Author: kbarrillea

her – modern commentary on our self imposed solitary confinement

SHORT TAKE:

Spike Jonze’s quirky and occasionally disturbing tale of a man’s love affair with his – computer’s operating system.

WHO SHOULD WATCH:

Adults only for language, verbally graphic phone sex (you heard me right), and at least one instance of a crudely vulgar sexual drawing.

LONG TAKE:

Joaquin Phoenix and Scarlett Johansson are two of my favorite actors. Their ability to be personally engaging and draw the audience in to their characters is exquisite. So it is ironic that they play characters who are each, in their own way, completely and almost totally isolated from the rest of the world.

SPOILERS

her (the lack of capitals is the accurate spelling of the title of this movie) is the story of Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix), devastated from a badly disintegrating marriage and resultant separation, who has withdrawn from the world with the exception of: his married childhood friend, Amy (Amy Adams), his creepily awkward coworker Paul (pre-Starlord, Chris Pratt), and the occasional contact with anonymous and very weird phone sex partners (Kristen Wiig whose peculiar brand of demented humor has her on SNL’s crew).

To displace him one step further from real human contact, Theodore’s job is to write psuedo-intimate letters on behalf of other people: between lovers, from grandchildren to their elder relatives, thank you notes, congratulations. So not only does he keep himself at a tent pole’s distance from interacting with real people but his job is to facilitate the same for dozens, if not hundreds, of other clients. And it is additionally disturbing that the demand for this service is such that Theodore can afford a rather high end apartment.

Enter Samantha, an operating system powered by an artificial intelligence. More than HAL from 2001, Samantha has intuition, insight and sensitivity (or at least she would pass the Turing test with flying colors). And it’s understandable, even predictable, that desperately lonely and imaginative Theo would develop an extreme attachment to this disembodied empathetic new presence in his life.

Lest one scoff at this sort of relationship, think hard about what item would cause you the most panic if lost and how many times have you heard people say their phone had their whole lives on it. Pictures, calendars, access to worldwide information, communication with distant friends and relatives, banking transactions, movies, college classes, Youtubes – all there and more at your fingertips through the window of this small box. It is a very tiny leap to imagine that a next generation Alexa, devised with sufficiently complex programmed personality, might become the object of affection by the growing multitude of the isolated and socially displaced, in our emphatically electronic virtual culture. This self-inflicted dysfunction, close to the surface in 2013 when her was released, has been dramatically exacerbated by the misanthropic Wuhan rules which require the kind of social desolation normally associated with extreme penal punishment and Mengele-style brainwashing techniques intended to deliberately create psychoses.

The music by Arcade Fire is composed mostly of single notes and dissonant electronic chords, played slowly and mournfully with tiny hints of variation, like a subdued victim of deep depression, who is occasionally distracted by someone else’s smile or a brief flash of color.

And speaking of color, blue is almost completely avoided as Jonze thought that color too cliche in a science fiction movie. The resulting red tinge creates an uneasy subliminal visual, as though Theo was constantly bleeding out the pain from his heart.

Johansson shines with just her voice as the female protagonist/computer. She is enchanting, vibrant, funny, soothing and delightfully elfin, despite the significant disadvantage of never being seen.

Phoenix is at his most subdued as Theodore, and as such is mesmerizing, saying more in long pauses and subtle changes of expression than most actors can in pages of dialogue and open physical emoting. His performance is like studying a beautiful classical portrait. Johansson’s is like listening to a human musical instrument as her voice changes from sultry to child-like at the turn of a phrase.

Amy Adams’ part is small but touching as another character who is heart broken and dislocated from the human race, set adrift by the sudden separation from her husband.

I applaud Spike Jonze, writer/director, for addressing this unsettling trend head on. While it is quaint for people to wax whimsically about pre-text and pre-email communication, the rest of the world is not content to patiently wait days for a response, as was the case when the handwritten letter was the norm. Computerized electronic information access and transmission is now expected and essential but a gateway to the creation of these chasms between personal contact. So this issue is not likely to go away any time soon. I love the instant response of telecommunication too, but need to remind myself, as should you, to occasionally put down the electronics and speak directly to the people around you. They will give you an instant response too if you give them a chance.

While not wanting to give too much away I will encourage you, of the appropriate demographic group, to watch it, by saying there is a hopeful ending. Suffice it to say that while an artificial intelligence might enchant you with a virtual representation of anything you could imagine, there really is nothing that can replace the simple touch of holding another human being’s hand.

THE BOYS – BAD SUPER-ANTI-HERO SHOW

SHORT TAKE:

Cynical and gratuitously perverted view of super hero concept, following The Boys – a human led group, bent on vengeance against the evil enhanced and the corporation which produces, protects, promotes, and profits from them.

WHO SHOULD WATCH

Not fit for human consumption – nor for non-humans neither.

LONG TAKE

The idea of humans seeking to uncover corrupt behavior of enhanced people is an interesting one. After all: “Power corrupts and absolute power — ”

The possibility of a rogue super hero is not a new one. The comics have explored this, especially concerning the almost invincible Superman in stories about everything from alternate universes to the random effects of red Kryptonite. And in the Justice League comics Batman carries green Kryptonite in his utility belt — just in case. And that’s not even bringing up the extremely disturbing Brightburn.

But The Boys takes it too far. Whereas Superman’s darker side manifestations are aberrations, in The Boys the incidents of drug abuse, sexual depravity, disregard for non-enhanced human life, murder and rape are par for the course with The Seven, a corporate sponsored set of “supes” whose public persona is a thin veil over people whose abuse of powers are quite literally – nauseating. From group orgies to the unrepentent liquification of a human when run through by a variation on The Flash, these are nobodies idea of heroes.

The Boys is an underground organization of humans, occasionally helped by a few supes with a modicum of conscience, who seek to expose and end both the supes and Vought International, a corporation which not only promotes and profits from these scum in supes’ clothing, but may have created the supes with a drug called Compound V.

There are no good guys in The Boys. No one and nothing to cheer for and no moral center.

Karl Urban (Lord of the Rings) chews a lot of scenery as Billy Butcher, the ringleader of The Boys with a personal ax to grind against the supes. He is aided by Hughie Campbell (Jack Quaid – son of Dennis Quaid and Meg Ryan) bent on revenge for the death of his fiancee by A Train. Elisabeth Shue (the second Jennifer in the Back to the Future trilogy) plays Madelyn Stillwell, the scheming corporate PR/VP at Vought. The supes are played by actors with unnotable resumes including soap operas and bit parts. The resulting ensemble performances are nothing to write home about.

The most love the creators gave this misbegotten insult to the genre is the special effects rendered for the gore and powered perversion.

Anyone can write to play down to the lowest level of human impulses. But it takes thought and decent writing to craft a story which strives to teach lessons which ennoble the human spirit and encourage our better angels. This was the original intent of the creation of characters like Superman – to be the embodiment of our better natures and examples for, well, Truth, Justice and The American Way.

The Boys is just the next acid bead in the continuing drip drip of denigration oozing out of the anti-culturalists, those who would sneer at American traditions, including patriotism, religious affiliation, respect for the marital union and even the dignity of innocent unborn life.

And it’s not even good quality. Give The Boys a — super — wide berth.

AGENTS OF SHIELD – SO LONG, FAREWELL

SHORT TAKE:

Popular TV show spin-off from The Avengers movies, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. finishes with class and grace after a seven year run.

WHO SHOULD WATCH:

Most episodes are appropriate for any age. But there are a few which include: loose sexual relationships, scenes of violence and/or death of regular characters, and disturbing familial dysfunction. So, as always, more mature guardians should be the gatekeepers here, though expect that most shows will be family viewing.

LONG TAKE:

SPOILERS AND SPOILERS – IT’S INEVITABLE WHEN DISCUSSING A SHOW THIS LONG RUNNING

My father was a science fiction fan extraordinaire. He had closets full of paperbacks, all alphabetized for easy reference. He had an incredible collection of really old large format pulp magazines from the 1930’s and 1940’s like Astounding and Amazing. They were not made for longevity but quick sales and even though he lovingly preserved them in zip lock bags, by the time I was around they were so brittle, just turning their pages risked their crumbling to pieces.

My Dad could rattle off and speak with some authority on authors like Heinlein, Asimov, E.E. “Doc” Smith, and Burroughs. And he would always have one of his favorites, like Smith’s Skylark or Lensmen series, in his back pocket to pull out and keep him company. They would companion him in a dental waiting room or while eating lunch or stuck in traffic or even just drifting off to sleep at night. He said re-reading these classic gems were like “visiting old friends”.

