2018 Blindspot Pick #6: Some Like It Hot (1959)

Tags

Classics, Comedy, Romance

What do soup and summer days
And bedtime milk and big buffets
Have in common with your tea
And pie and wind and panini
And thoughts about celebrities
And temps for different types of skis?

Have you thought of it or not?
Yes, that’s right! Some like them hot.
Some also like them cold, and so
Which one are you, I’d like to know?
_______________________

MPAA rating: PG

Well, I’m still trying to catch up on my Blindspots, and since it’s been hot as blazes outside lately, Some Like It Hot seemed like a good choice for my next review. (For the record, I do not like it hot. I can’t wait for fall.) This is one of those classics among classics that it just seemed more and more wrong that I, as a movie lover, hadn’t seen it yet, which is exactly what this Blindspot series is for anyway. Now that I’ve seen it, I can recognize its special place in the pantheon of comedy, but there have been plenty of funnier movies since.

I don’t mean to badmouth a classic, since that is what Some Like It Hot is. Starting out more like a gangster movie than a comedy, the film follows the misadventures of two musicians Joe (Tony Curtis) and Jerry (Jack Lemmon), who keep finding themselves at the wrong place at the wrong time. When they happen to witness a mob massacre by the vengeful “Spats” Colombo (George Raft), they escape Chicago by dressing as women, calling themselves Josephine and Daphne, and joining an all-girl band on their way to Miami. Of course, things get inevitably complicated when Joe becomes attracted to fellow bandmate Sugar (Marilyn Monroe) and a millionaire (Joe E. Brown) improbably falls for Jerry.

I guess crossdressing is just inherently funny, at least in the movies. That’s what the AFI seems to think, placing Some Like It Hot at #1 on their list of top 100 comedies, with Tootsie right behind at #2. (Incidentally, Mrs. Doubtfire is at #67, and I love that one more than either of the others.) While Some Like It Hot had me consistently amused, especially once Curtis and Lemmon donned their feminine alter egos, I find it laughable that this would be considered the best comedy ever made, much less one of the greatest films overall.

Certainly, there are elements I can tell have influenced comedies since, such as Joe’s rush to change between his male and female clothes, much as Robin Williams did 34 years later. However, Joe does this in order to fool Sugar into believing he’s her wealthy dream man, which begs the question of how he thought he could get away with such a ploy in any lasting way, and his dishonesty not only makes the runtime a bit too long but is also blithely ignored when the truth comes to light, in contrast to the collective shock at the end of Tootsie or Mrs. Doubtfire. Lemmon, on the other hand, gets the best comedic scenes, sometimes struggling with his “femininity,” while other times losing himself in character.

As shameful as it is for a cinephile to admit, this is actually the first comedy I’ve seen of director Billy Wilder (I’ve at least watched his The Spirit of St. Louis) and the first film starring Marilyn Monroe. Wilder’s direction is beyond reproach, and he includes a few clever cinematic touches, like the repeated shots of “Spats” Colombo’s shoes to portend the approach of danger. Monroe had a greater challenge, though, since I had always associated her with her short-breathed, dumb blonde persona (which my VC can’t stand, for the record), but I was pleasantly surprised by her and her musical moments. Despite being a gold digger, her portrayal of Sugar was hardly one-note, even expressing weariness at her own “dumb blonde” proclivities, and I’m now much more interested than before in exploring her other iconic roles.

While I wouldn’t call Some Like It Hot the amazing movie it is commonly considered, it was still a good one and worthy to be called a classic. I finally got to understand the context for many familiar clips, such as the famous last line and that grating “poo poo pee doo” song parodied so perfectly by Ginger on Gilligan’s Island. So, complaints aside, I’d call this a successful and long overdue Blindspot pick. By the way, did you know it’s based off a 1935 French film called Fanfare of Love? I guess that’s another film I’ll have to check out for comparison’s sake some day.

Best line: (Sugar) “Water polo? Isn’t that terribly dangerous?”   (Joe, pretending to be rich) “I’ll say. I had two ponies drowned under me.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2018 S.G. Liput
584 Followers and Counting

 

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2018 Blindspot Pick #5: Sunshine (2007)

Tags

Drama, Horror, Sci-fi, Thriller

Some say because mankind began,
Someday we’ll meet our end.
It’s borrowed time we spend.

Now centuries or more before
That fateful day arrives,
We fear for future lives.

We doubt if such is simply fate.
Should we rage if we could
If that good night be good?

Inevitable it may be,
Yet life is valued right
By how its owners fight.

Is saving life postponing death?
Then may death hesitate,
However short the wait.
___________________

MPAA rating: R (for language and some violence)

I’m a little embarrassed to have fallen behind on my Blindspot series this year, only now getting to May’s pick. Though, in my defense, I have been busy graduating and looking for a new job in web design, so I think that’s a reasonable excuse. Oh, and I discovered a funny little show called Parks and Recreation, which has kind of distracted me from my typical movie-watching schedule. Even so, I’m trying to catch up this month, and Sunshine made for a welcome return to my Blindspot picks.

