Touches of Evil, Interesting Villians

Loathsome.

Awful people who you want to see vanquished, killed, put in their place, exposed, got rid of, reformed, defeated or just given their comeuppance.

Thankfully films are full of them. Sadly the vast majority are veritable cardboard cutouts. Sneering Simon Lagrees or moustache twirling Captain Hooks. Not really odious at all. The truly frightening or sickening ones feel quite genuine. They either recall actual people we have known or who are infamous enough for us to have heard of. Or there's something in them that strikes a chord. A chord of doom, disaster or dastardly diabolical deeds.

What makes a vivid film character, whether good or evil, is the same thing that makes  for a good movie -- truth. Art is best when it is shining a light on the reality of our existence. The truth is that evil, however we choose to define it, lurks everywhere. There are small doses of it in everyone. By infusing characters with a more evident evil, we can understand better that which we have experienced or even, perhaps, felt within ourselves.

I've been blogging frequently enough these past three years that I've actually already written a post on some of film's best villains. Indeed I followed up with another post focusing on evil women. Suffice it to say there are plenty more worth looking at, which this writing I hope will prove.

Bishop Edvard Vergerus as portrayed by Jan Malmjso in Fanny and Alexander (1982). Worse step father ever. Strictness squared. We come to love the title characters of the film. They are two children who excel at just being kids. Exploring, laughing, discovering and playing. Then their widowed Ma marries this repressive oppressive man of the cloth. He specializes in stifling imagination and meting out punishment.
Hans Landa as portrayed by Christoph Waltz in Inglourious Basterds (2009). Nazis were some of the worst creatures to walk the Earth but they've been a positive boon to films. They're ready made villains. The evil Nazi has been a film staple since before the second world war even started. Remarkably, Waltz was able to bring the arch type to a whole new level. He was charming, intelligent -- spoke four languages -- and other than the uniform, a handsome bloke. That sort of skill set in the service of evil is particularly frightening.
Anton Chigurh as portrayed by Javier Bardem in No Country For Old Men (2007). Glory be to first Cormac McCarthy and then to the Coen Brothers that they didn't kill him off. Chirgurh is ever so much more interesting still out there. He is also destined to be an iconic character for generations to come. What the deuce is he? A relentless, merciless and uncompromising killing machine for one. A killer with his own peculiar moral code who cannot be bargained with. He's like a great white shark: equally fascinating and frightening.

Hans Beckert as portrayed by Peter Lorre in M (1931). Like many of those who commit heinous acts, Beckart is pitiful. It doesn't serve to make him any less awful, just adds creepiness to the package. This is as bad a package as exists, someone who preys on little girls. An able bodied adult would have nothing to fear from Beckert, but it is our children he makes us fear for.
Done Lope de Agurirre as portrayed by Klaus Kinski in Agurirre: The Wrath of God (1972). A little megalomania brings out the worst in anyone. Kinski's Aguirre is utterly mad with evil. His lust for gold and power and his willingness to sacrifice others in the pursuit of it, make Aguirre deserving of the fate that ultimately befalls him.
Dan Logan as portrayed by Ben Kingsley in Sexy Beast (2000). This is the same guy who played Ghandi, for crying out loud. It's a striking performance because it verges on being over the top. As a lesser actor would have made a meal of it. Sir Ben's Logan is one scary m*therf*cker and his raw anger and eccentric persistence is a personification of evil.
Marcus Licinius Crassus as portrayed by Laurence Olivier in Spartacus (1960). He may have plied his trade in Ancient Rome, but this is a textbook power mad dictator the likes of which still walk the Earth. He rules his people ruthlessly and cruelly. And Antoninus unhesitatingly exploits anyone at his disposal. For him, this is virtually everyone. Olivier gives the character dollops of rage to go with an articulate and even philosophical evil man.

Hank Quinlan as portrayed by Orson Welles in Touch of Evil (1958). The corrupt cop. There is very little in this world as distasteful. And my goodness Quinlan, the fat mumbling slob, is as noxious as they come. Welles the actor was surpassed only by Welles the director in this film.
Senator Ralph Owen Brewster as portrayed by Alan Alda in The Aviator (2004). There's one moment alone in The Aviator that qualifies Alda's Brewster for this list. Knowing that Howard Hughes, who he's about to have a business lunch with, is germophobic, he methodically places a large finger print on Hughes's drinking glass. What a rat. Brewster is of course based on the real Senator of the same name. He is portrayed as being in the pocket of a major corporation. Now I ask you, who ever heard of such a thing?
Judah Rosenthal as portrayed by Martin Landua in Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989). One of the worst things about Rosenthal is that he suffers no consequence for his actions. Indeed at the end of the film he is still a happily married wealthy and highly respected member of his community. With a clear conscience no less. He's the kind of evil who really commits only one horrible act (okay, two if you count the infidelity) and is otherwise clean as a whistle. Director/writer Woody Allen asks: How many of us are capable of the same? Chilling.

