The Red Turtle (2016)

Tags

Animation, Drama, Fantasy, Foreign, Romance

Shall I sit here all alone
And wait for death to call me home?
Now that I am stranded here,
Have worth and meaning flown?

Shall I push uphill my stone
And watch it roll back down and groan
And wish that life had chanced to veer
Somewhere less sorrow-prone?

Perhaps I’ll work myself to bone
And die unloved and thus unknown,
But if somebody could appear
And comfort give to persevere,
I’d gladly bear my daily stone
With one to call my own.
_________________

MPAA rating: PG

This review is my contribution to the Colours Blogathon hosted by Catherine of Thoughts All Sorts, focusing on all manner of movies with colorful titles. I chose The Red Turtle not only for the color in its name, but because I was curious about this feature-length silent film that earned an Oscar nomination for Best Animated Feature when Your Name didn’t. Now that I’ve seen it, I completely agree that it deserved such an honor because this story of a shipwrecked man stranded on an island is a piece of cinematic art. So many cartoons these days rely on hyperactive humor that something like The Red Turtle is an anomalous reminder that animation can offer compelling stories without jokes or even words through simple mastery of the medium, allowing silence to make it universal.

The beautifully simple animation is the product of a collaboration between Dutch director Michaël Dudok de Wit, winner of the 2001 Animated Short Film Oscar for the lovely Father and Daughter, and the not-yet-defunct Studio Ghibli. I’m still surprised at Ghibli’s involvement because The Red Turtle has no resemblance to anime, except maybe in the attention to natural detail, yet I’m reminded that anime is not limited by the usual big-eyed style. The Oscar-winning short film La Maison en Petits Cubes has a European aesthetic similar to The Red Turtle, but, despite the French name, it was a Japanese production. So you could say that The Red Turtle is a best of both worlds, combining the visual imaginations of its animators in a surprisingly accessible, almost watercolor style.

Silent animation is usually the realm of short films, and it must have been a risk to protract what could have been vastly shortened to a feature-length story. Those with short attention spans will likely be bored by the third raft-making attempt, but the patient should find the narrative rewarding in its ambiguity. As with Cast Away, actions speak louder than words, and the painterly animation is so superb in its simplicity that I was rarely bored. It’s all in the details, like the humorous characterization of the crabs watching the man’s efforts or the lush island greenery swaying in the breeze, and the realistic water is worth particular praise, whether serene on the horizon or violent in its outbursts.

I don’t want to say much about the actual plot since it’s best experienced with the intended visuals to tell the story, but it very much fits its description as a fable, a seemingly straightforward tale that can be appreciated on its surface or on a deeper, more symbolic level. The Red Turtle itself remains something of an enigma, even as it becomes a profoundly important part of the castaway’s life, infusing the film and its ending with a bittersweet emotion that is strongly felt, if not fully understood.

So, yes, The Red Turtle is absolutely Oscar-worthy and, if not for last year’s hefty competition, might well have won. Why couldn’t a film like this come out in 2006 or 2011, when Disney/Pixar wasn’t a shoo-in? I suppose I can now turn my blame on My Life as a Zucchini (the only nominee I haven’t yet seen) for Your Name’s lack of nomination last year because The Red Turtle is more than deserving. Despite its slow narrative that could have been a short film, it’s a piece of modern art that is becoming rarer and rarer in the world of feature-length animation.

Best line:  (the man’s only line) “Heeeeey!”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
506 Followers and Counting

 

It’s a Wonderful Tag!

 

As a Christmastime gift to movie bloggers everywhere, Richard of The Humpo Show began this end-of-year tag, full of questions to answer and then pass along to other bloggers. Since I was so kindly tagged by Drew of Drew’s Movie Reviews, it’s my turn to offer up my yuletide two-cents, which will take the place of my daily review today.

______________________

 

All I Want For Christmas is You | Which DVD/Blu-Ray would you like to receive this year?

