Divine Decadence, Thoughts on Cabaret, Ole Chum

I watched Cabaret (1972), one of my all time favorite films, for the zillionth time yesterday. However this was my first viewing since having read Christopher Isherwood's Berlin Stories upon which the story is partly based. I love Isherwood's writing. Simple elegance. The "I am a camera" objective style.

Of course, Cabaret is only very loosely based on on Isherwood's stories. If you're terribly fussy about films replicating the books or events they're inspired by you'll be hugely disappointed. But cinematically it's nigh on impossible to create a better story. Isherwood's stories are a nice companion piece to appreciating the film even further and well worth reading for their own merits.

I was struck this viewing with the extent to which Cabaret foretells the rise of the Nazis. They start the story as minor players being bullied out of the Kit Kat club and before you know it they're beating up the proprietor and becoming a most visible presence. This is analogous to their presence throughout Berlin and Germany. It's amazing how, if anything, films have been quite accurate in their depiction of Nazis. They were plain and simple thugs who relied on brute force to gain and especially to hold power.

Cabaret also features the dramatic scene in a park where the Nazi youth starts singing "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" (surprisingly, it was not a real Nazi anthem but written for the film). I once saw Cabaret in Finland and aside from subtitles, of course, the only difference was the song being sung in German. Even without understanding the language, it made the scene even more powerful. The Nazis came into power without majority support, but one of the ways in which they quickly attained it was by playing on the citizenry's patriotism. They made great use of iconography as well. The scene in the park captures this.

Michael York plays Brian Roberts, a character who bears a resemblance to Isherwood. His sexuality is more ambiguous than the homosexual Isherwood and makes for one of the story's more dramatic elements. He of course becomes smitten with Sally Bowles (Liza Minelli in on Oscar winning performance) with whom he has his first successful heterosexual experience. Nonetheless he also has a dalliance with a man, a Baron who is also screwing Sally.

The frankness of the sex was relatively knew when the film came out and, while tame by today's standards, it serves the story quite well. The whole screw the baron, I have and so have I exchange is still powerful today. Indeed, Cabaret is a movie that holds up quite well and likely always will.

Among other things Cabaret is about a doomed relationship. Brian and Sally are meant to be the good friends they start out as, but marriage and children is not in the cards. This is not meant to surprise us. We've all been in relationships in which we pretend its going further then we know it possibly can. Like Brian and Sally's.

I don't generally care for musicals. I mean there's often a rather nice story being told and suddenly everyone bursts into a choreographed song accompanied by orchestration. Fine, perhaps, for you. Just not my cup of tea. That said, I love a good Astaire and Rogers movie, perhaps because its them doing the dancing. Also their numbers often are part of the story and not a separate reality. All the songs in Cabaret are in the night club and enhance the story telling process. Besides that they're all either very good or bloody wonderful numbers. Minelli and the title song have a lot to do with that but there can be no under estimating the performance of Joel Grey as the master of the ceremonies (he too won an Oscar).

He is truly one of the more...hmmm, let's say, interesting, characters in film. This despite the fact that every line he speaks is from the stage and is either part of a song or is spoken as part of his emcee duties. I have variously found him creepy (that tongue directed at Sally) charming, delightful, and menacing. He is a very broad character yet one we can draw our own conclusions about.

Cabaret is one of those films that, if you'll excuse the cliché, works on so many levels. It is a toe tapping musical, a love story, a history lesson, a vehicle for the incredible talents of Minelli and Grey. Bob Fosse directed and neither he nor Minelli nor Grey ever did anything to match Cabaret on film. That is, to turn a phrase on its head, criticizing them with faint damnation. You could certainly hang your hat on this film and call it one helluva career.

Here's a post I wrote about the film in 2009.

Three Bogies, Woody, Warren, Lawrence and the Brothers Marx -- The Films That Saw Me Through the Flu This Past Week

It is a tradition at Riku Writes that once a year I get floored by the flu. It's never enough to send me into delirium but powerful enough to make reading a chore and working an impossibility. The bright side is that I get to spend some quality time on the sofa with some beloved friends -- movies.

Here's a capsule looks at some of those that sustained me these past seven days. Bringing intellectual nourishment to accompany the Tylenol, hot tea and tissues.

Duck Soup (1933). How is it possible that you can not only know the lines that are coming but say them along with the characters and still bust the proverbial gut with guffaws? I dunno either but it happens whenever I watch this, my favorite Marx Brothers film. Surely the delivery of the quips has much to do with it. All hail Freedonia and its fearless and witty leader Rufus T. Firefly as played by the comic genius, Groucho Marx. More than any of their other films this is his picture. Chico and Harpo are in strong supporting roles and Zeppo shows up for the last time. Margaret Dumont is indispensable as Mrs. Teasdale. Nearly 80 years later what passes for comedy in movies today is Adam Sandler getting hit in the crotch. Talk about not making em like they used to.... As Firefly said:  "I got a good mind to join a club and beat you over the head with it."

Lawrence of Arabia (1962). I love/hate this movie. Perhaps that's stretching it. I really like/dislike this movie. Oh never mind. Point is my thoughts are decidedly mixed (you guessed?). On the one hand, every time I watch it I want to run out and by every book available by and about T.E. Lawrence. Peter O'Toole gives one of cinema's great performances as the iconoclastic Lawrence. "I'm different," he says of himself by way of explanation early in the film. And how! Wonderfully so. Surrounded by stiff upper lips by-the-book British military, he marched to the beat of his own drummer. Sometimes through the desert. But with each viewing I become increasingly bothered by a film of well over three hours with nary a word from a female, or even a gander at one for that matter. Worse is Alec Guiness as an Arab. Worse still is how everyone speaks English. I know, I know, the film was made at a different time. Slavery was at a different time too and I still hate it. It's epic, sweeping, masterful and a creaky old anachronism.

Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948). Oh Fred Dobbs, when will you ever learn? You could have had wealth and happiness. But plenty was not enough. Greed cost you your sanity then your life. Humphrey Bogart was at this very best as Dobbs in this remarkable John Huston film. So was Huston's dad, Walter who copped a well-earned Best Supporting Oscar (not even a nomination for Bogie? now that's insane!) The younger Huston also was rewarded for his direction and screenplay. TOTSM is a film that works on so many levels which means it never gets tiresome. Hell, when does great film making ever tire one?