So You Want to Start Watching Westerns, 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 the second was an intro to screwball comedies and in the third I introduced films of the 1970s.

Howdy Pardner. Y'all new to this here genre? No need to saddle up or tote your shootin iron, just mosey on over to yer Netflix queue or rustle up a DVD from the local livery stable or saloon.

Westerns, as the following list will help prove, span the entire history of cinema. Like any other genre there are within it classics, stinkers and the utterly average. A Western is generally agreed to be a story set in the area that constitutes the present day U.S. Usually from west of the Appalachians to east of the Sierra Nevadas. Sometimes spilling south into Mexico and north into Canada. The time period depicted is usually between Lewis & Clark (1806) and the end of WWI (1918), though most are in the post Civil War pre 20th century period.

Because there are a seemingly infinite number of Westerns that have basic stories of good guys and bad guys that are plainly told, the Western has gotten a bad rap with many snooty types like yours truly. Except yours truly appreciates movies of all stripes so long as they're good -- and boy howdy they's some Westerns that are doozies.

Westerns make for good cinema in large part because a director can paint his story across a grand canvass. Most good Westerns embody some aspects of the great length and breadth that was the America West of bygone times. While the wildness of the wild west has been greatly exaggerated, there was a fair amount of colorful outlaws (colorful so long as you didn't cross their paths) and heroic figures. And the west really did feature all manner of what we call characters. Odd, quirky, "touched" and sadistic. There was also the added element of the Native tribes who, as you may well know, where there first. For the most part they were done dirty in Westerns for the first 70 or so years of films. Stereotypical "ugh" spouting savages were convenient villains and foils. There has been a corrective to that over the years and depicting Native tribes in a more sympathetic light has added dimension to their stories and thus to the genre. Truly, the West is a setting that practically begs for myth making.

I set myself the ridiculous challenge of coming up with a starter set of only ten. I failed. Here are 12 films to wet your appetite. This is not a compilation of the greatest Westerns ever made nor a list of my favorites. This is designed to give the novice a broad sample of what's out there. I've attempted to  spread the choices out to represent various time periods in film (over 100 years) with a variety of directors and stars. This meant the inclusion of only two John Ford films on the list. He was the grand master of the genre. John Wayne also makes only two appearances.

I list plenty of other choices at the conclusion of this writing.

The Great Train Robbery (1903). Why not start at the beginning with a western made when the west was still wild? It was innovative, influential but only 12 minutes long. Still a fun film, not to mention a relic from the past.

The Big Trail (1930). A fairly early talkie and a much neglected film that finally was masterfully restored on DVD three years ago. Raoul Walsh directed this epic story of a wagon train on the Oregon Trail. It is replete with the requisite good guys, bad guys and romance. It was shot in wide screen well ahead of its time. This is a great Western to start with, containing, as it does, all the classic elements, including John Wayne.

Stagecoach (1939). The film that brought the Western back into fashion and helped revolutionize film making in the process. Orson Welles watched it repeatedly as he prepared to make a little film called Citizen Kane (1941). Ford masterfully contrasts the claustrophobic interiors of the stagecoach and other dwellings, with the wide open spaces.

The Westerner (1940). Yup, Even William Wyler directed a Western. Course it didn't hurt none that he had Gary Cooper and Walter Brennan in the cast, two old and future hands at Cow Poke stories. This is the best of the many cinematic tellings of the story of Jude Roy Bean, with Brennan playing the ole cuss.

Westward the Women (1951). Women as western heroes? Yup. From director William Wellman comes the story about a wagon train of women and one fella (Robert Taylor) making their way west to marry up with some lonely settlers. It's chock full of adventure and human drama. Also features fine performances from a relatively anonymous cast, Taylor aside. If you ain't a seen it, do so, pronto.

The Naked Spur (1953). James Stewart as you've never seen him before. Or rarely anyway. He's one tough, borderline mean hombre, pushed by desperation to extrememe measures. Robert Ryan is the real bad guy here (there's someone who could really play mean) and Stewart wants to bring him in for the reward. He just might get the scrumptious Janet Leigh as a boobie prize (watch it!)

The Searchers (1956). Is this the best Western ever made or is Stagecoach? I'll call it a toss up. John Ford directed both. This is a beautifully told story with many layers. And it includes Wayne's best performance. For more on this masterpiece, see this post of mine from two years ago.

Ride the High Country (1962). Joel McCrea and Randolph Scott were veterans of Westerns when they co-starred in this Sam Peckinpah directed film. It seems at first a rescue story (Mariette Hartley is the damsel in distress) but turns into a morality tale. Gorgeous scenery and two leads at the essentially finishing their careers playing men finishing their careers.

