A Man For All Seasons (1966)
Contemporary viewer’s may be perplexed by a film such as A Man For All Seasons. Why make a two our motion picture about a Tudor lawyer, statesman and scholar and their subsequent moral objection to the reigning monarchs marital status? Yet, during the sixties, it was entirely possible for a mainstream studio to produce a film based upon a stage play that dramatised such specific historical events. Furthermore, a film like this that relied upon strong performances and an intelligent script (and little more) could find a mainstream audience and be both a critical and commercial success. Nowadays, such productions still exist but they are now mainly the province of streaming services. Furthermore, the cinematic format has been replaced by that of a high budget TV show, which explores the topic at hand over an eight to ten hour running time.
Contemporary viewer’s may be perplexed by a film such as A Man For All Seasons. Why make a two our motion picture about a Tudor lawyer, statesman and scholar and their subsequent moral objection to the reigning monarchs marital status? Yet, during the sixties, it was entirely possible for a mainstream studio to produce a film based upon a stage play that dramatised such specific historical events. Furthermore, a film like this that relied upon strong performances and an intelligent script (and little more) could find a mainstream audience and be both a critical and commercial success. Nowadays, such productions still exist but they are now mainly the province of streaming services. Furthermore, the cinematic format has been replaced by that of a high budget TV show, which explores the topic at hand over an eight to ten hour running time.
Directed by Fred Zinnemann (High Noon, From Here to Eternity) and adapted by Robert Bolt from his own play, A Man For All Seasons explores Sir Thomas More’s relationship with King Henry VIII at the time of the monarch’s divorce from Catherine of Aragon and remarriage to Anne Boleyn. A devout Roman Catholic, Sir Thomas More (Paul Scofield) has a crisis of conscience regarding the legality of the divorce and the subsequent break with the Church of Rome. The King (Robert Shaw) holds More in high regard and does not want to compel him to support his position, preferring that his public approval is given freely. Sadly it is not, leading to More risking his liberty and safety on a matter of principle. The screenplay is articulate and intelligent, placing great weight upon the importance of spiritual peril. The fate of one’s immortal soul was far from a trivial concern in Tudor England. There was no separation of church and state at the time and religion was an integral part of every aspect of life.
A Man For All Seasons is filled with outstanding British actors of the time, such as Leo McKern, Dame Wendy Hiller, Nigel Davenport and Susannah York. A young John Hurt makes his mark as the career driven Richard Rich. But it is Paul Scofield who dominates the proceedings as a man of principle trying to steer a fateful course without betraying his values. His failure to accommodate the political imperatives of the time is both laudable and tragic. His performance is poignant and dignified. The film is very much an exploration of the concept of identity and personal integrity. Director Fred Zinnemann wisely eliminates some of the Brechtian elements of the play, focusing on a more linear narrative and traditional presentation. He also skilfully uses historical locations in Oxfordshire and Hampshire to double for Hampton Court Palace and Parliament.
The film does make several changes to historical events as a means of providing the story with a more conventional cinematic arc. The screenplay features a more detailed backstory with regard to Richard Rich (John Hurt), the solicitor-general and his prior association with More. However, the nature of Rich’s perjury during More’s trial is in accord with historians’ consensus on events. The film stresses the point that Rich has accommodated Thomas Cromwell, the King’s most senior minister, and has been subsequently made attorney-general of Wales. This prompts a pithy retort from More “Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world, but for Wales”? Robert Bolts liberally peppers the script with similarly acerbic, yet erudite exchanges. It is one of the major elements that gives such a straightforward plot its weight and gravitas.
A Man For All Seasons is a well honed, efficient historical drama and thoughtful exploration of the frequent incompatibility of personal moral rectitude with any sort of long established political institution. Be it the Church or the monarchy. At the start of the film Cardinal Wolsey (Orson Welles) regrets he did not serve God as well as he served his king. Sir Thomas More, on the other hand, states before his execution that he remains “His majesty's good servant...but God's first”. It is a most thought provoking juxtaposition. The film also stands as a masterclass in acting and remains a textbook example of the art of writing a good screenplay. A Man For All Seasons went on to win six Academy Awards at a time when such awards were still credible and relevant. It is also worth noting that it was the sixth highest grossing film in North America in 1966.
