The No Good, The Really Bad and the Butt Ugly -- Movies That (Thank God) Haven't Been Made (So Far)

On a recent trip to Hollywood (I was asked by some bigwigs for advice on a few forthcoming films) I happened upon a box filled with rejected movie proposals. Some of these had actually been in development before being scraped and for each a script had been written. These ideas ranged from the pathetic to the apocalyptic. It's amazing to realize that for all the garbage that comes out of Hollywood, audiences are not subjected to every lame brained notion that comes down the pike.

Here is a sampling of what I found.

The 8th Seal. A sequel to Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal (1957) in which Max von Sydow's character is re-animated. He challenges death to a re-match only this time instead of chess they play chutes and ladders.

Dictionary the Movie. Steven Seagal had already signed on to play the Letter B and Beyonce was reportedly interested in playing U. This was to be an epic length special effect laden extravaganza, perhaps divided into three or four films released each year -- always in time for the holidays.

Catcher in the Rye. This treatment of J.D. Salinger's iconic novel would have starred Zac Efron as Holden Caulfield and featuring Cameron Diaz as a prostitute with a heart of gold. To lure a wider audience there would have been some action scenes in which Caulfield actually caught things while in the rye.

Schindler's List the Musical. Stephen Sondheim had started writing some of the songs for this lighter look at the Holocaust. Instead of killing, the Nazis would have poked their Jewish captives with some good natured jibes.

Benjie H. A biopic of America's 23rd president with Danny DeVito in the title role. Though the film would have spanned Harrison's entire life it would have focused on his presidency, particularly with regards to the McKinley Tariff.

Password, the Movie. Based on the long running and highly popular game show. Password the film would have been on behind-the-scenes look at the production of the show, particularly on the selection of the words used. In a controversial casting decision, Sidney Poitier was to play the show's host Allen Ludden with Rita Moreno as his wife, Betty White.

Streetcar Two, Blanche is Back. Although this was going to be a feature length film it was really a set up for what was hoped would be a long running TV sitcom capitalizing on the popularity of the Tennessee Williams play and the Eliza Kazan film of 1951. Blanche DuBois would return after a short stay in the mental institution a "cured" woman. She'd be back with the Kowalskis and this time her character would "be up to all manner of madcap antics" often helping Stanley with crazy get-rich-quick schemes. A wacky neighbor would also have been introduced into the cast.

Superman Undergoes Analysis. The world's most famous super hero admits that the strain of saving the world and maintaining a dual identity are mentally taxing. Enter Bob Newhart as a helpful psychologist (reprising the role of Dr. Robert Hartley from his long running hit CBS sitcom The Bob Newhart Show). It would be a psychological thriller!

No Country For Old Men Part 2. This follow up to the 2007 Best Picture Winner would have begun with Tommy Lee Jones getting over his latest dream, coming out of retirement and meeting Javier Bardem's Anton Chigurh for a final showdown. Guns a blazin' an obvious conclusion would have been reached and less sophisticated movie goers would have been happy at last.

A series of sequels to Rocky. This totally insane idea was to take Sylvester Stallone Best Picture winning film, Rocky (1976) and create a series of sequels. One of these would even include him fighting against a great Soviet boxer.....wait a second, I'm being told that these films were actually made! Oh my. Next you'll be telling me that they actually made a movie in which Robert Downey Jr. played Sherlock Holmes as an action hero...what?  They did! Jesus wept.

Flaws, Fractures and Forget-About-Its: Problems I Have With Various American Films

It's not easy to make a good film, let alone a great one. So many elements need to come together that rely on so many different people. Acting. Editing. Costumes. Set design. Script. And much, much more. It is thus a credit to the craftsmanship of numerous individuals that we are blessed with so many wonderful movies to enjoy. (Then again there's one helluva lot of garbage out there to be sifted through as well.)

A perfect film is nearly impossible to make. Even some of my most beloved movies have moments in them or aspects to them that make me cringe -- if just for a second. I now look at ten films with different levels of problems attributable to them. Some could have used a little tweaking (the flawed), some needed some patching up (the fractured) and some were dead on arrival (the forgot-about-its). I could cite many dozens of films in each category. Instead I offer ten as a sampling. I'll re-visit this theme in the future.

Strangers on a Train (1951) Flawed. I love this movie. But the drama of the last scene is predicated upon a police officer firing his gun wildly into a crowded area. I just don't buy it. You a actually see this fairly often in films and say what you will about cops, they're generally fairly conscientious about not shooting where a bystander might get struck. A friend once told me the film was ruined for her by what happened after the gun shot, the whole business about the guy crawling under the merry-go-round. Come to find out that was real and that shooting the scene scared  the bejeezus out of director Alfred Hitchcock.

Crash (2004) Forget-about-it. Where to begin? How about with the total implausibility of the story?  The film was set in modern Los Angeles yet people who seemed otherwise reasonable were walking about hurling racist comments as if in Alabama circa 1960. It was as subtle as a crutch that was being used to hit you over the head. I thought Crash would have been a perfectly good made-for-TV movie in 1980 but upon it's release six years ago it seemed laughably out of date and poorly done. Speaking of laughable, it beat out Brokeback Mountain for best picture Oscar. You can't make this stuff up.

A Night at the Opera (1935) Flawed. This is not alone among later Marx Brothers films in that it is constantly interrupted by pure unadulterated schmaltz. It comes in the form of some of the sappiest most nauseating songs ever produced. As in other Marx Brothers films, the chief perpetrator is one Alan Jones -- yuck! From The Cocoanuts (1929) through Duck Soup (1933) the brothers Marx were able to romp through their films uninterrupted by third rate crooners (course you had to endure Harpo's creepy harp solos but that's a topic for another day).  I single out ANATO  instead of other films because it was otherwise so exceptional.

Dr. Strangelove  (1964) Fractured. It's a great satire that is superbly done from start to finish. Except...except for the title character. Peter Sellers simply went over the top and turned the character of Dr. Strangelove into a silly burlesque that badly detracts from an otherwise excellent film. While Sterling Hayden, George C. Scott and Sellers in his other roles, play it straight and let the insanity of the story speak for itself (no fighting in the war room), Sellers as Strangelove is straight up 3 Stooges.

Million Dollar Baby (2004) Forget-about-it. I'll never understand the critical reverence with which this hokum was met. It was a totally unoriginal story that was riddled with cliches. Gee, I wonder if the young woman can ever talk the crotchety old man into being her trainer. She did?! Hey, the old guy has an African American sidekick (Morgan Freeman who won an Oscar for being inoffensive). And there's more to their relationship than meets the eye!!! Then there was the girl's family. I've seen comic book villains that were more believable than this lot. We're supposed to believe that anyone's family is this callous and stupid? A beautifully shot film. A terrible script.

It's A Wonderful Life (1946) Flawed. One of my favorite films of all time but come on George Bailey, you can't figure out you're in a world in which you don't exist? How many frickin' clues do you need? The drama has built and built and then flat lines as we wait for George to figure it out. And wait. And wait.

Spartacus (1960) Flawed. Another all time favorite. It shows how many different elements must come together for a film to succeed. In the case of Spartacus everything works fine except for the score. They used the music from a Douglas Sirk melodrama in telling this epic tale of a slave rebellion. My guess is the studio imposed this on director Stanley Kubrick which is one of the reasons he thereafter sought complete control of his pictures.

Casino (1995) Fractured. Simply put, too much Sharon Stone. Stone is not only essential to the film but excellent in it. The one film in which she truly shines. But director Martin Scorsese over did her role thus turning her relationship with Robert De Niro into a soap opera. Anytime you're watching a film and are tempted to fast forward through some scenes, it's a bad sign.

