Guest post by Ian Lueck, a good friend of Movie Matrimony and a regular patron of the Trylon Microcinema, the best little theater that could in the Twin Cities.
Hi, Ian Lueck again!
Dave and Chelsea have graciously allowed me to use this lonely blog
space once again for another review round-up of movies I’ve watched at The
Trylon and The Heights theaters. This
post will consist of roughly the first half of 2014. There was a period when I wasn’t going to
either theater very much, but lately I’ve been making up for that (“Just when I
think I’m out, they PULL ME BACK IN!”). There was a lot of great programming and interesting viewing to be had, so without further ado, here are my thoughts on what I’ve watched so
far: |
| A stronger, non-singing musical moment. |
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| Scandalous! |
devised during February and March 2014 was showing pre-code films at The Heights. For those that don’t know, this is referring to the Hays Code, a pre-cursor to the MPAA, which prevented films from getting TOO racy or violent. So this run of films was meant to show what Hollywood films were like before its widespread adoption in 1934. Of course, it goes without saying that the execution of the subject matter in these films is positively tame compared to today, but if you watch these movies in the context of when they were made, it’s fascinating what the Hays Code cracked down on. For instance, the topic of sex outside of marriage was frowned upon, which is pretty much the entire plot point to “Baby Face”. A young woman, Lily, played by Barbara Stanwyck, is stuck in a dead-end job for her father until he’s killed in an explosion. She decides to use this opportunity to move to the city and make a name for herself, and she finds that the easiest way to climb the corporate ladder is to, um, be easy. It’s difficult to make this subject matter funny, but somehow they found a way. Speaking of funny: When I saw this in theater, a few in the audience cheered when Stanwyck’s name first appeared in the opening credits, and hissed when one of the antagonist’s names appeared. It felt like what I assume seeing a movie in the ‘30s was, when hissing was more common.
Eraserhead (1977): In an
unnamed, sparsely populated city, a tall-haired, stoic man learns that his
distraught girlfriend is pregnant; the resulting baby is incredibly premature
and doesn’t even look human. What
follows is the man slowly being driven insane by the crying freak of nature.
I’ll admit: When I first finished this movie, I hated it.
Thought it was unpleasant garbage. My philosophy was, a movie should entertain
me, and this didn’t; it felt more like something to be endured, not enjoyed.
Part of that was due to the gross deformed baby, but also the musique concrete
(that is, environmental noises) which took the place of a traditional
soundtrack and got overbearing (read: LOUD) at times.
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| Also features an all-time movie hairdo. |
But perhaps the biggest appreciation came from its meaning.
This is one of those films where it can be interpreted numerous ways. The same
can be said for art. Doesn’t that, by definition, make this movie art? And
shouldn’t it be recognized for that, even if one doesn’t particularly enjoy it?
I think so. Some have theorized that the movie takes place in a
post-apocalyptic future, possibly one ravaged by a nuclear war: Hence the
decrepit buildings, the lack of many people, the unstable characters, and the
mutated offspring. However, I think to me, the movie makes most sense as a
nightmare being had by the main character. Not only does the movie have the
“feel” of a dream in its shortage of dialog, unorthodox pacing, surreal mood
swings of most every character, abrupt cutting, and the main character
seemingly dying and coming back to life in the next scene, but the themes in
the movie are pretty obvious adult fears. I think most every parent-to-be has
worries that their child will be born disfigured (as was certainly the case
here), or that their spouse will abandon them to take care of the child alone,
or that someone will seduce them into being unfaithful to their spouse (as was
the case with the neighbor across the hall), or that they will be driven so mad
as to commit infanticide. And that’s not even mentioning the unrealistically
small living quarters where a parent couldn’t even go to another room to escape
their child’s incessant crying. Heck, there are even little observations about
married life that people new to the experience get frustrated with, like
hogging the covers. And the movie fades to white at the end, perhaps
symbolizing the person waking up.
Don’t get me wrong, this movie still isn’t really for me,
and I have no desire to re-watch it anytime soon. But sometimes you just have
to step back and think about it some more instead of going for a gut reaction,
and that was the case with Eraserhead.
French Connection, The (1971):
This classic crime drama/action movie put Gene Hackman on the map, and
it’s no wonder: He gives a typically
intense performance in his role as no-nonsense detective Popeye Doyle, trying
to crack a French drug smuggling ring in New York. Of course, the highlights that everyone
always brings up are a couple chase sequences, one in the subway (which is
surprisingly funny in all the “hopping on and off the train before the doors
close” psych-outs that the pursuer and criminal perform) and another involving
Doyle chasing a light rail in a car from below, that prove you don’t need
special effects to make an engaging action scene. If anything, I can appreciate it more,
because you know the actors were actually driving on a real street with
non-actors, not transplanted in front of a green screen.
