After a fairly long hiatus, I finally found time to watch the 2 1/2 hour circus extravaganza that is The Greatest Show on Earth, starring Charlton Heston, Betty Hutton, and James Stewart. The film's story is fairly short: the film could easily have been an hour and a half. But the film is more than the story; it's also a full circus performance broken into chunks. I saw trapeze artists, clown shenanigans, musical numbers, elephants, lions, and more. Each performance segment was full of elaborate costumes and incorporated bits of the storyline. The film also had a narrator who acts as the behind-the-circus guide for the audience, explaining how the circus moves from city to city to town to town and how set up and tear down occur. It really became an education in how a circus functions (although I already knew quite a bit about circuses after visiting the Ringling Museum in Sarasota, Florida).
As I mentioned, the costumes were incredibly elaborate, and it seemed every female character had numerous costumes for performing as well as a full wardrobe for everyday scenes. The performances followed various themes, including a Disney segment, a Hawaiian luau, and the four seasons. Being a color film, the costumes dazzle the viewer, and the intricate details really stand out. The trailer includes some of these costumes:
Besides the costumes, I have to say the acting was also impressive. Stewart plays Buttons the Clown, who is clearly on the run from some crime but seems so sweet to Holly (Hutton) that you can't imagine that Buttons is guilty of anything terrible (but he is). Stewart does play his usual, awww-shucks character, only this time with face paint, silly clothes, and oversized shoes, but this seems so perfect for the Buttons character. Plus, Stewart has the opportunity for slapstick in this role, and he becomes the perfect mixture of friendly and funny. Heston plays the "bossman", or the behind-the-scenes leader and organizer of the circus, perfectly. He keeps his emotions in check when appropriate, but there are subtle moments when we see his facade crack and reveal his true feelings for Holly. But I think my favorite character was the sassy, street-smart Angel (Gloria Grahame) who says what she thinks and does what she thinks is right, and usually, she has a better conscience than the girl-next-door Holly. Grahame was Violet in It's A Wonderful Life, and in that film, she seems like the trashy counterpart to Donna Reed's wholesome Mary. In Greatest Show, however, Grahame has the chance to play a larger role and be a strong woman who doesn't need a man to be complete. Despite these strong performances, Hutton as Holly often came across as annoying, a woman who can't quite decide which man she wants and whines about it. I haven't seen Hutton in other films, though, so perhaps this is just the character I have an issue with, not the actress.
Although I had my doubts about this film, overall I enjoyed the storyline, but I wish there was less circus and more character development. I didn't feel like I knew the characters until towards the end of the film, and then I wanted to know them better.
Unlike the last few films I watched, An American in Parisis in color, and while I enjoy the richness of classic black and white films, the color was a welcome break. Add in the music and Gene Kelly, and I have to say that first hour or so of the film was quite enjoyable.
An American in Paris has a pretty simple storyline. It's a love triangle. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love, girl starts to fall in love but is already committed to someone else. Gene Kelly is Jerry Mulligan, the boy in this story. Jerry is a struggling artist who stayed in Paris after serving in the U.S. Army during World War II. As he says, Paris provides inspiration for artists, but it seems that although he's inspired, his work hasn't sold much. He's the epitome of starving artist until he captures the attention of a wealthy American woman, Milo Roberts, and we soon learn that Milo has a problem with hooking up with struggling artists, providing them financial support, and then having her heart stomped all over when the men become famous and leave her. Jerry is more upfront with Milo, making it clear that he isn't interested in a romantic relationship and plans to pay back every dime she gives him. Jerry's moral core seems to come from his American upbringing; he wants to earn his success. The other motivation for Jerry to avoid romantic entanglement is, of course, the girl I mentioned, Lise. Lise (played by Leslie Caron) is a Frenchwoman Jerry encounters on a night out, and he is immediately attracted to the shy, aloof Frenchwoman. No matter how much he tries to charm her that evening, she has no interest in dating him. Jerry's persistence pays off, however, as he learns her phone number and where she works. When he shows up in the perfume shop while she's helping a customer and helps her finish the sale, he has charmed his way into a first date. Their relationship grows from here.
Naturally, all is not easy for Jerry and Lise, especially since Lise is basically engaged to another man, who Jerry considers a friend. Despite this issue, most of the film remains upbeat. Jerry is ready with a smile and song and a tap dance. The musical includes a version of "I Got Rhythm" that involves French children saying the "I got" part with Jerry singing the rest.
Gene Kelly is perfect in the role; he has chemistry with everyone on screen and his dancing is simply amazing. Lesile Caron is a talented dancer as well, and when the two are together, you truly believe they are Jerry and Lise, two lovers meant to be together but torn apart by their circumstances.
The only part of the film that I didn't quite understand was the last dance sequence. The sequence lasts over 10 minutes and features Kelly and Caron. Throughout the entire sequence, the music is instrumental, and it appears that the audience must interpret what the dance reveals about the characters or story. Or perhaps it was simply a chance to feature these two talented performers. Whatever the case, I lost interest about 3-4 minutes in and even dozed off. Up to that point, I had been fully engaged in the film, so if I ever watch this again, I think I'll just skip that dance sequence and jump right to the ending (which is about 2 minutes long following the dance).
Back in 2009 when I was taking a film class in grad school, I watched All About Eve, but it wasn't because the film was one of those we were require to watch. I watched it because all my course reading kept referring to the film, and I quickly realized that if I was going to make any sense of the content of the course, I would need to watch All About Eve, and I remember that I wasn't disappointed at all with watching it. And a re-watching wasn't a hardship.
At its most basic level, All About Eve is a film about karma, or to use the cliche, "what goes around comes around." The story focuses on Margo Channing, a 40-year-old stage actress adored by her fans and friends. Margo is, without a doubt, a diva at the prime of her career, but she is plagued with the thought of growing older. Typically, Margo portrays twenty-somethings on stage, and she recognizes that her career may end at any time. Her insecurity about her age becomes almost destructive after she takes in Eve, a woman who claims to be Margo's biggest fan and who has a sob story that causes the other people in the story to initially take her side in every situation. In the end, Eve turn outs to be quite a con artist, and Margo learns what really matters in her life. But the best part of the film is closing scene. I'm not going to discuss it here; you really just have to watch the entire film to understand just how powerful the closing scene is.
What I like most about All About Eve is Margo's transformation. In the beginning of the film, I didn't really like her. She seemed self-centered and a bit shallow, but as the film progresses and the audience learns more about Margo, I realized that she is really just insecure and actually values her friends. She becomes almost endearing, but even with that change, she still remains quick-witted and sassy. One cause for her transformation is her boyfriend Bill; no matter what she says or does and regardless of him being eight years younger, he remains utterly devoted to her. That's not to say that he doesn't challenge her. He fights with her and requires her to move beyond her fear to be with him. I wonder if Margo's fear isn't so much age as it is an unwillingness to trust her heart to him. She doesn't seem to have any family, and while she has friends, she only seems to fully reveal herself to Karen and possibly Bertie, her no-nonsense assistant. For everyone else, it's Margo the star. But as Eve rises to fame and betrays Margo, we finally see Margo let Bill in and allow herself to depend on him. At the same time, Margo retains her independence.
