Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
A sensible review...
...of Gone With the Wind. I came across this on Amazon today and thought it made some good points.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Smell that? It's "The Women"
Thank you, Radar Online, for this handy summary of bad reviews. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
(I don't think I've felt this strongly about a movie since Blues Brothers 2000, or as I like to call it, That Sound You Hear Is John Belushi Spinning In His Grave.)
(I don't think I've felt this strongly about a movie since Blues Brothers 2000, or as I like to call it, That Sound You Hear Is John Belushi Spinning In His Grave.)
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Essential? Hardly!
Joan Crawford: The Essential Biography by William Schoell and Lawrence Quirk
Rating: 1 out of 5 stars
The main problem with this book can be summed up by quoting its own dust jacket: "Schoell and Quirk [the authors] move beyond the myths and misconceptions about Crawford by looking extensively at her film work, which in many respects -- as Crawford herself admitted -- was her life."
And that's it right there: as admirable an actress as Crawford may have been (and I am a huge fan of many her performances), her roles in films cannot provide much of a basis for a biography about her actual life. The line between fantasy and reality is, in this case, not only blurred, but erased almost completely.
I understand that Quirk was a fan and professed confidant of Crawford's (that fact is hard to miss, it's mentioned so many times) and his intentions seem to be to try his best to defend her honor and reveal his version of the truth about her. In doing so, however, Quirk makes several missteps, the most notable among them being his complete and utter of savaging of Christina Crawford because of her allegations of abuse against her mother. He says terrible things; for example, he expresses his opinion that Christina's near fatal stroke in 1981 was "Joan getting revenge beyond the grave." For someone who thinks Christina was wrong to say bad things about her mother, Quirk in turn says even worse things about Christina. In trying to dispute the charges she made in "Mommie Dearest," he protests way, way too much, and stoops even lower than the level he accuses her of sinking to.
Even other friends of Crawford's are criticized for not living up to his exacting standards. For example, in 1984 about 125 friends and family of Crawford took out a tribute ad in the "Daily Variety" to show their support in the wake of the Mommie book and movie. I thought it was a nice gesture, myself, but Quirk says that it was "put together for the wrong reasons by the wrong people." What really seems to be wrong is the fact that he wasn't included, and now he's pouting.
When I got to the "Notes" section at the end of the book, I thought, "okay, now we'll see where he got all this information." I was disappointed to discover that the majority of his sources are "Joan Crawford to Lawrence Quirk." Interviewing the subject of a biography is of course helpful when it's possible to do, but any writer worth his salt knows that it can't be your only, or even your primary, source. People have an impression of themselves they want to perpetuate; this needs to be balanced by opinions and information from others as well. In that regard, this book falls far short.
Rating: 1 out of 5 stars
The main problem with this book can be summed up by quoting its own dust jacket: "Schoell and Quirk [the authors] move beyond the myths and misconceptions about Crawford by looking extensively at her film work, which in many respects -- as Crawford herself admitted -- was her life."
And that's it right there: as admirable an actress as Crawford may have been (and I am a huge fan of many her performances), her roles in films cannot provide much of a basis for a biography about her actual life. The line between fantasy and reality is, in this case, not only blurred, but erased almost completely.
I understand that Quirk was a fan and professed confidant of Crawford's (that fact is hard to miss, it's mentioned so many times) and his intentions seem to be to try his best to defend her honor and reveal his version of the truth about her. In doing so, however, Quirk makes several missteps, the most notable among them being his complete and utter of savaging of Christina Crawford because of her allegations of abuse against her mother. He says terrible things; for example, he expresses his opinion that Christina's near fatal stroke in 1981 was "Joan getting revenge beyond the grave." For someone who thinks Christina was wrong to say bad things about her mother, Quirk in turn says even worse things about Christina. In trying to dispute the charges she made in "Mommie Dearest," he protests way, way too much, and stoops even lower than the level he accuses her of sinking to.