The Lady from Shanghai (1947) Fractured. Worst dubbing ever. I strongly suspect that there exists within The Lady From Shanghai a film that I would greatly admire. But the dubbing is so poorly done as to be at times a major distraction that totally takes me out of the moment. Director Federico Fellini and Welles himself in other films successfully dubbed in dialogue. It was most unsuccessful in this instance.

Penny Serenade (1941) Forget-about-it. I can't believe I stayed awake. It's hard to imagine a movie starring Cary Grant and Irene Dunne being boring. This is. It's hard to imagine a George Stevens film being boring. This is. Worse of all it is a painfully slow, depressing movie that goes nowhere -- slowly. Did I mention it's slow?

This Post is Not as Much About Shutter Island as it is About How We Watch Movies

It should have been obvious. If a person (in this case me) goes to see a movie a second time on the pretense of making up his or her mind about said film, that individual must like it. The movie, I mean.

I was not being honest with myself or you my vast legion of readers (hello Courtney B. in Arkon, Ohio) when I rambled on in two recent posts about needing to see Shutter Island  a second time to clear up my confusion regarding, of all things,  what I thought of it.

I mean what idiot goes to see a movie in the theaters twice in two weeks at today's ticket prices if he (or she) has any ambiguity in the "did you like it or not" area? Not this idiot.

But I was desperately curious about how a second viewing on the big screen would sit with me. As mentioned in a previous post I felt influenced by having read Dennis Lehane's novel upon which Shutter Island is quite faithfully based. I also had interference in the form of a lot going on in my life, plus there'd been a zillion reviews of the film which taken together fell into the category of "mixed."

Here's the thing, once you see a movie that has a profound effect on you, it's part of what's going on your life. Shutter Island jumped right into my brain sharing space with studying for my Second Language Acquisition class final, falling behind in my French class (tres stresse !) and other cares, woes, concerns and preoccupations. I don't know about the rest of you (of Clive N. in Leeds U.K. I have my doubts) but it can get pretty crowded in my brain. Compartmentalizing is not always so easy. You've got general stress, or elation or depression or ambiguity going on, and a movie can be a distraction or it can mix right in. And don't think you can watch a film without the filter of what's happening in the "real world" (I hate that place!).

You see movies through a prism.

Imagine watching a film with a blank slate. Okay you didn't read the book it's based on. You haven't read or seen any reviews. Your mood is just fine. Nothing much on your mind. Something is going to tap into your biases, prior knowledge or maybe even your  metacognition, for crying out loud. We've all got an affective filter going.

The lighting of a scene. The soundtrack. The actor's accent. A violent act or a kiss. We react, we relate we contemplate. Ever notice how differently people from similar backgrounds can view the same film? And I'm talking about people who all love it.

The editing! The use of metaphors! The realism! The acting! The movement of the camera in that one scene.... Because everything we see is caressed or slapped or nudged by our world view

I'm going to let you in on something -- we're all different. Very different. Its remarkable any of us get along at all. One thing that's different about all of us is that we look at the same blessed thing and see something else. Problem is that some people are afraid to like or not like certain things in our culture because of good old peer pressure. That's a powerful fear and though most prominent among teens it can strike any of us. Bravo to those brave souls who say what they like and dislike without reservation.

So I maybe wasn't quite so preoccupied my second time seeing Shutter Island. Plus I knew where the story was going, no surprises to deal with. (That's a whole other topic, how surprises in a movie can be wonderful or distracting or not really a surprise at all.) It's always with the second viewing of a film that I can really determine how much I like it because I'm not having to worry about what happens and can focus on how it happens and how it makes me feel. Sometimes that second viewing causes me to realize that the movie was just about "what" and how it was told wasn't that interesting. Other times I see it again and like it even more because of how wonderfully the story was revealed. The same phenomenon is true of songs.

If not properly done Shutter Island could have been a classic one-and-done film because of what I must assume is a very surprising twist at the end to people who haven't read the book. Thus if this story was merely adequately told people would be satisfied with one viewing but feel no desire to re-visit it. But Shutter Island is a Martin Scorsese film and whether you like this particular one or not you know you he's grand storyteller.

The other night when wife and a child were watching a network TV drama I was struck by how facile the series is and worse how intellectually dishonest it comes off. It's a bunch of actors in a made up story acting out emotions. It was as real as to me as The Flintstones.

Scorsese is nothing if not a brutally honest director. His films don't involve pretense. The story feels real, immediate, without artifice. (William Wellman and John Ford were the same sort of directors.) While, for example, Shutter Island has shades of gothic horror to it, it's every bit believable and not a single punch is pulled. Scorsese draws magnificent performances from actors and it never hurts that he's able to lure the creme de la creme from the profession. Hell, in Shutter Island Patricia Clarkson showed up for a small role

Here's another sub topic. Famous or familiar actors. You see an actor in a film and your mind steps out of the movie for a second to say: "hey look, it's Max Van Sydow!" Or even more distracting, "who's that actor, I've seen him somewhere before."  If the performance is strong enough, such mental interruptions are short lived.

Leonardo DiCaprio is in every scene of Shutter Island. That's a helluva responsibility to put on one bloke in a two hour 18 minute film. He's excellent. After the nonsense that was Titanic it was difficult to imagine Leo becoming one of our better actors. But he is.

I feel the urge to summarize now but will fight that urge to my last breath. Hot or cold I've said what was on my mind about the experience of seeing a movie.  I leave much more yet to be said but have tried your patience quite enough (thanks for hanging with me, Didrik N. of Oslo, Norway). Suffice to say, more in the future.

But, what you ask, of Shutter island? What did your second viewing tell you about the film? Fair enough questions so here's my answer: I liked it!

Hey Everybody! I'm Part of a the Nattering Gaggle!

New York Times film critic A.O. Scott has an article in the Arts and Leisure section of today's paper about the slow demise of newspaper film criticism. I was reading said piece with much sympathy and agreement when I came upon this: "Where once reason debate and knowledgeable evaluation flourished, there are now social networking and marketing algorithms and a nattering gaggle of bloggers." (Emphasis mine.)

Hey! I thought. That's me!

One of the sins I'm frequently accused of (and arguably am guilty of ) is that when it comes to films I'm somewhat of a snob ("somewhat?"). But never have I penned anything so high brow as what Old Man Scott is guilty of.

That print edition film criticism is dying off is, cinematically speaking, a tragedy. But that on line Joe Schmoes like yours truly are flourishing is nothing to get all high hat about. Many amateur film bloggers undoubtedly possess the brains of gnats. But the same can be said of many member of the United States Congress and virtually everyone on Fox News. There are also many film bloggers who can string together words to form coherent sentences and have reasonably intelligent things to say about films. Indeed I've read some film blog posts that far surpass the "natterings" of  many print critics.

So there!

There's not a lot worse than the hoi polloi screaming and moaning about higher ups when they don't know what the deuce they're talking about (see the Tea Partiers). But one thing is as bad is when hoity toity crowds slings mud down at us plebes.  Lay off, Scottie. You've got a job writing about films at a decent enough newspaper and no doubt make a decent living at it.

Us members of the nattering gaggle perform a most valuable service indeed. When the latest blockbuster from big name director with big name stars hit the screens we are another voice with another perspective tossing in our two cents. But more importantly we're the ones renting DVDs and watching Turner Classic Movies and re-watching favorite classics and reminding the world of what a great actress Garbo was or how many terrific films Guy Kibbee was in or turning each other on to a relatively obscure French film, or Italian director or forgotten performance by Trevor Howard. (And we often do it without resorting to run on sentences like that last one.)

We alert fellow cinephiles to what's coming out on DVD and what's coming up on TCM. We recount the great films of an era, an actor or of a genre. We find  and post great photos of great starts. We share and share alike. We are community of people who love films and don't get a nickel for our troubles but don't care because like I said at the beginning of this sentence we love films.

