Nashville (1975)

Review:

“We are Nashville…Please somebody sing!” These are the pleading words of a desperate musician in Robert Altman’s panoramic film, Nashville. A whirlwind exploration of the country music industry, Nashville proves to be more an exploration of America during a period of political and social uncertainty.

Unlike the more sacrilegious rock and roll, country music has always been invested in nostalgia: missing home and loved ones, pride in one’s family and country, and the belief that God is watching. Altman uses this music as the gateway into the plethora of characters in this film that collectively represent Nashville and America. Nashville has a strange and unlikely centerpiece. It is not the recording studio or one particular musician but instead an independent party’s campaign for the presidency. Although we never see him, Hal Phillip Walker is the presidential candidate the film orbits. He has already won three primaries, promising the abolition of the Electoral College and removal of lawyers from Congress. He now seeks to win Tennessee’s primary by holding a large rally at which Nashville’s most famous country stars will perform. But, as is so typical in a Robert Altman film, aside from that underlying plot there is a plentitude of subplots. Most involve the country musicians struggling to gain recognition while others struggle to keep it. Henry Gibson plays Haven Hamilton, a former country legend whose fame is now on the wane. Ronee Blakely plays Barbra Jean an angelic country phenomenon on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Both these actors play their characters with a note of pity that is often overshadowed by their large egos and dignity. Another fine performance is Lily Tomlin as Linnea Reese, a choir leader and neglected wife, who struggles to be cheery with her deaf children.

But what links all these characters is not actually the music or the political rally. These characters are thematically linked by how lost they are. Selling themselves to causes and to demanding fans, these musicians have forfeited their personal sense of nostalgia and home that country music preaches. But with the addition of having each musician sell out to the phantom Presidential candidate Hal Phillip Walker, Altman makes the larger claim that it is ultimately America that has lost its sense of home. When we cannot trust the people in charge how can we sing a happy song and mean it?

Robert Altman has never made a light comedy or a heavy drama. His films are hard to classify. They are either brilliantly dark or intelligently hopeful. I can never decide. But regardless, Nashville will continue to speak to subsequent viewers, so long as politics and country music can coexist.

Review:

On a scale of one to Casablanca this film is a "Tender Mercies."

Rationalization:

I do not love country music, but I seem to love movies about country music. Strange phenomenon. I suppose you could say the same thing about serial killers. Anyways, this movie strikes a chord (Ha!) about the music industry and all its ins and outs - from the stars to the has-beens, to the fanatics. Its not quite a satire and not quite reality and maybe thats just where Altman's films always lay.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (1987)

Review:

I can’t exactly pin point why, but I have a theory that John Hughes understands more about the human psyche than most psychiatrists. For instance, he understands that there are but two ways to cope with travel: one is to go with the flow, not worry much, and have a good time. The other is to expect everything to follow a certain schedule and when that doesn’t happen, become enraged. And Hughes, in his delightful 1987 comedy, Plains, Trains, and Automobiles, pits these traveling behaviors against one another in a fierce battle of endurance.

The plot is simple. Businessman Neal Page, played by Steve Martin, is trying to fly home to Chicago from a business meeting in New York City. It is two days before Thanksgiving. At the airport, he meets Del Griffith, a talkative, innocently oblivious salesman. When their flight is cancelled, stranding them in Kansas, Del and Neal begin a haphazard road trip together. As suggested by the title, they employ many means of transportation but none of them proves fully adequate in getting them to Chicago.

An underlying theme for every road movie, be it Easy Rider or Road Trip, is that the journey itself is more important than the destination. Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is no different. There are sentimental moments where truths are uncovered, emotional breakthroughs occur, and your heart feels a little warm. But this film is not successful for those reasons. This film is a comedy and it knows that with confidence. Most of the comedy derives from Neal Page’s inability to accept his stranded fate and Del’s innate enjoyment of their situation.

Notice how many times Neal Page nearly gets killed in this movie. It happens more than once and it’s almost always his own fault. No matter how much he tries to gain control of his traveling situation, he never gets anywhere without Del’s help. This speaks to Neal’s larger problem. He is so caught up in his work and self-interest that he never gets anywhere in life. His children and wife perpetually sit at home waiting and longing for Neal to be a real presence in their life.

John Candy gives a wonderfully enthusiastic performance as Del. You can tell Del might be an infuriating character to sit next to on a plane, but in the end, you can’t help but care for him. Steve Martin delivers yet another a great performance as a man out of his element that can only express his frustration in mad gesticulations. With Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, writer and director John Hughes has tapped into the all too common frustration of travel and reveals how deeply human (and humorous) those botched plans can make us.