I was familiar with Sunshine’s music long before I had any intention of watching it, even placing it at #49 on my list of Top 50 Movie Scores. Much of the electronica from composer John Murphy and the band Underworld is complementary for a sci-fi film but unmemorable, yet “Adagio in D Minor” is an immortal cinematic track as far as I’m concerned, serving to heighten the emotion of two visually striking scenes.

There’s more than the score, though, to make Sunshine worth watching, not least of which is the diverse and recognizable cast, all astronauts aboard the Icarus II on a mission to save mankind by reigniting the sun with a giant bomb.  Cillian Murphy seems to be the lead as Robert Capa, a physicist in charge of the actual payload, while the rest of the crew include Michelle Yeoh, Benedict Wong, Rose Byrne, Cliff Curtis, Troy Garity, Hiroyuki Sanada (Lost alert!), and Chris Evans, who was between superhero roles at the time. Actually, it’s telling that five of those actors have made their way into superhero movies, and wait(!) Hiroyuki Sanada is supposedly cast in the next Avengers movie so it’s probably only a matter of time before Garity and Curtis make the leap too. The characters aren’t much more developed than the crew of the Nostromo in Alien (which wasn’t much when you think about it), but the actors do well in giving them distinct personalities and methods, though it was odd to learn that a lot of background information on each one was thought up yet intentionally left out.

I tend to enjoy the science fiction genre in general, and Sunshine had many of the ingredients I like, from intelligent problem solving in the face of disaster to a foreboding, often claustrophobic setting, plus a few creative subtleties, as when pictures of dead crewmen are momentarily glimpsed in the glare of flashlights. The script was also thought-provoking as it repeatedly put the characters in life-and-death positions in which the death option meant the death of mankind. As for the plot, it reminded me of a cross between the Firefly episode “Bushwhacked” (searching a derelict ship with a crazed danger on board) and  Alien: Covenant (picking up a distress signal that jeopardizes the mission, though Sunshine had a better reason for their following of said signal). I know some have criticized Sunshine for how the last third suddenly veers into slasher-style horror, but it didn’t seem incompatible with what came before and, if anything, strengthened the parallels to an Alien movie.

Directed by Danny Boyle, Sunshine has a lot in its favor, which makes its fate as a box-office failure even sadder, but it’s also far from perfect. It’s hard for me to fault the grand spacefaring visuals, but there were multiple scenes where I just wasn’t sure what I was looking at, whether because of the unique design of the ship or because the scene was drowned in sunlight or shielded in darkness. This is the only Blindspot I’ve watched twice, the second time with my VC, who had the same trouble but still enjoyed it, and I did find it easier to understand on the second go once I knew what was happening. Coupled with that objection is how the “monster” of the film was kept semi-concealed, not through shadowy editing but through camera distortions that just became overused.

In addition, for a film about the potential end of humanity, there’s very little spiritual dimension to it, only reminders of man being “stardust” and some religious ramblings of a madman. I always find it weird when disaster or apocalyptic movies seem to intentionally avoid or demonize religion, since that’s where many a mind goes when death draws near, and the fact that Cillian Murphy reportedly “converted” to atheism due to this film reveals how coldly unspiritual its underpinnings are.

Despite these qualms, Sunshine was still a sci-fi journey worth taking, buoyed by strong casting, effects, and music. You could almost say it’s a better Alien movie than most of the Alien sequels, and that’s without any aliens. While its fatalism can get heavy and its visuals require some thought to decipher, this is one more corner of science fiction I’m glad to check off the ol’ to-watch list.

Best line (showing writer Alex Garland knew his influences): (Mace) “We should split up.”   (Harvey) “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea….”   (Mace) “You’re probably right. We might get picked off one at a time by aliens.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2018 S.G. Liput
582 Followers and Counting

 

2018 Blindspot Pick #3: Boyhood (2014)

Tags

Drama

(In honor of this film’s broad picture of growing up in the 21st century, I wrote my own version of Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” focusing on 2000 to 2015, so it’s best sung to that tune.)

George Bush, Y2K,
Google something, anime,
9/11, 7th Heaven,
Wikipedia.
Iraq invasion, Harry Potter,
Kelly Clarkson, seas are hotter,
Finding Nemo, human genome,
Poor Columbia.

Tiger Woods, Myspace,
Saddam Hussein’s hiding place,
Wicked, Darfur, Martian rover,
Lord of the Rings.
FaceBook, Amazon,
Big tsunami, Lost’s on,
Revolution in Ukraine,
Hurricane Katrina stings.

This is the world that made me
Who I am today,
And it’s still underway.
Yes, this is the world that made me;
Through each win and fail, we
All still live it daily.

Benedict and DVD,
Gay marriage, Jay-Z,
Montenegro, talk radio,
Pluto gets axed.
Merkel, Halo, Kurdistan,
Housing crisis, Iron Man,
Banks get bailed out
Like Goldman Sachs.

Bernie Madoff, Dark Knight,
Barack Obama, Twilight,
Great Recession, Avatar,
Michael Phelps, electric car,
Sully, Ahmadinejad,
Federer’s a tennis god,
Swine flu, Twitter’s new,
iPhone topples iPod.

