The series movie profiles are coming up soon, and I'm sorry for the delay!
Can you guess who/what I'm going as tonight?
Monday 31 October 2011
Saturday 15 October 2011
Friday 23 September 2011
Tuesday 20 September 2011
Saturday 10 September 2011
Thursday 1 September 2011
Woody Allen's got a way with the ladies. As Oscar has shown time and time again, the (mostly) supporting girls in his films have attracted Academy attention with nominations and a few wins -- all distinctive in their own quirked out way, in films that took a different route of getting to a human core. Some of these nominees are generally known in a broad sense to be inexplicable, theatrically quotable, incredibly beloved, or even a little unbalanced. This next entry has had it kind of rough in years since, as being "illegibly" awarded the golden boy for a comedic performance that stands out in an otherwise "dramatic" bunch -- Marisa Tomei has withstood it, and to a lesser degree, so has the elevating appeal of 1995's winner...
Linda welcomes the light-headed Lenny in with a kind of warm hospitality as she shows him around and tells him a little about herself; especially making it aware that she has a sense of raunchy humor (the clock and pocketwatch!) and can totally take a joke. In Lenny's eyes, Linda is the joke, but one that is more sad than funny as she continues to giddily prattle on about her line of work, nonchalantly sharing her weak aspirartion to become a Broadway performer ("I sing..,") despite still appearing in cheap porno's under one of the funniest stage names.
--
Mira Sorvino plays Linda Ash, the air-headed hooker who is discovered by Woody Allen's Lenny as the mother of his adopted son after a lengthy search to find the maternal intelligence that his prodigal son has supposedly inherited.
Much to his surprise, Sorvino's Linda is the farthest thing from what he would have ever imagined. Name after name, person after person he locates her and sets up an appointment ("Are you my 3 o'clock?") at her Manhattan apartment for what she believes is simply another client looking for a good time.
Linda welcomes the light-headed Lenny in with a kind of warm hospitality as she shows him around and tells him a little about herself; especially making it aware that she has a sense of raunchy humor (the clock and pocketwatch!) and can totally take a joke. In Lenny's eyes, Linda is the joke, but one that is more sad than funny as she continues to giddily prattle on about her line of work, nonchalantly sharing her weak aspirartion to become a Broadway performer ("I sing..,") despite still appearing in cheap porno's under one of the funniest stage names.
Lenny goes along with it for the most part, trying to get as much backgroud as possible despite being disgusted at the lines she feeds him, and it's here that Sorvino lays a simple foundation for Linda; she's a woman who acts and behaves like an adult but is just as simply oblivious to how innocent she is. Speaking in a high-pitched register, Sovino's Linda's potty mouth is offset by her charming, uncalculating demeanor and thows Lenny offtrack as to why this woman does what she does in favor of conservative domesticality.
Linda then tries to ease Lenny into the mood by playing around and lossen him up with a little (ineffective) silly, nookie ("Pull, pull, pull the string!"). That is until Lenny takes a personal interest in Linda, asking if she has as a husband or a child...
...and in a flash Linda's exuberance falls and her face becomes still as this questioning of a child is perhaps the first time Linda has been confronted about a bold choice she made. It's this distinctive moment and Lenny's overall character that strikes a chord in Linda -- as he is most likely the first client she's "been with" who's interest is something beyond desires of the flesh -- but a chord that she chooses to shake off and bury for the sake of herself and professionalism.
Then when Lenny starts up about his strong dissaproval of Linda's lifestyle, Sorvino's Linda puts her foot down and offers him one last chance; do it or not. Lenny tells her he wants to talk, Linda gives him a refund, and kicks him out in a hurry.
Still compelled to figure her out, Lenny pursues Sorvino's Linda for information about herself and her family past, (which basically entails a wide array of dirty deeds and more than petty crimes) which she speaks of with little hesitation, reminding him, that despite the way she lives now, she has ambition and self-respect.