Rating:

On a scale of one to Casablanca, this film is a "Dog Day Afternoon"

Rationalization:

This film is more affecting than I thought it would be. I found it surprisingly touching. There is a room in my heart for things that leave sweet aftertastes and this is one of those films. John Hughes films have a way of doing that, honestly - maybe more often than I should admit. "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles" warms and alarms. And God, God Bless that John Candy. If he's not in heaven, I want nothing to do with it.

The Front (1976)

Review:

Martin Ritt’s The Front is a movie with a good heart suffering from indigestion. Fluttering between light comedy and slight drama, it never reaches the consistent tone one would hope from a film about Hollywood blacklisting. It weaves through funny one-liners but never can laugh at its main subject.

Set in the early 1950s, The Front stars Woody Allen in a rare appearance when he did not also write or direct the film. Allen plays Howard Prince, a lowly cashier who is always getting into financial troubles because of his bad gambling habits. Howard’s close friend, Alfred Miller (the name Miller, perhaps a nod to blacklisted author Arthur Miller), is a television writer recently blacklisted for his ties to the communist party. In order to keep working as a writer, Arthur, portrayed by Michael Murphy, asks Howard to be ‘the front’ for his scripts. After agreeing, Howard takes Arthur’s scripts to the network and passes them off as his own, taking a ten percent cut from the paycheck.

Soon the wily Howard, always looking for an extra buck, becomes the front for more blacklisted writers. He is soon haled as the greatest writer on television. But his fame has a cost. Blacklisted actor Hecky Brown, played by the legendary Zero Mostel, is enlisted by the network to spy on Howard, searching for any connection the mysterious writer may have to the communist party.

With the likes of identity swapping, entertainment spy games, and Woody Allen, one would expect this film to be an uproarious comedy. But the laughs never come to fruition. This film feels like a volcano of hilarity ready to burst, but instead we get only tremors from the great comedy that lay below.

For instance, when Howard is inevitably subpoenaed to appear in front of the House of Un-American Activities Commitee, he claims to his writer friends that he will not name names; that he has a plan figured out. Now, Woody Allen in front of the House of Un-American Activities Committee is a situation brimming with possibilities – especially if he has some screwball scheme to out the Committee as the xenophobic, art-hating bureaucrats they must be. But Howard’s plan simply proves a muddled attempt at dodging a bullet. There are no boisterous attacks, he does not cleverly outwit the system, and he does not attempt anything comically absurd. When Allen finally delivers the punch line of the scene, I laughed, but I did not stand up and applaud Howard’s supposed ‘sticking it to the man.’ At the climax of the film, I felt unfulfilled.

There are two problems with The Front. One is Woody Allen. Howard Prince has all the narcissism and self-interest of a typical Woody Allen character but he lacks the self-doubting, neuroses that make a usual Allen character so likeable. Howard transforms into the role of famed writer so easily that it feels like we’re missing out on the fun of a big identity crisis. The second problem involves director Martin Ritt and writer Walter Bernstein. We find out during the credits that Ritt and Bernstein were both blacklisted in the 1950s. It seems with The Front, these two men tried to find humor in the predicament of McCarthyism but could not fully commit to a farce about blacklisting. Perhaps it was too personal a subject or perhaps they made this film with too much of a moral poise. Regardless, the script and directing seem restrained. Zero Mostel is emblematic of this. He plays the troubled, alcoholic actor who becomes a martyr for the blacklisted. This is a mistake. If you have the volatile and loveable Zero Mostel in your project, you should make your audience laugh hard and then afterward make them think. The Front is a movie that tries to make you think before you laugh and it suffers for it.

Rating: On a scale of one to Casablanca, this film is a "Hollywood Ending"

Rationalization:

Its Woody Allen. Its pretty funny. Its not all it could be. I love Woody Allen and he really can do no wrong in my opinion, and yet he certainly can do mediocre. This film, in the grand scheme of all movies, is pretty good, and worth a second viewing if you happen upon it. Otherwise, there may be better things to explore. Go watch "On the Waterfront."

Judgement at Nuremberg (1961)

Review:

Many of the greatest war movies never approach the battlefield. They look at the causes and consequences of war, but never engage in the brutal action. Some examples of this type of film would be Altman’s MASH or Wyler’s The Best Years of Our Lives. These films look deep into the shadows of war but never let you see the monster itself. Consequently war becomes all the scarier.

