jhall-4

Having grown up in a very small town (less than 1000 people), I was naturally very interested to see this movie. And at least for the first 30 minutes, when it dealt with the bar and people in the little Mississippi town of Shannon, it was interesting. But then they gave Fred Phelps 15 minutes to spout off, and that was really irritating. That deals with religious bigotry and has little direct connection to the "small town" theme. I thought about leaving, but sat for a while longer, and some more treatment of a couple of other small places in Mississippi was given, But then came another amount of time given over to Wildmon's American Family Association. I could see we were going to be subjected to more of the Phelps-style harangue, so this time I really walked out. I would have liked to have seen more "small town" treatment, and the post-film Q&A with students of the local university which hosted the showing would have been interesting, but I just couldn't sit through any more. A worthwhile theme poorly treated.

I saw this movie a long time ago and liked it, but don't have enough memory of it to write an actual "review." But I thought that the Portuguese setting and characters were very interesting for an adaptation of Dickens, and encourage others to seek it out. The characters are given new (Portuguese) names. I found Janet Maslin's review in the October 6, 1988, New York Times, and want to comment on her review. She makes the common mistake (in my opinion) of confusing the adaptation with the original work (the Dickens novel), and gives a negative review of the movie because it is not the same as the novel. I find that especially troubling for a "professional critic", which I feel sure Maslin would claim to be. I usually have no problem separating the 2 things in my mind and appreciating both works (or not, as the case may be). The critic should critique the movie, not her idea of what the movie should be. It would be helpful for IMDb users if the title Hard Times could be added as an indexing point for the movie, even though apparently it doesn't actually occur in the movie's title.

I watched A Taste of Cherry when recently televised on Turner Classic Movies and felt that part of it was left out. The main character meets two men he asks for assistance with his suicide, both of whom refuse. Then there is a scene where he comes across a big piece of road construction or rock crushing equipment, where he parks his vehicle and sits for a while. A worker asks him to move his vehicle so the construction vehicle can perform it's work, and the man gets up, apparently to move the vehicle. The next moment shows the man in his car talking to someone, who is not seen for a few minutes, but is clearly the third man he picks up to help him with the suicide. But what I assume would be the first part of that sequence, where he meets the third man, is not shown. I wonder if TCM omitted that part, since otherwise the film moves in a perfectly linear fashion.

Masterpiece theatreish movies aren't my cup of (very British) tea, so I don't find much interesting about the movie with a couple of exceptions, and I will leave it to others to gush with praise. Of course the performances are fine (those British can act) and it was a treat to see Claire Bloom again, if only briefly (and even if I didn't recognize her at all). It struck me odd that the future king, who was surely reared better, would act so ungentlemanly toward Logue, even if the latter certainly takes social liberties. Does noblesse no longer oblige? But I was particularly surprised at the choice of (mostly) background music, especially at the climactic point of the big speech about Britain going to war with Germany. I wonder why they chose all German music (slow movement of Beethoven's 7th symphony and slow movement of Beethoven's 5th ("Emperor") piano concerto. Surely it isn't explained by the German blood in the royal family. Surely they could have found some rousing music by British composers.

Let the Right One In was my favorite movie a couple of years ago (along with Goodbye, Solo). So I was both eager and hesitant to see Let Me In, but more eager after I read the positive reviews. I found them to be justified. I propose that when we see something, and then later a variation on it, we nearly always prefer the first, a psychological thing. And I definitely prefer the Swedish film, and for some other reasons. Let Me In is good and a very worthy remake, but it is a remake of the Swedish film almost scene for scene, despite mentioning only the novel in the credits. Not much is added, and a number of less sophisticated devices (music growing in volume at climactic points, for example)are negatives. I did find one thing to be interesting about Let Me In. I do not recall (from two year's distance) that the Swedish movie radiated any sexual feeling (which one might expect from a vampire film, and which I found to be a good thing), but the new American remake includes sexual feelings, especially of the boy, at a number of times and in, for the most part, good, subtle ways. I find that natural, since he's 12 years old. I liked Let Me In, but see little need for such a literal remake, except for those who dislike seeing movies in non-English languages or those who liked the original and are simply curious, as I was, about how it would compare.

Somebody compared Sonny Boy to the above. I think not. Maybe Wes Craven crossed with John Waters. An OK 70s cult film which inexplicably wandered into the 80s. One lapse in the screenplay. Sonny Boy's voice is taken from him by removing his tongue. Well, the tongue has nothing to do with production of the voice; it's the larynx that produces the voice; the tongue governs articulation of the sounds already produced. So he would always have had a voice, even if only grunts. I must admit I couldn't figure out who the heck David Carridine in the movie was until the final credits, which pairs the actors with the roles. I had to wind back and look at his face carefully to recognize him.