I admire and revere the great and well known film critics of past and present but I can no longer imagine a world without the nattering gaggle of film bloggers of which I am a very proud member.

Suck on it, Scott!

I Go All Anton Chigurh on Netflix and It's Movie Moods

With the recent tragic demise of my local video rental store (Videots) I have had to turn to Netflix for my DVD rental needs. Other than the fact that I am feeding another corporate whale and one that that helped swallow the minnow that was Videots, I am pleased with them.

I've already taken advantage of their "instant" service that allows one to watch some movies online at no extra cost. Netflix also has the advantage of being able to offer "everything" that is available on DVD.  So while I miss the chumminess that Videots provided (free pop corn while you browsed!) Netflix, for greedy capitalist swine, is pretty sweet.

But today I was amused to come across their request that I  provide my "Taste Preferences."  This of course, will help them provide me with better recommendations. One sub category was "Moods." Users are asked to indicate whether they watch the designated moods "Often" "Never" or "Sometimes."

I notice they provide examples to explain what each "mood" refers to. But I'd rather guess. For example "Cerebral." This must refer to high brow films for snobs like me who like to *gasp* be left with something to think about. My guess is that they're referring to Bergman films like The Seventh Seal (1957). Indeed I'm sure that a lot of foreign films would fit into this category. Let's see (this is in real time!) some of what they give as an examples. What's this? Annie Hall (1977), The Hours (2002) and The Royal Tenenbaums (2001). Yeah, I suppose. It just points to how silly a category this is. Any half way decent movie is at one level or another "cerebral."

Here's another one: "Gritty." I'm guessing these are realistic action films with a sober story to tell, like The French Connection. How about True Grit? It's got grit in the title! No? Let's see what Netflix says: I was right! The French Connection (1971) along with No Country for Old Men (2007) and Taxi Driver (1976). Wow, great films. Give me the grit.

Here's an easy one: "Family-Friendly." This means no cussing, no violence and no s-e-x.  Stuff for the kids! Like Dumbo (1941)! Racially offensive but who ever said racism wasn't family friendly? Netflix gives these examples: The Sound of Music (1965), The The Incredibles (2004) and High School Musical (2006). I'll steer clear of this category. The only family High School Musical is friendly to is a family of morons (okay I'm sure the pre teens like it. Sorry).

Here's a category I find totally baffling: "Heartfelt". According to my mutual friends Merriam and Webster, "heartfelt" means "deeply felt, earnest." So I suppose a heartfelt film is one that is...I don't know, serious? They really mean what they're saying? Shouldn't that be every movie? Examples from Netflix include (I can't wait): Philadelphia (1993), E.T. (1982) and the Dead Poet's Society (1989). Evidently this is the "serious message" category. For my money you could put Taxi Driver and The Hours in here. Way too broad.

I like this one: "Imaginative". Let me tell you, I have never enjoyed a movie that was not imaginative. The very definition of film making hinges on the notion that said film's creators are helping us in the audience use our "imagination" just as they used their own in creating the film. But I'll bite, let's see what Netflix considers "imaginative" films.  The Chronicles of Narnia (2005), Monsters Inc. (2001) and The Truman Show (1998). I'll grant you they all are fine examples of imaginative film making. But so too are Philadelphia, The Sound of Music and No Country for Old Men. Silly category.

I hate this one, "Feel Good."  Yes, I like to "feel good" but in terms of films it generally refers to sentimental schlock with manipulative, contrived story lines. They're usually phony baloney kids sports movies or people overcoming "impossible odds." Let's see some examples from Netflix: Rudy (1993), Dirty Dancing (1987) and Sex and the City (2008). Rudy is exactly what I was talking about and so too to a lesser extent is Dirty Dancing, What Sex and the City is doing here I don't know but then again I've never seen the TV show or movie. Anyway whenever I watch a film I really like I "feel good."

"Steamy" Movies. These must be set in steam baths! No silly, this is clearly the heavy on sex category. I'm guessing Body Heat (1981) would embody this "genre." Netflix says: Basic Instinct (1992), Bound (1996) and Unfaithful (2002). Same thing.

There are many more categories but frankly I'm starting to find this depressing. Your standard genres such as Western, Horror and Romantic Comedy are limiting enough (albeit sometimes a convenience) but parsing movies into "moods" is downright ridiculous. Just the fact that there's so much overlap seems to negate the whole exercise. How many films that are "Scary" aren't also "Suspenseful" or "Violent"? Also some of these categories are particularly silly such as "understated" and "mind-bending." But the worst aspect of this is how it reduces works of art (More your No Country for Old Men and less your High School Musical) to vague terms.

I pause now to allow you to accuse me over reacting. After all, you may reason, the good folks at Netflix are merely striving to offer the best possible recommendations for my viewing pleasure. I grant that. I do over react when it comes to films. You'd fully realize how much if you could see my flaring nostrils, frothing mouth and tear filled eyes. But to those of us for whom cinema is sacred, labeling and categorizing are a slippery slope only most carefully climbed. I'm only really comfortable with sorting films by director as I do with my DVD collection. There's only minimal use in making distinctions between let's say Film Noir and Westerns. Eras are more useful as is country of origin. It can be fun to divide movies by such arbitrary categories as sea faring adventures, as I recently did, and baseball films, as I'll do in a forthcoming post. But neither of these categories says a wit about me as a cinephile.

I simply can't abide dividing movies by "mood." Especially some of these really silly ones. What categories are next? Abstemious, grumpy, flirty, robust, blasphemous, irritating?

Here's a category: give me a break.

It's National "So What?" Day For Cinephiles, Oscar Nominations Announced

When I used to drink -- and boy did I used to drink -- those of us who were serious about our alcohol consumption considered New Year's Eve to be amateur night. People who got no more than tipsy all year suddenly became sots for a night. We were not amused.

In much the same way, Oscar season emboldens every Tom, Dick and Mahmoud to venture an opinion on nominated films. Even though they haven't seen most of the films, if any.

Here's the thing that one should remember about the Oscars and every other award show or list that names the "best" film or performance of the year: They're full of crap.  There is no empirical evidence for the best work of art or performance of the week, year, decade or century. What is being named is the favorite. In the case of the Oscars it's the favorites of the voters of the The Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences. And these are people who have a notoriously bad track record. Please see, time permitting, this post of mine from a year and half ago in which I detail just a few of the egregious omissions the Academy has made. (To be fair, last year I provided some examples of when Oscar and I agreed on the "best" picture winner.)

Picking a "best" in the arts is an interesting parlor game but nothing to be taken seriously. One reason many of us sports fans love competition is that you can in fact name a winner. This Sunday's Super Bowl will be the definitive answer to the question, what was the best team in professional football this year. Of course sports fans can always fall back on things like, "yeah well the ref blew a call," or "our best player was injured." But savvy  fans know that there is no category for woulda, shoulda, coulda.

The Oscars are no better than the Golden Globes, the New York Film Critics or this blog in naming the "best" of anything. Does that mean that the whole shebang has no value? No. While it is an always bloated show, constantly interrupted by commercials (I DVR it and start watching a half hour after it starts so I can fast forward through the ads) it does at least bring attention to some films that are worth seeing that many people may have missed. There are also some nice moments when clips of films are shown, sometimes as a tribute to a director, other times to pay homage to the recently deceased and other times as part of some theme.

Plus this year Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin are co-hosting. It's hard to imagine a more delightful pairing. I anticipate laughs aplenty, enough to offset the dreary acceptance speeches of people we never heard of thanking people we never heard of.

Just please don't think there's any great significance to what "wins." That's a lot of hooey.

The Sorrow and the Pity, LAMB Readers' Top Ten Foreign Language Films

                                  From Fellini's Amacord.