Once Upon a Time in the West (1968). Will wonders never cease, Henry Fonda playing a low down dirty snake of a bad guy. In a spagehetti western no less. The director was Sergio Leone who was a master of the Pasta Oater. Fonda was an actor first and so had no trouble convincing audiences he was a rat. Charles Bronson is the hero.

McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971). Yes there's even a Western film with 1970's cinema sensibilities and it was directed by the iconclastic Robert Altman and starred, of all people, Warren Beatty. I told you that Westerns come in all shapes and sizes. Beatty is the McCabe of the title and the delicious Julie Christie is Mrs. Miller. At the very least its an intersesting Western and to many its superb film making.

Dances With Wolves (1990). If it hadn't gone an beaten out the vastly superior Goodfellas for the best picture Oscar, this sprawling Western from Kevin Costner wouldn't suffer the bad rap that plagues it today. It's got action, romance, wide vistas and the "Indians" as good guys. I unashamedly showed it as part of my US History curriculum for the zillion years I taught and the young us loved it. So did I.

True Grit (2010). Hokey smokes even the Coen Brothers made a Western.  And by gum they did a bang up job. It's a classic revenge story. Jeff Bridges is an ideal old west crumudgeon lawman and Haillee Steinfeld adds a twist as the super precocious teen seeking justice for Pa's murder. They didn't make Westerns like they used to it, until of all people, the Coens came along. Let's hope it brings the genre roaring back.

Lookey here for what other Westerns are worth a look or 12. Red River (1948), Shane (1953), Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969), The Wild Bunch (1969), Little Big Man (1970), The Iron Horse (1924), The Good the Bad and the Ugly (1966), The Man From Laramie (1955), The Ox Bow Incident (1943), My Darling Clementine (1946), The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962), Dodge City (1939), Destry Rides Again (1939), Winchester 73 (1950),  Unforgiven (1992), High Noon (1952), Fort Apache (1948),The Long Riders (1980) and a bunch of others that I'm sure I'll catch hell for leavin' out.

I Go A Long Way to Say Nice Things About Three Films: La Strada, Groundhog Day and No Country For Old Men

Truthfully I don't find much of a difference between movies and "real life." Particularly inasmuch as films are so integral to my understanding of the world.

Many of the films I like the best help inform my understanding of the universe. They can serve as a prism through which I view the world or as window or better still a way to feel about the world.

I'm growing increasingly impatient with films that waste my time. Of course being particularly careful about what I watch helps, but still there's always an occasional stinker that I sit through quite by mistake.

A bad movie is like some interloper who strikes up a conversation with you while you could be reading a really good book.

Regular readers of this blog (both of us) know that I've been contemplating death a great deal these days. The passing of one my very best friends (a previously healthy athletic person two years my junior) a few weeks ago has had a lot to do with this. But so too has been my obsession these past few months with the films of Ingmar Bergman and Woody Allen. Whether Bergman's Cries and Whispers (1972) or Allen's Love and Death (1975), the topic of human mortality is ever present in their work. As I've previously stated, this is in large part because their film's are great celebrations of life and ergo must dwell upon the opposite.

This has  been a cathartic experience for me and allowed for full recognition and acceptance of the fact that some day I will cease to be too. It's a relief. There's no use getting all depressed about it either. If one wants to feel miserable there's plenty going on among the living to do the job. Humans have thus far show no signs of evolving anywhere near a point where violence is not part and parcel to many of our cultures. That however is a subject for another time.

I've been fortunate enough recently to spend some time with some remarkable films. I've wanted to write about the last three that I've watched, but as I sit in front of a keyboard, or a pad of paper the proper words have eluded me. Mind you I've had plenty to say, but it's all been a lot of adjectives about acting, directing, scripts cinematography and the like.

The truth is I've felt it inadequate to go prattling on about how great something is. There are some really fun blogs that do nothing but extoll the virtues of various stars, directors or genres. Lots of lists, glowing adjectives and photos. This blog has frequently done the same.

But here's the deal: I've realized that far from anything being wrong with it, these are perfectly delightful blogs or blog posts to spend time with. We need not always take a critical eye to those things we enjoy. It's fine sometimes to just lead the applause.

But, you should excuse the expression, that's not where my head has been at recently. I have sought profundity, wisdom and insight. I've only wanted to share truths and stir thoughts. You see, I've gotten rather full of myself.

I hate pretense in others so I shouldn't have a bit of it from myself. Instead let me just rave about those three films I've watched this past week.

First there was La Strada (1954) the film that put Federico Fellini on the proverbial map, at least in terms of the US of A. Anthony Quinn and Giulietta Masina are transcendent as a traveling strongman and his abused assistant. Ms. Masina (the director's wife, by the by) could not be more endearing as the impish, clownish girl who is literally sold to the strongman.

