The Street Fighter (1974)
seen @ Spectacle Theater, Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY
6.15.13
Quentin Tarantino used to work in a video store, and so he's become representative of video store geeks everywhere, and that's understandable. Over the course of his career as a movie director, the stories he's written, for himself and others, have been deeply influenced by the old movies he saw over and over again, movies that are (or were) far off the beaten path.
My seven-and-a-half-year tenure as a video store geek wasn't too different from that. I was deeply into current independent and foreign films during this period, the mid-90s to the early-00s, which was a great period for indy film in general. It led me to seek out other obscure films and recommend them to customers whenever possible.
That said, though, there was always somebody else, another co-worker or two, whose film knowledge ran much deeper and much more obscure. I'd feel proud recommending a film by a director the average customer had never heard of, like, say, Atom Egoyan or Jim Jarmusch, but meanwhile there's this other guy talking about Mario Bava giallo films or some rare Japanese bootleg he picked up in Chinatown.
It felt like a competition sometimes, I admit, especially during the first few years, when I didn't know anything at all and I had to play catch-up so I could justify my position. After awhile, though, I learned to accept that there would always be someone whose cinema skills outweighed my own.
So when I saw True Romance, a film Tarantino wrote, on video, I was curious about these Street Fighter films that Christian Slater's character talked about, but as well-stocked as my video store was, we didn't have those at the time. After awhile I forgot about it - until I saw the original one for the first time at the Spectacle, the tiny screening room in Williamsburg, last weekend. (They're showing the entire series throughout the summer.)
The ultra-violence from star Sonny Chiba wasn't too surprising; one tends to expect that sort of thing in martial arts movies from Asia. Even the "impact" moments, for lack of a better description, struck me as typical bizarro Japanese cinema (when Chiba hits one dude in the head there's a split-second moment where you see a negative image of both fist and head, like an X-ray).
Chiba's character is pretty brutal. He's much more of an anti-hero than Bruce Lee, not above taking liberties with the heroine just because he can, for example. Given that, the presence of a bumbling comic sidekick seems really surprising (one who's not all that funny either). But I suppose even a movie like this felt like it needed some kind of humorous outlet, unlike other action movies I could name (but let's not get into that again).
The audience seemed like they were pretty familiar with the movie, in particular one girl who tossed out the occasional quip. I didn't mind; this is clearly a pure-entertainment movie, not heavy drama. My surprise and delight at seeing an African-American actor speaking Japanese in this movie was slightly mitigated when he turns out to be a rapist. Chiba takes care of him, though, in a way that my uber-feminist friend Jenny would heartily approve of, I think... and that's all I'll say about that!
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Monday, June 17, 2013
Man of Steel
Man of Steel
seen @ UA Midway Stadium 9, Forest Hills, Queens, NY
6.14.13
The late-afternoon sun oppressively radiated over the gentrified neighborhood like an occupying army the day I went to see Man of Steel. The torrential downpours that blanketed the city this past week or so had ended, and I found myself strangely missing its absence, like a one-night-stand that slipped away in the early morning, taking the last hundred dollars out of your wallet and leaving you flaccid and unsatisfied and with an itchy feeling in your thighs.
As I walked up the traffic-clogged boulevard to the movie theater, I spied dirty, limpid pools of water in the gutters, slowly drying up like the hope from a prisoner of war... and I somehow had a feeling it was an omen of things to come.
Reid met me outside the theater. He was early. I should've known he would be. When it comes to seeing movies, he's gotta have his favorite spot.
The middle.
Always the middle.
I've seen him dropkick screaming kids out into the aisles for taking his favorite spot.
Me, I'm an aisle man. Always have been. He and I argue about where to sit but sometimes you've gotta make compromises. Of course, his idea of compromise tends to involve a two-by-four to the head...
We got our tickets and waited on line to get in and Reid started in on his video games again. You know the kind. The kind that have backstories longer than Gone With the Wind with controls resembling a space shuttle and that take eight hours just to complete one level. It's all he ever talks about. If he could mainline this stuff he probably would.
Me... all I ever needed was a joystick, a coupla buttons, and one... single... quarter.
And that'd be enough.
I don't understand what kind of world we live in when a man can't enjoy his Ms. Pac-Man when he wants to anymore.
Suddenly I realized that I needed my pill again. It had been days, but walking around in all this... fresh air and dry heat... reminded me that it was only a matter of time before the symptoms would start up again.
I had went to the usual place for my fix but they didn't have what I wanted. I had to settle for something else.
Something less.
It did the trick for a little while but it didn't last and I was a wreck before too long. Sweat trickled down my neck as I recalled the watery eyes, the runny nose, the rough scratchy feeling at the base of my throat like the scummiest back alley in the worst part of town.
Oh yes, I've been down that back alley before.
I know it well.
I know that desperate sensation like a motherless stray dog that's been kicked around one too many times. I know the fetid stench from the refuse collecting in garbage cans and plastic bags stretched to the limit, strewn along the cobblestone floor like the dying dreams of yesterday's glories, when I was young and nieve and still believed the world was a great place and worth fighting for.
Oh yes... I'm all too familiar with those backstreets that I call home every spring.
Damn, but I hate allergy season.
We made it into the auditorium and after the usual set of commercials came the trailers. There was one for Despicable Me 2 and another for some piece of crap called Turbo - animated kiddie movies.
Was this a joke?
Who did they think Man of Steel was for?
This is a Superman movie. No little kid is gonna want to see this action-adventure science-fiction spectacular about a grown man in long underwear and a cape who shoots lasers out of his eyes and punches out other grown men in the spleen amidst acres of mass destruction with the fate of the world at stake.
