readinglips

Just because there are big names in front of the camera (Joanne Woodward, George C. Scott) and big names behind it (Anthony Harvey, directing his first film since LION IN WINTER; written by James Goldman, author of LION IN WINTER; exec produced by Paul Newman/John Foreman Co.) does not make this film any less of an amateurish effort. If it had been made as an indie production, critics and audiences would treat it with derision. As it is, audiences must have laughed it off the screen when it first came out.

The actors do their best and the production values (photography, sets, etc.) are fine. But as a film – or even as a story – there's nothing there. Cervantes tilted at windmills because "they might be giants." He was an idealist and also a looney. So is Justin Playfair (the George C. Scott character), who thinks he is Sherlock Holmes. There are some scenes of utter embarrassment: Ms. Woodward preparing for dinner; the parade of people walking through midtown New York in the dark of night; and especially the ending (in a Pathmark Supermarket), among others, that leave you asking, "WHAT were they thinking?" In the end, we hear nothing except that idealism should be contagious. And that parable has been told many times before and in far more interesting (and entertaining) ways.

Sometimes, your first impression is right: when I saw this film in high school, I remembered thinking, "All form and no substance." Re-watching it last evening not only reconfirmed that, but the passage of time makes its weaknesses even more obvious: when you put aside the great photography and sets (and they are great) and the star power of Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway, there's not much else here.

We see how wealthy Thomas Crown is (glider flying, polo game, well-appointed house) and how sophisticated Vicki Anderson is (mostly the wardrobe). But without that form and style, the content that is left is vacuous. Where's the sparring and test of wills? She tells him right away he's the target and he has to prove he doesn't blanch easily. The scene with him and Jack Weston at the police station is a good one because it shows what Thomas Crown is made of: nerves of steel. The film could have used more scenes like that.

In real life, of course, none of this could happen anyway (an insurance investigator who went to bed with the target would be out of a job by nightfall). But even allowing for the poetic license of movies, what drives these characters doesn't make much sense:

1. Let's say she DOES fall in love him (and that's a big if – she's presented as a cut-throat investigator who only wants the 10% she'll get for solving the crime). Still, she's never presented with any options – like throwing the investigation over and running off with him. Instead, the "crisis" at the end is having her stand by and watch him replicate the heist. Her actions simply serve the plot instead of driving it.

2. Or, let's say he falls in love with HER. If he really loves her, why doesn't he try to tempt her to go off with him? Instead, they spend their time as though they are in a relationship where one person is terminally ill and they know there's only a little time left.

3. At the end, there's a twist – but since there's not much at stake for either of them (she's not going to run off with him and he hasn't asked her to do so anyway), the twist doesn't hurt. We're not left feeling sad that these characters crossed in the night, but missed. Instead, we watch passively as she is left holding the bag (figuratively) – and after all, did she really think he would show up and allow himself to be arrested?

The split screen photography is terrific and it works. It's not there just to dazzle us: it actually serves the plot. But how well this component works only goes to show how empty the rest of the film is.

The remake (1999) is much better: the investigator (Renee Russo) isn't a clotheshorse looking for love. She's tough and driven – she wants to beat him. The sparing between the two sets off sparks.

Granted some of improvement of the 1999 version may be the evolution of the relationship between men and women since 1968. But still, it does give you a feel for some of the lost opportunities of the first version.

First off: this is not the stuff of classics. We're not talking CASABLANCA or CITIZEN KANE (and especially not the 1941 MALTESE FALCON) here. And, yes, perhaps it IS the least successful version of Hammett's story (although the 1931 film really drags these days…). But an off-the-wall take on a classic story can still be funny and stand on its own without being compared to more traditional versions. That's the way you should approach Satan MET A LADY and that is why I'm surprised I haven't heard more about this film.

What I like most is that no one is taking anything too seriously. In THE MALTESE FALCON, Gutman and Wonderly/O'Shaughnessy say they never know what's going to come out of Spade's mouth next. That's certainly true here: from gender bending (the Gutman character is a woman) to different takes on characters (the "gunsel" is a wimpy mama's boy) to off-the-wall dialogue, you never know what's going to happen next. Without over-the-top "winking" at the audience, the actors tell us not to take things too seriously either and just have fun. If you know either of the other versions, it's fun wondering what they're going to pull out of the hat next. (For example, it's not a statue of a falcon that everyone is after, but rather the so-called (and equally fictitious) "Horn of Roland" stuffed with jewels and supposedly handed down from the days of Charlemagne.) To be sure, not everything works. When you try to play off-the-wall, you're bound to make some mistakes, and even fall flat. The secretary for Shayne (Spade), now re-named Miss Murgatroyd (instead of Effie), is far too ditsy, even for this material; her romance scenes make Shayne/Spade play more like he's toying with jail bait. But even so, the worst you can say about the movie as a whole is that it's "uneven".

Sure, the 1941 version is far better, both as a film and as a rendering of Hammett's story. However, the filmmakers weren't trying to be faithful to the source material here. Brown Holmes wrote the screenplay for the 1931 version and yet they hired him again for this one and didn't care that he ran roughshod over the original story.

