Raging Bull

1980 boxing movie

Rating: 20/20

Plot: The story of boxer Jake LaMotta and how Jake LaMotta leaked all over the floor.

Ok, I know I just called it a boxing movie, but it's not really a boxing movie. It's a movie about a boxer. There's a difference, and that difference is what elevates this to its status as one of the greatest movies of all time. This has scenes that take place in boxing rings. They're filmed in a way that puts the audience right in the ring. The use of slow motion, the black and white grime, a camera that just leers, background sounds and the way those background sound (including birds?) are recorded just forces you to focus, and that's true of the scenes in the ring as well as outside the ring. Scorsese has this way of making this movie stuff, in some weird way, more real than reality, and that's even with the boxing scenes probably not looking all that realistic. But again, it's not a boxing movie, and Scorsese and company aren't all that interested in creating realistic boxing scenes. No, they want to create a picture of a self-destructing man's soul, the colors of that soul's bruises, the depths of its creases, and the shapes of its scars. It's not necessarily a soul you want to spend much time with, but this, maybe more than any other biopic, just traps you in there and almost forces you to watch. After a couple hours with LaMotta, you really almost feel like you've been pummeled for fifteen rounds. And there's such a range of emotions you feel with this subject. You hate the guy, you sort of feel bad for the guy, you laugh at the guy, you're scared for the guy, and you're scared of the guy. A lot of the power in this character and this movie comes from De Niro's otherworldly performance, that ability to crawl inside LaMotta's skin. De Niro likely had to take extra long showers after some of these scenes. LaMotta's character is one that doesn't make a lot of sense, but De Niro makes him make sense, makes all his flaws real. It's one of the greatest performances of all time, the kind of performance that is so good that it could almost kill a movie if that makes any sense. The kind of performance that could completely overshadow what everybody else is doing. I remember seeing this as a kid and actually believing that old flabby LaMotta was being played by a different, chubbier and older actor. Still have trouble believing that transformation. With De Niro's brilliance, it's remarkable that anybody else in this movie can float, and the fact that they do is evidence of their own abilities. Pesci can freak out like the best of them, and every single scene that Pesci and De Niro share has this great rhythm to it, as well as this electricity that you just don't see with a pair of actors all that much. Part of it might be the writing, but the words didn't stand out so much. They could have been reading grocery lists back and forth to each other, and it still might have worked. And Cathy Moriarty's performance is simply stunning. In a movie about men, she manages to not be completely swallowed up. Her eyes cut through the screen, blink right in your living room. She and her character have this power, and it's amazing to me that can deliver this type of performance since A) she was only 19 or 20 when it was filmed and B) it was her first movie. Just amazing. Scorsese's directing tricks are subtle, but he's a master, here squeezing this raw intensity on the screen. A terrific, exhausting movie.

The Life of Emile Zola

1937 best picture

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A 19th Century French writer makes his living trolling society. When an innocent man is court-martialed for being a spy and sent to Devil's Island--a historically not-very-nice place--his wife comes to Zola to look for help. Zola risks his own freedom by trying to uncover the truth.

There are things that are dated about this, but it doesn't take away any of its impact. The titular character is nice and meaty, the kind screenwriters create just so that some actor can tackle the role and win an Oscar. Paul Muni's that actor, and his performance is a powerful one. He seems to gain wisdom as he ages, and gets all kinds of juicy lines to make Acting with that capital A happen. His big courtroom monologue should be more famous than it is. Muni shows some versatility since there's nothing gangsta about Zola at all, and he seems to get better as the movie goes on. I also really liked the performance of Joseph Schildkraut as the wrongly-accused Dreyfus; he nails one of his final scenes as he emerges from a prison cell as an older Dreyfus, and he does it without any words at all. Beautiful stuff. Dieterle's direction is simple and probably more effective for it. There are some lighting choices and slow zoom-outs that reminded me of moves from the silent era. Other than that, there's not much style to speak of which only helps you focus more on the complexities of the story. Like Argo, the history's a little hugger-muggered, but it's not as sneaky as Affleck's storytelling. There's even a title card that tells you it's not 100% historical at the beginning of the movie. This is a movie that is never really gripping, but it's consistently interesting, and the performances make it a 1930's classic that more people should probably know about.

And I really need to throw "muckraking" into conversation more.

Recommended by Cory.

Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story

1988 biopic

Rating: 14/20

Plot: The Karen Carpenter story, detailing her rise to fame in the 70s with The Carpenters and her battle with anorexia nervosa.