There are sci fi shows I feel this way about too, such as Tennant’s Dr Who, and Star Trek both TOS and Next Generation. Another one of those series which has, over the years, garnered both my respect and affection is Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. A spin off show based upon the secret organization officially led by Nick Fury (the eye-patched Samuel L. Jackson from The Avengers) but managed, in fact, by the ultimate super hero wrangler –

Phil Coulson (Clark Gregg). Coulson “died” in The Avengers. Coulson was, to quote Coulson “shanked by the Asgardian Mussolini” (referring to Tom Hiddleson’s Loki), and his purported death was used by Fury as a catalyst for the unification of the disparate, bickering mighty warriors. The murder of their “mascot” inspired them to forge a united front which was breakable only from within their own ranks later in Civil War.

However, the character of Coulson was so popular among fans that the brothers Whedon decided to create a show with him in the lead. AOS was clever, occasionally self-aware, followed storylines that had to scramble to keep up, sometimes at the “last minute” in the wake of the Marvel super hero movies, and accommodate to the needs of their big screen siblings – such as the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D. after the Sokovia Accords and the discovery of HYDRA agents embedded within S.H.I.E.L.D. AOS rolled with the punches. It featured inventive bad guys, martial arts women in leather outfits, space ships, laser weapons, alien artifacts, dangerous A.I.s, clever quips and a flying car. But their greatest strength was never taking themselves too seriously. One of the opening scenes of the pilot helped set the mood for the rest of its seven year run. Maria Hill (Cobie Smulders), while interviewing Grant Ward (Brett Dalton) for a position with S.H.I.E.L.D. asks Ward what S.H.I.E.L.D. stands for. He replies: “Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.” She follows up with: “And what does that mean to you?” To which Ward quips: “It means someone really wanted our initials to spell out “S.H.I.E.L.D.”

AOS dealt with the unlikely to the ridiculous: from gravitonium powered anti-heroes to the supernatural

Ghost Rider (Gabriel Luna). From mutants with super powers to Nazi hold overs. From aliens to time travel. And the writers never backed down from even the most preposterous situations. They addressed them head on, usually with some pithy comments from Coulson. They respected their material and treated the situations seriously but never ignored or took for granted the fact that sometimes the circumstances were, indeed, bizarre.

While their strength was in humor their charm was the familial feel they brought to their team. While Coulson was never without a “Dad joke”, appropriate for the paternal figure he came to be, he ensured there would be fairness and discipline in the ranks.

Coulson’s right hand, stalwart back watcher, friend and sometimes Jiminy Cricket conscience was the beautiful but dour faced Agent Melinda May (Ming-Na Wen). Reluctantly carrying the nickname “The Cavalry” she was the protector, and S.O. or supervising officer for the new recruits.

Then there was Fitz-Simmons, actually two geniuses:

Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons (respectively, Iain De Caestecker and Elizabeth Henstridge), a techie and a biologist, best friends since school whose relationship later blossomed into romance.

Ward was the big brother muscle and

Sky (Chloe Bennet) the little sister with more skill than common sense. At least this is how they started.

Another virtue of the show is they never let their characters stay put. Lack of routine was the norm. True to the Whedons – never get REALLY attached to any character as you will eventually lose them in surprising and shocking ways – either from death or personality development, but that is part of the creative attraction to the show. You were never allowed to get comfortable with a character, even if they DIDN’T do a Whedon and get killed off unexpectedly.

Reliable, boring, by-the-book,

Ward turned out to be a

double agent for HYDRA (the bad guy new age Nazis) barely holding his psychosis in check.

Fitz, the mousy tech hid a ruthless

Mengele-like aspect to his personality, inherited from his father and which, in one time stream, led him to be a megalomaniac super villain and in another time line, a savvy pragmatic leader.

Sky started out as an anti-establishment computer hacker,

who turned out to be the daughter of a powerful enhanced villain but then used her new found powers to become a top agent in the organization she initially tried to expose.

The enhanced

Jeffery Mace (Jason O’Mara), who led S.H.I.E.L.D. briefly after Coulson stepped down, turned out to be a chemically boosted fraud intended as a PR stunt.

Mack (Henry Simmons), the devout Christian mechanic, happy with being in the background, later became the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Elena “Yo-Yo” (Natalia Cordova-Buckley), a mistrustful independent street fighter whose hyper human speed would have given Flash a run (literally) for his money, became a cyborg and one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s top agents.

And then there’s Coulson.

Coulson just kept – well, coming back. He was stabbed through the heart and brought back with alien blood. After succumbing to a degenerative side effect FROM the alien blood he then returned as the subconscious embodiment of an invading alien scout. Cut in half by Melinda May he returned as an L.M.D. (computer A.I.). Blown up he appeared once again in a digitized fashion as a

Max Headroom homage, then was graced with a new

L.M.D. body courtesy of Simmons. He died dozens of times during a time loop but because he, alone, could remember all of the loop incarnations was able to stop that merri-go-round. Talk about not being able to keep a good man down! As Coulson put it: “Dying, it’s kind of my super power.”

Then there were the characters who worked their way into the group but then were snatched away by the writers, by death or unavoidable circumstance: the optimist Trip, the unlucky Rosalind (Constance Zimmer) Coulson’s romantic interest, the Koenig triplets, the married

Bobbie and Lance Hunter (Adrienne Palicki and Nick Blood) who, while devoted to each other, made the Bickersons look happily married.

AOS went on for seven seasons. Like any show it had its good and bad installments. But overall AOS, when looked at all in one piece, was a single story of: fortitude in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, self-sacrifice, altruism, protection of freedom, and defense of the weaker and innocent. Basically the fundamental motto of the Grandaddy of all Superheroes – Superman: Truth, Justice and the American Way.

And I loved the fact that, like the characters in Galaxy Quest, they believed: “Never give up! Never surrender!” And like Kirk and Spock, characters from (assuming you could be from another galaxy yourself and not know who they are) the Star Trek Universe, (the show on which Galaxy Quest was based), the characters on AOS never accepted a no-win scenario and never lost faith in the possibility of an alternative solution no matter how dire the situation.

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. plays out like one long – very long (99 hour) – movie. Each season has a distinct arc, mission to accomplish, challenge to overcome, and puzzle to solve. And no matter the unusual challenge:

enslaved by Kree in outer space, trapped in a virtual evil alternate universe, or simply dealing with an “epidemic” of new “enhanced” people, the core characters remain familiar but never grow stagnant or stale. They grew and evolved, like a kaleidoscope whose colors are always the same but evoke dynamic patterns.

The science fiction is solid, relying on the tech we have now but anticipating advances,

like “icer” guns which are more advanced tazers, androids and Chronicoms which anticipate human looking A.I.s, and planes which can negotiate space as well as atmosphere.

The theme music and soundtrack by Bear McCreary and Jason Akers, brass heavy and heroic, have the familiar Marvel Universe feel.

The final season was a doozy. Knowing they were winding up almost a decade of storylines, the writers

Joss and Jed Whedon, and actors simply had WAY too much fun. Time travel was the name of the game and with each passing decade the show immersed itself in wonderfully eccentric ways with tongue VERY firmly planted in cheek. For example,

the show set in the 1930’s was black and white with accompanying narrative, the affectation ultimately given a scientific explanation.

The season set in the 1970’s not only featured the tacky clothes and grainier film quality particular to that time period but adapted its intro to include the trademark cheesy technique of actor-turn-reveal-pose-credit used in every show from The Love Boat to Perry Mason and spoofed at the end of Galaxy Quest. The 1980’s featured a song in a not so subtle but simultaneously nostalgic and funny way.

There’s even a split second nod to Back to the Future.

One of the most distinctive elements of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was the way the cast radiated a sense of fun. Every character was given moments to shine and each conveyed a sense of loving their character and running with the often crazy new aspects to their characters. Nothing deterred these guys. They faced death, acquired superpowers, were absorbed into a virtual world within a computer model made of the hopes and fears of the agents, traveled time, encountered the supernatural, and in a couple of notable scenes even met Nick Fury himself.

There were side characters compelling enough to deserve their own shows, but sadly, never got them: Bobby and Hunter – the married and bickering killer agents, Enoch

the put upon android (Joel Stoffer) who wanted to fit into this ersatz family, Deke (Jeff Ward) the under appreciated tech genius sucked out of an alternate timeline who was (probably) Fitz-Simmons’ grand child,

Calvin (Kyle MacLachlan) Sky’s mad scientist father who was contented with a mind wipe and job as a veterinarian,

Sousa a heroic figure rescued from a historic death and whisked off secretly in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s time traveling ship,

Trip (B.J. Britt) who endeared himself to everyone then was summarily Whedonized, Ward who was transformed into an alien supervillain, a set of identical triple agents (Patton Oswalt), Mike (J. August Richards), a cybernetically enhanced father who longed to return to his son, a stranded Asgardian, Chronicoms, the supernatural Ghost Rider, and an evil Russian agent who became a disembodied head remotely operating an LMD version of himself, among many others.

