Watching Peter Sellers in Dr. Strangelove made my cheeks hurt because I was smiling so much. I partially felt bad about it because, though this is obviously a satire and thus is meant to be laughed at, I probably shouldn't have been beaming so much when Dr. Strangelove was basically describing the end of the world as we know it. But I really couldn't help it; Peter Sellers is by far one of my favorite performers. (If you're wondering why he's missing from my favorite actors post, it's because I focused on primarily dramatic actors.) This is my third time watching the movie, and I'm happy to say it gets better every time I watch it, due mostly to his performance. The fact that much of his lines were improvised only ups my appreciation for him.
The reason I'm writing this, other than wanting to up my post count, obviously, is because it's recently come to my attention that the vast majority of my friends have no idea who the hell Peter Sellers is.(I won't even broach the topic of David Niven with them, because I'm afraid I'll have an aneyurism.)I'm truly baffled as to how this is possible: not only is he the original Pink Panther, but for the love of god there's a movie NAMED after the man. There isn't a single actor I can think of working today who can even come close to his special combination of versatility, creativity, physical comedy and deadpan wit. It would take at least four modern actors to even come close to matching his talents, in my ever so biased opinion.So it made me very sad to hear that, apparently, not many people our age have seen anything of his. I hope everyone enjoyed his performance(s) as much as I always do.
That's it for now. There's clearly a lot more to this movie than just Peter Sellers, but if we're going to be discussing it tomorrow I don't really want to post an entire essay prematurely.
Oh, also, I'd hate to post another youtube video, but this needs to be seen:
Monday, June 1, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Noir Basics
I've been searching for this video for about a month and I just found it today and figured that, since we were talking about film noir not too long ago, this might be apropos:
I don't care what anyone says, Seth MacFarlane is a comic genius.
I don't care what anyone says, Seth MacFarlane is a comic genius.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Favorite Actors
Ok, so maybe I haven't posted in quite some time. A month to be exact. That's petty lame, but I've been busy with a broken laptop/Wuthering Heights/studying for AP tests/registering for classes/ etc. And the truth is I haven't really watched any new movies that interested me recently.(Dark City does, but I don't like commenting on a movie until I've seen the whole). I've been on more of a theatre kick lately, getting excited for the Tony awards. But in a feeble attempt to keep my grade up, I decided to post a hastily composed blog, purely because I do love movies, and not at all because Mr. Bennett told me to.
Alright, so while I haven't been watching a lot of movies lately. I did read something yesterday that made me think about the cinema. A girl from the original Broadway cast of Hair was asked how she felt about being naked on stage. Wasn't she scared or embarrassed? Her answer was this, which I instantly wrote down because I thought it was very eloquent: "Acting is being private in public." With that in mind, I'm making a list of my favorite actors. I have no idea how many I'm going to write about, I guess however many the time constraints of eighth period will allow. I'm sorry to say I've never been blessed with the ability to make neat lists of five. So here's a yet undetermined number of my favorite actors:
James Dean
My favorite actor of all time. I sat down randomly a couple of years ago and watched all three of his movies, and my life has never been the same. Corny, but true. Like Cordelia, I guess, I can't fully express how much his performances mean to me and why. I'll try to sum it up by saying that he really is, to me at least, the epitome of that quote. When you watch his characters,and yes, they are all anguished and tormented, you feel not as if you're watching a studied performance but a real human being react and feel.His instincts are almost animalistic; you can honestly see him aging and changing on screen, even if he doesn't move a muscle. That's talent. It takes A LOT for me to forget I'm watching a performance,but somehow whenever I watch any of his movies I completely forget I'm watching an actor. It feels more like I'm watching a friend, or some different form of myself. Very difficult to explain.(And, honestly, I never could understand the comparison between him and Brando. I truly feel like they're worlds apart).
Ralph Fiennes
I've heard a few people say that Ralph isn't a very versatile actor and doesn't really pick very different roles. I can almost see where that comes from. While he has played admirable good guys (Maid in Manhattan anyone? No?) it's clear that he excels and enjoys playing sociopaths. His Heatchliff was brilliant, his Harry in In Bruges hilarious and terrifying at the same time, and his Amon Goeth is simple one of the best performances on film. So, ok, maybe he doesn't seem in a hurry to be a James Bond, he prefers the villains. Good. He's the very best actor for that. Rather than sinking into two dimensional antagonists, Ralph's villains are dynamic, often much more interesting than the good guys.He fills his characters with such dimension that they always come so tragically close to true humanity,yet ultimately fail to reach that state of compassion. Brilliant.
