I've been dying to see this movie for months. And finally, the celluloid gods smiled down on me.

See, I live in a "small town." Well, it's not that small really, but it's far from what some might consider civilized society. I usually associate this with decent concert venues, a multitude of delicious restaurant fare (especially vegetarian) and most importantly a decent independent cinema. I mean, come on! I lived in Dayton, Ohio, the armpit of American civilization (and interestingly enough my birthplace), and even they had a kick ass independent cinema!

Well, Visalia finally brought a decent independent film to town. At the beginning of the month, Control came to town. For two nights only, the black-and-white film by noted photographer Anton Corbijn, came to Visalia and I was front and center during the first showing. The film chronicles the formation and demise of the band Joy Division, a post-punk British rock band whose influence can be heard in many of the artists that climbed to prominance in the 80s and beyond.

The film focuses its narrative on Ian Curtis, the ill-fated lead singer who desperately wants to escape his drab life in Macclesfield, England. Soon after joining musicians Peter Hook and Bernard Sumner, Curtis finds what might be his golden ticket. After adding Stephen Morris and dropping the name Warsaw, Joy Division is born. The band rocket to success in England amongst contemporaries as the Sex Pistols and Iggy Pop.

Things turn sour for Curtis as he is diagnosed with epilepsy and has to undergo a brutal drug regiment in order to handle the demanding tour schedule of Joy Division. He also becomes swept up in a love affair with journalist Annik Honoré, causing significant strain with is wife Deborah Woodruff, who lives in Macclesfield with her and Curtis' daughter.

Of course, the plot of the film spirals to inevitable end of Curtis, who hangs himself on the eve of the band's American tour. This tragedy was a great blow to music, as the world will never know what potential Curtis would have had if he could have risen above his internal struggles. So true for other musicians as well.

What separates this film from the parade of other musical biopics is Corbijn, who has photographed and filmed musicians for much of his professional career. Responsible for album art such as U2's Joshua Tree and music videos such as Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus," Corbijn makes this film just about the coolest I have every seen. The first half of the film feels like a photographer's portfolio, as even routine scenes of crossing the street are infused with such artistry that would take your breath away.

But the best thing about this film is the music. Not only does it introduce you to the wonderful band Joy Division, but also the artists which influenced the band's development. Oh, to live at the dawn of the 80s. I can think of so many worse things. If you have any sense in your brain, this will bring you back to the film over and over again.

The demise of Joy Division led Hook, Sumner and Morris to form New Order, which carried on in the shadow of Joy Division, influencing and changing the course of music in its own right. I've always been a fan of New Order, but not so much Joy Division. Happily, after this film, that has changed.

Pick this one up, definitely.

Posted by Nick at 09:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I don't do this often enough...

I watched a movie tonight that I thought was very good. I don't know when I got the urge to rent Cashback, a 2006 film adapted from the Acedemy Award-nominated short film of the same name, but I think it had something to do with iTunes. One of those advertisements you see in the iTunes Store maybe. One day, I saw it, and it was trying to rear me towards a catalog of short films nominated for the 2006 Academy Awards. I think I clicked on Cashback, watched a preview, and then filed said memory away.

It could be that. Or it could have something to do with Sean Biggerstaff, the Scottish actor perhaps best known for his role as Gryffindor Quidditch team captain Oliver Wood, the main attraction of the Harry Potter films, at least for me. Anyways, I made it a note to rent Cashback and I finally got around to it tonight.

The film is excellent. It was a beautiful film that artfully weaves in fantasy and reality without coming off as a hokey as a comic book film or fantasy/horror picture. On top of that, the cinematography is beautiful and the actors are very likable.

Sorry, I'm a bit rusty at this, but here goes...

The film centers around Ben Willis, an art student living in the UK who has just ended things with his girlfriend. After a few days, her quick recovery over their relationship leaves him winded and heart broken, and Ben develops chronic insomnia. Not hard to believe, of course. How cruel a world do we live in that we are denied sleep as an escape from the thorns of a bitter break up?

Anyways, Ben decides that, since he's got an extra eight hours every day to burn, he might as well get some cash for it. As a result he takes a night job at Sainbury's supermarket, along with a slate of other wily characters who flee to the nocturnal hours in their own vain attempts to pass the time.

Ben also finds safe harbor in this place, but he sees different opportunities for his time than hiding from clocks or horsing around. Time moves quickest for Ben when he freezes it — examining each second to uncover its deepest and most guarded beauty. The short film captured this unique story well, and it would seem to be the best place for such a story to remain. I think the 2006 film, however, expands on this narrative vein well and ultimately brings it to a poised and beautiful ending.

Yeah, I might be wrong. There was a lot of female nudity, but you did get to see Sean without his shirt on, so I think that balances it out. I'm well aware I probably have the minority opinion in this arena, but I liked the film. It's the first film in a while that's brought me here to rant about it. Also it's the first catch on Netflix that actually had my fingers on my temple instead of on my iPod or the kitty's head.

Maybe it's worth a spin, yes? Now if only I could see Into The Wild or Control.

Oh, and I'm still around! I'm planning an update very soon.

