“All right, Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my close-up.” This is one of the most legendary lines in movie history, and until seeing this film I didn’t know where it came from. Want another famous scene? Try the opening of the film with a body floating in the middle of a swimming pool, as the narrator begins his sad tale.
Iconic is really one of the best ways to describe this film. The acting is incredible and the writing is bang on. The story is certainly bold for the time it was made- it’s a scathing critique of the way movie studios of the day worked. In all likelihood, this film probably should have been shunned, yet it was embraced.
Sunset Blvd. is the tale of a washed up screenwriter who, at the end of his rope, happens to stumble upon a former silent film star who had been exiled from the studio system with the advent of sound. Delusional, the actress still thinks she’s hot property and that the studios are begging for her return. She takes in the bumbling screenwriter and nearly turns him into her slave, controlling what he does and where he goes, all the while demanding he come up with a suitable script for her to return to Hollywood glory with.
I feel that it got the short end of the stick by not winning Best Picture at the Academy Awards. Dramatic, demented, and dynamic, Sunset Blvd. is a true work of cinematic art, despite a few slow parts (which has more to do with the break-neck pace of the films I grew up with). This is a film for those who love the craft. I highly recommend it.
Sadly, I think the cultural consciousness of this film has resulted in what seems like a low rating. Hitchcock is nothing short of amazing, but with all the references to Rear Window in TV and other movies, it just didn’t hold me like it was supposed to.
Perhaps I need to watch it again, but knowing the ending without ever seeing the film really kills the momentum it tries to build throughout. Jimmy Stewart is terrific as always, playing a wheelchair bound photographer stuck in his apartment until he has his leg cast removed. It’s an interesting setup that allows him to spy on his neighbors for lack of anything better to do. Without the injury, he’d simply seem nosey and rude.
Most of the suspense and intrigue comes from what we see through Stewart’s telephoto lens. We can only really see what’s going on, leaving us as clueless as Stewart himself. His paranoid ponderings ask our questions for us and his suspicions launch us into a furor. At least they were meant to. Like I said, the cultural consciousness of the film has all but hampered its intention to thrill us.
Having met some artsy fartsy types in high school and especially college, I can understand why this movie got so much praise. In case it hasn’t been made clear yet, let me address this issue right now- I am not an artsy-fartsy fruitball who goes gaga over campy Broadway-esque productions that force your suspension of disbelief to work overtime to make the absurdity assaulting your eyes palatable. Even if you’re doing a musical, there’s still a way to get the job done right and make it seem realistic.
Needless to say, Moulin Rouge! is not that movie.
It’s not terrible though. The story works, and could potentially make for a genuinely enjoyable feature, but something in the execution plagues this movie, and his name is Baz Luhrmann. His frenetic style of directing, with a cacophony of vivid colors and an endless supply of jerky camera movements is perfect for the ADD generation and the fruitball Academy members and critics who I do not and will never see eye to eye with.
On top of all this, the film is rife with camp and boisterous overacting. And the music! Whoever thought that using a few lines from Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” would be a clever out-of-context use for a highly recognizable piece of nostalgia should be shot in the public square. Nirvana songs do not belong in fruitball musicals. If they were trying to make it seem like the music department couldn’t come up with anything original and enchanting with all the out of context lyrics that were mish-mashed together, they did a good job.
The sum of all this left me feeling like I had been assaulted rather than entertained. There’s just too much trying to be done in this film, and when a director doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone, you end up on the outside looking in at the film, rather than being immersed into its world. I’m not a big romance guy, so it doesn’t help that the cheese ball love affair is overblown, idealizing the bohemian lifestyle and making it seem like some kind of blissful ignorance where down-on-their-luck writers struggle to make a living but it’s ok, because they have a song in their head, love in their heart, and friends who blah blah blah!
If they’d have portrayed the bohemian life as it really was (and some would say still is), there’d be more urgency to the story, and the love affair even more heart-wrenching. But what you’ve got with Moulin Rouge! is a film that could have used a few more rewrites, a smaller budget and a different director. The semi-solid story makes up for a lot of its shortcomings.