Probably Captain America: Civil War, but anything on my top movie list is prime gift fodder.

Jingle Bell Rock | Favorite soundtrack or song from a Christmas film?

Since my favorite Christmas song is “Carol of the Bells,” I have to go with Home Alone. I love how John Williams incorporated it into the score as Kevin sets all his burglar traps.

Let it Snow | 3 of your favorite Christmas films…

I’ll have to go with It’s a Wonderful Life, Home Alone, and A Christmas Story, though The Family Man comes close too.

Donald Trump | A film that divides opinion…

I would have gone with the Star Wars prequels, but I’m picking a film I just saw that left critics, audiences, and even my own sentiments polarized: Cloud Atlas. It’s strange, complicated, sometimes jarringly edited, and stuffed to the brim, but it’s also huge, moving, gorgeously scored, and thematically beautiful.

Brexit | Favorite British Film…

I’m not sure if the 2012 version of Les Miserables counts since it was “British-American” according to Wikipedia, so for pure British, I’ll pick 1968’s Oliver! Both musicals, hmm….

Fidel Castro | A film that divides opinion… A film considered culturally significant

Sure, I could go with an artistic classic, like Citizen Kane or Gone with the Wind, but I’m opting for Jurassic Park, since it was not only a great blockbuster but the stepping stone between puppetry and CGI effects. Didn’t Swiss Army Man prove Jurassic Park’s significance this past year?

Starbucks | Favorite Film Franchise…

Easy, Lord of the Rings, without a doubt.

McDonald’s Happy Meal | Favorite Childhood Film…

One of the first films I remember seeing in the theater was Disney’s Tarzan, and I also recall watching it on VHS with my cousin, especially replaying the “Trashing the Camp” part over and over and over. Ah, memories….

‘Cheeky Nandos’ | Favorite Comedy

Groundhog Day. Talk about watching something over and over and over.

One film you want all of your followers to watch…

The Lord of the Rings trilogy, but if 9 hours of epic fantasy is too much for some people, then Mr. Holland’s Opus. Makes me choke up every time.

_________________________

 

Here’s a template list of the questions:

All I Want For Christmas is You | Which DVD/Blu-Ray would you like to receive this year?

Jingle Bell Rock | Favorite soundtrack or song from a Christmas film?

Let it Snow | 3 of your favorite Christmas films…

Donald Trump | A film that divides opinion…

Brexit | Favorite British Film…

Fidel Castro | A film that divides opinion… A film considered culturally significant

Starbucks | Favorite Film Franchise…

McDonald’s Happy Meal | Favorite Childhood Film…

‘Cheeky Nandos’ | Favorite Comedy

One film you want all of your followers to watch…

_________________________

 

Thanks again to Richard for starting the tag and to Drew for tagging me. Now who should I tag?

Cinema Parrot Disco

MIB – MIB’s Instant Headache

Rachel – Reviewing All 56 Disney Animated Films and More

Kim – Tranquil Dreams

Dell – Dell on Movies

A Fistful of Films

Cindy Bruchman

Luke – Oracle of Film

Moody Moppet

Jason – Jason’s Movie Blog

 

I look forward to reading the answers of anyone I’ve tagged, or anyone who just feels like answering the same questions. A Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone in blog-land!

 

Star Trek: Voyager Musical Highlights

Tags

Lists

This post is part of the Music of Star Trek Blogathon hosted by Film Music Central so check out the amazing music posts that others have already contributed. When I first heard about the blogathon, I wasn’t sure that there was much I could add to the discussion, since most people seemed to be focusing on the original Star Trek series, The Next Generation, and their movies. However, I decided to shine a spotlight on the musical moments in my favorite series in the franchise: Voyager.

