A Cavalcade of Movies from 1992

1992 was a strange year for me. I graduated from high school, suffered from a self-diagnosed depression, made some friends, met a wife, learned about Old Testament poetry, briefly worked as a carpenter. It was a big transition year for me. Josh picked that year (after picking two other years I'd already done) for my next year to research, and I figured there would be some nostalgia since I knew I was seeing a lot of movies at dollar theaters with my future wife and friends around that time. I saw The Last of the Mohicans twice in one week, for example, and I remember being in a "third wheel" situation with an engaged couple where they made out voraciously during Under Siege. We saw a vertigo-inducing Cliffhanger from a second row, and my wife described Dennis the Menace as "cute." Some of those were 1993 though. Our first real date was to see Alive, a movie that features cannibalism, so that was pretty romantic. 

Anyway, I don't have much time in my life right now. I haven't watched many movies lately, but here's what I've seen from 1992 in the last couple of weeks. My wife and I also saw a 35mm print of Harold and Maude recently. God damn, I love that movie so much. 

Romper Stomper is like a gnarlier American History X, little polish with an almost cinema verite crust. It's a daring directorial debut from Geoffrey Wright, and a risky choice from future A-lister Russell Crowe. There are some tense moments, lots of terrible music, and an ending featuring Japanese tourists. One wild scene of fisticuffs is a highlight. I'd like this better if the line between glorifying the lifestyle and world views of these people and criticizing them was a little thicker. 15/20

One reason I like these movie year lists I'm working on is because it forces me to fill in some gaps that should have been filled in long ago. I avoided this because of its length and because I'm not the biggest fan of biopics. The cool kids call it X, of course, but I was never a cool enough kid to do that. This movie's got an infectious angry energy that makes you want to get up and do something. Spike Lee jabs a finger in your face from the opening shots. I knew only a little about Malcolm X since he doesn't get his special day. As you'd expect from a biopic, this skims along the surface of the high and low points in this figure's life, but it's really something when it slows down and allows moments to fester. Denzel Washington is fiery. 16/20

I didn't really need to watch My Cousin Vinny again. Don't tell my wife, but my reasons were probably Costanza-esque. Tomei's performance here, though still a strange choice for Oscar, just fills you with joy. She's effervescent, and she blends so well with Joe Pesci. The couple has miles of history, and there's something beautiful about the relationship even when it doesn't make sense. This movie has a real 80's feel, probably because of all the Ralph Macchio. I was surprised at how genuinely funny this movie was. I even laughed. 15/20

I already wrote about this movie, so you can read that if you want to see some other half-assed ramblings. I was surprised by how funny this movie was when I watched it this time. I love the performances and dialogue, and I love what this has to say about legend-making, storytelling, Old West myths. Though I'm not sure I like the shift in Eastwood's character near the end when this threatens to become just another Clint Eastwood Western, it's not enough to change my original rating. 17/20

At a game night at a friend's house last night, somebody announced that Clint Eastwood had died. Every single person at the table was skeptical because it's impossible for Clint Eastwood to die. Turns out, of course, that it was a hoax. The same person later tried to kill Michael Stipe as well. 

What a great cast, just spitting out this terrific dialogue, Death of a Fucking Salesman as it's been called. I love watching Al Pacino Pacino things up, but the entire cast is just perfect, showing off and knowing how to make every single word in this script count. Love Jack Lemmon, Ed Harris, and Alan Arkin as a trio of guys scrambling to be successful in a job when odds are stacked against them. Perhaps I'm a masochist because I derived a lot of pleasure from watching these characters suffer while doing their jobs. There's not enough scenery here for these actors to chew up, the whole thing taking place in 2 1/2 locations. That's barely enough to fill Alec Baldwin's big belly. 16/20

An exhilarating mosaic, just the perfect little movie about time and memory and loss for a guy watching movies from 1992 and getting all nostalgic. Visual snippets, sound collage, cinema poetry. I remember as a child staring at a spot on my grandmother's porch for over five hours, not moving at all from the rocker, just watching how the light changed how that spot looked while listening to cars driving by and birds chattering to each other about what the hell I was doing. There's a scene in this one where the camera just focuses on a carpet for about a minute. Light changes that rug, and it feels like the most important rug that has ever existed. Call it pretentious if you want. Call it profound. It made me think of those birds and my grandmother. 17/20

Another Thin Man

1939 sequel to a sequel

Rating: 14/20 (Jen: fell asleep)

Plot: Another thin man.

And so my venture through the movies of 1939--the greatest movie year ever, according to my father--comes to an end with this sequel to a sequel. My wife and I enjoyed the first two movies in this screwballish franchise. I like the rapport of this couple, and I really really love William Powell in these movies. He has a Groucho Marx gait, and I love watching his eyes.

