I love a good western. It is the quintessential American genre. A
portrait of ourselves at both our most noble and most despicable. A
genre of selfless heroes and terrible villains. A showcase of the
American landscape, as seen by the men and women who first braved to
cross it - full of wonder and awe.
There is no better western than The Searchers.
Sixty
years ago this year, The Searchers made its debut and forever changed
the western - even though it was tepidly received upon its initial
release. Today it is revered by casual filmgoers, critics, and
filmmakers alike as one of the most important films of all time. It is
one of director John Ford's best films and arguably star John Wayne's
best performance of his career.
The film follows a former
Confederate soldier, Ethan Edwards (John Wayne), and his kinsman, Martin
Pauley (Jeffrey Hunter), as they brave obstacles (natural and
unnatural) and the slow passage of time to attempt to find a member of
their family kidnapped by the Comanche Indians. The journey becomes an
unhealthy obsession, as Ethan's quest to find his niece, Debbie, slowly
devolves into vengeance-fueled madness.
The Searchers has
influenced many filmmakers in the six decades since its debut. Legendary
director Martin Scorsese has often cited The Searchers as one of his
favorites and has talked extensively about the film. Its staying power
is derived from its themes and characterizations. The film has a lot to
say about thematic concepts that are just as relevant to today's world.
The Picturesque West of John Ford
With
each of his films I see, John Ford becomes, more and more, one of my
favorite directors. His instincts on camera placement, movement, and
focus are amazing. Ford really cemented his place in cinema history as
being the vision of the west that most movie audiences picture in their
minds.
The Searchers was filmed almost entirely in Monument
Valley, located in both Arizona and Utah. It was a favorite filming
location of Ford's, as it became a background to many of his films. When
modern moviegoers think of the west, it is most likely via Monument
Valley and Ford's lens. In fact, the most modern western film (that I've
seen) to utilize Monument Valley was the most recent version of The
Lone Ranger in 2013.
Women-in-The-SearchersThere is really no bad
shot in The Searchers. Each frame could be hung up as a painting. The
stoic buttes, the sandy monoliths of Monument Valley, stand as a
constant in the backgrounds, displaying God's awesome artistry of the
land. The greenery of the valley floor gives those wide shots splotches
of mixed colors that are appealing. And that sky - most of the shots are
almost two-thirds deep blue with wispy clouds. Simply beautiful.
But
the scenery does more than look pretty. Through the eyes of Ford, the
land evokes emotion that transfers to the audience. Both the Edwards and
Jorgensen homesteads are solitary, almost enveloped by the valley.
There are no towns visited as part of the story, just lonely outposts of
civilization. Not only does this invoke feelings of the hard-scrabble
life of the frontier and the rugged individualism of the American West;
there is also a loneliness to it that carries itself through the entire
picture, creating a visual theme.
The visuals of The Searchers
also offer a sort of poetry, the most famous being the first and last
shots of the film. The movie opens and closes, literally, with a door.
This provides the audience with a window into the expansive wilderness
and a way back into the sanctity of the home.
The Western Grows Up
john-fordBeing
a "pioneer" of the western film genre, John Ford was there at its very
beginning. His early films reflected a more simple, romantic look at the
wild west. In movies like Ford's Stagecoach (1939), the heroes were
gruff but had hearts of gold and the villainous Native Americans were
one-dimensional. The world was very black and white.
By the time
The Searchers came along, Ford was venturing into new territory. The
western was now turning shades of grey. There was more honesty to the
stories and more layers to the characters. It was a gradual turn,
though. Part of Ford's brilliance with this film is his use of common
western tropes of the time and giving them a new twist to ease into the
darker nature of the story.
The music, written by celebrated
composer Max Steiner, is a classic example of a typical western trope.
Steiner was known for his sweeping, epic scores to films like King Kong,
Casablanca, and Gone with the Wind. The score of The Searchers is no
different - using epic phrasing and leitmotifs to make the viewer feel
at home in a western. It was an aural framework into which Ford could
weave his story.
Steiner's score is also littered with popular
tunes of the Civil War era (the film takes place three years after the
war's end) like "Bonnie Blue Flag" and "Lorena." "Lorena" is especially
poignant, as it was very popular on both sides of the conflict,
reminding the men of loved ones and home.
roy-rogers-e-sons-of-the-pioneers-otimaThe
presence of The Sons of the Pioneers to the musical makeup of The
Searchers is not to be taken lightly. The Sons of the Pioneers were very
popular for their cheery, harmonious country singing, and are most
famous as a supporting group for Roy Rogers - probably one of the most
famous romanticized, "old school" cowboys ever. To include them was also
a nod to what had come before, creating a melodic irony in the title
song.
But Ford's biggest trope turnaround was that of the western
leading man. With Ethan Edwards, Ford gave star John Wayne one of his
most complex characters, and probably his best performance. Ford knew
how to use the Duke better than any other director. Just as James
Cameron did with Arnold Schwarzenegger, Ford utilized Wayne's strengths
as an actor to maximum effect. Anyone who believes John Wayne was not
much of an actor has clearly never really studied The Searchers.
Ford
actually made John Wayne a star back in 1939 with Stagecoach. There the
Duke was the prototypical western hero - an outlaw, but an honorable
one. It was a reflection of the simpler times mentioned above. Wayne's
swagger and charisma soon catapulted him into iconic status. Now people
around the world would think of the Duke when they pictured the rugged
American cowboy.
In The Searchers, Ford uses Wayne's heroic persona to catch the audience
off guard - making the emotional impact of events taking place much
more resonant. The normally fearless Duke is brought to his knees many
times at the off-screen sight and recollection of his raped and murdered
kin.