Sorvino handles the broad, brash, unsubtle dialouge with savvy nonchalance and sharp timing; in on the light joking, but never to the point that the levity falls to the weak intentions of the writing which "shapes" her character.
Through these sequence of scenes, the narrative places the two in an assortment of meetings/"dates" which follows the simple, unexpected growing friendship between two strangers who, nevertheless, have an odd palpable disconnect. With Sorvino's Linda slowly becoming more eager to build on a bond she's never had, and Allen's Lenny becoming more tentative entering personal, intimate territory. As such, these scenes also convey a similar form of asymmetry: displaying Sorvino and Allen as a hilarious, serviceable contrasting pair, yet at the same time revealing Allen's shallow construction of a person who's more of a device than a character.
In his writing, playing, and direction Allen sees Linda through a mildly misogynistic lens; using the character as a pathetic joke for which surprises and humor sprout from -- a wacky hooker who shoots out outrageous one-liners -- and at the character's very expense. Instead of having Linda "in" on the joke (as Sorvino's playing does), Allen has the joke on her; wanting us to laugh at Linda, not kindly along with her. His limiting, insensitivity as scripted might have the actress playing her fall into these easy pitfalls -- and this is precisely where Sorvino's performance elevates the role out of the gutter.
(*As yet another side-thought/last word, I cannot simply ignore the blatant meanness and near cruelty revealed in the last scene wherein Linda meets her son with a formal handshake yet neither know the haunting truth that Allen's Lenny prepares to hide for some time. As if it wants to shatter any complexity for Linda to discover this truth and draw upon it. Like the rest of the movie, the scene is played for shallow irony of a "witty" Greek tragedy, but doesn't actually play as anything remotely sad or moving just a "ha ha" kick in the nuts for us wanting Linda to get everything she deserved back. Only Sorvino quickly conveys, in a flash, the underlying emotional depth -- the picture above when Lenny's admiring her (there) daughter and Sorvino's face focuses on Lenny and a feeling passes across. I don't know. Do you think that this ending just wasn't fit or just plain, blatant meanness to the character and to you? When the chorus breaks out singing the lame-ass, "When You're Smiling" -- I was doing anything but.
Sorvino handles the broad, brash, unsubtle dialouge with savvy nonchalance and sharp timing; in on the light joking, but never to the point that the levity falls to the weak intentions of the writing which "shapes" her character. 
Through Sorvino's characterization, Linda doesn't operate under the repressive "dumb-as-a-post" cartoonish intentions of the piece, but instead crafts Linda as a woman who's life has been opened up, revealing her pained desperation she honestly wants to escape. The film scripts the character in bold, unsubtle strokes, but Sorvino's performance is surprisingly characterized with quiet, nuanced shadings, which serves the character in many ways.
Linda's revelatory moment where she explains the depths of her despair is both illuminating and heartbreaking, a moment that in the script is intended to be probably Linda's single moment of lucidity, but in Sorvino's performance, it is yet another beat of consistent clarity. (*Something annoying I kept on noticing on my viewing this time around was how Allen's camera is restrained at a tangible, physical distance from Sorvino throughout the film -- allowing nearly no singular close-ups or independent reality -- further attempting to make her an accessory who's simply there without any individual purpose. Even during her revelation in the kitchen Allen's camera stays static and dramatically/emotionally uninterested in Linda's dilemma.)
Though her chosen vocality does little to convey the nuance of Linda's desperation, when "allowed", Sorvino's face quietly flickers with moments of genuine humanity and understanding. Thereby, letting such flashes stitch effectively to craft an interesting, plausible character arc for a very appealing and delightful character.
And yet, while not allowing Linda to become the one-note caricature Allen intended, Sorvino makes the wise choice of not providing some sort of underlying intelligence as a source of change or revelation. Instead, Sorvino simply textures each moment with a sense of nuanced integrity which anchors her performance and provides a new dimensional life to Mighty Aphrodite's banal and muddy narrative.