Gary Oldman
Most versatile actor ever. Not many people have the requisite talent to be both Beethoven and Sid Vicious in their careers, but he can do that and more. Not only are all of his characters different, but he is utterly unrecognizable in it. True to form with classic British training, he transforms himself to fit a role rather than adapting a role to himself. Truly, he is the definition of a chameleon, and everything a dedicated actor should strive to be. Maybe the reason he's never been nominated for an Oscar(!)is that the Academy just can't recognize that Sirius Black, Dracula,Lee Harvey Oswald, Commissioner Gordon, and the bad guy from Air Force One is all the same actor, rather than a whole handful of people.
Laurence Olivier
Yea, he overacts sometimes. I could care less. I'd prefer overacting to underacting any day KEANU. Something I love about his performances is that while it is clear that he took the time to carefully analyze his character, he injects his performances with a semblance of realism. That's actually quite a feat when you're performing Shakespeare. Truthfully, I think he represents a more classical form of acting that I'm sad doesn't exist anymore. People now become actors to be famous, but one never doubts that Olivier respected his craft.
Jimmy Stewart
First of all, I don't understand how anyone could not want to marry Jimmy Stewart. But that's pretty irrelevant I guess. This list is about acting, and I think Jimmy was the maybe best actor of his generation. I think he's certainly the most iconic. In pretty much all of his movies, but especially his work with Frank Capra, Jimmy represented an American ideal that clearly meant as much to him as it did to his characters. I have a tradition of watching Mr. Smith Goes to Washington every 4th of July, because I can't think of a better movie or better character than Jefferson Smith to represent the best things about America. A character that could, in less expert hands, be cartoonish and flat, became completely dynamic, human, passionate, raw, and real. I read an interview with Donna Reed where she said that Jimmy kept her on her toes because he would get so deeply into his characters he would at times go off script. I think that's very clear, because every single one of his characters is portrayed with care and, most importantly, passion. Like Olivier, I think he represents a more golden age of acting.
Peter O'Toole
I bought Lawrence of Arabia on sale and I did NOT think I would like it, but it actually became one of my favorite movies. For those of you who don't know about this movie, I'll give you a brief little synopsis: 3 hours long. desert. no romance.(well, that last one I guess depends on who you ask but I won't go into that). My point is that it takes an actor of considerable skill to carry a movie like that and to make every single second exciting and enjoyable. Beautiful as O'Toole's blue eyes are, they alone aren't enough to keep you engaged in a movie like this. His talent is. I've seen LOT of his movies now, and I've yet to tire of him. Even when he plays character very similar to himself, he's still one of the best actors I've ever seen. The best example of this is the film Venus, which I would recommend to anyone. Though I think most people would rather compare him to Olivier (all those Brits are alike, right?) he's much more a James Dean to me. Even now, when he's in his late 70s, he still seems as youthful as he did in his very first movies. And just as passionate about acting, even though he's been doing it for years.
OK I'll stop here. This definitely isn't even close to all of my favorite actors, but I've been in the "bathroom" for a good 40 minutes and Mrs. Baldari may wonder where I am.
Alright, so while I haven't been watching a lot of movies lately. I did read something yesterday that made me think about the cinema. A girl from the original Broadway cast of Hair was asked how she felt about being naked on stage. Wasn't she scared or embarrassed? Her answer was this, which I instantly wrote down because I thought it was very eloquent: "Acting is being private in public." With that in mind, I'm making a list of my favorite actors. I have no idea how many I'm going to write about, I guess however many the time constraints of eighth period will allow. I'm sorry to say I've never been blessed with the ability to make neat lists of five. So here's a yet undetermined number of my favorite actors:
James Dean
My favorite actor of all time. I sat down randomly a couple of years ago and watched all three of his movies, and my life has never been the same. Corny, but true. Like Cordelia, I guess, I can't fully express how much his performances mean to me and why. I'll try to sum it up by saying that he really is, to me at least, the epitome of that quote. When you watch his characters,and yes, they are all anguished and tormented, you feel not as if you're watching a studied performance but a real human being react and feel.His instincts are almost animalistic; you can honestly see him aging and changing on screen, even if he doesn't move a muscle. That's talent. It takes A LOT for me to forget I'm watching a performance,but somehow whenever I watch any of his movies I completely forget I'm watching an actor. It feels more like I'm watching a friend, or some different form of myself. Very difficult to explain.(And, honestly, I never could understand the comparison between him and Brando. I truly feel like they're worlds apart).