Posted by Nick at 08:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This is a documentary I have been waiting quite some time to see. There is something so horrific and alluring about this film, a documentary on one of the world's most-chosen suicide spots. Jumping from the crosswalk on the Golden Gate Bridge almost always results in death. Falling helpless into such a grim certainty was enough for 24 individuals during 2004, and this film captured 23 of those individuals' deaths.

I have been so fascinated by death since I graduated from college and started a life on my own. Growing up, there are so many things before you, death is rarely acknowledged or considered. It was only when I had embarked on that my career's empty road that I really began to consider the inevitability that I will one day pass. It's scary to think about. It's even scarier to imagine what it would be like for someone to face that inevitability in less than 5 seconds — the time it takes for your body to fall from the bridge and hit the bay.

The film was very good, but it was not "horrific" as I had expected. You get a lot of what you expect to see. The footage is amazing and what you'd expect. Nothing is very close-up, so its impossible to capture much of the person's emotion in their final moments. In the end, the film is horrific in its premise: How can a filmmaker set up a camera for one year with the intention of capturing suicides on film and not actively intercede on behalf of very these troubled individuals? According to the filmmaker, efforts were made when a person was observed making moves as if they were about to jump, but that creepy feeling is not fully shaken through the whole of the film.

What I found most disturbing about the film were the interviews with family members and friends of individuals who had jumped from the bridge. In many cases, they had anticipated the attempt and even tacitly encouraged it. They had given up any hope on re-affirming this person's hold on this world and instead wanted to let them go in peace. I suppose this elicits some understanding, but not much from me. One woman had not only given her friend the drugs that further pushed him to his wit's end, she brushed him off on what turned out to be his moment of need, hours before he gave it all up for glimpse beyond.

All in all, I'd say it is worth seeing. It doesn't demystify death for me in any way, however. The film is effective in tying together the varying lives of individuals who are desperate and troubled enough to consider ending their lives. It helps to shed a light on a world some walk in that is devoid of hope and meaning. This is thankfully a world I have never walked in, but hopefully, if anyone I know falls down this path, I might recognize it and intercede on their behalf.

According to filmmakers, one person attempted to throw themselves from the bridge once every 15 days.

Posted by Nick at 05:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

One of those "green vegetable" films I've had on my Netflix queues for a while is the 2005 documentary Why We Fight. The film explores the now long-established American industry that makes war and purports to defend this nation from threats both foreign and domestic — an entity dubbed by President Dwight D. Eisenhower, Supreme Commander during World War II and two-term president, as the military-industrial complex.

The concept of a military-industrial complex is something not easily grasped by someone from my generation. The apparatus itself is not wholly visualized in a government building or agency. It is not limited to one group of people or particular creed to statue. The first time I ever heard the term was in my high school history class where my teacher went to the extraordinary precaution of closing the door and swearing us all to secrecy while he divulged his theory as to who was really responsible for the assassination of John F. Kennedy. The movie never directly addressed these controversial judgments of history, but it did hit on one event that I will likely fully conceptualize throughout my entire adult life: The Iraq War.

Ever since I was a young boy, I have heard of the evils of Saddam Hussein and how imperative it was to U.S. interest to eliminate him from the world. I have never been personally slighted or directly influenced by the evils of this man, but I have nonetheless heard the steady drumbeat of war coming from the mouths of politicians, whether on Capitol Hill or on the Sunday morning talk shows, since the early nineties and to the final days leading to March 19, 2003, when George W. Bush ordered U.S. military forces to end the Iraq regime and uncover the fabled "weapons of mass destruction."

I remember that day very well. I was in my hotel room on my spring break vacation in New Orleans. I was with my friends Missy, Sonya and Ilya and we had just recently arrived in New Orleans and were preparing to go out for the evening. I paid particular attention to the television screen that evening as the opening shots of the war were fired. I remember hearing Sonya ask why I would watch something so uninteresting and I couldn't help but point out the seriousness of history that was occurring at that very moment. That moment was as serious then and it was a turning point for all Americans, whether they tacitly approved of our involvement and turned their televisions off that evening and slept soundly or if they very earnestly tried to convince their politicians to change course and sat awake fearful of the results of our actions.

The film seizes on this shared experience we all have and attempts to connect the invisible, faceless machine that is the military-industrial complex the Eisenhower choose to warn Americans about in his waning days in power. The film attempts to explain why America fights in conflicts around the world and tries to uncover the shifty, mysterious agendas of public figures, corporations and shadowy think tanks that collectively built the machine that paved our way into the conflict.

As an concerned American and journalist, I look at the Iraq War, like many, with increasing impatience and anger. Is this the conflict our president said was ours to fight in the wake of 9/11? Did we truly enter this war with no exit strategy or were these policymakers neglecting to tell us the whole truth on the subject — that we would never leave.

The role of the military-industrial complex might not be the whole bogeyman the film paints it as. There are some conclusions drawn in the war, especially regarding American motivations at the end of the Second World War and at the beginning of the Atomic Age, that my roommate and I openly objected to while watching the film. But the film's detailed exploration of the military-industrial complex, from the larger conflict today to its affects on ordinary people with ordinary lives as military contractors, soldiers and weapons engineers, is very accurate and eye opening, especially to someone who might be completely unaware of the beast that lives in breaths in and out of our government today.

