The Wizard of Oz

No, I didn’t try the Dark Side of the Moon thing; maybe next time. It’s an astonishing fact that, until now, I had never watched this movie all the way through from start to finish; I had only seen pieces of it here and there. Now I can report that the effort is well worth it. The story is a marvel, chock full of fun and pleasure, interesting symbolism, and more than a bit of old-fashioned wisdom. From a visual standpoint the film is hard to beat, even at this late stage. The look of everything holds up remarkably well, and that moment when Dorothy opens the door and step out of the sepia into that technicolor dreamscape is pure magic. Judy Garland is terrific as Dorothy, even if she was a tad old for the role (the character comes across as somewhat younger than the teenager Garland depicts). The supporting cast performs admirably throughout, including Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch, and Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr and Jack Haley as the Scarecrow, the Lion, and the Tin Woodsman, respectively, perform perfectly in their roles. And that’s not just in the acting—they nail it in the singing and dancing, too. The musical numbers throughout are great, and the score perfectly complements the action, with “Over the Rainbow” serving not just as the lead number but also as the primary musical theme as well (with a touch of help from Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain at the Witch’s castle). It is all a delightfully rich tapestry, one that has grown over time to be one of the most beloved movies ever, and deservedly so. It is worth noting that this film is thoroughly within the realm of fantasy stories, even given its literary roots (with the book’s symbolic agenda of critiquing the then-current economic structure), and that that genre has always come in for its share of criticism and outright dismissal from those who pretend to be intellectually superior—yet, it is this fantasy tale that has endured and continues to have cultural relevance, while less whimsical works like, for instance, Dark Victory (another 1939 academy award nominee) is hardly remembered these days. Maybe stories that see the world in more colorful dimensions truly are the ones that inspire us the most. Something to think about the next time you feel like watching or reading the latest work about modern suburban angst or some such thing. As for me, I’ll gladly go over the rainbow to bring a bit of brightness to my own angsty life. 

Clueless

See, this is how I like my Jane Austen: looking nothing like Jane Austen. There is an argument to be made that this film represents the pinnacle, the zenith, the high water mark of American culture. The amazing script by writer and director Amy Heckerling, with its gentle, loving skewering of California Culture (and by extension the greater American milieu that took its cues from the Golden State), simply bursts with clever lines and visual jokes that mock yet also admire the relative innocence of the country circa 1995, back before everything here began to turn to madness. The translation of that script into greatness is powered mostly by an astonishing, one of a kind performance by Alicia Silverstone as Cher; she is the perfect embodiment of everything that was shallow yet wholesome about the country back in those long gone days. Cast mates Paul Rudd, Stacey Dash, the dearly-missed Brittany Murphy, Breckin Meyer, Donald Faison, Dan Hedaya, and more provide note perfect accompaniment to Silverstone's tour de force. And a terrific soundtrack of perfectly chosen songs sets the mood all the way through this journey of laughs and delights. Without a doubt, this is a Best of All work, and is only not included in the Top 10 of all time simply because there are just too many great movies to fit within that numerical framing, but this flick stands behind few other works of cinema, especially as regards comedies. Is it even possible to call oneself a movie fan if you’ve never seen this masterpiece? As if!