Martin Scorsese recalled that seeing Wayne visibly
distraught made him imagine what was offscreen had to be absolutely
horrible, more so than anything that could have actually been shown
onscreen. Indeed the imagination can be much more terrifying.
Relating
the notion of changing tropes to Ethan, it's interesting that the
dynamic between Ethan and Martin is a role reversal - the older, wiser
man usually imparts good judgement and humility on to the brash and
haughty younger man in the typical western. In The Searchers, however,
the younger Martin is the one with common sense and reminds Ethan of his
humanity.
Searching for Vengeance
"What makes a man wander? What makes a man roam? What makes a man leave his bed and board, and turn his back on home?"
The
Ethan Edwards character himself is a personification of John Ford's
"new old west." He is a deeply flawed man consumed by vengeance and
hatred - the center of the film's moral questions.
At the
beginning of the film's search, Ethan's motives for finding Debbie are
harder to decipher. We assume that his intentions are noble as a
bi-product of seeing the form of John Wayne. But as the search goes on,
it becomes clearer that he is on a quest to wreak vengeance on the
Comanche, simply for being Comanche. In Ethan's mind, being Comanche is
not being human.
Ethan's hatred of the Comanche extends even
beyond death. Early in the film, Ethan and his posse stumble upon a dead
Comanche from the raid that killed his brother Aaron and his family.
As
Scorsese has pointed out, Ethan is not content to let the dead Comanche
rest in peace. He must make sure this dead Indian wanders and suffers
forever. The satisfaction in his face as he shoots out the dead man's
eyes is disturbing, and Ethan's comrades, particularly Reverend Clayton,
don't take too kindly to it.
The name he gives Martin at the end
of that scene ("blankethead") is also a manifestation of his racism.
Martin is part Native American, and Ethan spends most of the film
denying Martin as his kin - despite being raised by Ethan's brother as a
son.
With Ethan's demeanor, Ford wrestles with the truth that
both the settlers and Native Americans could be both noble and cruel - a
fact of our own sin nature. There is no "noble savage" here, nor is
there a wholesome settler, either. Even the settler women like Laurie
Jorgensen (Vera Miles) exhibit racist tendencies, like when she told
Martin that Debbie's mother would have wanted Ethan to kill Debbie after
she had been with the Comanche for so long.
Granted that the
Comanche, particularly the chief Scar, are indeed awful in their
treatment of the settlers, and there is no justification for the
violence against the women and children. However, both Scar and Ethan
share their penchant for revenge. Scar's entire reason for raiding the
Edwards homestead and murdering Ethan's kin was vengeance for the deaths
of his sons. It's a terrible cycle of violence that will not end until
one or both of them are dead.
John-Wayne-in-The-Searchers"A man
will search his heart and soul, go searchin' way out there. His peace of
mind he know's he'll find. But where, of Lord, Lord where?"
Ethan's
quest for hate and revenge is one of the finest cinematic examples of
what such feelings to do one's soul, as well as the physical
consequences.
Tuesday, January 30, 2001
Monday, January 29, 2001
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962) review
One of the things I love about the Western genre is that it is the only
genre to which America can really hold claim. There were of course,
non-American efforts in this genre; I myself after all have long
championed the films of Sergio Leone and several other Spaghetti Western
filmmakers. But at its very core, the genre is American and therefore
speaks to America and the American experience in a way no other genre
really can. Such is the case with The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, a
film that may rank in my estimation to be the very best American Western
ever made and a film that speaks profoundly on many subjects, most
notably the tendency to mythicize the American Old West, both in
history, but particularly on film and also on the very nature on the
rise of the liberal American order. The film is also astonishingly
well-made and stands as a monument to John Ford and the Western genre he
helped create, but at the same time is able to look back honestly at
both and see a good deal of mythmaking. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
tells the story of Ranson Stoddard (Jimmy Stewart), a United States
Senator who returns to the town of Shinbone in a unnamed Western state
to attend the funeral of Tom Doniphon (John Wayne), a local rancher.
The local media is intrigued as to why such a prominent man is traveling so far to attend the funeral of what they see as an unimportant rancher. In flashback however, Ranson tells the story of back when he was a young lawyer from back east and Shinbone was a small dot of a town in a United States territory, rather than in a state. He comes to the town to discover that it is under the grip of a ruthless outlaw named Liberty Valance (Lee Marvin) and his gang. Ranson wants Liberty Valance to be arrested, but Tom reminds him that unlike in the East, in small towns in the territories, the law is useless and thus a man must learn to defend himself, and advises Ranson to bring a gun. It is an idea that Ranson balks at, seeing that law, order, and education must prevail against frontier violence, though he does eventually comply. And living up to these values, Ranson opens up a school to increase the education standards of the town and even begins to work to get statehood for the territory. While working to gain statehood, Liberty Valance and his gang begin to become even more ruthless, an event that cumulates in one night when Liberty Valance begins to threaten Ranson and Ranson shoots him in self-defense. But as it turns out, it was not Ranson, but Tom to shot Liberty. Tom though opts to tell no one, save for Ranson himself, and advises him to do the same. Ranson thus can be known as "The man who shot Liberty Valance" and using his newfound fame, is the overwhelming favorite to be shoes for the delegation for statehood, which he is eventually able to use as a jumping off point for a long career in the United States Senate. The movie then flashes forward in time, where, upon learning the truth, the local media rips up the story and refuses to publish it, because, as the newspaper man says, "This is the West sir, when legend become fact, print the legend."