This movie gives the dog a chance to show off, even showcasing a superfluous backflip at one point, and it introduces a baby who might be the greatest baby actor I've ever seen. I'm not sure if the baby does his own stunt work or not, but I'm guessing he does. He's the Tom Cruise of 1930's infant actors.

The plot of this one was completely incomprehensible, at least to me. Of course, I wasn't in the best of moods because my back hurts and my wife is mad at me because my back hurts. She fell asleep during this one, by the way, and I'm glad she didn't ask me to explain what happened afterwards because I'm not sure I would have been able to do it. And that's surprising since I solved the crime fairly early on.

I just imagined William Powell and Groucho Marx having a walking race and laughed out loud.

The Women

1939 sorta-feminist movie

Rating: 15/20

Plot: No.

"Those dreadful women."

My my my, these characters really are dreadful, and I'm not sure I wanted to spend over two hours with them. There's a coworker whom I always want to impress by letting her believe I'm more "woke" than I actually am, however. After I mentioned this movie with an all-female cast and female screenwriters, she was excited enough to make me believe that I had to watch it. I'm not sure it's the feminist film from the late-30's that she was imagining in her head unfortunately.

When I listen to podcasts, I listen at 1.5 speed, something that seems to drive my wife nuts. It took a little getting used to. I felt like these characters were all at 1.5 speed, too, and that also took a little getting used to. Once I adjusted to the rhythm, I think I liked this a little more until it started to lose momentum in its second half, but initially, it was a whole lot of women overacting, hammily squeezing the life out of these semi-witty lines. A character says "so-and-so's only trying to be clever," and early on, this really suffers from everybody struggling so hard to be clever--the writers, the characters. It came across as artificial, and I didn't like the characters much at all. Honestly, I'm not sure they really grew on me that much.

There's a technicolor fashion show in the middle of this black-and-white movie that I wasn't sure what to do with, so I just watched it. It involved monkeys, so I'm glad it was there. There's also another annoying child actor (1939 really was a banner year for bad child acting), but it was probably less her fault and more the fault of the filmmakers for requiring too much of her. She really wasn't bad a lot of the time.

My favorite scene was probably a catfight that ended in a bite that must have inspired Tyson in his Holyfield rematch. I'm sure this is the type of movie that Mike Tyson gets high and watches and giggles a high-pitched giggle throughout.

Speaking of cats, there sure are a lot of animal references in this, the kind of thing that I'm sure feminists would appreciate. There are animals linked to the characters in the opening credits, a woman referred to as a "prowler," references to a trip to the zoo, mentions of kennels and claws. A recurring allusion to a nail polish called "Jungle Red" also proves to be significant to the story.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame

1939 hunchback movie

Rating: 15/20

Plot: Sigh. . .

If I knew I was going to have to watch my second adaptation of this story in 2019, I would never have decided to make a "favorites of" list for 1939. Of course, I think I've decided that I have a thing for dancing gypsy girls after seeing this and the silent version and being enamored by a pair of dreamy Esmeralda's both times. So there's that.

Wait, am I even allowed to use the word "gypsy" anymore? Now that I've typed it, I'm fairly positive it's not appropriate.

https://now.org/blog/the-g-word-isnt-for-you-how-gypsy-erases-romani-women/

There's my answer. I'm going to go ahead and leave my use of the word up there for all to see because I want to model learning and open-mindedness and growth.

Anyway, who do you think is the hottest Esmeralda? I'm only looking for answers from hunchbacked men, by the way.

Laughton's Quasimodo is quite the charmer here. He reminded me a little of Anthony Hopkins' "elephant man." That line he uses on Esmeralda about how he noticed he's ugly because she's so beautiful is something I'm going to try out if I ever meet an Esmeralda in real life. You know, like if I'm at a Disney theme park and decide to fork over the money to run off to the designated area to have my way with a Disney character. They do have that, right? If not, they're missing a real goldmine of an opportunity. I always figured it would be Dopey with whom I'd want to enjoy time in the secret "Sex with a Disney Character" part of the theme park, but after two Hunchbacks this year, I'm thinking Esmeralda.

But I digress. Laughton's caked in pounds of make-up, and it's either the actual visible discomfort that helps sell the performance or he's just really good as the titular hunchback. His "I'm going away so you don't have to see my ugly face when you're eating" is actually something I have said on multiple dates, by the way.

There's some stuffiness here, but there's also some humor that I liked. The doctor watching the proceedings at the Carnival of Fools or whatever that festival is called (Festival of Fools? Festival of Carnivals? Carnival of Festive Fools) who kept intervening with an "It's flat" like Donnie in Lebowski made me laugh, and I liked the idea of people from Marseilles and Paris fighting over who's got the best whippers.