E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial

A re-viewing, maybe for the first time since its premiere, after about forty years. So I was able to view it with something approximating fresh eyes. Seeing this most well known and iconic of films in that way created some surprises. For instance, this movie is a case study in deeply emotional storytelling; for all of its sci-fi elements, there’s very little in here that speaks to any particular technical concepts. A lot of the second half of the film is devoted to heartstring-tugging, and it achieves its goal quite effectively. Yes, I cried at the big tearjerker scene—you know the one—in the theater the first time; but I found myself teary-eyed even more so this time around, not just for that one scene but for much more of the film, and for external reasons, too (to wit: I found myself touched thinking of all that has changed, and been lost, in these past four decades.) The film’s setting is truly another time and place, one that is somewhat familiar to me though long gone now. And the minor revelation, on watching this again, was just how good the kids were in their roles. All of E.T.’s adoptive family members brought something good to the proceedings, especially the astonishingly young Drew Barrymore; I remembered her for having a few good lines, but in truth she nails a great deal of her dialogue in a way that makes the story so much better than it would have been without her. Remarkable stuff for someone only 6 years old. Henry Thomas is fine as well, in a really demanding part. There can be a few quibbles, if you want: the depiction of the government agents is somewhat cartoonish, though in fairness we didn’t quite have the sense in the eighties of the government being quite so sophisticated in its villainy. And really, the star’s second act is a deus ex machina that takes believability to its limit (though of course the whole tale requires massive suspension of disbelief). None of that diminishes the achievement—this is a true classic, one that redefined the science fiction genre in ways that still show up to this day in a regular subset of films. Almost but not quite Best of All material, but that hardly means you shouldn’t watch it again—and you certainly must watch it for a first time if you’ve never seen it before. May we all get to be kids again and feel the wonder once more. 

When Harry Met Sally...

Quintessential. That is the only term that truly captures the full depth of this film. It is the quintessential romantic comedy. It is, among a host of contenders, perhaps the quintessential New York movie, so much so that it can even make a dedicated urbanophobe see the appeal of living in Manhattan. It is quintessentially of its time—it was released in 1989, that enormously portentous year—and yet it transcends that moment and feels timeless. (A soundtrack that bursts with all-time great music helps in a big way to convey that sense of a work for the ages.) The entire presentation is flawless. Also, this is a very generous movie, with a script that shares the glory—and greatest lines—among the players, including a legendary line delivered by the director’s mother, of all people. Some of the concepts about romance that are established pieces of the lore today first came to our attention in this film: low/high maintenance girlfriends, transitional relationships, and can they/can’t they dynamics. It’s all a spectacular, rewarding viewing experience. Best of All hardly covers it, but there is no higher complement from the Bad Cat. Watch it again, watch it regularly, and just fall in love with it.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

For what is supposed to be “the greatest animated film of all time,” it sure does have a lot of flaws. Many of the songs aren’t exactly toe tappers; indeed, for every “Heigh-Ho,” there are several insipid numbers with the title character singing about nonsense. And indeed, Snow herself is one of the weak spots; frankly, she’s kind of a dipshit. More problematic still are several of the dwarf sequences, which tend to run long in the service of generating a lot of slapstick but serve little to advance the story. The queen’s sequences, in contrast, are tight and move the plot along. And finally, a great deal of the story is told through onscreen exposition; we jump ahead via title cards where a simple explanatory scene would have done better. So why then does this movie merit such respect? It must be remembered that a great deal of what happens on screen here was original innovation; many of the techniques of animation and characterization may have had their debuts in earlier Disney shorts, but they came to full flower—and were viewed by the broadest audience in this, the first feature length animation. It is still a wonder to watch the artistry that went into this work—character representation and movement, rich background art, impressive visual effects—and appreciate the immense talent of those who made this creation possible. Some of this tale may seem to today’s audience to be hopelessly dated, but it is still a monumental achievement in motion picture history. One final interesting note, that also touches on the difference between today and yesteryear: unlike many of today’s oh-so-carefully ethnically balanced endeavors, in the service of (depending upon your perspective) diversity and equality or indentitarianism, this movie is squarely the product of a Eurocentric and decidedly uniform cultural viewpoint—and, from this viewer's vantage point, it’s much better for that singular frame of mind. The vision remains focused and true to itself, while not trying to serve any greater agenda. The success here strongly suggests that, instead of trying to shoehorn a DEI checklist into every production, maybe it would be better to just let particular works have their own focus, without trying to serve a societal master plan, without forcing everyone to toe a sociopolitical line. Just a thought. But this movie is now a relic from another time and place, and perhaps there really is no going back. At least we still have this work, through which we can occasionally visit that foreign land ... and witness some brilliant artistry in the process. Happily ever after indeed.