But with Barbie dolls.

This is Todd Haynes first movie, and it looks like it's probably a student film. It's made on the cheap, but the use of the dolls is definitely effective. The initial fun of watching this reenacted with dolls does wear off a bit after a while, and I'm glad this movie isn't longer than the forty or so minutes that it is. I happen to like The Carpenters' music, but the fact that there is so much of it in this little film made it really difficult to both watch this movie or find a poster since its use (and probably the use of Barbie dolls actually) makes this movie illegal to sell. Well, the former wasn't all that tough actually since you can see this thing on the Internet. You'll see the use of the dolls as novelty, but it really does help drive home a point of some kind. I might not know exactly what that point is, but I'm sure there is some kind of point.

By the way, if you're into this sort of thing, there is a Barbie spanking scene in this one. Hot!

Oprah Movie Club Pick for August: Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters

1985 biopic, apparently in four chapters

Rating: 16/20 (Mark: 15/20)

Plot: It's the rockin' good times of the titular author, Yukio Mishima, a man all messed up in the head because he was forced to rub his grandmother's legs as a young boy. This weaves three of his stories/plays and his parallel life events before describing the details of his last day when he commits suicide after his buddies make fun of his Harry Caray impression. Or something. I really don't understand this culture at all.

This is one of the more challenging biographical movies you're likely to see. It's conveniently broken into four chapters, three which attempt to blend biography and Mishima's literature and one which matter-of-factly reenacts the man's final act. And by "convenient," I mean "not really all that convenient at all" since it's hard to connect the dots with the fragments of this guy's life. The styles and colors vary--the beautiful black and white of memory, the lavish and almost gaudy colors in the staged literature excerpts, and the realism of that final day. I don't think too many people will watch this and not think it's all beautifully filmed, the individual chunks of Mishima's story told in visually stunning ways rich with symbolism. My man Philip Glass's pulsating score adds to the experience. Striking. But for me (and maybe this is just because I'm a dumb guy), it was hard to put some of the pieces together, and there are times when it got a little boring. Mishima and his contradictions are hard to get your head around in this. He's a writer who doesn't believe in the power of words, a married homosexual, a guy with convictions that really aren't all that clear. All the actors playing Moshima do a fine job, especially Ken Ogata (the last Moshima) who also did a great job in the The Pillow Book where he played Ewan McGregor's penis. This is a pretty and intense movie, and it's a very good movie if you're in mood for a really complex story about a really complex guy. It's just not completely satisfying.

Trivia: Philip Glass only used two fingers when composing to score for Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters.

Bound for Glory

1976 biopic

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Woody Guthrie has to ride the rails after violently disrupting Uma Thurman's wedding. Along the way, he becomes a folksinging sensation and a voice for the common working man. But will his past come back to haunt him as Uma is hot on his dusty trail in her efforts to get her revenge and. . . Kill Woody!

So here's David Carradine as Woody Guthrie. He's really solid, especially when he's got a guitar, although I'm not sure I always buy him as a down-home kinda guy. I'm not sure if it was director Hal Ashby's intention or not, but Carradine stands out so much from the rest of the people on screen. And then at the same time, he doesn't quite stand out enough. Anyway, I like Carradine as the titular folky. Bound for Glory is a very good-looking movie, adequately filmed through a layer of dust for the scenes in the Dustbowl and a layer of grime for the train scenes. I like movies with lots of train action, and although there was a lot of time devoted to Woody's time hobo-ing it around, I really really likes those parts, probably because of my secret dream to someday be a hobo. Ashby and Carradine do a good job of illustrating Guthrie's importance to the folk without really getting into his importance on music in general, but that's likely because this is all based on Woody's autobiography. And because of that, you wonder how much of this you can really believe and how much of it is self-bloating. Ashby's version of Guthrie's story moves along languidly which gives somebody interested in this sort of material a chance to really absorb the setting and its characters, but I'd imagine this would get a little boring for a lot of viewers. Randy Quaid, by the way, plays a migrant worker. Why do I always assume that guy is much younger than he actually is. I just looked up his filmography and noticed that he was a Klansman in Birth of a Nation! A good look at the life and times of an American icon.

Urine Couch AM Movie Club: American Splendor

2003 movie

Rating: 17/20

Plot: The real life and comic life of the very real Harvey Pekar, author of the American Splendor comics that R. Crumb illustrated, collide in a multimedia presentation.