If you're not interested in investing the 138 minutes it takes to watch All About Eve, then I suggest The Simpsons parody of the film where Lisa steals Krusty's show and becomes addicted to applause.
I'm halfway through All the King's Men, and it's difficult to continue. The film is based on a novel (with the same title), and it's about Willie Stark, a self-described hick who ends up running for governor and becoming corrupt, despite initially running on a platform of honesty. Stark becomes the consummate politician, making deals with corporations and using his connections to take down anyone who stands in his way. As the story progresses, Stark's son drives drunk and kills the girl in his car. Of course, Stark tries to cover things up, changing the police report and handling the girl's father. Stark cheats on his wife with a woman who works for him, and then he cheats on his lover. He even takes over the radio stations and newspapers to manipulate the truth.
Earlier, Stark ran for a small town position, and a newspaper reporter ends up covering his attempt. The reporter, Jack, acts as the narrator throughout the film, chronicling Stark's rise to fame and corruption. After losing his job at his newspaper, Jack begins working for Stark and seems to lose his soul as the corruption grows worse. Initially, Jack thinks Stark is only doing what he has to do to make things happen, but at this point, he's starting to realize that Stark has crossed a line. He's changed. And he's become a complete drunk.
I'll finish watching this one, but it won't be with much pleasure. The film is well put together, and I don't doubt the Academy's decision to select the film as best picture, but the story is disgusting because of the people. Stark is despicable, and Jack is worse because he allows Stark to continue. Anne, initially Jack's love interest who is later conquered, or perhaps captured, by Stark, doesn't seem to realize what a horrible person Stark really is. She's looking for someone ambitious, it seems, and when she professes to love Stark, she says she won't force him to divorce his wife because it would be "bad for his career." I think I dislike her the most because she uses love to make it seem like whatever he does is fine.
What I'm having the most trouble with understanding is why does Jack stay with him. It doesn't make any sense. Jack clearly sees the real Stark, but he doesn't seem to do anything about it. It's infuriating.
Hamlet is the first Academy Award Best Picture that I actually own, but I have to admit, I don't really like it. I've seen two film versions of Hamlet: the Laurence Olivier version from 1948 and Kenneth Brannagh's version from 1996. Of the two, I most definitely prefer Brannagh as he doesn't overact like Olivier. When watching the 1948 version, I felt like Olivier was hitting me over the head with how upset Hamlet is. It's just too much. Perhaps on the stage, this would seem appropriate where an actor needs to project his feelings to the people sitting far away, but onscreen, it's just obnoxious. Plus, it's difficult to enjoy the film in the first place when Hamlet is not one of my favorite Shakespeare plays. I appreciate the play for what it is, but the female characters are so weak, with Ophelia giving up far too easily and Hamlet's mother being portrayed as a disloyal, even stupid wife, that I find little other than the language, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and some of the soliloquies enjoyable. And if I want to enjoy Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, I can always watch Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, which I definitely recommend to find out what really happened to these two buffoons.
Since I'm taking the time to re-watch and thoroughly discuss Hamlet, instead I thought I'd give you a list of my favorite Shakespeare film adaptations. My tastes definitely run towards the comedies, but one tragedy does make the list:
1. As You Like It: Directed by Brannagh, this version is set in feudal Japan. The cinematography is simply gorgeous, but it's the storyline that makes this film. Rosalind is one of the strongest, if not the strongest, female characters in Shakespeare's play, and her sense of humor drives this romantic comedy. A few years ago, I saw the Chicago Shakespeare version of the play, and it reaffirmed my love for this story. Check out the trailer below for the film:
2. West Side Story: In my last year of grad school, I took a film class, and my major paper in the class was a comparison of West Side Story to Romeo and Juliet. This analysis required multiple viewings of West Side Story, and each time affirmed my love for the film. Tony and Maria are a modern Romeo and Juliet, and their story is just as tragic. But I actually prefer how West Side Story ends. And the music, oh, it's lovely. Lucky for me, it won Best Picture in 1961, so I have another excuse to watch it again.
3. Much Ado About Nothing: Another Brannagh version, I absolutely love Brannagh's portrayal of Benedick, the self-proclaimed bachelor who is easily convinced that Beatrice (played the fabulous Emma Thompson) is in love with him. Benedick and Beatrice's storyline is complemented by the more immature love of Hero and Claudio. Add in Keanu Reeves playing the villainous Don Juan, and I'm sold. Watch the trailer and see for yourself:
4. The Taming of the Shrew: Elizabeth Taylor knows how to be a shrew. I've been fortunate enough to see several stage versions of this play, and while I greatly enjoyed the stage performances, there is something about Elizabeth Taylor playing Katherine the shrew that beats everything else. Her final scene is also brilliant; just when we think she's tamed, Taylor's delivery of Katherine's soliloquy and actions perhaps suggest otherwise. This is the perfect moment when we see just how much Shakespeare's lines and lack of stage directions leave the interpretation up to the performers and director. Watch the trailer to experience just part of Taylor's perfect performance. It's also just a great example of a late 1960s trailer.
5. Shakespeare Retold: This collection of four adaptations of Shakespeare's plays is a fun way and short way to revisit Shakespeare. The collection includes Much Ado About Nothing, The Taming of the Shrew, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Macbeth. My favorite of the set is a toss-up between Much Ado and Shrew. In the Shrew adaptation, Katherine is prime minister of England, a perfect position for a bossy yet strong woman. And while she is tamed, this version makes it less harsh than some productions of the play.
6. A Midsummer Night's Dream: Kevin Kline as Nick Bottom...need I say more? The film has a love triangle that changes, several times, due to meddling fairies, and those meddling fairies are experiencing their own love problems. Add to that an aspiring group of actors, who include the ridiculous Bottom, and you have a crazy night in the woods. This is another film that has gorgeous cinematography, and the costuming shows the power of using film for Shakespeare's play. The play is considered an "easier" one as far as language, but the storylines can be confusing as they are woven together. It's worth the effort, though.
7. Macbeth: The version I'm referring to here (as there are many, including a rather terrible Orson Welles version that I recently tried watching but couldn't make it much past Duncan's murder) is actually the stage version recorded by the Folger Shakespeare Library. This version was directed by Teller of Penn and Teller, so the staging and effects are absolutely amazing. And while it is recorded, there is an audience whose reaction proves to you that what you're seeing on stage is magic, courtesy of the incredibly talented Teller. In this version, there is also an incredibly humorous portrayal of the porter, who is clearly hungover. In other versions I've seen, this scene is often downplayed even though it provides some much needed comic relief. I like to think that Teller's version is what Shakespeare intended.