I find La Strada an extremely difficult film to write about. (You have no idea how long it took to come up with the preceding sentence.) For one thing it can initially seem quite depressing.  There is a killing (however unintentional), a consequent mental breakdown. A parting of the ways and the discovery of our heroine's death by the grief stricken strong man. Yet this is an oddly uplifting film.

Perhaps it is simply a case of it being such robust film making. This is a much sparer film then future Fellini classics such as La Dolce Vita (1960). At least in terms of characters. It is at its heart as its title implies a road picture. The road of life maybe. Perhaps a look at destiny.

The real point may be that this is picture to appreciate for its richly drawn characters and their experiences and best of all the way their story is told. There are any number of indelible scenes. The circus, the spaghetti dinner, the high wire act, the night in the nunnery.

Okay, I still don't know what to say about La Strada. Except I love it. There, I said it!

Is the second film a contemplation of hell or of redemption?

Is it an amusing comedy or one of the deepest contemplations of the human condition ever filmed?

It is Groundhog Day (1993) and I submit that the answer to the above questions is: both. Surely you know the story. For one man the same day keeps repeating itself and he is the only person aware of it.

The man is Phil Connors (Bill Murray) a conceited, cynical, inconsiderate TV weatherman from Pittsburgh assigned to cover the Groundhog Day festivities in Punxsutawney where a groundhog is called upon every second of February to forecast how much Winter is remaining. Phil is not the sort to do quaint or kitschy, he aspires to a network gig. There's a new producer, Rita (Andie MacDowell) along for the trip along with dopey cameraman (Chris Elliot).

Phil goes to bed at the end of a frustrating day in which a storm has kept him trapped in town. He wakes up the next morning to find that it's not the next morning but the previous one. This happens again, and again and again and again and again for what director Harold Ramis has said is ten years worth of February the 2nds.

It remains a brilliant idea for a film because it is so open to interpretation. I watched it on, of all days, Groundhog Day. It got me thinking about how I would use the blessing/curse of repeating a day. For one thing I'd become fluent in French and for another I'd read all the great works of literature that I've still not gotten around to. But of course the film at it's heart is a study of how we choose to live our lives and interact with those around us. And how rare it is to get a second, let alone a 1,000th chance. Connors finally learns to embrace life and make the most of himself and be honest and loving. What a wonderful message.

We close with No Country For Old Men (2007) one of that tiny, tiny percentage of films that I believe is worthy of the tile masterpiece. The Coen Brothers made as close to perfect a film as possible, right down to and including the ending that had so many yokels saying: "huh?" It was no the nice tidy wrap up that most people want from a movie. It concluded exactly as did Cormac McCarthy's book of the same name that it was so faithfully adopted from.

It is a great gift indeed when a film allows us to decide that nagging question: then what? Besides a pat ending would have ruined the opportunity the NCFOM provides to wonder. Just who or what was Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem)? Why the car accident? Was he meant to symbolize the grim reaper? Why the code of killing he lived by? Why did he so scrupulously avoid blood?

NCFOM is powerful meditation on death. (And is it not interesting that the two main characters who die do so off camera?) It is fascinating to watch the manner in which Chigurh dispenses it and also note how Kelly MacDonald's and Woody Harrelson's characters face the inevitable.

But what came through most clearly for me with my latest viewing was Sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones). He has such a sad (and yet sometimes funny) wisdom about the world expressed eloquently (verbatim from the novel) at the beginning and end of the story and a few parts in between. He is involved in no acts of violence but sees its sad aftermath and is left to contemplate it. He makes two references to other heinous crimes. Like many of us Ed Tom can make no sense of this sad aspect of human behavior. Of one crime he says that you could not make such stuff up and "I'd defy you to try."

This is not, in some respects, an easy film to watch. But it is so very rewarding. This is a case of film making aspiring to the power of great literature and actually succeeding. 

Quintuplets, Vengeance, Stuttering, Black Shirts & Murder -- Catching Up With Some of the Films I've Seen Lately

I've recently enjoyed that most treasured of all interludes, time off. Absent travel, the two best ways to occupy such time is with family or films. I've been lucky enough to do both. Details of conversations with nephews, children or others are not likely to interest the general reader, so I'll report instead on some of the films I've seen of late.

Holy Multiple Births! or The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1944). These past three years I've listed this film from Preston Sturges as one of my favorite Christmas movies. Indeed I watch it almost every December. While I'm beginning to re-think Miracle as a Holiday flick, I am hardening my position that it is joy to behold. The real miracle, of course, is that Sturges slipped this by the censors who, in days of yore, cared not for pregnancy, pre-marital sex or women going unpunished for naughty behavior. The prudes! This is not Andy Hardy's small town USA. For one thing some of the characters are, well, real characters. No better example than the father of the bride, Constable Kockenlocker (William Demarest). He's a kick, which is appropriate to say because he's constantly trying to kick one of his daughter's in the fanny and in turn landing on his own. The older daughter Trudy is the blinkered, dizzy but lovable blonde who gets, "in a family way" under circumstances that only Sturges could create. Diana Lynn is an underrated delight as the wise cracking and wise beyond her years 14 year-old kid sister. The hapless wonder in the story is the lovelorn Norval Jones (Eddie Bracken) who'll go to any lengths for his beloved Trudy. Bumbling, stumbling and fumbling all the way, Norval is just a sweetie pie that anyone would root for. Like the other half dozen or so classics Sturges made in a period of under ten years (with nary a thing before or after to boast of) Miracle is witty, silly, improbable and utterly delightful. So maybe while it's not a true Christmas film, it is a true wonder.