I mean, this is SERIOUS BUSINESS!
And yet, as fate, as cruel and harsh a mistress as any leather-clad dominatrix who advertises anonymously on Craig's List, would have it, there were a small number of children in the audience for this teenage-boy power fantasy epic brought to life by the director of Sucker Punch. Their cries and mumblings to indifferent, vodka'd parents trickled up and out into the auditorium like weeds from the sidewalks of an impoverished business district, abandoned due to a crumbling economy and white flight and left to the junkies and the whores.
The one behind Reid was getting his goat. I knew where this would lead. I'd experienced it before:
Times Square, August 2011.
Long Island City, December 2007.
Union Square, May 2006.
And countless other times. To say Reid has a low tolerance for rowdy kids during a movie is like saying Lindsay Lohan has a slight substance abuse problem. I think his lawyer is still appealing the decision from the last time this happened.
I was wrong this time, however. He was too dumbfounded by the movie to care too much about some attention-deficit brat.
Good thing too, because I accidentally left the taser at home.
Over dinner afterward we talked about the movie and I was shocked.
He actually didn't like it.
He thought the movie fell apart in the final third. He thought there were unexplained coincidences, unnecessary macguffins, and a ridiculously high death toll.
How could he fail to understand what all true fans know: that it's only through REALISTIC interpretations of Superman and other superheroes in film will the general public finally treat superhero movies as Legitimate Cinema? Christopher Nolan clearly understood this with his Dark Knight trilogy, and the critics and the public responded as one.
The world is an abattoir and we are the lambs lining up to the slaughter to appease the whims of decadent, degenerate gods of chaos. And though there are moments of joy, kindness, generosity, brotherhood, selflessness and love...
THERE IS NO PLACE FOR ANY OF THAT IN LEGITIMATE CINEMA.
Shit happens for no reason, and sometimes all you can do about it is brutally punch it into submission.
Just like in Man of Steel.
-----------------------
Related:
'Man of Steel' needs to escape Reeve's shadow
seen @ UA Midway Stadium 9, Forest Hills, Queens, NY
6.14.13
The late-afternoon sun oppressively radiated over the gentrified neighborhood like an occupying army the day I went to see Man of Steel. The torrential downpours that blanketed the city this past week or so had ended, and I found myself strangely missing its absence, like a one-night-stand that slipped away in the early morning, taking the last hundred dollars out of your wallet and leaving you flaccid and unsatisfied and with an itchy feeling in your thighs.
As I walked up the traffic-clogged boulevard to the movie theater, I spied dirty, limpid pools of water in the gutters, slowly drying up like the hope from a prisoner of war... and I somehow had a feeling it was an omen of things to come.
Reid met me outside the theater. He was early. I should've known he would be. When it comes to seeing movies, he's gotta have his favorite spot.
The middle.
Always the middle.
I've seen him dropkick screaming kids out into the aisles for taking his favorite spot.
Me, I'm an aisle man. Always have been. He and I argue about where to sit but sometimes you've gotta make compromises. Of course, his idea of compromise tends to involve a two-by-four to the head...
We got our tickets and waited on line to get in and Reid started in on his video games again. You know the kind. The kind that have backstories longer than Gone With the Wind with controls resembling a space shuttle and that take eight hours just to complete one level. It's all he ever talks about. If he could mainline this stuff he probably would.
Me... all I ever needed was a joystick, a coupla buttons, and one... single... quarter.
And that'd be enough.
I don't understand what kind of world we live in when a man can't enjoy his Ms. Pac-Man when he wants to anymore.
Suddenly I realized that I needed my pill again. It had been days, but walking around in all this... fresh air and dry heat... reminded me that it was only a matter of time before the symptoms would start up again.
I had went to the usual place for my fix but they didn't have what I wanted. I had to settle for something else.
Something less.
It did the trick for a little while but it didn't last and I was a wreck before too long. Sweat trickled down my neck as I recalled the watery eyes, the runny nose, the rough scratchy feeling at the base of my throat like the scummiest back alley in the worst part of town.
Oh yes, I've been down that back alley before.
I know it well.
I know that desperate sensation like a motherless stray dog that's been kicked around one too many times. I know the fetid stench from the refuse collecting in garbage cans and plastic bags stretched to the limit, strewn along the cobblestone floor like the dying dreams of yesterday's glories, when I was young and nieve and still believed the world was a great place and worth fighting for.
Oh yes... I'm all too familiar with those backstreets that I call home every spring.
Damn, but I hate allergy season.
We made it into the auditorium and after the usual set of commercials came the trailers. There was one for Despicable Me 2 and another for some piece of crap called Turbo - animated kiddie movies.
Was this a joke?
Who did they think Man of Steel was for?
This is a Superman movie. No little kid is gonna want to see this action-adventure science-fiction spectacular about a grown man in long underwear and a cape who shoots lasers out of his eyes and punches out other grown men in the spleen amidst acres of mass destruction with the fate of the world at stake.
I mean, this is SERIOUS BUSINESS!
And yet, as fate, as cruel and harsh a mistress as any leather-clad dominatrix who advertises anonymously on Craig's List, would have it, there were a small number of children in the audience for this teenage-boy power fantasy epic brought to life by the director of Sucker Punch. Their cries and mumblings to indifferent, vodka'd parents trickled up and out into the auditorium like weeds from the sidewalks of an impoverished business district, abandoned due to a crumbling economy and white flight and left to the junkies and the whores.
The one behind Reid was getting his goat. I knew where this would lead. I'd experienced it before:
Times Square, August 2011.
