Last Movie You Watched

[drogulus]

There are brilliant filmmakers today, making films that are as compelling and as great as anything from the Golden Age, any Golden Age - Paul Thomas Anderson, Alfonso Cuaron, Darren Aronofsky, Nicolas Winding Refn, Wes Anderson (for some, I guess, I loathe what I have seen from him, but no denying his reputation), possibly Quentin Tarantino, other art house faves - and there will be more in the future.

     Yes, I agree.

It can sure seem that way, but I think that in many cases those who aren't "connoisseurs or specialists" of the art don't invest much thought or time on it after a certain point because "life stuff" has sucked up a lot of the leisure time that was once was used for taking in culture. So they wax poetic on that certain time-window in their lives when things seemed so much 'more groovy' etc.

     I thought the films were good back then, not just decades later. And I'm a big fan of the directors Todd mentioned and I've posted on some of them. I even think Wes Anderson is a superior talent in a "I sort of still hate him" kind of way.

     As early as the '80s the extraordinary richness of '70s films was widely recognized, and the blockbuster trend and teenage sex comedy trend and the deliberately low grade sci fi trend were deplored. It wasn't time for nostalgia yet, that would come later. It was mostly everyone young and old who liked films noticing what happened. We noticed right. Good films were still made, that's not what this is about. Someone should make a list of them.

[Octave]

Filmmakers have groaned about those bad men who control studio budgets since the time of DW Griffith.

Griffith actually did something about this scenario when he formed United Artists with Chaplin et al.  That's more than groaning. 
How deep an impact UA (under various management) made in the business, by the 60s, and how different they were from any other movie-house, seems to be a complicated subject; but UA's collapse "because of" (sic) the commercial failure of HEAVEN'S GATE was one of the things that signaled the changes that drogulus is talking about.  It's not a matter of demonizing the moneymen but of admiring those who can be smart enough [not true: just lucky enough] to not lose their shirts while having enough respect for Kubrick's "one man makes a film" dictum (even though it is false, its spirit is a welcome antidote to the assembly-line industry entertainment standard) to let artists see their vision realized as more than a window-display torso.
Whatever Harvey Weinstein's manifold hubristic sins, I'm fond of him for half-groaning about Martin Scorsese "making" him watch "eighty" films during pre-production for GANGS OF NEW YORK.  I am guessing the point of this was to make a case for the precedents (commercial and artistic) by which such a project might be expected to succeed artistically and 'perform' in the marketplace.  Almost like, "This is my way of showing you that my 'vision' doesn't come from nowhere.  It's not a whim, it's a carefully calculated product."

[Todd]

If it's 'Hollywood insiders' you trust for information (people who subscribe to VARIETY instead of TRAFIC or FILM COMMENT), then servility of taste is the problem.

That certainly is a long post.  I shan't read all of it. 

[Todd]

We noticed right.

Ah, there it is, the distorting effect of nostalgia in only three words.

[Wakefield]

One of the landmark films of the 1960s, Bonnie and Clyde changed the course of American cinema. Setting a milestone for screen violence that paved the way for Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch, this exercise in mythologized biography should not be labelled as a bloodbath; as critic Pauline Kael wrote in her rave review, "it's the absence of sadism that throws the audience off balance". The film is more of a poetic ode to the Great Depression, starring the dream team of Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway as the titular antiheroes, who barrel across the South and Midwest robbing banks with Clyde's brother Buck (Gene Hackman), Buck's frantic wife Blanche (Estelle Parsons) and their faithful accomplice C W Moss (the inimitable Michael J. Pollard). Bonnie and Clyde is an unforgettable classic that has lost none of its power since the 1967 release. --Jeff Shannon

[asin]B002VWNIAE[/asin]

I recall a revised review of this movie by Roger Ebert: He says this movie was special to him because -for the first time in his role of critic at the beginning of his career-, he was able to judge a contemporary movie as a masterwork, without a previous critical tradition supporting this opinion. On the contrary, he recalls (to his honor) that the critical reception of Bonnie and Clyde was quite negative when it was premiered.   