This is a brilliantly layered movie with some stunning transformative performances from Paul Giamatti, Hope Davis, and Judah Friedlander. I dig the playfulness of this one, the twisting of reality, the meandering metafilm technique, the weaving in and out of documentary and narrative. American Splendor is a fun and completely unique biopic that makes you laugh and wonder, taking jabs at the absurdities of human existence. I really like it.

But I would really like to write about something else that happened during this Urine Couch AM Movie Club. About a half hour after I got to work, a transvestite, one of our guests, waltzed in. He had a wig, layers and layers of make-up, a nice blouse, a very short black skirt, these sexy fishnet stocking things, and some black high heels. I know what you're thinking, too. Man, Shane really checked this guy out. Yeah, and what's your point? He asked for a new room key and then sashayed out for what I assumed would be a glamorous evening. Around four-thirty in the morning, he/she came in. I was watching this and heard the ice machine in the room behind me. I peeked through the door and saw that it was my transvestite friend again. He got his ice (I can only imagine what he's using it for) and then walked into the lobby to ask when I'm putting our luxurious continental breakfast out--a few "Manager's Special" doughnuts, some coffee, napkins. I tell him that I usually do that after my movies have ended but offer him the rest of yesterday's doughnuts. He took two stale doughnuts and thanked me. "Man, thank you so much. I just don't have any money right now." He high-heeled out again, and I sat down to enjoy more American Splendor. Fifteen minutes later, he came back with a shrink-wrapped pornographic dvd. He flashed both sides at me and said, "Hey, do you know anybody who would be interested in buying this for five dollars?" I apologized and told him that I didn't.

I found out the next day that he refused to leave. He told our front desk person that she was going to have to call the police because he wasn't going anywhere.

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

2002 biopic

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Based on the memoir of game show innovator Chuck Barris where the author claims that he worked secretly as a CIA assassin while developing such gems as The Newlywed Game, The Dating Game, and The Gong Show.

Well, looky there! It's the ubiquitous Sam Rockwell again. I'd either forgotten or didn't ever know that this is a Charlie Kaufman screenplay. It's his type of tale, but with George Clooney's direction, it's really more Chuck Woolery than Wink Martindale if you know what I mean. The Clooney does a fine job, by the way, not afraid to be a little experimental in approaching Barris's story and creating all kinds of nice moods to show the contrast between his mysterious and dangerous life of intrigue and his zany and hopelessly optimistic life as a television producer. I enjoyed some of the noirish and thrilling scenes in gray European alleyways just as much as the scenes of Barris showing Network suits the unbroadcastable Dating Game clips. Barris isn't exactly a likable character, but both sides of his coin make for some movie fun. And Rockwell can be thrown into that category of actors who are almost too good playing the real-life famous fellow they're playing. George Clooney and Julia Roberts play characters who in no way can be real which is probably the point, and Drew Barrymore once again succeeds in making me wish that somebody other than Drew Barrymore was playing the part. Barris's "life" is perfect for a black comedy, and even though this is fun and satisfying in a kind of dark way, I do like that Clooney plays it all straight. There's no winking in this movie, and I think that makes it a better film. Nostalgically, I enjoyed seeing the Gong Show clips since I remember watching that show as a little squirt.

I Love You Phillip Morris

2009 gay romantic comedy

Rating: 16/20 (Jen: 16/20)

Plot: Stephen Russell,, an on-the-surface happily married police officer , is involved in a car crash. Immediately afterward, he turns gay, proving once and for all (since this is a true story) that people aren't born gay and that the conservatives have been correct all along. He also turns to a life of white-collar crime, conning his way into very comfortable life style with his boyfriend, Jimmy. Until he's arrested. But life really begins for Stephen in prison when he meets the Phillip Morris in the title, a shy gay man who he eventually gets to bunk with. And yes, "bunk" is a euphemism there. Once they're released, Stephen tries to create a happy life for Phillip and him the only way he knows how--illegally.