The Naked Jungle (1954)
Set in Brazil in 1901, plantation owner Christopher Leiningen (Charlton Heston) makes arrangements to get married. He has spent his entire life building his estate and reclaiming land from the jungle. He is fiercely independent but he is also alone and isolated. Joanna Selby (Eleanor Parker) from New Orleans agrees to marry him but their first meeting does not go well. Leiningen is unhappy to discover that Joanna is a widow and hence has a past, so he tells her to return to America on the next available boat. However, local commissioner (William Conrad) informs Leiningen that swarming soldier ants, or Marabunta, are moving towards his plantation destroying everything in their path. Leiningen refuses to abandon his life’s work and is surprised when Joanna decides to stay with him. Can they convince their native workers to stay too and can they defend the estate from the Marabunta, described as “forty square miles of agonising death”.
Set in Brazil in 1901, plantation owner Christopher Leiningen (Charlton Heston) makes arrangements to get married. He has spent his entire life building his estate and reclaiming land from the jungle. He is fiercely independent but he is also alone and isolated. Joanna Selby (Eleanor Parker) from New Orleans agrees to marry him but their first meeting does not go well. Leiningen is unhappy to discover that Joanna is a widow and hence has a past, so he tells her to return to America on the next available boat. However, local commissioner (William Conrad) informs Leiningen that swarming soldier ants, or Marabunta, are moving towards his plantation destroying everything in their path. Leiningen refuses to abandon his life’s work and is surprised when Joanna decides to stay with him. Can they convince their native workers to stay too and can they defend the estate from the Marabunta, described as “forty square miles of agonising death”.
The Naked Jungle is essentially a romantic drama with some action scenes added to the final act. If it were made today it would more than likely be an action movie with a romantic subplot added as an afterthought. However, this was the fifties and “romance” sold and by “romance” I of course mean sex. Obviously such a subject couldn’t be addressed directly, due to the prevailing social attitudes and film making codes of the time. So the screenplay by Ranald MacDougall, Ben Maddow and Philip Yordan, dances around the issue dropping numerous unsubtle hints. Christopher Leiningen is a clean cut, no nonsense hero and man’s man. He is the master of all he surveys and has built his own world by the strength of his own will. But he balks of the idea of marrying a widow; a women who is more sexually experienced than him. Especially as it is more than likely he is a virgin himself. The sexual politics of this film are quite advanced for the times.
The first hour of the The Naked Jungle is a fraught love story, filled with sexual tension. Contemporary viewers who lack the ability to detach themselves from the outdated imperialist themes, dubious depiction of the Brazilian natives and other obsolete elements of the story may find The Naked Jungle hard to watch. Those who can contextualise the narrative will be rewarded with strong performances from both Heston and Parker. The latter has some very good lines. When rebuffed for being a widow and hence not being a virgin she calmly states that a piano plays better if it has already been played. The production values are also sound with Florida standing in for tropical Brazil. The studio scenes and interior sets are sumptuous and reflect the grandiose style of big studios of the time.
The last thirty minutes of The Naked Jungle feature the arrival of the Marabunta and the nature and habits of soldier ants are grossly misrepresented. But why let natural history stand in the way of good action scenes. Hence we get a lot of matte painting showing jungle stripped of foliage and composite shots of ants swarming around the cast. There’s also some good miniature work at the film’s climax. A few cast members are eaten by the marauding Marabunta but it’s all rather tame. A corpse that has been eaten to the bone is briefly shown and one actor briefly staggers around with ants covering his hands and face but it’s hardly terrifying. Overall, The Naked Jungle is an entertaining example of the sort of romantic drama with a soupçon of action which were a cinematic mainstay of the times. It reflects the tastes, politics and popular culture of the fifties and should be judged within such a context.
The Thomas Crown Affair (1968)
Millionaire businessman Thomas Crown (Steve McQueen) arranges for four men to steal $2,660,527.62 from a Boston bank. The men, who have never met before or seen Crown, successfully carry out the robbery. A fifth man then transports the stolen money and dumps it in a cemetery trash can. Crown retrieves the money, flies to Geneva and deposits it in a Swiss bank account. Eddy Malone (Paul Burke), the Boston police detective in charge of the case makes no progress until the bank’s insurance company assigns him one of their top investigators, Vicki Anderson (Faye Dunaway). Anderson thinks like a thief and works based upon her instincts. Looking through the evidence, she deduces that Crown is the culprit, potentially committing crimes just for amusement. Anderson subsequently meets Crown socially. Despite the situation and their respective positions, they are immediately attracted to each other and begin a relationship.
Millionaire businessman Thomas Crown (Steve McQueen) arranges for four men to steal $2,660,527.62 from a Boston bank. The men, who have never met before or seen Crown, successfully carry out the robbery. A fifth man then transports the stolen money and dumps it in a cemetery trash can. Crown retrieves the money, flies to Geneva and deposits it in a Swiss bank account. Eddy Malone (Paul Burke), the Boston police detective in charge of the case makes no progress until the bank’s insurance company assigns him one of their top investigators, Vicki Anderson (Faye Dunaway). Anderson thinks like a thief and works based upon her instincts. Looking through the evidence, she deduces that Crown is the culprit, potentially committing crimes just for amusement. Anderson subsequently meets Crown socially. Despite the situation and their respective positions, they are immediately attracted to each other and begin a relationship.