But enough of that; let’s talk about the ending. (spoilers ahead!) The night I saw the movie, a lot of audience members were audibly surprised how abrupt the ending was, and one was even dissatisfied. For those who haven’t seen it: The movie ends right in the middle of Popeye searching for a drug dealer in an abandoned building, a gunshot goes off, and suddenly we get “where are they now?” info on the criminals, most of whom got off scot-free or had their sentences reduced. Now I’d be lying if I said the ending wasn’t unsatisfying from the perspective of “the good guy catches the crooks”. But I think a nice neat little ending where Popeye succeeds would undermine the gritty realism that the movie presents. In real life, criminals DO get away with things (sad, but true), whether it be legal loopholes or plea bargains or insufficient evidence or easily-swayed juries. It’s a downer, but it’s honest.
French Connection II, The (1975):
...And then we come to the sequel, which has good intentions but mostly
falls flat. This movie relocates Popeye
to France, where he’s determined to find one of the criminals that got away in
the first movie. I don’t have a problem
with the change of locale; that’s actually something I approve of, since it
would’ve been very easy to do a rehash of the first movie, and it’s neat to see
Popeye be a fish-out-of-water where it’s even less likely he can find his man
in this alien landscape. My problem is,
the movie doesn’t even come close to providing the fast-paced thrills of the
first movie. We get a very brief foot
chase towards the beginning, a shootout at the docks which ends in a flood, and
a final foot chase where Popeye chases the villain, who’s on a cable car (and
later, a boat). That’s it. It’s quite a letdown. But worse yet, there’s an incredibly lengthy
sequence in the middle of the movie where a kidnapped Popeye is forced by the
villains in becoming addicted to heroin, and goes cold turkey with the help of
his French cop partner. It showcases
withdrawal symptoms quite well (though it’s not exactly entertaining), but the
problem is, the story grinds to a halt throughout all this. By the time he finally has overcome his
cravings (which takes a good half hour!), I didn’t care anymore and just wanted
the movie to be over. And oddly, when it
finally does, it’s incredibly abrupt, unsatisfying, and confusing (how in the
world did Popeye catch up to the villain?
They never really explain it!).
The movie has some good moments, mostly Popeye butting heads
with his French partner and just trying to understand people, but overall this
was a disappointing sequel.
I’m No Angel (1933): This
pre-code Mae West film gets off to a slightly slow start, but soon I was
smiling widely at her infinite amount of sultry one-liners. I find it interesting that The Heights showed
two movies in a row where the focus was on a woman sleeping her way to the
top. Or at least, that was the
suggestion; there’s an amusing trial sequence towards the end of “I’m No Angel”
where West’s character refutes how much of a female stud she is. But unlike “Baby Face”, this one doesn’t veer
into dramatic territory in the last act, and it looks more consistent because
of it. (and yes, this is the film where
West says her infamous “Come up and see me” line)
Jerk, The (1979): Comedian
Steve Martin plays the titular character named Navin, a white guy brought up by
a black family in the poor, backwater south, who one day decides to pursue the
American Dream and leaves home, hopping from one job to another (gas station
attendant, carny). Along the way, he falls
in love and even manages to strike it rich with an invention he inadvertently
created, but then blows it all. I guess
my biggest problem with the movie is that the title is a misnomer; “jerk” would
imply that Navin is a rude, mean, pompous, arrogant individual, but in reality
he’s just a clueless hillbilly who stumbles through adult life with a naïve
optimism, even when things are going incredibly badly for him. How is that a jerk again? I suppose you could argue he becomes a jerk
when he gets wealthy, but even that’s debatable. Really, the guy just doesn’t know how to act,
and that’s the whole joke of the movie.
Sometimes the joke works, sometimes it doesn’t. I did laugh heartily quite a few times during
“The Jerk”, but part of me felt the movie could’ve been stronger, and I suspect
it’s because Steve Martin plays the character more as an over-the-top
caricature, someone who’s virtually impossible to identify with. As a result, I always felt at arm’s length
with the material. Still, I laughed enough
that I felt it was worth my time to see.
Best part of the movie? The
ending, where the family that adopted Navin also strike it rich, and say
they’re going to buy a bigger house. Cut
to a slightly less crappy looking, only marginally bigger shack. |
| Alec Guiness, in all eight of his roles. Respect. |
Ladykillers, The (1955):
A gang of five thieves (including Alec Guinness, Herbert Lom, and Peter
Sellers) con their way into renting an old lady’s room, then pull off a
heist. However, they’re caught red
handed by the old lady, and they try to decide what to do about the woman who
knows too much.