No one should watch this movie without an open mind and willingness to engage the facts in open discourse. As Eisenhower said in his closing address, "Only an alert and knowledgeable citizenry can compel the proper meshing of the huge industrial and military machinery of defense with our peaceful methods and goals so that security and liberty may prosper together." While many in the annals of history have failed their countrymen in this endeavor, anyone hoping to conceptualize today what Eisenhower warned of so long ago cannot do so blindly and without a firm grasp of the facts at hand.

Please watch this film.

Posted by Nick at 07:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

As the credits rolled after the documentary film Jesus Camp and the raised eyebrow on my face began to dip south, I started to realized the fundamental flaw in characterizing the film as a documentary. This film is a certified horror movie. Scariest thing I've seen all year.

The documentary, by directors Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, chronicles only a very thin slice of evangelical Christians in the United States. Most of the film focuses on the children's ministry of one Becky Fischer, who actively evangelizes to children and encourages them to spread the gospel amongst their family, friends and community.

The scene of the film is rather horrific, the number one worst day of the Bush presidency: Sandra Day O'Conner's announcement that she is stepping down from the Supreme Court. The stage is set for what evangelical Christians consider paramount to their agenda of re-establishing a Christian government in the United States. The cameras then descend on one of Fischer's children's conferences where kids are indoctrinated with the Christian faith.

What's really horrific about this film is the extent that these poor children have been completely mind-warped by this twisted woman. The film revolves around a boy and a girl, Levi and Rachel, who actively press strangers about the Christian fate, even asking one man, "If you died right now, where do you think you'll go?" At parts in the film, the kids are even encouraged to speak in tongues as adults press their hands on them to encourage the "holy spirit."

I don't know where to start with this movie. It's an excellent documentary and I think the filmmakers were very fair to Fischer and her cause. Even though she has been forced to shut down the "Kids on Fire" summer camp due to negative reaction to the film, she herself has stopped short to condemn the film. She feels the film helps communicate her message of faith and our children to the world. I couldn't agree with her more, I'm getting her message loud and clear.

She begins the film watching some of the filmmakers raw footage and remarks, "Liberals must be shaking in their boots when they see this!" I wouldn't label myself a "liberal," though I was shaking, but not because of my fear of the rising tide of evangelical youth prepared to spread the word or God to the masses. I felt very sorry for these children, who no longer play with action figures and dolls, play in baseball leagues and softball, they are forced to handle more difficult concepts like abortion and culture war in their parent's and pastor's despicable plot to impose their political will on this nation.

I am thankful that I never had to experience the kind of spiritual agony these kids must endure. I can't tell you how many times I could imagine every word through these children's mouths came from someplace else. They are mindless androids, and denying them the right to learn and make their own decisions is, as one commentator in the film suggests, a mortal sin.

If you're dying to see this film, please pick it up. But don't turn the light off...

Posted by Nick at 06:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Well, after my first week back, I think I did alright. I'd like to log 4 entries a week, and this week I did three (I don't count the return entry). I'll try to stick to the schedule, but when you are up at 5 in the morning and are likely the first to see an article about senior citizens getting it on and you want to blog about it, there's no better time than now as opposed to saving it for the Thursday news/politics spot.

But one thing I neglected this week was my film/music blog. So here goes...something I should have done a long time ago...

My favorite thing about Netflix is getting the opportunity to see movies that I know I should see. Something told me that The Color Purple was a movie I had to see. Honestly, I had no idea what it was about. For some reason I thought it had either Janet Jackson or Oprah in it (It did indeed have Oprah in the movie, Janet Jackson was in Poetic Justice, which at some point I confused with Dead Poet's Society). After rising slowly to the top of my queue and eventually reaching my mailbox (to the chagrin of my roommate who's more interested in picks like Entourage), it was showtime.

The Color Purple is about two black sisters, Celie and Nettie, who grow up in the South under difficult circumstances. Celie looks after her sister as best she can, and when an older man comes calling for Nettie's hand in marriage, the girl's father (who rapes her often and fathers a child with her) palms off Celie instead. Celie begins her difficult life with Albert and his kids where she is regularly beaten and terrorized. She's expected to clean, cook and even shave her husband. It is a miserable life, and Celie is completely subservient to her husband.

Her one joy comes from her relationship with her sister, who eventually comes to stay with Albert and Celie. Albert, still feeling the urge to bed Nettie, follows her to school one day and attempts to rape her. Nettie refuses and she is driven from his home. Though she promises to write, Albert forbids Celie to even touch the mail and for several years effectively imprisons her in her empty, loveless life.

Celie is portrayed by Whoopi Goldberg, and I have to admit, I have never seen such fine acting as this from Whoopi before. The whole movie you watch the tragic life of Celie and you just wish she could find the strength and confidence other characters, like Sofia, portrayed by Oprah Winfrey, find in their relationships with men. Celie initially finds this defiance toward men as wrong, and tells Sofia's husband, her stepson Harpo, to beat Sofia. Eventually, though, Celie sees in Sofia the woman she needs to be.