Sorvino's work far surpasses the material and lends this glib movie a glowing heart and soul; a beacon of sweet hope among a hopeless surround.
Turning a sketch into a vividly human(e) character who could live beyond the confines of the narrative and be just as compelling is always something of a treat to experience. That I could encounter them and become even more fascinated with their existence, is even cooler. With Linda Ash, Mira Sorvino's simple yet elegant performance conveys the human life emerging from a Betty Boop-ish cartoon with sweetness, sympathy, integrity, energy, and hearty humor. But that I would love to be friends or even an acquaintance (in a Woody Allen movie, no less) with a quietly complex, yet hugely appealing person like Linda is, in its way, extraordinary.
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(*As yet another side-thought/last word, I cannot simply ignore the blatant meanness and near cruelty revealed in the last scene wherein Linda meets her son with a formal handshake yet neither know the haunting truth that Allen's Lenny prepares to hide for some time. As if it wants to shatter any complexity for Linda to discover this truth and draw upon it. Like the rest of the movie, the scene is played for shallow irony of a "witty" Greek tragedy, but doesn't actually play as anything remotely sad or moving just a "ha ha" kick in the nuts for us wanting Linda to get everything she deserved back. Only Sorvino quickly conveys, in a flash, the underlying emotional depth -- the picture above when Lenny's admiring her (there) daughter and Sorvino's face focuses on Lenny and a feeling passes across. I don't know. Do you think that this ending just wasn't fit or just plain, blatant meanness to the character and to you? When the chorus breaks out singing the lame-ass, "When You're Smiling" -- I was doing anything but.
* Joan Allen in Nixon
* Mira Sorvino in Mighty Aphrodite
* Mare Winningham in Georgia
* Kathleen Quinlan in Apollo 13
* Kate Winslet in Sense and Sensibility
The five ladies that make up the distinctive, solid category in this vaguely dull year (Braveheart? Mel Gibson??) are sharp standouts and five performances that have been in high honor among those in the blogosphere -- each garnering varying amounts of respect and love, where four dramatic roles are in company with a comedic portrayal that ends up striking gold. In a time when comedy and Oscar had formed a lovable affair (the '90s, seemed loaded) and the latter had accepted the fact that comedy is no less of a challenge or accomplishment as straight drama. Profiling some of the nominees for this year are a few doublings, as not every nominee had a individual profile. However, if you want to contribute something, even a few words, in honor of these nominees I will be posting throughout the week. Because even those who didn't get the pleasure of being personally reviewed still deserve our attention and respect.
I'll be updating this page as more entries come in along with my own, coming today! Click on name link to see their contribution.
* Amir of Amiresque concisely takes us through the journey of Kate Winslet's Marianne in Sense and Sensibility.
* Amir of Amiresque concisely takes us through the journey of Kate Winslet's Marianne in Sense and Sensibility.* My profiling of Mira Sorvino's lovely, yet under-appreciated work in a movie that doesn't deserve it, is right here.
* Fritz ranks Mira the 19th Best Supporting Actress winner in his amazing, thought-out complete ranking of all the winners.
* Fritz ranks Mira the 19th Best Supporting Actress winner in his amazing, thought-out complete ranking of all the winners.
Tuesday 30 August 2011
Saturday 27 August 2011
* Click on picture to watch the full movie *
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A while back I did a post about a Halloween fan film that caught my attention, and even despite it's flaws, oddly interested me with a subtle charm and genuine (though not always precise) nostalgic dedication. Not too too long ago I had heard about a tribute/fan film with an interesting title and twist: Judith, a "prequel" to the original film which gives us a little more than a glimpse into the older sister of Michael Myers who's infamously murdered in the opening sequence. Directed by Josh Hasty and written by Kenny Caperton (the man who lives in the replicated Myers House, which he built himself, that's becoming just as famous as the original), the film is only about an half an hour long, and is basically set up to let us witness a somewhat alternative opening to this series (as opposed to jumping right into the murder). It's the few brief hours and minutes before the climax finds its way into Judith's room, that shows a little bit of the town we will explore in scope in the later films, but mostly of the Judith character and her friend who plan a camp out with some people in the back yard.