Even other friends of Crawford's are criticized for not living up to his exacting standards. For example, in 1984 about 125 friends and family of Crawford took out a tribute ad in the "Daily Variety" to show their support in the wake of the Mommie book and movie. I thought it was a nice gesture, myself, but Quirk says that it was "put together for the wrong reasons by the wrong people." What really seems to be wrong is the fact that he wasn't included, and now he's pouting.
When I got to the "Notes" section at the end of the book, I thought, "okay, now we'll see where he got all this information." I was disappointed to discover that the majority of his sources are "Joan Crawford to Lawrence Quirk." Interviewing the subject of a biography is of course helpful when it's possible to do, but any writer worth his salt knows that it can't be your only, or even your primary, source. People have an impression of themselves they want to perpetuate; this needs to be balanced by opinions and information from others as well. In that regard, this book falls far short.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Misleading, but still worthwhile
The Lost Films of Laurel & Hardy Volume 3
starring Oliver Hardy, Stan Laurel, Jimmy Finlayson, Mae Busch, Charley Chase,
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
I think calling this DVD "Lost Films of Laurel & Hardy" is somewhat misleading, because only 3 out of the 6 shorts feature the boys as the pair that most fans are familiar with.
Love 'Em And Weep, for example, has Oliver Hardy, buried under a thick mustache, in a small role as a dinner guest of Jimmy Finlayson, and Stan Laurel as one of Jimmy's employees; the two never meet in the film. In another short, Bromo and Juliet, Hardy shows up for a few minutes as a taxi driver.
In addition, the picture quality is not always good, but that's to be expected in films so old. Also, the same soundtrack is used over and over, which can get a little monotonous after awhile.
Depsite the fact that this DVD wasn't exactly what I expected, however, I still enjoyed it. It was interesting to see Laurel & Hardy in roles other than "the boys" and the rest of the casts (Charley Chase, Mae Busch, Vivian Oakland, to name a few) gave hilarious performances. I recommend it to fans of Laurel & Hardy (and other silent stars as well), but be aware that not all the films may be what you might have expected.
starring Oliver Hardy, Stan Laurel, Jimmy Finlayson, Mae Busch, Charley Chase,
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
I think calling this DVD "Lost Films of Laurel & Hardy" is somewhat misleading, because only 3 out of the 6 shorts feature the boys as the pair that most fans are familiar with.
Love 'Em And Weep, for example, has Oliver Hardy, buried under a thick mustache, in a small role as a dinner guest of Jimmy Finlayson, and Stan Laurel as one of Jimmy's employees; the two never meet in the film. In another short, Bromo and Juliet, Hardy shows up for a few minutes as a taxi driver.
In addition, the picture quality is not always good, but that's to be expected in films so old. Also, the same soundtrack is used over and over, which can get a little monotonous after awhile.
Depsite the fact that this DVD wasn't exactly what I expected, however, I still enjoyed it. It was interesting to see Laurel & Hardy in roles other than "the boys" and the rest of the casts (Charley Chase, Mae Busch, Vivian Oakland, to name a few) gave hilarious performances. I recommend it to fans of Laurel & Hardy (and other silent stars as well), but be aware that not all the films may be what you might have expected.
Monday, April 04, 2005
My eyes! Oh, it burns!
RKO 281: The Battle Over Citizen Kane
starring Liev Schrieber, John Malkovich, James Cromwell, Melanie Griffith, David Suchet
Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
Okay, maybe it's not that bad, but it's close. I went into this movie with a lot of anticipation, being a long-time fan of Welles and Citizen Kane, but my hopes were crushed by the mediocre acting, blatant inaccuracies (yes, I know it's a movie, but a movie about a real situation shouldn't have quite so much make believe) and overdramatics. For instance, that scene where Welles talks Mankiewicz into coming back on Kane by telling that sob story about his father? Feh. Not even close to believable.