As just purely an exercise in filmmaking, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is remarkable. The acting is great, from both the leads and the supporting cast. John Ford's signature directorial style is very pronounced in this, and the film just simply looks great. The film also boasts a highly intelligent script from James Warner Bellah and Willis Goldbeck. It has all the elements therefore, of a film that is at least good on a technical level. But there is more going on here than this, and because if this, the film is able to become something more, transcending into the best Western ever made by an American and what might be not only the best statement on the nature of the Western both as a genre and the place of the Old West in American history, but it also serves as a critique of liberal naivety and of Great Man Theory.
What stands out immediately about The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is how it is shot. You see, the film is shot in black and white, something that was very rare for a major director such as Ford working with major actors to do in 1962. By shooting the film in black and white, Ford harkens back to an earlier film he made with Wayne, Stagecoach from 1939. Now in addition to being one of the great Westerns, Stagecoach is historically important as it was not only the film to put Wayne on the map as a major star, it was also the film that transformed the Western into an art, as before the genre was considered a cheap and disreputable genre made for the entertainment of the masses. With Stagecoach and his other films, Ford was able to more than any other single man, even the great Howard Hawks, to codify how Americans viewed the Old West. With The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance however, Ford takes a look at the myth he helped create and conclude that yes, it is a myth as the actual history of the Old West is far more complicated. It is also interesting to note that this film was made in 1962, just as the Western genre was going through some significant changes. After being an easy way to print money for years, the genre was beginning to decline in popularity, at least in the Unites States. And while the genre would enjoy a resurgence in popularity in the coming years, the genre would look far different. Two years later, a young Italian director named Sergio Leone would make A Fistful of Dollars, a film that would reimagine the Western hero in far more cynical amoral terms. The other Spaghetti Westerns would largely follow suit, and these films along with the homegrown Revisionist Westerns of the same period would completely uproot the genre from its John Ford/ John Wayne foundation and establish a far bleaker view of the American West. The film also, though perhaps unintentionally represents the end of the old era and beginning of the new era through its casting. On one side, the film stars Jimmy Stewart and John Wayne, two of the biggest stars of the old Hollywood, and on the other side is Lee Marvin, a major star to be in the 1960's and 1970's and would represent a new kind of Action star by eschewing the more traditional morality of Stewart and Wayne. Much like a lot of other aspects of the culture, the American film industry was at a crossroads in 1962 and this film perfectly captures that moment.
Connecting to this, the film also examines how the Old West works in the context of American culture and American history. As mentioned before, the Western is the only genre Americans can really claim as their own and as such the Old West as well plays an important role in American identity. But that version of the Old West that Americans have latched onto, a view that was even more pronounced in 1962 than in 2016 where the atrocities that were committed in the Old West are now more widely known. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance though understands this to be a myth, but it does not stop here. For many movies, the idea of the American Old West as seen in films such as Stagecoach would be conflated with the idea that the myth is false and has no value. But perhaps because it was directed by a man who helped to establish that myth, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance does not do this, instead it understands that while the myth of the American Old West is not literally true, it is profoundly true in that it gave the young American nation an identity and gave generations of people morals to which they could inspire. Just as Ranson Stoddard did not really kill Liberty Valance, so to was most of what made up the myth of the American West did not really happen, but Stoddard's supposed act inspired his neighbors to move forward towards statehood and the myth of the American Old West served to give America a firm foundation in the world. This is not to say that the atrocities against the native, American Indian population among other things should be whitewashed, far from it and recognizing this is also an important part of maturity, but it does mean that this myth, like all great myths has a value that cannot be tossed out just because it is not literally true of the heroes of this myth did not live up to the morals we would have liked them too, the myth is far too important to do that.
And connecting to this, the film also serves as a critique of liberal nativity and recognizes that as much as it does not want to admit it, the liberal order has been made by illiberal events. For Ranson Stoddard, men like Liberty Valance can be beat by law and order and education is an important tool that by itself can enact positive social change. For Tom however, the reality of life in a town such as Shinbone men like Liberty Valance must be challenged with frontier violence and education is limited in its ability to enact positive social change. In a very real way then, Ranson represents the emerging liberal order in the West with its focus on progress, law, and education while Tom represents the older value system of Spartan living and a resistance, or at very least apprehension to change. And indeed at the end of the film, Ranson's view wins out as the town becomes better educated, becomes part of a state, and also enjoys all the material and social progress associated with the emerging Western United States. But while all of these things are good, this is ultimately based on an illiberal event, the extrajudicial killing of Liberty Valance. Thus as much as liberals may not want to admit it, the world view that they have championed, has been made possible by a series of illiberal events and thus the pure focus on education will not do. But here is the rub, in many respects, it is good for people to believe in these things, it is good for the vast majority of the population to see education as a positive good and to put the punishment of criminals in the hands of the legal system rather than dish out punishment on their own.
The local media is intrigued as to why such a prominent man is traveling so far to attend the funeral of what they see as an unimportant rancher. In flashback however, Ranson tells the story of back when he was a young lawyer from back east and Shinbone was a small dot of a town in a United States territory, rather than in a state. He comes to the town to discover that it is under the grip of a ruthless outlaw named Liberty Valance (Lee Marvin) and his gang. Ranson wants Liberty Valance to be arrested, but Tom reminds him that unlike in the East, in small towns in the territories, the law is useless and thus a man must learn to defend himself, and advises Ranson to bring a gun. It is an idea that Ranson balks at, seeing that law, order, and education must prevail against frontier violence, though he does eventually comply. And living up to these values, Ranson opens up a school to increase the education standards of the town and even begins to work to get statehood for the territory. While working to gain statehood, Liberty Valance and his gang begin to become even more ruthless, an event that cumulates in one night when Liberty Valance begins to threaten Ranson and Ranson shoots him in self-defense. But as it turns out, it was not Ranson, but Tom to shot Liberty. Tom though opts to tell no one, save for Ranson himself, and advises him to do the same. Ranson thus can be known as "The man who shot Liberty Valance" and using his newfound fame, is the overwhelming favorite to be shoes for the delegation for statehood, which he is eventually able to use as a jumping off point for a long career in the United States Senate. The movie then flashes forward in time, where, upon learning the truth, the local media rips up the story and refuses to publish it, because, as the newspaper man says, "This is the West sir, when legend become fact, print the legend."