I wish I had time to mention all the entertaining cast members that popped into AOS over 136 episodes but there were literally hundreds of supporting members of the company, most of whom made an interesting impression.

This was a show to look forward to but never have to take seriously. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was a world of fantasy which rarely succumbed to the political correctness so debilitating to creativity today. I shall miss the prospect of new shows but think they went out with class and style, completing character arcs and homaging the heck out of their and other universes but never losing sight of the themes of: family, patriotism, heroics, courage, self-sacrifice, constantly striving to do the best with the gifts God has given you, coping with massive challenges, and a “Never give up, never surrender” (thank you again Galaxy Quest) attitude.

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was a world any superhero would have been proud to call home and a place, I think, my Dad would have enjoyed visiting.

So long, farewell.

TENET – NOLAN’S TIME TRAVELING SPY THRILLER DAZZLES — AS LONG AS YOU DON’T LOOK TOO CLOSELY AT THE PLOT

SHORT TAKE:

Christopher Nolan’s most recent mind bender. Bond meets Back to the Future.

WHO SHOULD WATCH:

Really for adults only for violence, some profanity, and a poisonous bad guy who indulges in everything from torture and pursuing world domination to domestic abuse.

LONG TAKE:

It is a cliche to say that something started off ”with a bang” but in the case of Christopher Nolan’s Tenet, that’s a pretty accurate description.

Without credits or explanation you are abruptly thrown into a high risk hostage situation with all the preparation of a Shanghai sailor enlisted into an open sea battle. Guns blazing we follow the main character as he negotiates a field of terrorists and SWAT team members in a sea of innocent victims. You can’t even be sure for whom one should be rooting – except … that the guy you are following is called The Protagonist (John David Washington from The Book of Eli) and works for a super secret organization endeavoring to prevent the end of the world. But even this you do not find out for some time. To make it all the more challenging, in these opening scenes, which time is usually spent introducing you to the home team, everyone is in full helmeted armor and the only hints we get about the participants in this war zone is their actions. Some have no problem shooting at unconscious captives, others try to spare them.

Tenet is best enjoyed as a full emersion experience. I hesitate mightily to even hint at the plot as it would be as rudely revealing as blurting out the name of the killer in the middle of an Agatha Christie movie.

So I will content myself in providing as much advisory information as I can based upon the features of the film.

To begin with the special effects are pretty spectacular. Not in an Independence Day way but in the cleverness with which Nolan exposits his time travel McGuffins. I anticipate a much deserved Best Special Effects, and Best Editing awards going Tenet’s way.

The soundtrack by Ludwig Goransson (Black Panther and Mandalorian) is fitting and channels Hans Zimmer. If you did not know this was a Nolan film, you would recognize the heavy hand of deep resonant sound which underlies, creates and builds on the tension, much like the so-familiar-it-is-now-parodied brass blare from Inception.

Nolan, the masterful auteur writer and/or director of Interstellar, Inception, Dunkirk, The Prestige, The Dark Knight, and Memento, LOVES to play mind games with his audience. Even Washington has admitted that he is STILL not entirely sure what happened. This is NOT meant as a criticism. Far from it. I admire and appreciate the fact Nolan respects his audience enough to give them room (and rope enough) to find their way on their own, contemplate meanings, and ponder the reasons certain things happen the way they do. In other hands this could be seen as a cop-out but Nolan provides plenty of evidence, bread crumbs and titillating detail. It’s just that there are a number of ways these particulars can be interpreted.

Nolan’s films are a LOT of fun to watch.

However, while, again, I will not reveal the plot, I will warn you that the plot does not always and completely hold together. Unlike the tightly written Back to the Future trilogy or the Infinity War stories, or even Groundhog Day, explanations in Tenet are muddied and subscribe to the philosophy that if you cannot dazzle them with brilliance, baffled them with …LOTS of action. Nolan even speaks to the audience through one of the minor characters who, while trying to explain certain … events … to The Protagonist, ultimately tells him not to try to understand it but, instead, “feel” it. This, I think, is more advice for the ticket buyer than our investigating spy.

In addition, despite the Draconian Wuhan Virus related regulations causing the shut down of theaters around the country, and despite the money foregone in not simply releasing Tenet to streaming services, Nolan stuck to his guns and INSISTED on a theatrical release. He was quite open about the reason. He did not want the audience to have the opportunity to stop the movie, take a break from the 150 minute bladder burster, or be interrupted by a phone call. He wanted Tenet to be embraced in one swell foop – a single experience which, like a roller coaster will take you on a wild ride, leaving you little chance to catch your breath, figure out or, Heaven forfend, try to ANTICIPATE the next move. I suspect Nolan knew full well that some of his exposition would not completely hold water and that there are plot holes and contrivance contradictions.

The acting is really excellent. Washington is as compelling, cool, and convincing as any Bond hero.

Michael Caine has a small but delightful expositional part. Mr. Caine’s appearance was one of many highlights even though Mr. Caine was almost completely in the dark as to exactly what machine he was a cog in. Nolan kept the story so under wraps that Sir Michael was only given his part of the script to read. This, in fact, actually helps. Caine’s character would NOT have known even a fraction of what was going on within the Universe of the story. But Sir Michael is so gifted a storyteller that he could be given a grocery list to read and I’d still pay money to listen.

Robert Pattinson has come a LONG way since his Twilight phase. While I am likely one of the few grown ups who have advocated in favor of that film series due to its promotion of chastity and pro-life, I never said they were particularly skilled cinematic efforts. SEE REVIEW HERE But Pattison does himself proud as the suave but slightly slovenly, mischievous but mysterious ally to Washington’s main character.

Elizabeth Debicki is sympathetic as Kat, the damsel in distress who has a surprise or two up her sleeve. Debicki might look familiar to sci fi fans, but many will have trouble placing her without her Gold Finger paint job from Guardians of the Galaxy Part 2’s Ayesha.

But the trump card belongs to Kenneth Branagh as the malevolent criminal mastermind. I HATE when Branagh plays villains. For one thing, he is just so likeable in general it is almost painful to accept him as the one to beat. Even Branagh’s evil characters are hard not to side with — at least a little. His Iago in Othello, for instance, was often amusing and so openly willing to confide to the audience that you couldn’t help but understand his frustrations, even as you could be dismayed by his betrayals of those who trusted him.

For another, he’s just too darned GOOD at being bad. In Tenet, Branagh’s Sator (Saytr? Satan? Combo?) is a truly ruthless and malignant person. And yet – there was a compulsion in watching Branagh as he unveiled this persona. I knew it couldn’t be sympathy and then realized it was Branagh’s powerful portrayal of Sator as a man so convinced of his own rightness and entitlement to the outcome of every plan he makes that you are compelled to see through his eyes, even as you are horrified by what he does.

The language was a bit rough in spots but often during action scenes where the music and sound effects were so loud it was hard to make out.

Tenet is not a perfect movie. It does not even bear harsh scrutiny in the afterglow without revealing some major flaws and inconsistencies. In places, the plot is so threadbare you could read – a script through it.

But who cares? The acting is great, the action sequences fascinating, the special effects creative and the story moves along at such a pace that the lines blur enough to give the IMPRESSION of a tightly woven story. If you’re looking for Agatha Christie – wait for Branagh’s turn as the hero in Death on the Nile. But, if you are looking for a great Theme Park-like roller coaster of a movie this is your ride.

THE OLD GUARD – PRESUMPTUOUS AND FORGETTABLE ACTION FLICK WITHOUT A PROPER ENDING OR POINT

SHORT TAKE:

Gratuitously violent action adventure about five semi-immortal mercenaries who fight for “good” guys who can find and afford them.

WHO SHOULD WATCH:

Only for adult fans of graphic novel genre stories which take themselves way too seriously. Inappropriate for the usual superhero demographic crowd because of: violence, profanity, disturbing images of prolonged suffering and overt same sex attraction relationships.

LONG TAKE:

Pray for rain, plow the field. Despite the unfortunate lack of genuine prayer life in most filmmakers’ lives nowadays, (the Kendrick and Coen brothers, respectively, being the most prominently laudable mainstream exceptions), movie makers sometimes demonstrate a, shall we say, unjustified amount of optimism regarding sequel-likelihood for their movie. I’m not talking about tried-and-true established film franchises justifiably confident in their future audience, like: Marvel, Star Trek and Star Wars. I’m talking about movies that come out of nowhere but blatantly setup endings which require a sequel for an adequate conclusion, ending in what can only be thought of as a cheap way to dodge coming up with a satisfying finale to a tricky plot conundrum.