Liev Schrieber is, sadly, typecast (at least in my mind) as the might-be-a-killer, Cotton Weary, from the Scream films. I tried not to hold that against him, but his performance as Welles was so unconvincing that it kept coming to mind. Welles was such an unusual and magnetic personality, with his deep, distinctive voice, that it's hard to imagine any actor playing him well. Vincent D'Onofrio gave a better performance in Ed Wood as Welles than Schrieber can manage here. Not to say his acting was bad, mind you, but just that I didn't for a moment have any kind of feeling that it was Orson Welles. The yelling and screaming about how Kane is all he's got seemed so phony. Unfortunately, that was about the most exciting thing about the role.
That is only one of the reasons, however, why it was impossible to enjoy the movie. Melanie Griffith was so bad as Marion Davies, I can hardly put it into words. I'm sure poor Miss Davies is spinning like a top in her grave. John Malkovich gets some good lines as Herman Mankiewicz; he's at his best when trying to talk Welles out of making Kane. James Cromwell does a creditable job as William Randolph Hearst, and the scenes between Hearst and Marion could have been really quite touching if it weren't for Melanie and her enormous hot pink lips. Ech.
For serious Welles fans and film historians, or even those with only a casual interest, you are much better off watching the documentary The Battle Over Citizen Kane than trying to get the "making of Kane" story from this film.
starring Liev Schrieber, John Malkovich, James Cromwell, Melanie Griffith, David Suchet
Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
Okay, maybe it's not that bad, but it's close. I went into this movie with a lot of anticipation, being a long-time fan of Welles and Citizen Kane, but my hopes were crushed by the mediocre acting, blatant inaccuracies (yes, I know it's a movie, but a movie about a real situation shouldn't have quite so much make believe) and overdramatics. For instance, that scene where Welles talks Mankiewicz into coming back on Kane by telling that sob story about his father? Feh. Not even close to believable.
Liev Schrieber is, sadly, typecast (at least in my mind) as the might-be-a-killer, Cotton Weary, from the Scream films. I tried not to hold that against him, but his performance as Welles was so unconvincing that it kept coming to mind. Welles was such an unusual and magnetic personality, with his deep, distinctive voice, that it's hard to imagine any actor playing him well. Vincent D'Onofrio gave a better performance in Ed Wood as Welles than Schrieber can manage here. Not to say his acting was bad, mind you, but just that I didn't for a moment have any kind of feeling that it was Orson Welles. The yelling and screaming about how Kane is all he's got seemed so phony. Unfortunately, that was about the most exciting thing about the role.
That is only one of the reasons, however, why it was impossible to enjoy the movie. Melanie Griffith was so bad as Marion Davies, I can hardly put it into words. I'm sure poor Miss Davies is spinning like a top in her grave. John Malkovich gets some good lines as Herman Mankiewicz; he's at his best when trying to talk Welles out of making Kane. James Cromwell does a creditable job as William Randolph Hearst, and the scenes between Hearst and Marion could have been really quite touching if it weren't for Melanie and her enormous hot pink lips. Ech.
For serious Welles fans and film historians, or even those with only a casual interest, you are much better off watching the documentary The Battle Over Citizen Kane than trying to get the "making of Kane" story from this film.
Tries to be avant garde, ends up just pretentious
Rosebud: The Story of Orson Welles, by David Thomson
Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
I was so looking forward to reading it, but it turned out to be not at all what I expected. Perhaps I'm too used to a more conventional style of biography, but I found Rosebud hard to get through. As fascinating a person as Orson Welles was, parts of this book were still slow going. The author constantly interrupts the narrative with "dialogues" between himself and...himself? The publisher? An imaginary reader? It's hard to say, and seems to be used mostly to insert his own presence into the biography.
