The Deer Hunter: 1978

When I began watching The Deer Hunter, I found myself frustrated with the long scenes of Steven and Angela's wedding. From what I could tell, the story was about these six friends who liked to drink, a lot. I didn't see the point in these long, drawn-out scenes for developing character. The scenes before and after the wedding seemed more helpful than these particular ones.

By the end, I still hadn't figured out why those wedding scenes were so long, and even as I write this a day after finishing the film, I'm still not sure. But what I have thought about the purpose of the film. Initially, the purpose seemed to be to explore how friendships impact us and how true friendships last even in difficult times. After thinking about it more, the film seems to be more about how hopeless we feel in so many aspects of our lives, but in the end, giving up hope is not the answer. Giving up is never the answer.

Through a gruesome experience as POWs in the Vietnam War, three of the six friends have their mental, emotional, and physical states tested. Michael, played by the immensely talented Robert DeNiro, is clearly the strongest before the war and remains so as the men are forced to play Russian Roulette against each other. Steven, played by John Savage, already shows signs of PTSD, and Savage stunned me with his talent. Physically, Steven is shaking all over, desperate to pull himself together but completely incapable. Savage made me forget he was playing a role...that's how real he seemed as a man on the edge of sanity. Nick, the third friend played by Christopher Walken, isn't holding himself together well, but he's not as bad as Steven. As their fellow prisoners die in round after round, these three survive, and Michael manages to figure out a way for all three to escape. The moment I questioned his loyalty to friends happens in this situation, as Michael originally tells Nick to forget about Steven, that he's too far gone for them to save. Without spoiling any more (although this is only halfway through the film and with a three-hour film, there's still a lot to go), Michael makes up for what he says here much later in the film when Steven needs saving again.

DeNiro, Savage, and Walken are not the only talents in this film. Meryl Streep plays Linda, Nick's girl back home. Streep is subtle with her performance. We clearly see how she doesn't understand what these men are about to experience, and when reunited with some, her compassion mixes with her fear. Linda feels honestly, a trait that Streep portrays so smoothly. Through Linda and the other characters' reactions to the war, we understand better what it must have been like for soldiers returning home and their loved ones trying to figure out how best to handle them. That seems to present another purpose for the film: to honestly portray what Vietnam was like for the soldiers before going, while in Vietnam fighting, and after returning home. I've seen a handful of other films with segments or entire plots involving the Vietnam War, but I don't think I've seen one that seems as real as this one. Perhaps the film has that authenticity because it was filmed so close to the end of the war.

The Deer Hunter is long but worth watching just to see the talent on screen and to consider what it's actually about.

Annie Hall: 1977

The back of the DVD case for Annie Hall calls the film a "romantic comedy." Now, by my definition of romantic comedy, I wouldn't say that Annie Hall is one. A comedy, yes, for sure, but a romantic comedy has a different ending than Annie Hall. I suppose one could argue that the film is about a couple, Annie and Alvy, and their relationship, thus it's a romantic comedy, but I think the film is more comedic than romantic. Alvy (Woody Allen) as the narrator and main character tells us about his relationship with Annie, and early on, we learn that they break up, and we are not led to believe that the couple will get back together. The film chronicles their relationship, incorporating Alvy's career as a comedian and his quirks, of which there are many.

For me, Annie Hall was intriguing because it's one of the first I've watched for this blog where the main character steps out of scenes and speaks directly to the audience. Alvy wants us on his side, or sometimes he feels the need to explain things in order to make sure we understand. Of course, in those latter cases, by explaining things he's helping us see his perspective, which supports his side. My favorite moment of stepping out occurs when he and Annie are waiting in line for a movie. It's a documentary about Nazi Germany, and behind them is a film professor loudly sharing his pretentious thoughts:

I love how Alvy handles the professor, but I don't love how he treats Annie. It's clear that their relationship is falling apart in this scene. She no longer finds his quirks adorable; she seems him as a critical cynic. It's not surprising that the couple doesn't last, but I found their story endearing. 

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest: 1975

If you're looking for an uplifting film, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is not a good option at all. Going into this film, I didn't really know much about the premise, and I'm not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. If I wasn't doing this blog, I don't know if I would have finished watching this one.