For those who don’t know, Voyager is Star Trek‘s incarnation of the Odyssey. Two crews are hurled into the unexplored Delta Quadrant, 70,000 light-years from home: the Federation starship Voyager led by Captain Kathryn Janeway (Kate Mulgrew) and a Maquis ship of rebel freedom fighters, led by Chakotay (Robert Beltran). After their initial encounters with the native aliens leave them stranded, the two crews band together to make the long journey home. Like Next Gen, the somewhat stiff early episodes yield to better and better seasons, and it’s truly gratifying to see all the characters grow into a family. Many episodes rival the very best that Star Trek has to offer, but we’re not here to discuss every little thing I love about this series; let’s talk about the music.

One of the most obvious musical achievements is the opening theme song. While Next Gen recycled Jerry Goldsmith’s incredible score from Star Trek: The Motion Picture for its opening theme, Goldsmith provided an original theme for Voyager, which won an Emmy for Outstanding Individual Achievement in Main Title Theme Music. The soft trumpet and drums immediately set a mood of spacey grandeur, and the brass and strings mingle together as the essence of audible majesty, complemented by lofty shots of the title ship swooping through stellar phenomena. Between the music and the visuals, I firmly consider it the best opening of all the Trek series.

So, that’s the theme. What about the music in the series itself? All of it is excellent, but the most memorable new theme was introduced in the season 3 finale Scorpion, which was a turning point in the series and could be considered Voyager‘s “Best of Both Worlds.” The Voyager crew find themselves in the middle of the Borg’s losing war against an unbeatable super-race known as Species 8472. The music by Jay Chattaway is loaded with bombast, reminding the ear of the high stakes, and the seven forceful notes mix with the background music for a terrific small-screen action piece. You can hear it for yourselves here.

In addition to the instrumental scores, music played a special role in several episodes, particularly for the holographic Doctor (Robert Picardo), who developed a passion for opera. In addition, both Jeri Ryan as Seven of Nine and Tim Russ as Tuvok showed their singing chops on occasion, and Garrett Wang as Ensign Harry Kim periodically played the clarinet. Here are some of the most notable musical highlights:

• In the season 2 episode “The Thaw,” Harry Kim and Tom Paris debate where Harry should practice his clarinet without disturbing his neighbor.
• In the season 2 episode “Innocence,” Tuvok is stranded on a moon with three alien children and soothes them to sleep with a Vulcan “lullaby” of sorts called Falor’s Journey.

• In the season 3 episode “Remember,” Janeway is telepathically taught to play an ethereal-sounding new instrument.
• In the season 4 two-parter “The Killing Game,” a hunter race called the Hirogen brainwash the Voyager crew and make them take part in historical holographic violence. One holodeck is set in Nazi-occupied France, and Seven of Nine is a crooning serenader in a French bar.
• In the season 5 premiere “Night,” Voyager travels through a vast area of starless space, and in his boredom, Harry performs his own concerto called “Echoes of the Void” while on the bridge.

• In the season 5 episode “Counterpoint,” a paranoid, anti-telepath race repeatedly boards and searches Voyager, and its charismatic inspector flirts with Captain Janeway while blaring Mahler’s First Symphony during every inspection.
• In the season 5 episode “Bride of Chaotica!,” the show indulges in the classic cheesiness of the old Flash-Gordon-style science fiction and the exaggerated score reflects the over-the-top histrionics.
• In the season 5 episode “Someone to Watch over Me,” the Doctor tries to teach Seven of Nine social skills and seems to realize his attraction to her while they sing “You Are My Sunshine” together. During the poignant final scene, the Doctor also sings “Someone to Watch over Me,” alone.