As just purely an exercise in filmmaking, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is remarkable. The acting is great, from both the leads and the supporting cast. John Ford's signature directorial style is very pronounced in this, and the film just simply looks great. The film also boasts a highly intelligent script from James Warner Bellah and Willis Goldbeck. It has all the elements therefore, of a film that is at least good on a technical level. But there is more going on here than this, and because if this, the film is able to become something more, transcending into the best Western ever made by an American and what might be not only the best statement on the nature of the Western both as a genre and the place of the Old West in American history, but it also serves as a critique of liberal naivety and of Great Man Theory.
What stands out immediately about The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is how it is shot. You see, the film is shot in black and white, something that was very rare for a major director such as Ford working with major actors to do in 1962. By shooting the film in black and white, Ford harkens back to an earlier film he made with Wayne, Stagecoach from 1939. Now in addition to being one of the great Westerns, Stagecoach is historically important as it was not only the film to put Wayne on the map as a major star, it was also the film that transformed the Western into an art, as before the genre was considered a cheap and disreputable genre made for the entertainment of the masses. With Stagecoach and his other films, Ford was able to more than any other single man, even the great Howard Hawks, to codify how Americans viewed the Old West. With The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance however, Ford takes a look at the myth he helped create and conclude that yes, it is a myth as the actual history of the Old West is far more complicated. It is also interesting to note that this film was made in 1962, just as the Western genre was going through some significant changes. After being an easy way to print money for years, the genre was beginning to decline in popularity, at least in the Unites States. And while the genre would enjoy a resurgence in popularity in the coming years, the genre would look far different. Two years later, a young Italian director named Sergio Leone would make A Fistful of Dollars, a film that would reimagine the Western hero in far more cynical amoral terms. The other Spaghetti Westerns would largely follow suit, and these films along with the homegrown Revisionist Westerns of the same period would completely uproot the genre from its John Ford/ John Wayne foundation and establish a far bleaker view of the American West. The film also, though perhaps unintentionally represents the end of the old era and beginning of the new era through its casting. On one side, the film stars Jimmy Stewart and John Wayne, two of the biggest stars of the old Hollywood, and on the other side is Lee Marvin, a major star to be in the 1960's and 1970's and would represent a new kind of Action star by eschewing the more traditional morality of Stewart and Wayne. Much like a lot of other aspects of the culture, the American film industry was at a crossroads in 1962 and this film perfectly captures that moment.
Connecting to this, the film also examines how the Old West works in the context of American culture and American history. As mentioned before, the Western is the only genre Americans can really claim as their own and as such the Old West as well plays an important role in American identity. But that version of the Old West that Americans have latched onto, a view that was even more pronounced in 1962 than in 2016 where the atrocities that were committed in the Old West are now more widely known. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance though understands this to be a myth, but it does not stop here. For many movies, the idea of the American Old West as seen in films such as Stagecoach would be conflated with the idea that the myth is false and has no value. But perhaps because it was directed by a man who helped to establish that myth, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance does not do this, instead it understands that while the myth of the American Old West is not literally true, it is profoundly true in that it gave the young American nation an identity and gave generations of people morals to which they could inspire. Just as Ranson Stoddard did not really kill Liberty Valance, so to was most of what made up the myth of the American West did not really happen, but Stoddard's supposed act inspired his neighbors to move forward towards statehood and the myth of the American Old West served to give America a firm foundation in the world. This is not to say that the atrocities against the native, American Indian population among other things should be whitewashed, far from it and recognizing this is also an important part of maturity, but it does mean that this myth, like all great myths has a value that cannot be tossed out just because it is not literally true of the heroes of this myth did not live up to the morals we would have liked them too, the myth is far too important to do that.
And connecting to this, the film also serves as a critique of liberal nativity and recognizes that as much as it does not want to admit it, the liberal order has been made by illiberal events. For Ranson Stoddard, men like Liberty Valance can be beat by law and order and education is an important tool that by itself can enact positive social change. For Tom however, the reality of life in a town such as Shinbone men like Liberty Valance must be challenged with frontier violence and education is limited in its ability to enact positive social change. In a very real way then, Ranson represents the emerging liberal order in the West with its focus on progress, law, and education while Tom represents the older value system of Spartan living and a resistance, or at very least apprehension to change. And indeed at the end of the film, Ranson's view wins out as the town becomes better educated, becomes part of a state, and also enjoys all the material and social progress associated with the emerging Western United States. But while all of these things are good, this is ultimately based on an illiberal event, the extrajudicial killing of Liberty Valance. Thus as much as liberals may not want to admit it, the world view that they have championed, has been made possible by a series of illiberal events and thus the pure focus on education will not do. But here is the rub, in many respects, it is good for people to believe in these things, it is good for the vast majority of the population to see education as a positive good and to put the punishment of criminals in the hands of the legal system rather than dish out punishment on their own.
Sunday, January 28, 2001
Seinfield | 9.0
I caught a few episodes of Seinfeld over it's final two seasons run on public channel, and made it a point to catch a lot more of Jerry and friends during it's reruns. I found it very amusing on first viewings, but as time wore on, I began to like it more and more, and to eagerly borrow taped episodes from friends, and to hunt for re-runs on syndicated channels.