Other unnecessary bits include a whole chapter of this dialogue between the author and his imaginary friend as they watch the first few minutes of Citizen Kane, and another entire chapter about how the author became a fan of Welles. This is supposed to be a biography of Orson Welles, not a book about how David Thomson feels about Orson Welles, and how Thomson has taught Citizen Kane in his class for years, blah blah blah. Every time Welles' own story gets interesting, Thomson pops up to remind you he's there. Ideally, a reader shouldn't be bombarded with the presence of the author in a biography.
There is some interesting information, but the book as a whole is not put together well at all.
Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
I was so looking forward to reading it, but it turned out to be not at all what I expected. Perhaps I'm too used to a more conventional style of biography, but I found Rosebud hard to get through. As fascinating a person as Orson Welles was, parts of this book were still slow going. The author constantly interrupts the narrative with "dialogues" between himself and...himself? The publisher? An imaginary reader? It's hard to say, and seems to be used mostly to insert his own presence into the biography.
Other unnecessary bits include a whole chapter of this dialogue between the author and his imaginary friend as they watch the first few minutes of Citizen Kane, and another entire chapter about how the author became a fan of Welles. This is supposed to be a biography of Orson Welles, not a book about how David Thomson feels about Orson Welles, and how Thomson has taught Citizen Kane in his class for years, blah blah blah. Every time Welles' own story gets interesting, Thomson pops up to remind you he's there. Ideally, a reader shouldn't be bombarded with the presence of the author in a biography.
There is some interesting information, but the book as a whole is not put together well at all.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Powerful drama whose ending does not quite do it justice
The Lost Weekend (1945)
starring Ray Milland, Jane Wyman, Phillip Terry
Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
I can understand why the studio did not want to release The Lost Weekend in 1945: it's a gritty and realistic (sometimes horrifyingly so) account of an alcoholic's weekend binge. Going against years of movies that portrayed drunkeness as something cute and harmless, this movie pulls no punches in illustrating to what depths a man will stoop when he just has to have a drink.
There's a story told about the filming of LW, in which another of Ray Milland's on-the-street takes were ruined when someone recognized him. Instead of asking for his autograph, though, the woman offered to bring him back to her apartment for a drink. She didn't believe him when he said he was making a movie about a drunk; she thought the actor was down on his luck and really was a drunk. Billy Wilder came out from behind the hidden camera and finally set her straight. This is a good illustration of the power of Milland's performance; his work is quite extraordinary. Jane Wyman as his girlfriend Helen does a good job with a small role, as does Phillip Terry as Don's brother Wick.
While the drama of the movie moves along at a fevered pitch, it really starts to build to a level of unbearable tension when Helen goes to retrieve her coat (which Don has stolen) from the pawnbroker, only to discover Don didn't trade it for money for booze, but rather a gun he had pawned earlier. After his earlier talk of putting a bullet through his head, the audience and Helen realize at the same time what his intentions are, and we find ourselves as anxious as Helen as she races back to his apartment. She gets there in time, and the two play a game of cat and mouse, warily stepping around each other as he tries to get her to leave, and she tries to get to the gun first.
After winding things up so tightly, though, the movie ends with an anti-climax: Helen gives Don her same old inspirational speech about his having the talent to make a go of it as a writer, and suddenly, this time he believes her, vowing once again (and we're to assume that this time it took) to give up drinking and make something of himself. He gives us a pat little explanation of his alcoholism, and ends by saying gee, he feels sorry for all those other drunks out in NYC that think they're fooling everyone. Fade to black.
I realize this is a typical Hollywood ending of the time, with everything working out okay, but I felt cheated. I had been so captivated by this true to life story, with nothing glossed over, that the ending didn't ring true at all. Strange as it may sound, I think I would have almost preferred Don to put a bullet in his head. It would have felt much more realistic than him basically saying, "You're right Helen, I will stop drinking and write that book," and with a snap of the fingers, put his drunken ways behind him.