Reviewing the original Ladykillers objectively is difficult
because inevitably, comparisons will be made with its 2004 remake by the Coen
Brothers. Both versions have their
merits, but if I had to pick a favorite (and I know I’m in the minority on
this), I have to pick the remake. I just
found the characters more distinct and funny, the southern music was better,
the heist was more ingenious, and there are certain elements which the original
lacked (such as the old woman being influenced by her deceased husband’s stern
portrait). However, the original has
some things that the 2004 movie lacks, too, such as the cramped England house,
which is a more distinct setting than the typical southern house in the remake. The “I’ve called the cops and they’ll be here
any minute” line gives the movie a more urgent feel, and I like how the crooks
tried to get the old lady to feel like she was an accomplice so she wouldn’t
turn them in. Talk about temptation!
My verdict? See both
movies and decide for yourself. As both
movies take different executions on the same basic story, you don’t feel like
you’re wasting your time by watching the same thing twice (hello, Gus Van
Sant’s Psycho!).
Lavender Hill Mob (1951): A
heist movie starring Alec Guinness. As
with a lot of heist movies, things get off to a slow start but pick up really
quickly once the scheme starts. And like
any good heist movie, things go wrong with the well-laid plan and that makes
things interesting. My favorite part
during said sequence is when two of the crooks are tailing a group of
grade-school girls, who have unknowingly purchased Eiffel Tower miniatures that
are, in reality, made of gold that the crooks are trying to smuggle. At one point, the girls get on a cruise ship,
and two of the crooks have tons of difficulty getting on the ship, as they have
to purchase a ticket, then get their passports stamped, then go through baggage
inspection, then go through customs, all while trying to do it as fast as possible. That’s great farce. I also enjoyed the ending, a great
"reversal of expectations" gag.
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| Pretty much sums up the movie. |
Our Man in Havana (1959):
James Wormold, a mild-mannered British vacuum salesman living in Cuba
(played by Alec Guinness) is brought into the British secret service, and is
told to recruit more agents. However, he
send them fictitious info, including passing off an ordinary vacuum cleaner as
a secret weapon, one of the movie’s funniest moments. This fibbing gets Wormold in hot water when
some enemies are intent on killing him, despite that he obviously poses no
threat. There's a classic banquet scene
where they play the old "switcheroo" with drinks and food, tense and
funny at the same time. A good movie
with well-done Cuban atmosphere and a plot which subverts certain expectations
of the genre.
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| So much running. |
Tunes of Glory (1960): Saw
this one with my parents, their first time at the Trylon. It was somewhat misleading advertising to put
this in with the other Alec Guinness comedy films, because this isn't really a
comedy at all. It's more of a “power
struggle” movie at a Scottish boot camp during World War II. That is, two opposing commanders, one played
by Alec Guinness as more of a light-hearted “one of the boys”, and another who
is taking over his unit and is more of a by-the-book hard-ass, butting heads
over how best to run the troop. Things
get more interesting when Guinness slugs a man who happens to be an officer,
and the new commander becomes unpopular for going forward with a court
martial. Despite being an outlier in
that film series, Tunes of Glory is engaging because you have sympathy for both
Guinness (who's losing the group that he's grown with) and the new leader who
doesn't quite fit in. And without
spoiling anything, the ending is genuinely moving.
Wizard of Oz, The (1939):
The Heights gave a 75th anniversary screening of the movie (with a good
quality print at that), which packed the house.
Literally, I didn’t see any empty seats.
That always warms my heart to see old movies can still draw crowds, even
though this one has the upper hand of being really famous. Interestingly, while I had seen The Wizard of
Oz as a child, it was never a movie I watched over and over. So seeing it as an adult was, for all means
and purposes, my “first time”. Luckily,
it was a good movie, tightly told and full of memorable musical numbers and
characters. I would estimate that at
least 2/3 of the moments in the film have been parodied or referenced in some
fashion, meaning that if you watch it today, it’s one meme after another (and
that’s a good thing in this case). Only
one nagging problem: They never did
resolve the subplot where Miss Gulch wanted to put down Toto. So when Dorothy wakes up from the dream,
isn’t Toto still destined to be taken away from her again? Is this really a downer ending in
disguise? Other than that, it was a good
movie but the experience of seeing such an old movie with a large crowd was the
real highlight.
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| Now, grab some friends and head over to the Trylon! |