Of the two comedy TV series in the history of television, I would choose both Seinfeld and Monty Python as the cultural landmarks of the medium. In Seinfeld, there is not a trace of sentimentality and glib moralizing that plagues the American sitcom genre. Characters do not hug each other on Christmas, fall in love, wax on and on about family and friends, there is no faux-cathartic season ender so favored by the writers of, say, "Friends".
Instead, we have the narcissistic Jerry, constantly mining the minutiae of everyday detail for every bit of situational comedy; we have the hyper-aggressive Elaine, whose strings of breakups with boyfriends are as impressive as her petty neuroses leading up to the breakups themselves; the ultimate schlub-loser George, who lies to every single woman he dates, sells faulty equipment to the handicapped and muscles off women and children when fleeing an apartment fire; and the impossibly inventive physical comedy of the entrepreneur cum schmooze Kramer.
Over and over again, week in and week out, the quartet discuss trivialities with unbridled zeal, as the non-descript narrative pings from one mundane setting to another. Seldom has such wit been generated by such gargantually pointless human endeavors. That is where the brilliance of Seinfeld lies, in the ability to go to the most bizarre ends to fulfill the potential of a less than hopeful comedic premise; and the endless, pointlessly smug and nihilistic banter that almost invariably escalates into some of TV's classic lines, such as when George shouts triumphantly after winning an argument that "there is no bigger loser than me!".
Of the two comedy TV series in the history of television, I would choose both Seinfeld and Monty Python as the cultural landmarks of the medium. In Seinfeld, there is not a trace of sentimentality and glib moralizing that plagues the American sitcom genre. Characters do not hug each other on Christmas, fall in love, wax on and on about family and friends, there is no faux-cathartic season ender so favored by the writers of, say, "Friends".
Instead, we have the narcissistic Jerry, constantly mining the minutiae of everyday detail for every bit of situational comedy; we have the hyper-aggressive Elaine, whose strings of breakups with boyfriends are as impressive as her petty neuroses leading up to the breakups themselves; the ultimate schlub-loser George, who lies to every single woman he dates, sells faulty equipment to the handicapped and muscles off women and children when fleeing an apartment fire; and the impossibly inventive physical comedy of the entrepreneur cum schmooze Kramer.
Over and over again, week in and week out, the quartet discuss trivialities with unbridled zeal, as the non-descript narrative pings from one mundane setting to another. Seldom has such wit been generated by such gargantually pointless human endeavors. That is where the brilliance of Seinfeld lies, in the ability to go to the most bizarre ends to fulfill the potential of a less than hopeful comedic premise; and the endless, pointlessly smug and nihilistic banter that almost invariably escalates into some of TV's classic lines, such as when George shouts triumphantly after winning an argument that "there is no bigger loser than me!".
Saturday, January 27, 2001
Beauty and the Beast 1991 review
So unfortunately I haven't been able to see the new film yet (going
tonight!), but I did recently re-watch the original, so I wanted to gush
about that.
It's such a perfect film.
There's certainly room for some debate about whether or not the added scenes in the special edition add or subtract from the film, but personally, I think the original film is legitimately a perfect movie, and on all levels. Whether you look at the voice acting, the direction, the animation, the music, the score, the story-everything is done amazingly.
It's also my personal favorite Disney movie, and Belle is by far my favorite Disney Princess-I hope to properly articulate why throughout my review.
Before I get to the characters, though, I do want to talk about the film itself.
First off, the animation is incredible. I've always understood, to an extent, that Disney was amazing at animation. That said, I was never able to appreciate it as much as others, I guess because I just hadn't looked at it closely enough in relation to "bad" animation. Disney was what I grew up with, so it was simply the standard and I took it for granted.
That said, though, rewatching this I could truly appreciate the incredible animation, as the mix of hand-drawn and computer animation was a perfect marriage. The colors of the opening shot are breathtakingly vibrant and beautiful, and the entire film just looks so crisp and clean, perfectly done.
Which, speaking of the first scene, I love the entire prologue, and how it's told through stained glass. It makes it feel like a fairy tale in such a unique way, instead of the classic "opening a book"-this makes it seem like it's a story passed down from generation to batb6generation, to the point that the story is told on stained glass windows, just as churches showcase biblical stories.
And there are a lot of other clever instances of animation. When we first meet the beast, for example, I thought it was so well-done and genuinely terrifying. With first just the shadow, then the horns elongating, and then the first shot of him is in his most beast-like form, on all fours, snarling, terrifying. Which also lends well to his character, as he slowly becomes more and more upright, mirroring his becoming more and more human.
Another shot I absolutely loved was after Belle's father asks Gaston for help, and you get the very high, wide-angled shot of him in the midst of a snowstorm, incredibly evocative of his current mood.
And again, with the ending, I like how the film is bookended with the stained glass windows, once again defying the trope of the book closing, but still evoking the same idea of the fairy tale presentation, all at the same time solidifying the idea that this is a story passed down, and eternalized as a story for that culture.
And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the library-definitely life goals right there haha. Just makes booknerd me (aka, me) so happy. ^^
To talk about the characters, though, I love all of them.
Lumiere and Cogsworth fit the film perfectly. Often times jokes can seem out of place for me in an otherwise-serious film, but not only were they genuinely funny, they never felt out of place. Furthermore, they're also fully-realized characters, who have distinct personalities and give the feeling that they truly do have a history together. And the film just does clever and fun things with them, such as Lumiere pulling Cogsworth for the sad part of "Be Our Guest," using him to personify the emotions of that part of the song.
For the two main characters, both Belle and Beast are incredibly personal to me. For Belle, she's exactly who I want to be; Beast is how I've always seen myself.