Long Island City, December 2007.
Union Square, May 2006.
And countless other times. To say Reid has a low tolerance for rowdy kids during a movie is like saying Lindsay Lohan has a slight substance abuse problem. I think his lawyer is still appealing the decision from the last time this happened.
I was wrong this time, however. He was too dumbfounded by the movie to care too much about some attention-deficit brat.
Good thing too, because I accidentally left the taser at home.
Over dinner afterward we talked about the movie and I was shocked.
He actually didn't like it.
He thought the movie fell apart in the final third. He thought there were unexplained coincidences, unnecessary macguffins, and a ridiculously high death toll.
How could he fail to understand what all true fans know: that it's only through REALISTIC interpretations of Superman and other superheroes in film will the general public finally treat superhero movies as Legitimate Cinema? Christopher Nolan clearly understood this with his Dark Knight trilogy, and the critics and the public responded as one.
The world is an abattoir and we are the lambs lining up to the slaughter to appease the whims of decadent, degenerate gods of chaos. And though there are moments of joy, kindness, generosity, brotherhood, selflessness and love...
THERE IS NO PLACE FOR ANY OF THAT IN LEGITIMATE CINEMA.
Shit happens for no reason, and sometimes all you can do about it is brutally punch it into submission.
Just like in Man of Steel.
-----------------------
Related:
'Man of Steel' needs to escape Reeve's shadow
Labels:
action-adventure,
audiences,
friends,
LOL,
science-fiction
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Could you accept Melissa McCarthy as a romantic lead?
...In her unassuming way, Ms. McCarthy has quickly earned a freedom to play a wider range of characters than her female peers, and to play them as hard, crude and over-the-top as her male counterparts. Her rising celebrity means she can have roles rewritten for her and movies green-lighted by signing onto them; it has also made her a target for some unexpected and shockingly personal criticism. But Ms. McCarthy isn’t looking to be a pioneer any more than she wishes to be a punching bag: What she wants from her comedy is the chance to play in a world without consequences.
“You push so far past the normal boundaries of what’s O.K. in society,” Ms. McCarthy said excitedly over a lunch in April, on a trip to New York to host “Saturday Night Live.” “I’m always fully aware of, ‘You can’t do this.’ ”I'm about to share a secret with you. Not many people are aware of this, so if this shocks you in any way, well, I apologize in advance, but I feel this is something that must be revealed to the world at large. I hope you're sitting down for this. Ready?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Fat people exist.
I should know, because I am one. Have been for many years. If I were to be perfectly honest about it, it's not always easy to live with. The fact that I'm also fairly tall tends to offset the fat part somewhat; I don't have a tremendous, Kevin James-type pot belly, but you would never mistake me for an average-sized dude. Regardless, I make no excuses for my condition; it is entirely of my own making. My bicycle is busted right now, so I don't bike as much as I used to, but when I lived in Columbus, I biked all the time. I do, however, walk as much as I can, as often as I can. Walking is the simplest form of exercise and I go through lots of shoes.
I'm still a guy, though. When strangers on the street call me "big man" or something similar, it's usually with a certain measure of respect (I hope, anyway). The jolly-fat-man image is still a prevalent one in our culture - kids still believe in Santa Claus, for instance. I just name-dropped Kevin James; no matter what you think of his movies, he's just the latest in a long line of fat-guy comics in Hollywood: Jack Black, Chris Farley, John Candy, John Belushi, etc., all the way back to Fatty Arbuckle. My point is that I may not always like my body image - and indeed, most of the time I tend to be camera-shy for this very reason - but it's very rare that I'm made to feel bad about it by society.
Unlike fat women.
Which brings us to Melissa McCarthy. I admit, I haven't seen any of her films or TV shows, but I have been following her recent rise in popularity with some interest. Later this month she's gonna appear in an action comedy with Sandra Bullock called The Heat, and if it gets good reviews, I might go see it. In an advance review of the movie, however, Alex made me aware of something that surprised me for a moment, but then didn't really surprise me upon reflection: apparently there are some posters for The Heat in which McCarthy has been airbrushed - BADLY - to appear skinnier.
In the New York Times article I quote from at the top, McCarthy makes it clear that the success of her Oscar-nominated role in Bridesmaids has led to more job offers and that she's able to rise above the haters and I think that's awesome. That said, if she's being typecast as the crazy fat lady, and if some people still are resistant to marketing her as she actually looks like, well, can you truly call this success?
I don't wanna get into a larger discussion of obesity in general and so-called "fat-shaming" in specific. What I wanna know is this: can we conceive of a time in the near future where we, the movie-going audience, can accept seeing McCarthy, or an actress like her, beyond the limited box we place them in as a result of their looks?
Personally, I think McCarthy is adorable, and would love to see her as the star in a Julia Roberts-like rom-com one day - preferably one where her weight isn't an issue - but I fear that we're still a long, long way away from that if she still has to worry about her image being airbrushed on movie posters. Hollywood is a business, and they're under no obligation to champion causes, so I understand that McCarthy has to find her niche however she can. If that means playing the crazy fat lady, well, so be it. I hope she plays it better than anyone who's come before or since.
Still, a movie like The Heat is somewhat different, and for that reason alone I hope it's a good movie, and that it does well.
Thoughts?
--------------------
Related:
Can a woman be sexy and "empowered" too?
Labels:
gender,
health,
movie stars
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Caged
Caged
seen on TV @ TCM
6.10.13
The only reason I wanted to see Caged was so I could fill a nagging gap in my personal film knowledge. The 1950 Best Actress Oscar race was an epic one. You had a silent film legend, Gloria Swanson, up for Sunset Boulevard, in a show-stopping, bravura performance that would be forever immortalized in film history (and also my all-time favorite film).