Several have pointed out that The Immortal Story is based on a novel by Isak Dinesen, as the credits state. As I watched it, and learned that Paul and Virginie are the names of the lovers, I recalled that at least two French works have been written with the title: Paul et Virginie. A play by Jean Cocteau, and a novel by Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, who lived 1737-1814. I wonder if Welles (or Dinesen?) might have been influenced by those works, or at least the Saint-Pierre, but I can't tell any real similarity in the plots, perhaps in the poignant tone of the love story. The Saint-Pierre novel is a pastoral about two children who were brought up on an exotic island (Mauritius?) as brother and sister (although they are not). Virginie is sent away to France to become educated and society-worthy, and to separate the children. But she insists on returning to Paul, her true love, and dies in a shipwreck before she gets back to the island. Young love thwarted.

I saw The Conformist on Turner Classic Movies several days ago (Sept., 2006), after not seeing it since the early 70s. I had several seemingly vivid memories from it, stemming from some of the magnificently imaginative visuals, but was shocked by how little I actually remembered of the movie. The Turner Classic Movies host, with whom we are all familiar, and who does such a good job of hosting, and giving off the air of a movie expert, mentioned Bertolucci's recent Dreamers, then said that compared with it, The Conformist is "not racy at all." Now we know that he hasn't seen all the movies he introduces! Somebody commented that Marcello was raped by his chauffeur, and somebody else noted that no sex actually took place (though the scene was surely "racy"). I assume it was not Marcello's chauffeur, since the two introduced themselves to each other while in the car.

Others have mentioned favorite scenes, such as the ladies' tango, and the blowing leaves, and I certainly concur with those. I'll bring up a couple I liked that have not been mentioned: when Giulia does her coquettish dance to the record that someone brought back "from America", lifting one hand and foot and then the other to the sexy rhythm; the shopping scene in Paris (which someone did mention), beginning with a focus on the cat's head on Anna's fur, then shifting to her dog's head. (Was it a Bouvier des Flandres, or maybe a black Briard?) Somebody commented that the movie began in Italy, but the first scene is actually a flash forward to the hotel in Paris, with Marcello waiting for his phone call. Of course you don't know this until you see the same hotel later, and its name, when Giulia and Marcello are honeymooning there.

It's certainly a stimulating and powerful movie, but I can see why some were put off by the coldness of the protagonist, reflected throughout much of the movie. Dominique Sanda was just amazing. I remember Pierre Clementi (the chauffeur), from Belle de Jour.

Spirit of the Beehive, which I had heard of for years, but saw for the first time in July, 2006, held my interest, although after a few minutes I got the feeling that there would be a quiz afterward: explain this and that symbol or metaphor; discuss the theme of childhood in movies and compare to Truffaut, Ponette, The children are watching us, etc. If Ingmar Bergman had made a Spanish movie, this would have been it. Others have mentioned Bergman here, and Woody Allen's Interiors, his Bergman movie. I feel others here have sensed the high degree of "intellectualization" of Spirit of the Beehive, and found it distasteful. I want to bring up something that struck me that I have not seen mentioned by anyone else. I felt that the fugitive discovered by Ana in the barn was the mother's lover, to whom the mother was writing the letter in the opening scenes. He might also be Ana's father, since she and he are dark-haired and the other family members are blonde. I had taped the movie from television, and could wind back to where Ana looks at the old family photographs. I thought there might have been more clues there about this, but didn't find any. One of those "themes" I allude to above is the man-nature relationship, which I also have not seen brought up here. The bee-keeping father who knows all about poisonous mushrooms represents Dr. Frankenstein (not the monster, as someone else says), man toying with nature. One could go on to say that he represents rationalism (along with daughter Isabel), where the mother and Ana are more on the side of sensations, a typical theme of Romanticism, the cultural environment of Shelley's novel. I don't want to go on farther with this, and am prepared to be found incorrect, but these thoughts definitely suggested themselves to me.

And I was so surprised at how well Joseph Conrad works in a Mexico City setting. I noticed that there were no comments on this movie so far, and, since I liked it a lot when I saw it around 15 years ago (it's 2006 now)I want to draw people's attention to it. I can't go into much detail about it after that long a time. It's an understated but fascinating story of the relationship between the two women (the mother of the guy who ran off to sea years earlier and has never come back and her younger co-worker in a large office). The younger woman becomes interested, even romantically, in him just from hearing about him, and you, the audience, do, too. Then when he suddenly appears one day, both she and you are in for having your romantic illusions shattered. I was very struck by the last visuals, involving scenes from the ocean, apparently invading a Mexico City apartment. I found on the web that the English title was Shipwreck (though I don't recall that title), and that it was based on Conrad's short story: Tomorrow, which I must try to find and read. I hope my comments will inspire others to find this affecting "little" movie. Note to IMDb: Could "Shipwrecked" be added as an alternative title, or cross reference?

