The Thin Red Line

I've not seen the 1960s film version of James Jones' novel, which is supposed to be more in sync with the novel, and starring Keir Dullea (2001: A Space Odyssey), but Terrence Malick's The Thin Red Line (1998) is his greatest film.

I recall seeing it in the theaters, and immediately knew this was a great film, way beyond Steven Spielberg's schlockfest on D-Day and after, Saving Private Ryan.

A clip:

Happy 65th B-Day D-Day!

Don't let Spielberg's bad movie ruin the reflection of this day.

"Did I live a good life? Tell me I'm a good man..."

Here's a quick doc:

The Pride Of The Yankees

While a New York Yankees fan, and a Lou Gehrig and Gary Cooper fan (compare him to John Wayne and Coop is superior in every way as an actor), the film The Pride Of The Yankees has always been only mildly entertaining to me. Possibly because it's too Hollywoody, but also because it never really cores into Gehrig's character.

Also, background characters like Babe Ruth (who played himself) are mere stereotypes. Still, overall, an enjoyable film, and even I am still moved by Coop's recreation of the real Gehrig's final speech at Yankee Stadium:

Willard

An odd little movie I recall seeing as a child- in theaters or on tv, I don't recall.

This is poor video quality, but, you gets whats ya pays for, and this is free from Google:

Scared Straight

This was a landmark documentary in 1978.

It's a bit over the top, but I knew many people like the kids and those like the cons.

The original doc has the the audio stripped, but here is a snippet that gets to the core of the shit:

Mayor Of The Sunset Strip

Been busy in the last few weeks, sorting through my deceased mom's things, tying up loose financial and personal ends, so have had zero time to watch any films to review. Consequently I've been rewatching some docs from the last few years.

Mayor of the Sunset Strip is one of them. In my review I write:

'The only moment we don’t pity Rodney is when his pal and film producer, Chris Carter, an ex-rocker from 1980s schlock band Glamorama, gets a similar radio show to Rodney’s on a rival station. Rodney drops the F-bomb and sticks his middle finger at the camera. One senses this moment, which Rodney didn’t want filmed, is perhaps the last gasp of humanity in a man reduced to a dull human patina, lacking the wit of an Andy Warhol to post-modernize his vapidity. George Hickenlooper, a noted documentarian, misses the target in this film. Not because Rodney’s such a cipher, but because even a vacuum has potential energy. What do we know about ourselves or the man when the film ends that we didn’t know within the first few minutes? Celebrity is an obsession that saps the soul. Rodney is Exhibit A- assuming there was anything to sap to begin with, a debatable point.'

In rewatching, the only addendum to my review I might add is that this film is even more sad, for not only is Rodney Bingenheimer a cipher, but the film is, in many ways, utterly pointless. Contrasted to The Kid Stays In The Picture, another doc on fame and its costs, this film does not measure up, even if one does indeed feel badly for Rodney.

Herein the whole film:

Sokurov's Father and Son (2003)

Sokurov's second installation of an anticipated trilogy started with Mother and Son (1996). Seven years after, Sokurov returned to a similar intimate familial theme (this time a young son and his father). The movie's content lacks a significant depth, yet it has Sokurov's beautiful imagery, and that makes it worthy if you're in the mood of well-crafted visual compositions. The movie opens to a zoom shot that evokes the inaugurating sequence in Resnais' Hiroshima Mon Amour: a father trying to calm his son after a nightmare replaces the famous image of the two lovers emerging from the sand and remains of the atomic bomb, interestingly enough both scenes share a notable eroticism.
Father and Son paints a very questionable male-bonding theme: nudity, physical proximity, and the tension between the two men add an unsettling feeling in the viewer. To be clear this didn't add any substance to the material. Some scenes: early in the movie the camera is playfully flirting with the young couple. The movie ends on a thematic and visual symmetry (a dream also), a smart trick by Sokurov was the fact that the viewer can not identify whose dream (or nightmare) it was: the father or the son.
Overall, worth seeing for its imagery. This is the Trailer.

WASSIM

The Fog Of War And The Law Of Unintended Consequences

I thought of the titular principle last night whilst watching a dreary pseudo-doc on ABC, called Earth 2100.

Naturally, almost everything that could go wrong on the next 91 years is shown to go wrong. But, reality shows that with every prediction, subsequent predictions become cloudier. While we in 2009 worry of global warming, just 50 years ago such was inconceivable. In 50 years the problems that dominate likely will be ones we have no clue of now. And this is true even if we dawdle as a species with our current problems. But the film makes it seem as if nothing can stop our descent into a new dark Ages; although the two hour film ends with a 10 minute 'alternate' paradisical view of 2100. Within the next few decades we will have quantum computers, the ability to fight disease genetically, not just biologically. We will be able to master genetic farming, have colonies in space, and- as with the bad stuff- have other good consequences I cannot foresee.

This real 'reality' of indeterminacy reminded me of the great Errol Morris documentary The Fog Of War, which explains its title as the inability to predict the outcome of war after it begins, despite the best laid plans.

The thing that annoys me the most about such fluff as Earth 2100 is that extremists on the left believe such things with the same ease as Right Wing fanatics believe such nonsense that President Obama is a Manchurian Candidate for Moslems.

Reality is 'always' far more complex than such simpletons realize, which is why the greatest artists and art is never simplistic as Earth 2100.

Here's the whole film- a classic:

Jackson Potluck.

I watched the movie Pollock the other night just for fun, since it happens to be one of my favorite biopics. The acting is excellent and they did a great job of adding in little detail, to the point where you can't tall it's Ed Harris or the real Potluck himself. See? They could be twins.

Ed Harris apparently did those paintings that were used in the film, which says something about Pollock's talent I guess. As an artist, he gives me a headache, and the last half hour or so (when Jennifer Connelly enters the picture) the movie goes down the crapper. I pretty much just skip that part, and think the film should have ended 1/2 hr sooner. It's a movie I like, but it's certainly not a great film.

And I must add that one of the best things about this film is the music that appears throughout. Here's the trailer in Italian.



And in searching for the Pollock trailer, I found this one on the life of Klimt starring John Malkovich. Looks kind of pretentious:



It's always funny how they'll glorify great artists who were rejected in their day, only to make movies about them being rejected years later. Hmm. And the patterns don't ever change.

Fantastic Planet

This French and Czechoslovakian cartoon has always stuck with me. I first saw it over 30 years ago. The animation is not that good, but stylized, with an interesting script.

At this same time, 1973, Hanna-Barbera schlock dominated American animation.