This is my only complaint about the movie, and it is an extremely small one; don't let my thoughts about the ending stop you from watching this film. It is an astonishing movie even in this day and age, even more so when you consider it was made 60 years ago.
starring Ray Milland, Jane Wyman, Phillip Terry
Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
I can understand why the studio did not want to release The Lost Weekend in 1945: it's a gritty and realistic (sometimes horrifyingly so) account of an alcoholic's weekend binge. Going against years of movies that portrayed drunkeness as something cute and harmless, this movie pulls no punches in illustrating to what depths a man will stoop when he just has to have a drink.
There's a story told about the filming of LW, in which another of Ray Milland's on-the-street takes were ruined when someone recognized him. Instead of asking for his autograph, though, the woman offered to bring him back to her apartment for a drink. She didn't believe him when he said he was making a movie about a drunk; she thought the actor was down on his luck and really was a drunk. Billy Wilder came out from behind the hidden camera and finally set her straight. This is a good illustration of the power of Milland's performance; his work is quite extraordinary. Jane Wyman as his girlfriend Helen does a good job with a small role, as does Phillip Terry as Don's brother Wick.
While the drama of the movie moves along at a fevered pitch, it really starts to build to a level of unbearable tension when Helen goes to retrieve her coat (which Don has stolen) from the pawnbroker, only to discover Don didn't trade it for money for booze, but rather a gun he had pawned earlier. After his earlier talk of putting a bullet through his head, the audience and Helen realize at the same time what his intentions are, and we find ourselves as anxious as Helen as she races back to his apartment. She gets there in time, and the two play a game of cat and mouse, warily stepping around each other as he tries to get her to leave, and she tries to get to the gun first.
After winding things up so tightly, though, the movie ends with an anti-climax: Helen gives Don her same old inspirational speech about his having the talent to make a go of it as a writer, and suddenly, this time he believes her, vowing once again (and we're to assume that this time it took) to give up drinking and make something of himself. He gives us a pat little explanation of his alcoholism, and ends by saying gee, he feels sorry for all those other drunks out in NYC that think they're fooling everyone. Fade to black.
I realize this is a typical Hollywood ending of the time, with everything working out okay, but I felt cheated. I had been so captivated by this true to life story, with nothing glossed over, that the ending didn't ring true at all. Strange as it may sound, I think I would have almost preferred Don to put a bullet in his head. It would have felt much more realistic than him basically saying, "You're right Helen, I will stop drinking and write that book," and with a snap of the fingers, put his drunken ways behind him.
This is my only complaint about the movie, and it is an extremely small one; don't let my thoughts about the ending stop you from watching this film. It is an astonishing movie even in this day and age, even more so when you consider it was made 60 years ago.
The best laid plans...
Sudden Fear (1952)
starring Joan Crawford, Jack Palance, Gloria Grahame
Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
Joan Crawford chews the scenery, Jack Palance looks ugly and menacing, and Gloria Grahame slinks around in this fabulous film noir. Crawford is a wealthy socialite and playwright who marries Palance, an actor she had previously rejected from one of her plays. Turns out he has a girlfriend (Grahame) and they're plotting to murder Joan for her money. Joan finds out and decides to beat them to the punch (so to speak) by hatching a plan to murder her husband first and frame his lover for the crime, complete with a little dream sequence showing the audience how it's supposed to turn out. In the middle of the plan, however, Joan loses her nerve ... and that's when things get really interesting. The suspense starts about halfway through the film, when Joan discovers the plot against her, but the last ten minutes of the film dials up it a few levels. A must for any fan of Crawford and/or film noir.
starring Joan Crawford, Jack Palance, Gloria Grahame
Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
Joan Crawford chews the scenery, Jack Palance looks ugly and menacing, and Gloria Grahame slinks around in this fabulous film noir. Crawford is a wealthy socialite and playwright who marries Palance, an actor she had previously rejected from one of her plays. Turns out he has a girlfriend (Grahame) and they're plotting to murder Joan for her money. Joan finds out and decides to beat them to the punch (so to speak) by hatching a plan to murder her husband first and frame his lover for the crime, complete with a little dream sequence showing the audience how it's supposed to turn out. In the middle of the plan, however, Joan loses her nerve ... and that's when things get really interesting. The suspense starts about halfway through the film, when Joan discovers the plot against her, but the last ten minutes of the film dials up it a few levels. A must for any fan of Crawford and/or film noir.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Painful to watch, for a variety of reasons
(Before I begin, I'll admit that many of the movie reviews that will be posted here have been previously posted on Amazon. I'm going to bring them over bit by bit.)