Ralph Fiennes
I've heard a few people say that Ralph isn't a very versatile actor and doesn't really pick very different roles. I can almost see where that comes from. While he has played admirable good guys (Maid in Manhattan anyone? No?) it's clear that he excels and enjoys playing sociopaths. His Heatchliff was brilliant, his Harry in In Bruges hilarious and terrifying at the same time, and his Amon Goeth is simple one of the best performances on film. So, ok, maybe he doesn't seem in a hurry to be a James Bond, he prefers the villains. Good. He's the very best actor for that. Rather than sinking into two dimensional antagonists, Ralph's villains are dynamic, often much more interesting than the good guys.He fills his characters with such dimension that they always come so tragically close to true humanity,yet ultimately fail to reach that state of compassion. Brilliant.
Gary Oldman
Most versatile actor ever. Not many people have the requisite talent to be both Beethoven and Sid Vicious in their careers, but he can do that and more. Not only are all of his characters different, but he is utterly unrecognizable in it. True to form with classic British training, he transforms himself to fit a role rather than adapting a role to himself. Truly, he is the definition of a chameleon, and everything a dedicated actor should strive to be. Maybe the reason he's never been nominated for an Oscar(!)is that the Academy just can't recognize that Sirius Black, Dracula,Lee Harvey Oswald, Commissioner Gordon, and the bad guy from Air Force One is all the same actor, rather than a whole handful of people.
Laurence Olivier
Yea, he overacts sometimes. I could care less. I'd prefer overacting to underacting any day KEANU. Something I love about his performances is that while it is clear that he took the time to carefully analyze his character, he injects his performances with a semblance of realism. That's actually quite a feat when you're performing Shakespeare. Truthfully, I think he represents a more classical form of acting that I'm sad doesn't exist anymore. People now become actors to be famous, but one never doubts that Olivier respected his craft.
Jimmy Stewart
First of all, I don't understand how anyone could not want to marry Jimmy Stewart. But that's pretty irrelevant I guess. This list is about acting, and I think Jimmy was the maybe best actor of his generation. I think he's certainly the most iconic. In pretty much all of his movies, but especially his work with Frank Capra, Jimmy represented an American ideal that clearly meant as much to him as it did to his characters. I have a tradition of watching Mr. Smith Goes to Washington every 4th of July, because I can't think of a better movie or better character than Jefferson Smith to represent the best things about America. A character that could, in less expert hands, be cartoonish and flat, became completely dynamic, human, passionate, raw, and real. I read an interview with Donna Reed where she said that Jimmy kept her on her toes because he would get so deeply into his characters he would at times go off script. I think that's very clear, because every single one of his characters is portrayed with care and, most importantly, passion. Like Olivier, I think he represents a more golden age of acting.
Peter O'Toole
I bought Lawrence of Arabia on sale and I did NOT think I would like it, but it actually became one of my favorite movies. For those of you who don't know about this movie, I'll give you a brief little synopsis: 3 hours long. desert. no romance.(well, that last one I guess depends on who you ask but I won't go into that). My point is that it takes an actor of considerable skill to carry a movie like that and to make every single second exciting and enjoyable. Beautiful as O'Toole's blue eyes are, they alone aren't enough to keep you engaged in a movie like this. His talent is. I've seen LOT of his movies now, and I've yet to tire of him. Even when he plays character very similar to himself, he's still one of the best actors I've ever seen. The best example of this is the film Venus, which I would recommend to anyone. Though I think most people would rather compare him to Olivier (all those Brits are alike, right?) he's much more a James Dean to me. Even now, when he's in his late 70s, he still seems as youthful as he did in his very first movies. And just as passionate about acting, even though he's been doing it for years.