• In the season 6 premiere “Equinox Part II,” a reprogrammed evil Doctor performs surgery on Seven of Nine, sadistically making her sing “My Darling Clementine” with him.
• In the season 6 episode “Barge of the Dead” (probably the worst episode of the series), we get to hear a traditional Klingon drinking song.
• In the season 6 episode “Riddles,” Tuvok becomes mentally damaged, and Neelix plays him a Vulcan funeral dirge, as well as jazz, which Tuvok surprisingly enjoys.
• In the season 6 episodes “Fair Haven” and “Spirit Folk,” the crew enjoy a holodeck program of a quaint Irish village, with accompanying Celtic background music.
• In the season 6 episode “Virtuoso,” the Doctor becomes a celebrity when he introduces music to a race that has never heard it before. Lots of opera in this one.
• In the season 7 episode “Homestead,” Neelix dances to some classic rock ‘n’ roll, and eventually Tuvok indulges him with a parting dance step.
• The series finale “Endgame” also won Jay Chattaway an Emmy for Outstanding Music Composition For A Series. Here‘s a taste of the underscore from both the pilot and the final episode.

 

There you have it. Star Trek: Voyager excelled at utilizing music both in the score and the storylines, continuing the musical legacy of The Original Series and Next Gen. I leave you now with the funniest musical moment from the series in which the Doctor’s operatic daydreams take a comical turn in Season 6’s “Tinker, Tenor, Doctor, Spy.”

For Greater Glory (Cristiada) (2012)

Tags

Drama, History, War

If your freedoms were taken, your rights undermined,
To worship, to write, or to speak your own mind?

Would you flee?
Would you fight?
Would you stay out of sight?
Would you trigger a war?
Would you pray less or more?
Would you just play along,
With no thought to the wrong,
And in fear knowing well
That one word could bring hell?

Would you plot and resist?
Would you cease and desist?
Would your final resort
Be but silent support?
Would you bear the blood spilt
And accept your own guilt?
Would you think yourself smarter
As traitor or martyr?

Now ask what must happen, what action or vision,
To weigh on your conscience and change your decision?
___________________

MPAA rating: R (for scenes of war and torture, could be PG-13)

This is my contribution to the Remembering James Horner Blogathon over at Film Music Central, where the music of the late great film composer is being celebrated. I’d wanted to see For Greater Glory for years now, and this gave me the perfect opportunity, while illustrating how Horner was equally at home scoring small-budget historical dramas as well as multi-million-dollar blockbusters.

I’ve been waiting for that moment when Christian filmmaking manages to keep up with Hollywood, because despite the inspirational appeal of movies like Fireproof and Miracles from Heaven, Christian films always tend to lack the polish of their secular counterparts. Thankfully, For Greater Glory has that polish, boasting cinematography, editing, and a name-recognized cast worthy of Hollywood while telling a story at once faithful, gritty, and timely.

Most people have probably never heard of the Cristero War, a Mexican revolt from 1926 to 1929 caused by the viciously anti-Catholic policies of President Plutarco Elías Calles (played by Rubén Blades). Because of the history of devout Catholicism that seems synonymous with Latin America, it came as a surprise to me that anti-religious positions were written into the Mexican constitution, and when Calles began enforcing them by deporting foreign priests and killing priests and parishioners alike, the people rose up against him with the battle cry of “Viva Christo Rey!” It’s a struggle largely forgotten but comprehensively recounted through the experiences of various freedom fighters: famed general Enrique Gorostieta (Andy Garcia), lone wolf Victoriano Ramirez (Oscar Isaac), priest-turned-general Father Vega (Santiago Cabrera), peace-seeking lawyer Anacleto Flores (Eduardo Verástegui), and pious youngster José Sánchez del Río (Mauricio Kuri).

The entire cast deliver excellent performances, from Garcia’s conflicted attitude toward defending a religion he doesn’t share to a brief but impactful role for Peter O’Toole. Garcia as General Gorostieta is the most intriguing, an atheist like Calles who nonetheless staunchly believes in religious freedom; his calls of “Viva Christo Rey” encourage the troops as they become perhaps more heartfelt, reminding me that impartial atheists can do wonders with spiritual material. (For example, Amazing Grace was directed by Michael Apted.) The sporadic action is also tense and visceral (though more worth a PG-13 than an R), with ambushes, battles, and an especially cool one-against-fourteen shoot-out with Oscar Isaac. As for Horner’s score, it’s not among his most memorable soundtracks but one which masterfully complements every scene, rousing during the war scenes and suitably intense in the most emotional moments.