I could have used a few different posters for I Love You Phillip Morris, but they were all, for whatever reason, pretty gay. This is a good comedy, and it's great for a romantic comedy, aided by two likable leads. Jim Carrey gets some good material to work, and although that side of him that people have been sick of for ten years occasionally rears its ugly head, his flamboyance never really goes over the top and the tender moments are believable. Ewan McGregor's just as good as Phillip. You really feel his vulnerability, and for whatever reason (probably because he's English), he wears gay pretty well. It's a fabulous performance, and I'm not just using the word fabulous because this is a movie about homosexuals. It's shocking to me that he's in a movie where he engages in gay sex and doesn't show his penis on screen though. I believed the two as a couple for most of this and thought they had good chemistry, and the make-out scenes were hot. This feels like too much, too exaggerated to have actually happened, and I wonder how much they stretched things for Hollywood. Comparisons to Catch Me if You Can are probably obvious, but this one is a lot livelier and has this radiance that feels refreshing. It's not all bright, however, as it approaches subject matter nearly taboo for comedy. There's what I thought was a twist that I saw coming, but it was really well done and led to one of the most touching scenes Jim Carrey will ever be involved in. It's all a hell of a lot funnier than Brokeback Mountain though.

Lenny

1974 biopic

Rating: 17/20

Plot: The life and career of controversial comedian Lenny Bruce, a guy who liked to say words like "poop" and "boobs" and "pee-pee" on stage a lot. He marries Lex Luthor's assistant, struggles to get ahead in his career, finally makes it big, gets in trouble for using the words "banana" and "parakeet" in inappropriate contexts, has a baby, and struggles with temptations. Penis!?

I realize I grabbed an image of the poster that shows creases, and I'm glad I did. It really seems appropriate since this is a Bob Fosse movie that isn't afraid to show its creases. A story that is anything but black and white is told ironically in this gritty black and white, so suitable for this world of night clubs and strip joints and cheap hotel rooms. It's a story of a funnyman, but a story clothed in gray and bathed in dim lighting, and the stark scenes draw the focus to the characters and the actors who play them. And what performances those are! The fact that the gorgeous Miss Teschmacher and her glorious bosom (actually the glorious Valerie Perrine and her glorious bosom) isn't completely submerged beneath the performance of Dustin Hoffman as the title character says something. She plays wife Bunny, a challenging and brave role with a nice range of emotions and plenty of chances to get a little naked. She pulls off manic, troubled, broken, ecstatic, wounded, and more in this roller coaster of a performance. Hoffman's as good as I've seen him, his Lenny Bruce as spot on as Jim Carrey's "tragic" "comic" in Man on the Moon. I don't recall seeing footage of the actual Lenny Bruce and therefore can't judge the body language, but Hoffman definitely had the cadence and stand-up delivery down. I liked the structure, almost a pseudo-documentary approach with after-the-fact interviews with Bunny and Bruce's manager and lots and lots of footage of Hoffman on stage delivering Bruce's "jokes" and banter. The stage scenes were woven within the narrative structure, helping to transition from point to point in Lenny Bruce's life. I'm not a huge fan of the Lenny Bruce recordings I've heard, by the way, but I can't argue the influence he had on comedy. And his story, or at least this particular telling, is thematically layered and moving, the end scene a perfect interrobang that drives home a near-profound point. I came away caring about and respecting Lenny Bruce a lot more. If that was Fosse's goal, he succeeded. If is goal was just to entertain with a good story, he succeeded there, too.

That's right--interrobang.

Amelia

2009 biopic

Rating: 9/20 (Jen: 13/20)

Plot: Details the misadventures of the notoriously lousy pilot Amelia Earhart.

That poster almost makes me throw up. So did Hillary Swank's relentless smile in this movie. I'm not sure if Amelia Earhart is known historically for having a smile that made her appear as if she was about to bite your head off, but that's about the only thing I learned about Earhart in this movie. Well, that and the fact that she was such a whore. I didn't know that. Maybe it's because I have the mentality of your typical middle schooler, but I can't watch a Richard Gere movie without thinking of gerbils or Ewan McGregor without thinking of Ewan McGregor's junk. And now, I guess because of a guilt-by-association thing, I won't be able to watch a Hillary Swank movie without thinking about gerbils or Ewan McGregor's junk. And those would be just reasons number two and three for why I'd rather not watch another Hillary Swank movie. In Amelia, like in her other movies, she's Acting with that capital A, sinking her giant teeth into a role that's got Academy Award written all over it. Only she's not a great actress, and she makes Amelia Earhart seem like one of the most irritating women in history, a character I hoped to see eaten by cannibals (or Michael Oher) by the end of the movie. Eerily melodramatic and sickeningly sentimental, almost every aspect of this movie seems unnecessary. I would much rather just read a book about Amelia Earhart, and I don't even like reading.