Before college (and even still a bit, but it was a lot worse before), I was always incredibly self-conscious of my looks/body, plus I always felt ostracized from society because I liked weird (aka nerdy) things. In that way, I always felt like I was the Beast. But Belle was who I wanted to be-nerdy, but confident, and not caring about people's appearances, but who they are on the inside. I still look up to her, and I still try to be her.
Belle's also completely me in many ways. Her introduction is perhaps my favorite part of the movie, as I just love how she's gushing so much about books, and just needs more, finishing books in a single day (as I also love to do). And, she loves re-reading books-there really is nothing like going back to an old favorite, and Belle shows it.
She's also just such a fantastic character in general, and it's amazing to see such a strong female character when the standard of the Disney princess was never that high. I've been reading things with a much heavier feminist lens recently, and honestly I truly believe this film is incredibly pro-feminist.
There's a lot of gender issues in films in general-one of the biggest of course being that women are so incredibly often portrayed in very sexist ways, or are used just as love interests/etc. There's been some great films recently that shows things are slowly getting better, but we're still nowhere near where we should be. And so it's even more refreshing to see a character like Belle all the way back in 1991.
Even better, she's a completely fully-rounded character, and just so real. So often strong female characters are only women who kick ass, or go above and beyond what "normal" women do. Which, those characters are awesome, yes-they're amazing!-but it's also nice to see strong female characters of all types. Because being strong isn't just about physical strength, but about inner strength as well and even more importantly so.
And that's Belle. She's not a warrior, or perfect at everything-she's just her. She's kind, she's smart, and she's powerful because of her inner character, never betraying what she stands for. She's who she wants to be.
batb9Even when just describing books, she likes both the romance (traditionally "feminine") and adventure (traditionally "masculine"), and by that the film makes an incredibly important point: it doesn't matter. Girls and guys can both like adventure or romance, and one shouldn't be just for one gender or the other. Be who you are, love what you love-like Belle.
Perhaps the biggest thing about her that I aspire to be is just her genuine niceness, how pure of heart she is. I get upset or offended pretty easily (like Beast), but Belle doesn't. She stands up for herself, but never with malice. And she treats everyone equally.
Even to Gaston, the "bully", she stays true to her character even though she's clearly repulsed. She uses her wit to show that she's better than him, always there with a comeback or line of snarky dialogue to whatever he says, such as when he states how it isn't right for women to read, and she calls him out for being primeval. Or how she says at one point that "some people use their imagination" in response to the lack of pictures.
Which, speaking of, Gaston is perhaps one of the best Disney villains, because of how human and real he is-a perfect counterpart to Belle and the Beast. A Disney movie is often judged as much by its villain as its hero, and while I love Maleficent and Ursula and other of the fantastic villains, Gaston is just as great, but for different reasons.
Anyway, back to Belle, one of my favorite moments is when she tells Lumiere and Cogsworth how "I figured it out for myself" when Cogsworth asks who told her about the castle being enchanted. She doesn't let sexism stand, whether it's from Gaston who thinks any woman is his, or from Cogsworth thinking a woman couldn't figure something out-she speaks up about it, but again not with malice, but simple correction.
Belle's a completely active character, but in her own way. She proves that you can be strong in any way. She proves a female character can be written well without being a warrior badass. Because that's the thing-people are different. Yes, it's amazing to see incredibly powerful, kick-ass women written well, but it's also cool to see just women in general written well, because that's how people are-they're different, they're themselves.
Belle fights for her father, and doesn't give in to any of the men in the film. She never gives in to Gaston. She trades her life for her fathers of her own will, but never gives into the Beast, either, revolting from him in her own way, such as not accepting dinner, etc. It's why I love their romance so much, because she doesn't just give in to him or become infatuated with him, but stands strong and then later starts to slowly see his inner character-in her own time, in her own way.
I really don't think Belle gets enough credit, because I truly think she's one of the strongest characters of film period. Female, male, live-action, animated-she's just always exactly who she wants to be, and never apologizes for it, nor does she ever betray her own values. Belle is an incredibly strong character and a feminist, and it's so refreshing to see.
I'd go so far to say that Beast even is redeemed to the extent that by the end of the film that he's either a feminist or at least on his way to becoming one. Which might sound crazy, but: he realizes that her wishes are just as important as his own, validating her concerns, and that's why he lets her go back to her father. He accepts her making her own choice instead of trying to force her to love him, as he originally wanted. And he gives up his possibly only chance at becoming human again, because he validates her concerns as just as important as his own-treating her as an equal. That's how big of a character arc he has during the film-before he was turned into the beast, I imagine him to be basically Gaston as a prince; after being turned into a beast, he's filled with hate and malice, hating anyone and everyone; but eventually, he learns about the importance of being kind and of respecting women (and people in general),
It's such a perfect film.
There's certainly room for some debate about whether or not the added scenes in the special edition add or subtract from the film, but personally, I think the original film is legitimately a perfect movie, and on all levels. Whether you look at the voice acting, the direction, the animation, the music, the score, the story-everything is done amazingly.
It's also my personal favorite Disney movie, and Belle is by far my favorite Disney Princess-I hope to properly articulate why throughout my review.
Before I get to the characters, though, I do want to talk about the film itself.
First off, the animation is incredible. I've always understood, to an extent, that Disney was amazing at animation. That said, I was never able to appreciate it as much as others, I guess because I just hadn't looked at it closely enough in relation to "bad" animation. Disney was what I grew up with, so it was simply the standard and I took it for granted.
That said, though, rewatching this I could truly appreciate the incredible animation, as the mix of hand-drawn and computer animation was a perfect marriage. The colors of the opening shot are breathtakingly vibrant and beautiful, and the entire film just looks so crisp and clean, perfectly done.