The Big Sleep (1946). I once wrote on this here blog that I didn't think I could not respect the opinion of anyone who didn't at least like this movie. I'm going to have stand by that. Yes it's Bogie and Bacall. Yes there's a byzantine plot. Yes it's a classic whodunit with many people having been dun. Sure there's a lot of other classy and sexy dames besides Bacall to brighten the scenery. But its the dialogue that does it for me. Five examples:

1.Vivian: You go too far, Marlowe. 

Marlowe: Those are harsh words to throw at a man, especially when he's walking out of your bedroom. 

2.General Sternwood: How do you like your brandy, sir? 

Philip Marlowe: In a glass. 

3.Philip Marlowe: She tried to sit in my lap while I was standing up. 

4.Vivian: I don't like your manners. 

Marlowe: And I'm not crazy about yours. I didn't ask to see you. I don't mind if you don't like my manners, I don't like them myself. They are pretty bad. I grieve over them on long winter evenings. I don't mind your ritzing me drinking your lunch out of a bottle. But don't waste your time trying to cross-examine me. 

5.Philip Marlowe: My, my, my! Such a lot of guns around town and so few brains! You know, you're the second guy I've met today that seems to think a gat in the hand means the world by the tail. 

Play it Again, Sam (1972). Not to be confusing, but this is not a Woody Allen though he wrote it and stars in it. Also this is still another Bogie film though not really since he's not it though someone plays him. To clarify: it's not a "Woody" in that he did not direct it (Herbert Ross did) which to a lot of people is a hard and fast rule about constituting Woodys, so to speak. And Bogie is a character in the film played by an actor (Jerry Lacy). Play it Again, Sam is just as funny today as it was nearly 40 years ago. It was Allen when he was writing thoughtfully funny comedies and playing the lead to hilarious perfection. It's his first film pairing with Diane Keaton and they are magic together. Tony Robert's as Keaton's husband is rock solid here as he was often for Allen movies. The setting is San Francisco. Allen is a recently divorced cinephile so obsessed with Humphrey Bogart that Bogie's apparition visits and counsels him. It's a great comedy and a veritable ode to Bogie in general and Casablanca (1942) in particular.

The Parallax View (1974) This film is like a great story being told by someone who mumbles. Warren Beatty is a reporter who investigates a political assassination from three years before as witnesses to the killing keep dyeing, including a friend of his. He is led to the mysterious Parallax Corporation which, as it turns out, seems to be responsible for the killings at the behest of God-knows-who. It's all fascinating and for a generation brought up as its inspirational leaders were getting bumped off in most peculiar ways, it is an important topic to explore. There's a lot of plausibility to the story and at worst it gives viewers a lot to chew on. The Parallax View is the very quintessence of the paranoid political thriller of 1970's cinema (a topic I once explored on this here blog). But there are a few scenes that stick out like very sore thumbs. Such as an over the top bar fight that adds nothing to the story and the implausible coincidence that leads to Beatty unfoiling a plot to explode an airplane in flight. The story is also told in a hazy, jumpy way that speaks poorly of either director Alan Pakula or his editor or both. Still I re-visit The Parallax View every few years and am always glad I did.

Dark Passage (1947) It should now be quite obvious that I see real healing powers in watching the films of Humphrey Bogart. This is also another Bogie and Bacall production and I'm going to get extremely controversial here and state that she was never lovelier than in The Dark Passage. Bogie gives a solid if somewhat understated performance. After all we don't really seem him until an hour into the picture. Oh he's in it from the get go all right but he starts off with a different face before plastic surgery gives him the mug we all know and love. Thus the first third of the movie we see not him but what he sees. It could be annoying but it's not. Thank you director Delmar Daves. Later his face is wrapped in bandages. Course we don't much miss him what with Bacall to set our peepers on. Agnes Moorehead is part of the show too and brudder what a stinker! Yeah, she gets hers. San Francisco is the setting again. Bogie plays an escaped con holing up with Bacall hoping to clear his name. There's the requisite suspense and romance but this is a happy film noir at heart. Great cinematography highlights the film. Speaking of Daves, he also wrote the screenplay. His other credits include a musical, Dames (1934), a war picture, Destination Tokyo (1943) and a sappy love story, Love Affair (1939). That's versatility!

So You Want to Start Watching Films of the Seventies, An Introduction

So You Want to Start Watching _______is an occasional feature here at Riku Writes. It is a guide to anyone unfamiliar with a particular star, director, genre, or time period in films. After a brief introduction, I will provide a sampling of films to watch. Although I will always strive to include the best possible films for each chapter in the series, I will also look to present representative work. I'll say a little bit about each film, all of which will be provided in chronological order. This is the third of the series. In the first I provided an introduction to the films of Humphrey Bogart and the second was an intro to screwball comedies.

Question: what was the best decade of American films? Answer: that most certainly depends on your taste in movies. Most cinephiles will argue for the 1930's or 1970's. The 1950's has a few supporters, TCM host Robert Osborne likes the 1940's, silent film buffs will undoubtedly extol the 1920's and many of the younger generation favor the last decade. I don't know that the 1980's or 1990's have many advocates.

For my money (what little there is of it) the Thirties has the big edge in quantity of good films but the Seventies boasts an advantage in quality. The 1970's were a perfect storm for films. The studio system had come tumbling down as had censorship. There was a plethora of independent minded directors and screen writers who were getting free reign. Technical innovations had not yet morphed into an over reliance on special effects. And a changing Western Culture was ready for and indeed demanding more of cinematic artists. We've not seen the likes of the 70's in film since and may never. 

I could easily recommend dozens of films to get you started exploring the Seventies, but I've simplified the task for myself in the following ways: one film per year, American films only and none of the more obvious films that you're likely already seen such as The Godfather (1972), The Godfather Part II (1974), Annie Hall (1977), Manhattan (1979), Cabaret (1972), Dog Day Afternoon (1975), Apocalypse Now (1979), Taxi Driver (1976) or Jaws (1975). I've also made a point to give you a variety of film types including horror/sci fi, comedy, gangster, thriller, cops and robbers and the always popular disco film.