I know there are many, many other adaptations and borrowings of Shakespeare's plays, and I certainly haven't seen them all, but the ones listed here are some of my favorites. So instead of watching Hamlet, I suggest that you try one of the films above. You won't be disappointed.
When I read the back of the DVD case for Gentleman's Agreement, I knew I would find the film interesting, but I didn't realize just how much the film would speak to my own feelings about tolerance and speaking up for others. Gregory Peck stars as Skylar Green, a writer who is known for going undercover and experiencing the truth. His new assignment is to write a series on anti-Semitism, a serious issue in the United States at the time this film was released. After throwing around various angles and finding nothing that works, Green realizes that the only way he can write this series is to pose as Jewish man and experience anti-Semitism. Throughout the course of eight weeks, Green quickly realizes just how much anti-Semitism has infiltrated society.
Perhaps the most important discovery Green makes is that it's the people who do not stand up for what is wrong who make anti-Semitism and hatred in general stronger. Early in the film, Green falls in love with Kathy Lacy, a woman who proclaims to support Jewish people and wants to fight against anti-Semitism. Yet as their relationship progresses and they become engaged, Green begins to realize that Kathy may want things to change but doesn't actually do anything to incite change. When Green learns about Kathy's home in Connecticut, he suggests that she allow his friend Dave Goldman to rent it so that his family may move to New York when Dave has an amazing job offer. Kathy reveals that there is a "gentleman's agreement" (see the definition here) that prevents the people in this community from selling or leasing their homes to Jewish people. This underhanded and secretive means of keeping the community homogeneous infuriates Green, as it should. Kathy acts completely helpless, and at this point, I began to despise her as well. Kathy becomes the ultimate hypocrite. Sure, she hates hatred, but she's not really doing anything to stand up against it.
Kathy's hypocrisy becomes even more apparent in a scene towards the end when she meets with Dave. During their meeting, Kathy relates hearing a crude joke at a dinner party that makes her sick, and Dave asks her what she did about it. Kathy looks shocked. Of course, she didn't say anything, and that's what Dave points out to her is the real problem with hate. When people don't stand up, don't say anything, that's the real issue. It makes me think about how in the past in my classroom, when students have used the phrase "that's so gay" to describe something they didn't like, I began saying that I didn't appreciate them using that word in my presence. The word soon disappeared from their vocabulary at least in my classroom, and I like to think that I caused them to reconsider using that phrase. At the very least, I stood up for what I felt was right.
Dave and Kathy, filmfoodie.blogspot.com
The scene that upset me the most was when Green's son Tommy comes home and tells him about the boys on the playground calling him names for being Jewish. Tommy has experienced hatred for the first time in his life, and Green must try to comfort his son while explaining hatred. It's a heart-wrenching scene, especially after seeing their father-son relationship grow up to this point. Tommy seems so happy-go-lucky, but as Green's friend Dave points out, it's when they get the kids that it hurts the most.
Tommy and Skylar Green, source: www.french-movies.net
In a time when hatred is still an issue in our society, Gentleman's Agreement is a must-see film for everyone. After seeing it, I now believe even more in the power of one person standing up and saying "that's enough." If we each did, then the impact would be multiple, and perhaps we would have less hate in our world: a goal worth reaching.
Although I've seen and heard several stories of returning Vietnam War veterans, I didn't know much about World War II veterans other than what is taught in high school history (the baby boom, the development of suburbs, women returning to the homes, etc.). The Best Years of Our Lives shows that the returning veterans faced many of the same issues as the returning Vietnam veterans. The film follows three veterans as they adjust to civilian life, and each man has a similar yet different experience.
Homer, the youngest of the the three veterans, lost both his hands during a battle. As a sailor, he explains that he didn't see much combat, but his battleship sunk and his hands were burned beyond repair. Homer has actual hooks in place of his hands, and while he's quite capable with them, other people cannot help but stare at him, as if he is a freak. Returning home, he must deal with his family's pity and figure out how to be with his girl.
Al is the oldest of the veterans, and when he returns, he has to reacquaint himself with his children, who are two years older. To cope with the shift back to civilian life, Al begins drinking, and his wife Millie struggles with helping him adjust. To complicate matters, his daughter has fallen in love with Fred Derry, the third veteran.
Fred's story is not atypical of the time; before he left for the war, he met a girl and married her after only knowing her 20 days. When Fred returns, Marie is not living where he thought she would be. He also learns that she has taken a job at a night club. Marie is clearly interested in having fun, and Fred wants to settle down in a home and live happily ever after. Unfortunately, it quickly becomes apparent that these two people are not in love. Even worse, they don't even like each other.
Weaving their stories together, the film follows each man as he tries to find his place. Fred struggles with finding decent work, ending up in a low paying job at the drug store where he worked before the war. Al receives a promotion but doesn't like how his bank runs its business. Homer wants everyone to treat him like he's normal, but he has his own hang ups to get over. The film does an excellent job simply telling each man's story. At no point did I feel like I was being pushed to feel sorry for any of them. Instead, I wanted to know how each man would finally learn to cope and possibly even feel "normal" again.
Ultimately, the film has a happy ending while still being realistic. My only complaint about the film is the length (2 hours 40 minutes), but having finally finished it, I'm not sure there is much that could be cut without the film seeming incomplete.
The Lost Weekend teaches a lesson without being preachy or condescending. In the film, the protagonist, Don Birnam, is an alcoholic. And it isn't pretty. Don is a desperate man, stealing from his brother just to get more booze. He drinks to run away from his life. Don sees himself as a complete failure; he's a writer who published a short story in college and decided to drop out and pursue writing full time in New York City. Instead, he's turned into a drunk who lives off his brother's good will. When his brother has had enough and tries to force Don to sober up, the results are disastrous. Don can't think about anything other than his precious rye whiskey, and when his brother leaves for a long weekend in the country, Don steals the money for the cleaning lady and goes on a drinking binge (I learned that at this time, $10 could buy a lot of cheap whiskey).
As Don spirals out of control and wreaks havoc on his body, the woman he loves waits desperately for him outside his apartment door. It's the few scenes when we see her that we begin to understand how alcoholism affects more than just the alcoholic. She doesn't want to love him, but she does. And it is her pain and misery that make Don's seeming lack of care for anything but booze all the more horrific. Clearly, this woman would do anything for him, but that doesn't matter to Don.
What impressed me in this film was just how real it all seemed. Throughout the weekend, Don progressively looks worse. The make-up and costumes reflect a man who hasn't bathed and hasn't consumed anything but liquor. His skins grows pale and damp with sweat covering his face. Ray Milland, who played Don, captures the shaking hands and unsteady gait common for alcoholics, and his outlook sways from supremely optimistic when he begins drinking to the absolutes depths of hell when the bottle is empty.
