Reviews

I really wanted to hate this movie. I missed out on so much in high school, and made so many mistakes, that I don't want to deal with "uplifting" movies where the boy does everything right. I can't deal with that, because it hurts too much. I don't want to learn positive lessons, and I don't want to be uplifted.

This movie looked like it would be the perfect storm.

For about the first forty-five minutes, it really was as awful as I feared (or hoped) that it would be. It was like watching PRETTY IN PINK only the characters kept acting like they were "really" in ON THE WATERFRONT. The cute, teen characters just didn't seem to belong with the ugly, dirty setting. There was too much forced humor and the boy's parents were comical immigrants and didn't seem real.

It takes a lot of effort, but if you stick with this movie for long enough it starts to make sense. At first the hero is like, listening to Springsteen on his Walkman 24/7 and that's all he needs to turn his life around. He literally kisses his girl because he hears Bruce's voice telling him "you want it -- you take it -- you pay the price!" I really didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that point. I guess the reason I failed in high school is because my favorite song was "Get Off of My Cloud!"

But as the story gets darker, and the boy gets angrier, the connection to Bruce Springsteen actually feels a lot more real and valid. I loved the part where he was arguing with his father, and the father yells, "You are MY SON!" And the boy yells back, "I don't want to be! I want to be MORE than that!" Why that excited me is not that it's great drama, or that I could relate to it from my own life. But that one moment really sums up everything Bruce Springsteen has to say about fathers and sons in about thirty years worth of music. In that sense this movie convinced me that it was real in the end, even though an awful lot of it feels fake and oddly sentimental.

So three and a half stars feels right. The first half hour is more like a John Hughes movie than anything else. But the last half hour is really powerful. And as childish as the Springsteen worship seems at the beginning, by the end it comes across as powerful and absolutely sincere.

I just wish someone could make a movie like this about the Doors. Final scene: Javid walks into his dad's bedroom with his Walkman on.

"Father?"

"Yes, son."

"I want to kill you!"

Now that's what I call rock and roll!

When this miniseries was on the air, I loved the fact that Tom Berenger wasn't afraid to give Teddy Roosevelt a squeaky voice and some silly upper class mannerisms. He took on that part of the man and still made him come across as a leader and a hero.

But what really impressed me were the smaller roles, and the less obvious moments. The way that Stephen Crane first walks on camera, drunk and obviously half in love with death . . . Like a 19th century Jim Morrison! And the way the other reporter is the one who gets hit, and the way he's lying there dying as Stephen Crane narrates the course of the battle. And the way, at the very end, the reporter's big boss, W. R. Hearts himself, comes up on horseback and promises the dying reporter that his family will be looked after. Hearst praises the man for his sacrifice and then gallops off to the sound of the gunfire.

Take that, Citizen Kane!

This movie pulls off a minor miracle -- it goes from an awful, unoriginal, bad teens on a rampage opening to a beautiful, tragic, haunting conclusion. Along the way it takes a hard look at loneliness, political hypocrisy, the decline and fall of the British Empire, and the long range suffering and sadness caused by the atomic age. Most of the adult performances are bad, if not downright silly. Yet the child actors save the day with their natural humanity and unrehearsed warmth. Even when they're cold!

Most people will probably only remember this movie for Oliver Reed's spectacular early performance as the ultimate teen hoodlum. Bu there is so much more going on here. You can see how this movie really inspired later classics like A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, THE DEATH WHEELERS (aka PSYCHOMANIA) and even a tongue in cheek, comic send up like REPO MAN!

This is not a fun movie to watch. It's not funny like THE BIG LEBOWSKI, and it's not tragic like CHINATOWN. Yet you can see in every scene how Harper influenced these later classics.

The problem is, Harper is not heroic, or even funny. He scolds a sexy teenager for dancing around in her bikini. He scolds a lady jazz singer for doing drugs. He scolds his best buddy for falling in love with the teenager in the bikini. He scolds his wife for not loving him enough. He scolds everyone but doesn't care about anyone except himself. There was another movie just like this that came out in 1966. It was called A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS. Harper is to private eyes what Sir Thomas More was to statesmen. They both look sour and disappointed all the time. But at least Sir Thomas More gets his head chopped off at the end!