 

Despite the epic scope that the film mostly achieves, it’s rather slow-paced overall, and one might have trouble telling the various characters apart at first. What makes For Greater Glory worthwhile, though, is its commitment to telling a story that has been swept under the rug of history, an injustice explained by the fact that history is told by the winning side. As the film progresses, it becomes clear that this is more tragedy than triumph, and sacrifices toward the end bring to mind death scenes in The Passion of the Christ and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Even if none of the characters are deeply explored, the historical notes before the end credits give them the depth of reality as we learn that many have since been beatified or canonized as saints.

With ever-growing distress over religious freedom in America and throughout the world, it’s important to see where religious intolerance can lead. Again, it’s hard to imagine that, in the country of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Christians were hanged from telephone poles less than a century ago, like crosses along the ancient Appian Way. Some have considered the film to be one-sided in its blessing of the rebels who committed some glossed-over atrocities of their own, but the heroics and devotion on display are still worthy of admiration, remembrance, and prayers that such abuses may never happen again.

Best line: (Calles, speaking of Gorostieta) “Filio Diaz used to say, ‘A dog with a bone in his mouth doesn’t bark and doesn’t bite.’ In politics, everything has a price. Go find his.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput
389 Followers and Counting

 

Rashomon (1950)

Tags

Drama, Foreign

 

While weather is windy and bitterly pouring,
Four stories are told when the truth needs exploring,
Four different accounts with the witnesses warring,
But no outright answer for askers imploring.
While some simply welcome whatever’s not boring,
The doubt is too heavy for easy ignoring.
Both lies and the truth can leave consciences roaring,
But everyone’s faith is in need of restoring.
_________________

MPAA rating: Not Rated (should be PG for mature themes)

 

This is a last-minute contribution to the Criterion Blogathon, hosted by Criterion Blues, Speakeasy, and Silver Screenings, in order to honor the old and new film classics selected by the Criterion Collection. After thoroughly admiring Akira Kurosawa’s epic Seven Samurai, I thought I might check out his earlier work, in this case Rashomon, the film that sparked pioneering interest in Asian cinema throughout the West. The story of Rashomon is simple yet profound, intimate yet eclectic, an art film with plenty of moral insight and a technique that has inspired everything from Western remakes (The Outrage, Hoodwinked!) to TV episodes (such as Star Trek: The Next Generation’s “A Matter of Perspective”).

Rashomon itself is an abandoned gate between Kyoto and Nara, though its name always sounds to me like a character from Digimon. The rain-drenched frame story allows a woodcutter and a priest to recount a trial they just witnessed to a surly passerby as they all take shelter beneath the decrepit Rashomon gate. The two watched as the infamous bandit Tajōmaru was tried for the murder of a samurai and the rape of his wife, and both are clearly shaken, having had their faith in humanity cast in doubt.

What follows are four stories of the fateful encounter from four different perspectives. All have the same outcome, yet none are the same. The bandit (Toshiro Mifune of Seven Samurai and other Kurosawa projects) boasts about his daring, recounting an admittedly impressive swordfight against the samurai (Masayuki Mori) after having his way with the woman (Machiko Kyō). The woman ignores any mention of a fight and casts herself as a victim of both men. The samurai may be dead, but a possessed medium explains his viewpoint with rather disturbing behavior, casting more blame on the woman than on the bandit. And then there’s the truth. Or is it? While the final tale seems to be the most plausible in spreading the guilt around, there’s still the smack of hypocrisy, and one can’t help but wonder what all four may be leaving out to suit their own point of view. Ambiguity and doubt are prevalent, yet Kurosawa doesn’t try to discount morality in general through his questioning of what really happened. The world may be full of liars, but human kindness can still have its say.