I wouldn't say this is a film I would see again. But it's definitely a film that is starkly real and presents an ugly side to our society. For that reason, it's film that deserves to watched at least once, to gain that understanding of what alcoholism does to people.
Bing Crosby stars in Going My Way as a priest who is sent to St. Dominic's Cathedral to save the church from sinking under its financial burdens. With Crosby starring, the film naturally includes multiple musical numbers in which Crosby croons to the audience and woos the ladies, even as a priest. The film is best described as heartwarming (t's the first Best Picture of this blog to make me cry a little at the end, but I won't tell you why).
Crosby's Father O'Malley is a young priest who is described by the elderly Father Fitzgibbon (played by Barry Fitzgerald, who won an Oscar for supporting actor for this role) as "progressive". The contrast is stark between the priests: Father Fitzgibbon isn't curmudgeonly but he's close. He's very old school and very Irish. At times, his Irish brogue makes him difficult to understand. As the story progresses, however, Father Fitzgibbon seems to become younger under the influence of Father O'Malley, and the two men become friends.
It's not surprising that this film won Best Picture in 1944. With World War II raging, audiences needed a story unrelated to the war that would make them feel good about people, and this film does exactly that. It's easy to escape into New York City and the woes of St. Dominic's. There is a brief reference to the war when one character says goodbye to his wife before he reports for duty, but other than that, it's almost as if the war doesn't exist. Instead, the worst conflict is between Mrs. Quimp and all her neighbors and landlord. Mrs. Quimp is the self-righteous Catholic who even seems to try Father Fitzgibbon's patience, and her ridiculous claims lends humor to the film, as do the boys who Father O'Malley forms into a successful choir.
Simply put, this film will make you happy. And sometimes, that's what we need. It's nice to see that the Academy recognizes films like this.
Of the films I've watched so far, this is the first one that I had seen before, so my experience with Casablanca was a bit different as this was a rewatching of a film I hadn't seen in years. Casablanca is essentially a love story set in Morocco, an unoccupied French territory in World War II. The film is about Rick (Humphrey Bogart) giving up the woman he loves (Ingrid Bergman) for the cause of the resistance movement in Europe. Their story includes a flashback where you realize just how much these two people do love each other, which makes the ending all the more tragic when Rick lets Elsa get on the plane with another man (I don't think I'm spoiling anything here...this is a classic scene):
Seeing the film again, I better understood the dense story. While yes, it is a romance, there are several other storylines at work in the film, one of the resistance and one of the French authorities dealing with German "visitors." I know the first time I watched Casablanca, I didn't fully understand why it was so necessary for Victor Lazlo to leave Casablanca and get to the United States, but in the watching, I already knew the basic love story, so I could focus more on the other parts of the film and follow the dense dialogue. Like other films, I think Casablanca requires two viewings to be fully appreciated.
What struck me in the film was the use of lighting. The film is black and white, but at times, the lighting seems very soft, in scenes in Rick's bar when he sees Elsa or when the couple is together. At other times, the lighting is harsh, when the Germans are present and conflict arises. The softness and harshness of the lighting switch seamlessly as each scene changes, but the effect is powerful: the audience's emotions change with the lighting. When the light is soft, it's one of those nostalgic or "awww" moments and the audience feels those emotions, and when the light is harsh, the audience feels uncomfortable just as the characters do. The subtle changes in lighting play on our emotions and engage us further with the characters.
With this blog, I may not rewatch all the films I've seen before, but Casablanca is a case where I'm really glad I did.
Set in World War II England, Mrs. Miniver reveals what it was like living in England during the first year of the war. Mrs. Miniver, the title character, lives in a quaint village outside of London, and her husband is a well-to-do architect. Part of the middle class, the family enjoys a comfortable lifestyle that includes a couple maids and an education at Oxford for their oldest son. The first half hour or so of the film creates this idyllic image of living the perfect life, but then Poland is attacked and Britain must defend its ally. The Miniver's seemingly blissful existence disappears as air raids and fear take over their village.
I've always enjoyed stories about regular people set during World War II, and Mrs. Miniver is no exception. The characters are truly likable, especially Mrs. Miniver herself. She is kind to everyone, even the arrogant Lady Beldon, and she is brave when faced with losing both her son and husband to the war. It's no wonder the film was so incredibly popular when it was released; this is who we want to be in a time of crisis.
The most startling scene for me was when the family is hiding in their bomb shelter during an attack. The shelter is outside their home and consists of a low metal shack covered and surrounded by sand bags. As the attack intensifies, the family hears bombs being dropped closer and closer, causing their shelter and even the ground to shake violently. The children end up in their parents' arms, and it's a moment when you have to wonder if you could remain as calm as these parents are in a time of such danger. This scene, more than the others, really made me understand what it was like to be in Britain during the bombings of WWII. The next day, the family discovers that their home has had some significant damage: they no longer have a dining room. But the father tells his oldest son that he never really liked the dining room anyway, and the mother points out that the upstairs is perfectly fine. Instead of being upset or sad or angry, the Minivers persevere.
Perhaps the main purpose of the film wasn't so much to show what living in Britain was like at this time but to show the world that the British and their allies were not giving up, no matter the losses they encountered. This is a definite must-see to view another aspect of WWII not often covered.
Miserable. That one word pretty much summarizes 1941's winner How Green Was My Valley. The film (based on a novel) is set in a Welsh mining town that loses its greenness in both the literal and figurative sense. Gone are the lush hillsides, and gone is the simplicity of life. The entire story is a flashback through the memories of Huw, who in the film is the youngest boy in a family of six sons and one daughter. The family suffers loss through mining disasters and moving to America. Although the daughter (played by Maureen O'Hara) marries well, she does not marry happily. She is in love with the minister, who nobly refuses to marry her because he doesn't want to see her live in poverty. Instead, she has a posh life she hates. How noble indeed.
I intended to just watch half of the film tonight, but I decided that if I stopped it, I wouldn't finish it. So I finished it. At just under two hours, it shouldn't have been that bad, but in ways, it was because just when I thought things couldn't get worse, they did.
The actual film was quite stunning to watch. The long shots capture how the coal mine shapes the town, and the actors' facials expressions are captured in close shots. The actors were convincing in their roles. It's just that the story itself was lacking for me. I wouldn't watch this one again, and I definitely don't recommend it.