The Coen Brothers Go West or True Grit. I think it's safe to assert that, at least in this writer's humble opinion, the title of best working American director is a tie between Joel and Ethan Coen, who conveniently are brothers and work together. In recent years they've offered No Country for Old Men (2007), A Serious Man (2009) and now True Grit. Three films from radically different genres (and if you can figure out the genres of the former two, more power to ya). True Grit is a clearly a western. It's somewhat of a surprise that the Coens would make such a conventional film. It's no surprise that these fine craftsmen would do such a bang up job. This is not a re-make of the 1969 film of the same name which starred John Wayne. It is instead a more faithful telling of the novel of the same name penned by Charles Portis.  (As per custom, the Coens did their own adapting.) I'm not in a position to compare the two films as I never bothered with the first. Still, its impossible to imagine that John Wayne did more with the role of Rooster Cogburn than did Jeff Bridges. I've seen enough of Wayne to state with confidence that he couldn't have matched Bridges' spitting, muttering, cussing and quite obviously stinky interpretation of the lawman. Bridges was a positive wonder to watch. He was clearly having a rollicking good time in the role and inviting us to enjoy the journey with him. Meanwhile newcomer Hailee Steinfeld, a mere 13 years old during filming, is amazing as Mattie Ross. The phrase, she more than held her own, springs immediately to mind. Matt Damon, Josh Brolin and Barry Pepper are also along for the ride and contribute mightily to it. But it is the Coens who should earn the most encomiums. They re-created the proverbial Old West as well if not better than has been done before. If ever a film felt like it existed in the time period and place it depicted, this one did.

How Stuttering Can Be a Royal Pain or The King's Speech. They might as well hand the Best Actor Academy Award to Colin Forth now and dispense with the nominations. I'm not suggesting that he should win or for that matter that he shouldn't, just that he will. He was considered an unofficial runner up to the aforementioned Mr. Bridges last year and he gives a wonderful performance in a prestige film this year. The King's Speech is a classy production all the way. Then again so are those Masterpiece Theater production that PBS shows on Sunday nights. This film had all the emotional heft of one of those stagey-looking productions. One of the problems being the focus on a man's (yes, I know, he was the bloody King of England) speech impediment. For crying out loud this King assumed the throne when his brother abdicated to marry an American divorcée. Then there was the little business of World War II breaking out during his reign. Both these events are treated as sidebars in the story of the stubborn prince-cum-king learning to appreciate and profit from his unconventional tutor (Geoffrey Rush). The King's Speech looked damn nice and flowed along quite well with Firth's performance a real highlight.  But I could have seen the same quality on PBS and saved the $10.

The Two Mrs. Mussolinis or Vincere (2009). Earlier this year this wonderful film from Italy snuck into a few theaters across America and then snuck right back out. Some of us were lucky enough to catch it. Happily it's now available on DVD and can be watched as part of Netflix's Instant program. Do yourself a favor and see it. It is the story of Ida Dasler who was almost certainly a mistress of Italian Dictator Benito Mussolini (before he assumed power) and claimed to be his first wife and mother to his son. Giovanna Mezzogiorno as Dasler gives one of those performances covering many years in the life of a historical figure that leaves one in awe (think Marion Cotillard in La Vie en Rose (2007)). She is lusty, tempestuous, beautiful and utterly mad. We in turn feel much of what she's going through. The first half of the film follows her with Mussolini as he rises from newspaper editor to Il Duce. It is rich, panoramic and blends historical footage with red hot sex and passions of all variety. Then as Mussolini must protect his legitimate relationship and secure his place in history, Ida is frozen of his life. As this is her story, we see no more of him (except in some more archival scenes) and the story slows considerably. It is now about a woman's hopeless efforts to claim the man she loves for her very own. Does she go mad or is this alleged insanity a means of "getting her out of the way?" In either case the focus has changed and some viewers have evidently felt cheated. But it is honest film making and still makes for compelling viewing. If Mezzogiorno isn't enough to hold your attention you weren't paying attention in the first place.

