Friday, November 13, 2009

Review of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

This film marks the second entry on AFI's Top 100 American Movies list for screenwriter William Goldman, the other being All the President's Men. You also might remember him as the guy who did the screenplays for The Princess Bride, Misery, The Ghost and the Darkness, Marathon Man, and a host of other famous movies. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is a great screenplay and it's a great movie too.

The dialogue is witty, Paul Newman and Robert Redford are insufferably charismatic, and the plot is offbeat and fun. Butch and Sundance are two-bit outlaws in a world that is changing. They know they are destined to die bloody and the only thing they can do is choose where. A Superposse is on their trail. Their flight takes them across the American southwest, to New York, and finally to Uruguay. It's a fun adventure that has aged well, except for a bizarre 1970s soundtrack.


I would like to take this opportunity for a digression about the 70's. I once read a screenwriting book by William Goldman entitled “Adventures in the Screen Trade”. Apparently, after BCatSC and AtPM (you figure out the acronyms), Goldman was Hollywood's darling-boy. I may just be engaging in ass-speak, but “Adventures in the Screen Trade” may very well have been the first in a series of recent books written to capitalize on suckers who want to write and sell a screenplay for a million dollars; you know, suckers like me.

Anyway, at the back of the book is included the original screenplay for BCatSC. I read the screenplay before I saw the movie. In some respects, the movie was exactly as I imagined. The obvious exception was the 70's music. In his book, Goldman says he likes the music of the movie, claiming that in many ways, the popular music of today is similar to popular music of the 1900s. I think he's wrong. Nothing, no decade in history was like the 70's. Today, when one views the famous scene in which Butch pedals Etta around on a bicycle, the musical addition of “Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head” inspires laughter. One expects a feather-hatted pimp in a purple suit to strut past them.

What the hell was up with the 70's, anyway? I may have been born in 1976, but my earliest memory is from 1980. I've asked a few members of the previous generation what was up with the 70's and I've received only knowing smiles and evasive answers. The impression I get is that the boomers are embarrassed of the 70's but loved it while it was happening.

From what I understand, the 70's were a time of unprecedented freedom of expression. It was the triumph of the 60's hippie movement. Many view the 70's as Hollywood's golden age. People could truly “do their own thing” and be respected for it. There was an explosion of weirdness in pop culture. Clothing was outrageous. Musicians explored minimalism and trance. Drugs were cool.

All of this shows in the movies of the time. You want to put modern music in a historical western? Cool, man. You want to end your crime thriller on an ambiguous note? Groovy. You want to go to Peru, spend the film's budget on drugs, waste two years editing it and then sober-up naked by the side of a desert highway holding a rock in your left hand? Here's a million dollars.

Freedom of expression is good, right? Ditto with artistic freedom? So why is it that the movies produced in the 70's have, for the most part, aged so poorly? Even Star Wars, a movie that defined the modern blockbuster, has distracting 70's hairstyles. What went wrong?

I blame the corporate mindset. I believe that, as a result of corporate meddling, North Americans have become more conservative since the days of bell bottoms. While it is true that sexism and racism have diminished significantly since those days, or at least gone underground, we seem to have less tolerance for art and expression which is “different”. When we view the 70's through a modern, conformist lens, of course it looks ridiculous.


In the 70's, the director and screenwriter had control of the picture. Nowadays, movies are conceptualized by producers and committees. Very few blockbusters start with a great screenplay. They start in a board room where a bunch of bigwigs decide which nostalgic toy or old television show they should make a movie about. The screenplay comes later, after Hasbro has been consulted as to which characters and action sets they will be manufacturing. Producers tell writers which action sequences they want featured. Dialogue and action are edited according to the standards set by the MPAA so that more kids can attend. It's a soulless way to make a movie and I believe it has limited our artistic tastes as a society.

So which is worse, the off-the-leash, overly-artistic and bizarre filmmaking 70's hits, or the cynical, greedy and formulaic blockbusters of today? Would you rather watch the interminable Dennis Hopper piece of garbage, The Last Movie, or the shitfest that is G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra? You decide.

The issue is too hard for me. It all comes back to William Goldman, who said regarding how movies are made and predictions of their financial success, “Nobody Knows Anything”. All I know is Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is an amusing show.
4 ½ lawmen on your tail out of 5

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Review of Silence of the Lambs

This is it, folks. The movie that set the standard for all those crime thrillers about an unlikely cop/detective/federal agent on the trail of a quirky and brutal serial killer. It's the genre that a generation of beginning screenwriters have tried to mimic to make a million dollars. The Silence of the Lambs did it first, and as far as I'm concerned, it did it the best.



