In Cold Blood (USA; Richard Brooks, 1967)

  Like Truman Capote's book on which it is based, In Cold Blood is a reconstruction of true events presented in fiction form. The gripping result is a testament to the power fiction has in shaping emotions and ironically making us sensitive to real events. Taking the book's two murderers as protagonists, the film follows Dick Hickock (Scott Wilson) and Perry Smith (Robert Blake) before and after committing the crime refered-to in the title. The crime in question, however, is not seen until the end (as opposed to the central position it holds in the book), a cinematic choice in line with the escalating nature of narrative fiction. Shown through flashbacks narrated by Perry as he waits on death row, the mass murder of an innocent Kansas family is still brutally shocking today; one can only imagine how it must have been received in its day.

 Richard Brooks, who always seems fascinated by socially marginal characters (Blackboard Jungle; Elmer Gantry; The Professionals), is at his best here as he captures real-life social angst and aptly projects it on screen in the form of Dick and Perry, whose portrayals are as vulnerable as they are menacing. Fluidly told through alternations following both criminals and investigators, the film's strongest element is its visuals. Gloriously shot by Conrad Hall, the breathtakingly expressive black-and-white photography not only brilliantly conveys the atmosphere of the crime in general but is also quite reflective of the suggested state of mind experienced by the killers. While it is reinforced by edgy dialogue, exquisite mise-en-scene and convincingly strong performances, In Cold Blood could stand on its images alone, being of the few titles I wouldn't mind watching on mute.

The Long Goodbye (USA; Robert Altman, 1973)



    Finally! I had been meaning to watch this for years and never got around to it for reasons that are still unclear to me; I mean I bought it over two years ago and waited until now to watch it in its entirety. So much movies to watch I guess. Although The Long Goodbye is easily one of those that makes you want to slap yourself in the face for waiting this long to see it; especially if you're an Altman fan. And a Chandler fan. Perhaps one of the reasons I waited was to be able to read to book first, which I did a few months ago. This little detail made the film that more enjoyable to watch, always fun to observe the differences that exist between both mediums. Incidentally, no bigger gap existst between source and adaptation then it does for the ending, which inevitably affects the evolution of Philip Marlowe (Elliot Gould) and therefore the narrative's thematic concerns. All of this falls in line with Altman's presumed goal of deconstructing the typical private-eye film. In selecting Chandler's Marlowe, arguably litterature's most famous private dick, as his main protagonist, Altman acknowledges audiences' expectations with a the simple purpose of destroying them. Right from the start, the sharp, quick-talking Marlowe is turned into a smart-ass slob who can't even manage to feed his cat. The investigation in question seems to hover only in the background, the film's essence coming from the relationships between the various characters which are brough to life by a string of memorable performances, including Sterling Hayden's loud and imposing Roger Wade. Mark Rydell is also noteworthy, his funny yet threatening portrayal of persistent crime boss Augustine one of the film's hightlights (and the source of the film's unexpected scene of brutal violence).

 Stylistically, Long Goodbye is emblematic of Altman's strongest trademarks, including the extensive use of overlapping off-screen sound and moving camera that endows the films with its steady, unflinching rythm, something always present to be seen with a wandering eye. As funny as it is reflective, The Long Goodbye is unique, unprecedented and unequaled in the private eye genre.

Lifeforce (UK; Tobe Hooper, 1985)

  Well this was different; by today's standards anyway. As for the 80s, it fits in perfectly. While perhaps a bit dated on the special effects front, Lifeforce is still suprisingly effective in creating discomfort and puzzlement in its viewers, even if it does so between laughing fits instigated by scenes that have become hard to take seriously. Of course, the same could be said of the film as a whole. The discovery of three naked hibernating bodies in the a spaceship idling in the tail of Haley's comet leads to the unleashing of choatic madness in the streets of London. When the hibernators are brough back to earth, it is soon discovered that they are not human but alien beings that feed off the lifeforce of humans, literally sucking them dry and transforming them in to near-dead beings who need to suck life themselves before shatering into petrified dust. Much could be said about the psychological implications of the principal threat coming in the form of a naked woman (Mathilda May) who gets her energy fix through kissing, sucking the life out of her victims' mouths. When the colonel (Steve Railsback) of the original, presumed-dead team that discovered the aliens is found in an escape pod, he soon realizes that he is the only one that can put an end to this whole mess. Joined by a federal cop (Peter Firth), he sets out to find the deadly succubus he has unleashed on the world.

   While the film sometimes slips and falls narrative-wise, Lifeforce is still rather lots of fun, the graphic nature of its horrors still strong enough to induce awe and disgusted giggles. The entire ordeal is greatly aided by Hooper's polished imagery, his welcomed visual sensibility imposing itself on the looseness of the script in what seems like an attempt to make us forget its ficitional discrepancies. While not as career-defining as Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) or Poltergeist (1982), Lifeforce still testifies to Hooper's creative talent and proves itself an emblematic product of its time.

Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole (USA/Australia; Zack Snyder, 2010)

   I'm not usually a big fan of animal-starring 3D animation films so I was suprised to have enjoyed this one as much as I did. I was initially sceptical of a movie about owls but my friend's passion for them led me to join him in a screening; and I wasn't disappointed. As funny as it is action-packed, Legend of the Guradians is one of the rare, true examples of a film marketed for children that is equally, if not more, appealing to adults as well. Director Zack Snyder takes his lateral, sporadic slow-motion action style, made famous by 300 and Watchmen, and transposes it not only into the animation realm, but into the air as well, creating free-flowing battles between opposing feathered armies, the spectacle of which is the film's greatest strength. While the characters and narrative are inspired in themselves, where Legend really shines is in its visuals, the flying sequences being some of the most beautiful ones to show up in recent memory. Hard-put to come up with a title that has such convincing textures (the water in Surf's Up does come to mind though), I was blown away by the crispness of the images and (this always fascinates me) the human quality in the facial expressions that endow the owls with recognizably unique personalities. Legend of the Guardians is as majestic as it is engaging, the perfect vehicle for those looking to fly off and temporarily escape the grounded existence of human life.

Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid (USA; Carl Reiner, 1982)

   I had seen numerous clips of this film noir spoof but had never screened it in its entirety until now. Seeing as I've been a long-time fan of both the noir genre and Steve Martin, needless to say I found this intelligently stupid parody greatly enjoyable. The perfect vehicle for Martin's deadpan, casual flakiness, Dead Men is astutely sophisticated in its satirical manipulation of film noir conventions, mocking while simultaneously giving tribute to this post-WWII cinematic movement. The film follows private eye (of course) Rigby Reardon (Martin) as he attempts to uncover some sinister plot that grows more and more absurd as the frames move along. Hired by a mysterious woman (Rachel Ward) who can extract bullets with her teeth, Reardon encounters iconic film noir personalities throughout his investigation, their parts in the plot shown through footage taken from actual noir films of that era. Humphrey Bogart's Philip Marlowe (whose quotes are plastered all over Reardon's office walls like scripture) heads the line-up of stars from the golden age that pop-up incessantly during the picture, including Ava Gardner, Ray Milland, Barbara Stanwyck, Burt Lancaster, Veronica Lake, Lana Turner and many others, the recognition of the films chosen to be inserted into the narrative adding greatly to the picture's appeal, the juxtaposition of old and new being cleverly constructed. Further adding to this is the change in context concerning the dialogue taken from the older scenes, in itself a testament to the formative powers of editing. Making fun of film noir's self-inflicted tendency of being over-complicated (as indicated by its repetitive inclusion of Bogart as Marlowe from The Big Sleep, a film known for its intentional confusion), Dead Men is absurd in the best sense of the word, letting the viewer slip into cinematic nostalgia while simultaneously cracking up to Martin's unique blend of comedy in what is arguably one of his best early titles.

Brooklyn's Finest (USA; Antoine Fuqua, 2009)

   It's a shame that Brooklyn's Finest doesn't really have a point other than establishing violent death as the only solution to law enforcement calamities. Beautifully shot, the film's gritty depiction of a world filled with crime and injustice, while often harrowing, remains but only that: a depiction. It doesn't seem to give the viewer any comment or offer any alternatives to the dysfuntional state of the NYPD that it portrays through the three disparate narratives of its protagonists: Sal (Ethan Hawke), a high-strung detective desperately seeking extra-cash; Eddie (Richard Gere), a suicidal soon-to-be-retiree who's in love with a prostitute; and Tango (Don Cheadle), a decade-long undercover cop looking for a way out. Through the various tribulations we see these characters endure, we are dually exposed to an inexperienced and exhausted police force whose lack of effective structure ultimately lead to the loss of innocent lives (a fact we are reminded of by media inserts throughout the film). While clichés abound and the character's evolution are quite predictable, the film is greatly redeemed by the crisp night-time photography and, most notably, its performances. Never having been a big fan of Gere, I was surprised by his subdued and convincing portrayal of an empty man futilely seeking to fill his void (which of course he eventually achieves through acts of violence). And as usual, Hawke and Cheadle give engagingly strong performances, the latter's Tango arguably being the film's most honorable character. The film is also strengtened by the appearance of Ellen Barkin and Wesley Snipes, refreshing as a multi-targeted crime boss. While it lacks the social awareness and psychologial depth of earlier cop dramas like Narc (Joe Carnahan, 2002) or Dark Blue (Ron Shelton), Brooklyn's Finest remains a fine addition to the cop-film family, another brutal reflection on the hardening times gone through by the boys in blue.

The Sandlot (USA; David M. Evans, 1993) - Revisited

   Me writing about this film, while being a tribute to what I consider to be one of the best films ever made about baseball, also serves to explain why I haven't written much about films lately, my last post strangely coinciding with the start of the new baseball season and the beginning of my addiction to mlb.tv. Having the time and opportunity to watch ballgames this season, that's exactly what I'm doing. Obviously I will also be watching films during the summer and when I hit on one that's worth mentioning I will surely write about it. Interestingly enough, the movies I have been watching lately, due in part to my surroundings, have been children's films and therefore had a chance to re-experience one of my childhood favorites, once again following Smalls, Bennie 'the Jet' Rodriguez and the rest of the baseball ruffians in The Sandlot as they try to get their priceless baseball back from the Beast, a neighborhood watchdog. Focusing primarily on baseball as a unifying enterprise, The Sandlot is part of a small group of children's pictures of the 90s which stand-out amongst its peers as not having any antagonists per say, letting the children's innocence blossom and grow unencumbered without any imminent (usually criminal) threat from the outside (adult) world; an innocence that gets shattered through the normal course of childhood rather than by an imposed adult intrusion. While there are adults in the picture, their understanding of common elements differ widely in perception (the most crucial of which being the Babe Ruth-signed baseball) and the film's central threat turns out to be unfounded and erroneous. The only thing that can be taken at face-value in The Sandlot is baseball, the only reality that remains unchanged and unfazed from beginning to end. In setting the film in the 60's, the film also brings us back to when the game was just a game, before the days of 275 M$ contracts and HGH, reminding us that only kids really know how to play the game.