Tuesday, May 24, 2011

#95. The Last Picture Show



Year: 1971

Director: Peter Bogdanovich

Academy Awards:

  • Best Actor in a Supporting Role
  • Best Actress in a Supporting Role


Welcome to rural West Texas in the 1950's, where we find a group of high schoolers who are just plain bored. We follow the story of young Sonny (Timothy Bottoms) and his best friend, Duane (Jeff Bridges), as they do their best to pass the time in the tiny dying town of Anarene. Their highlights include a pool hall and theater owned by the highly respected Sam the Lion (Ben Johnson), and of course, chasing girls. The two also befriend a special boy named Billy, who loves to sweep the dusty streets. Their relationship is like that of big brothers. They need some excitement in their lives.

Speaking of chasing girls, Duane is in love with Jacy (Cybill Shepherd), a wealthy, stunning girl who knows she's wanted by every guy in town. After losing her virginity, Jacy dumps the lower class Duane for a more exciting crowd (including the likes of a young Randy Quaid). In the meantime, Sonny is busy falling in love with his coach's lonely, unwanted wife, Ruth (Cloris Leachman). Yes, he makes love to Cloris Leachman. Many times. And so goes life in Anarene...

One of the best lines in the film comes from Jacey's mother, whose best days are behind her. She looks at her young, beautiful daughter and says, "Remember beautiful, everything gets old if you do it often enough." That's the story. It puts a frighteningly truthful perspective on life itself, but manifests itself fully in the small town of Anarene. Yes, The Last Picture Show does a fantastic job of portraying small town life. In a city where note much happens, EVERYONE knows everyone's business, and there's no escaping the drama.

After the boys' icon, Sam the Lion, dies, life is never the same. The heartbroken Duane leaves town for work on an oil rig while Sonny stays behind to run the pool hall and sleep with his geriatric mistress. Jacy, becoming jealous of ole Ruth, decides to take a run at Sonny. With his best friend out of the picture, Sonny falls for Jacy and things go well for as long as he can keep her entertained. All the while, Ruth Popper sits home alone longing for Sonny.

One dusty day, Duane returns to his hometown to discover that Sonny has been getting with his girl. A conflict broods between the brothers and ends with a bottle breaking on Sonny's face. He bleeds on the street as Duane jets out of town and joins the army. Jacy and Sonny last a little while longer, but she gets bored, breaks his heart, and heads for college life in the big city of Dallas. Standard girl stuff.

Time passes. Sonny keeps running the pool hall, but the Royal Theater once run by Sam the Lion is about to close down. Around this time, Duane comes back to Anarene for a few days before he's shipped off to Korea. Sonny takes this time to reconcile with his old friend. The film features a beautiful resolution as they both go to the old theater to watch the last picture show. As Sonny and Duane enjoy their popcorn beneath the silver screen, it's as if nothing had changed from the good ole days. People go to the movies to escape the real world, and that magical attribute of the theater is captured magnificently in this scene.

Afterward, Sonny and Duane have a few beers and have one final chat in Duane's new Mercury. They rekindle their brotherly bond, realizing how foolish it was to have let a pair of big blue eyes tarnish their friendship. Before hopping on the army bus, Duane hands Sonny the keys to the Mercury and asks him to help his mother out with toting groceries from time to time. The two say their final farewell and Duane rides out of town. You know this really is the final goodbye, and that this he will come home.

Sonny continues to waste away at the pool hall until his life finally crumbles. With all of his friends gone, and the affairs with Ruth and Jacy leaving him fairly alienated, his only real friend is young Billy. On the saddest day of his life, Sonny walks out the doors of the pool hall to discover that Billy was hit by a truck while sweeping the streets. In great anguish, he breaks through the ring of townsfolk and truckers to lift Billy's lifeless body from the dusty ground. The truckers bewilderingly ask why the boy was in the street until Sonny explodes, screaming, "He was sweeping!" Emotion pours out. Sonny cradles Billy's innocent body and lays him gently out of the street. Sonny is completely alone.

This is a very powerful scene, and well acted by Timothy Bottoms. He is a caged spirit wanting so badly to be freed, but he has no real means to escape this small town life.

Sonny hops in the old pickup and begins to speed out of town, to leave this world behind him. After reaching the city limits, however, he turns around. He pulls into the driveway of his old lover, Ruth Popper. He silently walks in and sits down at the table. Ruth breaks down and explodes, her many months of sorrow unleashing in a matter of moments. Then, in silence, Sonny takes her and sobs. Ruth, the only one who truly loves him, squeezes his hand and says, "Never you mind honey. Never you mind."