I'm no apologist: this is not a great film. But it does have its own charms and it's certainly better than much of the drivel that came out of the 1930s. Give it a try: the unpredictability factor alone makes it worth the ride.

It has taken far too long for this "Hamlet" to turn up on DVD -- but the wait has paid off. It may not contain as many special features as one would like (especially after waiting all these years...). But one of them is a feature-length commentary by Branagh (sadly missing from "Henry V").

The 2-disc DVD is available by itself, or as part of a collection that includes Olivier's "Othello" (1965), the 1935 Warner Bros. version of "Midsummer Night's Dream," and the 1936 MGM version of "Romeo and Juliet." "Romeo" and "Othello" have no commentary, but the other two do. It's a great deal.

(And for those of us who are Deaf or have a hearing loss, all of the films in the collection have English subtitles.)

I'm probably going to be in the minority here, but I don't think this film works. And it's a shame because it's a variation on a genre that I like a lot: someone gets a chance to see what life would have been if they had made other choices ("Peggy Sue Got Married," "Me, Myself & I" with Rachel Griffiths, etc.).

The first half of "Dust Factory" sucked me right in: the teenage boy is a fascinating character (he doesn't speak -- that's not really a spoiler because it comes out in the first 10 minutes), the dialogue is good (the give and take with the young people is surprisingly believable) and the performances are strong, especially considering how young most of the cast is. (And don't forget: any film with Armin Mueller-Stahl is worth at least a look-see.)

But about halfway through, I started getting impatient because I realized I wasn't learning anything by living through their experience. I knew the characters were learning because they told us they were -- but I wasn't experiencing it with them. The best play or film makes the viewer look at the world in a different way. You feel you've learned something about yourself and about people in general. For example, at the end of "Peggy Sue Got Married," I had an insight about how we make choices in life. "Dust Factory" tells us things, but it doesn't let us experience them. The ending is actually kind of nice, but what leads up to it, for me, just doesn't work.

This film's reputation is so bad that you may be tempted to watch it. If so, you'll find a few charms ("Talk to the Animals" and "When I Look Into Your Eyes" numbers, great production values and a very game Rex Harrison) and riches of embarrassments.

It actually starts off fairly well with Anthony Newley introducing Dolittle and explaining how the doctor shifted from human patients to animals. But as it grids on, songs begin to sound similar, dropped in only when it's time for something different (rather than growing out of the plot and characters). The script has a few clever lines, but mostly unbelievable characters (in particular, Samantha Eggar's character is angry without motivation, whereas she could have provided some much needed romantic interest) and situations. (Yes, it's a fantasy, but fantasies can be convincing.)

Amazingly, Rex Harrison puts a lot of effort into his part and many of his scenes do pay off ("When I Look Into Your Eyes" song; courtroom scene). The photography, sets, costumes and other production values are gorgeous and you can see the money up there on the screen. But by film's end, one is appalled by the huge investment of time, talent and money, which yield so little result.

There are many reasons to enjoy this version more than the 1999 film. By cutting to the chase (when the film opens, Ripley has already met up with Greenleaf and Marge in Italy), you're pulled right into the story. This film runs 25 minutes less – and seems even shorter because the tension builds from the very beginning (whereas Minghella's film sets up a lot of exposition). The gay angle is pretty heavily hinted at throughout most of this film, although it's clear at the end that Ripley is at least playing at being straight. Alain Delon is great and the ending does pack a wallop.

But in one critical way, the 1999 version is far better (warning – spoiler): at the end of that film, just as Ripley thinks he's beaten the odds, he is forced to destroy something he loves in order to extricate himself from yet another lie. In the end, he is left with only himself to blame for the emptiness of his life. You have sit through a lot to get to that ending, but it breaks your heart in a way that the 1960 version doesn't.

(Interestingly, neither ending is apparently faithful to the book, but both are better.)

I found this DVD in the library and based on the jacket notes, it looked like it might possibly be interesting: a black comedy set in 1940 France, just as the Germans are marching in. ("Boy, that should have them rolling in the aisles…") But it does! This is a clever, original, suspenseful and funny film. I don't recall seeing anything like it before – foreign or U.S. That the writer/director can find humor when we know part of the outcome (the Germans will occupy France for four years) is remarkable. That he does it with such charm is part of the delight. What starts off as black comedy and fluff even ends up having a couple of serious moments – including a race to spirit out a cache of "heavy water" (which was part of the preliminary research for the A-bomb) and a quick History 101 intro to the beginnings of the collaborationist Vichy Government that would govern Southern France for much of the German occupation.* But don't let any of that that scare you off: the movie itself is funny, charming and romantic and races ahead at steady clip.

One of the best things about it is the combination of actors we've seen many times (Adjani and Depardieu) and others we've never heard of before. Along the way, there are two star-making turns: Virginie Leydoyen and Grégori Derangère. Both are impressive, but Mr. Derangère is especially so. According to IMDb, he was in ten films before this one – but he also won the Cesar as "Most Promising Actor" for this role, so apparently he was not all that well known even in France. He is a combination of romantic lead and comic actor – and he makes it all seem so effortless. You may be reminded of Cary Grant in "Bringing Up Baby" and "Arsenic and Old Lace" – it's hard to do comedy on film because the risks are enormous that the actor can come off looking inept. But Grant pulled it off charmingly, and this guy does also. I should think we're going to hear more about him in the future.