The Thomas Crown Affair is neo noir and a microcosm of Hollywood progressive cinema from the late sixties. It has a French cinematic aesthetic in its lighting and framing. Haskell Wexler’s cinematography is very fluid. The film makes extensive use of split screen and "multi-dynamic image technique", images shifting on moving panes. Director Norman Jewison directs confidently and with style focusing often on what is not being said, rather than what is. McQueen and Dunaway are charismatic and beautiful. They exude sex appeal and the pair carry what is essentially a dialogue light love story, through their onscreen presence. Noel Harrison’s performance of the song, The Windmills of Your mind, is suitably haunting and alludes to the complexities of Thomas Crown’s personality. It is all very arty, drawing upon all the prevailing cinematic trends and tropes of the time.
All of which is why I found The Thomas Crown Affair to be an interesting example of filmmaking from the sixties, rather than being an interesting film per se. Pop culture has evolved and the concept of the millionaire playboy and their “jet set” lifestyles is no longer universally admired and desired. Millionaires are now more often and not seen as Bond villains or at the very least, socially and emotionally dysfunctional. Hence the premise of The Thomas Crown Affair is dated with its self indulgent playboy master criminal. The more interesting aspect of the screenplay by Alan Trustman is the exploration of the “burden of wealth” and how having everything means you have nothing. Sadly, this is not explored sufficiently, as is the subplot about Crown’s dead wife. The bittersweet ending does work well and still rings very true. But the journey to this point is far too enamoured with presentation rather than feelings.
Perhaps the most problematic aspect of The Thomas Crown Affair is the soundtrack by French composer Michael Legrand. Norman Jewison originally wanted Henry Mancini to write the score for the film but he was unavailable and so recommended Legrand. His jazz heavy music was intentionally written for the rough cut of the film. Hence it had to be edited to fit on screen events in the final cut, which further makes the music an incongruous match. Plus jazz is a very broad church, musically speaking. Lalo Schifrin’s score for Bullitt, released the same year as The Thomas Crown Affair, is still cool as hell and funky. Legrands’ approach is far less melodic and far more kinetic. It is often very intrusive and frankly distracting. It ultimately makes a problematic film, even harder to watch for a modern audience. I may give the 1999 remake a watch to see if it handles the subject any better.
Apocalypse Now Final Cut (1979)
Writing a review of Apocalypse Now is a somewhat redundant exercise, unless you have never seen the any of the previous versions of the movie, or your analysis is offering a unique and wholly original perspective. It is one of the most scrutinised, dissected and studied films in the history of cinema. Furthermore, the stories associated with the films tumultuous production have become as equally legendary as the movie itself. There is as much apocrypha associated with Apocalypse Now as there are legitimate anecdotes. In many respects the documentary Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse, which was shot during the films production, is equally as fascinating as the iconic movie. So with all this in mind, I will simply try to succinctly summarise my thoughts on this third version of Francis Ford Coppola’s magnum opus, which has been officially labelled “Final Cut” by the director.
Writing a review of Apocalypse Now is a somewhat redundant exercise, unless you have never seen the any of the previous versions of the movie, or your analysis is offering a unique and wholly original perspective. It is one of the most scrutinised, dissected and studied films in the history of cinema. Furthermore, the stories associated with the films tumultuous production have become as equally legendary as the movie itself. There is as much apocrypha associated with Apocalypse Now as there are legitimate anecdotes. In many respects the documentary Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse, which was shot during the films production, is equally as fascinating as the iconic movie. So with all this in mind, I will simply try to succinctly summarise my thoughts on this third version of Francis Ford Coppola’s magnum opus, which has been officially labelled “Final Cut” by the director.
Apocalypse Now Final Cut has been restored from the original camera negative via a 4K scan. Previous transfers used for the Redux version, were made from an interpositive. The new version has a runtime of 183 minutes, with Coppola having cut 20 minutes of the added material from Redux print. The original theatrical release in 1979 ran for 147 minutes. As for changes in scenes, the extended plot detour that takes place on the de Marais family's rubber plantation remains. Some critics consider this to be an unnecessary digression that slows the narrative. I see it more as an interesting statement on imperialism and its failures, which are subsequently being repeated by the United States and their interventionist foreign policies. The extended episode with Lieutenant Colonel Kilgore (Robert Duvall) culminating in the theft of his surfboard also remains. However, the scene in which Willard (Martin Sheen) and his men find the Playboy Bunnies, marooned after their helicopter transport has run out of fuel, has been removed. So has one of few daylight scenes showing Kurtz (Marlon Brando) reading aloud from Time Magazine to a group of Cambodian children. No further new footage has been restored to the film either.
