PKC

There is a good movie in here someplace trying to get out. The main problem is a lack of focus. Is it a character study of an unlikable guy? Is it a murder mystery? Is it a polemic against capital punishment? The answer to all three is "yes." As a result, it does all of them reasonably well, but none of them as well as it might. I will give Eastwood credit for taking on a character who is so difficult to like. Of course, I must join the legions on IMDb decrying -- and laughing at -- Clint for making his character a ladies man. Maybe if he had been hitting on 55 year olds instead of hot 30 years olds it would have been more credible -- and less distasteful. But as a screed against the death penalty this movie is effective, though the deck is stacked because the accused is innocent as well as likable.

Aboslute Power is competently made and entertaining enough. Judy Davis is excellent, Hackman does Hackman and Ed Harris confirms himself as this era's top character actor. It is a pleasure to watch E.G. Marshall in one of his last roles. As one might expect because a star plays him, the criminal is a "good" criminal arrayed against a corrupt system (compare with Eastwood's Alcatraz movie, and True Crime). I am a little troubled by the depiction of the president as amoral. Is this Eastwood's statement against government in general, or the previous holder of that office? Perhaps conservative actors will make this kind of movie to balance Rob Reiner and Michael Douglas's gushy depiction of a liberal president.

Hilary and Jackie is an excellent movie, thoughtful and complex. The acting is great in all the roles, not just the eponymous characters of which we heard so much. Not that it matters, but this represents another injustice in the Best Actress Oscar category; I contend that Emily Watson far exceeded Gwyneth Paltrow, if only because this was a much more serious role in a much more serious movie. Helena Bonham Carter was robbed in a similar fashion last year (and some wonder why more people don't take these awards seriously).

This is a study of genius, the eccentricity and egotism that go with it, and their effect on those around the genius. We learn that the genius is in torment also, in ways that no one else sees. But in this family, the ties are so strong that they survive the damage the genius does. The film also nicely creates the world of classical music performance and celebrity at the highest levels in its depiction of Jackie's career and especially her relationship with Daniel Barenboim. Equally interesting, by contrast, is the way in which Hilary reconciles herself to a life of domesticity when her talent proves to be less than her sister's (she marries Kiffer Finzi, son of the distinguished British composer Gerald Finzi).

There are some pretentious moments, for example, the opening. And the course of Jackie's disease is telescoped. She seems to be diagnosed and to die in a period of about six months. In fact, about 12 years elapsed between the time she was forced to stop performing and the time she died.

Overall, I highly recommend this movie. If you don't like it, maybe you'll like the Elgar cello concerto...

Like its title, this film is dark and a little forboding. As in "Wild Strawberries," Bergman examines the implications of lives lived in isolation, this time while asking large and important questions about man's relation to God.

Four family members are spending time on a remote island as the woman (Karin) is recovering from a stay in an asylum (the island itself is a symbol of isolation). Her father, husband and brother are each alienated from her even as they try sincerely to help her. Karin is also anxious for answers to her questions about God. Is she mad or in touch with divinity at a level the rest of us cannot understand? No one knows, though each character has some ideas; her brother is best able to reach her, with terrible consequences. The final scene between the son and his father is extremely powerful.

On the whole, this is a serious and very somber movie, not easy to watch, but extremely worthwhile.

A successful, respected doctor and professor near the end of his life looks back on his years with regret and nostalgia. Bergman uses dreams and allegorical images and characters to support his thesis that the greatest waste of a life is to live it in isolation.

"Wild Strawberries" is also light and humorous in places, with a gentle and loving depiction of the doctor's family in his youth (though I think it's important that we never see the doctor interacting with his past family until the very end). He is ultimately redeemed at the end, and Bergman is saying, I think, that there is hope for us to change even until the very end of our lives, and that change is worth undertaking.