OK I'll stop here. This definitely isn't even close to all of my favorite actors, but I've been in the "bathroom" for a good 40 minutes and Mrs. Baldari may wonder where I am.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Though I've never seen the Age of Innocence...
In class today, the topic of Martin Scorsese and his movies just happened to pop up. Not that I'm oddly and emotionally attached to directors I like or anything like that, but I love Marty a totally non-weird amount and felt the need to write why I like him and his movies so much. I want to make it clear, though, that I completely respect your opinions about him, Mr. Bennett, and in no way mean to change your mind or anything like that. I just happened to wake up from a nap today and see that picture of a sweet, happy Scorsese winning his Oscar (the last time I actually enjoyed the ceremony) that I put up on my wall years ago and suddenly felt a need to briefly explain some of the reasons why I like him such a TOTALLY non-weird, every day amount...
First off, I'll get his personality out of the way in only a few sentences, so I can then concentrate on his movies, which are much more important. In every interview I've ever seen of him everything he's written that I've ever read, and everything that others have said about him, the man is not only incredibly lovely but a huge lover of cinema. He's sort of like some stereotypical comical nerd with asthma and glasses, but he's said that ever since he was little he's loved movies as a means to both escape and explore. He's clearly obsessed with movies, and I'm unsure exactly what it is but I find something about that immensely endearing. This love of movies has found his way into his work, as his movies constantly have both hidden and obvious allusions to other films. The most recent example of this is in the Departed, where Scorsese put an X somewhere on camera whenever a character dies. This is a direct reference to the Howard Hawks version of Scarface (the good version- there, I said it). It's the little things like this that truly make most of his movies a treasure hunt for cinephiles. (That word is creepy.)
About his camerawork- yes, it is very obvious. It's impossible to watch one of his movies and not take note of a little trick he does here or there. I guess it simply comes down to a matter of personal taste, because this has never bothered me, and in fact I usually like the fact that the camera takes on the role of almost narrator. I can certainly understand why someone would be bothered by maybe a lack of subtlety in the camerawork, but one of the major things I love about most of these movies is the fact that they can appeal to/entertain several different types of audiences. What I mean is, someone with a lower understanding of movies who comes in to watch, say,Goodfellas, can be entertained purely by action, while someone with slightly higher understanding sees the significance of tracking shots or what have you. Others even more perceptive will find more subtle things to take note of - things like brilliant acting, a good screenplay, and those cool little Easter eggs. You can go in as a regular moviegoer or as a film professor or as Akira Kurosawa, you'll find something to analyze.
Finally, I just want to say a few things about the characters. I think you said, Mr. Bennett, that you didn't feel that most of the characters in his movies had any resonance. I guess, again, it depends on personal tastes, but I've found a lot of these characters fascinating. Taxi Driver is a prominent example, because I always think of the movie as primarily a character study of Travis Bickle. Any action that takes place in the movie is completely dependent on the character. The same is true for Raging Bull and even Goodfellas. I've found the way he's handled crime/mafia movies brilliant, as he doesn't seek to glorify or condemn, only explore the psyches of the people involved. At least that's my perception of it, I could be wrong. And his movies that aren't very action oriented, like the King of Comedy, the Avatior, and even Kundun- I've felt that the characters were brilliant. DeNiro's character in the King of Comedy, Rupert Pupkin, is actually one of my favorite all time characters and really affected me a great deal.
To each his (or her) own I guess...
First off, I'll get his personality out of the way in only a few sentences, so I can then concentrate on his movies, which are much more important. In every interview I've ever seen of him everything he's written that I've ever read, and everything that others have said about him, the man is not only incredibly lovely but a huge lover of cinema. He's sort of like some stereotypical comical nerd with asthma and glasses, but he's said that ever since he was little he's loved movies as a means to both escape and explore. He's clearly obsessed with movies, and I'm unsure exactly what it is but I find something about that immensely endearing. This love of movies has found his way into his work, as his movies constantly have both hidden and obvious allusions to other films. The most recent example of this is in the Departed, where Scorsese put an X somewhere on camera whenever a character dies. This is a direct reference to the Howard Hawks version of Scarface (the good version- there, I said it). It's the little things like this that truly make most of his movies a treasure hunt for cinephiles. (That word is creepy.)