From what little I knew about this film, I expected a romance, and while it didn't disappoint me, the film was actually more suspenseful than romantic. Rebecca is about a young woman who falls in love with Mr. DeWinter, a widower whose dead wife was the famous Rebecca. After marrying Mr. DeWinter, the new Mrs. DeWinter returns to his estate Manderley in Cornwall, England, with him, and she experiences firsthand how much his dead wife's memory is kept alive by the creepy housekeeper Mrs. Danvers. No matter where the new Mrs. DeWinter turns, there is something that relates to Rebecca, from the embroidered linens to the letters in the desk to the closed off west wing where Rebecca had her room. And Mrs. Danvers makes sure to keep the new Mrs. DeWinter as uncomfortable as possible with frequent references to the amazing first Mrs. DeWinter.
The film was directed by Hitchcock, and his use of lighting and close-up shots added to the suspense and intensity of each scene. As the film progressed, he increased the close-ups of Mrs. Danvers's face, and with only part of her face illuminated and the other part in a dark shadow, she is indeed sinister (see below).
The new Mrs. DeWinter's fear of her housekeeper is fully understandable, especially after Mrs. Danvers takes her into the west wing and shows her true obsession over Rebecca through her tour. Towards the end of the film, I realized it might have been a mistake to watch the film at night. Although it isn't an outright scary film, the character Mrs. Danvers is incredibly creepy.
One particularly odd aspect of this film for me was how we never find out the first name of the new wife. It's like she doesn't really matter (even though Maxim DeWinters loves her) when compared to Rebecca. Her name and her identity are insignificant in comparison. I wonder if the same is true in the novel, as the film is based on Daphne DuMaurier's novel with the same title.
Something else interesting was that this film was produced by David Selznick, who also produced Gone With the Wind. Other than both films being adaptations of novels, not much else is similar between the two. The female leads are vastly different, with the second Mrs. DeWinters being quite subdued and kind whereas Scarlet is demanding and so selfish it's almost evil. Having the Oscar for Best Picture two years in the row is impressive, and I'm curious to know what else Selznick produced.
Where do I begin with this film...it's an epic at nearly four hours long, a classic film frequently spoofed or quoted, and a story about one woman who defines selfishness for most of her life. Other than knowing a few of the famous lines and a couple plot points, I didn't really know Scarlet O'Hara's story, and the film really is just that it: her story. Clark Gable as Rhett Butler is certainly part of the film, but it isn't Rhett's story: Rhett is only involved when he's connected to Scarlet. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't a story so focused on her, especially since she, in many ways, is an incredibly unlikable character.
Vivien Leigh portrayed Scarlet, and although I haven't seen her in anything else, she truly captures Scarlet's flirtatious, deceptive, selfish, determined nature. For most of her life, Scarlet believes she is in love with her childhood sweetheart, Ashley Wilkes, and when he marries Melanie, a woman who actually likes Scarlet, the world seems to end for Scarlet. She ends up marrying Melanie's brother Charles, and we learn later in the film that she only does this to make Ashley jealous (and, of course, that doesn't work). This marriage is one of three for Scarlet, and while marrying Charles does take him away from another woman, the marriage doesn't seem as despicable as her second when she takes her sister's love and marries him to get the money to save her beloved home Tara.
Being set during and after the Civil War in Georgia, I gained a new perspective of a war that I learned about in school. I knew the war crushed the South, but in Gone With the Wind, I actually saw that devastation, including the burning of Atlanta, the destruction of land, and the dead and wounded soldiers. One particular tragic scene is when Scarlet, Prissy, Melanie, and Melanie's baby are in a wagon trying to get to Tara. All they can see are dead soldiers littering the fields, and in some areas, they must go over the bodies on the road. This image showed just how much death this war brought, and the looks on the characters' faces shows that seeing these fields makes them realize just how terrible the war was. But the only ones who seem to realize that the war should never have been fought is Scarlet (because it ruined her life), Rhett (because he knew they would lose), and Ashley (because he now sees what happened). The other characters in the war continue to blame the Yankees, even more so when the carpetbaggers arrive and set up camp, making life even more difficult.
Would I spend another four hours to watch this film again? No. I enjoyed watching the first disc (yes, it was on two DVDs), but about halfway through the second, I'd had enough of Scarlet. The film itself (the first film in color to win an Oscar) was gorgeous, the soundtrack was perfect, but Scarlet grows more and more selfish until the very end, and even then, I'm not sure she redeems herself. I do wonder if Scarlet even did win Rhett back. The film ends with her claiming that she will, and considering how the first of the film went, she usually gets what she wants. But Rhett has always been different, which makes me think this may be the time in her life when she truly learns what it means to be unhappy.
Frank Capra's You Can't Take It With You is a fun comedy with a moral: life is about friendship and family, not money. And in watching the film, I had the sense that this concept is one that Capra fully embraces on film and in real life. The actors seemed so natural in their roles, and the story (originally a play) was heartwarming and humorous, but not cheesy. It seemed like I had a window into these characters' lives, that's how real they seemed to me.
Jimmy Stewart plays the role of Tony Kirby, a wealthy businessman's son who is being groomed to take over the family bank. Stewart falls for Alice (played by Jean Arthur), his secretary and granddaughter of Grandpa Vanderhoff, the one man who refuses to sell his home to allow Kirby's father's deal to go through. Obviously, this creates some tension between the families, but most of the tension is generated by Tony's snooty mother and money-driven father. Vanderhoff doesn't let much bother him. He explains to Tony's father how he used to be a businessman himself until one day he realized just how unhappy he was. That day he got on the elevator, took it the ground level, and left the building, never to return to work, and ever since that day, he has been much happier. Of all the characters, Grandpa epitomizes the theme of the film; he is rich in friends and family, thus he is happy, whereas Tony's father, the elder Kirby, has money but no real happiness.
As much as I enjoyed the film, it did occur to me that whenever I see Jimmy Stewart, he seems to the play a similar character, the "aww shucks" character. Then again, I've only seen him in his most famous early rolls as George Bailey and Mr. Smith. I've seen clips of him in the later Hitchcock films, so perhaps when I'm done with the best pictures, I should move on to films that show a different side to actors that seem to have only one character in them. (Don't get me wrong...I love Jimmy Stewart as these characters...he seems genuine in each role).
The best part about You Can't Take It With You was the message. I love how this film shows (in several situations) how the real "rich men" of the world are the ones who make connections with others and care for others. Whenever Grandpa is in need of help, his friends and family are there. Sometimes we need a reminder of this, and You Can't Take It With You is a perfect reminder that will also make you laugh.
Before I began watching The Life of Emile Zola, I didn't know who Zola was or much about the film other than it was set in France and would include a courtroom scene. I wasn't even sure if Zola was a real person, but within the first minute of starting the film, I had my answer. The film begins with a text screen that explains that the story is loosely based on actual people and events. And a quick Google search results in several biographies of Zola (one from Encyclopedia Brittanica if you want a brief bio). Zola was a French author who wrote about the truth, exposing the ugly side of Paris and fighting for change in the government.