I don't want to say too much about the movie because it is truly a great film. It was released in 1985, so a few people might not be inclined to give it a chance. It's really worth it. I may have mentioned that A Very Long Engagement is the only film that has made me cry. That's not true anymore, the ending of The Color Purple brought tears to my eyes, it was absolutely beautiful.

Please check it out. I wish I could say more, it's just been a few months since I've seen it so the scenes aren't fresh in my mind.

And check back this Wednesday (hopefully). I just watched a great horror movie and I'm aching to write something about it. You might have heard of it...Jesus Camp.

Posted by Nick at 01:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A hallowed (imitation) piece of film history has been stolen!

Maltese Falcon stolen from San Francisco restaurant
By Michael Kahn
Reuters

SAN FRANCISCO – Where's Sam Spade when you need him?

Thieves have stolen a copy of the bird statue at the heart of “The Maltese Falcon” from the San Francisco restaurant used as a setting for the 1941 film classic starring Humphrey Bogart as the rough-and-tumble private detective.

The small, black figure was swiped over the weekend along with 20 vintage books, including copies of the 1930 Dashiell Hammett novel on which the film is based.

John Konstin, whose restaurant John's Grill bills itself as the “Home of the Maltese Falcon,” said the thief broke into the case displaying the statue over the weekend. Konstin is offering a $25,000 reward for the replica's return.

I'm sorry, but if you saw the movie, they know it's a fake don't they? I mean, it was said the jewel-encrusted falcon was a decoy — a trick to throw off the men who sought the valuable real falcon. The story is even more funny because this particular (knockoff) falcon is a decoy of a decoy.

This restaurant, John's Grill, is supposed to be the hang-out of Sam Spade in the novel The Maltese Falcon. Whoever stole the bird should return it. There's gotta be some Sam Spade curse on it or something, and that's not the stuff dreams are made of...

Posted by Nick at 06:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Apologies for being a little short with the film picks. I can't believe the last Netflix film I highlighted was Un long dimanche de fiançailles, and I had already seen it. I think this week I'll be doing something on All About Eve, the excellent celluloid precursor to the Showgirls.

For now, enjoy this YouTube clip of a scene from Beetlejuice, which had me and my coworkers laughing. I don't know how that movie popped in my head, but you've got to love Tim Burton. Enjoy:

P.S.: For anyone picking this entry up via facebook, you should know the only way you are going to see any YouTube applet is if you go to the original entry on my blog at http://endlessone.com/blog.

Posted by Nick at 01:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Lately I have been sort of burned out on Netflix. Instead of hastily watching a movie when I come home and hurriedly taking it to the mailbox the next day, I sort of carelessly hold onto my movies and return them whenever I feel up to it. I suppose that's the way it should be, but to at least liven up my desire to watch engaging film, I have been putting some of my most favorite movies on my queue — movies I sadly do not own, at least not now.

Today I watched Un long dimanche de fiançailles, A French film from one of my most favorite directors, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, who also directed possibly my most favorite film, Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain. Unlike Amélie, Un long dimanche de fiançailles (Or A Very Long Engagement as it is known to American audiences) is much more somber and serious. It is set in France following World War I.

The movie begins following the war, in which Mathilde holds hopelessly onto her belief that her fiancé, Manech, somehow survived his death sentence for self-mutilation, though he has not returned home for almost three years. Mathilde hires a private detective and enlists her family and friends to find out all they can about the circumstances of Manech's death outside of the trench curiously named Bingo Crépuscule.

Manech, having been shot in the hand, is accused of self-mutilation in hopes to return home to Mathilde. Along with four other men who have committed similar acts, Manech and the others are sent over the trench to fend for themselves in no man's land, effectively ensuring their demise. They survive longer than most but according to military reports, they were all found dead. However, Mathilde uncovers stories that seem to suggest a man wearing German boots made it out with another wounded soldier. She holds onto the very slim hope that her Manech is that hurt man.

The movie is very difficult to understand, even with subtitles. I watched it for the first time a year ago when I was living with my mother and grandmother in Ohio. I could hardly understand how the story weaved through the tales of the five men sent into no man's land, but I followed pretty well this time around. It's important to pay close attention to the details of the men's lives and most especially their names. It's always more difficult for me to remember a French name than a traditional American one, so that's probably why I have more trouble.

I won't say much more about the film. All I can say is that no other film I have ever watched has made me cry, except this one. Even a year later, knowing the conclusion of the film, I can't help but cry. It's exhilarating to watch a film that has such an effect on me. I hope that someone else somewhere might feel the same way.

As far as the France stuff, I swear it will be done soon. I just got my photos off of my phone so I should be putting everything together soon. The entries are done I just need to edit them. Blah blah...plus I have a lot of cleaning to do today, so I better get to work. It's sure to be the next thing I post.

Posted by Nick at 12:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I just got through watching an excellent film noir. It's always a great feeling I get when I've just finished a good movie. It's like the time I finished Casablanca, Rear Window and Vertigo — all for the first time. The film was thoroughly entertaining. I only hope my next film noir is as good as this one.