The Strawberry Statement (1970) Why not start your tour of 1970's cinema with a film that looks at the 1960's? That is the campus protest movements that helped (as they say in documentaries) define a generation. TSS has held up over time, at least for someone like me who was "there." It centers around one student who simultaneously gets caught up in love (what guy wouldn't fall for Kim Darby in 1970?) and sticking it to the man. TSS features a great soundtrack. Sadly it's not available on DVD and is rarely shown on the telly but you can watch it via Amazon on demand.

The Last Picture Show (1971)  To many film lovers of today, Peter Bogdanovich is a frequent talking head on DVD special features and the author of some of the better books on movies. But he's had an up and down career as a director and this was his big up, so to speak. And it was a really big up. It features a great cast including Ben Johnson, Cloris Leachman, Cybill Shepard, Timothy Bottoms and a very young clean shaven Jeff Bridges. It is about the death of a West Texas town in the 1950's, including its lone movie house. Screenplay by legendary writer Larry McMurtry.

The Getaway (1972) It's directed by Sam Peckinpah so you know there's no shortage of blood. It stars Steve McQueen so you know there's no shortage of cool. McQueen is Doc McCoy who gets out of prison just in time to get in on a big bank heist. There's screw ups and double crosses and McQueen along with his lovely wife (Ali McGraw) on the lam to Mexico with murderous accomplices in hot pursuit. No production code to dictate how it all turns out.

Mean Streets (1973) Before they made Taxi Driver, Raging Bull (1980) and Goodfellas (1990), Director Martin Scorsese and actor Robert Deniro made this terrific film -- albeit DeNiro was not the star, Harvey Keitel was. It is rough, especially compared to the slicker films Scorsese has made recently. But it is wonderfully rough in a manner appropriate to the story of small time hoods in the mean streets of New York. It has a verve and excitement that presages Scorsese's later works. But it is a great film in its own right.

The Conversation (1974) Gene Hackman likes to listen, so much so that he does it for a living. This is one four Best Picture nominees from director Francis Ford Coppola in an eight year span. It is too often the forgotten one. For more see this post of mine from August '09.

Love and Death (1975) This film answers the question: What would you get if you combined Ingmar Bergman with Groucho Marx. I don't know what I can add to that. Although you could check out this post I wrote about the film last Fall.

Marathon Man (1976) Dustin Hoffman is a graduate student who likes to run. But this is the 1970's when any poor schmoe could find himself in the midst of a vast conspiracy in which no one can be trusted. Laurence Olivier is a sadistic ex Nazi dentist who works on our hero's teeth sans novocaine. Ouch. Marathon Man is one of the many excellent political thrillers of the decade.

Saturday Night Fever (1977) Daddy, did they really make a good movie about a guy who danced disco? They sure did. Re-visiting it today one is struck by how dark a film it is. Yes there's plenty of leisure suits, Bee Gee songs and John Travolta shaking his booty, but there's also a story of working class angst and the desperation to escape it. There are also people at war, not the military kind, but the day-to-day grind within families and communities. At once entertaining and thought-provoking.

Animal House (1978) I think its one of the funniest movies ever made. The late John Belushi is the star of a delightful ensemble cast. Watching it today makes one wonder what else he'd have achieved as a comic actor. Animal House the story of a renegade frat house that goes up against the stuffed shirt fraternity and the mentally constipated campus administration. Most of all its good dirty fun.

Alien (1979) My understanding is that 99% of horror and sci fi movies today are suitable only for flushing. "Back in the day" director Ridley Scott created this classic of the genre that sadly has been sequeled and imitated to death. It is an intelligent film rife with tension and it hasn't aged a day. Either this kind of film is hard to make, producers today settle for cheap thrills or Scott and company just hit a massive home run.


Others to consider: Network (1976), Three Days of the Condor (1975), All the President's Men (1976), The French Connection (1971), The Man Who Would Be King (1975), The Last Detail (1973), The Sting (1973), The Exorcist (1973), Serpico (1973), Little Big Man (1970),  Play it Again, Sam (1972), The Front (1976), A Clockwork Orange (1971), Barry Lyndon (1975) and on and on and on.....

"I've Suffered the Tortures of the Damned Sir, Tortures of the Damned." I Revisit A Clockwork Orange

We are all unique. Just like snowflakes. Each of is special. Blessed not only with body and mind but the capacity to understand our own mortality and to choose our path in in the world. Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are uniquely human concepts and quests.

Motion pictures can depict humans as thinking, breathing three dimensional characters or make stick figures of us. In the former case the film is not only entertaining us but helping to illuminate what is so special about the human condition.

There, I've just addressed my enduring interest in Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange (1971).

I watched it today (how many times is that since it's release? at least a dozen) with not the slightest notion that I'd subsequently be writing about it. After all I'd previously written a post on this blog on A Clockwork Orange in 2008. But today I was struck by the question of why I so very much love a film about so horrible a main character. Alex DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell) is charming -- like many a sociopath -- but he is a murderer, rapist and thief who cares not a wit about anyone else. What's to like about a film centering on such an ogre?

As it turns out, plenty.

Alex is, to put it mildly, only human. For better or worse (mostly worse) he's the only fully formed human character in the movie. From the safe distance provided by fiction and the celluloid, he's fascinating to watch, if repellant to contemplate in real life form.

It's striking to note how intentionally facile or one dimensional Kubrick made the rest of the cast.

The one slight exception is Frank Alexander (Patrick Magee) who early in the film is the victim of one of Alex's break-ins and subsequent beatings and must endure watching the brutal rape of his wife. Alex stumbles across him later in the story after having been "cured" by the government sponsored aversion therapy. Mr. Alexander leaps at the chance to help the poor lad as a means of exposing the government. He soon realizes that it is this same young man who sent him into a wheelchair and his wife to an early grave. Watching him face this realization and then gleefully drive Alex to an attempted suicide is one of the film's high points.