In addition to its morally debatable themes, Rashomon is also noted for its cinematography and tight editing. As commendable as these are, the film does embrace certain excesses in the way it is told. The opening scene, for example, in which the woodcutter wanders through the dense forest foliage before coming upon the crime scene, is meant to build tension and recall the silent film era, but it unfortunately drags, just one scene that stretches the audience’s patience to the edge of boredom. While much of the acting is subtle and faultless, other moments are acutely overacted, such as the crazy outbursts of two of the players and the woman’s incessant sobbing. These criticisms can doubtless be attributed to the acting conventions of the time, since this film is far from the only aged offender in that regard.

Yet despite the shortcomings of individual scenes, Rashomon is still the classic so many critics have hailed, well deserving of its honorary Academy Award five years before the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film was established. Influential in its uncertainty and thought-provoking in its divergent narrative, Rashomon helped to solidify Kurosawa as an esteemed director the world over.

Best line: (the surly peasant, defending yet impugning everyone from liars to storytellers) “I don’t mind a lie if it’s interesting.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2015 S. G. Liput

345 Followers and Counting

 

Almost Famous (2000)

Tags

Comedy, Drama

Rock and roll was on a roll,
Exciting body, heart, and soul.
They played it loud to please the crowd,
Sublimely out of all control.

These kings of cool were glad to rule,
And much too groovy to be cruel.
Their fame would rise amid the highs
And make it wise to play the fool.

Each touring band that spanned the land
Had rabid fans at their command.
The highs and lies were some disguise
From what they did not understand:
The value of what’s close at hand.
_________________

MPAA rating: R (for much language and brief nudity)

This review is a last-minute addition to Rocktober, hosted by Carly Hearts Movies, celebrating the best (or worst) in rock-and-roll cinema. Being a big fan of Cameron Crowe’s Elizabethtown, I thought it was about time to explore one of his earlier films, and Rocktober helped decide which one it would be.

Rock and roll is a hard thing to quantify. Some love any reason to bang their heads and party; some are excessively picky about how they discern good music from populist trash; and some turn their noses up at its very nature of sex and drugs. Almost Famous captures all three viewpoints and so much else that makes rock both diverting and dangerous, all through the eyes of a fifteen-year-old fan based on Crowe himself.

Young William Miller (Patrick Fugit) loves rock music to the dread of his high-strung mother, whose overprotective opinions already drove away his rebellious older sister. Though teased for being the youngest in his grade, he listens and writes and eventually gets noticed, first by Creem Magazine (thanks to music critic Lester Bangs, played by Philip Seymour Hoffman), then by Rolling Stone, and William is whisked into the radical world of the backstage rock scene. His ticket in is the up-and-coming quartet Stillwater, led by Russell Hammond (Billy Crudup) and Jeff Bebe (Jason Lee), whom he accompanies on a cross-country tour.

Though William knows and admires the music, he is still an outsider and a journalist, “the enemy” as the band nicknames him, and he is able to objectively watch the world of rock music unfold before him, much like an uninitiated viewer. In addition to his trusty notepad, he is always “taking notes with his eyes,” as Russell says, observing the inner squabbling among the bandmates, the wild lives they lead while on tour, the frequent drug-induced stupidity, and the inner workings of these “swill merchants,” who talk frankly about the chicks and then wax philosophical about the brain vs. instinct.

Yet for all the talk of the music and the fans being everything, he also experiences firsthand the dark, false side of this world, in which not even William can remain clean. Everyone seems to be pretending they’re something better than they are. Stillwater grows to enjoy William’s tagging along, but they trust that he’ll clean up their messy shenanigans when it comes time to actually write the article about them. An entourage of dedicated fangirls called the Band Aids accompany the band everywhere they go, and despite their focus on sex and drugs rather than the music, they insist they’re not just ordinary groupies. One in particular known as Penny Lane (Oscar nominee Kate Hudson) puts much effort into her enigmatic persona, sure to be the life of the party. While William sees through most of these facades, even he pretends in order to be taken seriously by Rolling Stone. As much as everyone wants to be loved, too often people are used for the sake of “lifestyle maintenance.”