The film isn't bad; actually, it's quite understandable why it won Best Picture. The acting is absolutely outstanding, but it's not Jack Nicholson who carries this. He seems more or less like the jerk he plays in As Good As It Gets and any other role where he's required to be arrogant and defiant. While the plot follows Nicholson's character McMurphy, it's the supporting characters who captivated me. Danny DeVito plays Martini, a man who suffers from some mental illness that makes him seem like a small child. In this scene, Martini is playing Monopoly with another patient and wants to put a hotel on Boardwalk even though he's not playing by the rules:

DeVito is so convincing, as are the other actors who play the residents of this hospital. I found myself way more interested in their stories than McMurphy. Part of that was due to McMurphy being so despicable, but another part of that was due to how the actors convinced me that these men were real and were suffering.

I won't recommend this film to people unless they are looking for a film with impressive acting and a grim although realistic portrayal of a mental hospital of the 1970s. While the acting is phenomenal, the story is depressing, and the staff of the hospital is cruel and holier than thou as they "treat" the patients in a setting that seems more like a prison than a treatment center. 

Rocky: 1976

I had to go out of order again, but this time it was not intentional like I did for The Godfather movies. My local library's copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest was checked out, again, so I skipped that for now (while I wait for my hold) and decided to watch Rocky. The timing was rather fitting as I watched the film last night and attended a body combat class this morning. I must admit, as I was throwing punches this morning, I was imagining myself in the gym prepping like Rocky. My class, though, was only an hour long and had more mixed martial arts than just boxing. And I'm definitely not anywhere near ready to take on Apollo Creed.

Even though Rocky is a famous film (not as much for winning Best Picture but more as cultural event and influence), I had only ever seen clips of the film. I knew the basic premise, underdog boxer who defies the odds against world famous boxer, and of course I knew he yelled the name "Adrian!" But that was really it. I didn't expect to see a film with a more developed story.

Rocky works for Gazzo, who was familiar to me but I had to check IMDB to see why (he's the guy who interviews Travis in the opening scene of Taxi Driver). Gazzo seems to be a mobster or something else that involves illegal activity, and Rocky is in charge of making sure Gazzo is paid by those who owe him. Naturally, Rocky uses any means necessary to do so, but he turns out to be kinder than Gazzo wants. In one scene, Gazzo criticizes Rocky for not following orders:

This scene made Rocky likable. He's portrayed as being logical, pointing out that the guy can't work and thus can't earn money with broken thumbs. Yet I think the real reason is his humanity. Although he fights in the boxing ring, Rocky is gentle in the real world. It's made even more apparent by his love for his pet turtles and later his love for Adrian.

Some of the movie is very 1970s in the way Rocky takes care of his body even though he's an athlete. He smokes a lot, and after a fight, when he comes home, he has beer for dinner. When he begins his serious training, we see a shift in his routines, so perhaps this isn't as 1970s as I think, but to me it seems like athletes today are better about their health. Of course, I don't have that much experience with that, so I could be wrong.

I enjoyed Rocky for what it is: an inspirational story about overcoming the odds and meeting goals. The story has some holes (I don't get why Gazzo gives Rocky money and then he kind of disappears or why Rocky just lets Paulie treat Adrian the way he does), but maybe those are resolved in Rocky 2 (which didn't win Best Picture and I have no interest in watching...but if you watch it, let me know how it is).

The Sting: 1973

The Sting is a movie that I needed to finish before I had a strong opinion about it, and that opinion ended up being that it's a fantastic movie. Set in the 1930s and following con-man Johnny Hooker (Robert Redford) as he joins Henry Gondorff (Paul Newman) to pull off the "big con", at several points I thought the story would go one direction but it veered off and surprised me at the end.

What I really didn't realize about The Sting is how comical it is, and that's probably due to how most of the Best Picture winners I've watched for this blog are serious with only some comic relief here and there. Some barely have even that. So it was kind of a relief when about half way through The Sting I realized that the movie was more funny than serious, but I didn't fully realize that until the very end. I won't spoil the ending for you; just trust me, you should watch it.

Redford is so famous that at first I had trouble seeing him as anyone than Robert Redford, but eventually I saw him more as Johnny Hooker. I don't think that speaks poorly of his acting; I just think that sometimes celebrities grow so huge in popularity (or notoriety in other cases) that is difficult for us as the audience to suspend belief and think of this person as someone else. I found it easier to believe Newman as Gondorff, so perhaps, just perhaps, he was the better actor in this movie. Or maybe I just haven't seen enough of his other movies. I have more familiarity with Newman as being the star on the bottle of ranch in my refrigerator than being a film star.