But this is the exception that makes it a rule. Alex's parents, fellow gang bangers, prison mates, victims and all assorted law enforcement and government officials and healthcare providers are caricatures. This is actually a trademark of Kubrick films. In 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), the computer HAL has as much personality as anyone else. Barry Lyndon (1975) is much more about the scenery and the numerous gorgeous set pieces then any of the actors. Even lead Ryan O'Neal is less interesting than a wall hanging.

So we are allowed (forced) to focus on and thus contemplate Alex. Against our better judgment we take his side and root for him. We want him to have the better of his rebellious gang members, and to escape the clutches of the law and rejoice in his ultimate "cure." We want that because he's relatable. Like us a person of free will, of varied interests and talents. Alex is living in the world as his own person, making his own rules excersing every ounce of his free will. That's what we all want. Oh sure we hope and pray that our fellow travelers will choose to practice the credo of doing unto others, but damn it all this is fiction. Let us revel in his individuality and celebrate our access to this most interesting character's travails. Plus the young man's doing what he wants to do, not what is expected of him. That's and admirable trait in a film character.

Really this is one of the beauties of film, the exploration of a character as she or faces the various highs, lows and curve balls that life has to offer. Too many modern film directors forget that character is king instead emphasizing action and special effects. Ingmar Bergman was the master of exploring individuals in various situations. In A Clockwork Orange, Kubrick has placed someone within a futuristic context (albeit one that is easy enough to imagine) and allowed us to see his responses to all manner of circumstances.

While the events are often extraordinary, in terms of people Alex is surrounded by the exaggerated and bland. What a great way to look at him.

The very essence of the film and novel of the same name by Anthony Burgess, is the notion of free will. For better or worse we must all be allowed to make our own way in the world. When Alex is programmed to be repulsed by sex and violence he has lost the a birthright that we all hold dear. Who points this out in the film? The prison chaplain who says: "Goodness is something to be chosen. When a man cannot choose he ceases to be a man."  Someone in the service of God is acutely aware that a disciple who is forced or programmed to serve is no disciple at all.

A Clockwork Orange remains a fascinating film nearly four decades after its premier. Visually it bears the Kubrick style. It's bleak view of the future, so colorfully rendered, is powerful. It poses important questions about human nature. But ultimately I believe much of its appeal is in the character of Alex. Cruel, brutal, Beethoven-loving, over-sexed and charming. His own person. Utterly, totally and completely human. Perhaps the Minister or the Interior says it best: "He's enterprising, aggressive, outgoing, young, bold, vicious. He'll do."

Quite nicely as a matter of fact.

Every Dog Has His Day and So Does Every Sociopath

He was a big man there for a little while. Real big. Got his 15 minutes of fame and then some. His name was John Wotjowicz and he was a nobody. Until he robbed a bank. It was August 22, 1972 and in a span of a few hours the 27 year old loser had the full attention of the local media. Wotjowicz was not just on TV, he was live. Though this was a Brooklyn story, it ultimately gained national attention.

John and his partner Salvatore Naturile had come to be surrounded in the bank by hundreds of law enforcement officers. Thus the robbery became a hostage situation with the two holding eight bank employees and demanding a jet to the country of their choosing.

TV cameras were soon on the scene and Wotjowicz played to the camera. He was not a hero but he was a celebrity. It was reality TV years ahead of its time and without the artifice of a made up situation. It even offered what was by that day's standards a bizarre subplot. It turned out that Jim was married to a man (it simply wasn't done then at all) and part of his motivation for the bank heist was so that he could pay for his beloved's sex change operation. But of course that's not all, for Jim who also had a female wife and with her two young children. It was a story that wrote itself.

Wotjowicz drew a live crowd along with TV viewers and he knew how to work a room, so to speak. He could often be seen cavorting about outside discussing terms with the cops and FBI while Sal kept an eye on the hostages. Wotjowicz played to crowd and they loved it. This man was a classic sociopath.

But after 14 hours the drama ended at the airport with Naturile dead and Wotjowicz in handcuffs. So it goes.

Wotjowicz might have faded into obscurity but for the Sidney Lumet directed drama Dog Day Afternoon released three years after the actual events. Al Pacino played him with John's name changed to Sonny Wortzik. His story was now eternal, forever on film. And as the film has become a classic, never to be forgotten.

Part of the allure of the Dog Day is Pacino's performance, which remains one of the greatest ever in cinema. Premiere Magazine rated it as the fourth best of all time. As far as such things can be measured, they got it about right.

Pacino gave his character equal portions of charm, charisma, pathos, sensitivity, rage, insanity and most of all verve. It is an exciting performance for how daring it is. I still remember seeing it for the first time and being stunned by how compelling a persona he'd made of this man and how grounded in truth it all felt. It is nothing less than an extension of Brando's turn as Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire (1951).

In the entire film there are two shots fired and not a hint of a car chase or explosion. Instead we are presented a great deal of dialogue and it is so real and yet lively and thoroughly engrossing and entertaining.

The "real Sonny" not only entertained the crowds outside but his hostages as well. They were enthralled by this "character." It was not the Stockholm Syndrome nor even in this case the Brooklyn Syndrome. It was just being around a guy who had a special light glowing feverishly out of him. Never mind that he was somewhat bonkers.

Pacino is not the only actor to distinguish himself in the film. Charles Durning is wonderful as the chief negotiator and John Cazale played Sal. Every film Cazale appeared in before his premature death was nominated for the Best Picture Oscar. It can't just be a coincidence.

Dog Day Afternoon did not try to re-create the events depicted verbatim. Indeed much of the dialogue was improvised, per Lumet's desires. That decision enabled the actors to truly inhabit their characters and faithfully render the feeling of that day and the bizarre man in the middle of it. And for all that improvisation the movie does not stray very far from "the way it really was."

That it was to be a bank robbery like no other is evident early in the film. Sonny's gun is disguised in large long box with a ribbon on it. When the robbery is to commence he attempts to boldly whip the rifle out. Like many small things in life, it does not come off perfectly. The box stubbornly hangs on and Sonny has to whip it away. Then there is the matter of the third accomplice to the robbery. He gets a "bad vibe" about the whole thing and quickly begs off. He and Sonny argue a bit over the car keys before he splits.