About his camerawork- yes, it is very obvious. It's impossible to watch one of his movies and not take note of a little trick he does here or there. I guess it simply comes down to a matter of personal taste, because this has never bothered me, and in fact I usually like the fact that the camera takes on the role of almost narrator. I can certainly understand why someone would be bothered by maybe a lack of subtlety in the camerawork, but one of the major things I love about most of these movies is the fact that they can appeal to/entertain several different types of audiences. What I mean is, someone with a lower understanding of movies who comes in to watch, say,Goodfellas, can be entertained purely by action, while someone with slightly higher understanding sees the significance of tracking shots or what have you. Others even more perceptive will find more subtle things to take note of - things like brilliant acting, a good screenplay, and those cool little Easter eggs. You can go in as a regular moviegoer or as a film professor or as Akira Kurosawa, you'll find something to analyze.
Finally, I just want to say a few things about the characters. I think you said, Mr. Bennett, that you didn't feel that most of the characters in his movies had any resonance. I guess, again, it depends on personal tastes, but I've found a lot of these characters fascinating. Taxi Driver is a prominent example, because I always think of the movie as primarily a character study of Travis Bickle. Any action that takes place in the movie is completely dependent on the character. The same is true for Raging Bull and even Goodfellas. I've found the way he's handled crime/mafia movies brilliant, as he doesn't seek to glorify or condemn, only explore the psyches of the people involved. At least that's my perception of it, I could be wrong. And his movies that aren't very action oriented, like the King of Comedy, the Avatior, and even Kundun- I've felt that the characters were brilliant. DeNiro's character in the King of Comedy, Rupert Pupkin, is actually one of my favorite all time characters and really affected me a great deal.
To each his (or her) own I guess...
Signs & The Seventh Seal
Before I start off this post (my first in quite some time, sorry)I should probably mention that I missed a day of the Seventh Seal due to absence and I (forgive me) fell asleep during part of Signs (due to sleepiness, not lack of entertainment), so anything I say is obviously due to scrutiny based on that alone.
But anyway, this is my second time seeing both movies, and I'm almost disappointed that my opinion hasn't changed for either. I still think The Seventh Seal is brilliant and I still think Signs is simply entertaining but nothing truly spectacular, or even slightly spectacular for that matter. What I saw of Signs, excluding my 20 minute nap, kept me entertained but not fully engaged, and I felt the entire movie was too overdone for my taste. Meanwhile, the Seventh Seal remains one of my favorite movies, and resonated very deeply with me. I don't consider myself a hard-core existentialist, and I do believe there is, if not a God, some sort of "higher power", so it's interesting that I responded more to the existentialist movie. Maybe it was the cinematography...
Really though, I think I realized what made the Seventh Seal work for me and Signs not. I felt that the ending of Signs was far too contrived, convenient and, well, happy. It seems to assure the audience "don't worry, things may seem rough, but everything happens for a reason. God is looking out for you." And this is the message that sends Graham back to religion? I'm not sure I buy that completely. Feel free to disagree of course, I honestly don't want to insult anyone and maybe I've listened to too much George Carlin in my life, but the only thing I could think of in the last minutes of the film was "If God supposedly has this grand, master plan, and all the bad stuff that happen, like wives and mothers being pinned by a truck, is simply part of this plan and has to happen to reach some end result, well then what's the use of praying to begin with? " I feel as though that message of everything happens for a reason and is part of a plan seems almost anti organized religion, and the fact that its used in an opposite way just feels fake to me.
Meanwhile,the Seventh Seal never tries to hide or sugarcoat the fact that bad things happen every day for seemingly no reason. It never sings us a lullaby the way Signs does, and yet conversely, never says conclusively that there is no God. I find this fitting, since we can't know whether there is or isn't a God, so why should a filmmaker pretend to? My favorite scene in the movie both times I've seen it has been the Wild Strawberries scene. While death is clearly imminent in the background of the entire scene (a symbol of death, not the figure), I just get pulled into the, for lack of more eloquent word, loveliness of the entire exchange. The scene feels like a welcome rest from an otherwise extremely heavy movie, but it affected me on a much deeper level. Directly after this scene,Block plays his last match with Death, and if memory serves me correctly I believe he's even smiling. The climax, as we've discussed, happens here, when Mary and Joseph and their non-Jesus baby escape. While Block loses his chess match, as we all must do, he wins on a much deeper level, and this is why: by forming meaningful relationships with other human beings and ultimately affecting the lives of others, his life has not gone to waste. While we can never know the secrets of life and death, we are given the (in my opinion, not necessarily the movies)gift of life, so we must find our own ways to make it meaningful here on Earth. This is a message that I find much more true to life than that of Signs. While the Seventh Seal is clearly a movie about Death, literally and philosophically, we shouldn't forget that it is also, subsequently even, a movie about life.