Man of a Thousand Faces

1957 biopic

Rating: 13/20

Plot: The life of silent film legend Lon Chaney, father of talkie film legend Lon Chaney Jr., from his childhood growing up with deaf parents to his career as a make-up maestro in Hollywood.

I can't say I ever really bought this one. Cagney does an admirable job, and I liked the behind-the-scenes reconstructions of Chaney playing some of his most famous roles. But this never really feels like an accurate portrayal of the man, and so much of the film seems incomplete and boring because the director breezes over so much. The fact that I was far more interested in finding out more about the life and work of Lon Chaney before I started the movie than I was halfway through Man of a Thousand Faces is telling. Also telling--halfway through this, I started wishing I was watching a Lon Chaney Jr. movie instead, maybe Hillbillys [sic] in a Haunted House or Spider Baby, or the Maddest Story Ever Told. This is melodrama that never grips, and storytelling that rarely moves.

Man in the Mirror: The Michael Jackson Story

2004 VH1 original movie

Rating: 2/20

Plot: An unauthorized biopic about the guy who ended up buying the bones of the guy the last movie I watched was about. Following early fame and fortune as a child singing sensation with his brothers, Michael Jackson becomes the King of Pop, buys a ranch, pretends he's Peter Pan, burns his scalp, molests a lot of young boys, marries Elvis's daughter, divorces Elvis's daughter, has some children, has some plastic surgery, and gradually turns into a white man.

Before I pushed play, I thought I was going to watch a documentary. Nope. It's an unauthorized biopic. And being an unauthorized biopic, they weren't able to get the rights to any of Michael Jackson's songs. That's right. This is a movie about the life of Michael Jackson that doesn't include a single Michael Jackson song. Oh, there are a lot of scenes where he's performing, but there are no Michael Jackson songs. There's just something completely wrong about that. It's like making a movie about Babe Ruth without showing any scenes with Babe Ruth playing baseball. But that's not the only problem with Man in the Mirror: The Michael Jackson Story. No, no, no, this movie has more problems than Michael Jackson had quirks. First, this has more awkward moments than any movie I've ever seen. Take this bit of dialogue between Michael and sister Janet:

Michael: (enters room) "Hey, Tink."
Janet: (looking up) "Hi, Peter Pan!"
Michael: "I'm Peter Pan!"
Janet: (clapping) "And I'm Tinkerbell!"
(A tickle fight ensues.)

Or this one between Michael Jackson and a little boy:

Little Boy: "Hi. . .you're famous."
Michael: (shakes head wildly like he's in a cartoon or like he's trying to get a wasp out of his hair) "Am I?"
(A tickle fight ensues.)

Or look no further than a scene where Elizabeth Taylor tells Michael Jackson, during the time when the molestation accusation is causing him problems, that she'll always be there for him. It's a corny scene. But the next shot is with a group of photographers taking pictures of an apparently nude Michael Jackson (as I recall, part of the investigation) while Jackson's assistant stands in front of him and holds up a painting of Elizabeth Taylor. What the hell? That might give me nightmares. At one point, Elizabeth Taylor tells Michael, "This is not a joke." It's really hard for me to see this production as anything but a joke.

Don't believe me that this is stuffed with awkward? Look no further than Michael and Lisa Marie's first date, a date where they apparently go outside to look at stock footage of butterflies. One of them lands on Lisa Marie's finger, and Michael points out that "That's rare" and that it's probably because Lisa Marie is sweet. Then cut to what might be the worst montage I've ever seen--shitty music (not Michael Jackson's music though) with different shots of Lisa Marie and Michael striking slightly different poses with some trees in the background. Right at the moment when you're about to throw up, it cuts to a shot of the happy couple in the bedroom where Michael (thankfully!) announces that he doesn't believe in premarital sex. But they still kiss. And if you ever find yourself in a position where you're forced to watch this movie (i.e. you've died and gone to hell), you will still throw up all over the floor.

OK, you still don't believe me? Then take this line of dialogue, spoken right after a news person has made fun of Michael Jackson for naming one of his children Blanket. "But he's like a blanket. . .a blanket of love."