It is a film remarkably free of cliches. It is more the type of film to be imitated. Such as the scene when Sonny famously gets onlookers to chant "Attica, Attica, Attica!" Sonny has fashioned himself into a local hero. Like the bandits of old who later became folk heroes. When his bisexuality becomes known, the gay community comes out to root on one of their own.

Dog Day Afternoon features one of the greatest sequences I've ever seen in a film. It comes about half way through the drama. Sonny suspects that the police are trying to break into the back of the bank. To discourage them he fires a shot into a transom. All hell breaks loose. We see it in quick cuts. From the cops running, to Sonny running, to Sal, to the hostages, to command central, back and forth we get quick glimpses of what each major player and group in the drama is doing in reaction to this single gun shot. It lasts not quite 40 seconds of screen time. In that short time we see and even feel a whirlwind of reactions and actions. Amazing stuff. Just like the story itself.

Footnote: Some years ago my darling wife, Kathryn, was living in Santa Barbara (we had not yet met). An acquaintance had organized a visit into Lompoc prison as part of a program he was involved in. There was to be a group session between a few civilians and some of the inmates. Kathryn went along. Among the group of prisoners was John Wotjowicz. He bore no resemblance to Pacino pasty faced, reddish brown hair and not nearly as handsome. She remembers him as a charismatic man (typical of sociopaths) who went to great lengths to impress everyone.


Wotjowicz was able to see some profit from the film (it is no longer legal to so profit from a criminal endeavor) and thus paid for his lover's sex change operation. She died of AIDS at the age of 41 in 1987. That same year John was released from prison having served 25 years. He died of cancer in 2006 at the age of 60.

A Tale of Seafaring Predators -- Jaws and Das Boot

Great white sharks and German U Boats during World War II. One is a menacing and deadly killer and the other is a menacing and deadly killer. What's your choice Hobson?

They are also both subjects of two fantastic films.

Jaws (1975) and the German made Das Boot (1981) are each as technically perfect as any movies ever made. Sound effects, cinematography, editing, score, all aspects of each film are flawless. I can only imagine that any detractors of either film are simply not enamored of their genres. For the rest of us its simply a matter of whether we like, really like, love or worship the films.

Jaws is best known for scaring the pants of people and dissuading some from swimming in the ocean (truth be told I was even leery of the nearby creek after seeing Jaws for the first time). "Scary" movies have gotten, and richly deserved, a bad rap in recent years because in most cases that's all that they're about. Moreover many of them tend more towards the gross and horrific, failing altogether to generate tension and often foregoing any attempt at creating a reality. Not Jaws.

The tension is palpable and full marks to the director the then youngster Steven Speilberg. In cinematic terms the great thing about a shark is that you can never be sure when its going to strike and it often does so seemingly from nowhere. They are fast critters that sometimes strike from below. Other times they let you know when you're about as their tell tale fins skim right along the surface. Spielberg took advantage of the stealth nature of the great white shark and waited until half way into the film before showing us the massive size of the beast, especially it's mouth and razor sharp teeth.

Hitchcock knew better than any film director that what you don't see is often the scariest. Spielberg introduced the concept to the briny. Having the camera occasionally watch scenes from the shark's perspective turned out to be a masterstroke.

Jaws benefitted from a strong cast. Everyone is familiar with Richard Dreyfuss, Roy Scheider and Robert Shaw and their inestimable contributions to the success of the movie. But I'd like to give a tip of the cap to Murray Hamilton as the town mayor. He played the everything's-going-to-be-all-right-let's-keep-the-beaches-open bonhomie as long as he could. When the consequences cost another life his reaction was priceless. Just as he did in The Graduate (1967), Hamilton made the very most of a small role.

Das Boot is a seemingly different film entirely set as it is aboard a German U-Boat during WWII. But it not only shares the same sort of technical perfection, it also is masterful at creating tension. The men aboard the sub are in the fascinating twin roles of being both the hunter and the hunted. Stealth and deadly from below, like the shark, they prey upon ships. They often striking quite suddenly and usually with devastating results for their quarry. But like our razor toothed friend in Jaws they can find themselves suddenly being chased and a successful attack on a submarine almost never means any survivors. unlike the shark, the men aboard the U-boat are quite aware of the dangers they face and spend many of their hours living in fear. It's no wonder that when we first meet the crew they are taking full advantage of shore leave and partying like there's no tomorrow -- for them there's every chance there won't be.

I've watched Das Boot (one of my favorite films of all time) many times and am increasingly struck by just how little "action" there is. Of course I'm referring to action in the sense of bombs exploding, shots being fired, and full bore chases. But this is quite appropriate, after all much of a soldier or sailor's war time experience is spent fighting, not the enemy, but boredom. Fortunately in Das Boot none of it is boring for audiences.

Even when not in battle ,life is interesting aboard a submarine, at least in the hands of a good director. Wolfgang Peterson "captained" this movie and its surprising how he has never done anything to compare. He captured the claustrophobic nature of submarine life and the fascinating stew that can emerge when dozens of humans are packed together in one. People who are alternately hungry for the enemy and desperately scared of him.

The crew of the sub form one of the better ensemble casts you'll ever see. Particularly in the person of the sub's captain played by Jurgen Prochnow. He is every bit the grizzled veteran and the firm but fair leader. He's not given to strong emotions and is frustrated by higher ups while devoted to his men.

Das Boot's best moments are when the sub is being stalked. The ping, ping, ping of the sonar is one of the most effective bits of sound effects in film. We feel the agony of the men as they wait for the possibility of death from above with depth charges exploding all around them. And oh by the way, these are Nazis we are fretting for. It's easily forgotten. Early in the film we meet an officer who is a staunch Nazi ideologue, one who is scoffed at for his rigidity, but for the most part we think of the sailors as just men and because we are following their story we may not exactly root for them but we certainly wish them no harm. All this is drummed home to us when the sub surfaces after sinking a ship and they watch in horror the fruits of their labors, English sailors jumping from their burning ship piteously crying for help. One of the U-boat officers weeps. Its an incredibly touching moment that reminds us a lot about the madness of war. So too does the ending of the film which gives us a textbook definition of ironic.