I went into this very excited, that someone had come up with an original idea that would be interesting to explore. The trailer looked gorgeous -- professional, clear, well staged, and ruggedly retro -- and it had been shot at the Myers House NC with sharp cinematography and lighting. But I'm sad to say that the actual piece is a work of style over substance, even as a short film within a wide cannon of dense plotting throughout the franchise. This is a clearly a labor of love, as most tributes are, but the love doesn't really extend to actually crafting an essential/thought provoking entry to deepen Carpenter's intricately subtle masterpiece. Not that this film needs "more" (it's simplicity follows the same lane as the original), or that it needs to be as brilliant, but working as more of a character study, it falters in its clarity. Judith stays on its polished surface when it should be trying to sculpt something a bit deeper; such as an illumination or an expansion on the enigmatic mythology of the many themes of darkness embodied by Michael Myers and the surrounding characters. And the title character herself, played by an appealing Sarah Stephenson, is nevertheless a cipher (as Michael should be) that doesn't contribute to opening up interpretation on the Boogeyman or her place in his story.
I appreciate the vivid technicalities Hasty imbues his film with, but I only wish that the subtext was as clarifying and engaging -- as a few stringed, substantial glimpses can resonate in surprising, memorable ways.
I went into this very excited, that someone had come up with an original idea that would be interesting to explore. The trailer looked gorgeous -- professional, clear, well staged, and ruggedly retro -- and it had been shot at the Myers House NC with sharp cinematography and lighting. But I'm sad to say that the actual piece is a work of style over substance, even as a short film within a wide cannon of dense plotting throughout the franchise. This is a clearly a labor of love, as most tributes are, but the love doesn't really extend to actually crafting an essential/thought provoking entry to deepen Carpenter's intricately subtle masterpiece. Not that this film needs "more" (it's simplicity follows the same lane as the original), or that it needs to be as brilliant, but working as more of a character study, it falters in its clarity. Judith stays on its polished surface when it should be trying to sculpt something a bit deeper; such as an illumination or an expansion on the enigmatic mythology of the many themes of darkness embodied by Michael Myers and the surrounding characters. And the title character herself, played by an appealing Sarah Stephenson, is nevertheless a cipher (as Michael should be) that doesn't contribute to opening up interpretation on the Boogeyman or her place in his story.
I appreciate the vivid technicalities Hasty imbues his film with, but I only wish that the subtext was as clarifying and engaging -- as a few stringed, substantial glimpses can resonate in surprising, memorable ways.
Sunday 14 August 2011
I have been in talks some people about a continuation of the Supporting Actress feature on MovieMania, but with a little twist to open things up for others to contribute. It's been a dry summer for me (literally and figuratively) but not really a bad. The blog has been sitting for a bit due to mainly my mild writer's block and the preparation for college in a few weeks. It's exciting yet a bit nerve-racking as it's a big step for me, but one that I will hopefully benefit from in different ways. But, I hope to post whenever I have free time starting in the fall (I have no classes on Tuesday's or Thursday's!) and I'm not sure how much the workload will be -- does anyone know from experience of freshmen year? -- but I'm dedicated to the blogging world and hope to stay so.
Anyways...Robert of His Eyes Were Watching Movies and I are getting together the SA 1995 crew, with five of us each doing a profile on one of the nominees of this popular year. Then when all is complete the profiles will be combined and posted on our individual blogs. If you have any overall thoughts on this year or want to contribute any kind of your own profiling on a performance, let me know and I can post the link!
Oh, and can you guess which nominee I'm focusing on??