The film ends just as it began, with a slow pan over the dusty streets of this small town in Texas. The final shot ends on the Royal Theater and the screen fades to black.

Being a filmmaker from a small town, I found The Last Picture Show to be a most interesting film. It was also quite a kick to see a young Jeff Bridges, Randy Quaid, and Cybill Shepherd. I mean, who knew that Cybill was a total babe in the early 70's? I sure didn't.



Bogdanovich's films gets a well deserved cheer. Good job, old boy.

In conclusion - Moral of the story: Bros before hoes.

Monday, May 23, 2011

#96. Do The Right Thing




Year: 1989

Director: Spike Lee

Academy Awards Nominations:

Director Spike Lee takes his audience into the heart of Brooklyn for the hottest day of the year, where tensions and racial prejudice boil to the brink of violence.

The film sets the tone of racial tension from the get-go with a Public Enemy intro which is very fitting for hip hop culture at the birth of the 90's. With a fruitful cast featuring stars such as Samuel L. Jackson, Danny Aiello, and a young Martin Lawrence, Do The Right Thing follows a young man named Mookie (Spike Lee) as he  rides the rising tides of bigotry in his neighborhood. Mookie battles the heat while working as a pizza delivery boy for Sal's Pizza, the lone Italian establishment in a predominantly black neighborhood. I found Spike Lee's portrayal of Mookie to be very likable, definitely a character you can find yourself cheering for.

I also found myself cheering for Salvatore 'Sal' Fragione (Danny Aiello's), founder and owner of Sal's pizza. He's a stern yet kind character who finds great pride in feeding the people of his community. Sal's son Pino, however, is highly resentful toward the African American community, even though all of his favorite celebrities are, in fact, black. Sal keeps his son in line, but Pino becomes even more resentful when a punk named Buggin Out comes into Sal's and begins bashing the establishment's wall of famous Italian actors. Buggin Out demands that they put some brothers up on that wall, but Sal pridefully refuses. Buggin Out is kicked out of the pizzeria and spends the rest of the day gathering support to boycott Sal's Pizza.

After the drama, Mookie finds himself bouncing around town delivering pizzas. He takes a few breaks to beat the heat, one of which is to see his sister, probably the most respected member of the community. She tells him to quit being a bum so he can take care of his responsibilities. We soon discover another one of these responsibilities when Mookie takes a trip to see his son and baby momma.

In the meantime, Buggin Out is telling everyone that he's going to take Sal's Pizza down. Most of the community won't even give him the time of day, saying that they grew up on Sal's pizza. Unfortunately, he finds support from a young man named Radio Raheem. Raheem carries around a boombox and blasts Public Enemy at all times.

It's also worth noting that supporting actor Robin Harris stars as Sweet Dick Willie. Fantastic name.

Later that night, Sal stays open late to give some of Mookie's friends a few slices. Public Enemy blares as Buggin Out and Radio Raheem storm into the pizzeria demanding that Sal put some brothers up on the wall. Sal tells Raheem to turn the music off, then screams it, then violently screams it, but Raheem stands firm. The conflict builds until Sal takes a baseball bat to Raheem's boombox, silencing the noise once and for all. The irate teen grabs Sal by the throat and the brawl begins. The neighborhood comes out to see the scuffle, which causes quite a commotion. The cops, the white, racist cops, hit the scene in time to keep Raheem from choking Sal to death. Sadly, the racist cops murder Raheem in the conflict before driving off into the night with Buggin Out in chains. The community is stunned and the audience feels like the action has climaxed. This is when Mookie, horrified and confused by his friend's murder, takes charge and tosses a trash can throw Sal's window. This invokes a violent mob which proceeds to loot and burn what remains of Sal's Pizza. Sal can only stand and watch as his place, is pride and joy, his life, is burnt to ashes. The mod also tries to attack the adjacent Korean grocery store, but a small Korean man wards them off, claiming that he's one of them. The mob hesitates, but seems to have an understanding that even though their outward appearances may be different, they are all the the same on the inside.

Spike does a great job of building this conflict. The fight had been brewing all day in the heat of the Brooklyn summer, and his cast executed it brilliantly. Truthfully, throughout the film, the community melds together to create a very realistic depiction of late 1980's hip hop Brooklyn. Lee also does a nice job of balancing comedic moments with strong dramatic scenes.

Simply put, I really enjoyed his storytelling.

Until the last ten minutes of the film...

Things really fell apart at the end. After the really violent climax of this hot, tense day, I was looking for some sort of resolution, which I struggled to find. The morning after Mookie sparked the destruction of Sal's Pizza, he finds himself face to face with Sal, the man who has done nothing but treat him like a son for the entirety of the film. Thinking Mookie will "do the right thing" and make some sort of resolution with Sal, I entered the credits a bit disappointed.