Upon mature reflection, I would say that Apocalypse Now Final Cut is the most polished and substantial version of the film out of all three edits. It makes its points about the nature of war, its inherent absurdity, as well as contradictions and does so at the right pace. This time round Willard’s journeys upriver to both a metaphorical and literal place of insanity, is done at exactly the right pace. There no longer feels like they’re narrative gaps or changes of pace. For those familiar with the bootleg VHS assembly print that was in circulation in the early eighties, there are still several legendary scenes missing. But I would argue that they wouldn’t really add anything to the overall film. If any still exist then they would better serve as “extras” on the Blu-ray release. The beautifully restored print is also a timely reminder of how complex action scenes use to constructed in the pre-digital age. The helicopter attack on the coastal village is still a staggering feat of logistical organisation and co-ordination.
Throne of Blood (1957)
When I first saw Throne of Blood as a teenager I was ill in bed with a fever. I found the brooding atmosphere and the use of fog, very hypnotic and was never quite sure if this ethereal quality was down to my state of health or the way the film had been crafted. Subsequent viewings have established that the dream like aspect of the film is indeed due to the creative talents of it's great director. Akira Kurosawa remains the best-known Japanese director to Western audiences, while other luminaries, such as Mikio Naruse, Yasujiro Ozu and Kenji Mizoguchi, are known mainly to aficionados and scholars of cinema. Kurosawa’s work maintains a critical consensus, although he was at one point rejected in his native country for being too entrenched in obsolete traditions and themes. On a technical level his film making credentials remain unparalleled and in many ways, Throne of Blood is a text book example of his style and technique.
When I first saw Throne of Blood as a teenager I was ill in bed with a fever. I found the brooding atmosphere and the use of fog, very hypnotic and was never quite sure if this ethereal quality was down to my state of health or the way the film had been crafted. Subsequent viewings have established that the dream like aspect of the film is indeed due to the creative talents of it's great director. Akira Kurosawa remains the best-known Japanese director to Western audiences, while other luminaries, such as Mikio Naruse, Yasujiro Ozu and Kenji Mizoguchi, are known mainly to aficionados and scholars of cinema. Kurosawa’s work maintains a critical consensus, although he was at one point rejected in his native country for being too entrenched in obsolete traditions and themes. On a technical level his film making credentials remain unparalleled and in many ways, Throne of Blood is a text book example of his style and technique.
The story focuses on Washizu and Miki, two captains that have just successfully suppressed a rebellion for their warlord Lord Tsuzuki. While riding through Cobweb Forest, they encounter an old woman who prophesies that Washizu will usurp castle, but that his reign will be brief, and his throne soon will be occupied by Miki's son. Both warriors initially laugh at these predictions, but there are soon indications that the prophesy may be true. When Washizu reveals his thoughts to his scheming wife Asaji, she urges him to take the initiative and kill Lord Tsuzuki who is to visit their home. Washizu subsequently murders his Lord and blames his bodyguards, thus usurping the throne. Yet he is plagued by guilt for betraying his honour and slowly descends into madness as he sees supernatural visions and portentous signs. However, despite concerns over his fitness to rule along with his increasing abuse of his power, Washizu has no intention of relinquishing his position.
This 1957 retelling of “the Scottish play” translates perfectly into 16th century feudal Japan. It retains much of the Shakespeare's brooding atmosphere and to this Kurosawa adds the formality and cultural intrigue of his native country. The adaptation omits most of the minor characters and transforms the witches' scenes into a supernatural encounter with an old woman spinning in a forest glade. Acted in the classic Kabuki tradition, the central performances, particularly that of Toshiro Mifune, are superb in spite of their economy of words. Intent and feelings are often conveyed by body language and deportment. The black and white cinematography, the imposing production design, striking costumes and jolting use of violence all work to create a sinister and esoteric world; an attitude still held about Japan by the West in the post war era. Kurosawa uses the camera masterfully, alternating between lengthy static takes and fluid tracking shots. There are many visually arresting scenes both big and small, such as Cobweb Forest slowly advancing towards the castle through a sea of fog as well as the sudden invasion of the throne room by a flock of birds.