I recently watched Jaws and Das Boot on consecutive days so drawing the similarities I did was all the easier. The main thing they have in common is they do what we hope and expect from great art: they capture our imaginations.

One Flew East, One Flew West, The Book or the Movie, Which Was Best?

Crazy, man, crazy.

Finished reading Ken Kesey's novel, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest last night. Hadn't read it before (hey, it's only been out for 47 years!). Moments after finishing the final page I realized that I'd read what has been correctly labeled a classic of American literature.

Today, courtesy of Netflix, I popped a copy of Milos Forman's 1975 cinematic version of the book into ye olde DVD player. The movie I had seen -- though not for many, many years -- and very much admired.

So now it's time again to play: so what did you like better, the book or the movie? Not so fast. I don't like to play that game. Books and films are two very different art forms and indulging in comparisons creates a false dichotomy. After all would one compare a song with a painting? But people do compare books and movies when the latter is based on the former, after all they are both forms of narrative so the question can be raised: which did a better job of telling the story?

Sounds a reasonable posit, but again misleading. After all each medium has very different ways of telling that story. One can utilize visual imagery, the other can explore the mind's of characters and give deeper background.

So the debate rages on....

But I confess to this, I'm slightly less impressed with the film after seeing how it diverged from Kesey's novel. Kesey told the story from the perspective of  Chief Bromden and it was very much an allegorical tale about the United States. Adding a character, dropping one compositing a few, taking out scenes and changing others is often a necessary evil when translating literature to feature film, but here the tone of Kesey's novel is changed.

Kesey was reportedly very upset about the way his story was treated and has steadfastly refused to see the movie. I understand his frustration. He told a very important story in a manner that is the equal to what the greats of American literature have accomplished and its largely missing in the movie. On the other hand he's missing one helluva good show.

Jack Nicholson and Louise Fletcher as McMurphy and Nurse Ratched respectively brought the two main characters to life. It is impossible to imagine any actors doing more justice to the roles. (That they won the Best Actor and Best Actress Oscars, demonstrates that the Academy does sometimes make the right choice.) The rest of the cast is similarly inspired, including up and comers named Danny Devito and Christopher Lloyd who would share small screen time in Taxi, one of the great sitcoms of all time.

The film catches much of what Kesey was saying about institutions, rules, rebellions, power and any number of related topics. The pacing, the very rhythm  of the film, its occasional bleakness and sometimes manic moments are cinematic gold.

It's what is missing, however, that was evident to me. I believe the filmmakers took the easy way out. They put the focus on Nicholson and Fletcher and made some easy points through their relationship and the whirlwind of activity and emotion that their psycho dialectics wrought. For their troubles they ended up with a critical and commercial success. Not too shabby.

But the large sums of money the movie made must have been cold comfort to Kesey. This did not reflect on the thoughtful story he was telling of American power as symbolized by "the combine" described in the book. Chief's feigned deafness, the McMurphy vs. Ratched battles and the mental institution itself were all powerful metaphors. You could have told that story in the movie. Because of the movie's success it has become iconic and will not be re-made in a way that Kesey would find more pleasing.

So am I in fact yielding in my long-held position that you cannot compare a book and a movie based on that writing? No. Particularly when said movie is almost invariably described as "based on..." That the film One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is not of the caliber of the book upon which it is based does not make any less of film. They are independently and separately outstanding pieces of art. Let's leave it at.

(By the way I'm well qualified to make judgments on books and movies that purport to tell stories set in insane asylums. You see, I taught middle school for nearly 20 years....)

My Twenty Favorite Films of the Decade -- But it's Not What You Think

Anyone who's associated with film criticism has recently published their top ten films of the decade. Being an unabashed list maker myself one would fully expect me to join in with a top ten of my own. First of all I don't think ten is enough for a decade, you should have 20, ten is for individual years as per my recent 2009 list. So this must be my top 20 of the oughts, right?

No.

I tried.

There were some excellent films (No Country for Old Men (2007), The Aviator (2004), Inglourious Basterds (2009), Y Tu Mama Tambien (2001), Der Untergang (2004)) but for the back end of the list the pickings were pretty slim. Even when I cut the list in half and went with the more traditional ten, the last few seemed unworthy of the best of a decade. So... ever the iconoclast I am going ahead with a top 20 of a decade only from a different ten year period -- the Seventies. Folks, this one was easy. The Seventies were lousy with great films. Actually there was some difficulty associated with compiling this list -- limiting it to 20.  Was the Seventies the best decade of film? That honor may go to the Thirties and yes I may present a top twenty films from that decade later. But I'm in a Seventies kind of mood (anyone care to go to the disco?). If you love movies and there's a film on this list you haven't seen, suffice it to say that I strongly urge you to pop a copy in your DVD soonest.

The Godfather (1972)

Amarcord (1973)

Manhattan (1979)

Aguirre: Wrath of God (1972)

Cabaret (1972)

Apocalypse Now (1979)

A Clockwork Orange (1971)

The Godfather Part II (1974)

Murmur of the Heart (1971) Pictured above.

Network (1976)

Annie Hall (1977)

Soldier of Orange (1977)

Taxi Driver (1976)

Animal House (1978)

Small Change (1976)

The Marriage of Maria Braun (1979)

Dog Day Afternoon (1975)

The Last Picture Show (1971)

The Tin Drum (1979)

Lacombe Lucien (1974)

Day for Night (1976)

Mean Streets (1973)

Yes, Einstein, I realize that this list has 22 films in it. Sue me.

A Riku Writes Classic: Trick or Treat or Movie, With All New Content

In October of last year I wrote a widely acclaimed post with recommended Halloween season films for your viewing pleasure. As a service to my readers (both of us) I am reproducing that post in toto below. As an added bonus I am suggesting a half dozen other Halloween appropriate films that you may enjoy, all good for scare a laugh or at least your amusement. So within this post you'll find films that feature isolated castles, terrifying ghosts, hideous monsters, strange apparitions, mysterious powers, blood curdling screams and things that go bump in the night. Most of all you'll find some wonderful cinematic alternatives to bumming candy off your neighbors or enduring a silly costume party.