The camera work will make you wish the people involved had gone to a film school where they taught the students about tripods. There are so many scenes where the camera will very quickly pan to another character and stop to, for whatever reason, shake a little bit. You're jerked very quickly from episode to episode, and although it touches upon most of the most difficult times in Jackson's life, it's mostly very pro-Michael. The acting in this travesty is almost as good as you'd expect to get from any television commercial. Flex Alexander, an actor who presumably used a pseudonym to protect his career, had terrible writing to work with, but his Michael Jackson isn't far from what you'd expect to see in a late-night parody. The woman who plays Elizabeth Taylor (Lynne Cormack) gave another performance that seemed like a parody. In fact, I thought at first that it was Saturday Night Live's Cherie O'Teri. A lot of the story is pushed along with words that pop on the screen. It's insightful stuff. Like "A dream come true." Or, "Michael's new friend, Manny." And somehow they manage to tie in O.J. Simpson and 9/11.

This will easily be the worst movie I see all year. So why am I giving it a 2/20 instead of a 1/20? Outstanding special effects (I'm thinking a powder) used to show Michael Jackson's weird skin discoloration thing. I was impressed with that.

The Elephant Man

1980 movie

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Victorian doctor Frederick Treves stumbles across the titular attraction while strolling through a freak show. He makes an arrangement with the elephant man's slimy owner to borrow him for science. He shows off his find in front of a bunch of other scientists, but as he spends more and more time with the freak, he realizes that there's a John Merrick inside, a intelligent and sophisticated man who desires, feels, and deserves dignity.

The memory of watching this, for whatever reason, with my father when I was a kid has always stuck with me. When Merrick was finally unveiled, the image was shocking. It still is. I couldn't believe what my young eyes were seeing on the screen. As an adult, I think this movie is extraordinarily depressing, almost too depressing. As a visual essay on the true nature of man, it's just so pessimistic. A lot of that is probably the result of Lynch's typically cold style. It's actually his second warmest movie and his first "straight" story, but the camera is so often detached from these characters, the audience often being forced to look at Merrick from a distance. Maybe that's the point. I do wonder (now, not while watching) how much of that detachment is intentional, an attempt by the filmmaker put the audience into a situation where we're in the exact same position as the people who used or leered at the real Merrick. There are a lot of uncomfortable scenes in this story, times when you almost want to leave the room so that the elephant man can have some privacy. A lot of this movie is very cold, clinical. An exception is the scene where the doctor first sees Merrick, and the camera slowly zooms to the point where just Anthony Hopkins' face fills the screen just at the time a single tear moves down his cheek. Of course, the next part of the story is Treves moving Merrick from the side show to the laboratory stage, really just another side show, so it's not easy to pin down the doctor at all. This movie came right after Eraserhead, and although The Elephant Man seems like Sleepless in Seattle compared to Lynch's first work, you still have some pretty strange moments. It's difficult to figure out what's going down in the first scene, but it certainly seems like it's showing an elephant raping a woman, and the harsh textures, fuzzy and wobbly camera work, and grating music wouldn't exactly make the typical moviegoer feel like reaching into the popcorn bucket. The opening scene was definitely creepy enough to turn Jen off the film. As with Eraserhead, Lynch shows off an ability to create these amazing textures and moods with nothing more than images. I've never been to Victorian London (yet!), but I like the murky, sickly, melancholy one that Lynch creates for these characters to inhabit. What atmosphere! And the first shot of Merrick's distorted image is striking enough, but the shots of him covered (like in the above poster) stuck with me just as much. Gorgeous black and white cinematography here. Anthony Hopkins is quietly good as the torn Treves, and John Hurt's performance, although hidden beneath tons of make-up, is exceptionally touching. They'll get the most credit, of course, but Anne Bancroft and especially John Gielgud are also great. This is one of those movies that holds a mirror up to society. Unfortunately, humans kind of suck.

Special Note: R2-D2 (Kenny Baker) is in this which reminds me that David Lynch, according to David Lynch, turned down the chance to direct Return of the Jedi. That would have made the second time Lynch worked with Kenny Baker. And looking up Kenny Baker, I see that he played a character named Bruce Foreskin in something called Boobs in the Woods. So it's good to see that his career is going well.

The Birdman of Alcatraz

1962 bestiality epic

Rating: 14/20

Plot: Robert Stroud, our hero, is serving a life sentence at Leavenworth prison for killing somebody. While there, he has problems getting along with the guards and other cons, spends some time in solitary, and then kills a guard who was going to report him for getting too aggressive earlier. He's sentenced to die, but his mommy whines until he gets the sentence reduced to life in solitary. One day, he finds a new friend, an injured canary. This new buddy gets him interested in ornithology. He gets some more birds, builds some cages, gets Telly Savalas interested in ornithology, and becomes an expert in the field.