The Large Association of Movie Blogs (LAMB) today published its list of top ten foreign language films as voted by it's members (yours truly included).

It's way too easy to pick apart such lists as they invariably fail to include a personal favorite. To rant and rave or even blog about the cinematic classics missing is a fool's errand. However, if such a list reveals a some truths then mention can and perhaps should be made.

First, let's look at the list:

10. The Lives of Others - 34 points from 6 voters (1)
9. M - 35 points from 6 voters (0)
8. Rules of the Game - 48 points from 7 voters (3)
7. (of course) Seven Samurai - 61 points from 7 (of course) voters (5)
6. Let the Right One In - 63 points from 12 voters (0)
5. Pan's Labyrinth - 72 points from 8 voters (3)
4. City of God - 73 points from 9 voters (2)
3. Oldboy - 75 points from 9 voters (2)
2. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon - 80 points from 13 voters (1)
1. Amelie - 88 points from 12 voters (3)

Truth number one can be revealed by the paucity of votes. Only 44 members of LAMB bothered to vote. I'm not sure how many LAMBers there are but an educated guess is there's well over 200. Also, there was a recent poll asking readers what their favorite Clint Eastwood-directed film is. It got 78 votes. Yet only 44 people could manage to name their ten favorite foreign language film. Sadly, I'm led to conclude that one helluva lot of LAMBers don't watch foreign cinema or haven't seen enough to make a list of ten they like.

Imagine limiting your viewing choices to English only films! It's as insane as not watching anything old or anything new.

A second truth revealed is that of those of us who've watched foreign language films, many have only seen recent releases. Seven of the ten movies and all of the top six were released in the past ten years. There is one film from Jean Renoir, one from Akira Kurosawa, one from Fritz Lang and none at all from Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard, Luis Bunel, Vittoria De Sica, Federico Fellini, Ingmar Bergman or Roberto Rossellini. Let me clarify. None. Zero.

So not only have we got people who eschew foreign cinema, but those that do apparently favor recent releases that played in their local multiplex. And these are people with film blogs!

(I pause to remind myself not to get depressed. I then wonder if its too late to avoid getting preachy.)

Since I've gone this far I should also express disappointment, though not surprise, at  the top three films on the list: I'm disappointed, but not surprised by the top three on this list.  Imagine Amelie beating out all the films of Bergman, Fellini, Truffaut, Kurosawa and every other director who has created a cinematic masterpiece.

Please allow me now to express my gratitude for LAMB. I am sincere in saying it's a terrific website promoting as it does the love of film and writing and commenting about film. It's a great way for film bloggers to get connected and to be exposed to other bloggers. (We cool?)

For the record, here are my top ten favorite foreign language films.

1. Amarcord (1973) Fellini
2. Grand Illusion (1937) Renoir
3. 8 1/2 (1963) Fellini
4. Army of Shadows (1969) Melville
5. The Seventh Seal (1957) Bergman
6. M (1931) Lang
7. Nights of Cabiria (1957) Fellini
8. Rules of the Game(1939)Renoir
9. Open City(1945)Rossellini
10.Beauty and the Beast (1946) Cocteau

Uncle Tom's Cabin on Film Then, Why Not Now?

Last night Turner Classic Movies showed the 1927 version of Uncle Tom's Cabin. Many films reveal as much about the times in which they were made as they do about the times the story depicts. After the opening credits we get a picture of Robert E. Lee and an 1856 quote in which he calls the institution of slavery "a moral and political evil." He nonetheless fought for the Confederacy in the ensuing Civil War out of loyalty to his home state of Virgina.

The story begins on the plantation of the Shelbys "whose gentle rule of the slaves was typical of the South." Let's allow for a moment that people who keep others in involuntary servitude may have encomiums of any sort bestowed upon them, but this nonsense about typically gentle rule of slaves is utter balderdash. Indeed the movie pretty well goes on to prove the silliness of such a claim. We meet all manner of cruel and lascivious slave master, most notably one Simon Legree. Profiteers and slave catchers are also introduced. Gentle indeed.

The very notion that harsh treatment of slaves was the exception rather than the rule is a product of 1927. The fiction of happy slaves, singing in the fields and reaping the benefits of serving benevolent masters was created in the antebellum period and persisted among many for a full 100 years after slavery was abolished.

The stars of the film are George and Eliza whose wedding is the focus of attention as the story begins. Both are very light skinned (they and their child were played by white actors). Any slave with such light skin is the product of a few generations worth of miscegenation. This was generally in the form of nonconsensual sex between a master or overseer and a slave. It was one of the greatest tragedies of slavery.

Another great tragedy of slavery was the selling off of family members from one another. The supposedly kind and gentle Mr. Shelby sells Eliza's child away from her, prompting them to escape. As part of the same transaction, Uncle Tom is sold away from wife and child. Anyone who wonders why the term Uncle Tom came to be used by African Americans to describe their brethren who "sold out" to whites need only see this subservient character "in action." That being said, many slaves found that such obsequious behavior was their ticket to an easier life. It was a Hobson's choice.

The film ultimately steers so far from Harriet Beecher Stowe's novel that we see the Civil War break out and triumphant Union troops marching through the South. Yet it has much of the novel's power and every bit of its sentimentality. Despite his worst intentions, director Harry Pollard's film is about as searing an indictment of slavery as one could hope for from a 1927 film. For all intents and purposes Jim Crow was still the dominant figure in relationships and laws between whites and blacks in the 1920's. This would remain so until the Civil Rights Movement attained success.

It's worth remembering too, that the film came out less than 70 years after the events depicted. To put that in perspective, today we are a full 70 years from the outbreak of World War II in Europe. The closer one is to a time period the more of a cultural memory there exists of it, however skewed it might be the dominant political narrative. In other words we have a huge advantage in making movies about Vietnam today that will not be enjoyed by film makers fifty years hence.

Watching this 1927 version of Ms. Stowe's novel got me thinking about why no one has ventured a similar effort since an ill fated 1987 TV production. Maybe the best film version wouldn't be based on the novel itself but on the furor its publication launched. Uncle Tom's Cabin stands as perhaps the most important work of fiction ever published in the United States. It's 1852 release helped add fuel to the burgeoning abolitionists movement and added to the growing schism between the North and South. To sight it as one of the major causes of the Civil War is not an exaggeration in the slightest. Ms. Stowe, abolition and slave escapes would lend themselves perfectly to a cinematic telling.

In fact, there are numerous stories from the time period that are begging to be made into feature films. How about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad? The Nat Turner Rebellion? A bio pic on Frederick Douglass? Hollywood seems deathly afraid of stories showing chattel slavery in America. One hopes that misplaced fears of violating political correctness doesn't get in the way of telling compelling stories.

The history of slavery neither can nor should be ignored. It is impossible to understand this country's history without understanding slavery's causes, nature and ramifications. This study is, of course, rife with horrific stories that call to question the very nature of man. But there are also inspirational stories about the ability of human beings to survive, maintain dignity and find some solace. I taught U.S. History for 20 years and always exposed my students to the full scope of slavery. This included the very inhumaness of it. But I also hastened to add how slaves persisted in seeking freedom, knowing it to be their true birthright. I also emphasized the manner in which salve communities formed their own culture and through family, religion and customs experienced happiness in the worst of circumstances. Theirs is a remarkable story that should be told cinematically more often.

The 1927 version of Uncle Tom's Cabin is definitely worth a look see as an artifact of its time, if nothing else. But it certainly serves to illustrate the paucity of efforts today to show this most horrible, and fascinating time.