Then you had Bette Davis in an equally larger-than-life performance in All About Eve - but it's eclipsed somewhat by Anne Baxter in the same movie, and she's nominated as a co-lead. It's justifiable; she plays the Eve in the movie's title, after all, but Davis dominates the movie so much that it does seem wrong to relegate her to supporting. And then you had my girl, Judy Holliday, in Born Yesterday, a comedic role, but one based on the Broadway play that she starred in - and thanks to her turn in Adam's Rib, she was definitely a star on the rise.
I had never heard of Eleanor Parker, nor had I seen Caged, so for many years, she never loomed as largely in this race in my mind, so I had always thought of this as a four-woman race. So I was eager to finally see this movie last night, and I went into it knowing as little about it as possible, outside of TCM host Robert Osborne's introduction, of course. I didn't even know how old Parker was when she made the movie. I always pictured her as a matronly, middle-aged woman. Maybe it was because of the name "Eleanor." Made me think of Eleanor Roosevelt or something.
So Caged is a women-in-prison movie, though I knew enough not to expect anything along the lines of, say, Pam Grier in The Big Bird Cage. Parker's character is in stir for being talked into an armed robbery by her now-deceased newlywed husband, and as if that weren't bad enough, she's pregnant with his child too. The film follows her time in the big house and how it changes her, and of course, along the way we meet the expected colorful supporting cast of felons, administrators and the ever-present matron.
Parker definitely deserved her nomination. Her transformation from scared waif to hardened felon feels natural, given her circumstances. Yes, there are giggle-inducing moments of camp throughout the film (perhaps unavoidable, given the evolution of this sub-genre), but Parker carries this film the whole way through and even at the end, you still feel for her, knowing where her fate will take her. Look at these stills of Parker at a key turning point in the movie and you'll get an idea of the kind of turmoil her character goes through.
Now, the big question: did Parker deserve the Oscar? Tough question, given the competition. Holliday was the winner that season, and it's so difficult to compare comedy to drama. Then again, it's rare that the Academy even acknowledges comedic roles, much less anoints them as winners, so in that sense, Holliday triumphing over four dramatic roles is of great significance. There has long been a school of thought that says comedy is harder to pull off than drama because what constitutes humor is so much more subjective. Holliday made it look ridiculously easy, but don't forget that she perfected the role on Broadway. And her Adam's Rib co-star Katharine Hepburn, someone who knew a thing or two about good acting, was a huge fan of hers.
It's probably safe to imagine that Davis and Baxter split the vote. How would you choose between these two? In every scene they share in Eve, you can feel the tension radiating between the two of them as they verbally jab and parry and spar with each other, like two prizefighters going the full fifteen rounds. Davis is the legend, the one everyone remembers most, but in truth, her performance is incomplete without Baxter's.
And then there's Swanson. When it comes to picking a winner, Oscar usually loves a good story; in other words, the larger context behind a given nominee, and if I had been around back then, I probably would've picked Swanson for the win because hers was such a good story: the comeback of a silent film star in a film about thecomeback return of a silent film star, with metatextual overtones everywhere you look. Norma Desmond is one of those characters that transcends cinema and is part of pop culture at large. Even casual film fans have heard the line, "Alright, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up."
Could Parker have won? Well, let's see. Parker was the only nominee not in a Best Picture-nominated film, so that was a strike against her. You couldn't move Davis or Baxter into Supporting Actress, because both Celeste Holm and Thelma Ritter were also in the race, a sign of how deep the acting was in Eve (also including George Sanders, who won in Supporting Actor.) Plus, Caged ends on a down note, as does, to a lesser extent, Sunset and Eve. Ultimately, Holliday's was the only feel-good role, and that may have been the deciding factor. No, the Oscars don't always recognize true quality, but in the 1950 season at least, they went five-for-five in the Best Actress race.
seen on TV @ TCM
6.10.13
The only reason I wanted to see Caged was so I could fill a nagging gap in my personal film knowledge. The 1950 Best Actress Oscar race was an epic one. You had a silent film legend, Gloria Swanson, up for Sunset Boulevard, in a show-stopping, bravura performance that would be forever immortalized in film history (and also my all-time favorite film).
Then you had Bette Davis in an equally larger-than-life performance in All About Eve - but it's eclipsed somewhat by Anne Baxter in the same movie, and she's nominated as a co-lead. It's justifiable; she plays the Eve in the movie's title, after all, but Davis dominates the movie so much that it does seem wrong to relegate her to supporting. And then you had my girl, Judy Holliday, in Born Yesterday, a comedic role, but one based on the Broadway play that she starred in - and thanks to her turn in Adam's Rib, she was definitely a star on the rise.
I had never heard of Eleanor Parker, nor had I seen Caged, so for many years, she never loomed as largely in this race in my mind, so I had always thought of this as a four-woman race. So I was eager to finally see this movie last night, and I went into it knowing as little about it as possible, outside of TCM host Robert Osborne's introduction, of course. I didn't even know how old Parker was when she made the movie. I always pictured her as a matronly, middle-aged woman. Maybe it was because of the name "Eleanor." Made me think of Eleanor Roosevelt or something.
So Caged is a women-in-prison movie, though I knew enough not to expect anything along the lines of, say, Pam Grier in The Big Bird Cage. Parker's character is in stir for being talked into an armed robbery by her now-deceased newlywed husband, and as if that weren't bad enough, she's pregnant with his child too. The film follows her time in the big house and how it changes her, and of course, along the way we meet the expected colorful supporting cast of felons, administrators and the ever-present matron.