This is a heavily-fictionalized account of the real Robert Stroud. "Loosely-based" probably a strong enough, and I'm sure Stroud's family appreciates having their relative's history rewritten like this. But that's not my main problem with the film. My main problems are that it manages to be both too long and have a story that's undercooked. Things are also pretty flat, and it's just too much of a movie. I liked Burt Lancaster in this version of Stroud. The character's development isn't 100% believable, but Lancaster's able to go from violently apathetic to delicately nurturing in a believable way. I enjoyed seeing Savalas with some hair, and I also thought Karl Malden was good as the warden in this one. The film is weakened by Thelma Ritter's annoying performance as Stroud's mother. I also liked a lot of the shots of Lancaster's life in prison. The black and white photography's crisp, and at times I wished it was a little grittier. The birds, specifically the training involved in getting them to do what they do, really steal the show. All the scenes with the birds are wonderful, from the simple moment when Lancaster gets his bird friend to fly to his finger for the first time to the more complicated multi-fowl shots later on. An extended scene showing the birth of a bird (or maybe some sort of alien being) is also cool. This is hampered a bit with far too much narration (part of what makes it too movie-ish), but my favorite scene might be when the narrator briefly shifts to second person to describe life in solitary confinement.

The Pistol: The Birth of a Legend

1991 biopic

Rating: 9/20

Plot: A tall tale based on young Pete Maravich, a little guy with a big heart. He works hard, dribbling around his living room with a blindfold and practicing his father's basketball drills, until he winds up on starting for the varsity team as an 8th grader.

The only thing bigger than this kid's heart is the chunk of cheese the makers of this movie drop in your lap. Don't get me wrong; I appreciate the message behind the movie. But when a character actually said, "Pete, watching you makes me want to dream," I had to start giggling. It's cheese from the get-go as we open with a scene of an old Maravich conversing with his son or some other kid (something about dreaming, I think) while walking in an empty gymnasium. There's gratuitous patriotism; at one point, there's a completely random shot of an American flag. I think it's to remind the viewer about dreaming or something. There are also about five too many of those 1980s musical montage scenes. I thought the kid playing Maravich (Adam Guier) was great. He looked a little slow as he was making his moves, but you could tell he had some game when he was spinning the ball on his finger, making behind the back or head passes, and dribbling around. But enough's enough. I don't need to see another five minute montage with terrible music to show me how hard he works. I guess it was to show what a person should do when they have a dream or something. The very worst thing about this movie is the narration. Whenever the narrator says anything, it seems like he's interrupting. And it's completely unnecessary since whatever he says is usually repeated visually or through character dialogue right after he's finished talking anyway. I'm fairly sure that liberties were taken with the late Maravich's story, but there are a couple few scenes that would have really embarrassed him. There are probably some sweaters that would have embarrassed him, too. One scene involves young Pete (a little guy with a big heart) finally deciding to stand up to the bully, a comeback we've been waiting for the entire movie, when all he can say is, "You're a butthead." You're a butthead? Come on, Pistol Pete! A scene involving an intentional foul is so poorly done that it made half of the people I watched this with laugh. Somehow, he's knocked unconscious even though he didn't have an injury to the head. The head, as you probably know, is where dreams are kept. And the final scene? Whoa. I almost lost my lunch. The above poster has the same effect actually.

This was watched on the big screen at school with students. I forgot to ask them for their ratings. They're a bunch of buttheads anyway.

Walker

1987 satirical biopic

Rating: 14/20

Plot: American adventure-seeker William Walker is sent to Nicaragua by Cornelius Vanderbilt to spread a little democracy with his ragtag army of misfits dubbed The Immortals. Soon after, he declares himself the president of the country and ticks everybody off.