I know I'm not saying much about what the movie is about, but you'll thank me later for that. Put this one your list of films to watch, and watch it when you want a smart movie that will leave you cheerful.

The Godfather 2: 1974

I skipped 1973's The Sting for now in order to watch The Godfather films in order. And I'm glad I did because I was left with questions at the end of the first Godfather. What I wanted to know after the first film was what would happen in Vegas, and The Godfather: Part 2 answers that and more. Surprisingly, the Vegas storyline isn't the one that's holding my interest in the second one; it's Vito's story, where we learn about his past and how the family formed. I think that's due to Vito being a more noble character (yes, a noble mobster) while Michael is deceitful and cold-hearted.

I knew after the first movie that Vito cared about his family, and in the second, he's shown as a loving father who holds his babies, tells them how much he loves them, and even soothes them when they're fussy. Early in the film, he goes to a bar with a friend to see a show, and when the friend asks Vito for his opinion about an actress, Vito says he only has eyes for his wife and son (baby Santino). The moment is so sweet and heartfelt. Even before this scene, Vito is shown as a young boy immigrating alone to the United States.

While the Vito storyline develops the original Godfather as a good person, the Michael storyline continually shows how deceitful and despicable Michael is. I can't say that I liked Michael at the end of the first film, but he seemed somewhat justified in his actions. His selfishness becomes all to apparent early in the second film and seems to grow (as if it was possible) as the film progresses. It's really all about whether or not people are respecting him and following his wishes, not what is best for the family. He isn't a good father to his children (spoiler alert: he and Kay break up and he refuses to let his children have contact with their mother), his deals are focused on how people will help him, and he manipulates and kills whenever the situation seems somewhat out of his favor. At no point do his actions seem justified, but I think there are points in Vito's life where, while his actions are wrong, he seems to have a good reason for doing them.

I won't be watching The Godfather 3, in part because I heard it was pretty terrible and I think I know how things are going to end and in part because I need to get back to work on Best Picture winners, but I'm glad I watched both of these back to back.

The Godfather: 1972

I had seen The Godfather before, back when I was in grad school in a film class, and at the time, I didn't really like the film. I wasn't sure what I expected at the time, but for whatever reason, I thought the film was too long and didn't really have a unique story to tell. What I realized as I watched the film again, though, is that while the story may not be particularly unique, the way it is told is the power of the film. The actors are convincing in their roles, and I appreciate Brando's portrayal as the Godfather more now that I've seen more of his other work (including On the Waterfront, which was an earlier Best Picture winner). Coppola's decisions with shots and music effectively and dramatically convey the family dynamics, suggesting that while Michael wants to be separated from his family, he cannot help but being pulled in.

One scene that stood out to me during this viewing was when Don Coreleone tells Michael that he never wanted him to be in the family business.

The moment is sweet. Coppola's decision to start the scene with two-shots as Vito gives advice to Michael keeps the talk focused on business, but as the scene progresses, Coppola zooms in and uses close-ups. To further emphasize Vito's agitation with having Michael in the business, Vito begins walking around as he talks. Through this scene, the audience better understands Vito's love for his son and for his family. His whole life may have been one of crime, but he believes he did everything for his family. It's these scenes in the film, including Sonny trying to take care of his sister and seeking revenge on her husband, that make me realize that while the story deals with organized crime, it can be seen more as a movie about family and what we're willing to do for our families. Through this lens, I find I like The Godfather a lot more than I did the first time.

The French Connection: 1971

If I learned anything about being a narcotics detective in New York City in the early 1970s from The French Connection it's that the job involves a lot of standing in the cold and walking around. Of the 104 minutes, I think at least 40 minutes consisted of the two detectives tracking their suspects, and while that made for some interesting shots, it didn't make for a very entertaining story. The plot itself was promising: two narcotics detectives working on busting a drug ring with connections in France. But maybe being based on a true story hurt the film instead of helping it since real detective work is probably not as exciting as Hollywood typically portrays it.

Doyle and Russo, the detectives, spend a lot of time following suspects on foot and by car, allowing for interesting cuts and longer shots that highlighted the grime of the city. One scene where Doyle is tracking a sniper involves lots of smashed up cars, so of the tracking scenes, it was perhaps the most exciting:

The director cuts between the suspect on the subway and Doyle in the car, building tension as the train speeds up and passes stations without stopping. Of all the scenes I found this one the most exciting because I couldn't tell how it was going to end. It seems ridiculous to think the suspect will get away, but at times, it almost seems possible.

