity others may have found in this outing, I personally could not get into. A major disappointment.

The Aristocats

An instructive example of where the Disney studio stood about 40 years into the project—and it’s not a particularly encouraging example. Nothing particularly clever lives here. Compare this film's style to the wit of Aladdin or the Pixar movies (particularly the earlier ones) and this flick hardly seems like the product of the same studio (and, in a very real sense, it’s not, when you consider the difference in eras and crews).  On the animation itself, as befits films of this timeframe, characters are more roughly drawn, though backgrounds are still beautifully rendered. Some of the musical numbers here are entertaining and even a bit sophisticated for a Disney work of this era, but at the same time, much of the comedy is juvenile and slapstick, as we’ve seen in previous outings from the same production team. In the larger picture, one thing becomes clear at this point, after having watched four decades of the filmography: Disney films back in the day were consistently backwards looking, always set in the past, and as a result—or as an intentional product, depending—are inherently regressive and conservative in outlook. It is a wonder, after all, that the studio not only became what it eventually became—today something far beyond a movie studio—but that Disney was even what it was back then: a property that had a lot of clout and cachet even in its period of decline. Bottom line for this work: it is barely above Saturday morning cartoon quality, and it would be almost another two decades before Walt’s baby would see its revival. I guess "what's in a name" is something more than we imagine.

Alice in Wonderland (1951)

Quite good, for a Disney adaptation. The animation is very strong, the characterization of Alice herself is spot on, and the story (stories, actually) are presented with a large dose of fealty to Carroll’s original works (at least so far as I can remember them after all these years). After a few pedestrian entries in the filmography, this movie comes across as a refreshing success, even if it was under appreciated in its time. It worked for me.

The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad

Watches like a longish episode of the old Wonderful World of Disney TV show…which makes sense, given I probably saw this very work on that very show back in my childhood days. There’s nothing particularly wrong with either of the vignettes presented herein, other than a little too much reliance on slapstick. That’s especially grievous in the case of the Toad piece, where all the sense of lyric beauty of Graham’s original writing is largely lost in the service of showcasing comedy. A full treatment of the Wind in the Willows, shifting back and forth between Toad's antics and the natural character of Rat's and Mole's lives on the river, could have been more interesting (though might not have produced the theme park’s "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride." I guess you have to prioritize ... As for the treatment of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, the mean, jockish guy gets the hot, blonde chick--but you already knew that. That's about the only takeaway from the second set piece. The animation in both sequences is impressive, while the songs are largely paint-(or, rather, sing-)by-numbers works, the kinds of tunes where the chorus just repeats the character’s name over and again. Narration by Basil Rathbone and Bing Crosby add a touch of class and star power to the proceedings. Otherwise, this flick overall is modestly above average, but hardly a masterpiece. Probably it's still good for today's kids, and nostalgic adults, but entertainment has moved so far on and away from the displayed world and culture and society that I suspect few ever watch movies like this anymore, outside of maybe a few quirks in smalltown Utah. I can’t quite decide if that’s a good development or not. I guess history will ultimately decide.

An American Pickle

I'm going to say that this movie comes across, both in terms of its conception of itself and its target audience, as being very specific. Jewish? Unquestionably; Jewishness is a cornerstone of the plot, so much so that one can say without a doubt that this is probably the Jewiest movie since the Coen Brothers' A Serious Man. Stoner? Considering the source, Seth Rogen, that's a no-brainer. There's a lot of humor in here that qualifies as humor only if you're watching under the influence. Brooklyn hipster? Seems that way, if you count the segment of that population that is fine with laughing at themselves. (That might be a mere sliver of the total cohort, but perhaps enough to count.) All of the above? Probably so. Ultimately, the target audience here, when viewed in the aggregate, seems to be...Seth Rogen. That would explains how he is in virtually every shot of the movie, and how it largely lacks any other big names. So this is really a personal project to the extreme, a movie tailored almost entirely to an audience of Seth Rogen. Is that enough to make it worth watching? Are you Seth Rogen? Then sure, go for it. Are you Seth Rogen-adjacent? In that case, it will probably work for you, too. If you're anyone else...Maybe, maybe not. In cinematic terms, the movie has enough mildly amusing elements to make it a solid effort, if not something spectacular. At a certain point, it looks like the film will follow a Being There trajectory, putting Rogen's Herschel in the stead of a modern Chance, but the plot then veers off in a different direction, one that seems to leave opportunities for real, biting social satire left unfulfilled. That's the overall sense here: a movie that is OK at what it is trying to do, but that could have been a lot smarter and more impactful had a bit more effort been put into it beyond creating the two main characters. Maybe, this one just needed to brine a bit longer to end up with a better, crisper product.

Alien: Resurrection

It becomes obvious early on that this flick was made mostly so Sigourney Weaver could have most, if not all, of the good lines. At least this time out she gets to trade in the previous outings' desperation for something more like occasional devilishness. That, and the bulk of this movie, are at least somewhat entertaining, even if at this point everything presented is redundant and derivative. Most interesting about this movie, in hindsight, is who was working behind the camera: Jean-Pierre Jeunet directed, and Joss Whedon wrote the script, both before going on to much bigger things. Say what you will about this franchise--and it's been all over the map--but it has always attracted top talent, even if its every presentation amounts to just a one note, dolled-up haunted house story. In this case, that's not enough to make a classic, but I never wanted to turn it off, either, so I guess that's a draw. Like its signature beastie, the series is a survivor.