One example is the campy old classic 1975 Doc Savage: Man of Bronze whose final scene showed Doc (Ron Ely) whisking off in response to an answering machine message about a threat to millions of lives. 45 years on were still waiting to find out what that was all about.

Another is the woefully underappreciated campy old 1980 classic, Flash Gordon. Even the inclusion of: Shakespearean Timothy “James Bond” Dalton, Academy Award winner and auteur Ingmar Bergman darling Max Von Sydow,  Branagh’s “go to” Shakespearean stable performer Brian Blessed, music by Queen, and production by Dino DeLaurentis (whose filmography includes 184 films), could not save this light and fun swing at the action adventure hero genre at the box office. Flash “concludes” with the destroyed evil Emperor Ming’s ring being picked up by an unidentified someone’s hand and the Emperor’s wicked laugh sounding against the end title of  “The End ?” I think we can safety answer – yes, it was the END of that movie.

Another is 1969’s The Italian Job, (not the 2003 sequel which is quite different) which ended with our intrepid antiheroes literally hanging in a bus over a cliff with a massive fortune in gold causing them to teeter towards the abyss and Michael Caine’s character’s last words: “Hold on lads, I’ve got an idea,” ringing in our ears.

SPOILERS

The Old Guard is an action adventure fantasy starring Charlize Theron (Atomic Blonde, Tully, Mad Max Fury Road, and, coincidentally, the 2003 version of The Italian Job) as Andromache “Andy” of Scythia which posits the idea of a small band of almost immortal warriors who make a living performing impossible good deeds for a price. While the premise is interesting it never really carries through with the most obvious question which the characters themselves ask over and over throughout the movie, which is: “Why?”

Why are they immortal? What is the reason? They are apparently just born this way, and their only similarity is that they all tend to either be or gravitate to a warrior existence. The most obvious structure should have lead us to some kind of ultimate good towards which they were all moving. While a sort of vague impulse to do good lies at the heart of their raison d’etre, there does not seem to be a focus or long game.

Filmmakers now have such an aversion to the idea of an Intelligent Creator that even when it is the most obvious conclusion to the very setup they have created it is a Third Rail. I might have been interested in a sequel which headed toward answering this mystery. Instead we are treated to the appearance in a pre-end credit scene in which Booker, temporarily outcast for reasons I will not spoil here, encounters another quasi-immortal about which we have only seen briefly in flashbacks

Frankly, I thought it rather presumptuous of them to so obviously stick us with an unfinished conclusion, assuming a following they have not yet earned. Overall more time is spent watching the characters fight and bemoan their immortal existence than examining what could have been a very interesting philosophical question structured within the body of an action adventure movie.

The movie is based upon a comic book/graphic novel mini series. But the first issue having been published in 2017 there is not a lot of traction to warrant the conviction of a sufficient following to support a second installment.

Keep in mind Doc Savage was a comic book too, with 181 issues published between 1933 and 1949, and an established following of kids who were now adults when the 1975 clunker hit the big screen like a bug on a windshield. And Flash Gordon was a comic strip which ran from 1934 to 1992 in multiple countries around the world. But that didn’t save its 1980 butt from being thoroughly kicked with critics and audience alike.

In addition, The Old Guard violates one of my demonstrably relevant rules of successful movie making. They don’t have a sense of humor. Even the characters in Aliens found a few legitimate, albeit “whistling in the dark” chuckles despite their dire circumstances. (Hudson, a male soldier trying to antagonize Vasquez, a female soldier: “Hey Vasquez, have you ever been mistaken for a man?” Vasquez: “No, have you?” After their rescue ship crashes Burk quips: “Maybe we can build a fire, sing a couple of songs, huh? Why don’t we try that?”) But in The Old Guard they don’t even try. Aside from some bleakly pessimistic sarcasm there is no genuine lightness to their lives.

They see no real upside to their longevity, but only moan a lot about the downsides – which admittedly are considerable. And while it’s true that they will outlive everyone they love, and there is always the possibility they could be trapped somewhere for an interminable amount of time without the escape hatch of death, you would think, with possibilities available to them which are not for the rest of us mortals, they could find some positives. They have all seen significant chunks of history play out. They will not get cancer, suffer overmuch from even catastrophic injury, become bald or even get cavities! Over the centuries they have done great good but never stopped to appreciate it. To them immortality just isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I get that. But that is not the button that should be pushed repeatedly throughout the entire movie.

I became impatient with their collective inability to count their considerable blessings. They would have done well to watch Groundhog Day (a few times LOL) and learn what it means to be blessed with the opportunity to save lives and prevent pain. Although Phil’s  temporary immortality came in a repeat loop and The Old Guard’s is more linear and arguably should have been more satisfying, Phil came to appreciate his altruistic duty. I suspect the difference is in Phil’s basic footing in a faith in God, hinted at in moments such as when Phil looks up to Heaven as the elderly man he is trying to save dies – again. Phil came to accept that he, Phil, is not in control, but is only meant to do the best he can with the unique position he is in.

There is no such similar water shed moment in The Old Guard but just a constant, low level, bitchy undervaluing of the tremendous gift they have been given, without ever considering the possibility that maybe they have a reason and a purpose.

Despite the wishful thinking from gushing, almost syncophantic reviewers, The Old Guard is already being referred to as a “quick kill blockbuster”. A quick kill blockbuster is a movie with so much hype, star power and anticipation before it comes out, that it makes a big splash, only to sink pitifully to the bottom of the pool fairly quickly. The Old Guard’s financial demise will be hidden for a while both by the inertia it has going into the public mainstream based on Charlize Theron’s involvement and its alleged comic book origin appeal, and by the fact that “box office” returns have been reinterpreted due to the Wuhan virus government regulation cataclysm keeping theaters closed.

Collecting “box office” revenue has been replaced with counting “streaming hits” and no one has adequately interpreted the conversion factor for those yet. But it is easy to guess that what would otherwise have been a box office bomb can be covered by the “film” (if you will excuse the pun) of references to “excitement” over its release and the number of “hits” it gets on its home media of Netflix. Since a subscription to Netflix gives access to anything within that system without extra cost, it is impossible for the average observer to tell how many of those “hits” resulted in a full screening or just a casual taste which is quickly discarded after a few minutes of fading interest.

It’s just not a very good or engaging film. The characters mope about in a miasmic funk of self-pity when they are not precision “target shooting” their opponents or leaping about in martial arts choreography we’ve all seen done often and better in any of the Infinity Saga movies.

That’s not to say it is a terrible movie or not a good popcorn flick. It’s got a number of redeeming qualities to it, not the least of which is at least a nod to Judeo-Christian faith of the newbie character Nile, as well as a truly interesting concept, albeit one which is not well explored. But it is just nowhere near strong or creative enough to merit the kind of confidence which demands the movie-going public must commit to another movie in order to resolve the plot twists which had been hinted at throughout the film’s already over long two hour and five minute run.

Theron does a credible job as Andy, head and oldest of the band, artistically fighting her way through hordes of bad guys and occasionally with colleagues. But she bringing nothing much more to her character than a smoldering gruffness, which prominent personality characteristic she has brought to many of her other movies like Atomic Blonde and Mad Max. I understand her tough guy/girl persona does not lend itself to lightness and fun but even in Tully SEE REVIEW HERE, where she plays a wife and mother, why does she have to look so GROUCHY all the time??

Harry Melling’s evil pharma king Steven Merrick fully channels Jesse Eisenberg’s Lex Luther in Batman v Superman.  This is especially notable as Merrick, the skinny hyper megalomaniac, is portrayed by the same actor who played dumpy, spoiled but, at the end,  gratefully good hearted Dudley in the Harry Potter movies.

The ever delightful Chiwetel Ejiofor (2012, Dr. Strange and The Martian) plays Copley, the researcher who unearths and exposes the band and whose motives are mixed and complex.

Matthias Schoenaerts (Rust and Bone, Red Sparrow SEE REVIEW HERE, and The Laundromat) is a sympathetic Booker, Andy’s favorite, whose convoluted motives provide some three-dimensional flair to the proceedings.

Relative newbie Kiki Layne is refreshing as Nile the newly emerged mostly immortal.

Veronica Ngo (Star Wars: The Last Jedi) has the unenviable position of Quynh, whose character is more referred to by the other characters than ever seen but who promises to be in the sequel if one ever  is filmed.