Modern audiences may have to adjust their expectations, as Throne of Blood is made in the Noh drama style which relies on visual, non-verbal means convey characters feelings and the underlying mood. But it is the cultural differences of Japanese cinema that make this film so engaging, atmospheric and compelling. Along with its high contrast black and white photography, extraordinary images of rain, galloping horses, and highly charged performances. All of which contribute to an atmosphere of self-destructive inevitability for the tragic Captain Washizu. As for the ending, let it suffice to say that it is justifiably legendary and a visual triumph. As a piece of cinema, Throne of Blood goes beyond being a mere adaptation Shakespeare or even a Samurai movie. It remains a film making landmark and bastion of visual creativity, underpinned by a particularly Japanese sensibility. It is singularly thought provoking and stylish, and once seen it leaves an indelible impression.
Bullitt (1968)
In a recent blog post I wrote about the difficulty that you can encounter sometimes when trying to watch movies that have been deemed “classic” by popular consensus. I listed 10 films of note that I intend to watch this year and to see if my views aligned with the various institutions and critics that praise them. The first on that list was the iconic sixties thriller Bullitt starring Steve McQueen. Having now watched the movie, I thought it would be prudent to collate my thoughts on it. Considering the immense amount of material that has already been written about it, I see no reason to present a review per se. Rather, here are my initial impressions for consideration. I’ve tried to highlight some specific aspects of the film that I think are of note or merit debate.
In a recent blog post I wrote about the difficulty that you can encounter sometimes when trying to watch movies that have been deemed “classic” by popular consensus. I listed 10 films of note that I intend to watch this year and to see if my views aligned with the various institutions and critics that praise them. The first on that list was the iconic sixties thriller Bullitt starring Steve McQueen. Having now watched the movie, I thought it would be prudent to collate my thoughts on it. Considering the immense amount of material that has already been written about it, I see no reason to present a review per se. Rather, here are my initial impressions for consideration. I’ve tried to highlight some specific aspects of the film that I think are of note or merit debate.
The cinematography in Bullitt is noticeably stylish and beyond the functional. William A. Fraker uses a lot of low camera angles, fluid camera movements and even embraces a Gonzo style for crowd scenes. The way bystanders congregate around crime scenes is depicted quite differently from other movies of the time. It is shown as rather unpleasant and insensitive act, often reflected in the snatches of dialogue that are heard. The famous car chase sequence is edited in similar fashion that places the viewer very much in the middle of the action. Rather than just rely on single shots from locked off cameras, the set piece is covered from multiple angles and frequently from the perspective of the vehicles themselves. It also conveys the fact that high speed pursuits are not just about performance vehicles but require skill from the drivers.
Then there is the matter of violence and the way in which it is depicted in the movie. Hollywood was shifting its stance on this weighty issue during the late sixties. As a result, there is a rather clinical shooting involving a shotgun. During the climatic shootout in the airport departure lounge there is an interesting concession to human collateral damage, when a security guard is gunned down in a very casual manner. We later see him getting the last rites from a passing priest, thus showing that death is seldom quick in such situations. Another interesting aspect is the depiction of two hired contract killers. They are not shown as sneering stereotypical gangsters but more as ageing business men. Furthermore, there is no snappy banter between them. Instead we are left with a measured silence and a few meaningful looks.
Something else that stands out about Bullitt is the accurate depiction of police investigation techniques of the time. There are no desktop computers and a lot of work is completed by copious note taking and attention to detail. We see evidence being meticulously being sorted through to see if it will yield any detail. The telephotography machine that prints suspects photos via the phone and a dot matrix printer is paradoxically archaic yet very contemporary. Then off course there’s the plot device of politics impinging upon police work. The sixties were a time when the default deference towards various public institutions was beginning to fade. Captains wanting an easy life and not wanting to rock the boat, as well as career driven Senators happy to tread on toes to get ahead, were new concepts back then.
Bullitt overall met and exceeded my expectations. The plot was interesting and its themes still relevant. Steve McQueen was effortlessly cool in the title role and the movie seemed to capture the changing mood of the period. The car chase was technically well executed and I can certainly see how the movies entire approach had a knock-on effect upon other thrillers and particularly cop movies. Sadly, Jacqueline Bisset’s character Cathy has precious little to do within the functional role of Frank Bullitt’s love interest. Sexual politics were obviously not on this film’s primary agenda. However, Lalo Schifrin’s superb jazz driven score is still a thing of beauty and reflects the idiom of the decade. Therefore, I appreciate why Bullitt enjoys the status that it currently does. It will be interesting to see if the next movie on my list also makes the grade.