Which, speaking of the first scene, I love the entire prologue, and how it's told through stained glass. It makes it feel like a fairy tale in such a unique way, instead of the classic "opening a book"-this makes it seem like it's a story passed down from generation to batb6generation, to the point that the story is told on stained glass windows, just as churches showcase biblical stories.
And there are a lot of other clever instances of animation. When we first meet the beast, for example, I thought it was so well-done and genuinely terrifying. With first just the shadow, then the horns elongating, and then the first shot of him is in his most beast-like form, on all fours, snarling, terrifying. Which also lends well to his character, as he slowly becomes more and more upright, mirroring his becoming more and more human.
Another shot I absolutely loved was after Belle's father asks Gaston for help, and you get the very high, wide-angled shot of him in the midst of a snowstorm, incredibly evocative of his current mood.
And again, with the ending, I like how the film is bookended with the stained glass windows, once again defying the trope of the book closing, but still evoking the same idea of the fairy tale presentation, all at the same time solidifying the idea that this is a story passed down, and eternalized as a story for that culture.
And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the library-definitely life goals right there haha. Just makes booknerd me (aka, me) so happy. ^^
To talk about the characters, though, I love all of them.
Lumiere and Cogsworth fit the film perfectly. Often times jokes can seem out of place for me in an otherwise-serious film, but not only were they genuinely funny, they never felt out of place. Furthermore, they're also fully-realized characters, who have distinct personalities and give the feeling that they truly do have a history together. And the film just does clever and fun things with them, such as Lumiere pulling Cogsworth for the sad part of "Be Our Guest," using him to personify the emotions of that part of the song.
For the two main characters, both Belle and Beast are incredibly personal to me. For Belle, she's exactly who I want to be; Beast is how I've always seen myself.
Before college (and even still a bit, but it was a lot worse before), I was always incredibly self-conscious of my looks/body, plus I always felt ostracized from society because I liked weird (aka nerdy) things. In that way, I always felt like I was the Beast. But Belle was who I wanted to be-nerdy, but confident, and not caring about people's appearances, but who they are on the inside. I still look up to her, and I still try to be her.
Belle's also completely me in many ways. Her introduction is perhaps my favorite part of the movie, as I just love how she's gushing so much about books, and just needs more, finishing books in a single day (as I also love to do). And, she loves re-reading books-there really is nothing like going back to an old favorite, and Belle shows it.
She's also just such a fantastic character in general, and it's amazing to see such a strong female character when the standard of the Disney princess was never that high. I've been reading things with a much heavier feminist lens recently, and honestly I truly believe this film is incredibly pro-feminist.
There's a lot of gender issues in films in general-one of the biggest of course being that women are so incredibly often portrayed in very sexist ways, or are used just as love interests/etc. There's been some great films recently that shows things are slowly getting better, but we're still nowhere near where we should be. And so it's even more refreshing to see a character like Belle all the way back in 1991.
Even better, she's a completely fully-rounded character, and just so real. So often strong female characters are only women who kick ass, or go above and beyond what "normal" women do. Which, those characters are awesome, yes-they're amazing!-but it's also nice to see strong female characters of all types. Because being strong isn't just about physical strength, but about inner strength as well and even more importantly so.
And that's Belle. She's not a warrior, or perfect at everything-she's just her. She's kind, she's smart, and she's powerful because of her inner character, never betraying what she stands for. She's who she wants to be.
batb9Even when just describing books, she likes both the romance (traditionally "feminine") and adventure (traditionally "masculine"), and by that the film makes an incredibly important point: it doesn't matter. Girls and guys can both like adventure or romance, and one shouldn't be just for one gender or the other. Be who you are, love what you love-like Belle.
Perhaps the biggest thing about her that I aspire to be is just her genuine niceness, how pure of heart she is. I get upset or offended pretty easily (like Beast), but Belle doesn't. She stands up for herself, but never with malice. And she treats everyone equally.
Even to Gaston, the "bully", she stays true to her character even though she's clearly repulsed. She uses her wit to show that she's better than him, always there with a comeback or line of snarky dialogue to whatever he says, such as when he states how it isn't right for women to read, and she calls him out for being primeval. Or how she says at one point that "some people use their imagination" in response to the lack of pictures.
Which, speaking of, Gaston is perhaps one of the best Disney villains, because of how human and real he is-a perfect counterpart to Belle and the Beast. A Disney movie is often judged as much by its villain as its hero, and while I love Maleficent and Ursula and other of the fantastic villains, Gaston is just as great, but for different reasons.
Anyway, back to Belle, one of my favorite moments is when she tells Lumiere and Cogsworth how "I figured it out for myself" when Cogsworth asks who told her about the castle being enchanted. She doesn't let sexism stand, whether it's from Gaston who thinks any woman is his, or from Cogsworth thinking a woman couldn't figure something out-she speaks up about it, but again not with malice, but simple correction.
Belle's a completely active character, but in her own way. She proves that you can be strong in any way. She proves a female character can be written well without being a warrior badass. Because that's the thing-people are different. Yes, it's amazing to see incredibly powerful, kick-ass women written well, but it's also cool to see just women in general written well, because that's how people are-they're different, they're themselves.
Belle fights for her father, and doesn't give in to any of the men in the film. She never gives in to Gaston. She trades her life for her fathers of her own will, but never gives into the Beast, either, revolting from him in her own way, such as not accepting dinner, etc. It's why I love their romance so much, because she doesn't just give in to him or become infatuated with him, but stands strong and then later starts to slowly see his inner character-in her own time, in her own way.
I really don't think Belle gets enough credit, because I truly think she's one of the strongest characters of film period. Female, male, live-action, animated-she's just always exactly who she wants to be, and never apologizes for it, nor does she ever betray her own values. Belle is an incredibly strong character and a feminist, and it's so refreshing to see.