If nothing else, 1939 movies had some good screams. A climactic scream in this one is another worthy of becoming a Wilhelm-esque bellow.

My favorite scene: the one with beggars scaring the poet. That's probably only because it reminded me of a scene in Gymkata though.

Now I'm going away so that you don't have to see my ugly words while you're eating.

Goodbye, Mr. Chips

1939 teacher movie

Rating: 15/20

Plot: The career of a Latin teacher.

I only watched this because somebody tricked me into thinking it was an influence on my favorite television program, Saved by the Bell.

Though I'm skeptical this is really the "best picture of any year" as promised on the movie poster, it is amazingly good for how little actually happens. Mr. Chips' live and career are fairly unremarkable. He gets his job, has some initial troubles as all first-year teachers do, sticks with it, gains a little respect as some teachers do, meets a wife in a very sweet way, deals with personal tragedy and professional disappointment, dies. The performance of Robert Donat, who believably takes us through five or six decades of this character's life, keeps you watching despite much momentum with the plot.

"Silence, you imps!" I've added that to my own repository of "ways to silence imps" for my classroom. In fact, I might put it on a poster and hang it outside my classroom.

Some kid named Terry Kilburn plays about about seven generations of kids from the same family. Boy, did that imp have a punchable face. I'm too lazy to look up what happened to this child actor, but I imagine it was a life of drugs and scandal and an early death in a blimp accident.

The kids really are a bunch of pricks in this movie. I guess that manages to make Chips more endearing although this is coming from the perspective of a guy who does teach middle school.

No, on my deathbed, I will unlikely talk about my students as my own children. My last words are more likely to have something to do with Saved by the Bell.

Missed product placement opportunity: chips

Midnight

1939 screwball comedy

Rating: 15/20

Plot: An out-of-work American showgirl meets a cab driver in Paris and then winds up entangled in a series of confusing romantic predicaments.

"Why else should his grandfather have sent me as an engagement present one roller skate covered in thousand island dressing?"

Man, people fell in love quickly in 1939. This is a charming romantic comedy with a very delightful Claudette Colbert being put in all these predicaments that she's forced to weave in and out of. Don Ameche's a suitable dance partner while a goofy John Barrymore helps her move the pieces around in this battle of witty falsifications. Seriously, almost all of these characters either have something to hide or are trying to pull something over the other characters. They probably don't deserve the happy ending that you know they'll get in a 1930's romantic comedy. In other hands, these characters, ones that characters can be dishonest regardless of their financial status or situation, might come across as really unlikable, but with Brackett and Wilder penning this thing, they manage to be downright lovable.

I had to forgive this movie for an early crack at Kokomo, Indiana, mostly because I don't really have any connection to Kokomo, Indiana.

A question: When was the first use of a montage showing marquee lights for nightclubs? I believe I remember seeing it in a silent movie or two, but I can't remember.

My favorite moment in this might be when John Barrymore and a dog exchange glances.

Gone with the Wind

1939 most magnificent picture ever!

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A lot of crap happens in Georgia during the Civil War and right after the Civil War involving an awful woman and a guy with a mustache.

I fell asleep while watching this about 25 years ago, and since it's regarded by some people as one of the greatest movies of all time, I figured I'd better watch it before putting together my final list of favorite 1939 movies.

Don't get me wrong--I didn't hate it. However, it's way longer than it needs to be. The second half seems especially bloated, and the first half is much more interesting than the second half. In fact, this thing drags from the intermission to the part where the little girl hilariously falls off the pony and kills herself. Yes, that's a spoiler, but this movie came out eighty years ago, and anybody who doesn't fall asleep by the point already knows how it ends for annoying Bonnie.

Cammie King Conlon was also in Bambi, by the way. This is the second really obnoxious child I've seen recently who also did voice work in Bambi. I'm not sure who she voiced. Maybe the hunter who kills Bambi's mom?

I really did chuckle during that scene. It was so obvious that she was going to fall off the horse that I could just concentrate on how somebody died in a pony accident. That's what she gets for killing Bambi's mom three years later, right?

The music hits you hard right from beginning of the credits and really right before that during the overture, but it's not necessarily in a bad way because that theme is so good. But then, when that somber version of "I Wish I Was in Dixie Land" came on, something told me that I should look away, look away, look away from this piece of historical fiction, one nostalgic for a time when we could own human beings. After that, the music is almost constant, just as one might expect.

Is it just me or do a lot of transitions in this seem like they could be the very end of a movie? I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I guess you could say that Victor Fleming knew how to end a movie several times.