Oh, and can you guess which nominee I'm focusing on??
Sunday 24 July 2011
The ending to the rarely broadcasted TV cut that switches the movie around quite a bit and especially turns a darker, eerie conculsion into one that ends on a happier note.
Just as the ambulance is about to pull away, a white sheet pops up behind Laurie...
...to reveal the warm-hearted acquaintance she made the night before named Jimmy.
Laurie's face of fear crumbles into a wave of thankful, stunned relief as she realizes that she won't be the only one who came out alive from the long, traumatizing night of terror.
Many fans critize this scene particularly for the acting and the cheesiness it brings to the end of a great movie, but I think Jamie Lee's work here feels as genuine as it always does, as in this alternate ending, Laurie may have lost old friends but now she might just gain a new one. The fear and happiness for the future washes over her face, because she knows that it may be over but it will never be over.
"What's the matter?"
"WE MADE IT!"
Though I wonder why this ending even needed to be shot; everything else was altered/cut because of violence and such, but the original ending could have stayed fine where it was. The original, with Laurie just gazing out past us as Mr. Sandman tunes in and Michael's mask burns is haunting and dark. With Laurie Strode as the (supposedly) only survivor of the massacre. I wonder if this was shot as an alternative end to the actual movie and not just the TV version, because that might make more sense.
Just one of the many fascinating things about these movies.
Friday 15 July 2011
Only a few days ago did I hear of the news that the fan-favorite sequel Halloween 2 is going to be released for a anniversary special edition in September of this year, but the main problem is...it is only being released in Blu-Ray! I don't understand why, especially after fans have been dying for the extra material, they wouldn't simply extend the much awaited release to the DVD format for even more people to enjoy, and for their profits to increase. It really just bothers me because I don't have a Blu-Ray player and I'm dying to see the extra goodies and visual enhancements that this edition brings. On top of that, I don't believe that the Blu-Ray even has many extras -- what I've heard about is a documentary and an alternative ending. By "alternative ending", is Universal referring to the TV cut ending in the ambulance ("We made it!") or something never before seen to anyone? And why aren't there more scenes? or even include the whole TV cut? I don't get why they simply cannot release everything at once and make wheelbarrows of money of it. Maybe something will come along in the form of an "official" release (the TV cut isn't even played on AMC anymore) that won't be too far down the line. I don't know...Saturday 9 July 2011
George Lucas' enormous return to the screen, gave the end of a great decade the Movie Event, which sent even non Star Wars disciples into a frenzy of excitement, hype, and hope. It was to the '90s what Batman and Avatar were to the '80s and '00s; mounting a spectacle for film lovers to gather around and cheer with one another. The turn out was something a bit different, with the public split, eliciting cries of joy and anger from different sides of the spectrum. Did Lucas flat out ruin Star Wars? Or was he just warming up before the big game? Many will tell you reasons supporting each, and provide evidence based off of if they have lost faith in the Force or if they are still loyal believers. The public wanted so much and what Lucas gave them was hardly a bad catch by any means, even if it falls, frankly, very short of what it should have really been.
The movie, obviously, has to achieve the opposite of the last chapter Return of the Jedi which closes the story by opening it up to us with new eyes and serving up new state-of-the-art images and action sequences served on a golden tray, with a brand spanking new storyline to tie in with the original we all fell in deep love with. The opening, giving us mostly a foundation of the two Jedi's as well as the intricate plot, jumps directly into the action, without really so much as a "hello" and expects us to pick up the pieces as the action moves ahead. It worked with the chapters that came before it, and rarely will you hear any complaints about where the narrative launches from (i.e. in the midst of a battle), though here the introduction with Obi-Wan and Qui Gon starts off the trilogy on a kind of unframilar path that feeds us too much at once, and it rarely lets up throughout the journey.