How to Murder Your Mistress or Match Point (2005). I've been on a Woody Allen kick for over a month that shows no signs of abating (can a kick abate?). This was my third viewing of Match Point and it is a classic example of a film that gets ever so much better with each viewing. The little details of "what happens" increasingly seem merely to serve the bigger questions the film asks and the manner in which the story is told. The idea of killing an inconvenient mistress was not new to Allen who'd explored it in Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989). However, Match Point does not presume to explore moral questions. We are simply watching a cold calculating young man, Chris (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) who's principally employed charm and grace to attain all of life's luxuries. If a murder is needed to protect all he's accumulated, so be it. He's results-oriented. Match Point is one of the many Allen films to ask serious questions about its characters and thus of its audience. It also ponders the imponderable role of luck in one's life, another occasional Allen theme. On the surface Match Point is a simple, elegant film about a man's rise and his use of the ultimate crime in the service of his success. But upon repeat viewings we see more subtlety in Chris and how he maneuvers. We also see, in sharper focus, the banality of his wife and her very well-to-do family and infuriating innocence and naiveté of his lover, (Scarlett Johansson). It's impossible to conceive a list of top ten Allen films which omits it.

I Answer the Question: Is it Ever to Early to Talk About Next Year's Oscars? (Hint: YES!!!!)

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According to my calender today is July 2nd. Nonetheless in today's San Francisco Chronicle there is an article by film critic Mick LaSalle about the year in film's so far. Fair enough. But the article also includes numerous sidebars about which films have a chance at receiving an Oscar nomination.

With six months left in the calendar year.

Seven months before the nominations are announced.

Eight months before the awards are presented.

Is is ever to early to discuss the coming year's Oscars? I think the day before the show is too early. Eight months? Gimme a break....

I'm open to any discussion on the state of films over the last few weeks, months, years or any other arbitrary time period you care to introduce. While the fact is that there have been more than enough great films released over the past 100 years to keep me busy for as long as I inhabit this planet, I'm always willing to enjoy another terrific new film.

If new pictures had stop being released a year ago at this time I'd have missed out on Inglourious Basterds and A Serious Man, two of my all time favorites. So as much as it cuts into my valuable time, bring me more.

But please, once and for all can we put an end to this fallacy that the Academy Awards have the slightest thing to do with determining the best achievement in films over the course of a year?

And for God's sakes, we're stuck with enough Oscar hype from November through March, can we at least be spared from it in July?

While I'm badly beating a dead horse (God forbid PETA should find out) let me refer  you to last Tuesday's list on the wonderful website, Listserve. It is titled Top 10 Biggest Travesties of the Oscars. It only really scratches the surface and in fact I did a better job a couple of years ago, but it's worth a look in any case.

I better ask my daughters never to name any of their children, Oscar.

Sometimes You Have to Accept the Mystery of a Movie

Life is almost never episodic. It is less like a TV show and more like a river. It flows.

When a movie does not tack on an ending, when the "story" is not wrapped up in a nice neat package, a lot of people complain. There were howls from many people over the sudden ending of the Coen Brothers' No Country for Old Men (2007). A few more could be heard from their latest film, A Serious Man (2009). Both films concluded somewhat abruptly without resolution, with questions unanswered.

Evidently many movie goers have a hard time with ambiguity. They want their stories to have a "once upon a time" beginning and a "they lived happily ever after" ending. Others of us are happy to be invited to have our brains indulged in a little thinking. I welcome stories that ask me to ponder possibilities.

Film is, after all, art and art at its best encourages us to exercise our intellect. The absence of denouement is but one method. A Serious Man gives us much to ponder while still being fully satisfying at face value.

I recently enjoyed my third viewing of the film. This time I was particularly struck by a very minor character encouraging the main character, Larry Gopnik (Mark Stuhlbarg) to "accept the mystery." He could well have been the voice of the Coens telling the audience that not all this film's riddles need be solved. Indeed maybe they aren't even meant to be.

Larry's life is plagued with a series of Job like troubles. Answers, would be nice. Very nice. He visits three rabbis. The first, the junior rabbi, can do little better than marvel at the parking lot (emphasis his and mine). The second tells Larry the story of dentist who is a mutual acquaintance. The dentist once had a patient, a goy by-the-by, who had a message inscribed in the back of his teeth. The dentist puzzled over both the meaning of the message and its origins, written as it was in Hebrew, in a goy's mouth. Only when the dentist embraced the mystery was he again able to sleep, eat and enjoy life.

Larry was not amused.

The third rabbi, the senior of the synagogue's three, was "too busy thinking" to see Larry. So it goes.

Why is this all happening to Larry? Wife wanting a divorce (didn't see that coming) brother in trouble with the law (who knew?) and the tenure committee deciding Larry's future is receiving scurrilous letters about him (huh?). Oh yes and he's wrecked his car and the Colombia House Record company is on his ass. Wait, I forget about the menacing neighbor who seems to be violating their property line, the student trying to bribe him and the damage his car sustained....