And whether it is yet another victim of the Wuhan virus regulation cataclysm or if this slow moving action flick is using the pandemic response overreach as an excuse, the earliest that The Old Guard 2 is even being considered is 2022. So, as fans of Flash Gordon and the first The Italian Job could tell you – don’t hold your breath. And honestly, while the movie is mildly entertaining, never getting a resolution to it would not be much of a loss for this fairly arid outing.

MOON – AN EXAMINATION OF WHAT IT IS TO BE HUMAN

SHORT TAKE:

Thoughtful, low key and intriguing sci fi exploration of the definition of a human.

WHO SHOULD WATCH:

Adults only for language, graphic depictions of radiation sickness and the topics of death, loneliness and the marketing of human life.

LONG TAKE:

Sam Rockwell is an amazing actor. I have sung his praises in other outings like Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, (SEE RADIO SHOW HERE and the REVIEW HERE) and his stint as Bob Fosse in the miniseries Fosse/Verdun. But my favorite performance of his will always be the first one I ever saw him in, Galaxy Quest, the parody / love letter to Star Trek.

SPOILERS BUT AS FEW AS POSSIBLE

So I was duly intrigued by a story that would see Rockwell go back out into space. In Moon he does just that. Moon is a tour-de-force, almost a one man show.

I warn you I’m going to be a bit disingenuous about this movie because I do not want to spoil it anymore than I have to for the sake of the following analysis. Moon is about a man and a clone. I will tell you that the cleverly written script leaves “Easter eggs” around giving hints.

Set in 2035, the story initially explores an examination of how one copes alone on a solitary mission for an extended period of time. Moon then, by turns, becomes an examination in psychology, a mystery, a buddy movie, and eventually a thoughtful consideration of what it means to be a human with the soul. This last led me to realize that Moon could easily be, whether that was on the mind of the filmmaker or not, an analogy for the in vitro created embryos, especially those abandoned as excess or unwanted by the sperm and egg donors who should have accepted their responsibility as parents.

Sam Bell is alone on a space station. His mission contract is for 3 years, monitoring the mining output of extremely valuable *helium-3 from the Moon.  Sam’s only connection to Earth is from one-way video messages of his wife and baby daughter. His only companion or foil for his comments is GERTY who looks more like a Welcome Wagon than even a robot and is voiced by the now infamous Kevin Spacey, who’s measured tones, (giving the devil his due), attempt to offer Sam what limited comfort of which it is capable.

Unlike other writers who agonize over choosing just the right name for their characters, Jones did not, apparently, give it much thought. Lest you were wondering, GERTY is not an acronym but just a name, perhaps, as has been speculated by admirers of the film, chosen for Christopher E Gerty, a NASA aerospace engineer, or perhaps for its similarity to the first five letters on the top line of a standard keyboard – QWERTY.  Sam, the main character’s first name, is the actor’s first name. The harvesters are named after the four authors of the Gospel: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, which one might think brings a gravitas of meaning, but Jones, himself, has said they were only chosen because he wanted four names that went together.

Sam Bell becomes desperate for any kind of human interaction, longing for personal communication, but forgets that one should be careful for what one wishes as information can be as heartbreaking as it is educational.

Rockwell does a terrific job, even landing his performance in a list of one of the top 10 most egregious Oscar snubs. Rockwell’s Sams are at once the exact same but completely different. One Sam is simply further down the road than the other and Rockwell does a magnificent job of making them completely distinguishable, while at the same time leaving the door open for alternative interpretations, such as: is Sam Bell really only losing his mind? (Rest assured, the movie will eventually answer all the pertinent questions). But during the course of the movie Rockwell’s dynamic performance leaves all possibilities viable (pun intended).

The scenes on the surface of the Moon are well done and very believable, especially when considering Moon‘s mini budget of $5,000,000 and scant shooting schedule of 33 days in Shepperton Studios. The director/writer Duncan Jones preferred models to CGI so employed Bill Pearson, the supervising “animator” for Alien, who was happily at loose ends because of a writers’ strike, to create the rovers and harvesters .

First time feature director, Duncan Zowie Haywood Jones’ only other claims to fame up to this time were being a commercial director and the son of famous rocker David Bowie. The film even opens with the line: “Where are we now?” the title of one of his father’s songs.

Jones wrote Moon as a vehicle for Sam Rockwell. Jones had been interested in casting Rockwell as a villain in another film, Mute. While Rockwell liked Mute and was tempted, he was tired of playing bad guys. So Rockwell challenged Jones – that if Jones wrote something of the same quality which would trust him, Rockwell, in a leading role, he would do it. So Jones did — and Rockwell agreed.

The soundtrack by Clint Mansell is reminiscent of Philip Glass. Dissonant string chords, heavily rhythmed but mostly without regular tempo, are occasionally interspersed with simple childish tunes which would be at home in a child’s jewelry box. The effect is one of both low level, anxiety driven tension and what a quiet but hostile space environment might sound like were it anthropomorphized to conduct an orchestra. The overall result is both unsettling and lulling.

In philosophizing about where on the spectrum of humanity lies clones, there must come a reckoning as to the significance of other “artificially” created human life. As the conclusion in the favor of those not “born of woman” becomes more and more obvious, there is an inevitability for any thought conscientious person to reach the same judgement concerning those children whose conception took place in a petri dish – the in vitro embryos bred and then left discarded as “extras” and “backups” then ultimately … forgotten to death. The “where” one obtains life is not important. They – both clones and science-driven and conceived embryos – are undeniably human.

When Edward Rutledge protests against John Adams’ assertion that slaves are Americans, John Adams points out, appropriate to that particular historic juncture, in the brilliant musical 1776: “They are people, and they are here. If there’s any other requirement, I haven’t heard it,” regardless of how they arrived. Similarly, I would point out, the only prerequisite to being considered human, with all of the attendant God given rights and dignities, is to be — a human. Doesn’t matter how you arrived: sexual interaction, artificial insemination, petri dish, cloning, or (in the case of extended sci fi examples) transporter accidents – a human is a human and should be treated as such.

Moon makes this point beautifully and with great understatement. And Rockwell is the classy and compelling purveyor of that message. So to paraphrase Horton: A person’s a person, no matter how he got here.

*Helium-3 is a real thing – also called tralphium or helion, it is a light stable isotope of helium which is rare on Earth but is speculated to be more abundant and mineable from the Moon.

ALTERNATE ENDINGS TO OLD CLASSICS

 

 

MASSIVE SPOILERS – WE’RE PRIMARILY DISCUSSING ENDINGS – SO YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

ALTERNATE ENDINGS TO OLD CLASSICS!!!

I hate to disabuse you of an illusion but:

Classic movies are not written in stone.

Nonetheless, every movie buff prides themselves on knowing the endings to their favorite old movies. Even a casual connoisseur at the cinematic buffet might know or recognize last lines to a famous movie they haven’t even seen!

“T’was beauty killed the beast” (King Kong); “Frankly my dear I don’t give a damn” and “Tomorrow is another day.” (Two of the last few lines in Gone With the Wind), “There’s no place like home.” (The Wizard of Oz), “Top of the world, Ma.” (White Heat).

Phrases like these and the endings they invoke have inveigled their way into the cultural vocabulary so firmly one would think that all celluloid masterpieces have amaranthine finales , unlike today’s market driven and screen tested denouements with roundtable  action figure consideration, directors’ cuts, and DVD  special edition options.

But you’d be wrong. Even movies decades old, but still popular today, occasionally went through rewrites for a variety of reasons. These are some of my favorites.

AGAIN – SPOILERS!!! LAST WARNING!

Our Town

This 1940 beauty was originally a famous play by Thornton Wilder about small town Americana life at the turn of the century, mostly focusing on the relationship of childhood sweethearts George and Emily. In the stageplay, Emily dies in childbirth. In the movie she lives. Thornton Wilder explained his approval of this change when the play transitioned to film. He said the theater piece is understood as an abstract so there is a certain emotional distance between the characters and the audience. But in the cinema there is a closeness to reality, an intimacy and familiarity developed between the movie patrons and the big screen personas, which would have made Emily’s death just cruel, so when the producers approached him to change it – he agreed.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Stanley Kubrick was known as both a brilliant cinematographer and an insufferably frustrating director. Infamous for telling his actors what he did not like, but notoriously stubborn in refusing to give them a clue as to what it was that he wanted, the filmatic and box office results were of checkerboard quality.

Anecdotes abound of Kubrick’s poor judgement as a director. Shelly Duvall broke down during filming of The Shining after a record approaching 127 takes of an intensely emotional scene. Kubrick routinely abused his cast to create a movie that even Stephen King, author of the source material, publicly stated he did not like, and who described it as: “…a big, beautiful Cadillac with no engine inside it.”