Finding the Truth Hidden Behind the Facts

In his seminal book on America in the Sixties, Nixonland, author Rick Perlstein wrote of the faith Democrats had in their presidential candidate, George McGovern on 1972's election eve. Polls had shown the incumbent Richard Nixon comfortably ahead for months. Perlstein related liberals undying faith to the film, Twelve Angry Men (1957). "It would end like (the movie) where only the jury's prejudices had blinded them from seeing that they were about to condemn an innocent man, and where the liberal's gentle, persistent force of reason had compelled the brutish conservative, by the last reel, to realize the error of his ways."

Alas, politics is rarely like the movies. Nixon won in landslide. (Twenty months later he resigned in disgrace, but that's another story.)

Twelve Angry Men is the story of possibility. How one man, unconvinced in the face of seemingly indisputable evidence, can gradually bring others around. These men must look at facts and find the truth hidden behind them. That one man (played by Henry Fonda -- who better?) does not use histrionics but reason. It is a triumph of logic and examination over bluster, over pomp over "the obvious."

Score one for the intellectual process. How often have Americans been swayed by leaders and voices who speak from the gut rather than the brain. Indeed the previous U.S. president boasted of utilizing his gut. He and his supplicants, both in government and the media, were able to marshal "facts" to convince the vast majority of Americans about the wisdom of invading Iraq. The results were of course the greatest foreign policy debacle in America's history -- which is going some, I know.

There was no Henry Fonda to reason with W. and the American people. Fonda's Juror #8 from Twelve Angry Men could have calmly encouraged a closer look at the "evidence" being presented as justification for war. Why? It's what we're supposed to do in a democratic system. We're obliged to question the obvious.

The United States is and always has been a country riddled with faults. From slavery to the genocide of native tribes to corporate greed to efforts to block health care reform to Fox News, this country has had some serious messes. But this country is full of promises too and full of potential. Much of which can be found by a close study of the country's constitution (which barely survived the Bush/Cheney's years).

A jury of ones peers can sometimes overcome its prejudices through steady deliberation and render a fair verdict. It happens. Twelve Angry Men presents a case that is a veritable miracle. There is no dramatic movement, slow motion camera work or impassioned speeches. Just folks going over the minutia, looking at at it from different angles, until the truth becomes apparent to even the most bigoted. And even he, that most bigoted of men (Lee J. Cob as Juror #3) is exposed for what he is, even to himself. It is a thoroughly compelling film, with nary a special effect and has held up these past 50 years. Kudos to director Sidney Lumet.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) is another film which presents a miracle forged by a man using the "system." A senator being railroaded by corrupt influences holds a one-man filibuster to expose the truth hidden behind an avalanche of supposed "facts." He wins against all odds.

Those of us on the political left are often plagued by an excess of idealism. We believe in the power of truth to convert. We think that by shining a bright light on lies and hypocrisy -- look there's a man behind the curtain! --

we can help the masses see the truth about a bumbling president or a wrongly accused man.

Movies like Twelve Angry Men and Mr Smith feed our idealism. But so too does our rare success, as evidenced by W.s plummeting popularity in his last two years.

What led Juror #8 to question the obvious? It was his duty. His duty as a juror. As a citizen. He took his charge seriously. Imagine if half as many U.S. citizens took seriously their duty as Americans. To too many, patriotism is standing solemnly for the national anthem and perhaps, just perhaps, casting a vote on election day. For news and opinion they seek not divergent views but the words of those who will affirm what they already believe. They are swayed by ideologues (there's Fox News again) rather than their own study of the facts to find the truth behind them.

That's a lot of work. It's work most of us don't want to engage in. Juror #8 was willing to do the work and thus the other 11 gradually followed. Jimmy Stewart as Mr. Smith was on the verge of giving up -- always the easier course -- but was persuaded by his aide and love interest Saunders (Jean Arthur) to knuckle down and do the work that would not only vindicate him but bring down a graft ridden political machine.

Here then is the what's so wonderful about these two films. They do not rely on super heroes performing the impossible, but on regular people doing the probable. So miracles do happen. They just require good ole fashioned work. That's how you can find the truth hidden behind the facts.

Defending Our Movies, Defending Ourselves

Those of us with even the teeniest amount of self awareness all know one thing about ourselves: we are not perfect. We all have varying degrees of acceptance of this fundamental fact, but there is no getting around at least some of our imperfections. We therefore seek transcendence in other things.

Looking for it in other people is futile. Our most celebrated athletes, entertainers, politicians and writers may have a special talent but are, without exception, just as unalterably human as we are. In case this should be forgotten the media is always quite ready, willing and able to report blemishes as they become apparent.

So we look to things. Many people find perfection in their country. This is not patriotism but blindness. A nation state and its government is a construct that even in the best of circumstances will at some (or perhaps for that matter all) times will be exploited by the few for their benefit or in other ways not best serve the many. And of course countries rely upon leaders who are human... and well you know where this is going.

So we look to art. Through songs, paintings and films we can find beauty. Some works of art we enjoy or admire but acknowledge could have done with a change here or there. But others, albeit a precious few, we celebrate, revere, worship. Here at last is perfection. And we adopt it. It is part of our identity. It is of us.

No bloody wonder many react so angrily to criticism of their favorite movie.

The more fragile our ego, the weaker our self esteem, the more angrily we may react. Not surprsingly older teens and fanboys breath fire when one of their chosen ones is blasted by a critic. Film critics who dared question the perfection of The Dark Knight (2008) last Summer were vilified by angry emails, blog posts and the like. A few months ago the Transformers sequel was roasted by critics far and wide. The near unanimity of opinion of the film did not stop the films legions of devotees from screaming foul at critics. Teens and the typical fan boy is at a vulnerable age, struggling for identity. When something they love is not universally adored they feel the self they are just now forging is being questioned.

One would assume that an old coot like yours truly would gladly avail himself of criticism of a favorite film, want to entertain all views. One would be wrong. I have fallen head over heals in love with Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds. If a writer has harsh words for it I don't want to know. And it's not just about current stuff. All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) has been around for 79 years and if someone has written anything negative about it, whether upon its release or yesterday, I ain't interested.

So, how, you ask, am any different than those keening teens? By the very fact that I don't concern myself with attacks on what I love. If I happen to come across some harsh words for a favored film I hurry along to something else. Others will take the time to read opposing opinions and my even engage with civil debate. Bully! Depending upon how you look at it I either don't have the time, inclination or self security to hear what's wrong with what I find infallible. (Hey, I just assume not hear what you don't like about my wife and kids either.) On the other hand I'll gladly indulge every word of praise from others I can find. Let us share our love. Give me more insight into why I love this movie. Let me find new prisms though which to view and love it.

Of course this is movies. When it comes to political systems and philosophies, leaders, programs and aims, it is incumbent on all of us to remain detached and willing to hear all sides. Not that many people are capable of such rational behavior. The right has been particularly guilty of interpreting any dissent against government policy as sedition when it is in fact the privilege if not the duty of all citizens. Indeed some American patriots are quite evidently the most insecure people you'll ever see. The constant yammering about how great America is (Fox News' Sean Hannity even did a series of shows on how America is the greatest country in the world) is positively bizarre. Imagine a relatively young and successful person bellowing to one and all that he is the greatest person in the world and then brooking no criticism. Madness!

Let us all be willing to hear all sides on key issues of the day. Except of course if someone is talking mess about a beloved movie, them we can ignore.

Movies Yesterday and Today: The Good, The Bad The Racist

One of the principle reasons I cannot, like some of my film blogging brethren, limit myself to seeing movies from Hollywood's Golden Age, is that I like to allow my imagination to spend time with people of color who are afforded equal citizenship.

My 200 favorite all time English language films boasts more movies from the 1930's and 1940's than any other decades. Not even close, actually. But I do tire of seeing African Americans only being allowed to play porters, maids and buffoons and never being granted a lead role. Similarly Asians, Hispanics and to a certain extent even Jews were given very short shrift in films of yore. Openly gay characters did not exist at all, though it's hinted that some men are "sissies" and thus subjects of derision if not contempt. So here was the great deficit of films in the first half of the 20th century: it was a white man's world.