This is the world that made me
Who I am today
And it’s still underway.
Yes, this is the world that made me;
Through each win and fail, we
All still live it daily.

Haiti quake, oil spilled,
Osama bin Laden killed,
Chile miners, Arab Spring,
Fukushima’s worrying,
Tea Party, Occupy,
Uber, Putin, floods high,
Game of Thrones and Instagram,
Sandy Hook and South Sudan.

Bad Benghazi, SpaceX,
Trayvon Martin, Netflix,
U.S. troops are withdrawn,
Bomb at Boston Marathon.
Dubstep, Taylor Swift,
Dreamers, demographic shift,
Eric Garner, Tucson,
Robin Williams too is gone.

This is the world that made me
Who I am today,
And it’s still underway.
Yes, this is the world that made me;
Through each win and fail, we
All still live it daily.

Walking Dead, ISIS,
Seven billion populace,
Ferguson, Hamilton,
Scotland stays with Britain.
Now it’s Generation Z,
Cuba gets an embassy,
“Uptown Funk,” sex slaves,
Africa’s Ebola wave.

Star Wars, Greece kaput,
Kim Jong-un’s a real nut,
Black Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter,
All Lives Matter, now what?

This is the world that made me
Who I am today,
And it’s still underway.
Yes, this is the world that made me;
Through each win and fail, we
All still live it daily.
_____________________

MPAA rating: R (mainly for language)

With this Blindspot series, I find it interesting that I chose Boyhood the same year as last month’s Yi Yi, since they’re rather similar as epics of the mundane, weaving in themes about the nature of life itself with all of its ups and downs and dreams and frailties. Plus, they’re both close to three hours long, so maybe not the best pair for a double feature. Comparing the two, I think Yi Yi has a deeper script, but Boyhood has such an innovative craftsmanship and natural relatability that it edges out its Chinese counterpart in my mind.

Originally to be titled 12 Years, Boyhood has the distinction of having been shot over the course of twelve years, from 2002 to 2013, and the actors literally grow older with their characters. Thus, instead of different actors playing the same character at different ages, we get to see young Ellar Coltrane as Mason Evans, Jr., as he grows up from six years old to graduating high school at eighteen. Likewise, his divorced parents (Patricia Arquette and Ethan Hawke) gain over those years the wrinkles and gray hairs that you know are not merely makeup, and his older sister (Lorelei Linklater, the director’s daughter) grows up alongside him.

 
Now, the obvious accusation of anyone who considers Boyhood overrated is that this technique is a mere gimmick that writer/director Richard Linklater cooked up for Oscar-baiting purposes. And I suppose you could very well see it that way. In a lesser film, I’d consider it just a marketing tool as well, yet it really works to add an extra layer of realism to the film. My mom has a picture frame that holds small photos of me from kindergarten to 12th grade, so that you can see how I aged year by year, and that’s exactly what Boyhood is. It’s not broken up into defined segments—like Age 7, Age 10, Age 13, etc.—instead, we notice the differences gradually, not unlike real life, such as the changes in Mason’s hair length and the moment when you realize his voice is suddenly deeper.

Being just a few years older than Coltrane, I also was able to directly identify with growing up in the same time period he does, and Linklater includes a wealth of little details that indicate the approximate year. Some of them I loved and experienced myself (watching weekday afternoon anime, singing to High School Musical), while others not so much (the Harry Potter craze, political campaigning). It took foresight and up-to-date planning for Linklater to incorporate some of these elements, considering that they were filmed at the time rather than looking back in retrospect. I loved one conversation Mason has with his dad about whether they’ll ever make another Star Wars movie, since it took place in 2008 and The Force Awakens wasn’t released until the year after Boyhood.

 
While these specifics serve to date Boyhood, they only add to its cinematic significance. It’s a literal snapshot of a time and place, just like Saturday Night Fever was for the 1970s, and when future generations wonder what it was like to live in the early 2000s, I suspect Boyhood is where they will go. Even the soundtrack is chosen well to reflect the times, ranging from Coldplay’s “Yellow” to Family of the Year’s “Hero,” along with some selections from Mason’s parents’ era too.

I’ll admit that not everything was relatable for me personally, despite how closely my and Mason’s ages matched. I’m one of those weird people who never did the whole teenager bit of staying out late and drinking underage and smoking pot and exaggerating to friends about sexual conquests, which I guess is a “normal” phase based on how Mason’s mom reacts to some of it. Yet I still saw aspects of my own boyhood in his, like when your parents urge you to finish chores or when you reach that age when adults complain you’re mumbling too much or when, without an active smile, your face looks gloomy and bored by default. Why does that happen anyway? I could also relate to his uncertainty regarding college and the future, since I’ve still got some now and I doubt that’s something anyone fully outgrows.

 
I was concerned at times that Mason seemed too much like a blank slate, a shallow placeholder while life happened around him, from nasty stepdads to unwelcome moves. Yet a personality of his own does emerge as he gets older, including an interest in photography and a growing distrust of “the system.” Despite his unwise moments in high school, there’s a sense of definite maturing, even down to a small later scene where he opts for water rather than beer, and that applies also to his wayward father, who suggests that the responsibility so many lack is simply something you grow into, if only others can be patient enough. Many of the adults in Mason’s life offer sympathetic wisdom and counsel, which he often seems to shrug off as judgmental nagging, but they’re words I feel he’d look back on with better understanding in the future.