How about that guy, by the way? Gone with the Wind and The Wizard of Oz in one year? Unfortunately, Fleming, who had access to all of these little people from the other film ("Singer's Midgets") didn't think to use them in this film. Think of how Scarlett's walk through all the wounded people in the street would have looked if all those extras were little people!

Is it just me or does this movie seem superlong while also yadda-yadda-yaddaing over a lot of key moments?

Is it just me, or am I overusing the phrase "Is it just me. . ."?

Two random things:

1) Rhett Butler's face after every single line he utters in the first half of this movie could be used as an "irony emoticon" so that people will know your texts or online comments are ironic.

2) There's a character named Pittypat Hamilton in this, and I really wish my name were Pittypat Hamilton. I wish I was in Dixie so that my name could be Pittypat.

There are a lot of really beautiful things in this movie, individual shots that manage to stick out in this bloated epic romance.

A pair of black boys ringing a bell against one of the film's many sunsets. The rolling plowed fields. Lots and lots of skies, seemingly painted. The camera moving through napping women while black girls an them with peacock feathers (though I definitely do not approve of slavery, I think I am in favor of parties with required nap times). The swirl of men running off to enlist while goofy-faced Charles and Scarlett rush to court each other. The splashes of colors at a dance and a quick shot of Scarlett's calves. A door closing and darkness moving like a curtain over Scarlett as she stands at the bottom of the stairs. A pan over patients at a makeshift hospital with a stained glass Jesus looking on. The wild fleeing of Savanna, Rhett noting, "Panic's a pretty sight, isn't it?" The aforementioned scene where Scarlett maneuvers through all these wounded men before the shot settles on a flapping Confederate flag, the sequence that Spike Lee used in Blackkklansman. The shots of the characters fleeing with the fire in the background. A rainbow over a ravaged battlefield. Sherman's march--like a silent shot in monochromatic orange. A destroyed South, plantations in rubble. A shot of Rhett drunkenly carrying Scarlett up the staircase because his mustache is in the mood for love even if she isn't. All that fog at the end.

I'm not sure why Song of the South is considered offensive while this movie isn't, but what do I know.

I wonder if the scene where Scarlett shoots a motherfucker right in the face was the bloodiest moment in movie history up to that point. I mean, was there even blood shown in color before this movie?

Train to Busan

2016 zombie train movie

Rating: 8/20

Plot: Just like Snakes on a Plane except it's zombies on a train.

Well, I made the mistake of watching another zombie movie. This movie has very little personality, just a lot of Korean people playing zombie. Lots and lots of mugging. It's got tacky production values, and when it focuses on the humans and their relationship, it is embarrassingly sentimental.

I like zombie movies better when they move slowly.

Braid

2019 mystery

Rating: 10/20

Plot: I don't really know.

The problem with this twisty mystery isn't that I didn't understand it. It's that I didn't really feel like I had any reason to care about understanding it.

An ultramodern film with a really unlikable trio of characters, the flashy editing, thumping score, and constantly shaking camera, instead of being immersive, just kept me hyperaware that I was watching a movie. Mitzi Peirone takes a lot of chances and shows potential with some really cool visuals--purple trees in the background during one character's trip, speeded-up action, lots and lots of tilted shots or swirling perspectives, but I think all that's a distraction from the lack of any coherent narrative here. The movie's a riddle, intentionally so, and I'm sure that if I watched it again, I'd put some more pieces together to better understand what is reality and what is in the distorted imaginations of one or all of these characters. I just don't really have any desire to do that and will more than likely forget all about this movie in a month.

Cool house though.

Backtrack (aka Catchfire)

1990 unintentional comedy

Rating: 8/20

Plot: A hitman hired to take out a woman who witnessed a mob assassination falls for her instead.

This was recommended by my friend Josh. He's not only a fan of bad movies but especially seems interested in bad movies featuring really famous people.

The first thing you notice with this is the cast. Jodie Foster stars, and she's as fetching as I've ever seen her, sexualized from the beginning when a passing car lifts her skirt to expose the front of her panties. I swear I heard an added sound effect when that skirt flipped up. Later, Hopper gives her a gratuitous shower scene and another scene where she slowly puts on lingerie. I'm not saying I minded any of that one bit because I'm as randy as Hopper though very likely a lot less high.