But anyway, this is my second time seeing both movies, and I'm almost disappointed that my opinion hasn't changed for either. I still think The Seventh Seal is brilliant and I still think Signs is simply entertaining but nothing truly spectacular, or even slightly spectacular for that matter. What I saw of Signs, excluding my 20 minute nap, kept me entertained but not fully engaged, and I felt the entire movie was too overdone for my taste. Meanwhile, the Seventh Seal remains one of my favorite movies, and resonated very deeply with me. I don't consider myself a hard-core existentialist, and I do believe there is, if not a God, some sort of "higher power", so it's interesting that I responded more to the existentialist movie. Maybe it was the cinematography...
Really though, I think I realized what made the Seventh Seal work for me and Signs not. I felt that the ending of Signs was far too contrived, convenient and, well, happy. It seems to assure the audience "don't worry, things may seem rough, but everything happens for a reason. God is looking out for you." And this is the message that sends Graham back to religion? I'm not sure I buy that completely. Feel free to disagree of course, I honestly don't want to insult anyone and maybe I've listened to too much George Carlin in my life, but the only thing I could think of in the last minutes of the film was "If God supposedly has this grand, master plan, and all the bad stuff that happen, like wives and mothers being pinned by a truck, is simply part of this plan and has to happen to reach some end result, well then what's the use of praying to begin with? " I feel as though that message of everything happens for a reason and is part of a plan seems almost anti organized religion, and the fact that its used in an opposite way just feels fake to me.
Meanwhile,the Seventh Seal never tries to hide or sugarcoat the fact that bad things happen every day for seemingly no reason. It never sings us a lullaby the way Signs does, and yet conversely, never says conclusively that there is no God. I find this fitting, since we can't know whether there is or isn't a God, so why should a filmmaker pretend to? My favorite scene in the movie both times I've seen it has been the Wild Strawberries scene. While death is clearly imminent in the background of the entire scene (a symbol of death, not the figure), I just get pulled into the, for lack of more eloquent word, loveliness of the entire exchange. The scene feels like a welcome rest from an otherwise extremely heavy movie, but it affected me on a much deeper level. Directly after this scene,Block plays his last match with Death, and if memory serves me correctly I believe he's even smiling. The climax, as we've discussed, happens here, when Mary and Joseph and their non-Jesus baby escape. While Block loses his chess match, as we all must do, he wins on a much deeper level, and this is why: by forming meaningful relationships with other human beings and ultimately affecting the lives of others, his life has not gone to waste. While we can never know the secrets of life and death, we are given the (in my opinion, not necessarily the movies)gift of life, so we must find our own ways to make it meaningful here on Earth. This is a message that I find much more true to life than that of Signs. While the Seventh Seal is clearly a movie about Death, literally and philosophically, we shouldn't forget that it is also, subsequently even, a movie about life.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Runaway Train
I tend to pride myself on my naïve optimism that deep down all humans are good and well-intentioned and that life is beautiful, so it usually makes me uncomfortable when a movie points out to me just how illogical that notion truly is. Weird, then, that the films I've been attracted to lately are those that offer a pretty bleak view on humanity and life. (Is this what growing up entails? If so, I don't like it.) Anyway, Runaway Train is certainly one of those movies that forces me to see the darker nature of the human experience. The most poignant line, in my opinion, is this one, towards the very end of the movie:
Sara:You're an animal!
Manny: No worse! Human!
This exchange, I think, is so important in that it really sheds a light on the view of humans portrayed so deeply and depressingly in the movie. No character seen in the film can truly be said to show a fully positive picture of what it is to be human: not Sara, the only girl in the movie, not the men in the control room, not Ranken, and certainly not our protagonist. That's not to say that all the characters are just "bad", quite the opposite, but the movie seems to present the idea that human nature, especially in our day and age, is not the prettiest picture in the world.