Absolutely beautiful holiday film, set in 1904 and based on the best selling books for children. Perky little Anna Sophia Robb, sultry and auburn-haired Rebecca Mader, and stately old Mia Farrow completely nail the loyalty and friendship between three generations of well-off women, each of whom (in their own way) make the holidays brighter for the less fortunate. What makes the movie a classic is that when Samantha visits the orphanage and the factory, no punches are pulled. This isn't a Christmas Carol! The escape from the orphanage is a great action sequence. And it's not cute. It's suspenseful and almost painful to watch.

A classic all around.

Forget it, Bone. It's Chinatown.

Cool Hand Luke sees Boss Godfrey ("the man with no eyes") at Noah Cross' big fiesta. Immediately he realizes that nothing is a mighty cool hand. With his best friend Eric Cartman, he cooks up a brilliant lil' scheme to make Scott Trenorman spill the beans about who got us into Vietnam. Chaos ensues as Captain Ahab cries "thar she blows" and Sheriff Will Kane rides his white horse Silver right into Xanadu, exposing the horrible truth that "they" are to blame. For everything!

Yeah, I get that it's a cult film. That doesn't mean it's actually good. So much is missing, like a hero you can respect. And a story you can believe. Jeff Bridges sure looked good with his shirt off, though. Back in the day!

It's Deliverance, Charlie Brown! You get to play the game, Charlie Brown! Now squeal like the pig you are, Charlie Brown!

The Sixties were the Golden Age for Peanuts lovers. By 1977 The magic was clearly fading, as both the daily strip and the feature films shifted from introspection and genuine emotion to slam-bang action and cheap external conflicts with various cardboard characters.

Charlie Brown and his gang go white-water rafting, and end up in the middle of nowhere. Just like Deliverance! A gang of creepy outsiders starts to pursue them. Just like Deliverance. Brown and his soft city kids show unexpected courage. Just like Deliverance! At the end the bullies are humiliated and the city kids win. Just like . . . Well, you get the idea.

So where were the banjos?

I love the remake with Robert DeNiro and Nick Nolte, but this version just didn't work for me. Not that I have anything against Robert Mitchum, mind you. Even as a very old man in The Winds Of War, he's the most effortlessly masculine actor I've ever seen.

The problem is, Max Cady is more than just a masculine man. He's a force of demonic evil, with a brilliant mind and a very intense sense of how he's been wronged. Robert DeNiro was able to play the character as not only cruel and evil, but literate, articulate, and complex. Robert Mitchum doesn't have the same brilliant dialogue to work with. All he can do to suggest he's evil is to take his shirt off in every scene.

Somebody must have got a big kick out of that!

This is the slowest, most depressing period picture I have ever seen! I was so hoping that Scarlett would play someone sweet and fun, a bouncy girl who's an underdog with a heart of gold. Someone like Kit Tyler in THE WITCH OF BLACKBIRD POND.

But no! This girl is gloomy all the time, even when people aren't picking on her. The setting is Holland, in the 1600s, and she's living in the home of a famous painter. And everyone is mean to her. All the time!

And the painter is a total wimp.

Is there a point to this movie? I really hated it. It made me sad, and at the same time it was boring. Really, really boring!

I've always been impressed with the way these shows draw inspiration from classic American literature. On Breaking Bad Walt and Jesse find freedom from nagging wives and failed family relationships in the desert, just the way Huck and Jim find freedom on the Big River. ("Come back to the RV again, Jesse honey!")

In this episode, Jimmy and Kim are as full of mischief as Tom and Huck at the end of Huckleberry Finn. But their mischief has a purpose. Just as Tom and Huck stage an elaborate charade to terrorize the local farmers and spring Jim from captivity, Jimmy and Kim set up an entire imaginary backstory to keep Huell out of jail.