Why do bad things happen to good people? Why aren't there answers to all our questions, or at least the important ones? Why is that as we get older, instead of everything becoming clearer, new mysteries emerge? WHY?

I think many people with strong religious faith (regardless of denomination) would agree that much is to be left unanswered in this life. Yet we continually struggle, if not for answers, for meaning. What about karmic laws? The old what goes around comes around business. We want to make events represent something. There must be a point. Things can't just happen. Can they?

Can and do.

So the Coens gave us this wonderful stew of a film. If you haven't seen A Serious Man you may at this point be picturing something rather bleak. On the contrary it is rich with humor. It has to be, life is rich with humor. A Serious Man succeeds in reveling truths about life while asking if we wouldn't like to contemplate meanings, whys and wherefores. Or not, up to us.

Stuhlbarg's Larry is the perfect protagonist for such a story. He never tries to impose his will on events. No, he's trying to survive and prosper and wants only to understand so that he can navigate events. Understanding is not a philosophical exercise for Larry, it is a survival mechanism. He is, after all, a physics professor. He is, after all, a serious man. It would be a different movie and maybe not so satisfying a movie, if Larry were raging, or ironic or anything other than...a nice guy.

Larry rides the river. Which, as I said, is what life is like.

Some meaning can be enough meaning. A lot of meaning can be faking it.

Okay, Okay, My Top Twenty Films of the Last Decade

I'm yielding to overwhelming and unrelenting pressure (okay a couple of people mentioned it in passing) and publishing a top 20 of my favorite films from the preceding decade. The oughts.

Initially I had balked because I felt there weren't a score of movies worthy of a best decade list. But upon further reflection, there were some excellent efforts, surely enough for a passable top twenty. And indeed this past decade is probably far better than either the 80's or 90's. (Still, this list is in no way comparable to the decade bests from the 1930's and 1970's that I recently published here.)

So here at last are my top 20 films of the oughts.

1. Inglourious Basterds (2009) Tarantino U.S.
2. The Aviator (2004) Scorsese U.S.
3. No Country For Old Men (2007) Coen Brothers U.S.
4. Barbarian Invasions (2003) Arcand French Canada
5. Y Tu Mama Tambien (2001) Cuaron Mexico
6. Zodiac (2007) Fincher U.S.
7. Minority Report (2002) Spielberg U.S.
8. A Serious Man (2009) Coen Brothers U.S.
9. Downfall (2004) Hirschbiegel Germany
10. City of God (2002) Meirelles/Lund Brazil
11. Lives of Others (2006) von Donnersmarck Germany
12. Wonder Boys (2000) Hanson U.S.
13. Gangs of New York (2002) Scorsese U.S.
14. The Man Without a Past (2002) Kaurismaki Finland
15. Vicky Christina Barcelona (2008) Allen U.S.
16. Amores perros (2000) Inarritu Mexico
17. Bamboozled (2000) Lee U.S.
18. Milk (2008) Van Sant U.S.
19. The Class (2008) Cantet France
20. Bad Education (2004) Almodovar Spain

It's Eminently Habitable

I've seen the A Serious Man twice now and can't wait for its DVD release. The above scene is just one small example of its brilliance. Nice to know they still make a great film every now and again. Two this year, counting this and Inglourious Basterds.

Great Filmmaking, It's a Matter of Faith

The great ones don't hold back. They aren't afraid to take chances. They have faith in themselves. That's what distinguishes greatness, a faith in oneself.

I saw it yesterday in my second viewing of A Serious Man. The Coen Brothers did not use a single pretty face. Not one. They had a man endure all manner of misfortune. They had a film steeped in Jewish culture. They had a story within the story that went nowhere. They had a moral retrobate that we felt  for. They had loose ends (isn't life full of them? Loose ends everywhere. So why not in art?). They had a magnificent film because they weren't restrained. They let the story dictate itself. This was not from a script writing template.

Quentin Tarantino did the same thing. Not a shy man, more importantly, not a shy director (read: artist). His Inglourious Basterds just went ahead and changed history. Why not? Actual events are just a plot device anyway. That long unbroken first scene. Who does that? He did and it was cinematic gold. Sticking the David Bowie song in the middle of the film was inspired, just as the Coens did by using a Hendrix tune in the middle of the story about the Jewish dentist. Anyone can do unconventional, not many can make gold out of it.

Fellini could. 8 1/ 2 begins with a guy stuck in traffic, he's suffocating, he floats away... That's just the start of the movie!


Conventionality is good to a degree, but my God you need to break away and dance. You need to look at the world in different ways. Look at it this way. Black and white films, beautiful. But life, you want colors, lots of them. You want variety. That's where art comes in. It forces helps you see the world, your life, your view of the world your view of life, in different ways. Art Inglourious Basterdschanges our focus. It gets our brain ticking and might I add tocking. Like the character, the young rabbi in A Serious Man said: "look at that parking lot!"