I’m finally willing to admit that Return of the Jedi is inferior to the first two films of the Star Wars saga. There, I said it. Jedi has always been at least tied with the original Star Wars as my favorite of the bunch. Maybe it’s because they mark the beginning and the end of the original trilogy, or maybe I just like Princess Leia in a gold bikini.
Jedi brings the beloved story of Star Wars to a close. It’s not necessarily the ending everyone was expecting, so there is room for complaint if your hopes for the series weren’t quite met. Not everyone will be pleased with the story’s resolution. I was. I think that Jedi brings the series to a fitting end, despite recycling a little conflict. The Empire builds a second Death Star. Not exactly original, but who cares! We Star Wars geeks embrace the challenge of squaring off against another battle station. The stakes are also much higher this time, making it more than just a second round.
While returning to many familiar themes, the music of Jedi isn’t quite as memorable. Outside of Jabba’s palace band and the intro piece to the fight above the Sarlaac, there aren’t many new musical pieces that are memorable. While not really a problem, as the revisited themes are epic in and of themselves, it does take away some minor points from the film.
Visual effects are kicked up yet another notch, providing us with amazing fight scenes and one heck of a journey into the innards of the Death Star. Many claim that the Ewoks are the film’s undoing. I disagree, but I do acknowledge that they were a bit too cutesy and likely put George Lucas on the dark path to creating Jar Jar Binks. But we’re thinking happy thoughts here, so no more mentioning of the prequels.
While Return of the Jedi may be the weakest of the trilogy, it is still a great film. Lucas brought us the goods and pulled out all the stops. The pacing, story and adventure is right in line with its predecessors, and it provides an ending that very few will complain about, capping off what is quite possibly the most legendary film series in history.
It’s rather difficult to adopt the right mindset when viewing an old film like this. It’s hard to remember that what looks so cheesy now was actually quite terrifying back in the day. Fortunately, I was really impressed with The Wolf Man. It wasn’t very hard to see what audiences would have shrieked about and some of the film techniques that are employed are quite laudable despite their antiquity.
The Wolf Man was a completely original story, as opposed to Dracula and Frankenstein, which were based (somewhat loosely) off books. It documents the sad story of a well-to-do young man coming back to his hometown after many years and tragically falling prey to the subject of local lore. One night he rescues a passerby from a wolf attack but is bitten. As it turns out, the wolf was a werewolf, and the young man now becomes one when the moon is full.
Fast pacing (only 70 minutes long) thrusts the story along, barely giving the audience time to catch their breath between frights. It’s concise, it’s complete, and it’s convincing (for the standards of the day). With largely believable acting and a good sense at what makes us jump, it’s no wonder that The Wolf Man has become the stuff of legends and is held among the pinnacle of the early studio monster films.
“All right, Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my close-up.” This is one of the most legendary lines in movie history, and until seeing this film I didn’t know where it came from. Want another famous scene? Try the opening of the film with a body floating in the middle of a swimming pool, as the narrator begins his sad tale.
Sadly, I think the cultural consciousness of this film has resulted in what seems like a low rating. Hitchcock is nothing short of amazing, but with all the references to Rear Window in TV and other movies, it just didn’t hold me like it was supposed to.
Having met some artsy fartsy types in high school and especially college, I can understand why this movie got so much praise. In case it hasn’t been made clear yet, let me address this issue right now- I am not an artsy-fartsy fruitball who goes gaga over campy Broadway-esque productions that force your suspension of disbelief to work overtime to make the absurdity assaulting your eyes palatable. Even if you’re doing a musical, there’s still a way to get the job done right and make it seem realistic.
WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!
It’s rather difficult to adopt the right mindset when viewing an old film like this. It’s hard to remember that what looks so cheesy now was actually quite terrifying back in the day. Fortunately, I was really impressed with The Wolf Man. It wasn’t very hard to see what audiences would have shrieked about and some of the film techniques that are employed are quite laudable despite their antiquity.