First the post titled "Trick Treat or Movie" from October 23, 2008.

Halloween is just around the corner (how's that for hokey intro!). Many of us old geezers no longer play dress up. And if the kiddies are too old to trick or treat (at least with parents in tow) we're free to stay at home and enjoy a scary movie or two.

Hollywood has been churning out horror films since the silent era. Sadly, the genre has recently morphed into slasher films that emphasize gratuitous gore. But there's still plenty to choose from from days of yore. Here's a sampling of choices for your Halloween viewing pleasure.

Bride of Frankenstein (1935) Not just the best of the classic horror films of the Thirties, a wonderful film in its own right. The great James Whale's direction along with an intelligent script for a seemingly preposterous story outshine even the magical performance of Boris Karloff. Colin "it's Alive!" Clive is the now conflicted scientist and Elsa Lanchester is the blushing young bride. But Ernest Thesiger as the evil Dr. Pretorious is an absolute scene-stealer. This is a must-see film.

Frankenstein (1931) How about a shout out for the original? While out shined by the sequel its still an excellent film. Clive, Karloff and the prototype of the angry mob star. Excellent cinematography and some touching moments highlight this classic.

The Old Dark House (1932) It was a dark and stormy night. Let's see a group of travelers seek refuge from a driving rainstorm in a forbidding looking mansion. What could go wrong? You'll see. The residents are a decidedly odd lot with a temperamental butler. Amazing cast including Melvyn Douglass, Raymond Massey, Gloria Stuart, Charles Laughton that man Karloff again and the delightful Thesiger (watch and listen as he offers his guests potatoes). This is my third straight Whale selection. Obviously he had the Gothic horror story down cold.

Alien (1979) No, no, no it's not science fiction it's a horror film. This time the role of the haunted mansion is played by a space ship and the victims/heroes are astronauts. This does not change the fact that all the elements of the horror film are at work. While the Alien is terrifying (and set the standard for many years to come) it's those moments when it is lurking off screen that are tense and scary.

The Exorcist (1973) I was reading the book in college on a weekend when my roommates all happened to be out of town. I slept in the living room with lights on and though not a religious man I've worn a cross around my neck ever since. The movie is just as frightening even after repeat viewings. An innocent young lass is possessed by the devil (don't you just hate that). Satan is profane, duplicitous and oh so dangerous. A great film by any standard.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) I like this better than the original (my God I've got a sequel and a re-make on this list, who'd of thunk). An absolutely terrifying concept expertly done by director Philip Kaufman. Alien clones are invading bodies and the human race is in peril. Will star Donald Sutherland save humanity or fall victim to this alien plot? The very notion of retaining your human form but your mind being taken over is chilling (hey, that sounds like Scientology!).

Psycho (1960) I know you've seen it a few times already but like a lot of Hitchcock's finest it gets better with each viewing. It never loses its suspense (how did Hitch do that?). Just don't think about it in the shower. Janet Leigh and Vera Miles star along with the creepy Anthony Perkins and his..um "mom.."

Young Frankenstein (1974) Why not some Halloween chuckles? I've never been a huge Mel Brooks fan but I love this film. This is, of course the classic send off of the Frankenstein film with Gene Wilder as the doctor and Peter Boyle as the monster. The all star cast includes Teri Garr, Cloris Leachman and Marty Feldman as the funniest Igor you'll ever see.

The Ring (2002) What's this? I have a film of recent vintage? Yes. I obviously quite liked it. It's a mystery as much as a horror film (many scary movies are) with an intelligent plot. The opportunity to enjoy Naomi Watts is a plus. She's both a great beauty and a great actress.

The Shining (1980) If he'd a mind to Stanley Kubrick could likely have directed a lot of good horror films and Jack Nicholson could have starred in them. Their respective directing and acting styles lent themselves to the genre. The Shining is proof. A family of caretakers in a snowed in mountain resort. The father goes bats. Supernatural events take place. Kudos to Stephen King's story and Kubrick's adaptation of it.

Omen (1976) What could possibly be scarier than the anti-Christ? I can't think of anything either. Gregory Peck is an American statesman who's got the bad fortune of being the anti-Christ's father (and you thought your kid was a little devil). Richard Donner was the perfect man to direct this. It's got grisly deaths, tension and excitement and maybe a little something for bible thumpers and agnostics alike to think about. There are sequels and remakes aplenty but stick to this, the original.

Rosemary's Baby (1968) What could be worse than fathering the devil? How about giving birth to it? That was Mia Farrow's lot in this wonderfully scary Roman Polanski film. The worst part is that everyone seems to be in on it. Not knowing whom you can trust is scary stuff indeed. What's really scary is when there's such a sense of normalcy but you gradually discover something is amiss. Horribly so.

Dracula (1931) We close with this absolute classic. No one will ever be better in the title role than was Bela Lugosi. His performance is one of the reasons that this Dracula version ages so well. A seductive and intelligent demon is the worst kind to deal with. Repeat viewings only increase the film's allure.

And now for this year's addendum.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975). Here's a real poser, try providing a synopsis of this movie. Suffice it to say everyone should see it at least once. Many have seen it dozens and dozens of times. The ultimate cult classic. Tim Curry as...whatever he is, steals the show So what is it? Why it's....

It's just a jump to the left.

And then a step to the right.
With your hand on your hips.
You bring your knees in tight.
But it's the pelvic thrust.
They really drive you insane.
Let's do the Time Warp again.
Let's do the Time Warp again.

Poltergeist (1982). I watched it again this weekend for the first time science it first hit theaters (thanks TCM). I'm pleased to say it holds up pretty well. By no means a classic but it does tap into some very real fears: loss of a child; not safe in your own home; unseen forces at work and goblins in your TV set of all places. It's also a cautionary tale about building tract houses over graveyards.

The Invisible Man (1933). I love this movie. The feature film debut of the great Claude Rains (photo above) and what a debut it was. He's a cackling but diabolical mad scientist who's gone and got himself invisible (don't you just hate when that happens?). He checks into a typical English country tavern to try to sort things out and the next thing you know Una O'Connor is screeching left and right. Another horror classic from my man James Whale.