Frustratingly uneven stuff here. Director Alex Cox has no shortage of intriguing ideas, and there are some moments in this that are visually impressive. Add Joe Strummer's eclectic score, and you've got something that looks and sounds really good. Ed Harris gives an (intentionally?) over-the-top performance as the title character. The blood's exaggerated, there are numerous (intentional!) anachronisms, the supporting performances are really hammy, and the black comedy is chaotic. There's also a narrator who inexplicably shifts from first to third person and back again. There's a lot I liked though. This has the best version of "Moonlight Sonata" I've ever heard, one that sounds like it was recorded on broken instruments. There's also some bestiality and cannibalism, and a great scene where a guy laughs at a bird. Oh, and Peter Boyle's got some bitchin' sideburns in this one. It's a fun little movie, probably the most bizarre historical movie I've seen. Those anachronisms--watching cars speed by carriages, characters reading Time magazine, and a helicopter descend on the proceedings--are humorous, but they also help nail down the point. But after an hour and a half of this, I felt like I'd been squirted with too much satirical venom from Cox's multi-colored plastic squirt gun. Or bludgeoned with a plastic squirt gun, especially with the contemporary footage used over the closing credits. It's a ballsy but messy film, one that I can like more than laud.

Man on the Moon

1999 biopic

Rating: 15/20

Plot: The pointless career of criminally untalented but intriguing public annoyance Andy Kaufman.

This is very similar (same strengths, same flaws) to The People Vs. Larry Flynt, probably because they're both directed by Milos Forman. I like this movie despite not being all that impressed with Kaufman as a "comedian" or really as a human being. Ok, the second part of that might be a lie. Jim Carrey perfectly embodies Kaufman with the mannerisms, the voices, and the facial features, but after a while, it just seems like you're watching a two-hour impersonation instead of a fully realized movie. This movie actually seems to hit a wall at about the halfway mark, right around the time when Andy starts wrestling. From that point until another point, things drag, I think weakening a lot of the impact that the movie's ending could have. I'm not sure why there was so much of a focus on the wrestling when a lot of the other stuff seemed pretty quickly skimmed over. Aside from Carrey, the other performances (DeVito, Giammati) are really good, and it's fun to see reconstructions of a few of the "highlights" of Kaufman's career.

Edvard Munch

1974 superlative film

Rating: 16/20

Plot: The life of artist Edvard Munch, from when he bled from the mouth as a child to when he got it on with a cougar to when he accidentally bought too much red paint and had to use too much of the color in his work during what later was known as his "angry red stage."

Pretty impressive multi-genre pseudo-documentary. It combines narrative, voiceover narration, diary excerpts, art critique, and (oddly) interviews in a way which succeeds in creating Munch the person and setting a context with late-19th century Europe. This is very long, maybe even too long, and definitely not for the ADD crowd. Chunks are very very slow, but I like the way the narrative swirls in and out of itself, repeating images and connecting his artwork to both his life and what was happening culturally. The scenes where Munch worked (in various styles) were really well done.

W.

2008 Oliver Stone joint

Rating: 13/20

Plot: The high points of George W. Bush's personal life and political career.

This has a tendency to linger and is guilty too often of going for the cheap and obvious (i.e. famous Bushisms). I also question the timing of something like this. However, it's a fascinating two-hour romp, filled with moments of genuine humor and absolute horror. The acting, or impersonations, is very good. Brolin brings a Bush character to life in a way that makes you appreciate him as a flawed human being while at the same time wanting to catch him on fire. Richard Dreyfuss is amazing as Cheney and probably deserved a nomination or at least an offer to do a couple sketches on Saturday Night Live. I also really liked James Cromwell as W.'s dad. The woman who plays Condoleeza Rice is terrible though. I also hated the music in this movie.

The People vs. Larry Flynt

1996 biopic

Rating: 15/20

Plot: Larry Flynt, a true American hero, struggles for his right to free speech (i.e. naked people, the slander of religious leaders) while the conservatives, those enemies of freedom and democracy, fight him every step of the way, practically setting fire to your Constitution and your flag and stomping all over them. The story also details the struggles of Flynt's wife, Ginavah McDruguser, and her downward spiral.

With friends like Crispin "Hellion" Glover and Courtney Love, who needs enemas? First off, this is an entertaining and sprawling glimpse at the life of Flynt and brings up some important issues about what constitutes free speech. It's a dialogue starter. It's not without problems and the overt propaganda might be one of them. The loose structure and sketchy details might be other problems. The acting is very good straight up and down the cast list. Woody's great, and Courtney Love shows a lot of flexibility in her role as a strung-out skank. She's so good that you can practically smell her through the screen. What a stretch that must have been for her! Crispin Glover, as always, is fantastic, and Ed Norton, playing really the only character who is likable, is solid. The entire movie is fairly effective despite its density and extraneous wanderings. Very similar to Forman's later Man on the Moon, another biopic that I liked even though I had almost no interest or opinion on the subject matter.