In social situations women could attain equal status (particularly in the pre code era) but politically and economically they were in the back of the bus. Truth be told women enjoyed better treatment in film than they did in the "real world." And there's the rub. It was not that the film industry that was keeping women, people of color and gays in secondary roles, no they were merely reflecting society. Of course one can counter the argument and say that films were perforce colluding in repression. Films continued perpetuating the negative, hurtful stereotypes of the Jim Crow Era and it can be argued, re-enforced them. Those images, as seen in the video montage from Spike Lee's Bamboozled (2000) (above) are powerful reminders of the role film played in oppression.

It gets complicated.

I've had students say of a film from the 1930's that it was "racist" due to the manner in which it depicted a Black character. Far worse, many adults say and believe the same thing. However when Preston Sturges cast a bug eyed, stammering, African-American cook it was not because the great writer/director was a bigot. (Was it?) This was merely a cinematic convention of the time (So?). In fact Sturges was lauded by the NAACP for his depiction of a black church in Sullivan's Travels (1941). We like to label, classify and file away. One false step by a politician, entertainer or co worker and they're out. Makes life easy. Easy and limiting.

Part of the problem is that we cannot apply standards of today to movies of yesterday. Ultimately they just ARE. We need be sensitive to and aware of how various peoples are represented in films of the past but to then condemn them is pointless. We can, with a great degree of accuracy look back at southern politicians of the time who opposed federal lynching laws and label them racist. Far more important we can examine whether odious creatures like Fox TV's Glenn Beck is racist. In dealing with the past making judgments is a false dichotomy and a fool's errand. Meanwhile understanding how the past influenced today is one of the most important exercises we can engage in. We can trace societal norms and attitudes of yesteryear to twits of today like Beck.

The past is what it is. Films from bygone days needs to be looked at, examined, interpreted and understood. Calling them names is just plain silly. I read a lot about Nazi Germany and have to restrain myself from getting angry at those beasts. Better to reserve one's anger for the dangers of today and better still to channel that anger into productive ways to counter those threats.

One night not long ago, as a diversion from our cares, my wife and I were enjoying one of those silly Mickey Rooney Judy Garland "hey-let's-put-on-show" films. It was all pleasant puffery until the two stars began applying black face for a big minstrel number. We could have stopped the film right there and shook our fists at the screen screaming epithets, but being veterans of such moments we soldiered on. Instead, for the next few minutes we realized that we weren't enjoying a musical but getting a history lesson. That's what those moments do. You heave a sigh and remember for a bit the way our society used to be and are thankful for recent advances. (I've often fantasized about traveling back in time to visit the 1930's. But live there? In an openly racist society where gays were locked deeply into closets? No thanks.)

Of course films prior to about 1967 also suffered from rigid censorship via the enforcement of the production code. There is a glimpse at what might have been for Hollywood had the code been done away with, or continued to be ignored, in the many great films of the pre code era, which ended in 1934. (See this previous post for a guide to pre code films. And this post for part 2.) The stories and characters were far more realistic. People enjoyed sex, even before marriage and even (gasp!) if they were women. A film like Baby Face (1933) would be shocking even today. Other films shone a bright light on society like Heroes for Sale (1934). Then the forces of "decency" (i.e. repression) came along and Bathsheba was replaced by Pollyanna. That great films continued to be made seems a miracle.

I used to think that a person could be shot and killed without any blood or visible mark (my vivid young imagination presumed that the bullet would send some sort of sonic boom into the body thus killing the victim). Then I saw Bonnie & Clyde (1967). Violence can be overdone and lord know it has. But it was drastically underdone for the first 60 or so years of movie history. Sex, nudity and profanity can all also be overdone (though I'd be willing to sit through a movie that tried to overdo female nudity) but they were absent from film for too long. James Cagney managed to portray some pretty despicable gangsters in The Public Enemy (1931) and White Heat (1949) to name but two films without so much as saying, "damn." But it's hard to imagine Joe Pesci in Goodfellas (1990) saying "what the heck is so funny about me" with the same impact as when he said f*ck.

Also limiting was that crime could never pay in films. So you always, always knew the bad guys weren't going to get away with it and it was just a matter of how their grand schemes would be foiled. This might have been morally satisfying but artistically it was pretty darn limiting.

I've seemingly made a case for how and why films are today are better than their forerunners from 70 years ago. But as I said at the beginning more of my favorites are from 30's and 40's. How is that possible? To fully answer that question would require an entire post, however here's the short answer: Characters and story were emphasized over special effects. Also, to a certain extent the limits placed on films back then forced writers and directors to tell a fuller story. Today sex, profanity and bathroom humor often interrupt good story telling, they become a kind of short hand. Modern movies sometimes use their freedoms to shock and titillate, again in lieu of telling the story.

Past or present films? Happily none of us have to choose. Thanks to Turner Classic Movies, DVDs and revival houses and film archives we may enjoy the best of both worlds. There is over 90 years of cinema to watch. Bon appetit.

Excuse My Continued Exuberance and How About Some Cake With Your Movie?

In writing about Inglourious Basterds (again) on his Scanners blog, Jim Emerson referenced an Alfred Hitchcock quote in which Hitch said that his films are not slices of life but slices of cake.

I am a big fan of neo realism and gritty tales of everyday life. Whether from the Pre Code Era or a recent independent film, I like a good movie that shines a light on life's truths, however unseemly they may be.

But I also like ice cream and dancing and raucous celebrations and a toe tapping rock songs from the 60's. Most of all I like art, in whatever form, that wakes me up, shakes me up and takes me up, up, up. Move me, man, move me. I don't always wanna just sit here, mind alert but feelings numb. A bite of good rich chocolate, The Who singing Behind Blue Eyes, watching His Girl Friday (1940) things that make my senses stand up and shout, "yipeee!"

Why am I addicted to working out? The endorphins, man. Totally high off them for hours after. I don't walk after a work out, I strut. Hear the music before turning on my iPod.

What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play. I don't know if life really is a Cabaret (1972), old chum, but it can be a real gas. Sometimes you've got to touch it. Grab it. Then hold on for dear life. Cool ride.

Tarantino totally did it. Right up there with his own Pulp Fiction (1994) and works of so many auteurs, he did it with Inglorious. Not off the high yet, 24 hours later. A work out in between so I'm buzzing. Bees be jealous. Oh sure I'll come down. Come down and sit for a bit. Gotta get a dose of reality. Read the news and see what...but not yet. Not now....

See, this is what movies can do. Be the cake. But no calories, no starch, no fat just the deliciousness. The yummy. You get it from the Marx Brothers, from Preston Sturges, Ernest Lubitsch, Cary Grant, Bonnie & Clyde (1967), Goodfellas (1990). The nerve and the verve. They dared to be different. They dared to be good. And they were. No they ARE. Great art is eternal. The paintings of Jan van Eyck and Sandro Botticelli ain't going nowhere. They, like ET are right here.

A terrific film like Inglourious Basterds will have me appreciating other films, and music, dark chocolates all kinds of stuff. It's like its contagious. Our senses are heightened and we want more. The soul is hungry and must be fed. Nourish it. With cake!

Great art offers the unexpected or gives you a different look at the expected. That's it! It's different. Sturges, the Beatles, Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Unexpected. Different. Not just rock n roll or vanilla or a comedy. Not just anything. You know where else you get that feeling? From love. That's why falling in love can be so scary. You've got the rush of the roller coaster and you're not sure its safe. It's actually riskier than a roller coaster, more danger of getting hurt. But the ride is sooooo fun. Thing with love is, that it may hurt you but the rewards! Love makes you experience your life. You're not walking by it anymore. You're in it. Deeply involved with your existence. Great art (and you and only you can be the judge of what's great) involves you. Can't just watch or listen or taste or feel. It's more.