Tom and Huck can only free Jim after they've created a whole new identity for him. He's not a runaway slave, he's the Lost Dauphin. He's the Count of Monte Cristo! Everything they do is designed to make Jim seem like he's really someone else. Someone who really *deserves* rescuing.

I wish I could say that Jimmy and Kim approach their mischief differently, but they don't. They try to make Huell into someone who matters by pretending he's somebody different from who he really is. Instead of asking the tough questions about what his life back in Louisiana was really like, they invent a fairy tale about life in an idyllic town where everybody loved him. And notice that Huell never gets a chance to tell his own story. Accepting the second chance that his white benefactors offer him means keeping quiet about who he really is.

This is a fun episode that's exciting to watch. But the more you think about it, the more disturbing it is. And that's what makes Better Call Saul such a great show!

So there I was, the only Irish lad in Cambridge. How did I get in? I never had any money. Also I never seemed to study, but at least nobody ever made fun of me clothes, me religion, or me accent. And me so poor and stupid!

And then one night for no reason at all, the most gorgeous girl in the world pushed her way into me room. She said her name was Gilda, and she liked men. A lot! So me and Gilda, we went at it for a bit, but then she went to Paris. And I went to Paris. And there was lots of pictures taken, of us dancing and having sex and drinking, and Gilda said she only wanted fun, fun, fun until her daddy takes the T-Bird away.

So then the most beautiful Spanish girl in the world came to Paris, and it was me and Gilda and Mia having sex for hours, for no reason except we were young and in Paris and we looked gorgeous together in bed. And then Hitler's voice came on the radio saying the movie had been going on for over an hour already, and nothing was happening except girls in gorgeous clothes and tons of dancing and sex, and he was bored out of his mind.

So then Mia and me, we went to Spain, and there was snow on the ground. And people were dying everywhere! So then Mia and me made love and she said life only mattered when you believed in something. But she didn't say what exactly. And then she got killed!

Without girls walking into my room every night for sex, England was a bore. So I went and joined the army. Another war soon started, over Hitler going on the radio too often. Or something. And then I was back in Paris, as a spy, only everyone in my neighborhood knew me and thought I was a hero. And they hated Gilda for having sex with this German lad in Hitler's army, only it turned out she was a spy too, and so clever they could never catch her. Like if her German was talking on the phone she'd listen in, and then close her eyes and pretend to be asleep. Really clever!

So then there was a lot of shooting, and people being drowned in bath tubs, and on the last day of the war the French underground people took Gilda away for looking too gorgeous in every single scene. But she left me a note saying don't you forget about me. Don't, don't, don't, don't you, forget about me. Because fighting against fate is important. It's for mankind, or something. For we are the champions, my friend. And we'll keep on fighting till the end!

I'm not going to trash the whole series. There were some great rumbles, epic gunfights, and ruthless bad men writing a history of honor and passion in the blood of their enemies. Lalo, Nacho, and Gus all deserve MVP honors for this show.

But it was a mistake to make Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman into something more than comic relief. This episode is the ultimate last-ditch effort to give Saul gravitas, and it doesn't work.

Having Saul turn down a sweet deal to embrace martyrdom, in order to protect a woman he's never going to see again, is not only childish and simplistic. It's melodramatic and predictable. In THE GODFATHER II Frank "Five Angels" Pentangeli pulls a similar last-minute switch. Anyone who's seen that movie -- and that's just about everyone -- could see this "twist" coming a mile away.

But Frankie Five Angels is an old-school gent from the word go. He's been established very clearly as a "Moustache Pete" who plays by rules established centuries ago in Sicily. His honorable behavior in the courtroom makes sense. The shock comes from the fact that this old-school gent is not only honorable but fast on his feet, able to outthink a room full of lawyers and stop on a dime. In a way he's like Jack in Hemingway's story "Fifty Grand." ("Funny how you can think so fast with so much at stake." "You're some boy, Jack." "It was nothing.")