Director Stanley Kramer’s 1961 film Judgement at Nuremberg is yet another example of such a film. With an all-star cast, including Spencer Tracey, Burt Lancaster, and Judy Garland, Judgement at Nuremberg explores the conflict between personal and national responsibility of the Nazi War crimes. The film chronicles a fictionalized Nuremberg trial in which four German judges are being tried for their adherence to Nazi law. Chief Judge Dan Haywood (Tracey) has been summoned from the United States to preside on a tribunal that will oversee the proceedings. Burt Lancaster gives one of his most solemn performances as Dr. Ernst Janning, one of the German judges on trial. In his stoic silence you can sense this man has been crippled by his shame. Actor Maximillian Schell, in an Oscar winning performance, plays Hans Rolfe, the young lawyer who defends the German judges with the troubled conviction that, “A judge does not make the laws, he carries out the laws of his country.”

Judgment at Nuremberg does not tap dance over moral ambiguities. Director Stanley Kramer and writer Abby Mann are not confronting easy issues and they know it. What truly makes this film complex is the exploration of the German people’s own responsibility in the war crimes. Can four men really be held accountable for war crimes when the German populace turned a blind eye? And how much guilt must we all assume if these men are not found guilty? These sorts of issues could never be explored on a battlefield of World War II. Only in a courtroom or in the streets of broken cities can the guilt and responsibility of war be most fully understood.

The film is also beautifully shot with great use of deep focus. Every frame seems reminiscent of detailed trial sketches. Judgement at Nuremberg can be called a courtroom drama but it travels so deep into the heart of a tragic war and a troubled nation that I can do nothing but think of it as a war film. Eloquent, troubling, and at times deeply disturbing, Judgement at Nuremberg will be remembered as a hallmark of war and courtroom dramas.

Rating:

On a scale of one to Casablanca, this film is a "Doctor Zhivago"

Rationalization:

The scope of this film is epic. The stark, unequivocal judgement about war and war criminals gives a lasting impression to the viewer. In modern films, the fog of war tends to invade all sinews and crevices of the moral world. Nothing is certain in the indifferent universe of the contemporary war film. But "Judgement at Nuremberg" restores a sense of restitution, distinctly drawing the line between right and wrong and having the audacity to say who is in the wrong.

My Dinner with Andre (1981)

Review:

Never have I seen a movie so simple and eloquent as “My Dinner with Andre.” Even with a plot so simple that it can be inferred from the title, this movie is a challenging and wondrous movie about everything. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie about everything that wasn’t also an allegory or parable in some fashion. “My Dinner with Andre” is not a parable or even a story – it is a conversation; one filled with life, death and all the ambiguity that lay in-between.

Wallace Shawn, portraying a semi-fictional version of himself, meets Andre Gregory, also portraying a semi-fictional version of himself, for dinner at an upscale New York City restaurant. Wallace is an unsuccessful playwright and Andre is a former theater director who has long since dropped out from the theater scene. Wallace has not seen Andre in five years. He made this dinner date at the behest of a mutual friend who had recently seen Andre crying in the street after watching an Ingmar Bergman film. Knowing his friend must be going through hard times, Wallace is naturally nervous about this dinner date.

That is the set up for the film and all that information is delivered in about the first five minutes. The rest of the movie is their conversation. At first, their discussion is dominated by Andre’s soliloquies about his travels abroad. He has worked a theater workshop in the woods of Poland, he has invited Tibetan monks to live with his family, he has participated in a ritual that simulated the experience of being buried alive – all apparently in the pursuit of what it means to be truly alive. It seems Andre has been seeking unfettered experience as a way to cope with the inescapable fact of death.

Wallace, when he finally gets a chance to speak, conveys a very different view of what it means to live. He believes that to have a cup of coffee in the morning that has no cockroach floating in it is the essence of life and enough to be happy for. Essentially, “My Dinner with Andre” debates didactic opinions on the best way to live. Andre represents the seeker, a visionary who believes behind all the madness and death of the world that there is something purely beautiful that we can and should seek out. Wallace on the other hand thinks we should live for what is present, appreciating what we have. He is a proponent for the mundane happiness in simply being.

"My Dinner with Andre" sounds like it could be a tiring exercise in pure pretension. Not so. It speaks thoughtfully to the conflicting question in every human mind: is this it or is there something more? And wisely, "My Dinner with Andre" ends with no concise answer.

Rating:

On a scale of one to Casablanca, this film is a "Crimes and Misdemeanors"

Rationalization

Thought provoking and actively searching the nature of our existence, "My Dinner with Andre" thinks on such a big scale it could only be conveyed in one very long, simple scene. I was very moved by this film and found myself thinking about it for many days after seeing it. If thats not the sign of a good film, I don't know what is.