Casablanca

A re-viewing review of the greatest movie ever made. Why does this film deserve such lofty acclaim? How can it not? Look at the cast. Humphrey Bogart at his greatest--a definitive role that solidified his place among the silver screen's most powerful immortals. Ingrid Bergman, absolutely luminous as the quintessential love interest. Paul Henreid is asked to act next to Bogart, and pulls off the miracle of holding his own. Support comes from major stars like Claude Rains--who steals scene after scene--and Peter Lorre in a brief but legendary performance. And that doesn’t even count all the brilliant supporting character actors who fill out every scene. Not enough for you yet? Look then at the set design: gorgeous in every detail, particularly the interiors of Rick’s. The costume design? Even a slob like me can see the clothing is first rate; everyone looks like a million bucks. On top of all that, add in a story that, on the personal level of the characters, is compelling in its own right...even if you don’t recognize that the tale itself is a genius metaphor for the contemporary geopolitical situation. Added together, it all merges to make the best movie ever, the essential Best of All classic and No 1 on the Top 10 list. Here’s looking at this one, again and again and again, as long as movies are a part of our culture.

Beauty and the Beast

Extraordinary. It is not overselling anything to call this movie the apotheosis, the true ultimate expression of what the Disney studio was moving towards over all those years, from the earliest shorts through Snow White and Fantasia to The Little Mermaid. The latter is often cited as the beginning of the studio’s revival, and it certainly played its part, but this work represents a quantum leap up from everything that came before it. Yes, you can find a few minor quibbles in the production—a few characters are a bit grating—but those concerns hardly rise to a level that dims the praise. The main characterizations are spot on, the songs are terrific, and the animation is a wonder to behold from start to finish. We’re I not such a fan of Aladdin (the next film in the sequence, and the one which I have long considered the zenith of the Disney canon), I would have to bow to this piece as the pinnacle of the series. As it is, I will satisfy myself with giving this one Best of All status, the loudest PURR possible, and the highest of recommendations. An astounding achievement.

Rashomon

Kurasowa's masterpiece of … anticipation. Virtually everything in the direction and storytelling in this work is built to generate a sense of unbridled anticipation in the viewer; you’re always looking to see what’s going to happen next. That may sound like a moviemaking universal, but as an operative concept it rarely springs to life to this extent. The story and its presentation are top notch, to be sure, and the narrative—or narratives, if you will—firmly hold the audience’s attention throughout. So there’s certainly success. Then again, this style of storytelling shares--indeed, by reputation, you could say it created--the problem other variable perspective tales (such as the recent The Last Duel) offer the viewer, even if, in this film's case, it introduces the variable deliberately; to wit: why believe one narrative is more truthful than the others? It may not be a problem here--Kurasowa seems to understand that there is no real "truth"--but this model sure has spawned a lot of problematic cinema in subsequent decades. More specifically problematic here, unless you’re Japanese or intimately familiar with the culture—and let’s face it, most of us aren’t—a lot of key aspects of motivation in this multichannel story are subtly lost, and that can make for some distraction and confusion. The complaint may be a quibble—this is undeniably a good and memorable film--but it nevertheless is there and it's real, and it has an impact on the viewer. So then, is this one of the greatest movies ever? That’s a stretch too far for this viewer. The truth--subjective, as always--is that this is a very good film, and worth watching.

Bambi

A movie made more to show off animation skill than to tell a story. Plot, such as it is, is bare bones—just a pastiche of scenes of a life in the woods (the subtitle of the source book, by the way). In terms of story, this film starts off cloying and mostly stays that way. And yet...it cannot be entirely dismissed as a secondary work. For one thing, the artwork is a feast for the eyes—and visual appeal is one of the raisons d’etre of animation. Also, the film’s balance of sentimentality and realism is well handled, despite the inherent difficulty of squaring that circle. This entry in the Disney canon also echoes the company’s often overlooked (and and just as often parodied) dedication to films about the natural world; it is, in a sense, the foundational work of that part of the organization. Ultimately, this is a movie that succeeds despite the odds against it--perhaps not as the classic it's assumed to be, but as a good enough work in its own right.