All this may make Almost Famous sound overly heavy, and while its dramatic moments are perceptive, there is just as much appealing comedy, from the eccentricities of William’s backstage acquaintances to the seriocomic emergency that prompts some unexpected honesty. I especially got a kick out of William’s mother (Frances McDormand), whose increasingly worried phone calls to check up on him are priceless.

Cameron Crowe obviously knows the ins and outs of the rock scene, and despite its dark side, he found the right balance of honesty and feel-good drama, along with a classic rock soundtrack that includes five original songs by Crowe, then-wife Nancy Wilson, and Peter Frampton. With his insightful, Oscar-winning screenplay, Crowe brings to life a world of “drunken buffoons” and making something “poetic” out of it. I still prefer Elizabethtown, but Almost Famous is an entertaining inside look at “the industry of cool.”

Best line: (Russell and a hotel clerk, to William) “Your mom kind of freaked me out.”

Rank: List-Worthy

© 2015 S. G. Liput

342 Followers and Counting

The Film Emotion Blogathon

Connor at Conman at the Movies has created a thought-provoking blogathon, one that calls movie fans to think of films that embody the emotions in Pixar’s instant classic Inside Out.

Joy: A film that always puts a smile on your face

Sadness: A film that sends tears streaming down your face

Fear: A film that made you want to cover your face (in fright)

Anger: A film that made you want to punch someone else’s face

Disgust: A film you wouldn’t want to face again (this one’s a bit more open-ended)

After much thought, I’ve come up with five choices that epitomize these emotions in me, so here goes:

JOY: Elizabethtown (2005)

While it’s sometimes more of a dark comedy, Elizabethtown is still a delight for me every time. It starts out with Orlando Bloom having the worst day imaginable (how could any of my bad days compare?), topped off by his being sent to Kentucky to bring home his dead father. If the small-town quirk doesn’t win you over, how about Kirsten Dunst’s Claire, who makes it her mission to raise this suicidal visitor out of his despair and into a new appreciation for life, complete with a fantastic soundtrack. “Freebird” has never made me smile so much.

SADNESS: Grave of the Fireflies (1988)

I cannot imagine a film more depressing, more heart-rending than Grave of the Fireflies…and it’s a cartoon! (Sorry, anime.) The story of two orphaned Japanese children during the last days of World War II is just so tragic, and the feelings of sorrow keep growing throughout until the inevitable, quiet, hopeless, gut-wrenching end. I hardly ever cry anymore, but this film does it every time.

FEAR:  Poltergeist (1982)

I haven’t seen many horror movies so my choice here may seem wussy compared with others, but seriously, this film traumatized me when I saw it as a kid. I can’t stand jump scares, and that clown still rules my greatest moment of cinematic fright. Not to mention that swimming pool full of corpses. *Shiver.*

ANGER: Urban Cowboy (1980)

I’ve already ranted about how much I despise this movie, but this gives me another opportunity. John Travolta and Debra Winger play such pitiful white trash, and Travolta’s character especially is so childish as he insists on proving his alpha-male status even as he flagrantly cheats on his wife to make her jealous. The country music cannot save this maddening “romance,” in which the characters think a mechanical bull ride can heal a marriage more than the words “I’m sorry.” Can you tell I don’t like this film?

DISGUST: The Last Airbender (2010)

While it doesn’t have the gore or raunch that would normally turn me off from a film, M. Night Shyamalan’s film version of Avatar: The Last Airbender is unfathomably, disgustingly bad, the kind of bad that makes you wonder why no one noticed while making it. Wooden acting, stilted dialogue, weak special effects, laughable action scenes—on its own, it may have been just a bad film, but as an adaptation of the beloved Nickelodeon series, it tramples on everything that made that series great. Is there anything so disgusting as a missed opportunity?

Thanks for a fun idea, Connor!