Stultifyingly long scenes in Barry Lyndon, where performers appeared afraid to move, resulted in that massive flop being appropriately nicknamed “Bore-y Lyndon”.

But in 1964’s wild ride, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, Kubrick was both great cinematographer and great director. With talents like George C. Scott, Peter Sellers (who almost died from exhaustion playing three key roles), Keenan Wynn and Slim Pickens invigorating the set, it is understandable that this deeply dark satire on a world teetering on the edge of global nuclear war would click along with the bizarre uniqueness of Terry Gilliam’s Time Bandits, while still evoking the cautionary thoughtfulness of  Fail Safe, which Strangelove was parodying.

The theatrically released ending sees the world committed to all inclusive radiated destruction, a plan for a handful of survivors to go underground with LOTS of extra buxom females with which to eventually – ahem – repopulate the Earth, and a previously wheelchair bound former Nazi scientist of questionable sanity, the eponymous Dr. Strangelove himself, rising unexpectedly from his chair, give the Nazi salute and shout: “Mien Fuhrer, I can WALK!”

As provocative, quirky, memorable and blackly funny as this is…this WASN’T the original ending. It was supposed to have gone on for another 5 minutes with – of all things – a PIE fight in the war room amongst the President, his cabinet heads, military leaders and the Russian ambassador! However, with the assassination of JFK taking place as they were filming, the idea of a President being hit with anything was, wisely, determined to be a bit too close to the knuckle. On top of that the actors were having WAY too much fun throwing pies at each other to convey the bleak analogy for war Kubrick had intended. So the scenes were set aside for later editing and simply….lost.

The Birds

Then there is Alfred Hitchcock’s 1963 bizarre alternate reality horror movie about birds in Bodega Bay, which suddenly and for no apparent or explained reason, flock by the hundreds to commit sudden and lethal suicide attacks on people, resulting in fatal and gruesome “peckings” as car windows are shattered, gas stations are blown up, and people are driven mad by the clawing, poking, feathered beasts.

In the theatrical ending the main protagonists drive slowly away from the decimated town, watched by hundreds, if not thousands of birds perched ominously on rooftops and telephone wires.

However, Hitchcock’s initial vision ended the story with a scene showing the Golden Gate Bridge covered in birds, hinting at the world wide spread of this cataclysm. BUT lacking the CGI of today, the shocking implications of nature gone – well – wild, was left limited mysteriously to Bodega Bay, as the more spectacular visuals would have been prohibitively expensive, and therefore ended up … at the bottom of the bird cage.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

This brilliant view into the emotionally wrenching family dynamics of a Southern patriarchy is the most complicated in this list, as, though the changes of the Broadway endings are thin and slight, they are pregnant (if you’ll excuse the pun given the plot of COAHTR) each with complexly nuanced different meanings.

The story of Tennessee Williams’ most well known dysfunctional love/hate family actually has FOUR endings, albeit all similar but differing in key subtleties.

COAHTR centers around the relationship between young couple, Maggie (Elizabeth Taylor) and Brick (Paul Newman), at the birthday party for Big Daddy (Burl Ives), the wealthy head of a family whose interactions are strained, to say the least.  Brick and “Gooper” (Jack Carson)  are Big Daddy’s sons, who, like Esau and Issac, could not be more different. Gooper is the diligent, anxious to pleased progeny, whose demonstrably fertile wife’s child production is aimed at impressing Big Daddy into handing the dynasty on to her own husband.

Brick, formerly the fair haired boy and once favorite son, is now a broken down, alcoholic, ex-athlete, with a leg in a cast and a beautiful adoring wife who he disdains. The change in Brick is incomprehensible to his doting father, as Brick, like many of William’s characters, keeps a shameful secret, which would otherwise be quite revelatory, closely guarded.

Brick can not forgive Maggie (or himself) for the death of Skip, his best friend. The reason for this blame is both tragic and a bit convoluted. Maggie, completely devoted to Brick, would do ANYthing for Brick. So, in an attempt to warn Brick of Skip’s personal flaws, which she fears will hurt Brick, offered herself sexually to Skip, but Skip was unable to complete the act.

The first Broadway version included implications of Skip’s homosexual attraction to Brick. Revealed by Skip to Brick the same night as Maggie’s ineffective attempt to seduce him, it was Brick’s revulsion added to Skip’s inability to complete the act with Maggie that led to Skip’s suicide.

Brick not only is furious at Maggie for trying to sleep with Skip, but more so as Brick holds Maggie responsible for proving to him Skip’s seamier nature, which reveal, Brick concludes, resulted in Skip’s suicide.

The first ending of the stage play was dark, confirming Brick’s continued rejection of his desperate wife. Maggie: “I love you Brick.” Brick: “Wouldn’t it be funny if it was true?” callously implying that she is lying for financial gain and cruelly hinting that, even were it true, ironically, he no longer loves her.

The director who Williams’ wanted for the stage play, Elia Kazan (block buster director of both stage and screen, who brought us such movies as Streetcar Named Desire, Gentlemen’s Agreement, On the Waterfront, and East of Eden), did not like this bleak ending and insisted it end on a more hopeful note. Compliantly, but reluctantly, Williams added to the second stageplay version some softening dialogue and a gesture: MAGGIE: “…nothing’s more determined than a cat on a hot tin roof, is there?” Brick allows her to touch his face implying Brick might eventually soften to her.

The third version of the story was the 1958 FILM adapted from the play, and as the most positive is the one I personally like best. The director Richard Brooks and co-author of the screenplay James Poe, made two significant changes: it eliminated the homosexual undertones and made the reconciliation between Maggie and Brick crystal clear. MAGGIE: “Thank you…for backing me up in my lie. [that she was pregnant]” BRICK: “We are through with lies and liars in this house,” as Brick smiles and locks the door.

The third version of the STAGEplay and fourth version of the story overall, was written by Williams for a 1974 revival, and combines the first two stageplay endings. Brick tells Maggie he admires her. Maggie tells Brick she loves him. Brick says: “Wouldn’t it be funny if it was true?” but then allows Maggie to touch his face, making the formerly caustic line now more one of gentle sarcasm, hinting that he has forgiven her, or at least will soon.

Gone With the Wind

This gorgeous epic of the Civil War and the resulting destruction of the genteel Southern Plantation life mostly seen from the POV of Scarlett, a feisty, largely self absorbed woman, recalls one of the most famous ending lines in cinematic history. Scarlett’s husband, Rhett, finally fed up with years of Scarlett’s neglect, emotional infidelity, manipulative personality and rejection of him, leaves. Scarlett, at long last, but too late, recognizes her love for Rhett and determines to win him back. Though she is too exhausted with the traumatic events leading up to this moment right then, she will come up with a plan the next day because: “After all – tomorrow is another day.” This line from the eponymous book published in 1936 and from the movie adaptation released in 1939 reflected an assertive, self confident, pro active and independent (even if possibly delusional) woman – quite startling in that era.

BUT that was not the original last line. The first draft of the screenplay had Scarlett passively hoping that: “Rhett! You’ll come back. I know you will.” Love Scarlett or hate her, this line would have been abysmally out of character for the strong willed, bull-headed, wrecking ball we had watched survive the multiple disasters, admittedly many self-made, which formed the structure of her life.

The far more blindly confident and dauntlessly self-assured line that ended up as the well known last line of this classic is far more in keeping with the Scarlett we had come to know.

Suspicion

Simplest and most straight forward change of heart in this group. The end of the original version of this 1948 thriller/mystery, sees Cary Grant try to murder his wife. In the revised theatrically released edition he is “only” a thief, and a repentant one at that. Reason: The studio did not want to besmirch Grant’s genial good guy image.

The Jungle Book – animated, Disney – 1967

I was 8 when this movie came out in the theater and my Dad almost assuredly took me. As an adult and a now parent myself, one of my favorite Disney chuckles is the feminine eyes that eventually lure Mowgli away from the jungle and his animal friends and into the village – sort of an analogy for what happens to most men – leaving the less civil world of their singleness for the more gentile virtues of domesticity, beguiled by the enchantment of womanly wiles – a warning with which my husband and I enjoyed teasing our sons.

BUT this is not the way the first draft of the story went. Leaning more on the Kipling story, there was an entire third and LONG act which might have almost doubled the time and most certainly would have made it a darker film. In the initial concept Mowgli, upon returning to the village, was at once reunited with his human mother and challenged by an elder named Buldeo who eventually forces Mowgli into the forest in search of King Louie’s treasure, but is ultimately eaten by Shere Khan who is, in turn, shot and killed by Mowgli. Mowgli is then accepted by both villagers and jungle as a full fledged member of both. Whew! Honestly a bit much, I suspect, for the young crowd for which it was originally intended.