Pinocchio

The storytelling at times is cloying. The narrative is somewhat disjointed (possibly more Collodi's fault than Disney’s). Yet, this movie merits a truly loud PURR. Why? The animation, all hand-drawn, is spectacularly beautiful--especially the backgrounds, where seemingly no attention to detail is missed. And this coming in what was just the second of Disney’s full-length features. It’s a remarkable achievement. (Note, too, that I watched this not long after seeing The Little Mermaid. Both films have substantial underwater sequences, and the earlier movie did it better. Disney's mid-'80s bottom-out was as much a technical fault as well as a leadership void.) Well worth the time to view--and I do mean VIEW--this one.

From Here to Eternity

It's probably not a good sign when you spend most of a flick waiting for bombs to drop--as in Pearl Harbor. This work's Best Picture win is evidence that the movie was overvalued due to its proximity in time to WWII (and, perhaps, its alleged raciness, though in reality it's really quite tame). The film's greatest strength lies  in the performances, particularly Burt Lancaster's work as the least screwed up of the principal characters. The narrative's intertwined stories are weak and fairly uninteresting, at least to this viewer. Admittedly, I'm not really one for stories focused on the "lives and loves" of fill-in-the-blank type people, even in a normal context; set such a story against the backdrop of world-altering historical events, and that putative main subject matter comes across as unusually petty and ultimately meaningless. A major disappointment.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington

It is impossible in 2019 to watch this film without relating it to today's political madness. The corruption, the use of media to distort public opinion, the overwhelming effect of money and greed on every thread that forms our political process--all these things were understood long ago, and the testimony of the past could inform opinion today, if contemporary participants were willing to listen to that wisdom. Beyond its civic usefulness, this is a very strong piece of cinema. Director Capra shows all his skill, visual and otherwise, while James Stewart and Jean Arthur give their roles all the earnestness and cynicism, respectively, required to bring the story to its fullest expression. This should be required viewing for all Americans, and all would-be Americans as well; the lessons learned just might be the key to turning around our current dysfunction. Watch it and think about it.

The African Queen

This is one of those movies you hear about a lot, even before you ever see it. What they never tell you is, it's kind of boring. This may have to do more with my own perspective, which has decidedly less interest in how two people feel about each other, and more about what people do. There's not a lot of doing in stretches of this film, though in the end the film makes up for some of those deficiencies with a clever and satisfying resolution. Part of the problem throughout probably comes from the lack of conflict between the protagonists; Hepburn and Bogart, in their characters at least, seem quite mismatched from the start. And then they get a little too into each other too quickly. A little more conflict a little deeper into the proceedings probably would have been more entertaining. (If this film were made today, the leads certainly would hate each other until at least two-thirds of the way through; what that may say about the difference between today and the 1950s is a topic for open discussion, to be sure.) It's also notable that, given the lack of clash with the two characters who share almost all of the running time by themselves, the movie frequently resorts to using the African setting (and its cohort of animals and natural perils) as a substitute for plot and interpersonal drama. That may have impressed audiences back in the day, but it's old hat now. Everyone else can be satisfied with this one as a classic, but I insist upon more than this.

The Petrified Forest

Interesting. Another movie with a lot on its mind, more so than you'd expect from the basic premise (lost people intersect with gangsters in an isolated cafe). This flick gives you healthy doses of thoughtfulness to go along with your serving of violence. And it says something that Leslie Howard makes at least as much of an impression as Humphrey Bogart. All in all, this film is entertaining and effecting in its crisp, hour and a half running time. I think it earns its classic cred. Give it a look.