I saw it for the first time last night (Jan. 2006--should have seen it years ago) on TCM (thank goodness for them, and Robert Osborne). I enjoyed the movie and agree with nearly everything positive said here in IMDb. But has anybody commented (including Osborne) that the movie is a pretty blatant ripoff of Ninotchka? Same general situation, same three central character-types. Jean Arthur in the Garbo role; Dietrich sort of in the Ina Claire role (two actresses playing off each other, as another poster said, "at the other end of the spectrum"); John Lund in the Melvyn Douglas role. I don't want to take the comparison of the two actresses too far, since they are actually reversed. Arthur, the comic technician, playing the uptight role, where in Ninotchka Garbo the woman of instinct played it. It was a bit painful to see Dietrich forced to play someone who ends up so unsympathetic (in my view). Was she made to pay American audiences back for the years of Nazism and war? Re: Wilder's Berlin movies, I guess I need to see One, Two, Three again sometime. 40 years ago it seemed quite awful. Cagney made to run around in unfunny manic confusion like Grant was in Arsenic and Old Lace.

The Museum of Fine Arts Houston had three viewings of Paris, Texas, this last weekend (Dec. 10-12, 2004) as a 20th anniversary tribute. Guests were Kit Carson, co-screenwriter, and his son, Hunter Carson, who played the seven-year old boy in the movie. The house was packed, with many from what passes for the "film industry" in Houston. Kit and Hunter (now 27, I guess) were introduced, then a 20-minute short directed by Hunter, with Tim Roth, was shown, then the feature, then a Q&A period. Lots of discussion. It was fun for Houstonians to see the use of Texas and (particularly) Houston scenes (vintage 1984). Crazy geography, of course, for those who live here. The road trip where Travis and Hunter follow Jane starts on one freeway, to switch immediately to a freeway on another side of town, then another freeway switcheroo. No problem; it's the movies.

Many here have lauded the movie, and I certainly liked it last night (as I did 20 years ago), and will try not to repeat what others have said. I especially liked the home movie that Travis' brother shows when he is staying with the family in Los Angeles. It contains the first view one has of the elusive ex-wife, Jane (Kinsky) and you should feel really pulled in by the former happiness of the little family, and eager for the return of that bliss, as Travis apparently is. I also really liked the first visit of Travis to the peep show in Houston where Jane works. (The exteriors of that scene were actually filmed in Galveston, but it apparently is supposed to be in Houston, since Travis on his second visit tells Jane the boy is "downtown" in room 1520 of the Meridien hotel.) In that first scene, Kinski is totally iconic on the screen, pure soul.

I do not like the sentimental and unlikely ending, however, which has Jane re-uniting with the son, and suddenly ready to take him with her and take care of him. Not bloody likely, I say. He has a much better home waiting for him back in Los Angeles with the uncle and his wife (Stockwell and Clement). And I did not like Kinski's lengthy speech during the second visit, in which she mainly says, over and over to Travis, "I kept on hearing your voice." I felt the movie stop dead during that speech, and it was the only time I looked at my watch. After's Travis' speech in that scene, he should just tell her where the boy is and leave the booth. Other endings are possible too, especially if you feel, with me, that Hunter cannot end up with Jane.

The Triplets of Belleville has about enough content for 40 minutes, but unfortunately lasts nearly 80. They should have taken a lesson from Nick Park, whose Wallace and Gromit: A Close Shave this film particularly resembles. The Wallace and Gromit goodies last only about 30 minutes. Less is more, and restraint is a virtue. The first half of Triplets had a lot of witty inventiveness, and I enjoyed it a lot, but, from the time the mother meets up with the aged triplets, I started squirming and checking my watch. It takes too long to be over. A question: what/where is Belleville, sort of a french fried Manhattan? It has a Statue of Liberty, but European signage (speed limits, etc.) and wall sockets (for the vacuum cleaner).

I agree with the positive comments of others, and won't add much here. I loved the movie, especially for its excesses, but felt uncomfortable in the late part when Cage terrorizes the woman played by Maria Conchita Alonzo, feeling that it went a bit too far. I have two favorite moments: I had begun feeling that the film was "Kafkaesque" (and Kafka is my favorite writer, so that was a compliment), and then noticed that the little framed photo that the Cage character had in his office was---ta da!--none other than Franz himself! I also loved the moment when he ran into a novelty store, then exited and ran maniacally down the street with the newly purchased plastic vampire teeth protruding out of his mouth. Alas, as with other successful actors, now Cage seems trapped into making the big budget action Hollywooders. It has to happen to the successful ones. (Denzel Washington, anyone?)