Reckless (1935)
starring Jean Harlow, William Powell, Franchot Tone, May Robson, Nat Pendleton, Ted Healy.
Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
This picture seems especially designed to torture Jean Harlow, and to a lesser extent, her fans.
Her character Mona Leslie marries unstable alcoholic playboy Bob Harrsion (disturbingly well played by Franchot Tone -- he's like "The Lost Weekend" without the happy ending), whose "sadness goes so deep I couldn't make him happy," and he shoots himself in the head while Mona and her friend/manager Ned (William Powell) are in the next room.
Whoever had the idea to put Harlow in such a role shortly after the suicide by gunshot of her husband Paul Bern must have been extraordinarily cruel, or stupid, or both (David O. Selznick, I'm looking in your direction). Mona is left alone to struggle for custody of, then to raise, her son by Harrison; in real life, all of Jean's pregnancies were teminated at her mother's insistence.
In another kind of irony, Ned is secretly in love with Mona and proposes to her at the end of the movie; in real life, Harlow and Powell were lovers and she was desparate to marry him, but he strung her along until her death, unwilling to commit.
The musical numbers of the film inadvertantly become another harsh treatment of Harlow, as it become painfully obvious that she can neither sing (it's dubbed, and it's not even close to Harlow's real voice) nor dance (despite attempts at trick photography, the double is easy to spot), and to Jean's credit, she seems to know it, seeming very stiff and uncomfortable during these parts of the film.
I guess my knowledge of Harlow's life (via David Stenn's biography) made this movie seem so depressing to me; perhaps someone who's a fan of Harlow's but doesn't know much about her personally would enjoy it more. I doubt it, though; its only saving grace is some of the amusing banter between Ned and Mona's Granny (May Robson).
Reckless (1935)
starring Jean Harlow, William Powell, Franchot Tone, May Robson, Nat Pendleton, Ted Healy.
Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
This picture seems especially designed to torture Jean Harlow, and to a lesser extent, her fans.
Her character Mona Leslie marries unstable alcoholic playboy Bob Harrsion (disturbingly well played by Franchot Tone -- he's like "The Lost Weekend" without the happy ending), whose "sadness goes so deep I couldn't make him happy," and he shoots himself in the head while Mona and her friend/manager Ned (William Powell) are in the next room.
Whoever had the idea to put Harlow in such a role shortly after the suicide by gunshot of her husband Paul Bern must have been extraordinarily cruel, or stupid, or both (David O. Selznick, I'm looking in your direction). Mona is left alone to struggle for custody of, then to raise, her son by Harrison; in real life, all of Jean's pregnancies were teminated at her mother's insistence.
In another kind of irony, Ned is secretly in love with Mona and proposes to her at the end of the movie; in real life, Harlow and Powell were lovers and she was desparate to marry him, but he strung her along until her death, unwilling to commit.
The musical numbers of the film inadvertantly become another harsh treatment of Harlow, as it become painfully obvious that she can neither sing (it's dubbed, and it's not even close to Harlow's real voice) nor dance (despite attempts at trick photography, the double is easy to spot), and to Jean's credit, she seems to know it, seeming very stiff and uncomfortable during these parts of the film.
I guess my knowledge of Harlow's life (via David Stenn's biography) made this movie seem so depressing to me; perhaps someone who's a fan of Harlow's but doesn't know much about her personally would enjoy it more. I doubt it, though; its only saving grace is some of the amusing banter between Ned and Mona's Granny (May Robson).
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