For my first film noir minus the patronage of my favorite actor, Humphrey Bogart, I opted for Double Indemnity — released just last week on DVD for the first time. In fact, the movie has been sitting at the bottom of my queue for months. I added it shortly after watching The Big Sleep for the second time, when I got that craving for a new film noir. I thought maybe they lost all the DVDs or something, but thankfully it made it to my house today and I couldn't want to take the DVD for a spin.

In case you didn't know, double indemnity is an instance where an insurance company will pay double in case of accidental death. Knowing this, you can surmise that Double Indemnity involves just about the sexiest subject in Hollywood: insurance fraud. Oh boy, it does, and you can bet your whole claim that it's sexy. The film stars Fred MacMurray as the lusty insurance salesman Walter Neff, who is struck by femme fatale Phyllis Dietrichson (beautifully played by the sexy Barbara Stanwyck).

The story is very dark, obviously. Phyllis is unhappy with her husband, Mr. Dietrichson, and Neff sees a chance to score the dame and a cash payout. By pawning off an accident policy on Mr. Dietrichson before he takes a trip to Palo Alto traveling by train (an instance in which accidental death results in double indemnity), Phyllis and Neff set him up for murder. But, as you can imagine, no murder is perfect.

Neff soon finds his murder plot unraveling as his boss, Barton Keyes (played by the film legend Edward G. Robinson), quickly smells a fink. Uncovering inconsistencies that seemed so trivial to Walter before the plot, Keyes soon has a noose around Phyllis' neck and the neck of some other guy, an accomplice Keyes knows is involved. The pressure is on for Neff, who realizes all too soon how rotten he's become, even though Phyllis was always a step ahead.

It's a fabulous film and anyone who is up for a saucy jaunt through the mind of a seedy insurance salesman, look no further than Double Indemnity. It's enough to make you look twice before signing that policy with your significant other's pen.

Phyllis: We're both rotten.
Walter Neff: Only you're a little more rotten.

Posted by Nick at 10:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Apologies for taking so long to write. I've been a very busy bee as far as running, last week I made it to 5 days. I took a nap today though, so maybe I will make it up with a Saturday run — we'll see. Even though my next marathon is over half a year away, I want to be in shape and prepared to start training...but more on that later.

Though I wish I could have seen it before I took on my own grueling 16-hour hike in the high Sierra, I watched High Sierra last week, a film noir staring none other than Humphrey Bogart. The movie was suggest to be my Jim Houck, our newspaper's city editor, but I had had my eye on it in the weeks leading to the Whitney hike. I didn't know much about it besides its suspenseful car chase up to Whitney portal, but any Bogie movie is worth checking out, I would venture to say.

The movie begins with Roy Earle, infamous crook and recently pardoned prisoner, being tapped for a big score. He agrees, drives across the country to sunny California (a trek I can identify with) and stops at Whitney Portal to meet with his associates. There, he meets the two men who will be working for him and also a young runaway Marie (Ida Lupino), a wide-eyed, wicked little woman who is smitten with Roy at the get go.

While casing the illustrious California resort they plan to swindle, Roy aids a family he had met earlier, along with their crippled daughter, Velma (Joan Leslie). Roy falls in love with Velma, and though she is in love with another man, Roy insists on financing the surgery that will grant her the freedom to walk and lead a normal life. After the procedure, Roy offers a sincere proposal to Velma, who soundly strikes it down, breaking his heart. Hurt, Roy returns to Marie and the boys to prepare for the job at hand.

Suffice to say, things do not go according to plan with the heist and soon the cops are onto Earle and Marie. While waiting for their cut from the score, Roy takes one last look at Velma following her recovery. She is engaged and sublimely happy, drunk and dismissive of Roy's lingering feelings, who leaves in a huff. Marie, loyal to Roy and curious of the other woman, provides comfort to Roy and intends to stick with him to the bitter end.

The movie is pretty dark, which I really liked. The way Earle gravitates toward Velma but soon finds himself fixed on Marie doesn't resound of that typical Hollywood romantic nonsense, which is probably what I enjoyed most about the film. Also, while planning the heist at Whitney Portal, Roy takes on an orphaned dog (Bogart's real-life pet at the time) which is said to be cursed, having its two previous owners die. The dog is fiercely loyal to Roy and offers a bit of levity to the film noir.

It's worth checking out, but I do make one suggestion: Don't watch it while throwing back shots of Malibu while entertaining a friend. Bogart is worth more than that.

Posted by Nick at 10:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Jesse: I've been to marriage counseling. I've done things I never thought I would have do: Lit candles, bought self help books, lingerie...
Celine: Did the candles help?
Jesse: Hell no.

A few months ago I watched Before Sunrise at the suggestion of my cousin Laura. I suppose I didn't have the blog at the time (maybe, I could have just been too lazy to write about it), but it was a good movie. I watch so movies so often now, a lot of times, when I sit down to watch one I don't give it the attention it deserves. Maybe I neglected Before Sunrise, but I know I liked it. Fortunately, I did not neglect Before Sunset. This one stuck.