There were a few close up shots that I still don't understand in this film, and one in particular is the straw hat in the back window of the detectives' car. Russo (I think) throws the hat in the back window, and the camera lingers on it. Later, during a stake out, there's another close up of this hat, but I'm not sure what it's showing. Is it to show how little things have changed in the case? Or is it to suggest that these two men are not good at their job, allowing something so distinctive to be in the window that might help suspects identify their car? Surely there's a reason...I just can't figure it out.

Patton: 1970

I should have written this blog a couple weeks ago when I watched Patton, but I'm going to do my best to remember my thoughts at that time and reflect on the film. At least I have the advantage of Patton being a memorable film, one that made me think about its genre (biopic) and how a well done biopic may not necessarily be completely true but tells a compelling story.

Patton tells the story of General Patton and his role leading troops in battle during World War II. What I found interesting was how the story wasn't just from the American perspective. The writers included the German perspective. Throughout the film, there were scenes from the German war room where the German officers discussed Patton. One officer was assigned to research Patton and report his findings to his superiors. This made me think about war strategy in a different way. While I knew that enemies study each other to learn their strengths and weaknesses and to anticipate their movies, I hadn't seen this done in this way in a film before. The officer in charge of researching Patton becomes so completely involved and invested in his research and seems to read Patton's mind. His superiors, however, belittle his work, suggesting that the Germans might have fared better if they had listened to this one man. Of course, this seems extreme to me, done to enhance the plot and build suspense. Yet it was effective in presenting the idea that Patton was a well-respected man whose tactics were unusual and unique because when the German officer suggests what he thinks Patton will do (and later we see is what Patton does), the commanding officer simply can't believe him.

While I have seen several war movies (some for this blog and others), I had yet to see one that focused as much on battle strategy like Patton. The film portrays General Patton as a scholar of military history, knowledge that he uses to develop plans to fight the Nazis. His knowledge of German warfare benefits him in what becomes a slightly humorous scene when Patton wins his first battle against the Germans.

Moments like this one provided some levity in an otherwise intense film. Patton often seems like a jerk, calling soldiers cowards when they can't fight because of fear. While watching, I wondered how much of this was true about the real Patton and how much was fictionalized to tell a more compelling story.

Overall, Patton was a pleasant surprise. I wasn't sure how I would like the film (it's nearly three hours, so it's a commitment), but I found it moving faster than I expected and providing an interesting perspective on World War II.

Oliver!: 1968

So I just should have kept moving ahead.

I'll admit, I'm not quite an hour into the film version of the musical Oliver!, and I've sat through some pretty awful films for this blog but the excessive overacting that I'm watching is just too much. I realize that for a Broadway stage the actors need to be powerful to broadcast their emotions, but this seems extreme even for a live performance. For example, when Bill tells Fagin that he killed Nancy, Fagin bits his finger and turns away. It's just to over the top. The only believable acting is done by the young Oliver (played by Mark Lester, whose filmography shows that he was a child star), but I wonder if that's due more to being young and the role requiring him to look scared most of the time, which isn't difficult to do given the situations he's in.

Immediately what bugged me was how off the lip-syncing seemed to be. I understand that the actors cannot sing while being filmed, but a couple of the songs early on (one performed by Nancy who was singing about how she simply cannot leave Bill even though he's a jerk) seemed so off I was distracted and couldn't follow the song.

Good news, though, the disc wasn't clearly labeled, and apparently instead of watching the first half, I was watching the second half of the movie. That clearly explains why there wasn't a menu when I started the disc. I'm counting this viewing...I'm not watching any of this film, unseen or seen, again.

Midnight Cowboy: 1969

While waiting for a copy of 1968's winner Oliver! (a movie that I'm not sure about), I decided to skip ahead and watch Midnight Cowboy, a drama starring Jon Voight as Joe Buck and Dustin Hoffman as Ratso (an unfortunate nickname the character constantly tries to throw off for his given name Rico).  I knew the movie was about a guy from Texas who moves to New York City with hopes of becoming a hustler and instead makes friends with an unlikely guy. Joe is the Texan; Ratso is the new friend. I also knew the movie was the only X-rated movie to earn an Oscar for Best Picture (it has since been rated R, which I can assure you seems right given what we see in R-rate movies today).