Am I serious that a movie can be so profound? Maybe not for you. Maybe you don't like chocolate. We're all different. Me I don't go backpacking. I don't listen to punk. Don't do it for me. But a great film touches a part of me that's not easy to access. If you've spent some time on this planet and you've seen some difficult times (affirmative to both for me) then you really, really appreciate what you love. I mean it lingers after the moment. And I don't want to go all R rated on you but its the difference between making love and just having sex. Sex good. Love making goes beyond the moment of apogee.

So all this from a Quentin Tarantino movie? No, no, no that was the spark, great on its own terms but of a larger picture. One in which the senses are alive and enjoying. Let us eat cake!

3 Dot Film Blogging...

Item: An Indonesian woman was mysteriously spared the caning she was sentenced to receive today. Her offense was drinking beer in public. And why would I make something like that up? Wouldn't...

Item: Finally watched Design for Living (1933) an Ernst Lubitsch film starring Miriam Hopkins (have a major crush on her) Frederic March and Gary Cooper (the photo above is from the film). One of my first responses to the film was "why the deuce haven't I seen this before?" It is very pre code, very funny and totally engaging. Can't wait to watch it again...

Item: Watched bits and pieces of Miss Universe tonight. Beauty pageants go against most of my core values especially as the father of two daughters. It's the type of deal that I hate while I'm enjoying and hate myself for watching. Still, I like to pick the finalists and am pretty good at it. Comes from having watched these damn things since I was a kid. I still remember as a little kid thinking that the evening gowns were supposed to be the same as night gowns and wondered how rich women slept in such outfits...

Item: Watched the much ballyhooed preview for James Cameron's Avatar which is set for a December release. Assuming no one will pay me to see it, I doubt very much I'll be interested. Looks heavy on the next generation of super spectacular special effects and of course very light on story...

Item: Meanwhile the trailer for the Coen Brothers next film, A Serious Man, has been called by some the best film preview ever. It certainly has helped guarantee that I'll be among the first to see the movie in October. Another interesting preview is the one for Sherlock Holmes. Robert Downey Jr. stars as the title character with Jude Law as Watson. Any film that casts Downey has my attention. Look for it around Christmas...

Item: Tomorrow oldest daugher and I are going to see Inglourious Basterds and it's been awhile since I've looked forward to seeing a film this much. Virtually every reviewer I respect is raving. I only worry that my own expectations will have been raised to too high a level. Preconceptions can muddle the first (which is often the only) viewing of a film...

Item: No one asked, but my favorite columnist is Frank Rich of the New York Times. He is clear, cogent and because he writes once a week his columns are long and seem well researched and measured. I always feel like he's the voice of reason and the perfect antidote to the shrill voices on the right...

Item: A recent post of mine, If I taught "Introduction to American Film" ,was featured on IMDb's hit list the other day. In it I listed 13 films I'd show in such a class with a brief comment explaining each choice. I got a lot of response and much of it came from people who had evidently just left town hall meetings on Health Care Reform and weren't yet through spewing vile. I swear none of my choices are likely to foment insurrection or genocide but you've never know that from some of the angry comments I received. About movies! Some people...

Item: Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert are on vacation for three weeks. Thus my ability to maintain perspective and sanity will be challenged. I'm counting on you David Letterman....

MY MOST CONTROVERSIAL POST YET! I Take on a Sacred Cow of the DVD World

I hate you, Criterion Collection. Yeah, you heard me, hate you.

There. I said it and I meant it. Oh sure, Criterion is the Cadillac of the DVD industry. A film released on Criterion is always gorgeous or is at least restored to its natural luster. Audio commentary is invariably provided along with tons of special features. Criterion specializes in "important classic and contemporary films." Sounds like the devoted cinephiles dream. What's not to like?

I'll tell you what. $$$$$. That's what.

The Seven Samurai (1954) $49.95, The Lady Vanishes (1938) $31.96, Amarcord (1974) $39.95, M (1931) $39.95, a bag of popcorn $25. Okay I was kidding about the popcorn, but my point remains.

Criterion's prices are fine if you happen to own a diamond mine, but to us Ordinary Joes and Josephines, Criterion has effectively priced a lot of films out of our range. Mine anyway.

I own three Criterion films. One was given as a gift, another I purchased with a gift certificate and the third I took on a second mortgage to buy.

One of the worst things about Criterion is they have a virtual monopoly on the better foreign films. Certainly if you want anything by Bergman, Renoir or Malle, as just a few examples, you're going to be paying through the nose. (Snot a bad idea.) So they're forever putting me in the awkward position of trying to decide whether to buy a beloved film or continue enjoying three meals a day. See why I hate them? I like to eat!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you're saying: you get what you pay for. But when a 90 minute movie costs over $30 it better be able to tuck me and get a glass of water. There are limits for even those of us who spend ridiculous amounts of time and money on movies. That's just it. We already go to the theater (which now costs as much as a baseball game, which now costs as much a really nice restaurant meal which now costs as much as...oh hell, you get the picture) and buy DVDs aplenty. Who can afford to put further strains on the family budget by purchasing a $40 DVD -- with just one movie in it.

Giving credit where it is due I will say that Criterion films are great to rent as in such circumstances they are forced to stand as equals to $15 and $20 films. None of your elitist classism then, Criterion. Also they've taken to releasing some of their films under the "Essential Art House" label. I was thus able to buy Grand Illusion (1937) for under a million dollars and may consider ponying up for The 39 Steps (1935). This collection still offers the same picture quality but with nary a special feature. I guess us poor folk don't merit the extras. So thanks anyway for that, some of your films are affordable.

On their website Criterion offers the following gobbledygook answer to the question of why their DVDs cost more:

Our prices reflect all the resources we put into making each release a special release. Each release has a producer who finds the best supplemental features to help further the appreciation of the film, often producing original content. The technical staff ensures that we are working with the best original source materials and digital masters by performing rigorous visual and audio restoration processes.

Please allow me to translate: we do a nice job with our films and there are enough rich b*tsrards and suckers out there that we figure that justifies our outlandish prices.

Hate you.

Give It To Me Straight Movie, What Are You About?

I went to the bank yesterday and the employees couldn't have been more polite. Or more facile. Like the local version of the grocery chain I frequent, corporate has evidently established the policy of obsequious deference to all customers.

I'm perfectly happy to be asked, how I'm doing and my opinion on the weather is available at all times. I will further accept your wishes for a nice day, wonderful weekend or staggeringly stupendous evening. But a dash of sincerity should tincture every salutation. Our local bus drivers are under no compulsion to be genial so if ever one manages a kind word I know it's from them and not command central. That many drivers are grumpy is swell by me. They're just regular folks doing their jobs and not putting on the Ritz in the process.

You should no longer have any doubts that I abhor phoniness.

I hate it in people and I hate in movies. Herein is a problem with modern movies that I've alluded to frequently. Too many movies are formulaic. The plots were developed out of Screenwriting 101 and possess all the artistic integrity of painting by the numbers. Indeed these type of films are not artistic endeavors but ways to put Diet Coke buying butts into cineplex seats. They're ultimately not really about anything, they are thus as insincere in intent as those servile bank tellers.

You can spot these movies coming down Broadway. They boast A List Hollywood stars or mass market product tie-ins, or hip new soundtracks or combinations thereof. Some are even too vacuous for mainstream film critics (except of course Rolling Stone's Peter Travers who LOVED IT!!!). Most manage to sell themselves to a few or even a consensus of critics. Make no mistake many are quite watchable, few stay with you. They are often re-makes, sequels or from James Cameron.