On the whole, "Wild Strawberries" makes an affirmative statement. One of the strengths of this movie, and of Bergman's work in general, is his ability to create characters who function successfully as both "types" -- embodiments of ideas, philosophies or points of view -- and also as credible individuals in a narrative about whom we care. That's difficult.

The young intellectual's standard introduction to "very serious cinema" holds up quite well. "The Seventh Seal" remains a compelling story at the same time that it treats huge philosophical questions with insight and drama. It's just as puzzling, intriguing, provocative and challenging to the 40 year old as it was to the 20 year old.

This is a very well-made movie. Great acting, well-written, good settings and costumes, excellent music, an inventive and intriguing premise. In short, the works. So why did it leave me shrugging? I found it curiously unengaging, when I had been prepared to like it a lot, even with the excessive hype. Normally when this is the case I will see a movie again. In this instance, I have no interest in doing so. Very strange.

This is a very well-made movie. Great acting, well-written, good settings and costumes, excellent music, an inventive and intriguing premise. In short, the works. So why did it leave me shrugging? I found it curiously unengaging, when I had been prepared to like it a lot, even with the excessive hype. Normally when this is the case I will see a movie again. In this instance, I have no interest in doing so. Very strange.

In a decade of great films, this is one of the greatest. Yes, it's an examination of America at particular time seen through the lens of politics and the country music industry. But that's only the beginning. More important, it's about enduring human qualities. Aspiration, disappointment, ego, greed, madness, arrogance, narcissism, love, defeat, tolerance, empathy, pity, moral and intellectual obtuseness - all are present, all are embodied and illustrated succinctly.

There are innumerable examples of these illustration, but here are a few that stand out in my mind: the scene in which Lily Tomlin "listens" intently to her deaf child's recitation of his swimming lesson; looking on impatiently, somewhat callously, is the kid's father, Ned Beatty. Then later she knowingly takes part in a loveless, sham liaison with Tom (Keith Carradine), whose goal seems to be to sleep with every woman in Nashville, though this cynicism contrasts jarringly with the sincerity of his signature song. The scene is which Wade tries to talk Sueleen, fresh from her humiliation at the fund-raiser, out of her goal of becoming a singer. Bud Hamilton, Haven's son, sincerely crooning his song to Opal, who is busily scanning the crowd for someone more important to talk to. Haven and Connie White, secure in the narrowness of their world, dismissing Julie Christie as someone who can't even comb her hair. There are dozens of other memorable, insightful scenes.

These characters and scenes make Nashville affecting and hilarious at once, as is the work of art it reminded me of on this viewing -- Ulysses. Like Ulysses, the narrow milieu of setting is only a platform. Dublin on a particular day on 1904 is fascinating, as is Nashville on one weekend in 1975, but the two cities serve as a means of examining greater truths of human life. And like Ulysses, Nashville is imbued by a deep and profound humanity. Whatever these peoples failings, the movie doesn't judge them too harshly. It accepts them, as we all want to be accepted.

Like its title, this film is dark and a little forboding. As in "Wild Strawberries," Bergman examines the implications of lives lived in isolation, this time while asking large and important questions about man's relation to God.

Four family members are spending time on a remote island as the woman (Karin) is recovering from a stay in an asylum (the island itself is a symbol of isolation). Her father, husband and brother are each alienated from her even as they try sincerely to help her. Karin is also anxious for answers to her questions about God. Is she mad or in touch with divinity at a level the rest of us cannot understand? No one knows, though each character has some ideas; her brother is best able to reach her, with terrible consequences. The final scene between the son and his father is extremely powerful.

On the whole, this is a serious and very somber movie, not easy to watch, but extremely worthwhile.

A successful, respected doctor and professor near the end of his life looks back on his years with regret and nostalgia. Bergman uses dreams and allegorical images and characters to support his thesis that the greatest waste of a life is to live it in isolation.

"Wild Strawberries" is also light and humorous in places, with a gentle and loving depiction of the doctor's family in his youth (though I think it's important that we never see the doctor interacting with his past family until the very end). He is ultimately redeemed at the end, and Bergman is saying, I think, that there is hope for us to change even until the very end of our lives, and that change is worth undertaking.