I'd go so far to say that Beast even is redeemed to the extent that by the end of the film that he's either a feminist or at least on his way to becoming one. Which might sound crazy, but: he realizes that her wishes are just as important as his own, validating her concerns, and that's why he lets her go back to her father. He accepts her making her own choice instead of trying to force her to love him, as he originally wanted. And he gives up his possibly only chance at becoming human again, because he validates her concerns as just as important as his own-treating her as an equal. That's how big of a character arc he has during the film-before he was turned into the beast, I imagine him to be basically Gaston as a prince; after being turned into a beast, he's filled with hate and malice, hating anyone and everyone; but eventually, he learns about the importance of being kind and of respecting women (and people in general),
Friday, January 26, 2001
THe Longest Day
The Longest Day may very well be one of the most expansive film projects
in history. With four directors, five writers, and forty-two billed
international stars, this is an unforgettable movie, and one that used
its many stars to their full advantage.
The 1960's were loaded with epics where directors took every big name star on the market and thrust them into a role. It may seem like that's what was done here, but in fact, the casting was excellent, and no one looked out of place, especially the lead actors John Wayne, Robert Mitchum, and Henry Fonda.
There is also an amazing supporting cast, with actors from America, Britain, France, and Germany, which represented the four countries involved in the D-Day Invasion of Normandy. It takes a whole paragraph just listing their names: Eddie Albert, Richard Burton, Red Buttons, Sean Connery, Jeffrey Hunter, Peter Lawford, Roddy McDowell, Sal Mineo, Kenneth More, Robert Ryan, George Segal, Rod Steiger, Robert Wagner, and Stuart Whitman. Singers Paul Anka and Fabian also made appearances as American soldiers. The cast of Germans and French include Hans Christian Blech, Richard Munch, Bourvil, Werner Heinz, and Wolfgang Preiss.
Ken Annakin shot the British scenes, Andrew Marton shot the American scenes, and Bernhard Wicki shot the German ones. Darryl F. Zanuck produced the film and is often credited as a fourth director.
What was really special about this film was the fact that the characters from their respective countries spoke their native language, and subtitles were used on-screen. This was very rarely done by Hollywood back then, and films involving foreign characters were still shot in English, with the vernacular to be assumed by the audience. The famous opening shot from "The Longest Day".
The special effects are also top notch, and the battles scenes and cinematography were worth the Oscars they won. There are may distance shots of the battles scenes, with so much going on and this added to the realism of the movie.
Even with so many stars, this film really does not belong to anyone in particular. Wayne and Mitchum's scenes were brief and spread out evenly throughout the course of the movie. Meanwhile, Henry Fonda recieved less time on screen than any of the top-billed stars.
It's truly amazing to finish this movie and see the end credits role and see so many names whose faces you did not recognize. There are so many small scenes and cameos all around, that it could almost be made into a game with whoever you are watching this film with, to try and name who is on screen.
This film would work really well as a compliment to Saving Private Ryan, which is considered the definitive D-Day movie, despite it being only one scene at the beginning. Watching The Longest Day before watching that will help you to understand what went behind the largest invasion in modern warfare history. That's why this movie is so great, because it is not just one big battle, but lots of dialogue explaining every mission involved, no matter how menial.
I will make my final rating a 9 out of 10, because I am still impressed at the special effects and star power every time I sit down to watch it.
The 1960's were loaded with epics where directors took every big name star on the market and thrust them into a role. It may seem like that's what was done here, but in fact, the casting was excellent, and no one looked out of place, especially the lead actors John Wayne, Robert Mitchum, and Henry Fonda.
There is also an amazing supporting cast, with actors from America, Britain, France, and Germany, which represented the four countries involved in the D-Day Invasion of Normandy. It takes a whole paragraph just listing their names: Eddie Albert, Richard Burton, Red Buttons, Sean Connery, Jeffrey Hunter, Peter Lawford, Roddy McDowell, Sal Mineo, Kenneth More, Robert Ryan, George Segal, Rod Steiger, Robert Wagner, and Stuart Whitman. Singers Paul Anka and Fabian also made appearances as American soldiers. The cast of Germans and French include Hans Christian Blech, Richard Munch, Bourvil, Werner Heinz, and Wolfgang Preiss.
Ken Annakin shot the British scenes, Andrew Marton shot the American scenes, and Bernhard Wicki shot the German ones. Darryl F. Zanuck produced the film and is often credited as a fourth director.
What was really special about this film was the fact that the characters from their respective countries spoke their native language, and subtitles were used on-screen. This was very rarely done by Hollywood back then, and films involving foreign characters were still shot in English, with the vernacular to be assumed by the audience. The famous opening shot from "The Longest Day".
The special effects are also top notch, and the battles scenes and cinematography were worth the Oscars they won. There are may distance shots of the battles scenes, with so much going on and this added to the realism of the movie.
Even with so many stars, this film really does not belong to anyone in particular. Wayne and Mitchum's scenes were brief and spread out evenly throughout the course of the movie. Meanwhile, Henry Fonda recieved less time on screen than any of the top-billed stars.
It's truly amazing to finish this movie and see the end credits role and see so many names whose faces you did not recognize. There are so many small scenes and cameos all around, that it could almost be made into a game with whoever you are watching this film with, to try and name who is on screen.
This film would work really well as a compliment to Saving Private Ryan, which is considered the definitive D-Day movie, despite it being only one scene at the beginning. Watching The Longest Day before watching that will help you to understand what went behind the largest invasion in modern warfare history. That's why this movie is so great, because it is not just one big battle, but lots of dialogue explaining every mission involved, no matter how menial.
I will make my final rating a 9 out of 10, because I am still impressed at the special effects and star power every time I sit down to watch it.
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