Over the last 12 or so years since its famous release, The Phantom Menace has been considered the worst out of not only the new trilogy but of all six movies. The old excuse of Lucas' "rusty-ness", of not being a director for over twenty years, has been spread but rarely is it actually supported as a reason for the film's total lack of popularity. And it shouldn't. What Lucas does here is admirably daunting, as he expands his fantasy universe and gives its roots a hefty dose of political backbone and introducing us to a complicated trade embargo with a mysterious, slightly creepy Queen and two Jedi in the mix as they intend to protect and serve as well as uncover the mystery of the newly emerged presence of the supposedly extinct Sith, while making a discovery in the force through a young slave boy. Sounds simple enough, but there lies the problem. Simplicity is no longer a word to be used for this kind of movie whose ambitious ideas and interests fall to overly convoluted trappings and cloying atmosphere.
What can be attributed to George Lucas' near total lack of ability to write genuinely engaging stories (the original notwithstanding), The Phantom Menace falters to tell a tale that holds the imagination and expands it. The film has grand scope, and Lucas visually expands his world due to his impressively detailed computer generated images; but the story and direction keep the film from expanding in any kind of intellectual, emotional, or spiritual ways. Too overly infatuated by its visual triumphs, the energy of the action and situations draws inward to a stale, hollow core. The direction aside, Lucas' other issue is that of a script crammed with drab, stupid dialouge ("YIPEEEE!"), flat and uninteresting characterizations, and narrative structure and threads that clunk along until a thankfully redeeming final act where we can have a bit of fun. Even then, the movie never once discovers the life, humanity, spirit, fun or spontaneity that the first two embraced so deeply and spread through to millions. It's all so sterile, mannered, joyless and well, boring. The bland trade dispute, a cool villain who's reduced to about eight minutes of screen time, the forgettable, unquotable dialogue, and the cringe worthy acting (none of them even worth discussing, as none of the actors are able escape Lucas' repressive energy).
But what is George Lucas actually trying to say about his mythological philosophies? He's clearly got his heart and dedication into it all, but they feel continuously misplaced and misused to forward the story rather than explore it. Maybe its the doing of the editing, but many individual scenes feel unfocused and left open; as if they have some kind of idea but don't know how to finish them or make them transcend to connect. Even back in 1999 the movie didn't hold up well, and over ten years later it hasn't improved much in terms of structure or clarity by any means.
Outside of some inspired action oriented scenes and a kick ass lightsaber finale, the movie is just unsatisfying for any moviegoer, and I can imagine the hits fans took from over anticipation. Not horrible, but the Force has been drained considerably.
The movie, obviously, has to achieve the opposite of the last chapter Return of the Jedi which closes the story by opening it up to us with new eyes and serving up new state-of-the-art images and action sequences served on a golden tray, with a brand spanking new storyline to tie in with the original we all fell in deep love with. The opening, giving us mostly a foundation of the two Jedi's as well as the intricate plot, jumps directly into the action, without really so much as a "hello" and expects us to pick up the pieces as the action moves ahead. It worked with the chapters that came before it, and rarely will you hear any complaints about where the narrative launches from (i.e. in the midst of a battle), though here the introduction with Obi-Wan and Qui Gon starts off the trilogy on a kind of unframilar path that feeds us too much at once, and it rarely lets up throughout the journey.
Over the last 12 or so years since its famous release, The Phantom Menace has been considered the worst out of not only the new trilogy but of all six movies. The old excuse of Lucas' "rusty-ness", of not being a director for over twenty years, has been spread but rarely is it actually supported as a reason for the film's total lack of popularity. And it shouldn't. What Lucas does here is admirably daunting, as he expands his fantasy universe and gives its roots a hefty dose of political backbone and introducing us to a complicated trade embargo with a mysterious, slightly creepy Queen and two Jedi in the mix as they intend to protect and serve as well as uncover the mystery of the newly emerged presence of the supposedly extinct Sith, while making a discovery in the force through a young slave boy. Sounds simple enough, but there lies the problem. Simplicity is no longer a word to be used for this kind of movie whose ambitious ideas and interests fall to overly convoluted trappings and cloying atmosphere.