It's so funny that I actually like an Ethan Hawke movie. I can't stand the guy. I honestly couldn't stand the first half of Before Sunrise for the sole reason that Ethan Hawke was parading on screen like a horny American college student. Hideous...but I got past it. His chemistry with Julie Delpy is great. They have such an endearing, consuming quality about them and you can't help but wish they were make it past sunrise.

Though the first movie ends with you wanting more, you get the payoff in Before Sunset, 9 years after Jesse and Celine's first encounter in Vienna. Hitting Paris as the last city in his European book tour, Jesse is just wrapping up a book signing and Q&A session when Celine drops by. This monumental occasion — seeing the woman that made the most memorable impact in his romantic life — is fumbled by the two of them. You expect the music to crescendo and the scene to be framed by the setting sun, but they handle the situation as anyone would. It's natural and the whole movie progresses as so.

Jesse has to go to the airport in an hour, and a quick coffee with Celine turns into a swift afternoon stroll through Paris. The two take a walk through a park, a boat ride down the Seine and engage in a tumultuous conversation on the ride back to her apartment and their final curtain call.

Jesse is married and Celine is involved, but neither is happy. The movie begins with the two happy to conceal these facts but as they eventually see how much they regret not seizing upon their moment 9 years earlier, the two break down so beautifully. It's a romantic, touching film.

I like it so much because I'm so jealous. My friend Nicole went to France and fell in love. I wish I could do something so romantic! I get to go to Paris in about a month to see Nicole, so I'll be on the lookout for horny French romantics, but I imagine the language barrier might be a problem. At least I have this movie to quench my thirst for good romance.

Celine: Baby, you are going to miss your plane.
Jesse: I know.

Posted by Nick at 10:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

When I first saw Marilyn Monroe on screen, I was watching Some Like it Hot in my Shakespeare in Film class during my senior year of college. We all have our preconceptions of Marilyn. She's a tramp. She's a hussie. She died far too soon. Nothing you think about her, though, holds a candle to who she actually is — or was. But what do I know. I never knew her.

All I have are movies, and when I first saw Sugar Kane jump aboard the all-girl-band's train to Florida, it was almost like seeing a goddess. Marilyn Monroe, on screen, is so poised, beautiful and innocent. She's not a hussie or a tramp, she's just an actress, and a very good one. Watching her belt out "I'm Through with Love" in one of the last scenes of Some Like it Hot was truly memorable.

I've only since seen her bit part in All About Eve (another excellent film with the immaculate Bette Davis). The quench my thirst for Marilyn, I had Netflix send me The Seven Year Itch, a memorable comedy staring Marilyn and Tom Ewell. Ewell plays Richard Sherman, a middle-aged New York businessman who has just sent his wife and son to Maine to weather the brutal summer months away from the big city. Ewell's crazy imagination gets the better of him when his neighbors above him sublet their apartment to a strikingly beautiful young woman with a very striking resemblance to actress Marilyn Monroe (Monroe is actually referenced in the film, but we never learn the girl's actual name — she could very well be playing herself).

Richard wrestles with his desire to scratch his seven year itch and sweep the girl into his arms in spite of his dutiful wife (who he imagines is probably off on a flirtatious hay ride with Tom MacKenzie, a strapping young writer). Monroe plays innocent, professing her love for champagne and potato chips and eventually falling a little for Richard.

The movie is very cute, all because of Marilyn. She captures every scene she's in. Ewell is very charming as Richard, so much so, he came back to play the part the most of any part he played all his life (on Broadway after the film was released). The movie contains Monroe's most memorable scene — standing above a subway vent with her skirt being blown up.

Why don't they make women like Marilyn Monroe anymore? Furthermore, why don't they make actresses like her either? When's the last time you saw a movie and just fell in love with an actress, not just for her portrayal, but because you could sense a bit of the existential struggle she silently endured. I guess Hollywood just doesn't do that to them anymore. Something that got lost in the wash of million-dollar salaries.

Well, at least we can look back. I feel like seeing Some Like it Hot again, but perhaps Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. We'll see.

If you haven't seen Marilyn, if you are just unaware, you need to see her. You'll be glad you did.

Marilyn Monroe: "I think it's wonderful that you're married! I think it's just delicate."
Richard: "You do?"
Marilyn Monroe: "Of course. I mean I wouldn't be lying on the floor in the middle of the night in some man's apartment drinking Champagne if he wasn't married."
Richard: "That's a very interesting line of reasoning..."
Marilyn Monroe: "Sure, with a married man, it's all so simple. I mean, it can't possibly ever get drastic..."

Posted by Nick at 07:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I told myself when I was watching Capote that I probably wasn't going to write about it. For some reason, writing about a near-recent film wasn't as exciting as going on about films that have been out for decades or films that no one has ever heard of. We all know Philip Seymour Hoffman won the Oscar for Best Actor this year, but has anyone really seen Capote? Do you even know what it's about?

I do. At least I do now. Before watching this movie, I had know idea who Truman Capote was, and I know that's sad. Certainly any graduate with an English degree has heard of In Cold Blood, right? Well, not this little Bachelor.

