the week in review (5/23/04 - 5/29/04)

I've been devouring an awful lot of movies lately, mostly on video. I feel like I'm starting to turn into Jeremy Heilman, only, you know, without the smarts. I have to say, I'm enjoying this bit of cinematic gluttony; the constant indulgence in narrative creates a hypnotic state that juices up the screenwriting portion of my mind. Or maybe that's just fatigue. Anyway, I'm gonna try and keep up the pace, at least until we move into the new apartment (Hello, Ballard!). Here's what I saw this last week:

The Last Picture Show (1971, Peter Bogdanovich) (v) 97
I'm thinking that ratings of 97 or higher are for movies that are so stupendous, they inspire me as a budding filmmaker, even as I suspect I'll never, ever reach their heights. This might be the best drama ever: intelligent writing, amazing cinematography (it looks like it could've been made in the 50s, except for the brilliant addition of explicit sexuality), and every performance a bullseye. Best moment: Cloris Leachman holding Timothy Bottoms close so he can't see her tears.

Cowards Bend The Knee (2003, Guy Maddin) (f) 83
The Saddest Music in the World (2004, Guy Maddin) (f) 81

Perhaps more later; I'm writing these out of order, and I'm tired. I will say that I saw these as a double-feature of sorts, Music first, and I could easily imagine the ratings switched around had I seen Cowards first.

Dressed to Kill (1980, Brian DePalma) [unrated version] (v) 80
Falls off after the hour mark, and the final scene is like an overindulgent bonus track on an otherwise-good CD, but until then...wow. I thought I was going to have to wipe sweat from the TV after the opening scene, and the near-silent twenty(?) minute sequence, from the museum to the elevator -- that's what people mean by "pure cinema", I think. Also interesting in that the clues to the killer's identity are presented not so much through physical evidence, but cinematically, through the directorial manipulation of visuals and sound.

Great Expectations (1946, David Lean) (v) 77
Man, Dickens was one sick puppy. Old, bitter woman emotionally-engineering a girl to break men's hearts? Death-masks and mass hangings? Death by burning wedding dress? Admittedly, it's all cut through by Pip's good deed, an action as steeped in humanity as it is lacking in common sense. You always know there's a compassionate hand underneath the dark details of the story. But this shit's fucked up, yo. Dude really was the Stephen King of his time.

All The President's Men (1976, Alan J. Pakula) (v) 65
As intriguing as a movie about making phone calls can be, but once it's over and nothing happens, it's like an equation that solves itself and disappears. Great direction, though.

Five Deadly Venoms (1978, Chang Cheh) (v) 63
Criminally slow, it seems, for a martial arts movie, and I was distracted by hearing Wu-Tang samples in their original context ("Toad-style is immensely strong, and immune to nearly any weapon. When it's properly used, it's almost invincible." RAW, I'ma give it to ya, with no trivia... ahem, excuse me). But the comic-book tropes (the names, the super-powers, the "Hey, let's you and me team up and kick ass!") are irresistible.

Secret Fest #1 (can't tell, won't tell) (f) 59

All About My Mother (1999, Pedro Almodóvar) (v) 58
Admittedly, I didn't scan that many reviews, but it seems like no one mentioned the clear reference to Opening Night. Or am I the only other person who's seen Opening Night? Oh yeah, the movie. I like melodrama as much as the next guy, but this one started to try my patience by the end.

Eyes of Laura Mars (1978, Irvin Kershner) (v) 45
Saw this because I was under the impression that its hook was similar to one Martin and I used in our screenplay Yellow. Turns out it's kinda like it, but not really. (How's that for stupidly vague?) Not awful as far as serial killer movies go, but it's way too logy to build up any real suspense, and I think the identity of the killer was decided by a coin toss. (Heh. I'm sure the same criticisms could be hurled at Yellow.) Bonus points for some character stuff (and it helps if you think Rene Auberjonois is a hoot, like I do), and for the fact that Raul Julia is mysteriously and hilariously credited as "R.J."

High Anxiety (1977, Mel Brooks) (v) 39
The hit/miss joke ratio is about 1:100, and the structure is...well, there is no structure. But this is Mel Brooks, so all that's a given. No, what sinks this is the unconscionably flat lighting and dull, dull, dull cinematography. Hitchcock movies are lush. Where's the care for detail that went into Young Frankenstein? Madeline Kahn = Awesome, though.

Where we saw it: week in review | We deign to rate it: outta 100
Posted by kza at 03:40 AM | Comments (4)