Carrie (1976). The granddaddy of all oh-my-God-I-totally-didn't-see-that-coming-I-thought-all-the-scariness-was-over movies -- to coin a phrase. Brian DePalma directed, Sissy Spacek stars in this story of a teen with telekinetic powers This is not someone you want to p*ss off and wouldn't you know, pretty much all of her classmates conspire to humiliate her, and at the prom no less. Hell hath no fury like a girl with telekinesis scorned.

The Mummy (1932). Our old friend Karloff again, this time he's all wrapped up in his work (pause while readers roll on the floor emitting gales of laughter). For God's sakes folks don't waste your time with any of those silly Brendan Fraser mummy movies of recent vintage, you want this classic. British explorers discover an old Egyptian tomb and let loose a killer mummy. This was an easy sell for audiences back in its time because of the supposed curse on discoverers (disturbers) of King Tut's tomb. Karloff is wonderful as is a supporting cast that's mostly unfamiliar to today's viewers.

Nosferatu (1922). Today silly vampire movies are a dime a dozen. We've even had silly vampire TV shows with equally silly slayers of said vampires. It's being done -- you should excuse the expression -- to death. But here we have the original, preceding even Lugosi's blood loving count by nearly a decade. Moreover it comes from legendary German director F.W. Murnau. I'll not say more about it now because I'm going to screen Nosferatu in a day or so and do a separate post on it soon.

A few of other titles to consider: Aliens (1986), Bud Abbott Lou Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), The Blob (1958), The Blair Witch Project (1999), Tremors (1990), The Wolf Man (1941), The Haunting (1963).

What a Great Start! My Favorite Opening Movie Scenes (Part Three)

This is the third in final installment of a three part look at my favorite opening scenes. For a fuller explanation as to what I'm on about see the introduction in part one. Also to see the my previous selections check out that post and part two. Without any further folderol, here's four more favorite opening film scenes.

Touch of Evil (1958). Not much need be said when you can just view the above clip. However.... Note how the first frame is of a time bomb. We know good and well its going to go off at some point, but director Orson Welles is going to draw it out a bit and his doing so makes for great cinema. The bomb is planted in a car. Then the camera pans up and away as we watch that car drive off, quickly losing sight of the car but only for a moment. It's one long unbroken shot for the first three and half minutes. Our focus eventually is draw nto a happy couple strolling through the streets, the car sometimes in sight, sometimes not. At a border crossing we meet the couple -- just married, and also the driver and passenger in the ill fated car. Our honeymooners enjoy a kiss then: boom! The bomb finally goes off. It's a remarkable scene for a number of reasons not the least of which is that we learn so much in those three minutes. Just the short conversation at the crossing tells us that the man is an important cop who's made a major bust but one that is only part of a broader criminal enterprise. We're also curious about the who and why of the bomb and any possible connection to the couple. We've also got a very strong flavor for the film's setting. Talking about whetting your appetite.

Sunset Blvd. (1950). Sunset Blvd. was directed by the great Billy Wilder and has a permanent place in my top ten. It starts strong and never lets up. It begins, for crying out loud, with a guy floating in a swimming pool -- face down. Fair enough but he's also providing a voice over narration. The pool is surrounded by cops, some of whom are trying to fish the body of the water. We actually look up from the bottom of the pool at the man. See that he's wearing a suit and looks to be in this thirties maybe. Probably a handsome fellow. The narration is detached, almost amused. There's a hint of cynicism in his voice. But it's a likable tone too. Here's what the guy says: Yes, this is Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, California. It's about five o'clock in the morning. That's the Homicide Squad - complete with detectives and newspapermen. A murder has been reported from one of those great big houses in the ten thousand block. You'll read about it in the late editions, I'm sure. You'll get it over your radio and see it on television because an old-time star is involved - one of the biggest. But before you hear it all distorted and blown out of proportion, before those Hollywood columnists get their hands on it, maybe you'd like to hear the facts, the whole truth. If so, you've come to the right party. You see, the body of a young man was found floating in the pool of her mansion - with two shots in his back and one in his stomach. Nobody important, really. Just a movie writer with a couple of 'B' pictures to his credit. The poor dope! He always wanted a pool. Well, in the end, he got himself a pool - only the price turned out to be a little high.

I defy you to find a sane, mature person who could watch that opening scene for the first time and in turn not be interested in seeing the rest of the film . Impossible.

A Clockwork Orange (1971). Simple enough. Just four guys sitting in the Korova Milkbar drinking beverages designed to set you up for some ultra violence....Say what? Okay maybe simple isn't the right word. Director Stanley Kubrick could create some bizarre yet fascinating scenes. Wild set designs, exotic music choices, very mannered characters. He out did himself in this, the best of his films, and the opening gets us right in the mood and let's us now what we're in for -- or confuses the hell out of us. Either way, we're in for more. The four young men are wearing eccentric outfits that include large codpieces. Narration is being provided by one who gives us the Kubrick stare. Head lowered a bit, at an angle and boring a hole right through us. He's speaking English but there's some words mixed in that are most unfamiliar. What is this all about? Who is this strangely captivating and yet frightening Alex fellow and his, as he puts it, three droogs? What is that they're drinking? What the hell kind of place are they in? And what can we expect in this movie? Answer: anything. It's a weird and wonderful trip, not quite like anything before or for that matter since and this strange opening has us if not quite ready, forewarned.

Monkey Business (1931). Leave it to me to close out with a real odd ball choice. But this might be the best opening to any of the Marx Brothers' films. From afar we see a luxury liner at sea. Then quickly to the captain aboard deck who is approached by the pursuer who informs him there are four stowaways on board. "How do you know there are four?" the captain asks. Because he is told, they've been singing Sweet Adeline. Besides, it's added, they've been writing insulting notes. Then we go to the hold of the ship where we see four barrels from which we hear the strains of, you guessed it, Sweet Adeline, quite off key. The camera pans in on the barrels which are labeled, "kippered herring." When the song mercifully ends, from each barrel emerges a Marx Brother to take a bow. They then, quite naturally break into some of their usual hilarious banter. The movie is set up, the brothers introduced and the chuckles have been begun in earnest. Perfect.