Forbidden Planet

It's like looking at a visual encyclopedia of science fiction cinema. I don't know if every sci-fi motif we see here is original to this work--probably not--or springs from earlier sources, but this film seems to be where the template was firmly established as canon. Given that, it is something of a treat to see this movie at a distance of some sixty years from its release; it has lots of nostalgia value, yet also comes across as weirdly fresh and admirably creative in its presentation. Yes, some of the effects are cheesy, but other visuals are quite good, especially considering the limitations of the time. And some interesting ideas undergird the plot and whole sense of the thing. Bottom line: it's a treat to watch and not to be missed by any fan of classic science fiction.

The Invisible Man

This film seems to succeed despite itself. Early on, today's viewer can't help but focus on some of the truly horrible acting being delivered by some of the cast. It's almost like they were trying to camp it up (and who knows, with James Whale at the helm, maybe they were). Speaking of acting, Claude Rains is the certain star of this show, even though he never really appears until the end. His performance is more akin to the voice acting done by today's animated feature stars, or perhaps more like Andy Serkis' work as the motion-capture actor extraordinaire--but in Rains' case, done decades before that tech ever came to light. That fact means Rains is almost, in a sense, wasted here; his use of expression and subtle gesture, so evident in the best of his work, is basically absent here, and his character is thus played in broader strokes. Yet, for all that which seems to work against it, the film works on the most basic level of being entertaining and a good time with a good story--not to mention what were, at the time, eye-popping special effects. It's a classic, to be sure, though not a total monument to brilliance--just a testament to the kinds of things that, in the long run, were able to make cinema something really special, even if done just for the sake of a fairly lowbrow story.

Caesar and Cleopatra (1945)

You get a pretty good sense that the film you're about to watch will be pretty good when the opening sequence reveals that the author adapted his own play for the screenplay. You feel even better about that when the author in question is George Bernard Shaw. No surprise then that this film's Shavian dialogue sparkles. The witty, sophisticated speech sounds even better when it's being delivered by Claude Rains, possibly the most underappreciated major star in the history of Hollywood. He's tremendous in the lead role here, striking the perfect balance between Caesar's majesty and middle-aged earthiness. Vivien Leigh looks good -- as always -- though she was perhaps a tad lightweight for the role of Cleopatra. She tends towards acting silly here, though that hardly weighs down the presentation too much. And 'presentation' is a good word for it: tremendous acting combined with impressive set design, and that Shavian wit in the script, make for an impressive couple of hours for the viewer. Definitely worth watching, especially for you lovers of the classics.

A Face in the Crowd

The villainy of Andy Griffith--who would have thought it? Apparently, Elia Kazan, that’s who. This film has become a standard namecheck for explaining our country’s current politics--no, Lonesome Rhodes is not Trump; Glenn Beck remains the modern model, though others are coming up fast behind him--so it’s probably must-see material at this point. Fortunately, it’s entertaining material, so you won’t get bored watching it. The only real problem is, in the end it might be too hopeful; there’s no guarantee that our ending will actually be even this happy.

The Three Musketeers

This is the version from the ‘40s with Gene Kelly as D’Artagnan. The film makes good use of Kelly’s dancing talents; his D’Artagnan is athletic and agile and makes his swordplay sequences a lot of fun to watch. The plot seems to careen wildly all over the place, with a few too many climaxes--but I suspect the filmmakers hewed fairly closely to the source material, so it’s hardly their fault for that. There’s almost a bit too much bonhomie between the Musketeers; sometimes the movie comes across as more parody than comedic adventure, but that’s a minor quibble, as is the fact that it runs just a bit too long. But this is one of those classic, old-style Hollywood adventures that you don’t see much of anymore, so it’s definitely worth a look for that alone.

The Sea Hawk

An absolutely standard, straightforward Errol Flynn swashbuckler, like many others, almost to the point of being templated. It’s a fortunate thing, then, that Flynn, director Michael Curtiz, and some familiar cast members all had that template down pat. The movie provides exactly what you expect of a old-time pirate flick, and that means high entertainment. It does run a tad long, with a bit of a dull stretch in the middle, but the payoff is worth it, and it’s ultimately a very satisfying experience.