On the whole, "Wild Strawberries" makes an affirmative statement. One of the strengths of this movie, and of Bergman's work in general, is his ability to create characters who function successfully as both "types" -- embodiments of ideas, philosophies or points of view -- and also as credible individuals in a narrative about whom we care. That's difficult.

The young intellectual's standard introduction to "very serious cinema" holds up quite well. "The Seventh Seal" remains a compelling story at the same time that it treats huge philosophical questions with insight and drama. It's just as puzzling, intriguing, provocative and challenging to the 40 year old as it was to the 20 year old.

"Wilson" is in the grand tradition of biopics of great men in which the subject has no significant faults and only a few foibles, and those serve mainly to humanize him. This is an extremely well-made movie on just about every level. It largely gets the history right, except where things have to be fudged to maintain the great man's image. One fact that's never mentioned, for example, is Wilson's reimposition of Jim Crow laws in the District of Columbia.

Perhaps most interesting is how the film handles Wilson's remarriage. His first wife died in 1914, and Wilson remarried in less than two years. His new wife was younger and more glamorous than the first Mrs. Wilson. The filmmakers include a scene in which the dying Mrs. Wilson tells her daughters that their father is a strong and good man, but that he needs the love of a woman. She thus exculpates Wilson from the unseemliness attendant with remarrying so quickly (though this haste was the subject of considerable gossip at the time).

"Wilson" is a well-made, entertaining and interesting period piece that provides some accurate history. Compare its treatment of President Wilson with the way in which presidents are depicted in film today -- Oliver Stone's "Nixon," for example. And can you imagine a widower president carrying on a romance in the White House in today's intolerant political and moral climate?

> What a dud. It began with some promise, then became unfocused and > wandered. John Cusack's Cajun accent was laughable, Bridget Fonda's role > existed only to get a skirt into the film, and Pacino did Pacino. His entire > generation of actors -- Nicholson, Hackman, Caine, Hoffman -- have developed > a standard performance that each can deliver effortlessly (or, less > charitably, "mail in") in their paycheck films. This was > one. >

The Last Temptation of Christ is, appropriately, a serious and challenging film. On one level, it effectively depicts what ordinary life must have been like for a Jewish peasant in 30 AD -- that is, pretty awful. On a more complex level, it prompted me to ask, why would God (any God) choose that place and time to send his son to redeem the world? There is no adequate answer, other than, "why not?" It was as good or as bad as any other place and time.

For once we see a Jesus who is a man, unsure of himself, rather than serenely powerful and wise. And his followers have all manner of motivation, from greed to politics to genuine devotion. I have read that this particular era was replete with religious fervor. There were all kinds of crackpot preachers and prophets, which is what many people considered Jesus to be. People seemed to hunger for something; this fact makes Christianity's success in the decades following Jesus' death understandable.

Ultimately, I believe the effect of this movie depends on the values one brings to it. An open-minded Christian could have his faith renewed by Jesus' triumph. A skeptic can view it anthropologically, historically (though he can't explain everything that happens). And a narrow-minded Christian may be outraged, because this version doesn't comport with all the accepted truths and myths he has absorbed.

A solid effort hampered by the the filmmaking conventions of that time. Some of the acting is amateurish, and the dialogue stilted. But it does confront the serious moral issues of war, unlike most war movies of that era. The theme is essentially the same as the current version -- that is, how does man endure in war? It presents several models for survival. Many of the scenes are exactly the same as in the 1998 version, though it includes others that are not found in Malick. This attempt focuses more on the relationship between Welsh (Jack Warden) and Doll (Keir Dullea). The music is awful, like something out of a cheesy 50s horror flick. Also, it's amazing how much Guadalcanal resembles the high desert of Southern California. But this is well worth a rent if one has the proper expectations...