Speaking of Hopper, he not only helms this thing (as Alan Smithee) but co-stars in it. And he can blame the studio all he wants for how this turned out, but it's really his performance that does more to sink the ship than anything else. "I'm just not good at talkin'," his character tells Foster's character at one point, and at least in this movie, he's really not. He has this wildly inconsistent tough guy accent, an accent that's as much all over the place as his character. His character transforms from cool and calculating early to possibly one of the dumbest human beings alive. He really goes at it with some fake saxophone playing, sometimes in front of a Hieronymus Bosch painting; says things like "Where the fucks do you think we are--47th Street?" or "Well, I got an idea for you. Why don't you just go back to the land of fucking wall sockets?"; and has the camera linger on himself so that he can engage in the manly task of chopping wood. His best moment is when he tries unsuccessfully to throw a saxophone through a window. Or maybe it's when he leaves the saxophone behind at a cabin and then somehow has it back again at the end of the movie, almost like he's got stashes of saxophones all over America or something. He's even got it at the end when he pops in from the left of the screen to jerk around with it on a boat while the credits roll.

Other performers in this include Joe Pesci, who screams all of his lines like he's doing a parody of himself and then decided that he didn't want to be in the credits; Dean Stockwell; Fred Ward, the aforementioned John Turturro, really goofy and sometimes wearing these red loafers sans socks; and, for a short time at least, Charlie Sheen. Vincent Price plays a mob boss, and he appears to be some combination of tired, bored, or sick, and Bob Dylan pops in as a chainsaw artist to read through his lines as quickly as possible because he apparently had something else to do. Probably a lot of drugs with Dennis Hopper. That would be my guess. Catherine Keener also pops in as a truck driver's wife, her husband chastising her with "If you used your brain like you used your ass, you'd be a genius."

Hopper makes some confusing choices as director here. There's a cut that made me laugh, and I wondered if it was intentional or not. It shows him scampering across Jodie Foster's roof before a leap from one rooftop to another. Then--cut, and he's apparently landing right in front of her dresser. That made me laugh. Another shot where Hopper and Turturro suddenly have cowboy hats gave me a big smile, too. However, there are some really interesting visual moments in this. I liked a chase through this sort of advertising back lot that leads to a miniature golf course where Hopper ends up inexplicably hiding inside of a miniature church. Sometimes, there are garish colors in the background, almost like Hopper thinks he's making a John Wick movie. There are actually lots of references to art here. Dylan's character is an artist and his claim that he "knows a guy who worked in concrete," Foster is an artist, there are references to O'Keefe, that Bosch painting that Hopper plays his saxophone in front of.

Did I mention there's a scene where Jodie Foster and Dennis Hopper rescue a baby goat? Cause that's in there.

By the way, this movie apparently has two titles, neither which make sense to me. Backtrack? Catchfire?

Two food moments have to be mentioned. One involves an escape from a restaurant in which Hopper's character grabs this giant burrito and takes it with him before the couple flee. That's just great.

But my favorite is probably my favorite product placement of the year for Hostess Sno-Balls. I couldn't believe that was happening, and then while it was happening, I couldn't believe it was still happening.

The Roaring Twenties

1939 1920's movie

Rating: 15/20

Plot: Veterans return from the first world war and try to find a way to use the changing times to make a few bucks.

As with a lot of movies from the 1930s, I find it tough to buy much of what's going on here. This movie's prologue claims that "this film is a memory." While I did appreciate a movie made before our involvement in the second world war having a lot to do with neglected veterans of the first one, not much of this felt all that natural. Bogart was a lot more charismatic here than in that Dark Victory movie, and James Cagney brought an infectious energy to the proceedings, but they never felt like real characters maneuvering through prohibition. Throw in that news reporter narration and yet another terrible child actor--Don Thaddeus Kerr, one would only appear in this one movie--and you've got another typical 1930's movie. Saved by the charisma of the leads and a rambunctious piano player at a speakeasy, this is entertaining enough.

Ida

2013 Polish drama

Rating: 17/20

Plot: A novice nun meets her aunt, and the pair go on a journey to find out what happened to her parents.

One of the most beautiful movies I've seen since the last Pawel Pawlikowski movie I saw. I think I'm going to just call him Paw Paw from now on. I doubt he'll ever read this and mind.

Like with Cold War, Pawlikowski shows off this ability to shoot the space around these characters in a way like I don't think I've seen before. He also once again showcases chickens. The first shots are of a Jesus statue being painted and lugged through the snow, and once those chickens came in, I knew I was in love with this movie, for I am a man who is very easy to please.

As a man who is easy to please, it's probably obvious that I would be into hot nuns, and Agata Trzebuchowska is indeed a hot nun. She's one of two actresses named Agata in this. The aunt, a chain-smoking harlot who clashes beautifully with our titular nun, is also an Agata. They're both really good performances, and I won't say more because I don't want to spoil anything about this slowly-unfurling piece of Polish poetry.

But I will say that when Trzebuchowska finally takes off her little nun hat, I knew right there and then that I have some sort of nun fetish. Thanks for revealing that to me, Paw Paw.