Where the Wild Things Are (2009)

Review:

This is perhaps the best feature length film adaptation of a children’s book I have ever seen. That is not to say it is one of the best adaptations of any work ever – but among its class it reigns supreme. Think of the Dr. Seuss adaptations “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” (2000) and “The Cat in the Hat” (2003). Despicable. They make me want to hurl, wipe my mouth and then go read the originals. They do not capture the fun or the heart of either childrens’ classics. They’re just needlessly weird and stretched too thin.

Spike Jonze’s “Where the Wild Things Are” succeeds where those two movies failed. It triumphantly converts a ten sentence book by Maurice Sendak into a 100 minute film that explores and celebrates what it means to be a kid.

Everyone knows the story from the book. Max misbehaves and is sent to bed without dinner. He then imagines his way on over into the land of the Wild Things where he is declared their king, and then returns home. The film follows that basic format but Spike Jonzes and writer David Eggers have augmented the story to include what happens when Max becomes King of the Wild Things - they build a fort.

The Wild Things are an impressive synthesis of CGI and costumes. They are voiced by the likes of James Gandolfini, Forest Whitaker, and Lauren Ambrose and they are brought to life with distinct personalities and character flaws. The Wild Things do not operate as rational creatures. They are prone to mood swings and sometimes dangerous tantrums.

What I liked most about this movie is how it operates under the parameters of a child’s knowledge of the world. Though the film largely takes place in Max’s imagination, his imagination is not limitless. Max can only imagine what he understands about life and the world and wild things. For instance, when he and the Wild Things build the fort, they make it from materials that any child could employ to make a fort – namely sticks and mud.

The Wild Things also exhibit an array of emotions that make no logical sense. They are gripped with the sadness and rage that a child can observe but not interpret. In this way, the Wild Things come to represent all that is scary, wondrous, and unexplainable about the world in the eyes of a child, and for that matter, for the rest of us.

Rating:

On a scale of one to Casablanca, this film is a "Jurassic Park"

Rationalization:

"Where the Wild Things Are" is effective not because it is the most clever film of our time, but because it evokes a deep rooted nostalgia for what it was like to be a child - and not just the the good memories. The Wild Things are an impeccable integration of CGI and costume. Though they look like no creatures on this earth they looked real enough to believe in and that is all that matters when it comes to movies.

Home Alone (1990)

Review:

John Hughes used to work for an advertising agency. I can’t tell you what his exact job was, but I imagine it had to do with selling products in creative ways – such is my understanding of the advertising industry. Watching “Home Alone” again reminded me that John Hughes was an Ad man. Why, you ask? Because “Home Alone” is perhaps the most perfect film ever made in regards to advertising. Not only does it have a cute kid at its helm (Makauly Culkin), it also preaches to the lowest common denominator of humor – slapstick. And then in the end, the film, gosh darn it all, has a heart. A goddamn heart.

It’s pretty easy to sell a product that has a cute kid in it with bad guys falling down while family values are maintained during Christmas. No wonder it was one of the top grossing films of all time.

And you know what? I really like this film. I think it works. Written by John Hughes and directed by Christ Columbus, “Home Alone” is a vehicle for Macaulay Culkin who possesses that rare quality in a child actor – charisma. He looks into the camera and winks, but somehow he doesn’t quite break that fourth wall. He lets us know he’s in on the joke but doesn’t sacrifice the momentum of the story. And he’s such a kid too.

Everyone knows the story by this point. Young Kevin McCallister is accidentally left home alone by his family who are on their way to spend Christmas in Paris. At times celebrating and at times distraught, Kevin proceeds to do the things we all might have done if left alone as a child – eat ice cream for lunch, watch scary movies, jump on your parent’s bed etc.

Then two burglars try to break into the McCallister home and rob it. But they are thwarted by devious, at times malicious, home-made traps set up by Kevin. The traps are what everyone really remembers about this film. They come out of left field. Most of “Home Alone” has a believable, non-violent sense of humor about it. And then suddenly Joe Pesci is having his head burned off. This sudden change of pace has drawn some criticism over the years, but I think it works. “Home Alone” is at heart bildungsroman - a story of a young boy coming of age. He thwarts the criminals and rises to the challenge of growing up and along the way he realizes that family does in fact matter. This film is like "Catcher in the Rye" for kids. Not really. But maybe...

Rating:

On a scale of one to Casablanca, I give it an "Igby Goes Down."

Rationalization:

While not a dark film per se, "Home Alone" captures some ominous undertones about the family - how easily it can disintegrate and how hard we all must work to keep them together. What I like about this movie is that I essentially believe it. The McCallisters sound like a real family and how they forget Kevin is not all that unbelievable. Its a comedy that could have spun out of control (like all of its sequels) but it develops and sticks to its themes and sells them to us.