Despite my ignorance, it didn't take me long to catch on. Capote, hot off the success of his book Breakfast at Tiffany's, picks up a copy of the New York Times to read about the grisly murder of a family of four living in Holcomb, Kansas. Taking off for a writing assignment for the New Yorker, Capote enlists the help of fellow writer Harper Lee, then soon-to-be Pulitzer Prize winner for the book To Kill a Mockingbird, and travels down to Kansas to get to the heart of the story.

Capote initially has some trouble getting the local authorities and residents to respect him and speak to him. Of course, he eventually makes his way into the story and almost by accident befriends on of the suspects in the murder, Perry Smith.

This movie reminded me a lot about what I enjoyed Downfall so much. I've been recently fascinated with villains. The downfall of Hitler, the mental state of cold-blooded killers — both films really gave me a lot to think about. Working at a newspaper, I often find myself on the right side of things passing "judgment" on those who break the law. Really, that's not what I do at the paper, anyone is innocent before proven guilty, but by even mentioning that someone is "accused" of murder is tantamount to condemnation, often times. Sometimes I wonder if what makes people commit such horrible acts is really a fundamental state of evil or if it is just one person who was very, very lost.

There's a moment at the end of Capote when you get to see just what pushed Perry to commit such a horrible act. It was a profound and fascinating moment and it made me want to read the book.

Hoffman does an excellent job wrestling with his hunger for critical acclaim and success and his persistent desire to aid his friend Perry. Of course, before Capote can move on with his life and finish In Cold Blood, Perry must exhaust all of his appeals and hung for the crimes he and codefendent Richard Hickock committed.

It's a great film, and if you see it, I think you will find it more interesting than you thought.

Posted by Nick at 10:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I know I have been the sporadic blogger as of late. I have been working early shifts this week and trying to keep up with a very brutal work out/running schedule. I will try to keep up though!

This week I watched arguably Alfred Hitchcock's masterpiece film Vertigo. My recent descent into all things Hitchcock was inspired by my viewing of "Rear Window" several months ago that had me witness a different, more suspenseful side of Hitchcock than the wacky antics of Cary Grant in "North by Northwest." I thoroughly enjoyed "Rear Window," and I have recently also viewed "Dial M for Murder," which didn't turn out to be half bad either.

Vertigo was next on the list, and I thought I knew what I was getting. In the film, Detective John Ferguson (played brilliantly, of course, by James Stewart) suffers a traumatic event, strickening him with acrophobia and subjecting him with vertigo whenever he suffers an episode. I figured the story would jut off from there into a typical Hitchcock storyline. You know, maybe Stewart has to juggle his fear of heights and his desperate need to solve a case of murder and deceit, set in the sunny city of San Francisco. What I got, however, was a film that was so unlike Hitchcock — or so I thought.

Instead, shortly after suffering an accident on duty, which leaves a fellow officer dead, Ferguson retires from the force. At the behest of an old friend Gavin Ester, he is asked to trail Ester's disturbed wife Madeline, who Ester believes is possessed by her deceased ancestor, Carlotta Valdes, who killed herself after her husband ran off with her daughter. Presumably, all the women in Madeline's family line eventually go mad, cursed by the scorned Valdes.

The movie descends into this sordid plot and the circumstances of Ferguson's premature retirement drift further and further from the core of the thriller, which very quickly becomes a romance. As John and Madeline fall deeper and deeper in love and her madness broadens, bringing her to the brink of oblivion, the film reaching a gripping height followed by a surprising reversal, and all of a sudden you can't help but jump up and exclaim, "Now, this is a Hitchcock film!"

I can't possibly go on from there. All I can say is every Hitchcock film plays a role in this film. Romance, intrigue — murder! Vertigo has got it.

If you have no semblance of what the film Vertigo is, I suggest you come into this film as ignorant as I was. You will be rocked, I guarantee it. I don't know if it gets any better than this, I sure hope so. My next Hitchcock film is Lifeboat. We'll see how it goes.

Posted by Nick at 10:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

This week, I saw a movie called "Downfall," which is a film about the final days of the Third Reich during World War II. I added it to my movie queue a few months ago when I read that the movie had caused a stir when it was released. Hitler, who is often depicted as a brutal dictator and inhuman monster (rightly so) is somewhat humanized in the film, as the viewer almost feels sorry to watch the ailing man's empire fall to pieces. It was appropriate that I watched this film after another film I had been hotly anticipating. That movie was Sarah Silverman's "Jesus is Magic," a stand-up comedy film that pokes fun at the Holocaust and other touchy subjects. (And, in case you're wondering, I didn't find the film to be particularly good, or funny).

Anyways, "Downfall" was an excellent movie to watch. The movie mostly depicts the elite heads of Germany in their last days as the Red Army encircles Berlin. For any history buff, this would be a fabulous film, as many notable Nazi government officials are paraded throughout the film. I got so lost in the long list of characters, that it was only at the end of the film when names were provided with pictures that I was able to ascertain just who it was I was seeing half the whole time.