The Great Buster: A Celebration

2018 documentary

Rating: 14/20

Plot: A look at the career of Buster Keaton, the G.O.A.T.

As an appreciation, or a celebration as the subtitle says, this works really well, and I imagine anybody not yet initiated into the cult of Buster would likely be interested in diving into his oeuvre. This showcases his talents as a stuntman, naturally, but also does a good job of focusing on his creative genius, his gifts as a filmmaker, and his acting ability. It starts with his early career as a "human projectile" thrown at a heckler before moving through his vaudeville career away from his family, his early work with Fatty Arbuckle, and the magical 1920's when he had full control over his work. Bogdanovich then moves through the more troubling times to the end of his life before moving back to the feature films of the 1920's and ending with that celebratory tone.

As a Buster fanboy, I didn't learn much of anything, but this did remind me that there are some shorts he did later in his career (as well as the commercial work which I can find collected on dvd) that I still need to check out. And it was great hearing Werner Herzog talk about "quiet tragedy which is very very funny."

You Can't Cheat an Honest Man

1939 comedy

Rating: 14/20

Plot: W.C. Fields tries to save his circus while debt collectors and an annoying wooden man get in his way.

If I could somehow combine this with the Marx Brothers' circus comedy from the same year and cut out what doesn't work from both of them, I think I could end up with a classic comedy. It wouldn't make much sense, but would it really need to?

This might sound a little blasphemous, but I'm not sure Edgar Bergen was a great ventriloquist. His mouth movies like crazy in this thing, and it was really distracting. At the very least, Charlie McCarthy and Mortimer Snerd were better characters than he was a ventriloquist. I was surprised at how much screen time Bergen and McCarthy got in this thing, but I enjoyed seeing McCarthy on a pony or in an alligator (crocodile) or flirting with a babe. Later, Snerd and McCarthy and Bergen are in a hot air balloon talking to himself (read that again--it makes sesne), and it's one of those moments capable of making you question everything you thought you knew about life and puppets.

Of course, McCarthy is also unfortunately in blackface at one point. That's almost as shocking as seeing Shirley Temple in blackface. 

W.C. Fields is in a comedic zone. No, not every gag lands, but watching him engage in verbal tiffs with a wooden man, practice his own ventriloquism, play ping pong, and jar with customers is a lot of fun. He's a natural at playing these shady buffoons and lots of fun to watch in this. Apparently, he turned down The Wizard of Oz to make this one. W.C. Fields as the wizard isn't that hard to imagine.

My neighbor at school bought a mirror with W.C. Fields on it from a Goodwill and thought it was the Penguin from Batman. He didn't even know who Fields was. I showed him a Fields' juggling routine on Youtube, and now he's happy that he's got a W.C. Fields mirror.

The Nine Lives of Tomas Katz

2000 movie

Rating: 12/20

Plot: Don't want to get into this one either.

"My inner baboon is taking over."

My friend Eric recommended this one because he knows my tastes, but I didn't dig this one as much as he thought. Director Ben Hopkins has ideas galore, but this struggles to find a real voice. Random window montages (later, a series of posts), inexplicable title cards, visual non sequiturs, various glitches, reverse exposure during an astral plane sequence. Hopkins is fearless in the way he makes his movie really ugly at times, but although it occasionally has a rhythm and humor that reminded me of British sketch comedy, it never really coheres in a satisfying way. I doubt I'll remember I watched this in a few months though I didn't feel it was a waste of my time while I was watching it. 

Love Affair

1939 romantic comedy

Rating: 14/20 (Jen: Fell asleep)

Plot: I don't want to get into it.

My wife fell asleep during this, and the next morning, she asked for a summary of what happened. And then I told her, and she compared me to Meg Ryan in Sleepless in Seattle. I'm pessimistic enough to think she did the whole thing on purpose.

This suffers from two 1930's movie issues. First, the characters fall in love preposterously. Second, movie producers during this time felt the need to give female characters opportunities to sing.

I have to go.

The Mule

2018 mule movie

Rating: 8/20

Plot: An old man with a good driving record becomes a drug mule.

A brief note: I might be obsessed with this movie.

And now, a list of the best/worst things about Clint Eastwood's The Mule, shockingly only the second worst movie the octogenarian unleashed in 2018:

--The movie's barely started, and an ominous trumpet foreshadows horrendous things.

--"Internet? Who needs it?" "Damn Internet! It ruins everything!" Surprising that an old guy who talks to empty chairs would be anti-Internet, isn't it?