All in all, the movie made me feel and think more than most standard "action" movies do. It made me wonder whether any of us has a choice in life; whether any of us ever are 100% free. Don't we all live in some type of prison, when we really think about it? Is life in general really just a runaway train? (Yes, I did just write that. I realize how lame that sounds but still...)While the movie didn't really do much to help the happy-go-lucky part of my personality, the ending will certainly stay with me for a long time. I'm sure, if I ever grow up to lead an incredibly disappointing life and begin displaying suicidal tendencies (this hopefully won't happen but I guess you never know), this movie will come back to me again and again. It has a very powerful message.
Now that I've seen the whole thing, I really want to buy it and re-watch it, in one sitting, and analyze all the shots and dialogue and all that nerdy goodness. Sounds fun.
[Also, I've just learned via IMDb trivia that Marlon Brando really liked Runaway Train. Not sure how I feel about that. I loved the movie but I'm so not a fan of Marlon, personality wise.I guess there's a little bit of good taste in everyone.]
Sara:You're an animal!
Manny: No worse! Human!
This exchange, I think, is so important in that it really sheds a light on the view of humans portrayed so deeply and depressingly in the movie. No character seen in the film can truly be said to show a fully positive picture of what it is to be human: not Sara, the only girl in the movie, not the men in the control room, not Ranken, and certainly not our protagonist. That's not to say that all the characters are just "bad", quite the opposite, but the movie seems to present the idea that human nature, especially in our day and age, is not the prettiest picture in the world.
All in all, the movie made me feel and think more than most standard "action" movies do. It made me wonder whether any of us has a choice in life; whether any of us ever are 100% free. Don't we all live in some type of prison, when we really think about it? Is life in general really just a runaway train? (Yes, I did just write that. I realize how lame that sounds but still...)While the movie didn't really do much to help the happy-go-lucky part of my personality, the ending will certainly stay with me for a long time. I'm sure, if I ever grow up to lead an incredibly disappointing life and begin displaying suicidal tendencies (this hopefully won't happen but I guess you never know), this movie will come back to me again and again. It has a very powerful message.
Now that I've seen the whole thing, I really want to buy it and re-watch it, in one sitting, and analyze all the shots and dialogue and all that nerdy goodness. Sounds fun.
[Also, I've just learned via IMDb trivia that Marlon Brando really liked Runaway Train. Not sure how I feel about that. I loved the movie but I'm so not a fan of Marlon, personality wise.I guess there's a little bit of good taste in everyone.]
Monday, March 9, 2009
Some Thoughts on Citizen Kane (because I'd be the worst Welles fan ever if I wrote about Watchmen instead)
I'm usually surprised when I see a movie more than once or twice and still find something new. And this was my fifth (or sixth?) time viewing Citizen Kane, so the fact that I was still completely engaged in the film and managed to see new things in it is a testament to the genius that was Orson Welles. Two things jumped out at me in this viewing that I'm ashamed to admit I hadn't really thought about before:
1)Leland's position as the "dramatic critic" of the paper: It's referred to several times in the movie, but previously I had just dismissed the repetition of what his job was as just a fun idiosyncrasy of the dialogue. Recently, however, I realized that Leland being a dramatic critic is very representative of his character and his role in the film. Throughout the flashbacks, we see Leland go from Kane's closest friend to his most scathing critic, and his memories in the film are characterized by excessive critical commentary. In the flashbacks, Leland seems to predict everything that happens to Kane, from his immense influence to ultimate moral corruption. Though I think it's an over-simplification of the screenplay to refer to one character as simply "always right", I do think that Leland's character serves as the lens through which we are supposed to see Kane, and therefore his position as a dramatic critic is wonderfully fitting.
2)The last image we see of Kane in the mirrors: Have to admit I'm sort of embarrassed I never caught this use of mirrors in the movie. Not only does it contribute to the whole theme, but I'm also a huge fan of the movie the Lady From Shanghai, where Welles uses mirrors again,so I have no idea how I never caught it here. Nevertheless, it's a truly amazing image, and seems to signify that, although we've seen all we will of Kane, we still don't truly know his character, and can never know. All we've seen of him has been told through the memories of other people, and so our image of him has been completely influenced by other people. We've seen several Kanes in the movie: the little boy who attacks Thatcher with a sled, the ambitious young man who takes charge of a newspaper, the arrogant politician. But each of these Kanes is just a fraction of the man as he truly was: just an image of him as reflected by the various people who knew him.