The one character you do follow easily throughout the film (besides Adolf Hitler) is Traudl Junge, one of Hitler's favorite secretaries and the primary source for most of the film. Shortly before Junge died in 2002, she wrote a detailed account of her experiences in the Führerbunker. Her book, Der Untergang, was released in 2004 and is the primary source of the film. She gives a brief introduction interview before the film begins and some final reflections at the end.

The movie begins with Junge being hired as Hitler's secretary in 1942, in the midst of the Second World War. The movie quickly jumps forward to April 20, 1945, — Hitler's birthday — as artillery fire is just hitting Berlin and military commanders scramble to halt the Russian's advance. The government building is quickly evacuated and arrangements are made for high-ranking officials to leave Berlin. Of course, Hitler stays, and Junge, unable to abandon her Führer, can so no reason to leave as well.

There are some well-recognized characters in the film. Magda Goebbels arrives with her children to cheer up Hitler and sing for him (And, in case you don't know your history, they all meet a very short end). Eva Braun shows up, determined to not let the fall of her nation get her down. One of the most haunting scenes of the movie is her insistence to go above ground and throw a party while the Russians are shelling the city (of course, driving the drunken revelers back below).

The movie just gets more and more depressing from there. It's one thing to see the dark consequences from war through the eyes of the victor, but what was it like to be German when your nation falls to the Allies? How would it feel like to see all the silent whispers of the "final solution" turn out to be horribly true, even beyond your greatest nightmares. That is the story you see though the eyes of Junge, and it is so compelling. I can't imagine hell being any different from the crumbling Berlin you see in director Oliver Hirschbiegel's film.

It's a must-see, you know, if you can get past the fact that you'll be seeing a film about Hitler and it's subtitled. But, if you're anything like me, you know the best films are probably not in English anyways.

Of course, the terrible things I heard from the Nuremberg Trials, about the 6 million Jews and the people from other races who were killed, were facts that shocked me deeply. But I wasn't able to see the connection with my own past. I was satisfied that I wasn't personally to blame and that I hadn't known about those things. I wasn't aware of the extent. But one day I went past the memorial plaque which had been put up for Sophie Scholl in Franz Josef Strasse, and I saw that she was born the same year as me, and she was executed the same year I started working for Hitler. And at that moment I actually sensed that it was no excuse to be young, and that it would have been possible to find things out — Traudl Junge

Posted by Nick at 04:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I guess you could say my love for Humphrey Bogart began with the film noir The Maltese Falcon, one of my favorite movies. I just love film noir. It's so dark and hopeless, it's hard to believe it came out of Hollywood at the same time they were producing The Wizard of Oz and Singing in the Rain.

Anyways, my experience with film noir is restricted to The Maltese Falcon and the film I'm blogging about today, The Big Sleep. I want to venture out, but the thought of leaving Bogie is kind of scary. I watched The Big Sleep a few years ago (on an excellent date, by the way) and I have to say I was not a fan. It's such a convoluted story with many twists and turns and even more plot holes. Like most older movies, you have to pay near perfect attention to understand the story (and the first time I saw it I have to admit my attention was elsewhere).

So when I got this movie the second time around, I was sure to eliminate all distractions. The story follows a set up very similar to The Maltese Falcon: Bogart is Philip Marlowe, a private dick that plays by his own rules. It's great to see Bogart in a cocky role like this, fending off the likes of Lauren Bacall and various other loose women.

That's the thing I love about old movies. The women are so beautiful and they are often legends in their own right, not like nowadays when any flakey teen star gets spotlighted. Bacall plays a conflicted Vivian Rutledge, out to protect her deranged sister and rout out the sly Marlowe. They've got such great chemistry on screen, it's no wonder they hooked up so well off the screen.

I have to say I enjoy The Maltese Falcon better. William Faulkner actually helped write the screenplay, which might explain why the plot is so complex. The Maltese Falcon is so much easier to understand and it's got action throughout. The Big Sleep sort of hits a climax when Marlowe busts Joe Brody for blackmail, but then it sort of meanders as you wonder what the real story is. It took a few years and a second viewing for me to finally get it, but it was a film I really enjoyed in the end.

I'm not sure what's next on my list of film noir. Ever since I got Netflix, I have been watching movies I have always wanted to see: Arsenic and Old Lace, Casablanca, All About Eve, Bringing Up Baby, Rear Window and Singing in the Rain, among others. My favorite classic Hollywood actors would have to be Bogie, of course, Cary Grant and Marilyn Monroe. I don't know what it is about Monroe, but when I saw her in Some Like it Hot, I was instantly in love. Also, I haven't seen a Hitchcock film I didn't love.

I'll be sure to share my thoughts on film as they appear to me. This week, I'm watching Metropolis, a silent film from 1927. We'll see how that goes. In the meantime, if you haven't seen a film noir, pick up The Maltese Falcon (or if you're willing, The Big Sleep) and let me know what you think.

"My, my, my! Such a lot of guns around town and so few brains! You know, you're the second guy I've met today that seems to think a gat in the hand means the world by the tail." ~ Humphrey Bogart as Philip Marlowe, The Big Sleep

Posted by Nick at 05:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)