Instead of doing anything that resembles apologizing, Mookie asks Sal for his salary. An enraged Sal goes on to explain that his pizza place meant so much because he built it with his bare hands, just to watch it be destroyed by the very mouths he had been feeding for years. Mookie, still upset by the death of his friend, fails to feel sympathy for his boss - or former boss - I'm not really sure if the trash can through the window was a resignation. Sal, in disgust, begins to throw Franklins at his pizza boy. Mookie picks up the five bills, throws two back at his boss, and tells Sal, "My salary is 250 a week all right? I owe you 50 bucks." There is an awkward standoff as the two decide who should keep the final two-hundred. After the dust settles, Mookie and Sal have a civilized chat about the heat and gettin' paid until Mookie picks up the last two-hundred and walks away. Before Mookie goes home to see his son, Sal tells him to always try to do the right thing. That's it. The film fades out as Mookie walks down his street to see spend the day with his son. Samuel L. Jackson narrates the outro, telling his listeners that today's gonna be another hot one. RIP Radio Raheem.

Perhaps Sal not ripping Mookie's head off implies that there was some sort of resolution between the two. 

Perhaps Lee intended to leave the conflict unresolved to parallel the unresolved conflict of bigotry in the world. 

Perhaps Mookie forsaking any ownership of his role in burning down Sal's pizzeria isn't important. 

Perhaps doing the right thing is just getting paid so you can go spend time with your infant son.

Perhaps none of it really matters. A young man was murdered on the streets of Brooklyn.

As the film fades to black, we see a quote that may provide some closure.

"Violence as a way of achieving racial justice is both impractical and immoral. It is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending in destruction for all. The old law of an eye for an eye leaves everybody blind. It is immoral because it seeks to humiliate the opponent rather than win his understanding; it seeks to annihilate rather than to convert. Violence is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than love. It destroys a community and makes brotherhood impossible. It leaves society in monologue rather than dialogue. Violence ends by defeating itself. It creates bitterness in the survivors and brutality in the destroyers."

- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Dr. King... Classic.... Now I have a better idea of where Spike was going with his film. Great quote in favor of nonviolence. There's the sense of resolution I was searching for. 

Oh wait. What's that? Another quote?

"I think there are plenty of good people in America, but there are also plenty of bad people in America and the bad ones are the ones who seem to have all the power and be in these positions to block things that you and I need. Because this is the situation, you and I have to preserve the right to do what is necessary to bring an end to that situation, and it doesn't mean that I advocate violence, but at the same time I am not against using violence in self-defense. I don't even call it violence when it's self-defense, I call it intelligence."


- Malcolm X

Damnit. 

Goodbye closure, hello ambiguity.


In summary, I did enjoy Do The Right Thing. However, I would like to sit down with Spike Lee, maybe split a pack of the high life, and discuss the ending of his cinematic vision

Sunday, May 15, 2011

#97. Blade Runner




Year: 1982

Director: Ridley Scott

Academy Award Nominations:


  • Best Art Direction-Set Decoration
  • Best Effects, Visual Effects
I'd like to begin our breakdown of AFI's #97 film by stating that Blade Runner may be my favorite science fiction film of all time. Also, it should be duly noted that if Ridley Scott (Alien, Gladiator, Black Hawk Down) knows nothing else, he sure as hell knows how to direct a film.





Set in the futuristic world of Los Angeles 2019, Blade Runner tells the story of suave "blade runner" Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), a highly skilled police officer tasked with hunting and 'retiring" rogue replicants. See, in the space aged 2019, a major corporation has given life to replicants, or synthetic robots designed to look and live like humans (only many times stronger and faster), which are used for slave labor on off-world colonies. Deckard's world is turned upside down when he's called back onto the force to track down a group of highly dangerous fugitive androids. Oh, and just in case you're wondering, "retirement" is code for killing.

While retiring his prey in grand fashion, Deckard develops an interesting relationship with a lovely replicant named Rachael (Sean Young). Rachael, a prototype of Tyrell Corp's newest line, does not know she is a replicant. Unlike her bionic predecessors, Rachael has memories, human memories dating back to the childhood she never actually had. After privately telling Rachael the truth about her existence, the heartthrob Deckard falls for Tyrell's "experiment" and becomes convinced he can save her.

In the meantime, a prime replicant named Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer) begins hunting for his creator. The replicants may be seemingly identical to human beings, but as a control measure, they are programed to have a lifespan of only four years. Driven by the thirst for life, Roy's android posse scours the city until they find what they were seeking, passage into Tyrell Corp.