What can be attributed to George Lucas' near total lack of ability to write genuinely engaging stories (the original notwithstanding), The Phantom Menace falters to tell a tale that holds the imagination and expands it. The film has grand scope, and Lucas visually expands his world due to his impressively detailed computer generated images; but the story and direction keep the film from expanding in any kind of intellectual, emotional, or spiritual ways. Too overly infatuated by its visual triumphs, the energy of the action and situations draws inward to a stale, hollow core. The direction aside, Lucas' other issue is that of a script crammed with drab, stupid dialouge ("YIPEEEE!"), flat and uninteresting characterizations, and narrative structure and threads that clunk along until a thankfully redeeming final act where we can have a bit of fun. Even then, the movie never once discovers the life, humanity, spirit, fun or spontaneity that the first two embraced so deeply and spread through to millions. It's all so sterile, mannered, joyless and well, boring. The bland trade dispute, a cool villain who's reduced to about eight minutes of screen time, the forgettable, unquotable dialogue, and the cringe worthy acting (none of them even worth discussing, as none of the actors are able escape Lucas' repressive energy).
But what is George Lucas actually trying to say about his mythological philosophies? He's clearly got his heart and dedication into it all, but they feel continuously misplaced and misused to forward the story rather than explore it. Maybe its the doing of the editing, but many individual scenes feel unfocused and left open; as if they have some kind of idea but don't know how to finish them or make them transcend to connect. Even back in 1999 the movie didn't hold up well, and over ten years later it hasn't improved much in terms of structure or clarity by any means.
Outside of some inspired action oriented scenes and a kick ass lightsaber finale, the movie is just unsatisfying for any moviegoer, and I can imagine the hits fans took from over anticipation. Not horrible, but the Force has been drained considerably.
Thursday 30 June 2011
Monday 27 June 2011
It's been a while since I've gone back and revisited the whole Star Wars franchise all at once, and with a real critical eye besides a simple thumbs up or down. They are movies that even die hard fans are divided over, though generally consensus' have been formed as to which ones are truly great films and which are slumming in crucial and essential elements. I tend to agree with them for the most part, with one or two exceptions, but overall they provide fun, exhilarating entertainment that easily be enjoyed over and over again. So to begin the journey, I will start reviewing from the very beginning of the saga and work my way through a galaxy far, far away and at last rank them from best to worst.
* I will still be continuing with everything else, including my much delayed Halloween project!
Saturday 11 June 2011
Baby Doll (1956)_____________________
"Strange, sad, and sexy, but only occasionally thoughtful in its organic absurdity....Baker's performance, however, is a quiet triumph."
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The combination of playwright Tennessee Williams and director Elia Kazan gave 1950's Hollywood something that had rarely been felt or experienced by any kind of public, movie-going or not. A public that had been accustomed to straight-laced conformity and tight moral codes of conduct, one that had been repressed from seeing the world they live in on screen and all of its unpolished ugliness. Baby Doll isn't the first of its kind, for sure, but it carries on a carefully constructed kind of world where eccentricity melds with the hurting humanity of those which make it up. Williams' trademark story elements are all set in place, but where this story takes its twist is rooted in its essential weirdness; though now opened up beyond the confinements of a stage (the film was written directly for the screen) and into a wider cinematic realm of bizzare-ness.
When it's summertime, and hot and sweaty in Tennesse Williams' glorious paradise, you know you're in for a treat, and here we find a child-woman stuck with an old repressed grump of a husband while he rants and raves about it. Simple enough? He wants her, she doesn't want him -- in fact, she's not sure what she wants. And I believe it is this compelling mystery that, for the most part, anchors Baby Doll from the get-go, and holds a stark point of interest throughout. Though there's still this strange sense that floats along with the sexy, erotic air which Williams and his director so charismatically infuse into the film, like a kind of overblown absurdity including adult sized cribs, rocking horses, a game of hide and seek, direct innuendos, and the vivid eccentricities of dialouge and characterization.