Parker definitely deserved her nomination. Her transformation from scared waif to hardened felon feels natural, given her circumstances. Yes, there are giggle-inducing moments of camp throughout the film (perhaps unavoidable, given the evolution of this sub-genre), but Parker carries this film the whole way through and even at the end, you still feel for her, knowing where her fate will take her. Look at these stills of Parker at a key turning point in the movie and you'll get an idea of the kind of turmoil her character goes through.
Now, the big question: did Parker deserve the Oscar? Tough question, given the competition. Holliday was the winner that season, and it's so difficult to compare comedy to drama. Then again, it's rare that the Academy even acknowledges comedic roles, much less anoints them as winners, so in that sense, Holliday triumphing over four dramatic roles is of great significance. There has long been a school of thought that says comedy is harder to pull off than drama because what constitutes humor is so much more subjective. Holliday made it look ridiculously easy, but don't forget that she perfected the role on Broadway. And her Adam's Rib co-star Katharine Hepburn, someone who knew a thing or two about good acting, was a huge fan of hers.
It's probably safe to imagine that Davis and Baxter split the vote. How would you choose between these two? In every scene they share in Eve, you can feel the tension radiating between the two of them as they verbally jab and parry and spar with each other, like two prizefighters going the full fifteen rounds. Davis is the legend, the one everyone remembers most, but in truth, her performance is incomplete without Baxter's.
And then there's Swanson. When it comes to picking a winner, Oscar usually loves a good story; in other words, the larger context behind a given nominee, and if I had been around back then, I probably would've picked Swanson for the win because hers was such a good story: the comeback of a silent film star in a film about the
Could Parker have won? Well, let's see. Parker was the only nominee not in a Best Picture-nominated film, so that was a strike against her. You couldn't move Davis or Baxter into Supporting Actress, because both Celeste Holm and Thelma Ritter were also in the race, a sign of how deep the acting was in Eve (also including George Sanders, who won in Supporting Actor.) Plus, Caged ends on a down note, as does, to a lesser extent, Sunset and Eve. Ultimately, Holliday's was the only feel-good role, and that may have been the deciding factor. No, the Oscars don't always recognize true quality, but in the 1950 season at least, they went five-for-five in the Best Actress race.
Labels:
acting,
classic cinema,
drama,
movie stars,
Oscars
Monday, June 10, 2013
20 Million Miles to Earth/Jason and the Argonauts
20 Million Miles to Earth
Jason and the Argonauts
seen @ Landmark Loews Jersey Theater, Jersey City, NJ
6.8.13
I've written before about the special effects wizard Ray Harryhausen, who died last month at the age of 92. In watching two films last weekend that he worked on, 20 Million Miles to Earth and Jason and the Argonauts, I was once again made aware of the difference between seeing movies like these on television, which I did growing up, and seeing them on a big screen.
Stop-motion animation existed before Harryhausen, of course, but he raised it to a new level, and I'm now convinced that you can't truly appreciate it unless you see his work on the big screen, the way audiences of the 50s and 60s saw them. I had actually seen 20M this way once before, when I was living in Columbus. It was a smaller screen at an outdoor venue, though - bigger than a television, but smaller than the screen at the Loews Jersey, which is, of course, an old-fashioned movie palace and designed differently.
Speaking at the double feature last weekend was a film journalist who had written about Harryhausen in the past, and one of the things he talked about was how Harryhausen's creatures had a life and a character unique to movie monsters that stood in sharp contrast to the traditional man in a rubber suit, something Harryhausen hated. You can see that in 20M in the way the Venusian creature reacts to his unusual surroundings here on Earth - how he walks, how he looks around at things.
The journalist guy also said that Harryhausen believed his monsters should exist at a slight remove from reality; as much as he respected and admired the advances in computer-generated effects, he didn't believe in making them too realistic. I can respect that. On Sunday, I was watching, of all things, Peter Jackson's King Kong on TV - Jackson, of course, being one of many current genre filmmakers who idolize Harryhausen.
As convinced as I was of the reality of the various CGI creatures in that movie, there remains something about stop-motion that's slightly unsettling to watch, and I suspect it has to do with this slight disconnect. Armies of CGI technicians go to great lengths to convince you of the high-tech nature of Iron Man's armor, or the reality-warping magic of Harry Potter, but because Harryhausen's monsters fall short of photo-realism, that difference makes it unsettling. It's the so-called "uncanny valley" effect.
Harryhausen is gone now, but it's great to know that he lived long enough to know how well-appreciated his work was and is by those that came after him, not to mention legions of moviegoers. These days the only time you ever see stop-motion in film is if the whole thing is done that way, like The Nightmare Before Christmas or Coraline. Movies like those are remarkable too, no doubt, but one wonders if modern audiences would accept stop-motion in place of CGI in a genre movie. I'm sure there must be some films like that within the last twenty years or so; I just can't think of any right now, which makes me think they're probably not as big as even the worst genre movies with CGI.
In close to three years of doing this, I've made quite a few friends out of my fellow film bloggers, but it wasn't until last Saturday that I finally met a few in person. It seems like most of the friends I make these days are online, living in different parts of the country and even a few outside the country. (This was also true back when I had my comics blog.) Any opportunity to meet someone you only know through the Internet is bound to make you a little nervous, and that was the case with me, I admit, but it didn't take me long to fit in, and for that I'm grateful.