SO – quintessential movie endings – aren’t. They are often, as Ben Franklin described the creation of both revolutions and children born out of wedlock in the musical 1776: “half-improvised and half-compromised”. Not surprising as movies are rarely made alone. Even auteurs like Orson Welles, Stanley Kubrick, Woody Allen, Ingmar Bergman and Kenneth Branagh must rely on a plethora of cast and crew to see their vision manifest itself into something tangible they can present to the rest of the world. As a result of: negotiation with a talent they wish to include, financial pragmatism, public relations, or just plain old common sense, story lines can be quite dynamic even as the movies are being filmed.

And it is a blessing when these serendipitous events, creative editings and pragmatic decisions end up producing the great films, like these, which grace the halls of cinematic legend.  

 

YANKEE DOODLE DANDY – AN AMERICAN ICON PORTRAYS AN AMERICAN ICON

 

SHORT TAKE:

One of the greatest American classic musicals – Yankee Doodle Dandy – about one of the greatest American stage play auteurs – George M. Cohan – played by one of the greatest American actors – Jimmy Cagney.

WHO CAN WATCH:

Anyone and everyone!

LONG TAKE:

It’s hard for an old screen movie buff like me to talk about George M. Cohan without bringing up Jimmy Cagney. Cagney was to Cohan in the movie Yankee Doodle Dandy what George C. Scott did for General George S. Patton in the movie Patton.  But for those born closer to the turn of the last milennium than I was, a brief history lesson might be in order.

George M. Cohan was a prolific Broadway song and dance man. Beginning in vaudeville with his family he went on to write over 300 songs, many which would ring a bell even today: “You’re a Grand Ole Flag”, “Yankee Doodle Boy”, and “Give my Regards to Broadway,” among many others. With his long time partner Sam Harris, Cohan wrote the stories, lyrics and  music performed in more than 50 plays. They helped create Broadway at the turn of the previous century and were the first to incorporate songs and dance numbers into musicals, not just for razzle dazzle but to further the story. Cohan encouraged and promoted a pure clean patriotism and love of country which, like now, was sorely needed in the face of world challenges – at that time the World Wars.

He was the first artisan of any kind to win the Congressional Gold Medal, bestowed upon him by President Franklin D. Roosevelt for boosting American troop morale with his songs, particularly with “Over There”. His songs and stories helped reinforce and unite Americans throughout two World Wars, delighted Broadway attendees for decades and added to the heritage of Americana just as Norma Rockwell did with painting, Aaron Copeland did with music, and John Wayne did with movies.

Jimmy Cagney was an actor whose length and breadth of performances spanned from gangster to comedian. He established the bad boy thug in The Public Enemy, White Heat and Angels with Dirty Faces so thoroughly and forcefully that many people do not know he was an accomplished “hoofer” right up there with Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire.

Yankee Doodle Dandy is an old school heartwarming slice of American apple pie, the likes of which is lacking in our lexicon of cinema today. This song and dance banquet is a lighthearted and often intimate portrait of this American hero and brilliant raconteur who epitomized the American spirit as much as Patton did the American will to win and sacrifice in the name of worldwide freedom.

Yankee Doodle Dandy follows Cohan from his days with his family on the vaudeville stage, his partnership with Sam Harris, his marriage to his devoted wife and stage partner Mary, and his indefatigable devotion to his family and his country.

Movies like Patton, The Patriot, 1776, Sergeant York and The Longest Day are brilliant films whose legacy is in honor of blood spilled by our self-sacrificing soldiers for the establishment and continuation of our Independence. But also give a thought to Yankee Doodle Dandy, a gentler movie about a gentler time whose strength of character, patriotic resolve, firmness of character and courage manifested itself in songs intended to comfort, inspire and honor those same brave American battle field heroes.

Now, Voyager – Old Classic Movie with a Disturbing but Largely Ignored Perversity

SHORT TAKE:

Golden Age Hollywood film of a torrid affair between a transformed Ugly Duckling and a married man.

WHO SHOULD WATCH:

Mid-teens and up, with parental discussion, for morally ambiguous rationalizations, rejection of children, mental illness, frequent smoking, and adulterous behavior, though absolutely nothing but a bit of kissing is shown. Besides which younger kids would be bored spitless.

LONG TAKE:

SPOILERS!

It is a commonly held misconception that old movies were compasses for morality. This myth is reinforced by the sadly defunct Hays Code and the largely ignored MPAA rating system, not to mention the creation of the Disney empire in the 1920’s, which used to be the Gold standard for family friendly fare. Then there was the preponderance of extremely popular morally upright movies which endorsed and respected religion and marriage, which were released in the 1940’s, 1950’s and 1960’s, such as: The Ten Commandments, Bells of St. Mary’s, Parent Trap, Going my Way, Angels with Dirty Faces, Sound of Music and Song of Bernadette.

So it is understandable that audiences seeking entertainment less likely to offend a drunken sailor than the average TV show or random choice at a local theater would look to what are considered old classics – relying on the myth that movies made just before, during and right after World War II would aspire to a higher standard of morality than an early morning staggering Bourbon Street denizen. That old classic movies were — classy.

I hate to be the one to disabuse you of this illusion but…they were often – not.

Don’t get me wrong. I love old classics and I highly recommend them – with cautions. I’ve oft mentioned to our kids that it isn’t so much that movies, by and large, were made BETTER a long time ago than they are today, it’s just that the ones we still watch today were the “cream of the crop”, the ones which would, naturally stand the test of time. There were then, just as there are now, MORE than a fair share of stinkers. But, 50 or even 20 years from now, the ones at the theater today, which continue to attract attention later, are likely to be those of an especially high quality of: acting, plot, cinematography, soundtrack, special effects, or a combination. And they will be remembered when others will have been long forgotten.

BUT this does not mean the movies we now remember from 30, 50 or even going on a solid century ago were unerringly squeaky clean or held to a sterling character of righteous behavior.

One such example is Now, Voyager. The title is gleaned from the poem, “The Untold Want” by Walt Whitman (a man not exactly of pristine rectitude himself). The phrase hearkens to the advice given to Charlotte Vale (Bette Davis), the lead character in Now, Voyager by her psychiatrist, (Claude Rains). Charlotte is a drab and emotionally abused spinster, who is sent to go forth and seek adventure and a full life, to “Now, Voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find.”

This is all well and good as she disentangles herself from her bitter, possessive harpy of a mother (Gladys Cooper) to blossom into a self-respecting beautiful woman. But when she decides to occupy herself on a cruise with the affections of a philandering married man, Jerry (Paul Henreid) the movie degenerates into a torrid love affair which spends the majority of the rest of the movie rationalizing why he should refocus his affections on the already reconstructed Charlotte who, by all accounts, suffered previously from the same dowdy, ignored life in which Jerry has abandoned his own wife. In other words, why should he spend his time trying to make a beautiful woman out of his own wife when he can forego all that work and effort by exploiting this vulnerable woman at his fingertips. Of course, the answer, resoundingly given by the movie is —- Why NOT?

So off Jerry goes with Charlotte, wooing then bedding a more than willing Charlotte. Charlotte justifies her dalliance with a man already taken and with a family, in part, by the knowledge that Jerry’s daughter, Tina, is lonely and unwanted by her own mother, Jerry’s wife. There’s definitely something Freudian or dysfunctionally “Elektra”  in Charlotte’s behavior.

Elektra was Oedipus’ daughter, if that gives you a clue. And while this theory is, as Hamlet might say, “more honor’d in the breach,” as it is now universally ridiculed, the Elektra Complex theory was postulated by Carl Jung in 1913 and not yet fully discredited in 1942 when Now, Voyager was released. So there definitely would be a certain armchair psychologist’s nod of understanding, if not approval, by audience members of that time, assuming that Charlotte is taking a certain subtle vengeance on her shrewish and uncaring mother by sleeping with the husband of a woman with a similar personality.

This is not to say it is a badly DONE movie. For its stylized time and manner it is extremely well done. Beautifully tailored costumes, often hand-picked by Bette Davis, herself, for the character of Charlotte; acting which, for that era, was at its height. The extraordinarily and rightly acclaimed Bette Davis and Gladys Cooper won Oscar nominations (back when it meant something), respectively, for best actress, as Charlotte, and  best supporting actress, as Charlotte’s horrible mother.