By the end of the film, we begin to realize that the story really questions what it means to possess the gift of life.  As Roy's final days are running out, he finds himself face to face with his creator, Dr. Elden Tyrell. Roy's request is simple, he just wants more life. The doctor calmly explains that the replicant's request is biologically impossible, which leads to a chilling analogy. Tyrell looks into the eyes of his most beautiful creation and says, "A light that burns twice as bright burns half as long. And you've burned very, very brightly. Roy." A humanoid zenith, Roy has performed more feats in his four years than most humans will ever achieve in their lifetime. Accepting his fate, Roy embraces his father, then proceeds to force his thumbs through the back of Dr. Tyrell's eye sockets.

In the climax of this scifi wonder, Deckard has a standoff with the enraged Roy inside what has to be the creepiest house in all of futuristic Los Angeles. A nightmarish chase scene follows, which leads the foes onto the rainy rooftop. In pure desperation, Deckard finds himself dangling from a slippery ledge with the menacing Roy looming just above. The blade runner loses his grip, falling into the darkness below until the towering replicant single handedly grabs him and raises him to eye level. Deckard trembles as Roy looks him directly in the eyes, declaring, "Quite and experience to live in fear, isn't it? That's what it is to be a slave."

With his primary goal of striking the fear of God into the blade runner accomplished, Roy peacefully sits beside Deckard as the rain cascades around them. Roy wraps his arms around himself and says, "I've seen things you people would never believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain..." Then, with his final breath, he utters the words, "Time to die." Thoughts clearly race through Deckard's head as he disbelievingly looks on at the lifeless android. The once thought soulless replicant, who could have easily killed him, has spared his life.

When I first heard Roy deliver his powerful soliloquy, I was a bit awe-stricken. I believe this comment is very relevant in today's conversation as we advance in the fields of science. This makes me wonder at what point is an entity really alive, and what does it really mean to have a soul? What does it mean to feel? To love? And what gives man the authority to confidently answer these questions? These thoughts seem to race through our heroes mind as well.

The sun rises as police arrive to find Deckard shivering on the rooftop. As he departs to find Rachael, a fellow blade runner shouts, "It's too bad she won't live! But then again, who does?" More deep, thought provoking words packed on at the end of the film. With this statement running through his head, Deckard heads out to find Rachael.

The final shot of the film concludes as Deckard steals away with his replicant lover.

Scott and company may have been a bit off on their estimation of earth in 2019, with the flying cars and space travel and what not, but they certainly crafted a beautiful setting which entrances the audience's imagination. As a scifi/film noir stunner, Blade Runner takes full advantage of the shadow play in the dark, fantasy world of futuristic Los Angeles. With this powerful combination of noir style of cinematography and scifi synthetic scoring, Blade Runner creates a one of a kind experience that viewers will, or at least should, never forget.

At least I know I won't.

If you're a fan of the Blade Runner story, you may also enjoy the book on which the film was based: "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep."




Wednesday, May 11, 2011

#98. Yankee Doodle Dandy



Year: 1942

Director: Michael Curtiz

Academy Awards:

  • Best Actor in a Leading Role
  • Best Music, Scoring of a Motion Picture
  • Best Sound, Recording
Patriotism, singing, dancing, virtually no conflict... what's not to like? Yankee Doodle Dandy tells the life story of Vaudeville legend George M. Cohan (James Cagney). When it comes to classic song and dance flicks, I'm more of a Bing Crosby White Christmas kind of guy, but I can respect the talent showcased in this film.

Truthfully, I was never really sold on Cohan or Yankee Doodle Dandy. About halfway through the film, I realized that the only conflict that had arisen was the simple fact that Cohan was an overbearingly pompous character. I mean, sure, he has a few sad moments, but they are always quickly resolved as he dances his way onto the next show. I thought we would see some nice conflict when Cohan gives his wife's song to the more talented Fay Templeton, but apparently there's nothing flowers and a box of chocolates can't fix. In the latter stages we learn that the Lusitania was sunk by a German U-boat, which gives Cohan a new purpose of writing music to inspire the troops. I suppose I began to warm up to the man toward the end, but I may have just been trying to morally salvage the last 126 minutes of my life.

While I found the story less than captivating, I can not give enough praise to the art direction. In the world of black and white film, art direction is critical. Yankee Doodle Dandy is filled with a multitude of color shades ranging everywhere from the blackest blacks to the whitest whites. There were actually moments when I almost forgot that I was watching in black and white. For example, when watching the giant flag showcased in "It's a Grand Old Flag."