Acquainting Yourself with Classics Films
Let us take a moment to consider those movie lists you often come across on websites and in magazines. Why? Because there’s a lot of them about. You know the sort, one hundred movies that you must see before you go senile, according to some well-known critic or august institution like the BFI. Or if you prefer something more hip and eclectic then here’s another one collated by British filmmaker Edgar Wright. Furthermore, these lists are often somewhat homogeneous, containing a mixture of bonafide yet ubiquitous classics, a percentage of obscure arty-farty bollocks and a few wild cards that they put in for a laugh. These will be either so-called cult movies or examples from the “it’s so bad, it’s good” school of film making.
Let us take a moment to consider those movie lists you often come across on websites and in magazines. Why? Because there’s a lot of them about. You know the sort, one hundred movies that you must see before you go senile, according to some well-known critic or august institution like the BFI. Or if you prefer something more hip and eclectic then here’s another one collated by British filmmaker Edgar Wright. Furthermore, these lists are often somewhat homogeneous, containing a mixture of bonafide yet ubiquitous classics, a percentage of obscure arty-farty bollocks and a few wild cards that they put in for a laugh. These will be either so-called cult movies or examples from the “it’s so bad, it’s good” school of film making.
Bearing that all-in mind, I thought it would be interesting to see what someone's reaction would be when watching one of these titles for the first time. Classic films such as Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, Vittorio De Sica's The Bicycle Thieves or Orson Welles' Citizen Kane. All of these examples have established and prodigious reputations as well as a lot of artistic and cultural baggage attached to them. Would a first-time viewer feel obliged to follow herd and add their voice to the prevailing consensus? Or if they did not enjoy the movie and felt it had specific flaws would they have the courage of their convictions to call a spade a spade?
Well to cut a long story short, if you want something done properly, then do it yourself. Therefore, I shall be kicking the process off by watching that classic sixties Bullitt. Yes, I have never seen this alleged defining point in Steve McQueen’s acting career, so I thought it would be a great example to begin with. Bullitt is a movie I’ve only ever seen snatches of. The sort of movie you find while channel surfing and watch a few minutes of before turning over yet again. Each time, I say to myself, I must get around to watching that and then I never do. Oddly enough I do own the Lalo Schifrin soundtrack which is extremely cool in that sixties movie idiom. So, I’ve secured a nice high definition copy of the film and shall endeavour to watch it and review it this week. It will be interesting to see the famous ten-minute car chase within it’s right context and make a measured judgement about it.
Now I make no bones about the fact that I like some specific types of movies more so than others. I would much rather watch a film about a serial killer murdering a bunch of teenagers by sticking a Dyson up their wazoo, than some tedious, worthy human drama about a Bolivian praegustator coming to terms with the death of their next-door neighbour’s budgie, during the Boer War. However, I also feel that it is important to be well versed in all aspects of cinema, if you wish to have an informed opinion on the subject. Therefore, the next couple of months could be very interesting as I work my way through the following films. You can also expect some eclectic reviews. If you have any interesting suggestions, feel free to leave a comment and I’ll see what I can do about adding them to the list.
Bullitt (1968)
Rashômon (1950)
Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot (1953)
Wake in Fright (1971)
Freaks (1932)
Solaris (1972)
Thief (1981)
Sorcerer (1977)
Metropolis (1927)
M (1931)
The Enigma of 2001: A Space Odyssey
"2001: A Space Odyssey. Stanley Kubrick’s philosophically ambitious, technically innovative and visually stunning cinematic milestone". BFI November 2014.
You will often find this sort of language associated with Kubrick's work, especially 2001: A Space Odyssey. It is considered by many to be his finest production and one of the greatest science fiction feature films ever made. In fact 2001: A Space Odyssey has become one of those cinematic sacred cows that regularly features in most film buffs top ten movies of all time. It's a curious thing because a little research will show that critical opinion was split right down the middle on its release in spring 1968. It is only over the course of the last five decades that the movie has grown in artistic stature and garnered the acclaim it now enjoys.
"2001: A Space Odyssey. Stanley Kubrick’s philosophically ambitious, technically innovative and visually stunning cinematic milestone". BFI November 2014.
You will often find this sort of language associated with Kubrick's work, especially 2001: A Space Odyssey. It is considered by many to be his finest production and one of the greatest science fiction feature films ever made. In fact 2001: A Space Odyssey has become one of those cinematic sacred cows that regularly features in most film buffs top ten movies of all time. It's a curious thing because a little research will show that critical opinion was split right down the middle on its release in spring 1968. It is only over the course of the last five decades that the movie has grown in artistic stature and garnered the acclaim it now enjoys.