I had taken part in Aurora's last blogathon, the 31 Days of Oscar one (and I'm doing the same for her current one), so I had already interacted with her. I saw that she was going to the Loews on Twitter last week and proposed that we meet up there, and she agreed. We almost completely missed each other, even though we were both in the lobby, Tweeting our locations back and forth, but once we figured out who we were, we greeted each other and made our way to the auditorium, where I joined her party. She was there with a friend whose name, unfortunately, escapes me. She was a classic film novice, and Aurora was in the process of educating her on the old stuff. Her friend seemed receptive, and she even expressed a fondness for Hitchcock.
Will and Joe came a little bit later. I was less familiar with these guys, but it was clear that they knew their stuff too. We all had a conversation outside the Loews after the double feature in which we talked about some of the things I had mentioned above. We even had our picture taken! If you go to my WSW Facebook page, you can see it.
It was a great night overall. There was a big crowd of people for both shows, and I suspect it was as much for the films themselves as it was the fact that it was the last screening of the season until next fall. Once again there was an art display of local high school kids, but this time I was too busy trying to find Aurora to pay it much attention. I was pleased to see a fair amount of kids as well. One of them sat behind Will and me with his dad; during 20M he seemed unimpressed with the stop-motion effects at first, but at one point, in a scene where a bunch of horses are threatened by Venusian creature, the kid said something like "Is the horse gonna die?" to his dad, and that's when it was clear he was hooked. And another Harryhausen fan is born.
Jason and the Argonauts
seen @ Landmark Loews Jersey Theater, Jersey City, NJ
6.8.13
I've written before about the special effects wizard Ray Harryhausen, who died last month at the age of 92. In watching two films last weekend that he worked on, 20 Million Miles to Earth and Jason and the Argonauts, I was once again made aware of the difference between seeing movies like these on television, which I did growing up, and seeing them on a big screen.
Stop-motion animation existed before Harryhausen, of course, but he raised it to a new level, and I'm now convinced that you can't truly appreciate it unless you see his work on the big screen, the way audiences of the 50s and 60s saw them. I had actually seen 20M this way once before, when I was living in Columbus. It was a smaller screen at an outdoor venue, though - bigger than a television, but smaller than the screen at the Loews Jersey, which is, of course, an old-fashioned movie palace and designed differently.
Speaking at the double feature last weekend was a film journalist who had written about Harryhausen in the past, and one of the things he talked about was how Harryhausen's creatures had a life and a character unique to movie monsters that stood in sharp contrast to the traditional man in a rubber suit, something Harryhausen hated. You can see that in 20M in the way the Venusian creature reacts to his unusual surroundings here on Earth - how he walks, how he looks around at things.
The journalist guy also said that Harryhausen believed his monsters should exist at a slight remove from reality; as much as he respected and admired the advances in computer-generated effects, he didn't believe in making them too realistic. I can respect that. On Sunday, I was watching, of all things, Peter Jackson's King Kong on TV - Jackson, of course, being one of many current genre filmmakers who idolize Harryhausen.
As convinced as I was of the reality of the various CGI creatures in that movie, there remains something about stop-motion that's slightly unsettling to watch, and I suspect it has to do with this slight disconnect. Armies of CGI technicians go to great lengths to convince you of the high-tech nature of Iron Man's armor, or the reality-warping magic of Harry Potter, but because Harryhausen's monsters fall short of photo-realism, that difference makes it unsettling. It's the so-called "uncanny valley" effect.
Harryhausen is gone now, but it's great to know that he lived long enough to know how well-appreciated his work was and is by those that came after him, not to mention legions of moviegoers. These days the only time you ever see stop-motion in film is if the whole thing is done that way, like The Nightmare Before Christmas or Coraline. Movies like those are remarkable too, no doubt, but one wonders if modern audiences would accept stop-motion in place of CGI in a genre movie. I'm sure there must be some films like that within the last twenty years or so; I just can't think of any right now, which makes me think they're probably not as big as even the worst genre movies with CGI.
In close to three years of doing this, I've made quite a few friends out of my fellow film bloggers, but it wasn't until last Saturday that I finally met a few in person. It seems like most of the friends I make these days are online, living in different parts of the country and even a few outside the country. (This was also true back when I had my comics blog.) Any opportunity to meet someone you only know through the Internet is bound to make you a little nervous, and that was the case with me, I admit, but it didn't take me long to fit in, and for that I'm grateful.
I had taken part in Aurora's last blogathon, the 31 Days of Oscar one (and I'm doing the same for her current one), so I had already interacted with her. I saw that she was going to the Loews on Twitter last week and proposed that we meet up there, and she agreed. We almost completely missed each other, even though we were both in the lobby, Tweeting our locations back and forth, but once we figured out who we were, we greeted each other and made our way to the auditorium, where I joined her party. She was there with a friend whose name, unfortunately, escapes me. She was a classic film novice, and Aurora was in the process of educating her on the old stuff. Her friend seemed receptive, and she even expressed a fondness for Hitchcock.
Will and Joe came a little bit later. I was less familiar with these guys, but it was clear that they knew their stuff too. We all had a conversation outside the Loews after the double feature in which we talked about some of the things I had mentioned above. We even had our picture taken! If you go to my WSW Facebook page, you can see it.
It was a great night overall. There was a big crowd of people for both shows, and I suspect it was as much for the films themselves as it was the fact that it was the last screening of the season until next fall. Once again there was an art display of local high school kids, but this time I was too busy trying to find Aurora to pay it much attention. I was pleased to see a fair amount of kids as well. One of them sat behind Will and me with his dad; during 20M he seemed unimpressed with the stop-motion effects at first, but at one point, in a scene where a bunch of horses are threatened by Venusian creature, the kid said something like "Is the horse gonna die?" to his dad, and that's when it was clear he was hooked. And another Harryhausen fan is born.