The film begins in 1862 with Zola as a young man, completely broke and sharing a room in a ramshackle hotel with his best friend. Both men are idealistic yet realistic: they see the misery of the working man and want to change Paris for the better. Zola believes more in the power of the truth than his friend, and after several years of struggle, he publishes a book about a French prostitute that becomes a best seller. It seems that almost overnight Zola has gained fame and success. In the years that follow, his books continue to be best sellers, and Zola becomes comfortably wealthy, living with his wife in a lovely home in Paris. As his fame increases, Zola becomes less spirited about finding the truth and more content with simply enjoying the benefits of success. Disappointed in him, his friend leaves Paris because of Zola's acceptance of life as it is. This act, combined with the French Army wrongly accusing an innocent man of treason, are what cause Zola's passion to reignite as he fights for the truth again.
With such as fascinating man as the center of the story, along with the military corruption, the plot is engaging. It reminded me of a John Grisham courtroom novel in the sense that the underdog is fighting for the truth, but the first half hour of the film reminded me more of Les Mis as Zola encounters the poverty and sadness in the streets of Paris. Zola is clearly motivated to make his world better, and as he says in the film, he would rather be remembered for his ideas than his person. He is truly selfless.
I enjoyed how the film transitioned from one situation to the next using visuals such as book covers and newspapers. When I looked up Zola, I found an image of the front page of the newspaper when Zola accused the Army of wrongfully punishing Dreyfus:
Fortunately, the one in the film was in English, but other than that change, the film used the same layout as this newspaper, adding to the authenticity of the film even if the opening of the film had a disclaimer about the historical accuracy.
The Life of Emile Zola was an enjoyable and inspirational film about one man making a difference (think Mr. Smith Goes to Washington moreso than It's a Wonderful Life). There are times when I felt angry with the corruption, but at least this time, Hollywood picked a story that shows good triumphing over evil. And in the time of the Great Depression and rising tensions in Europe, it was just what audiences needed. Combined with the cinematography and acting, it's no wonder the film earned the Oscar for Best Picture.
Three hours--185 minutes to be exact--is the running length of The Great Ziegfeld. The film chronicles the life of Florenz Ziegfeld, a Broadway producer who started his career promoting a strong man at the 1893 Chicago World's Fair. Despite the length of the film, The Great Ziegfeld is highly entertaining. Ziegfeld led a fascinating life, and in this film, he is portrayed as a suave con-man who wildly swings back and forth from being utterly broke to the most successful producer on Broadway. His confidence remains unshakable (most of the time), and he charms the other characters and the audience.
I must admit, the running length is daunting. I split the viewing into two nights, ending night one with the intermission. The film is long due to the multiple musical numbers; the film is, after all, chronicling the life of a Broadway producer, so naturally it includes some of his productions. Most productions scenes include 3-4 songs, one of which is always the glamorous and over-the-top finale that Ziegfeld was known for. Towards the end, I was sick of the productions and more interested in seeing how Ziegfeld's story would end. Despite being tired of seeing the productions, with each one, the extravagance struck me. The film was produced during the Great Depression but seeing this film you wouldn't know it because of the extravagant costumes and set designs. It's no wonder that Ziegfeld was so incredibly popular during the Roaring 20's: he captured the extravagance of the time perfectly.
The Great Ziegfeld is worth the time, but I'd recommend it for a rainy day or a wintry afternoon when you want to stay indoors and indulge in drama, song, and dance.
An hour and half into Mutiny on the Bounty, and finally, there is a mutiny on the ship. Unlike the previous films and posts, I'm writing this post as I attempt to finish this film. While I find the acting outstanding (it's no surprise that the three leading men were all nominated for Best Actor the same year the film won Best Picture) and the cinematography is impressive, the actual story takes too long to get started, and by the time it starts, I'm no longer interested.
According to the opening background information, the story is based on a true mutiny that changed the way British ships operated. Captain Bligh is captain on the Bounty, and he rules with an iron fist. Bligh believes that control is best achieved through fear, and when sailors disobey, he punishes harshly with flogging (whipping). The first hour of the film is the ship's journey to Tahiti to pick up breadfruit plants for the West Indies. Several crew members die on the voyage, one due to flogging. Bligh's brutality is overwhelming terrible, and I kept thinking the mutiny would happen any time but no. It just kept going on and on and on. The mutiny doesn't occur until they leave Tahiti.
Like I said, the acting is solid. Clark Gable plays Fletcher Christian, the first officer who leads the mutiny. Gable is outstanding. I kept thinking about the last film I watched for this blog, It Happened One Night, and how Gable plays such a significantly different character. His ability to transform into this role is truly impressive. But that, along with other actors, it's insufficient to make this 132 minute film bearable.
As the first romantic comedy to win best picture, It Happened One Night is simply pure enjoyment on screen. Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable star, and in true romantic comedy fashion, they despise each other at first only to fall in love and eventually end up together, despite some difficulties and misunderstandings. When films like this win Best Picture, I find myself liking the Academy more because it shows that no matter the genre, some films are universally outstanding.
It Happened One Night is an easy movie to watch. Within the first 10 minutes, I found myself caught up in Ellie's plight against her controlling father and her desire to make her own decisions. At the same time, I scoffed like Peter when Ellie clearly shows that she thinks money will solve all problems. The chemistry between Colbert and Gable is perfect: the right amount of flirtation and frustration. They made me smile, and when they were apart, I felt their pain and confusion. This film is what modern romantic comedies should strive to be. Instead of using sex to create chemistry, the characters should use their wits, which is exactly what 1930s audiences would allow on screen. And in doing so, the romantic comedies like It Happened One Night were challenged to show love through sparring and tearing down the Walls of Jericho (watch the movie and you'll get the reference).
So I may be an English teacher, but I have to admit,
when I picked upCavalcade,
I had no idea what the title of the movie actually meant. According to
dictionary.com, there are a few definitions:
1. a procession of persons riding on horses, in horsedrawn carriages, in cars, etc.
2. any procession
3. any noteworthy series, as of events or activities. What I should have done was look the definition up BEFORE
watching the movie because a couple minor aspects of the film that I found odd
make so much more sense now.
Cavalcadeis
the story of two women, both wives and mothers, who experience happiness, fear,
and tragedy in England. Their stories start on New Year's Eve 1899. Jane is the
wealthy one. Her husband Robert and her two sons are the center of her life,
just as they should be in early 1900 England. Ellen and her husband Alfred are
two of their servants, and although they are servants, their story is equally
treated in the film. As the film progresses and the men head off to fight in
the Boer War, Jane and Ellen become the focus. Essentially, the film presents a
series of events (a cavalcade) and their consequences for each woman in
parallel stories, with the women encountering each other only a few times after
Alfred and Ellen leave their positions as domestic servants to run a pub. Throughout
the film, the director used varying transitions to show the passage of time.