Bette Davis was one of the Grand Dames of Hollywood. Strong, intelligent, forceful in a largely male dominated industry, she was not at all shy about insisting on her own way of doing things – pressing for changes in everything from script to costuming for the advancement of the film she was in, Davis was a true talent who respected her craft and, like other brilliant later actors such as Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep, did not shy from making herself unattractive for her role. Almost six decades of films include: the literature based Of Human Bondage and The Corn is Green, the filming of stageplays like Little Foxes and The Whales of August, the psychological horror Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?, the expose on the manipulative often meaningless lives of famous actors in All About Eve. From comedy to horror to drawing room romance, there is something for everyone in Ms. Davis’ repertoire of films. And she could convey, with a nod or raised eyebrow, more than many performers today can in five minutes of screen time.

Paul Heinreid, the noble and self-sacrificing Victor from Casablanca, here is at his subtly slimy best, weaseling his way into Charlotte’s fully consenting bed.

Max Steiner won for best music. The black and white filming by Sol Polito makes the most of the gray emotional and moral areas in which the characters live.

And on a personal note it is one of the few movies I’ve seen in which Claude Rains’ character, in this case Dr. Jaquith, Charlotte’s caring psychiatrist, is a completely good guy. His usual fare is the likes of the insane Invisible Man, the evil Earl of Hertford from Prince and the Pauper, the wicked caricature of Prince John in Errol Flynn’s The Adventures of Robin Hood, and the morally murky Capt. Renault from Casablanca – delightful characters all. But seeing him as a squeaky clean white hat was refreshing.

So the quality of the production itself was quite high.

But the most troubling part about this whole movie is the way in which the audience is openly being lead and manipulated into a position of accessory guilt to an adulterous affair. We are meant to sympathize with both Charlotte, who knowingly accepts the advances of a married man, and Jerry, a flat out cad, who flirts and schmoozes his way into a vulnerable woman’s arms, justifying his behavior with possibly one of the oldest pickup lines in history: my wife just doesn’t understand me the way you do. While he doesn’t actually say these words, the sentiment is obvious as he parades out an exceptionally unattractive picture of his wife with his two daughters.

What struck me was how much Jerry’s wife reminded me of pre-transformation Charlotte – dowdy, over-weight, dressed in an unflattering tent, sour expression. And there’s zero excuse for Jerry not to make the same connection, as Charlotte shares an old family picture in which Charlotte appears in her most unappealing frumpiness. Jerry even asks, in one of the most indelicate, foot-in-mouth comments in movie history, who the old fat woman is. So the comparison can not have been lost on him: that, if Charlotte can make this physical transformation so complete and that with a bit of love from him can blossom emotionally, why can he not aid his own wife in such a transformation – or at least TRY!

The film makers appeared not to have made this connection themselves despite its incredibly blatant obviousness. Jerry could see the swan Charlotte became but refused to see anything but the Ugly Duckling his wife was. I suspect it was because it would have been too much trouble for him to do all that work.

Meanwhile, Charlotte, through a set of happenstances, meets and informally adopts Tina, Jerry’s maternally neglected daughter, transforming Tina from a moody self-loathing adolescent into a happy bubbly child. This is supposed to amend for the diverting of Jerry’s allegiances from his family to herself, his mistress (emotionally, at that point, if not carnally).

In the end, Jerry and Charlotte are to remain physically chaste as Dr. Jaquith’s sole contingent proviso for his endorsement of Charlotte’s retention of Tina. In fact, this will become the string by which Charlotte will hold Jerry emotionally hostage for the rest of his life. To adapt Rhett Butler’s comments to Scarlett about the object of SCARLETT’S infatuation, Ashley Wilkes: [Jerry] can’t be mentally faithful to his wife – and won’t be unfaithful to her technically [aside from that one time in Rio].

As my mother used to say: it takes two to Tango, and I have no doubt that Jerry’s wife was complicit in her own marital undoing. But similarly we are never shown her side of the story either. As Jerry, no doubt, felt unappreciated, Jerry’s wife too would have her own side of the story showing her not to be the sole perpetrator in the murder of their marriage.

I finished the movie noting this was one of the first in a long series of movies intended to assuage the guilty conscience of men who wish to abandon their familial responsibilities in pursuit of a fresh bit of — adventure, the list of which notably includes the most tragic and lamentable Toy Story 4, in which Woody callously walks away from “his” child to chase after Boo Peep’s bustle. SEE REVIEW HERE

Now, Voyager could have utilized the brilliant and deep treasure trove of talent and experience to create a positive and productive tale of the healing of a wounded marriage. Perhaps even through his relationship with Charlotte, learning how to nurture his “hopeless” cause wife into a beautiful woman, as he helped Charlotte, and rekindling his marital relationship with his wife. Instead, though listed among one of the “greats” in cinematic history, this “classic” is just another in a long line of movies without a true moral compass or conscience, justifying the devastation wrought but never seen by a husband and father’s illicit behavior. CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE ON RUTH INSTITUTE WEBSITE

 

DR. WHO AND THE OOD – A TONGUE-IN-CHEEK WARNING?

Just about every sentient creature in the known universe has at least heard of Dr Who. Not surprising, since the show has been around since the JFK assassination. No really. As in Dr. Who’s November 23, 1963 premiere was briefly postponed in the UK for coverage of the horrific tragedy which had taken place the day before.

But for the benefit of the two or three people left in our solar system who do not know “WHO” – ahem – the good doctor is: Dr. Who is a British TV show about a Time Lord, an Earth-protecting alien from the lost planet Gallifrey, who travels around in a T.A.R.D.I.S. (Time and Relative Dimension in Space) – a sentient vehicle which looks like a British telephone booth – which takes him and his chosen companions to different times and places, usually of the Doctor’s choosing, but occasionally places where the TARDIS thinks he needs to be. And as though he were Superman’s nerdy British cousin, Dr. Who uses his brains, and plot convenient tech to do good, and usually dangerous, deeds across the multi-verse.

And as a side note, interesting, but somewhat irrelevant to the purposes of this article, in the most brilliant show contrivance in history, when the lead actor wishes to depart or his ratings drop they “kill” the current one off so that a “new”, but the same, Doctor “regenerates” into a different looking body. So you have the same character but with a completely different actor and personality. Soooo – since the latest incarnation regenerated into a woman the pronouns above could be he OR she.

With this kind of an intro, it should raise no eyebrows to learn that Dr. Who has run across more and weirder creatures than Star Trek and Star Wars combined: from flirting lady trees, to space whales that can carry all of England on its back, Cybermen and Daleks, vampire fish masquerading as people, water-bourne parasitic Martians which turn normal humans into water spewing zombies, disembodied vapor creatures who live in suns, the TARDIS herself (yes, she is a female), terrifying and untraceable hypnotic monsters who live in intense radiation on a planet with sapphire waterfalls, two-dimensional beings (and yes, that was a particularly creative episode), Western cybernetically enhanced victims of war crime experimentation, and psychotic Time Lords; NOT to mention the famous and infamous throughout history: Charles Dickens haunted by ghosts, Lady Pompadour pursued by robots, Shakespeare tormented by witches, Vincent Van Gogh (possibly my favorite episode) chasing a monster, President Nixon, Elizabeth I, Queen Victoria, and the prototype for Robin Hood.

BUT – one of the Oodest – or rather – Oddest of them all are the – Ood. Normally docile, meditative, both telepathic and empathic, they carry a portion of their brain — on the outside, holding it at all times. Come to think of it now I see why they are docile – kind of tough to wield a weapon while jostling a chunk of your cerebrum in the other hand – NOT to mention the vulnerability of it. Their sensitivity and awareness, their connectivity to other creature’s minds, their constant attention to this fragile link with all the other minds and thoughts of so many other creatures, their constant input of images and emotions of those around them – make them vulnerable to corruption by more powerful telepathic minds with evil intent … or even to enslavement. As they spend all their time continually monitoring the Ood hive mentality of their interconnectedness, it has engendered in them a subservience and lack of independence which crippled their society. At one time their slave masters even physically removed that external portion of their brain in order to replace it with a mechanized one in order to more easily control them, but which backfired on the slave masters allowing the suppressed Ood rage to turn them blindly homicidal.

While it is always nice, it is not always pre-requisite to have a logical basis for science fiction generated creatures’ unique characteristics. Nonetheless I couldn’t help but play the “what if” game, and wonder, if such a creature existed, why might God, in His infinite wisdom, craft or allow such a creature, so uniquely hobbled, to evolve? This one attribute’s disadvantages seemed to so spectacularly outweigh its benefits that it held their entire civilization’s progress back, dragging like an anchor against the promise of their potential development.

So I continued to puzzle. How might such a singularly disadvantageous and peculiar physical attribute EVER been catalyzed to manifest itself? I wondered how the concept of a portion of one’s brain being held in one’s hand EVER came about……..

Then it occurred to me.

F — Ood for thought, certainly.