On first viewing, the movie seemed too shallow for its own good, all of this "show" and style (which many have shared the same feeling), but seeing it again, I've noticed that it's those trademarks of vibrant huamnity I've mentioned before that ground the absurdity into something plausible and organic. Rarely have I seen such complexities and narrative threads woven directly into a single character, as I have with Baby Doll Meighan. She is the story arc -- it is her growth that turns the narrative, and Carroll Baker does one helluva job handling this complex character with as much simplicity as she does. She tracks Baby Doll's change with a sense of ease, spontaneity, and discovery of intellect, sexual maturity, and integrity. It's one of the most underrated performances given by actress of the time or any time, and it's what makes the character resonate with vast emotional depth.
However, I'm not fully convinced that the movie itself pulls the same kind of emotional weight/narrative hooks in its plot development or surrounding characters. Maybe it's just hitting a blind spot for me, but what Kazan gets right is unbalanced occasionally with everything else because his imagination and ideas are not as fully rounded or satisfying as he maybe thought they were. His use of clarity in his expansivness of visual space is refreshing in context of the world outside, but inside its what's going on inside that feels eventually limited and repressed. For example the one-note roles of Archie Lee, Vacarro, and Aunt Rose only act as mere devices, than humane contributions to the narrative (as Baker's Baby Doll is). It's a big reason why A Streetcar Named Desire is such a gem, with imaginative and completley human characters that are not confined by any poorly shaped notions of writing or direction.
It's sad to see that while, Elia Kazan respects and nurtures the character of Baby Doll and to have her transcend, he leaves the rest of the project eventually flat and muddled with confusion, but the mystery of what Baby Doll desires still hangs, and thanks to Carroll Baker, it feels so much more rich and emotionally satisfying to leave it that way.
Baby Doll: B- / Carroll Baker: A
Friday 10 June 2011
These are the following film reviews/analsysis' that I have completed or will complete and will be updated regularly. Will be organized when more start coming in. Click on link for full/partial review.
* Baby Doll (1956)
* Psycho (1998)
* The Fighter (2010)
* American Graffiti (1973) -- a newly endorsed, polished review is upcoming!
* Baby Doll (1956)
* Psycho (1998)
* The Fighter (2010)
* American Graffiti (1973) -- a newly endorsed, polished review is upcoming!
Thursday 9 June 2011
This new scene takes place a few months after the murder of Judith with Loomis aginst the staff of Smith's Grove, as he begs them to put Michael under maximum secrity. I think this scene helps to flesh out Loomis' personal/emotional involvement in finding and destroying Michael and the twisted psychological connection he has with him.
But the scene also conveys the "dedication" Loomis has to his patient and how he will keep him locked away as tight as possible. It's interesting to see Loomis in a different kind of wardrobe,too -- the jacket and turtleneck and hat -- but they don't use makeup or any wig too make him look any younger even though he is from when we next see him. Maybe to show that he hasn't changed much, as Michael hasn't.
These doctors piss me off -- LISTEN TO THE MAN! Dr. Sam Loomis blooms as tragic a character as any heroine of the series, because rarely does anyone want to actually listen to his "madness" (aka truth) and hell breaks loose because of it.
After he leaves the conferece room, Loomis goes to Michael's cell and finds him siting and waiting. The illusion to "staring at a wall, looking past the wall" and his inhumane patience comes into visual play here and its eerie.
"You fooled them haven't you, Michael? But not me."
This scene also sets up two things; a following additional scene after he makes his escape, and the fact that Loomis knows the game long before Michael really begins to play it. Which makes there pairing as hero/villian more sturdy and interesting.
And the kid knows it too. He only needs to wait now.
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