Friday, June 7, 2013
Godzilla (1956)
Godzilla: King of the Monsters
seen on TV @ TCM
6.6.13
I would imagine the first time I had ever seen a Godzilla movie was on TV around Thanksgiving, back when local television would show old movies on special occasions. There was a Godzilla Saturday morning cartoon (but the less said about that, the better), not to mention a Godzilla comic book (though I don't recall reading it much), but it was the movies that made an impression on me. I never became a huge fan, but I always watched those movies whenever they'd come on TV.
In hindsight, I should've known better about seeing Roland Emmerich's remake, but I got caught up in all the hype around it - and the hype was tremendous - to the point where I went to a Tuesday night advance screening (it went wide on a Wednesday, if I recall correctly). It tried to combine elements of the Japanese original, Gojira, as well as the American cut, but in the end, there was too much stupid in the screenplay to overcome.
Of course, looking at the American cut last night for the first time in a long time, I realize it has more than enough stupid on its own! At first, I was interested in seeing how the original Gojira was integrated into this version - for example, showing certain Japanese characters talking to Raymond Burr in English, but with their backs to the camera so you can't tell these aren't the original actors! I have to wonder if American audiences back then were aware of cheats like this - or if they cared.
I mean, the movie doesn't try to hide its origins. If Gojira had been made today, Hollywood would just remake it completely (which they did), instead of making this patchwork version which tries to integrate Burr's character into the story. Did audiences of the day care about the bad dubbing? Burr's intrusive expositional voice-over? Burr's stone-faced visage in general? Or perhaps it was considered "camp" even back then? (Unlikely.)
But let's give Godzilla '56 the benefit of the doubt for a moment and imagine this technique being applied today. Let's say someone like, I dunno, Liev Schreiber or Aaron Eckhart or someone similarly square-jawed in the Burr role and footage from a modern version of Gojira would be integrated into an American cut with new footage. CGI, of course, would make it easy to insert our star directly into the Japanese version. Would it be more successful than Emmerich's remake? (Questions of quality aside, of course. It's not like this is The Dark Knight or anything.)
I suspect the answer is no, for one simple reason: modern audiences are more demanding. Thanks to the geek revolution, they're savvier and more up on modern filmmaking techniques. Plus, the globalization of popular culture means they'd probably be aware of the Japanese original and would bitch and moan over any attempt to "corrupt" it. Look at the furor over George Lucas' tweaking of Episodes 4-6 of the Star Wars saga, for example. And I suspect this is also why American audiences in 1956 probably didn't care much about the changes to Gojira. They weren't geeky enough.
As for me, I can easily appreciate the camp value of Japanese monster movies in general; after all, I grew up watching them badly dubbed and re-cut for American audiences. Plus, there's just something about Japanese culture in general. I mean, they make movies, cartoons and comics with the most outrageous, over-the-top imagery, sex and violence, together or separately, and in numerous combinations, yet it's presented with a high degree of... earnestness.
Like the scene in Gojira/Godzilla where all those legions of schoolgirls sing to lift everyone's spirits the day after Godzilla wipes out Tokyo. They've just seen their hometown destroyed by a giant lizard and have no doubt seen friends and family maimed and killed, but are they traumatized? Are they emotionally scarred? Hell no! Here they are, lined up in their perfectly neat and clean school uniforms, ready and eager to come to the aid of their country in its darkest hour! I mean, I dunno about you, but I don't remember any choir of schoolkids singing on TV the day after 9/11.
So here's hoping the Japanese never stop making "kaiju" movies, and that Hollywood keeps trying to remake them - so that we geeks will always have something new to complain about!
--------------------
Related:
Mothra
seen on TV @ TCM
6.6.13
I would imagine the first time I had ever seen a Godzilla movie was on TV around Thanksgiving, back when local television would show old movies on special occasions. There was a Godzilla Saturday morning cartoon (but the less said about that, the better), not to mention a Godzilla comic book (though I don't recall reading it much), but it was the movies that made an impression on me. I never became a huge fan, but I always watched those movies whenever they'd come on TV.
In hindsight, I should've known better about seeing Roland Emmerich's remake, but I got caught up in all the hype around it - and the hype was tremendous - to the point where I went to a Tuesday night advance screening (it went wide on a Wednesday, if I recall correctly). It tried to combine elements of the Japanese original, Gojira, as well as the American cut, but in the end, there was too much stupid in the screenplay to overcome.
Of course, looking at the American cut last night for the first time in a long time, I realize it has more than enough stupid on its own! At first, I was interested in seeing how the original Gojira was integrated into this version - for example, showing certain Japanese characters talking to Raymond Burr in English, but with their backs to the camera so you can't tell these aren't the original actors! I have to wonder if American audiences back then were aware of cheats like this - or if they cared.
I mean, the movie doesn't try to hide its origins. If Gojira had been made today, Hollywood would just remake it completely (which they did), instead of making this patchwork version which tries to integrate Burr's character into the story. Did audiences of the day care about the bad dubbing? Burr's intrusive expositional voice-over? Burr's stone-faced visage in general? Or perhaps it was considered "camp" even back then? (Unlikely.)
![]() |
| Burr was really devoted to that pipe, wasn't he? |
I suspect the answer is no, for one simple reason: modern audiences are more demanding. Thanks to the geek revolution, they're savvier and more up on modern filmmaking techniques. Plus, the globalization of popular culture means they'd probably be aware of the Japanese original and would bitch and moan over any attempt to "corrupt" it. Look at the furor over George Lucas' tweaking of Episodes 4-6 of the Star Wars saga, for example. And I suspect this is also why American audiences in 1956 probably didn't care much about the changes to Gojira. They weren't geeky enough.