To be sure, this film won't please everyone – there's a little bit of violence, although nothing you don't see on TV every day. But if you're up for something original, you may feel after you've seen this that you've unearthed a cinematic gem.

* The so-called "spoiler" in this comment.

HURRICANE is not a great film, but it sure IS entertaining. Some of the scenes and situations are ludicrous (Jason Robards has the hots for his daughter, Mia Farrow) and the dialogue is often hilarious. But if you stick around, you'll find that the production values are astonishing. Among the talents behind the camera are Jan Troell (THE EMIGRANTS, THE NEW LAND), who directed; Sven Nykvist (cinematographer for many of Ingmar Berman's later films) who filmed on location in the South Pacific; and Nino Rota, who wrote a lovely, haunting musical theme. The performances aren't so bad (considering the dialogue) and the special effects at the end show you why this was one of the most expensive films of its day.

The film begins in 1819. When we first hear about Jerusha (Julie Andrews), she is a "Christian girl of 22." Later, her tombstone (the spoiler in this message) reads: "1799 - 1834". Do the math: she must have been 19 or 20 in 1819.

This film is an amazing hodgepodge of sometimes good writing and often bad acting. The pre-credit sequence, a narration of how people first came to Hawaii 800 or so years ("30 generations") before, is quite poetic and visually stunning. But much of the acting is stiff and passion-less. (Do look for Carroll O'Connor -– very good in a small part at the beginning as Jerusha's father.) The film uses one fascinating (and very effective) device: some scenes end with the first few lines of dialog of the next scene coming up "early", as a way of propelling the film forward. Considering how avant garde this is, it's surprising this has not been used in any other mainstream films -- at least none that I know of. (I recently purchased the DVD because I was interested in seeing the film with captions (CC). It is missing about 15-20 minutes, most of it from the ocean voyage towards the beginning of the film. No special features to speak of.)

Over the years, a legend has taken root that RYAN'S DAUGHTER is a neglected masterpiece – unappreciated and unacknowledged. This impression may have been reinforced by the savage reviews that greeted the film's opening. But, alas, this is no masterpiece. (For the record: I saw the film four or five times in a theater, including once in its roadshow presentation which was about 30 minutes longer than other engagements. I have also seen it several times in a letterbox video version. I am a big David Lean fan – but one who is ready to admit that even a master can make a less-than-perfect film.) To be sure, there are things to like. The photography is astonishingly beautiful – nothing short of stunning. Cinematographer Freddie Young captures Ireland in all its bleakness and majesty. (There is one shot in particular (it follows Robert Mitchum's character saying: "Go along, Kathleen, off with the others." -- about 1 hr 40 mins into the film) that is so perfectly framed and focused as to be worthy of comparison to a landscape painting.) The acting, with one exception, is solid. Robert Mitchum, as a cuckolded schoolmaster, effectively plays against type. Sarah Miles and the others are strong, and John Mills is very moving. There is evidence (anecdotal and in the way the film is edited) that Lean was frustrated by Christopher Jones. But even so, these aspects of the film – photography, acting, sets, etc. – work.

The content, however, leaves one gasping at the emptiness of the entire project. Soaring music, 70 mm photography and a long running time cannot turn a story into an epic. Even though the film was made on a huge scale with big sets and budget, the story is quite ordinary – and not very original at that. (Lean said he and Robert Bolt adapted Madame Bovary.) One definition of "epic" is a work (novel, film) that gives us an insight into a historical period or a movement. In A PASSAGE TO India, the main character's inability to understand India parallels Great Britain's own failures as an occupying force. A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS uses a historical incident to dramatize the importance of standing on principle.

But RYAN'S DAUGHTER teaches us nothing about Ireland's struggle for independence. That would be fine if Lean were presenting this as an ordinary love story – but he's not. He and Bolt have framed their film as an epic, and they have a paucity of elements to justify that choice. Instead, they substitute other ingredients to cover up the weaknesses and emptiness of the script.

Maurice Jarre's overdone music – loud and a lot of it – attempts to add a larger dimension to the film. (I actually like the soundtrack a great deal: there are many beautiful, haunting melodies, but it doesn't serve the film well.) The celebrated storm that leads to the film's climax is spectacular, but is part of an irrelevant subplot involving Irish rebels and a cache of arms that only serves to pad the film's running time.

When it opened, critics savaged the film for expending so much time and money on what is essentially a simple story. Lean was singled out for particular criticism and the mean-spirited nature of these attacks may have contributed to the impression that this was a film that had been treated unfairly and must be a masterpiece just waiting to be rediscovered.

But such is not the case. RYAN'S DAUGHTER is beautiful, worthy of being seen and certainly worthy of being transferred to DVD. But to call it a neglected masterpiece disguises its flaws and detracts from films that have truly earned that distinction.