The film ends on New Year's Even 1932, and to make the passage of time clear,
the director used text slides to present years and/or information between each
event. He also used footage of men riding on horseback, a long line of them,
also known as a cavalcade. This was the transition that I found so odd, but now
that I know what a cavalcade is, it makes sense (but it's still a little
cheesy).
I have to admit,Cavalcade really
pulled me in. Jane, played by Diana Wynyard who was nominated for an Oscar for
the role, is a strong woman. When her husband and later her son leave for war,
she does not wallow in sorrow. Clearly, she is distraught, but she remains
strong. She is the one who comments that time changes everything, and while it
is true to some degree in her life, it is even more apparent in Ellen's
life.
Like two of the other movies I've watched so far,Cavalcadeincorporates World War I in its
storyline. It is one of the events in Jane and Ellen's lives, and while the
director could have minimized the war footage, he didn't, and the film
benefits. The director uses a series of montages and text slides to show the progression
of the war. As the years pass, the montages grow darker, with more men dying,
showing the devastation of the war on England. At the end of the war, on
Armistice Day, there is an amazing scene where there are must be thousands of
people celebrating on the streets of London. The camera pans over the crowd,
zooming in for close shots...there are clearly no digital extras here. I can't
imagine how the director managed to pull this scene off, but the thousands of
extras made for an impressive scene where Jane joins the crowd to celebrate the
end of the war even though the war has brought her nothing but suffering.
If you're looking for an older film to watch, I definitely recommendCavalcade. The film work itself
is impressive, and the story is engaging (it's based on Noel Coward's play).
Unlike some of the other films I've watched for this project, this was one I
had no trouble watching.
"People come, people go, nothing ever happens"--this line from the doctor easily sums up the purpose of Grand Hotel. While things do happen, to the new guests of the hotel, whatever happened before doesn't really matter, so in a sense, "nothing ever happens." The irony of this line is over the course of the film, two people fall in love, one person is murdered, and one person wins big in his first gambling experience, not to mention the deception and near adultery.
My husband and I recently saw Grand Budapest Hotel, so I couldn't help but make a few comparisons between the two films while watching Grand Hotel, which is clearly a more serious film in that there is little comedy. One of my favorite scenes from Grand Hotel is towards the end when the concierge checks the bellboys' hands for cleanliness. It's this moment that reminds the audience that these interactions are occurring in a public hotel, not in a private home. The audience is put in its place as observers, the rubber-neckers slowing down to look at this devastating car accident and human tragedy. Zero in Grand Budapest Hotel is one of those people watchers at first, but like the good bellboy he is, he doesn't share what sees. We, instead, are privy to it because we are along for the ride. Both films reveal what happens in hotels but of different areas: Grand Hotel focuses on the wealthy clientele whereas Grand Budapest Hotel focuses on the attentive, well-trained staff. What makes Grand Hotel really different is that everything that happens in the hotel seems contained to this place...we don't see how what happens in the hotel affects the characters' lives outside of the hotel. We are left to figure this out on our own.
Of the five award winners I've watched so far, I have to say that Grand Hotel was the best acting so far. I truly believed each person was who he/she was portraying, even the French dancer (Greta Garbo) who seemed over the top at first, but once I adjusted to the performance, it just seemed like Garbo was the dramatic, highly emotional dancer, not an actress pretending to be one.The Baron (John Barrymore) was so deceptive; at points, I wondered how much truth was in his words, but then his actions would show him to be an honest yet flawed man.
Having seen two movies in the past two months set in luxurious hotels in foreign countries, I wonder how many other films fit this description. Certainly the stories are different, but the setting is so similar. If you know a film set in a hotel, let me know. This may be a whole genre that I'm just discovering. And perhaps Grand Hotel started it all???
Set in Oklahoma during the late 1800s, Cimarron is the story of Yancey and Sabra Cravat and his dreams of settling in a new territory. The film begins with Yancey participating in the 1893 land rush when President Harrison opened recently acquired Native American lands to any and all US citizens interested in having a homestead. Yancey has his eye on a particular plot but, due to a tricky female, loses his claim. Yancey, however, does not give up his dream of building a new society, so he returns to Witchita to pick up his wife Sabra and their four year old son Cimarron, Cim for short, and the family moves to Osage, a town that consists of saloons, gambling halls, and tents. Yancey plans to start a newspaper and to continue his fight for Native American rights. Shocked by their new home, Sabra is initially fearful but soon establishes a women's group and settles into their life in Osage.
In the first hour or so of this film, I thought I was watching Yancey's story, but during the second half, I realized that it is actually Sabra's story. Yancey has wanderlust; his adventurous nature causes him to selfishly abandon his family and seek new adventure. He only stays in Osage for four years and leaves when his daughter is toddler to head further west for another land rush. He's gone for five years, and Sabra, on her own, continues his newspaper and turns it from a weekly to a daily. Although she initially seems weak, Sabra has a quiet strength about her. She definitely fits a woman of her time period; whenever Yancey returns, she becomes obedient and sees him as the head of the household even though she's been running things just fine without him (she does love him, though, so her obedience may be connected to that). But while she fits that role, at the same time, she breaks it by running the newspaper and towards the end of her life becoming elected to be a U.S. representative for Oklahoma. Sabra is, despite her weak moments, a likable, independent female lead whereas Yancey comes off as being a selfish jerk more interested in making a name for himself than supporting his family. And when he returns, he expects everyone to be thrilled to see him, to praise him. It's incredibly obnoxious, and I wonder if that is how the role was meant to be played or just how the actor was.
I don't typically watch Westerns, but I have to say that this one worked for me. The first hour was pretty slow, but the second part picked up. The director used text screens to transition from one time period to the next and even included historical context, so at times, it felt more like I was watching historical fiction than a western. What I would have liked more knowledge of was the title of the film. The son was named Cimarron, and it's referenced as an "Indian" name in the film when Sabra's mother complains of her son-in-law who is so obsessed with "Indians" that he named his son this. Beyond this, I didn't catch much else about the name...other than seeing how fitting the name is when Cim falls in love with Ruby, a Native American girl, and decides to marry her against his mother's wishes (his father supports him). Later, Sabra accepts Ruby, which shows how she changes throughout the film.
The third movie ever to win an Academy Award was another war movie, but All Quiet on the Western Front is significantly different from Wings. If you want the truth about war, then All Quiet on the Western Front is definitely the film to watch. The film follows a group of German school boys whose teacher inspires them to join the Army and fight in France in World War I. Glorifying war, the teacher goes on and on about serving one's country and becoming a man, speaking directly to these teen boys' dreams. But when the boys go to war, they realize the harsh reality of combat.