--There's a scene when Eastwood's character gets to his daughter's engagement party or whatever it is where the editing was bad enough to make me laugh. My son was skeptical when I told him why I was laughing, so I went back and showed it to him. He laughed as well. If there's a Worst Editing Razzie Award, I hope Joel Cox is proud enough of it to display it on his mantle.

--Eastwood's yelled at by an ex-wife and then immediately finds an opportunity to bring up his lack of driving tickets to a complete stranger

--There are three windsock men (balloon goons) in about three seconds in this, and it made me giddy.

--Now Eastwood's doing a little carpool karaoke, singing "I love you more than anything." Lovely.

--The score turns jazzy unexpectedly, but it's the audible passing birds during a driving scene that hit me straight in the taint. Some sound guy had to add those bird sounds to this. Did Eastwood tell him, "Now, put your phone away, whippersnapper, because I want you to hear this instruction carefully. I want the audience to hear those birds, you see. Really hear them! Work your magic, kid."?

--Bradley Cooper: "Everybody's on their cellphone." I'm sensing a theme.

--I noticed a continuity error while Eastwood is dancing at the wedding reception. I'm guessing the production crew missed it because they were thrown off by Eastwood dancing.

--"King pimpin', right?"
"Yeah, something like that."

--"What are you doing? That was a perfectly good phone." If that's not the most poorly-delivered line in Eastwood's career, I don't know what could top it. Or bottom it.

--I tensed up when I saw Dykes on Bikes because I doubted Eastwood's ability as a director to handle any scene like that with grace. I think we're all very lucky to get away with nothing worse than "Oh, you're a gal?"

--Random cursing--Eastwood's character might be on the spectrum. "Piece of shit motherfucker!" might be an appropriate way to react to a foreclosure sign though.

--Wait a second--he pulls over and takes a peak in the back of his truck on his third trip or whatever and that's the first moment he realizes he's driving around with drugs? What? I don't see how that's possible unless his character is the dumbest man alive.

--And now a random cop and an opportunity for some really great Bengay product placement. "You do a great Jimmy Stewart, by the way?" What the hell is going on with this movie?

--And now the characters are in an apparent polka bar where there's a polka tribute to veterans. Seriously, what the hell is going on with this movie?

--"I've Been Everywhere" sing-a-long isn't quite as magical as you might think it would be. This is a double sing-a-long with "Ain't That a Kick in the Head" while Eastwood's character makes his fifth trip because apparently an ice-skating rink is something that old men really want.

--"You can't open a fruit box without opening the Internet." "That's the trouble with this generation." It's almost like Eastwood is creating a parody of a curmudgeonly Luddite. This can't be real, right?

 --Eastwood has no problem "helping you negro folks out," and I got a little squeamish. Is that the intent? Is Eastwood somehow challenging our ideas of race relations here? Is there something deeper that I'm missing?

--"I'm black; you're white."
"No shit."

--And now it's suggested that Eastwood's character is engaging in a menage a trois. Because of course he is! Oh my God, this is magical.

--Eastwood's character, while talking about Mexicans, claims, "They all look the same." Oh my. This anti-hero has a little too much Trump supporter in him.

--"I don't know his name. What do I look like--Alexander Graham Bell?" I'll admit it--I laughed.

--A little country scatting while enjoying an ice cream sandwich. Imagine the squint Dirty Harry would give this Eastwood character if he caught him doing that.

--He just called his handlers "beaners," and now it's obvious that he's just messing with us.

--Mental note: Always make sure you're carrying around canisters of caramelized corn just in case you need to bribe a cop.

--His sing-a-longs have turned into improv sessions as he sings about getting gonorrhea from Maria for free-yah, resulting in his inability to pee-ah. You get the sense that Eastwood has been wanting to use this in a movie for forty-five years.

--"Hi, gals. Wow." Eastwood's gettin' sleazy as there are suddenly more asses than in a block of early-90's hip-hop videos.

--Oh, holy hell. Now there's a second threesome! You have got to be shitting me, Eastwood.

--His wife apparently has a hiccup condition.

--Poor guy the police pull over in an ambulance--it's the most dangerous 5 minutes of his life, and it's almost like Eastwood the director is critiquing society in a way that would really tick off the character he's playing. And then the poor guy can't get his seat belt to work, the camera lingering.

--Eastwood doesn't even wear his seat belt in this movie. Seat belts are for pussies.

--"Work a little better if you get that damn phone out of your hand." Eastwood says that to a dude who is repeatedly punching an ice machine. I'm not sure anybody associated with this movie understands how ice machines work.

--More whining about cell phones to Bradley Cooper. I'm really embarrassed for the old guy. I really am.

--There were multiple exterior shots of a Waffle House.

--Wife Mary's death scene--holy crap, Dianne Wiest is bad in this movie.