I’ve yet to see Birdman, but I find it hard to believe that it was a more deserving Best Picture than Boyhood, which manages to balance its ambitious scope with rare personal insight. It’s quite long yet best seen in one sitting (maybe two), so it’s not a film I’d watch often, but I do think it deserves every bit of its critical praise. Full of simple conversations both awkward and profound, it offers a poignant and down-to-earth picture of growing up, as well as the price paid by parents who are no more sure of their path in life than the children they endeavor to raise; Arquette’s final scene is particularly moving in that regard and likely won her her Best Supporting Actress Oscar. I’m torn on how to rank Boyhood, but it’s a monument of a film that proves how a “gimmick” can be art when done right.

 
Best line: (Nicole, a new friend) “You know how everyone’s always saying ‘seize the moment’? I don’t know, I’m kinda thinking it’s the other way around. You know, like the moment seizes us.” (Mason) “Yeah. Yeah, I know. It’s constant –the moment. It’s just… It’s like it’s always right now, you know?”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2018 S.G. Liput
543 Followers and Counting

2018 Blindspot Pick #2: Yi Yi (2000)

Tags

Drama, Foreign, Romance

What is life
But fate’s plaything,
Where some men die while others cling
To watch new youths discover truths
They could have learned from listening?

What is life
But joy in wait,
A chance to show the few who hate
That love profound can still surround
If one will only demonstrate?

What is life
But one big slog
Reminding you you’re just a cog
In systems built to cover guilt
And stoke the nearest demagogue?

What is life
But bittersweet
In every breath and each heartbeat,
As memories refuse to freeze,
A former friend in full retreat?

What is life
But grief, concerns,
And happiness all taking turns?
Each person braves their own such waves
Until at last each human learns
What is life.
____________________

MPAA rating: Not Rated (the number of F-words in the subtitles and fleeting nudity might warrant an R, but it’s really more of a PG-13)

Finally, a critically acclaimed “masterpiece” of world cinema that doesn’t require the quotation marks! In my limited forays into international filmmaking, I’ve found that just because critics laud a movie, that doesn’t mean it will actually be any good (for example, The Assassin *shudder*). In addition to celebrating the Chinese New Year with a Chinese movie, I added Yi Yi to my list of Blindspots this year because I was curious to see whether it deserved its renown as “one of the major films of the 21^st century” and “the third most acclaimed film of the 21^st century among critics,” according to Wikipedia. Thankfully, it does, and even if it’s not destined to be among my personal favorites, I am 100% behind its status as one of the all-time greats.

Translated as A One and a Two…, but more literally as One One or One by One, Yi Yi is hard to describe in a way that doesn’t make it sound incredibly dull, since it’s about the everyday life of the Jian family of Taipei and runs for 2 hours and 53 minutes.  Yet, I was surprised at how engaging a three-hour movie about everyday life could be, thanks largely to a deep and insightful script from writer/director Edward Yang and several diverse characters that are relatable on multiple levels.

The Jians include the father NJ (famed director Wu Nien-jen), who must deal with both a high-risk business deal and an unexpected run-in with a former lover; the mother Min-Min (Elaine Jin), who suffers a midlife crisis; their teenage daughter Ting-Ting (Kelly Lee), who enters a love triangle with her best friend; their young son Yang-Yang (Jonathan Chang), who gets bullied at school; and the perpetually unlucky brother-in-law A-Di, who gets caught between two strong-willed women. It’s a film of both broad plot strokes (NJ’s self-doubt and potential affair, A-Di’s money troubles) and more minor vignettes (Yang-Yang’s photography, the birth of A-Di’s son) that nonetheless feel vital in getting to know the large cast.

The grandmother of the family is only briefly active at the beginning, spending most of the film in a coma and serving as an ingenious sounding board for her family, who are told to talk to her in hope of her recovery. Those who sit by her bedside bare their inner doubts more fully than anywhere else, such as Ting-Ting’s guilt over whether she’s to blame for her grandmother’s condition, and NJ even compares it to prayer, not knowing for sure how much the listener is hearing.

Despite its apparent simplicity, Edward Yang’s direction is also worth praising, not only in its composition but in its economy. Scenes are kept wide with very few close-ups. Long extended takes are the rule, with no scene or edit being wasted, yet the camera is fairly static. It doesn’t follow the characters around but allows events to play out off-screen, often letting us see part of what’s happening through reflections in windows and mirrors, which provides both visual interest and a strong sense of place.