Well, Saul is not Frankie Five Angels. He's not Jack. He's always been a sleazy opportunist and his redemption at the end is sheer sentimentality. And no offense, but it's a very Catholic form of sentimentality. He's fixed it up so he's "married" to Kim forever, but sex is never going to happen. We're supposed to believe that Saul and Kim are going to stay celibate forever, and that's their triumph. Because sex is dirty, see. And now they're clean. They've renounced crime, and they've renounced sex, because really, sex between a man and a woman is more disgusting than any scam.

Give me a Catholic crime epic with Catholics who aren't quite so prim. Paging Frankie Five Angels!

Daisy Ridley is amazing but when you make Ophelia into Buffy Hamlet automatically turns into Xander. The other characters suffer too.

Clive Owen has a very Alan Rickman vibe. But he plays the younger, sleazier Claudius in ways that are more laughable than menacing. No longer a fat tyrant who likes to drink, this is a lean, mean villain who sprints through the woods in search of poison. Uh, okay then.

And Naomi Watts as Gertrude, another fiasco. I mean, I get that she's weak. But why make her some kind of drug addict? To prove what?

I don't want to give away the ending. Certain people live happily ever after, and they make new friends. But nuns? Really? They don't slap her around for being loose? They welcome her no questions asked, when she's big with child? "Oh, I'm a widow." "Sure you are. Now let me hit you with a ruler." Paging Mary Gordon!

PS The play-within-the-play is brilliantly staged. It's almost like they read Shakespeare's play!

The Great Nazby by Adolph Hitler Fitzgerald

Putrid melodrama with tons of fabulous period dresses for Keira Knightley to slink around in. Alexander Skarsgard looks fabulous in a white jumper and lounges around trading sly glances with the bored British wife. There's lots of snow on the ground. Jason Clarke is in there somewhere, playing the ultimate chump, a guy somewhere between Tom Buchanan and Captain Dana "Dynamite" Holmes. Don't expect any of this to mean anything, because it doesn't. I swear to God, Keira Knightly approaches every picture like it's a photo shoot for Vogue.

On that level, and on that level only, this movie is a classic.

Killer cast, a caper for the ages, and a look, sound, and style that influenced a generation of top filmmakers worldwide.

Love the surging score, the frantic tension bubbling underneath every scene. It's clearly the inspiration for the opening titles in Mel Gibson's PAYBACK!

Thrill to the chemistry of the highly disciplined team of killers, using color-coded names and working as one, until they don't. Reservoir Dogs, here we come!

Watch for theater great Tom Pedi, the man who practically invented the role of Rocky the bartender in Eugene O'Neill's THE ICEMAN COMETH. That's him trying to board the subway car single handed. More guts than Harry Hope or the rest of these bums, that's for sure!

NYC is full of lovable cynics who despise high-flown rhetoric but will always put their lives on the line when it counts. Twenty years of LAW&ORDER recycled the same sensibility, over and over and over.

Great movie, full of nonstop thrills, action, and suspense. Just wish there'd been a couple of pretty girls along for the ride!

Such a disappointment! I loved McDonald's as a kid. And I love Michael Keaton as an actor. But this ham-handed biopic demonizes Ray Kroc and hits every stale, tired cheap shot you can possibly imagine. Does Kroc cheat the little guy? Does Kroc cheat on his wife? Is he obnoxious and shallow? What do you think, Jedediah? It's like Citizen Kane, only boring and stupid!

We can only guess that this man is charming, because we never see it. So his ability to con people for years makes no sense. And then suddenly, he's a charming ladies man who sits down at the piano and sings a duet! Where did that come from, Jedediah?

Not an original moment in this movie. And they never did explain why McDonald's Burgers taste so good.

Don't be fooled by George C. Scott's blowhard reputation. This is a complex and intelligently written ghost story that delivers chills, horror, suspense, and sadness. And a very pointed commentary on capitalism and the American dream!

George C. Scott plays John Russell, a grieving professor who rents an old haunted house in the Pacific Northwest. Little by little, he begins to realize that the ghost keeping him up at night is no fun-loving poltergeist, but the spirit of a wronged child with a tragic backstory rooted in the robber baron greed of the Victorian era. This kid makes Tiny Tim look like Dennis the Menace!