When movies achieve such status, it becomes very difficult to objectively critique them. Many viewers feel obliged to add their voice to the consensus. "If everyone thinks this film is great then so must I" seems to be the prevailing mentality. There is also an erroneous assumption that if a film is truly great, it will automatically be accessible to all potential audiences. That is often not the case. For every person who watches 2001: A Space Odyssey for the first time and comes away feeling profoundly inspired, there will be another who leaves confused, mislead or just plain bored. 2001: A Space Odyssey is ultimately an acquired taste and although I enjoy and admire the film for many reasons; I would not say that it is for everyone. In fact I would actually discourage some viewers from seeing it.
The first thing I would say to anyone intending to watch his movie for the first time is to be patient. It has a deliberately slow and measured pace. The lack of dialogue in the first act, which focuses on the "dawn of man", requires you to pay extra attention to the subtleties of the story and performances. As ever with Kubrick’s work there's a focus upon imagery and emphasis placed upon visual composition. In the second act the characters are somewhat cold and clinically defined. The production design and the technology is by far the larger player at this stage. The denouement with is allegorical content will be especially hard to digest by those viewers that like their narrative linear and presented in an easily digestible format. If you are not a fan of classical music then the movie’s soundtrack may also be a major stumbling block.
There is however, much to be praised about the movie. The visual effects still hold up well today and there is little technologically to date the proceedings. The computer graphic and GUIs that are depicted are still quite pertinent. Despite its somewhat somber tone the story is a very positive one. Perhaps mankind's future isn't as bleak as some would think. It may be that the movies greatest achievement is its ability to make you think and reflect. Due to the somewhat nebulous ending, viewers are encouraged to interpret matters for themselves. I have known 2001: A Space Odyssey to inspire debates about religion, determinism and many other philosophical concepts.
2001: A Space Odyssey is more than just a conventional piece of cinematic story telling. It is a conduit for ideas and concepts. It is far from just a passive experience and requires viewers to participate in the experience with an open and enquiring mind. Kubrick has fashioned a puzzle that you can either admired for what it is, or you can go a stage further and attempt to solve it. As long as you realise that there is no single correct solution. Ultimately viewing this movie is a very unique and personal experience; 2001: A Space Odyssey doesn't necessarily offer the same thing to everyone. Perhaps that is why some viewers do not enjoy watching it. However that doesn't prove that either they or Kubrick is somehow wrong. It simply demonstrates the subjective nature of art.
There is still an enigma associated with 2001: A Space Odyssey. It will never truly disappear because the themes that Kubrick explores are ultimately timeless. So if you are tempted to see this movie at any other point, take time to consider whether it really is for you. There has been so much written about it that you shouldn't have any difficulty making such a choice. If the answer is no then that is fine. Film cannot be everything to everyone and that is especially true of 2001: A Space Odyssey. It is not always essential to join the consensus about a movie and it is perfectly acceptable to say that something is not to your liking due to differing taste. One should never feel obliged to like something because of the prevailing culture. That is something Kubrick himself would have eschewed.
Dracula (1958)
Following the 2012 restored release of The Curse of Frankenstein, Hammer, Icon Film Distribution and Lionsgate jointly produced a Blu-ray restoration of another British classic. This time it was the 1958 version of Dracula directed by Terence Fisher. This is one of Hammer's finest films and not only gets a superb High Definition transfer but also sees the restoration of two lost scenes. Dracula literally re-invented the horror genre and the depiction of vampires in film. It also established the studio as a key player within the industry and made international stars of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. This new restoration finally does justice to the source material presenting it as it deserves to be seen.
Following the 2012 restored release of The Curse of Frankenstein, Hammer, Icon Film Distribution and Lionsgate jointly produced a Blu-ray restoration of another British classic. This time it was the 1958 version of Dracula directed by Terence Fisher. This is one of Hammer's finest films and not only gets a superb High Definition transfer but also sees the restoration of two lost scenes. Dracula literally re-invented the horror genre and the depiction of vampires in film. It also established the studio as a key player within the industry and made international stars of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. This new restoration finally does justice to the source material presenting it as it deserves to be seen.
The release contains two versions of the film, both of which can be accessed via seamless branching on the Blu-ray disc. There is the 2007 BFI restoration plus the new 2012 Hammer restoration, which adds additional footage that has been unavailable for decades, as well as the original UK title card. The additional footage comprises two of the scenes that were originally censored by the BBFC in 1958. The material was restored to the film from the infamous “Japanese reels” validating the long-held notion that more explicit prints existed for the far eastern market. The scenes depict Dracula’s seduction of Mina, which was considered too overtly sexual for the times. Then there is the infamous face clawing scene from Dracula’s final demise.