Even masterpieces can have room for improvement, though, and Yi Yi is no different. While its mundaneness is part of its charm, the pacing does lag several times, and there are many scenes that could have been trimmed to shave off perhaps a half hour from the runtime. It takes an investment of time and patience to sit through, yet I can say it’s a rewarding experience, even if its full power is only half understood when the credits roll. There are highs and lows, joys and sorrows, laughter and tears, both a marriage and a funeral, history repeating itself and wisdom coming from the mouth of babes. The film is mostly warm and gentle, never judging the characters and their flaws, yet the wisdom of right decisions shines against the foolish passion of mistakes. I don’t know that I’ll make the time to watch it again, but it will still live in my mind as a genuinely great film.

Best line: (Fatty, Ting-Ting’s boyfriend) “Life is a mixture of sad and happy things. Movies are so lifelike; that’s why we love them.”
(Ting Ting) “Then who needs movies? Just stay home and live life!”
(Fatty) “My uncle says ‘we live three times as long since man invented movies.’”
(Ting Ting) “How can that be?”
(Fatty) “It means movies give us twice what we get from daily life. For example, murder—we never killed anyone, but we all know what it’s like to kill. That’s what we get from the movies…. It’s only one example; there are other things. Like he also said, ‘There’s no cloud, no tree that isn’t beautiful, so we should be too.’”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2018 S.G. Liput
537 Followers and Counting

 

2018 Blindspot Pick #1: All Is Lost (2013)

Tags

Disaster, Drama

It isn’t easy to admit
That all my effort was in vain.
I’m not the type to whine and quit,
And seldom do I dare complain.
I gave my all;
I fought the squall;
I beat my chest at each downfall,
Until my lowest point was hit,
My lowest while still staying sane.

Don’t pity me, who did decide
To hold to life long as I could.
Perhaps I’ll fathom, once I’ve died,
That all this effort did no good.
But till my end
By God is penned,
With my own fate I must contend.
All is lost, yet still I tried,
As all beset by struggle should.
____________

MPAA rating: PG-13 (for brief language)

Well, I’m kicking off this year’s Blindspot series a bit late, but what’s a few days’ difference? I was nonetheless eager to see how my Blindspot picks this year would measure up to last year’s, especially since my #1 last year (Shuffle) was the first one I saw. I had high hopes for All Is Lost as well, due to its simple survival narrative that I knew would have echoes of Cast Away. Yet, while those echoes are present and the film overall is well executed, I was rather disappointed in the end product.

All Is Lost is notable for being essentially a one-man show, in which Robert Redford is the sole actor on screen in a straightforward survival tale of man vs. nature. Credited as “Our Man,” Redford barely speaks throughout (though there were a few more words than I was expecting), instead reacting to the various maritime dangers that plague him as a lone sailor, from destructive debris to vicious storms. It’s a credit to Redford’s acting ability that he can hold a movie completely on his own while in his seventies, and his nameless protagonist remains admirably calm through much of his travail, finding clever survival solutions others might not think of while also doing an inexplicable action now and then (like going up on deck in a storm for reasons I didn’t quite grasp).

As an acting showcase for Redford and a no-frills survival story, All is Lost delivers reasonably well, with an understated Golden Globe-winning score and convincing effects and aquatic photography to create the man’s seafaring isolation. But somehow I expected more. My VC pointed out right away that we’re given no details about Our Man, no background or reason to care about him other than that he’s in the plight he is. Again, it’s easy to point to other isolation movies for comparison: In Cast Away or Life of Pi (both favorites of mine), we get to know the main characters before they’re thrown to the elements, strengthening our sympathy because we see what they’ve lost and what brought them to their predicament. Even with an oddly vague opening voiceover, we know literally nothing about “Our Man” except his immediate circumstances; that was likely the successful intent, but it doesn’t keep me as invested as those other films.

Plus, there’s the simple fact that the film was rather boring. I probably shouldn’t have tried to watch it after a long day at work, but I stuck with it still. My Redford-loving VC, on the other hand, gave up after a half hour, despite the fact she once thought she’d be happy watching Robert Redford read the phone book. (I guess that would have more dialogue, though.) I’m sure the lack of dialogue is more realistic, but there’s a reason Tom Hanks had a volleyball to talk to in Cast Away. Wilson allowed for greater character engagement, just as Richard Parker the tiger did in Life of Pi, which also benefited from a consistent voiceover narration. They gave us a glimpse into the mindset of the human character, while Our Man’s actions don’t really reveal anything about him, even though his story is propelled by action and reaction alone. Redford evokes his growing desperation and despair, but those emotions only go so far. Without fully engaging with the character, we’re simply watching what any competent person would do in this situation, and that detachment was a bit of a letdown.

I can’t impugn Redford’s acting ability or the production values since All Is Lost does what it means to do expertly. It just wasn’t as involving as other survival stories. And it’s not solely because of the sparse dialogue either, nor the lack of character development alone. The Red Turtle held my attention with literally no dialogue at all, while Dunkirk was absolutely thrilling with hardly any character backgrounds. I guess it’s the combination of its monotonous pace and surface-only protagonist that made it feel wanting compared with more engaging films of its genre. While my VC might disagree, it’s by no means a bad film, just one I can’t see myself spending time on again.

Best line: (part of opening lines) “I’m sorry. I know that means little at this point, but I am. I tried; I think you would all agree that I tried. To be true, to be strong, to be kind, to love, to be right. But I wasn’t. And I know you knew this… in each of your ways. And I am sorry. All is lost here, except for soul and body, that is, what’s left of them, and a half day’s ration.”