Through much of the movie, George C. Scott function more as a detective than a grief-haunted victim. He's probing for answers on behalf of a ghost who helps him out with clues. And he's ably assisted by the lovely real estate agent who rented him the house, (elegantly played by Scott's real life wife, the stunning Trish Van Devere.) The irony is that this movie, while a chilling ghost story, actually has more in common with CHINATOWN than THE EXORCIST.

The horrible crime that took place in the old house will shock you, and sadden you. But what really horrifies and sickens is the post-Watergate cynicism that Scott's character encounters. Just about everyone in town, it appears, is part of a Nixon-style cover up. The crime against the little boy, so long ago, is as ancient as Cain and Abel, or Jacob and Esau. But the modern cover up is right out of Chinatown, by way of Watergate. And the flaming retribution at the end is very satisfying!

Special footnote: Melvyn Douglas is the old time actor who plays the Noah Cross like Senator. And he knows about lies and capitalism. His wife was Congresswoman Helen Douglas, the "Pink Lady" who was shamed and driven from public life by lying and shifty-eyed Richard Nixon!

Thought this movie would be a real stinker, but parts of it aren't really that bad. Early on, there's some truly uproarious comedy, of the totally unintentional kind. Watch the husband's heart attack on the plane. It is so poorly staged, and it is such an obvious plot device! (I mean, you know Vivien won't have much fun in Rome if her husband is still breathing.)

So, on to Rome. Mrs. Stone is sweet and wistful, and she falls languidly into an affair with Paolo, a slimy looking Warren Beatty. He does the worst Italian accent in history! And he looks as Italian as Jefferson Davis. The irony is, Paolo takes his orders from Countess Magda, played by Lotte Lenya. And Lotte is sensational! So down to earth, and yet so wildly over the top. So full of energy and with a wicked sense of humor. The only problem is, she's supposed to be the villain. And by the end you'll be cheering only for her.

Louis Armstrong said it best. "Look out for Miss Lotte Lenya!"

You know the movie is in trouble when Jack Klugman gives the best performance. He really gets the meaning of "goniff." And he drives it home!

If this is Philip Roth's Great Gatsby, you can see where the problem lies. Jay Gatsby adores Daisy Buchanan. He forgives her mistakes. He's hurt by her but he never judges her. But the hero in this dreary story has already judged the girl the minute he walks into her house. He doesn't worship her. He thinks he's better then she is. So how can you believe she's hurt him? Or that when she rejects him he's losing something precious? This movie actually sneers at the idea of loss. And the idea of nostalgia. And the title refers to a college, not an explorer.

I'm not a Salinger fan by any means, so if I loved this movie it must have something going for it. Danny Strong is one of the best writers in Hollywood, and he creates a fast-moving and compulsively watchable story about a young man burning with ambition. Only young J. D. Salinger's ambition is not for wealth and fame. He wants to write a great book, and he wants to do it his way.

Nothing is more boring than watching writers write in a movie. But Danny Strong manages to make it exciting because we actually see Salinger learning from his mistakes and even more tellingly, learning to accept criticism from his mentor, his agent, and his publisher. By the time he's come back from the war, badly shell-shocked, and has to literally learn how to write all over again, you're completely in his corner. And the movie feels more like ROCKY than SYLVIA.

So why didn't I give this movie ten stars? Well, for one thing, too many of the party scenes looked like advertisements for alcohol and tobacco products. Late in the film, Salinger finds a guru who tells him to give up all "distractions," but it's telling that they never discuss cigarettes and alcohol as problems in their own right. Because of course nobody ever heard of a great writer succumbing to alcoholism.

The other problem is the supporting cast. They're not bad, they're sensational. Kevin Spacey plays the Columbia writing professor like he's lovable old Mr. Chips. But it's a palpable schoolboy fantasy. I went to Columbia, and let me tell you, most English professors were closer to the Drill Instructor in Kubrick's FULL METAL JACKET. No matter what kind of work you turned in, they always made you feel like Private Pyle. Nobody was looking to uncover any geniuses when I was there, and nobody ever did!