It's not so easy to look and think in different ways all the time. Most of us only have the one brain (and that's if we're lucky) so great artists come along and help us see. And in terms of movies I'm not just talking directors or screenwriters, the cinemaphotogpraphers and set designers are crucial too and let's not forget the actors. Marlin Brando, Sean Penn those actors who interpret a character in a different way. Helps us see a person, people maybe, in different ways. Heck, the Marx brothers did that too. (Ya know what Geoffery T. Spaulding in Animal Crackers said the T. stood for? Edgar!).

Lot of people complain about ambiguity in films, especially at the ending. Want the story wrapped up in a pretty little bow. So what, you want it neatly finished to store away and forget about? Come on. How about a movie that lives with you. That leaves questions for you to ponder and answer your own way. Speaking of the Coens, their No Country For Old Men  was brilliant in that regard. Not just who the hell was Anton Chigurh, but what was he? What did he represent? Art isn't a summation, it's an invitation. If its all  there it can be an empty experince. In one ear out the other. But if we have, no GET TO think, to ponder, to wonder. That's beautiful. That's art.


Challenging. Maybe at first resistant to us. We have to try. The more you put in the more you get out. A nice comfy movie can be good every now and again but how cool is it when a film makes some percolation go on in our brains? Hey, to me that's fun stuff. It's the stuff the great ones produce.

Seriously, You Should See This Movie

Okay movie, take me somewhere unexpected. Come on, surprise me. Really, I don't at any time want to know where you're going. I just want to be along for the ride. Please, no formulas, no one dimensional characters. Give me a little depth. And leave me something to think about, to interpret. I'm a big boy, I can be left to decide for myself about the whys and wherefores. In fact, I insist upon it. You don't have to dazzle me with fancy schmancy special effects. I don't want hand held cameras and let's not overdo the odd camera angles. I want a story first and foremost and one that leaves me wanting more, not less.

If that's what you want out of a film I've got just the thing for you. It's the latest from the Coen brothers, A Serious Man. It's a movie that trusts you think for yourself. Hell, it insists upon it.

The cast is relatively unrecognizable, although many of the actors are of the I-know-I've-seen-him-somewhere-before variety. Trust me, the relative anonymity of the cast adds to the film's charm.

A Serious Man centers around one Larry Gopnik (Michael Sthulbarg) who we watch go through a series of episodes that would make Job weep. Wife, job, children, brother, health, money and legal issues all seem to be conspiring to bring this upstanding citizen down. He's really a likable sort. Not adorable, like too many film leads are, but someone who we empathize with and wish not the slightest ill will. He doesn't seem to be asking too much of life, nothing more than he's owed -- isn't that what we all want? Our just rewards? Don't you just hate it, seriously hate it, when the unexpected and undeserved gets in our way? Of course you do.

A young rabbi that Larry visits for counsel gestures out the window of his office and exclaims, "just look at that parking lot!" Of course.

Another rabbi tells a long story. Is there a point? Will it help? I better not say.

The third rabbi, the oldest and wisest is too busy thinking to deal with our friend Larry Gopnik. Oi vey.

Did I tell you Larry is of the Jewish persuasion. You guessed! And no, no, no, no you don't have to be Jewish to appreciate the film, I'm far from, though it may (or may not help).

Our story is set in a Minneapolis suburb in 1967 which is as good a place to set such a story as any, don't you think? You wanted this thriving Jewish community in New York? Been there. Done that. You don't get cliches in A Serious Man. You don't get well trodden ground. All virgin territory. You should trust me on this.

Family. Such a blessing, such a curse. Larry's wife is unhappy with him and has found love in the arms of a long time family friend -- Sy Ableman. Fred Melamed plays Sy and I've got to dig into my adjective bag for him and say he's "fantastic." Not that anyone in the cast is lacking. Sy just shines. Larry has a daughter who just wants to wash her hair and a son who likes dope and F Troop and a brother who...

You know its hard to tell a heckuva lot more detail without getting into areas that viewers should discover for themselves. Suffice it to say you've got the music of the Jefferson Airplane, one randy neighbor and another quite Aryan neighbor (is he frighteningly so? You decide). You've got dental work, of sorts, dream sequences, a desperate Korean college student, physics. You have to have physics. You get a bar mitzvah and marijuana and hey how about if the twain meet? You've also got one of the best closing shots since 400 Blows (1959). You know what you've got here? A seriously good movie.

But, and again I'm totally serious, it's funny too. Not at all in broad way. You're not going to fall out of your chair laughing. Nothing silly. You'll smile a lot though. You'll think a lot too. It's very brave in these days of Transformers and Hulks and Spidermen to make a film that asks the audience to think. The Coens are nothing if not brave. These are serious men, or at least serious film makers.

(What, you're still here, you should go see it already.)