 

Rank: Honorable Mention

 

© 2018 S.G. Liput
536 Followers and Counting

 

My 2018 Blindspot Picks

Tags

Lists

I enjoyed the majority of my Blindspot Picks from last year, so I definitely want to continue with this fun monthly series. After pondering what movies I’ve been meaning to see, I’ve picked a fairly diverse collection of goodies (hopefully), a few based on recommendations and others simply sources of curiosity. Some of these I can’t wait to finally watch. I’ve also got a shortlist of other films I could have picked, and I’m hoping I can watch some of those along the way too. Thus, in alphabetical order, here are my Blindspots for 2018. (It’s interesting that the first five start with the first five letters of the alphabet. Not intentional, of course.)

 

 

All is Lost (2013)

 

Boyhood (2014)

 

Clue (1985)

 

 

Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son about His Father (2008)

 

 

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

 

 

Hush (2016)

 

 

Into the Forest of Fireflies’ Light ( or Hotarubi no Mori e) (2011)

 

 

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

 

 

The Sandlot (1993)

 

 

Some Like It Hot (1959)

 

 

Sunshine (2007)

 

Yi Yi (2000)

 

2017 Blindspot Ranking

Tags

Lists

As 2018 starts, it’s about time to decide on my Blindspot picks for the year. After seeing others taking part, I just started following this fun series last year, choosing twelve films that I’d been meaning to see and watching one a month for the year. For the most part, I enjoyed my 2017 picks, three of which made my Top 365 List, but I thought I’d do an official ranking before announcing my 2018 picks later this week. So here’s how the 2017 Blindspots stacked up, ranked worst to best, along with some nice short comments on each (since you can just read the review if you’re really curious).

 

12. Blade Runner

Great visuals, largely boring narrative

 

11. An American in Paris

Amazing dance numbers (a tad overlong though), paper thin plot

 

10. Imitation of Life

Important film dealing with race, some subplot weaknesses

 

9. Darby O’Gill and the Little People

Underrated and charming Disney classic, wish I’d seen it as a kid

 

8. In Your Eyes

Unique and slightly weird romance that mostly works

 

7. Donnie Darko

Still trying to process this dark sci-fi tale, strong performances and soundtrack

 

6. Giovanni’s Island

Tragic anime drama clearly echoing Grave of the Fireflies, touching ending

 

5. The Help

Fantastic acting from all involved, won’t look at chocolate pie the same way

 

4. Hear Me

Really charming Taiwanese rom com mostly in sign language (made the List mainly for being paired with A Silent Voice)

 

3. Cinema Paradiso

Moving Italian classic that appeals to one’s love of film

 

2. Saving Private Ryan

Gruesome but hard-hitting war drama, not a casual watch but indeed one of the greatest war movies ever

 

1. Shuffle

Lean and fascinating time travel story, worthy of much greater recognition

 

 

2017 Blindspot Pick #12: Cinema Paradiso (1988)

Tags

Drama, Romance

The world might keep more hope and zeal,
Might waver closer to ideal,
Might capture greater curb appeal
If life were like the movies.

Our friends might longer stay our friends,
Our enemies might make amends,
Our chances rise for happy ends
If life were like the movies.

But no, they’re not, we’re often told.
Such dreams decay as we grow old.
And yet they never lose their hold;
That’s why we watch the movies.
_____________________

MPAA rating: PG (should perhaps be PG-13, though the director’s cut is R)

It’s time now for my final Blindspot of the year, the Italian classic Cinema Paradiso (or to use the Italian title, Nuovo Cinema Paradiso). I’ve been curious about this film for a while since it seems that everyone who sees it loves it to pieces, not least of all Cinema Parrot Disco, who named her blog after it. Of the three different versions that are apparently floating around, I watched the original international release of 123 minutes, as opposed to the 155-minute Italian release or the 173-minute director’s cut. Even apart from the long list of accolades that were listed prior to the film’s actual start, I undoubtedly recognize why it is hailed as such a classic, but it also left me a tad perplexed simply because I wanted to absolutely love it but instead just really, really, really liked it. That is to say, it didn’t quite bridge the tiny gap between fondness and favorite, but fondness isn’t too shabby.

Told mostly in flashback, Cinema Paradiso is at its heart a coming-of-age tale about a young boy named Salvatore (Salvatore Cascio), who is enamored of his post-war Italian village’s local theater, the Nuovo Cinema Paradiso, and constantly pesters the big-hearted projectionist Alfredo (Philippe Noiret). Their bond is the sweetest aspect of the whole story. Despite Alfredo’s tendency to make hyperbolic threats while waving his hands around as Italians do, his affection for young “Toto” is unmistakable, from teaching him how to operate the projector to encouraging him to seek out bigger things than their rural village.