Then there's Sarah Paulson as Dorothy, the world's most sultry and stunning literary agent. She's got the goods, all right. And she plays every scene like she's Lauren Bacall putting the moves on Bogart in TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT. The problem is, young J. D. Salinger is not Bogart. He's closer to Wilmer in THE MALTESE FALCON. So when Dorothy caresses him with casual endearments like "my darling," and "my love," you feel like it's either crude manipulation or writer Danny Strong giving in to his own teenage fantasies. It would have been nice to see Dorothy buttering up other writers, or maybe just making with the golf sticks, like the agent in SUNSET BOULEVARD.

So overall, a fun movie with a lot of excitement, but not really as hard hitting as it pretends to be. Holden saw phonies everywhere, but this movie pretends they don't exist. It's really pretty goddamn shallow, if you want to know the truth.

As an elegy for Burt Lancaster, its a five star classic. He really makes the most of every second he has on screen, relishing the salty language, the understated regrets, and generally saying goodbye to the role of lover, warrior, and tough guy. The story telling is poignant, and the young cast of unknowns really works together well.

On the other hand, the low budget is really obvious, especially towards the end. All the soldiers have late Seventies hair cuts, which is strange since the movie is set in 1964. Even the super tough Vietnamese mercenary is obviously trying to look like Bruce Lee, which is strange because in 1964 he was still doing stunt work and wearing a chauffeur's cap on the Green Hornet.

I always pictured Randolph Scott as a really rustic type, like Gabby Hayes or Chill Wills. He's actually very good looking and sophisticated with the ladies, more like Errol Flynn than John Wayne!

There are a lot of good things about this version of the classic story. Alice and Cora are more playful and more talkative than they are in the 1992 version. They're more like Carole Lombard in MY MAN GODFREY! The only problem is, in this scavenger hunt the prize is their scalps.

Bruce Cabot is great as Magua, but he's still not as good as Wes Studi in the 1992 version. Magua is better played by an older actor who can depict the rage that is building up over a period of years. Bruce Cabot just comes across as full of energy and ambition, without any real personal sense of injury.

But the main problem with this old fashioned version is way everything is shot in daylight, and the woods never seem menacing, and the music sounds downright silly. The 1992 version actually feels "older," if not timeless, because so much of the story is told by music and by images, and by looks rather than words.

Rain People is a movie with lots of style, but it's strangely lifeless and lacking in heart. There are at least three great performances, but strangely they don't bring you any closer to the characters.

Natalie is a beautiful blonde housewife on the run from a suffocating marriage. She's a very typical Sixties heroine, and the late Ms. Knight gives a sensitive performance. But Coppola just has no patience with the character. She keeps explaining how weak and helpless she is, and at first it seems ironic. But by the end of the movie you can see that Coppola isn't being ironic. He really believes this woman is just a spoiled baby who needs to be told what to do.

You can see why in his greatest films, the women are all silent, subservient and weak.

As someone who taught this book several times in a couple of different schools, I have to say I was pretty disappointed with the Gary Sinise version of the story.

Ironically, Sinise himself is perfect. He really captures George's resentment, his growing frustration, the sense that he'd just as soon be rid of Lennie. Sinise makes you feel that it's not just talk when he talks about getting rid of Lennie.

The problem is, John Malkovich tries too hard to be cute. He tries too hard to be likeable. And he's nowhere near big enough, menacing enough, or brutal enough, for the tragic ending to be believable.

Sherilyn Fenn is lovely and has a great wistful sadness as Curley's wife. That's a credit to her acting. But it totally subverts the meaning of the book. Steinbeck hates women. He blames them for wanting sex. And he blames them for everything that takes men away from each other. He writes this character to be utterly hateful from start to finish. But Sherilyn Fenn makes her appealing and Gary Sinise lets her. Probably they both sensed that a modern audience simply wouldn't handle all the woman-hatred that the book truly embodies.

It's like they had to put Steinbeck down for his own good!