You have to give props to James Cagney as well, and the Academy certainly acknowledged this. The man could sing, dance, and act. He was a true triple threat. The style of his song and dance wore on me from time to time, but the man was talented and there's just no way around it.

As portrayed in the film, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt did present Cohan with the Congressional Gold Medal for the morale his songs provided during World War I. The film closes nicely as Cohan, a man who felt outdated, marches off in a parade of soldiers and civilians as they sing his anthem, "Over There."Cohan walks silently, living in the moment until a soldier asks, "Hey, old timer! Don't you know this song?" Cohan smiles and marches on as he vigorously joins along in song. This is a powerful scene, even if it does set Congressional precedent for Toby Keith to receive a Congressional Medal of Honor...

With all this being said, I'm glad I took time to watch this classic. Cagney put on quite a show, the art direction was beautiful, and I can only imagine the morale boost this film must have provided for the United State of America during World War II. If you're a fan of "Yankee Doodle Dandy", "It's A Grand Old Flag" or "Give My Regards to Broadway", then I think you'll take quite a liking to Yankee Doodle Dandy.

#99. Toy Story



Year: 1995

Director: John Lasseter

Synopsis: Woody, a young boy's favorite pull-string cowboy doll, faces extreme jealously when a cutting-age spaceman, Buzz Lightyear, begins to take his place at the top of the toy box.

Coming in at number 99 on our countdown is Disney's Toy Story, a film which not only toyed with the idea of a computer animated film, but challenged the industry to look to infinity, and beyond. As the pioneer to the Pixar dynasty, Toy Story went into the record books as the first feature film to be visually created entirely in CGI.


Toy Story begins as any toy centered film should, on the floor of a child's bedroom. We quickly meet Andy, a young boy with an inspired imagination. His bedroom has been transformed into a wild west scenario in which we find the dastardly Mr. Potato Head robbing the town bank. Things look grim for the helpless townsfolk until a heroic cowboy named Woody (Tom Hanks) steps onto the scene. With a well placed, "Reach for the sky", Andy's favorite toy successfully puts the villain in his place. After a job well done, Andy runs downstairs to see his mom. As he exits the room, the toys slowly begin to come to life. Rumor has it that a birthday party is on the horizon, an event that will forever change toy town. The following 90 minutes provide a comedic adventure packed with pure Disney magic.

While Toy Story is tells a very entertaining story, we can each take away some valuable lessons from this film.

First, jealousy can get the best of you. In this story, our hero Woody comes down with an egregious case of envy when the spaceman toy of every child's dream, Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) begins to steal his spotlight. Fully equipped with a space-age laser blaster and a retractable set of wings, Buzz becomes the newest apple of Andy's eye as Woody shamefully hides his pull-string. As jealousy overtakes our faithful sheriff, things become progressively worse and worse until he finds himself desperately trying to escape the nightmarish neighbor's house. Only by embracing the toy that threatens his relevance does Woody finally find the means to overcome his conflict and reunite with the boy he loves.

Second, we learn that our role in life does not have to define us. For the majority of the film, Buzz neglects to acknowledge that he is indeed a toy. Instead, he carries about as Buzz Lightyear of Star Command, an astronaut desperately trying to return to space in order to complete his mission. Woody does his best to explain that Buzz is a toy by proclaiming, "YOU ARE A TOY! You are not the real Buzz Lightyear! You are a child's play thing!", but Buzz calmly replies, "you are a strange, sad little man." However, in the midst of trying to escape from the neighbor's torturous house, Buzz happens to come across a television commercial for the Buzz Lightyear doll. Reality begins to set in as our protagonist sees the words "Not a flying toy" flash across the bottom of the screen. In sorrow and disbelief, Buzz attempts to soar to freedom through an open window, but Randy Newman's voice takes its cue as Buzz plummets to the hard floor below. After a harsh fall and an identity crisis as "Mrs. Nezbit", Buzz comes to his senses and accepts his role as a toy, a toy who is loved by a little boy who needs him. Buzz resolves his internal conflict and joins forces with Woody to make a daring escape, followed by an even more daring pursuit of their loving owner.

Most importantly, we learn to remain children at heart. I truly enjoyed Toy Story just as much at age twenty three as I did at age seven when the film first came to theaters. This film pulls at our hearts strings while reminding us of the days when our imaginations dared to soar. Watching Toy Story makes me think of all the good ole days when I would lose myself for hours on end with nothing but a few matchbox cars and my imagination. Basically, there just aren't many films that can reach this sort of emotional level with audiences across the board, but Toy Story is certainly one of them. AFI Film #99 gets two thumbs way up.