The town at large is also full of colorful characters, from the rich man who spits on the poorer folks from the theater balcony to the crazy tramp who claims the entire town square as his own. It’s a community of mischievous lads, indignant priests, and avid movie lovers, perhaps idealized by Salvatore’s nostalgia, but still feeling dynamic and genuine. It’s also a look at an era long past. While many today scorn the old black-and-white films of yesteryear, Cinema Paradiso shows a time when they thrilled the whole neighborhood, where theaters erupted with laughter and chair-stealing mobs would form if they were denied their latest favorite. Film itself is a prominent character here, a reminder of how magical it once was, how dangerous it could be, and how beloved it still is.

Deserving Winner of the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, Cinema Paradiso is full of moments designed to make you smile and even tear up by the end, and it presents them with good humor and romantic sweetness that never loses its honesty. With such strong performances, appealing sentimentality, and sincere love of film, it’s hard to pin down why it didn’t quite affect me the way I was hoping. I can’t really point to anything specific, aside from perhaps its length or the less-than-satisfying romance aspect, but I also feel that my appreciation will only grow if I see it again. It’s easily a five-star movie and an affecting tribute to the magic of film.

Best line:  (Alfredo, to Salvatore) “Get out of here! Go back to Rome. You’re young, and the world is yours. I’m old. I don’t want to hear you talk anymore. I want to hear others talking about you…. Whatever you end up doing, love it. The way you loved the projection booth when you were a little squirt.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
523 Followers and Counting

 

2017 Blindspot Pick #11: Giovanni’s Island (2014)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, History

‘Tis futile to wish our lives never to change,
To stay in the bliss of a child’s outlook.
We’re always disturbed by the new and the strange,
Priorities puzzled as they rearrange,
Things hardly confined to the page of a book.

The friends that we make and the loved ones we lose
Accompany us just as far as they can.
And when we have finally paid all our dues
And traveled the path that each person must choose,
Perhaps we will see ‘twas all part of a plan.
____________________

MPAA rating: Not Rated (probably PG)

Boy, just like with Donnie Darko, finding a copy of this film for my Blindspot was harder than I thought, hence why I’m a day late for this November pick. I’m always on the lookout for emotional anime films, and Giovanni’s Island promised to have something of the tragic quality of Grave of the Fireflies, which still makes me cry every time I see it. Giovanni’s Island undoubtedly borrows from the 1988 film and actually reminded me of several others as well, from the Russian exile of Doctor Zhivago to the childish friendship disrupted by war of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. It also draws explicit inspiration from the Japanese novel Night on the Galactic Railroad, which is apparently a great classic in Japan, though it’s not surprising if most are unfamiliar with it. Some knowledge of that story might help one’s understanding of certain scenes in the movie. (It does have an anime adaptation too, which is dream-like, very slow, full of symbolism and Christian references, and might have vaguely influenced The Polar Express.)

The first parallel to Night on the Galactic Railroad is the names of the two brothers who live in a small fishing village in the far northern Japanese islands toward the close of World War II. Junpei (nicknamed Giovanni) and Kanta (nicknamed Campanella) draw their Italian-sounding names from the main characters of the book, a favorite in their family, which ignites their fascination with both the stars and trains. While the villagers expect the Americans to take control after the war is lost, it’s instead the Soviets, who waste no time in establishing themselves and commandeering the Japanese homes and school building. Despite being driven from their house, young Giovanni and Campanella befriend a Russian girl named Tanya, but the conflict and stresses of the adults around them soon strain their relationship and send the brothers away from their beloved island into the unknown.

Despite being produced by Production I.G., the same studio behind Ghost in the Shell, the animation in Giovanni’s Island is different from their other works. The sketched environments and setting details are masterful, and one scene of a front-lit toy locomotive passing between two rooms showed an amazing attention to light and shadow. The character animation, on the other hand, wasn’t bad, but I found it somewhat distracting at times. Despite all anime sharing similarities of style, character design can vary significantly, and it’s a distinction that can be very subjective with its appeal. It’s not as if it was ugly (like One Piece, in my opinion), but the look of the characters sometimes brought me out of the story, though I did get used to it with time.

There’s a lot to enjoy about Giovanni’s Island, particularly scenes designed to tug at the heartstrings. In an early scene, the school building is divided between the Russian and Japanese children, and each classroom sings their own national songs to try to drown the other out, while each room later sings the other’s song. Similarly, Giovanni becomes quite close to Tanya, and though the language barrier is barely addressed, it was encouraging to remember that children’s interactions are so much simpler than adults harboring resentment and hate. Another touchstone seemed to be Empire of the Sun, as the two siblings are soon separated from their father and cast into the harsh post-war realities of internment camps, all seen through the eyes of a child. The parallels to Grave of the Fireflies are blatant toward the tearful end, though there are differences, such as the fact that Giovanni and Campanella are never completely abandoned, at least accompanied by their teacher and uncle most of the way. Despite the similarities, it’s not a complete ripoff since the familiarly tragic end also draws from Night on the Galactic Railroad, along with several wondrous dream sequences that recreate scenes from the book.