But enough of them. What makes a movie genuine? How does one spot a film that may actually have artistic merit? First of all you may want to navigate away from your local multiplexes or any theater that has a video game in the lobby. If you've got an independent theater in your neck of the woods you're in good shape. Revival houses, film archives and any place that shows independent, foreign or films from the 1970's and before are likely destinations.

Sadly your best bet may be DVD rentals and Turner Classic Movies. That's fine, but you miss the big screen experience.

The difference between these films and your corporate pre fab films is the difference between being taken on a guided tour to someplace you've already been and wandering the streets of a foreign city for the first time.

Example: I could have walked the plot points of the last Iron Man (2008) movie in my sleep. Robert Downey Jr. was delightful, the film was fun and I forgot it before I'd left the theater. Meanwhile, I Loved You for So Long (2008) was a journey to unknown places on a circuitous but fascinating route. This movie stayed with me.

There is a basic honesty in the film making of directors like the great William Wellman. Wild Boys of the Road (1933), Public Enemy (1931), and Heroes for Sale (1933) (photo above) . All capture the time in which they were made. They are about real people in dire, difficult or demanding circumstances. They are unflinching and effective. There is a rawness in the performances whether from James Cagney as a gangster or Frankie Daro as a Depression Era kid riding the rails.

Many films of the 1930's, particularly of the pre production code era, emphasis characters and relationships over the flash and dash of today's Hollywood. In Baby Face (1933) Barbara Stanwyck sleeps her way to the top. She does not find true love as Julia Roberts or Jennifer Lopez would in a similar movie today. The film is too honest for cheap sentiment and love scenes played to that new hit single from today's most popular new recording artist.

In Three On a Match (1932) Ann Dvorak does not find redemptive love after "going bad", she sacrifices herself in a stunning act of bald face truth. Movies were not always made by focus groups. Nor to be fair are all films of today. See The Visitor (2007) from last year which had the very unsexy but very real Richard Jenkins in the lead. The movie didn't do boffo box office in large part because Americans have become addicted to junk food and junk movies. The Visitor told the totally unexpected story of a middle aged man's unexpected journey of self discovery through a couple of illegal immigrants. He also meets an attractive woman who would be perfect for him. They do not have sex to the strains of American Idol runner up Joe Hot Star.

Movies that do the expected and obvious are lying to us. They are pretending life is something that it isn't. We don not live in a world with soundtracks, perfectly timed rescues, bitter enemies that we vanquish, perfect loves that we realize despite all obstacles. I do not minimize the need for movies to sometimes provide a distraction from the day's cares. But a movie can provide loud laughs and still explore relationships in an honest way like Superbad (2007). A movie can provide thrills and chills and still be original, like Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981). A movie can explore true love and not revert to schmaltz ala Brokeback Mountain (2005).

I'd like bank and store employees to continue to be polite. But if they're going to go beyond that and express some sort of interest in my welfare, I'm not really interested. Because they're not really interested. I'd like movies to extend the same courtesy. Be real. Give it to me straight, don't sugar coat. I can handle it. Honest.

Movies are Like Dating In That they Don't Always Work Out

The question: "why didn't you like that movie?" is sometimes analogous to: "why don't you want to go out with her again?" After all a movie is like a first date. The film is trying to impress you. If you have a good first date you'll see her again and if your really like a movie you'll see it again.

Back in my younger days (when dinosaurs roamed the Earth) I had a fair amount of dates. Sometimes with perfectly lovely, intelligent, charming women. But there was no connection and thus no second date. Similarly I see many movies that are lovely to look at and are perfectly wonderful in many respects. But we just don't click.

I finally saw Beau Geste (1939) on TCM the other day directed by one of my favorites William Wellman. It had Gary Cooper and Ray Milland and Robert Preston and lots of thrills, adventures, heroism and I didn't much like it. TCM host Robert Osborne had given it the big sell. But there was just no chemistry between the film and I. Look, I'm under no obligation to tell you why, we just didn't hit it off. I'm not in the habit of parsing a movie I don't like it. Move on and see another. Sort of like dating, only with a movie you don't have to worry about hurt feelings.

When I posted part eight of my favorite directors series on Billy Wilder, some readers were surprised that Sabrina (1954) did not make the top ten. It's a perfectly wonderful movie with the pulchritudinous Audrey Hepburn along with two of my favorite actors, William Holden and Humphrey Bogart. That's one helluva cast and the movie is a delight that I've enjoyed several times. But I'm not in love with it. Sue me.

You want to tell me how great Sabrina is? Go ahead, I won't argue with you. But I won't agree with you either.

At the risk of being obvious, we are all different so art strikes us in different ways. People look at the same damn painting, hear the same music or watch the same movie and because they bring their very own perspective and life experience and taste to it, have completely different reactions.

Does this render all criticism moot? Absolutely not. In the case of film a review, reading a review, whether positive or negative, that you agree with can help you understand and articulate your view of the movie. Whereas before all you could say about a film was "Wow! That was great!" or "Oh my God, that totally sucked!" now you can better understand your feelings, get to why you loved/hated it.

Reviews can also help steer you away from or towards a particular film. With the proliferation of reviews all over the internet, one can easily get a consensus of critical opinion, especially if there is close to near unanimity about a film. Of course you can go to the most highly praised film of the century and think it's trash. More likely, as in my case with Slumdog Millionaire (2008), you'll wonder what all the fuss was about. I thought it an okay film but it didn't do anything special for me. (I've gotten a lot of flack for not loving it "like everybody else" so I'll quote my favorite film blogger, Jim Emerson: I was talking about "Slumdog" the other day with a friend who was equally bewildered by its success as a "feel-good" movie. I have no objection to feeling good. I have no blanket objection to the portrayal of suffering -- even child-torture -- in movies. My problem with "Slumdog" is not that it wants to make you feel good, or that it shows child-torture and cruelty. It's with the glossy cinematic techniques it uses to try to make you feel so good about the experience of watching child-torture and cruelty. And what is the movie's "answer" -- "D) it is written" -- supposed to signify, anyway? To me it feels like it means nothing more than, "We scripted a happy ending from the very start, even though we're showing you all this prettified horror and misery so don't you worry your little head about it." Thanks Jim.

Sometimes people expect a justification for why you didn't like a film. In some ways it's like asking why you're not going to see that young lady again -- but she's beautiful, how come you didn't like her? Maybe the film looked and sounded great, but we just didn't hit it off. In fact it was like that Prom queen with the gorgeous smile and great body, I need something more.

There are, of course, even really "smart' movies that don't appeal to me. A few years ago noted film critic and historian David Thomson, a man I much admire, introduced Jean-Luc Goddard's Pierrot le fou (1965) at the Pacific Film Archives, singing its praises most emphatically. I absolutely hated it. Such pretentious garbage I'd never seen before. I had a moment of thinking that this was something I should like, must have gone over my head. It was only a moment. I recovered quickly and realized that this was like a terrible first date of two people with nothing in common. Actually Pierrot le fou was like going out with the most obnoxious self absorbed person I'd ever met.

If that first date is particularly offensive or rude it may be worth mentioning to other people. Same with a film. If it displays what a critic considers bad taste or is insulting that needs to be made clear. So sure if I just don't connect with a film it's not worth mentioning, but if it has racist stereotypes or is exploitive, I'd be obliged to call it out.

When people I love or respect don't like one of my favorite films, I can feel stunned, hurt, saddened even angry. What's wrong with them? I, of course, recover and practice acceptance of those things I cannot change.

Of course, films, are quite unlike relationships in that we can love many of them at the same time. I've got DVDs of many of my favorite films snugly sharing space on a bookcase. (To the best of my knowledge they are not jealous of one another.) I can have repeat dates with them over and over. I can "have" a different one each night. So many to choose from all waiting for me.

Just like the dating fantasies of my youth!