--"At least we'll always know where you are." I may have laughed again.

What's wrong with me if I kind of want to watch this movie again?

Gunga Din

1939 action movie

Rating: 14/20

Plot: I'd rather not get into it.

Spoiler alert: I didn't think the titular character's bugle playing was THAT bad.

This is the fifteenth movie I've seen from 1939 that features "Auld Lang Syne."

Though the movie is nothing more than 1930's fisticuffs with three admittedly charismatic leads, I can appreciate the gong used during the opening credits. I'm a middle school language arts teacher with a gong in my classroom, and it occurs to me that I've not been striking that son of a bitch hard enough. You've got to put some spine into it! I'm sure my neighbors will appreciate that.

On the one hand, this is a lot of heroic and witty white dudes beating up natives. On the other hand, there's a warbling "whoa" during a scene when an elephant is shaking a bridge that should have been another Wilhelm Scream.

Another case of a movie not being as good as the poem it's based on.

The Cat and the Canary

1939 horror comedy

Rating: 12/20

Plot: The same as the other The Cat and the Canaries.

It's been since the days I included pictures of myself watching movies on my blog that I saw the 1927 version of this, but I'm going to say it's superior only because it doesn't have a hammy Bob Hope cracking wise.

Her Smell

2019 punk movie

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A troubled rock star tries to overcome addiction while a daughter threatens to ruin her career.

Initially, I thought Elizabeth Moss's tongue was going to do most of the heavy lifting here, but it didn't take long for me to adjust to the wild rhythms of her performance. I like my performances big, and it doesn't come much bigger than this, a bravado performance that creates this dangerous and barely human trainwreck of a character. Moss hoists this story in five chapters on her unsteady shoulders and then hops right on a tightrope above a pit of crocodiles and cocaine and takes daring chance after daring chance. She's channeling Gena Rowlands, and even if the movie was terrible, it would be worth watching just to see what she does.

At one point, Moss's character's mother says, "No, I don't want to see what happens next." Boy, I sure did. Alex Ross Perry's as daring with the structure and shot selections of this character study as Moss is with creating the character. The movie's a series of typhoons juxtaposed with drizzles, the camera just objectively observing all these visible conflicts in extended sequences and somehow managing to capture the main character's inner conflicts as well.

And a moment when Moss sits down at a piano? Jeez Louise!

Son of Frankenstein

1939 sequel

Rating: 15/20

Plot: Frankenstein's son pops in with his family, including the grandson of Frankenstein. The townspeople aren't pleased, especially when Igor starts stirring up trouble.

Intended on skipping this one in my venture through the cinema of 1939, but with the incomparable trio of Rathbone as the titular son, Karloff as the monster, and Lugosi as shit-stirrer Igor and some really great expressionistic imagery, this one is at least very entertaining. The mansion's got all these great curves and angles, and the laboratory is cool, too. And those trees in those exterior shots! Oh, what lovely dark trees!

But that cast! Bela Lugosi's great, lurking early and later playing a weird flute following a murder. Along with saying sketchy things about how the monster is "[his] friend who does things for [him]," that flute playing should have betrayed his intentions. Paying for the sins of his father, Rathbone's super-earnest, talking about "cosmic rays" at one point and his father's creation "from his warped brain down to the tiniest argumentative cell of his huge cockles," making his character a bit like some stoned Ivy Leaguer or something. And there's Karloff as this monster for the last time, so capable of being both completely still and potentially menacing. I believe the monster spoke in the previous installment, and it's unclear why he doesn't in this one.

I also liked Lionel Atwill's inspector character, complete with a Peter Sellers arm. "One doesn't easily forget an arm torn out by the roots," says he. At one point, a character makes a reference to a "hand" around him, and I wasn't sure if the pun was intentional or not. I could have sworn Atwill gave a look of recognition that broke the fourth wall there.

Unfortunately, this movie also features the Grandson of Frankenstein, a kid played by Donnie Dunagan in what will likely be the worst child performance I see all year. You might know Dunagan's voice from his last notorious performance as the voice of Bambi. Imagine Bambi's voice but coming out of an actual human child, and you can imagine how painful this performance is. Looking at his filmography, I noticed that Dunagan is in something that is currently filming, a movie called Sub Rosa. It's his first role since Bambi, and I really hope he shows up on screen and talks the same way he did in 1942. Around the time this kid Peter von Frankenstein starts rudely asking the inspector about his arm (seriously--just imagine Bambi saying, "Gee, sir. What happened to your arm?"), I came to the conclusion that the townspeople were less upset about Frankenstein's son coming to the village and more upset that he brought this terrible child acting there.

The music for this is much better than you'd expect for a movie from 1939.