Anthony Hopkins in the role of Hannibal Lecter is truly scary in a compelling way. When the movie takes a major digression from the plot to follow his escape attempt, the viewer really doesn't mind. While movies are filming, do actors know they are playing roles that will become icons?

On the opposite end of the spectrum of creepiness is Ted Levine's Buffalo Bill character. He is a gigantic, terrifying moth. He lives in darkness. With the aid of night vision goggles, he sees in the dark. He follows his desires to become a woman, just as a caterpillar becomes a moth, with horrifying result.

I'm glad I watched it.
4 skinned murder victims out of 5

Friday, October 30, 2009

Review of In the Heat of the Night

It's very interesting to think about how films age. Viewed from modern eyes, In the Heat of the Night is nothing special. To many, the primitive methods used by police to solve a murder mystery are cliched from countless detective stories produced since, and are pretty obsolete when compared to the high-tech and far-fetched ways in which murders are solved on CSI. The moralizing around racism in Mississippi is old news: we're modern people and most of us agree that violent lynchings are bad.



However, this was not the case in 1967. Then, America was in the midst of a raging civil rights battle. Songs like "Nigger Hatin' Me" received radio play. To many people, the idea of a black man slapping a white man was truly shocking. It happens in this movie, and it was apparently one of the first times something like that had happened on the big screen. As for the policing, I can imagine the forensic work was, at the time, considered to be quite clever and cutting edge.

But now, it's not. It's all been done countless times and developed in new ways since. While this movie may have done it first, but it's hard not to see it as cliche. During the screening, I told myself repeatedly that it wasn't cliche, it was iconic, but it didn't work. In short, it didn't age very well.

This is not to say I didn't enjoy it on some level. It had some great dialogue, including the very powerful and famous line, "They call me MISTER Tibbs!", which went on to become the title of a sequel. Sidney Poitier was a powerful screen presence. Taken together, all of these things added up to a solid "meh".

2 1/2 drunken rednecks out of 5

Friday, October 23, 2009

Review of Forrest Gump

Back in 1995, my first reaction to Forrest Gump was very unfavourable. You see, I watched it on video after the Academy Awards in which it won best picture. At the time, I REALLY wanted Pulp Fiction to win. I was a rabid fan, and in my young mind any film that competed with my favourite movie had to be utter shit.

My criticisms of the film were quite scathing. I came up with this whole theory about how it is the perfect Dumbass American movie. The soft-hearted and soft-headed Forrest gump blunders through life and succeeds utterly. The message seemed to me to be, "Don't think very hard, follow your heart and you'll succeed." Kindly semi-retardation was being glorified as the ultimate American virtue. Yet, at that time in my life I loved Homer Simpson. Funny, that.



I was fully conscious of my old feelings as I turned on the DVD player, but I was willing to give the movie a chance. I'm glad I did. It turns out that Forrest Gump is a decent show.

I'm not saying that what I thought in 1995 wasn't correct on some level: there is a certain sector of American society that rejects contemplation and introspection, glorifying rushing through life roaring and knocking stuff over. However, I'm no longer certain that this is what Forrest Gump is about. Rather, Forrest's governing trait is selflessness.

Forrest loves those he cares about without concern for appearances and strikes out at those who harm them without fear of physical or social retribution. It makes him fearless. His selflessness is what allows him to float (like the feather at the beginning and end of the movie) from opportunity to opportunity without fear for losing what he has. Near the end of the movie, Forrest addresses this himself: "I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same time." Something about this line strikes me not as dumb Americanism, but rather Taoism. Is the ultimate message of Forrest Gump to approach each moment in life with love and without fear?



One symbol in the movie still perplexes me: "Run, Forrest, run!" Running appears everywhere in the film. Forrest runs from rednecks chasing him in a truck. Does this mean that he runs from his problems? No, because he also runs back into the jungle to save fallen soldiers. So he runs to solve his problems? No, because near the end of the movie, after a particularily awful jilt from the love of his life, he runs across America several times and it gets him nowhere. Answers.com is equally unhelpful. In answer to the question "Why was Forrest running?", it says "Because he felt like it." This answer is unsatisfying unless viewed from a Zen perspective.

Again with the Eastern philosophy. Some may accuse me of reading too much into a dumb movie like this. Well, I know enough about screenwriting to say that most scripts are written by brainy people. Even Transformers had hidden moral messages.

So it appears that Forrest Gump is a complicated movie about a simple man. It is definitely worth watching again, although many scenes are marred by some awful product-placements and an overly sappy musical score.
4 Presidential audiences out of 5