The film also boasts an outstanding commentary track from Hammer historian Marcus Hearn and author and critic Jonathan Rigby. For those who have an interest in Hammer Studios or cinema in general this is an extremely informative and enjoyable narrative. Both speakers have a wealth of interesting and relevant anecdotes. They offer a keen insight into the British film industry of the time and its relationship with the BBFC and the press. There is also an excellent discussion of each actors respective acting techniques. As a result I learned of Peter Cushing's famous finger acting; the repeated gesture of raising his index finger to emphasise an important point. I will always look out for it now.
Dracula is a vibrant, beautifully constructed movie with intelligent performances and a literate screenplay. The production design is outstanding as is the lush cinematography. The proceedings are further embellished by James Bernard's dramatic score which compliments the tense atmosphere and bouts of horror. It should be noted that what was once considered to be a pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable within the confines of a "X" certificate, now merits a more sedate "12" rating from the BBFC. Certainly Dracula will strike some people as being somewhat tame by today's standards. However if it viewed with an appropriate sense of historical context, Dracula is a fine example of British cinema at its best.
El Dorado (1966)
El Dorado opens with a montage of paintings by celebrated Western artists Olaf Weighorst. These beautiful pictures in many ways reflect the nature of the movie, depicting a stylised representation of the Old West that despite its beauty, never really existed. Director Howard Hawks includes every possible genre trope and meme into El Dorado but far from being a handicap, it makes the movie a perfect distillation of Hollywood Western. The pairing of John Wayne and Robert Mitchum is sublime as the two effortlessly riff off each other. If you need an example of how the Western is the most flexible and accessible movie genre, then El Dorado is a text book example.
El Dorado opens with a montage of paintings by celebrated Western artists Olaf Weighorst. These beautiful pictures in many ways reflect the nature of the movie, depicting a stylised representation of the Old West that despite its beauty, never really existed. Director Howard Hawks includes every possible genre trope and meme into El Dorado but far from being a handicap, it makes the movie a perfect distillation of Hollywood Western. The pairing of John Wayne and Robert Mitchum is sublime as the two effortlessly riff off each other. If you need an example of how the Western is the most flexible and accessible movie genre, then El Dorado is a text book example.
Wayne plays Cole Thornton, a hired gun who travels El Dorado to pursue a potential job offer from Rancher Bart Jason (Ed Asner). Jason needs Thornton to remove my any means, a rival rancher who own the local water rights and to also take care” of local Sheriff J P Harrah (Robert Mitchum). Thornton refuses the contract as Harrah is a friend and subsequently leaves town. Six months later Thornton returns to El Dorado to find his friend has become a drunk after being crossed in love. The range war has also escalated and Bart Jason now has a formidable army of men, led by notorious gunman Nelse McLeod (Christopher George, sporting an excellent scar and contact lens). Outnumbered, Thornton and Harrah try to keep the peace with only the help of an old Indian fighter (Arthur Hunnicutt) and an inexperienced greenhorn called Mississippi (James Caan).
The mid-sixties were a very interesting time for Hollywood as writers and directors tired of the status quo, started pushing boundaries of movie ratings. El Dorado blends traditional Western machismo with Greek tragedy and plenty of sassy dialogue. It is also quite violent for the times, something that becomes more apparent with the clarity of the latest Blu-ray release. Although predominantly set bound, the film does have some scenic what location work. The chemistry between the two leads is by far the movies strongest selling point and their real life friendship is clear. Leigh Bracket’s script is loaded with wise cracks, Western philosophy and musings on the Code of the West. Caan and Hunnicutt are great foils.
On release El Dorado was considered to be a little old school compared to the emerging revisionist trends of the time. The ballad that plays over the opening credits, sung by George Alexander and The Mellomen, is very traditional. Nelson Riddles score conversely has quite a contemporary arrangement. The movie sits squarely between the old and the new. Its theatrical release was delayed by Paramount so that it would not clash with Nevada Smith, which depicted a far more cynical and bleaker interpretation of the West.
Over the years El Dorado has grown in critical and public acclaim and is now rated more highly than it was upon its initial release. Roger Ebert gave the film a near-perfect rating at 3 1/2 out of four stars, stating “El Dorado is a tightly directed, humorous, altogether successful Western, turned out almost effortlessly, it would seem, by three old pros: John Wayne, Robert Mitchum and director Howard Hawks”. The movie certainly made an impact upon me as I saw it as a child and has stayed with me over the years. I still have a soft spot for Edgar Allan Poes poem Eldorado that is quoted by James Caan throughout the movie.