I asked for a war movie that eschewed the entrenched clichés of the genre, and I got it. But I'm not sure I liked it (the clichés are quite comforting, it turns out). The Thin Red Line seems to me to depict how war must be. It includes everything -- valor, cowardice, terror and incompetence, but mainly uncertainty and profound longing to be elsewhere.

Paul Fussel (in his book "Wartime") talks about the mindset of WWII soldiers: they had a job to do and they wanted to get it over with and go home. This movie captures that outlook -- the characters' motivations are genuine. John Cusack's character is about as close as the movie comes to depicting traditional heroism and Private Ryan-style bravado. But even then, it's permeated with pragmatism. Taking the bunker means getting the job over with. Nolte's character is motivated by insecurity and careerism. This is his last chance to advance his career in a war. And he has Travolta's character -- younger than him but a general already -- goading him. Captain Staros is also quite credible. As Nolte tells him, he's not a coward or an incompetent, he's just not cut out to do what needs to be done. And he's probably right. In a traditional anti-war movie, Nolte would have been demonized for ordering the frontal assault rather than the flanking maneuver. Here, he's vindicated by events. That's what was necessary.

OK, all that said, I'll join the chorus in condemning the ponderous narration, the torpid pace, and the excessive length. I think, however, that these were part of Malick's attempt to convey a sense of what war is like. Not some great, relentlessly heroic adventure, but a lot of boredom, waiting, and agonized thinking about home, punctuated by violence and terror. While all that may be true, one must ask, "does it work as visual narrative?" Not always, which is what leads, in my view, to the many strongly negative reactions to this movie (along with the inevitable comparisons with the far more traditional Pvt Ryan).

Of course, the film looked great. One never thinks about the natural world in which this war was fought, nor of the indigenous people. The scene toward the end when the Japanese infantry simply appears out of the forest along the river is great, as is the scene depicting the assault on the bunker. That equals the battle scenes in Ryan. The acting is solid all around. The music, on the whole, worked, though some scenes of silence would have been preferable (and I kept thinking that a Philip Glass score would have been perfect). All in all, The Thin Red Line is an ambitious, though qualified, success. It's just not fun to watch.

I must agree with those who characterize this movie as overrated. It begins very well -- a grim look at the fate of workers made "redundant" by a changing economy. Soon the tone changes drastically, to that of the most hackenyed sitcom on American TV: "one of the guys needs money, so let's put on a show!" That the show happens to be male striptease is a juvenile gimmick. By the end, this becomes a shallow feel-good movie. But all that said, the movie is not without virtues, particularly the acting.

Hit or miss. As I suspected, the kooky premise cannot bear much more weight, which is why this pretty much collapses. It was inevitable that, as a sequel, it would have a self-conscious, contrived feeling, in contrast to the freshness of the first. Some hilarious bits interspersed with dead spots and among the most disgusting toilet humor imaginable. This, on the whole, detracts from the movie. Mini-Me was a good new character, though I would have made even more of his rivalry with Scott. And Frau Farbissina's girlfriend, Unibrow, ("I met her on the LPGA tour") had a lot of potential. There will be a third, as Myers and the studio will ride this one till it is beyond dead. This premise can't support another outing.

This is one of the best movies I've seen in a long time. Its strength rests on the subtlety and credibility of the characters. This is especially true of Jacob. Billy Bob (where did this guy come from?) plays him very well, of course. But the layers we see in the character are striking. He starts off as a total goof-ball loser. But he's far shrewder and more insightful than we realize, or anybody else realizes. For example, he knows the father committed suicide. And he entraps poor Lou masterfully. Finally, he's the character with the greatest understanding of the moral position in which they have put themselves. The other characters are also well-drawn -- the Lady MacBeth of The North, and Bill Paxton, another in the great tradition of obtuse protagonists. Even Lou and Carl, the sheriff, are very believable. The dialogue and the atmosphere of the setting -- Nowhere, Minnesota -- are also great. Overall this is an excellent movie.