Giovanni’s Island has plenty of moving drama, some of it probably seen before, but it presents it with warmth and sincerity, as well as grief. It didn’t make me cry like Grave of the Fireflies, but the final scene brought me close. I’m just a sucker for those kinds of poignant death-transcending reunion scenes, so it ended on a high note for me. I also enjoyed a repeated musical cue I recognized as “Those Were the Days,” a Mary Hopkins hit from the ‘60s, which recycled the tune of a traditional Russian folk song, making its use in the film more authentic. A somber tale of loss and survival that never becomes objectionable, Giovanni’s Island may combine elements from better films, but they’re combined beautifully nonetheless.

Also, you can click here for a somewhat less rosy review from Rachel of Reviewing All 56 Disney Animated Films and More!, who also had this as her November Blindspot.

Best line:  (Giovanni, when asked what Night on the Galactic Railroad is about) “When people die, they rise up into the heavens and become stars in the night sky. Those countless stars fill the sky, shining brightly and eternally, and we live our lives down here, basking in their light. That’s what the story is about.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
517 Followers and Counting

 

2017 Blindspot Pick #10: Donnie Darko (2001)

Tags

Drama, Mystery, Sci-fi, Thriller

I’m crazy, they say,
Since I see things that they
Cannot see, know, or even believe.
I’m crazy, although
I know which domino
Will destroy all that we now perceive.

I’m crazy, of course,
There’s no spirit or force
That could show me the things I have seen.
I’m crazy, perhaps,
But when things do collapse,
Maybe then they’ll all know what I mean.
_________________

MPAA rating: R (for language throughout and brief violence)

Well, it’s about time I got to see this movie. Considering its cult popularity, I’m surprised how hard it was to find a copy through my usual sources, a search that delayed this review as my intended October Blindspot. So now that I’ve watched Donnie Darko, what do I think of it? I’m honestly not sure! I can’t pin down exactly how I feel about this independent favorite. Not since Cloud Atlas has a film left me so befuddled, but at least that movie impressed me enough to know I liked it.

Along with October Sky, Donnie Darko helped establish Jake Gyllenhaal as a rising star of the early 2000s, and they certainly proved his range.  While his Homer Hickam in October Sky was all starry-eyed inspiration, Donnie Darko is a rebellious and mentally troubled teen who is told the world will end by a man in a demonic bunny costume. You can’t get much more different than that! Although I much prefer October Sky, Donnie Darko is consistently, um…I guess the word is interesting. I found myself engrossed in what would happen next simply because I wanted to know what the heck was going on with this teenage malcontent and his delusions of a bunny man named Frank.

There are a lot of disparate elements and compelling side characters in Donnie Darko, and I’m not convinced they all come together as they should. There’s Donnie’s budding romance with the new girl in class (Jena Malone). There’s a local motivational speaker (Patrick Swayze) whose positivity methods are derided. There’s a committed English teacher (Drew Barrymore) whose literature choices are denounced by the self-righteous gym teacher (Beth Grant). There are a bullied oriental girl who Donnie sympathizes with and a senile old woman (Patience Cleveland) who keeps checking her mailbox and once wrote a book on time travel. And in the midst of all this is Donnie, antisocial, prone to cynical outbursts, and a regular with his hypnotherapist (Katharine Ross). A special mention too for Jake’s sister Maggie Gyllenhaal as his sister in the movie as well. It may seem like I just listed all the characters for no reason, but that’s kind of how I felt watching the movie, as if each of these characters only mattered when they interacted with Donnie and didn’t go anywhere without him.

Surrounded by a general sense of gloom, Donnie’s visions are intriguing as we wonder whether they’re real or just a product of paranoid schizophrenia, and there are plenty of memorable scenes, whether from Donnie’s sardonic barbs, the dreamy moments of destruction, or the well-utilized soundtrack with songs from Tears for Fears, Duran Duran, and Echo and the Bunnymen. (Get it, Bunnymen? It is set in 1988, after all.) I had a vague idea of how it would end, but I’ll admit that one scene totally shocked me and the final scenes were unexpectedly poignant, even as I wasn’t sure how much I really understood.

Donnie Darko is a lot of things at once: an angsty teen drama, a sci-fi thriller version of Harvey with psychological underpinnings and brilliant foreshadowing, a critique on holier-than-thou hypocrites, a black comedy with some weirdly funny dialogue. That bizarre Smurf conversation could only come from an independent movie. As I came to terms with my belief that the plot only makes sense if it’s all a delusional premonition in Donnie’s head, I did some research and found that there’s a much more complicated backstory with tangent universes and manipulated dead that isn’t really touched on in the film (at least the theatrical version I saw) but offers plenty of food for thought in trying to justify this overly complicated version of events. I guess it all comes down to the fact that what ends up happening had to happen, but I think the real “why” to this convoluted tale is only really known to writer-director Richard Kelly.

I’m not decided on how much I actually liked Donnie Darko, but it certainly got me thinking, which is always welcome. I can see why it earned a cult following, at least among those who enjoy the effort of trying for it all to make sense.

Best line (or at least the one I got a kick out of): (Emily, to her sister Susie) “Beth’s mom said the boys’ locker room was flooded and they found feces everywhere.”   (Susie) “What are feces?”   (Emily) “Baby mice.”   (Susie) “Aww.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up?

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
517 Followers and Counting