Knowing that little about a movie like this was probably best. Midnight Cowboy is dark, dreary, miserable, and frustrating. The story includes flashbacks from Joe's life to help us understand why this "cowboy" as  he calls himself while admitting he isn't an actual cowboy would want to sell himself for a living. What's frustrating, though, is the flashbacks are jumbled, just as they would be from a person who is tormented by his past. The effect as far as the film is powerful as we better understand how Joe is not only lonely but haunted by his childhood and teen years. I gathered that Joe experienced abandonment as a child, living with his grandmother after his mother (I'm guessing this...there was no dialogue and not much of a clip of this in the montage) dropped him off. At times, Joe seems deserving of our sympathy, but then again, he seems despicable in how he assumes that women are going to fall all over themselves in order to pay him to sleep with him. His arrogance is disgusting. It's Joe in the present day that makes the film so miserable.

Ratso, though crippled and homeless, is even less deserving of sympathy. He operates his life by stealing and conning. All of it is small (we are introduced to him when he cons the incredibly gullible Joe), but that doesn't make what he does right. To make matters worse, Ratso acts like his stealing is perfectly fine. I guess the point is to prove that New York eats people alive, and the cycle of poverty causes Ratso to do this, but Ratso makes a point to say that he will not work in the subway shining shoes like his dad, which suggests that there are jobs out there for someone like Ratso; he's choosing not to take them. I pity Ratso for his increasing illness, but that doesn't mean I like him.

Besides the interesting use of montages to present Joe's flashbacks and to draw connections between his current situation and his past, this movie was a waste of my time. I considered not finishing it, but then my husband said I only had half an hour left, so I might as well. I won't spoil the ending, but I will say that it doesn't redeem Joe even as he comes to some realizations about life. This is a film where I'm just unclear on the point of the story. Perhaps the point is to show how being lonely forces us to find companionship; people are social creatures and need to make connections in order to survive. That would explain Joe and Ratso's friendship, but if that's the case, then large portions of this movie seem unnecessary to me. And if that was the case, I don't think the movie would focus as much as it does on Joe's life. So that leaves me wondering, what was the point? And then that leaves me wondering why did this get an Oscar?

In the Heat of the Night: 1967

And I'm back.

In the Heat of the Night is the perfect film for returning to this blog. Not only did it star Sidney Poitier (incredibly talented and hardworking) but the story itself was an intriguing examination of character and motivations. The basic plot is this: a wealthy white man is found dead on the street in small town Sparta, Mississippi;  Virgil Tibbs (Poitier) who is accused of the crime turns out to be a homicide detective from Philadelphia; and once the detective is found innocent (about 5 minutes after being accused), he becomes involved in solving the case, at first against his will (his boss tells him to help out).

The race relations complicate the story, as throughout the investigation white men discredit Tibbs, including the chief of police in Sparta, and some physically threaten Tibbs. It's an ugly but true depiction of race relations in the late 1960s in America, and what struck me was how poised and educated Tibbs is portrayed in comparison to the white men. It's not surprising, in ways, that the white men threaten Tibbs because they themselves feel threatened by this educated black man. What seemed to anger them the most is how Tibbs remains cool under the pressure, and once Tibbs becomes dedicated to the case, Tibbs' unrelenting pursuit of the truth further angers these men. Tibbs is the kind of police officer you want on your force; he's smart and he wants justice to be served. It's not difficult to see him as a hero in this film at times.

Tibbs with Police Chief Gillespie

While the race relations and the honor of Tibbs are interesting, what I found even more interesting was the developing relationship between the two main characters, Tibbs and Police Chief Gillespie (Rod Steiger). They are an unlikely pair; Tibbs is the epitome of sophistication and Gillespie is a sweaty mess. Yet the two men complement each other. At first, Gillespie's frequent errors and quickness to solve the case by finding just any suspect make him a despicable character. As the film progresses, though, we begin to see how he has some redeeming qualities, especially in how he defends Tibbs to other white men in Sparta. Gillespie's initial disrespect for Tibbs is appalling, but Tibbs is just as disrespectful towards Gillespie, albeit in a more subtle manner. In the end, it seems that the men have more in common than they (and we) realized.

In the Heat of the Night is definitely worth watching. Considering when the movie was released, and even now what race relations are in the United States, the film tells an interesting mystery while also commenting on race. This is one that even deserves a rewatch to examine and analyze how the director used shots and sound to further develop the characters and their stories.