What struck me about the film was how the director panned the battle field. The camera would be in the trenches on the German side, and from that eye level, the audience watches the incoming French troops being shot down. It's not overdone, like some war movies today with excessive explosions and intense ammunition rounds; instead, All Quiet on the Western Front shows that some soldiers are hit and some continue forward. When the soldiers are hit, they don't necessarily die immediately, and that is probably the most heart-wrenching aspect of the battle scenes. The fellow soldiers and the viewer must watch someone slowly die. The same happens in the hospital scenes, of which there are several. In these scenes, soldiers lie in bed, complaining of pain in amputated limbs and wounds that will not heal. War becomes very real.
Overall, the film seemed incredibly unique to me in that at several times there didn't seem to be a main character. The main character seems to emerge as one of the few men left standing after repeated battles; I didn't figure out who he was until over halfway through the 144 minute film. There is also a distinct lack of music in the movie; in battle scenes, you hear gunfire and explosions but no music to build the intensity. This just adds to the realism; war doesn't have a soundtrack that includes violins or brass. It took me three nights to watch this film, but it seemed longer because of the grim reality. I knew it wasn't going to end well for the characters (and it didn't let me down on that prediction), yet I still watched the film to see how it would end, to see the outcome of the main character, whether it was life or death (I won't spoil that for you).
Moving on, tonight I'll be watching Cimarron, a western...not my usual movie genre.
Expecting a full-on musical, Broadway Melody came as a bit of a surprise for me. When I watch a musical, I think that the performers should be singing frequently, expressing their thoughts through song. But according to Encyclopedia Britannica, a musical is "motion picture consisting of a plot integrating musical numbers", which suggests that any movie with music within the plot is a musical. Broadway Melody includes some musical numbers, but the actors do not use song to express their thoughts. Instead, the music is part of the show within the show.
In Broadway Melody, the story focuses on Eddie and the Mahoney Sisters and their roles in a variety show being performed on Broadway. Eddie writes a song called "Broadway Melody", making a name for himself in the Broadway community. The film starts with Eddie performing this song in a room of musicians and writers; Eddie's new song captures everyone's attention. He is, in a sense, a new star, and with that new-found fame, Eddie tries to influence the producer of the variety show that focuses on his song. Eddie encourages the show's producer to see the Mahoney Sisters and cast them in the show. The Mahoney Sisters, Hank and Queenie, fail their audition but manage to acquire the role through Queenie's looks. The film becomes fairly stereotypical at this point, with the plain, outspoken sister Hank struggling in her place in the show while Queenie begins to rise to stardom with her looks (although Queenie is reluctant to take on this role as a star).
As the show progresses, the film's story becomes more predictable. Eddie, who is engaged to Hank, begins to fall for Queenie. Another producer of the variety show, Jacques Wariner, woos Queenie and eventually wants something from her in return--scandal alert! While the love triangle became more intense, I became less interested in the film. At one point, I wondered aloud what else was up for an Oscar in 1928/1929 since this film didn't seem nearly as Oscar-worthy as Wings (or, more recently, 2010's The King's Speech).
The film itself was just okay. I don't really have a better word for it. I enjoyed the behind the scenes aspect of Broadway showcased in the film--bickering between actors and stagehands--but as for the characters and story, the film was lacking. Hank is endearing in her own way; she's determined to do what's right for Queenie and Eddie, putting their needs before her own, but her extreme love seems too exaggerated, too intense, to be real. Although the film was only 100 minutes, I found myself at 50 minutes in wondering just how much was really left.
Starting my movie watching with a silent movie was easier than I had anticipated. I had never watched a full silent movie before. The closest experience I'd had to a silent film was a foreign film--both require the viewer to pay complete attention to the screen. With other movies, if I need a snack or have to reply to a text, I don't bother pausing the movie, but I had to pause Wings because missing just a few minutes might mean missing a text screen, and without those, I didn't have a full understanding of the storyline.
I will say that I was surprised by how much I could understand just from the music and the actors. The acting was definitely exaggerated: flailing arms, huge screens, dramatic crying. But what is considered over the top in present day film seems right at home in the silent film era. As a viewer, I needed the actors to exaggerate so that I understood how they felt without dialogue. What surprised me about the film the most, though, was how little narration and dialogue I was given. The text slides were sporadic, some with the one response of "OK" from Jack, who is the hero of the film. Despite these limited text slides, I could follow the storyline because of the actors and the detailed sets.
Wings is set during WWI. Jack and Mary are neighbors, and as the girl next door, Mary epitomizes wholesomeness. And naturally, she has a crush on her cute neighbor who is oblivious and thinks of Mary as a sister. Mary has to watch her crush fall for another girl, Sylvia. To further complicate the matter, Sylvia is in love with David, the rich guy. Fortunately for Sylvia, David returns her feelings. As the men leave for war, both take tokens as good luck charms: Jack takes the locket with Sylvia's picture (which was intended for David) and David takes a childhood toy.
As the movie progresses, the men start out as foes at boot camp, resolve their differences after a showdown, and bond as brothers. The plot here seems somewhat formulaic, but the ending is surprising. I figured this movie would end with the heroes returning home, matched up with the girl who is right for them. The actual ending has a tragic element I had not anticipated (but I won't spoil it for you). The shots of the war and the battle scenes between the planes are definitely impressive for the time period. The director and cinematographer did some amazing work filming the planes in motion and battling in the French sky.
The movie is long (144 minutes), but it's worth watching if you're interested in experiencing a silent film, watching a love story set during WWI, and seeing naked men's butts (seriously...full back nudity when Jack and David check in for their physicals prior to boot camp...I didn't realize that type of nudity was acceptable in film during this time).
A month ago, I stumbled upon E Weekly's Sirius XM channel, and my commute home became filled with pop culture, a fairly positive experience when compared to listening to the BBC and hearing about world conflicts. Typically, I listen to the show News and Notes on E Weekly, and on this show, one of the hosts (Julia) is watching Entertainment Weekly's 100 Greatest Movies of All-Time. She made a New Year's resolution to do this, and I thought, "hey, that's a really good idea to have an excuse to watch movies." Being a working parent, I don't have much time left in my day to watch movies, but ever since middle school, I've loved the power of film. Transporting myself to another world to view other people's stories is a cathartic escape from life.
So I began thinking about Julia's resolution--maybe this was something I should do. But then the question was how would I select movies to watch? I didn't want to copy Julia (plus there are horror movies on that list and I don't do horror movies...at all), and I didn't want to randomly select movies. I knew if I did that, I wouldn't push myself to watch something new. After thinking about it for a few days, I realized that the Academy Awards was the solution. My goal is to watch all the movies that have been awarded Best Picture by the Academy Awards, beginning in 1927/1928 with Wings, the only silent film ever awarded the Oscar for Best Picture. And I added the idea of blogging to this project because if I was going to watch all these movies, I wanted to have some way to share my experience with others. We'll see how this experiment goes.