One last thing (this post is actually turning out much longer that I thought it would): From talking to some of my friends who watched this for the first time, I've noticed that a lot of people were disappointed by the ending, because they felt cheated out of a satisfying answer to what Rosebud. Understandable, but it surprised me that when I first saw the movie a few years ago, I felt none of the same feelings. I think it all depends on hoe you view the movie. If you approach at as simply a mystery, trying constantly to figure out what Rosebud is, then yeah, a sled is infinitely disappointing. Thankfully, I didn't approach the movie this way the first time, purely because if its not a life or death matter I tend to not care about a mystery. Instead, the main thing I was trying to find out throughout the movie was any insight on the character of Kane, played so enigmatically by Orson. In that sense, Rosebud is actually very satisfying, as it provides more insight on the character that none of the other characters could actually see. No, it's not a "key" to Kane's psyche, there is no such thing, but it's important to note that rosebud being Kane's last word IS significant- it is the only thing we see Kane saying in real time, rather than in a flashback related by another person. In a way, the significance of rosebud- a sled signifying lost childhood- is that it remains the only contribution to the character study of the movie that Kane himself gives importance to.
(Did that make sense to anyone but me? I'm on three hours of sleep so I doubt that was very coherent. Apologies.)
1)Leland's position as the "dramatic critic" of the paper: It's referred to several times in the movie, but previously I had just dismissed the repetition of what his job was as just a fun idiosyncrasy of the dialogue. Recently, however, I realized that Leland being a dramatic critic is very representative of his character and his role in the film. Throughout the flashbacks, we see Leland go from Kane's closest friend to his most scathing critic, and his memories in the film are characterized by excessive critical commentary. In the flashbacks, Leland seems to predict everything that happens to Kane, from his immense influence to ultimate moral corruption. Though I think it's an over-simplification of the screenplay to refer to one character as simply "always right", I do think that Leland's character serves as the lens through which we are supposed to see Kane, and therefore his position as a dramatic critic is wonderfully fitting.
2)The last image we see of Kane in the mirrors: Have to admit I'm sort of embarrassed I never caught this use of mirrors in the movie. Not only does it contribute to the whole theme, but I'm also a huge fan of the movie the Lady From Shanghai, where Welles uses mirrors again,so I have no idea how I never caught it here. Nevertheless, it's a truly amazing image, and seems to signify that, although we've seen all we will of Kane, we still don't truly know his character, and can never know. All we've seen of him has been told through the memories of other people, and so our image of him has been completely influenced by other people. We've seen several Kanes in the movie: the little boy who attacks Thatcher with a sled, the ambitious young man who takes charge of a newspaper, the arrogant politician. But each of these Kanes is just a fraction of the man as he truly was: just an image of him as reflected by the various people who knew him.
One last thing (this post is actually turning out much longer that I thought it would): From talking to some of my friends who watched this for the first time, I've noticed that a lot of people were disappointed by the ending, because they felt cheated out of a satisfying answer to what Rosebud. Understandable, but it surprised me that when I first saw the movie a few years ago, I felt none of the same feelings. I think it all depends on hoe you view the movie. If you approach at as simply a mystery, trying constantly to figure out what Rosebud is, then yeah, a sled is infinitely disappointing. Thankfully, I didn't approach the movie this way the first time, purely because if its not a life or death matter I tend to not care about a mystery. Instead, the main thing I was trying to find out throughout the movie was any insight on the character of Kane, played so enigmatically by Orson. In that sense, Rosebud is actually very satisfying, as it provides more insight on the character that none of the other characters could actually see. No, it's not a "key" to Kane's psyche, there is no such thing, but it's important to note that rosebud being Kane's last word IS significant- it is the only thing we see Kane saying in real time, rather than in a flashback related by another person. In a way, the significance of rosebud- a sled signifying lost childhood- is that it remains the only contribution to the character study of the movie that Kane himself gives importance to.
(Did that make sense to anyone but me? I'm on three hours of sleep so I doubt that was very coherent. Apologies.)
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