As for me, I can easily appreciate the camp value of Japanese monster movies in general; after all, I grew up watching them badly dubbed and re-cut for American audiences. Plus, there's just something about Japanese culture in general. I mean, they make movies, cartoons and comics with the most outrageous, over-the-top imagery, sex and violence, together or separately, and in numerous combinations, yet it's presented with a high degree of... earnestness.
Like the scene in Gojira/Godzilla where all those legions of schoolgirls sing to lift everyone's spirits the day after Godzilla wipes out Tokyo. They've just seen their hometown destroyed by a giant lizard and have no doubt seen friends and family maimed and killed, but are they traumatized? Are they emotionally scarred? Hell no! Here they are, lined up in their perfectly neat and clean school uniforms, ready and eager to come to the aid of their country in its darkest hour! I mean, I dunno about you, but I don't remember any choir of schoolkids singing on TV the day after 9/11.
So here's hoping the Japanese never stop making "kaiju" movies, and that Hollywood keeps trying to remake them - so that we geeks will always have something new to complain about!
--------------------
Related:
Mothra
Labels:
classic cinema,
fandom,
foreign cinema,
horror
Monday, June 3, 2013
Links of the living dead
Last month was a rough one for two of my favorite film bloggers, Page and Brandie, but I believe they'll get through it. Admittedly, I don't know them that well, but they both strike me as having the ability to overcome the adversity that life has thrown at them. Do yourself a favor and check out their blogs; let 'em know you're out there.
This past weekend finally felt like summer for real after a cold and dreary spring, and I loved it! I spent both days out and about in the city, mostly Greenwich Village, and I even broke out the shorts for the first time all year. You might have heard that here in NYC, we've just started a brand new bike sharing program, and so far it looks like it's caught on pretty quickly. It's a huge change, and there are always gonna be some people afraid of the implications of that change, but in the long run, I firmly believe it'll benefit everybody.
Warm weather means it's time to start planning outdoor movies. Last night, I was looking at the schedules for the traditional outdoor movie sites in the five boroughs, and there are some particularly sweet selections this year, including a handful of classic movies I've never seen before, so I'm quite excited about it all.
Before the end of the day, I'll have the Sally Kellerman pics from last month's MASH screening up on the WSW Facebook page. Yes, they're late, I know.
From around the film blogosphere:
Courtney uses The Fast and the Furious franchise to examine where Hollywood stands on diversity. I really wish I were more interested in this franchise than I actually am, because Courtney's absolutely right; it does appear that Hollywood treats the F&F movies like a fluke instead of trying to learn from it. Still, it's hard for me personally to care about them with dramatic voids like Vin Diesel and the Rock in it, among others. If I was twelve again, it might be different, but most of the time, I look for a little more in my movies than fast cars and... fast cars. Still, F&F does deserve props for completely defying conventional wisdom on how to make an action movie franchise.
In anticipation of her blogathon in his honor next month, Monstergirl gives you the 411 on director William Castle.
The Lady Eve spotlights Rosemary's Baby and New York's famous Dakota building.
Brian does a good analysis of Steven Soderbergh's recent state-of-cinema speech.
Here's a story from the fine blog Silent Volume about an unusual screening of an early 20s film.
Two different pieces about the digital revolution: how digital movies are projected, and how smaller theaters are adjusting to the change.
The modern Hollywood screenwriter rarely gets to write what he wants to write.
This past weekend finally felt like summer for real after a cold and dreary spring, and I loved it! I spent both days out and about in the city, mostly Greenwich Village, and I even broke out the shorts for the first time all year. You might have heard that here in NYC, we've just started a brand new bike sharing program, and so far it looks like it's caught on pretty quickly. It's a huge change, and there are always gonna be some people afraid of the implications of that change, but in the long run, I firmly believe it'll benefit everybody.
Warm weather means it's time to start planning outdoor movies. Last night, I was looking at the schedules for the traditional outdoor movie sites in the five boroughs, and there are some particularly sweet selections this year, including a handful of classic movies I've never seen before, so I'm quite excited about it all.
Before the end of the day, I'll have the Sally Kellerman pics from last month's MASH screening up on the WSW Facebook page. Yes, they're late, I know.
From around the film blogosphere:
Courtney uses The Fast and the Furious franchise to examine where Hollywood stands on diversity. I really wish I were more interested in this franchise than I actually am, because Courtney's absolutely right; it does appear that Hollywood treats the F&F movies like a fluke instead of trying to learn from it. Still, it's hard for me personally to care about them with dramatic voids like Vin Diesel and the Rock in it, among others. If I was twelve again, it might be different, but most of the time, I look for a little more in my movies than fast cars and... fast cars. Still, F&F does deserve props for completely defying conventional wisdom on how to make an action movie franchise.
In anticipation of her blogathon in his honor next month, Monstergirl gives you the 411 on director William Castle.
The Lady Eve spotlights Rosemary's Baby and New York's famous Dakota building.
Brian does a good analysis of Steven Soderbergh's recent state-of-cinema speech.
Here's a story from the fine blog Silent Volume about an unusual screening of an early 20s film.
Two different pieces about the digital revolution: how digital movies are projected, and how smaller theaters are adjusting to the change.
The modern Hollywood screenwriter rarely gets to write what he wants to write.
Labels:
bloggers and critics,
movie industry,
movie makers,
race,
silent films,
technology
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