[snyprrr]

lol

holy christ you crack me up!

My job here is done!

[lisa needs braces]

Griffith actually did something about this scenario when he formed United Artists with Chaplin et al.  That's more than groaning. 
How deep an impact UA (under various management) made in the business, by the 60s, and how different they were from any other movie-house, seems to be a complicated subject; but UA's collapse "because of" (sic) the commercial failure of HEAVEN'S GATE was one of the things that signaled the changes that drogulus is talking about.  It's not a matter of demonizing the moneymen but of admiring those who can be smart enough [not true: just lucky enough] to not lose their shirts while having enough respect for Kubrick's "one man makes a film" dictum (even though it is false, its spirit is a welcome antidote to the assembly-line industry entertainment standard) to let artists see their vision realized as more than a window-display torso.
Whatever Harvey Weinstein's manifold hubristic sins, I'm fond of him for half-groaning about Martin Scorsese "making" him watch "eighty" films during pre-production for GANGS OF NEW YORK.  I am guessing the point of this was to make a case for the precedents (commercial and artistic) by which such a project might be expected to succeed artistically and 'perform' in the marketplace.  Almost like, "This is my way of showing you that my 'vision' doesn't come from nowhere.  It's not a whim, it's a carefully calculated product."

Your passion for cinema is inspiring, Octave. 

[lisa needs braces]

That certainly is a long post.  I shan't read all of it.

I suppose that's one way to concede an argument.

[lisa needs braces]

Did you guys know this?

Did Tarantino essentially rip off a Hong Kong action movie to make Reservoir Dogs?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HgbSAL8OKY

The above video was a short film that was shown around film festivals in the 90s. The maker argues that Tarantino ripped off a film called CITY ON FIRE. The argument is convincing.

[Octave]

I have been keen to see that, esp. since I really liked Ringo Lam's contribution to TRIANGLE (co-directed with Johnnie To and Tsui Hark, a movie recommended for lovers of that action scene, with many familiar faces) and even some aspects of his IN HELL with Van Damme (which I probably do not recommend, unless you are a B-action junkie...it is very B). 

Unfortunately I tend to be reliant on Netflix, and it looks like maybe CITY ON FIRE is only available in a mandatory-English-dubbed pan/scan butchery.   
I might have to return to piratical habits, I am sorry to say.

Thanks for that link.

Did you guys know this?

Did Tarantino essentially rip off a Hong Kong action movie to make Reservoir Dogs?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HgbSAL8OKY

The above video was a short film that was shown around film festivals in the 90s. The maker argues that Tarantino ripped off a film called CITY ON FIRE. The argument is convincing.

[lisa needs braces]

I happened to see Pulp Fiction the other day on tv, the first time since seeing it the first time around on the big screen.  I enjoyed it quite a bit, having forgotten large parts of it.  It holds up well, and could be Tarantino's best film.

Indeed. His follow up film Jackie Brown was also excellent. And then he stopped making good movies. Or rather, serious movies. Everything he's done since 1998 has been a mess.

"Inglorious Basterds" disappointed me so much that I wrote a negative review that also touches on my problems with the post-1998 Tarantino. I'm not sure if I posted this in this thread in 2009.



The failure of "Inglourious Basterds" is the failure of "Death Proof" and the "Kill Bill" films. After "Jackie Brown" Tarantino jettisoned any concern with gripping storytelling and decided to focus on constructing fanboyish collages, like an amateur film maker recreating his favorite moments from the movies. Perhaps though this change of direction for Tarantino isn't merely a matter of choice–he may simply be burned out in terms of generating story ideas. After all, one can't be gifted in every facet. Tarantino can direct and construct involving, musical dialogue–but the man may no longer be capable of originating good stories, and his best work — Pulp Fiction — may have been a fluke as far as HIS contribution to the story of the film is concerned. After all, Roger Avery wrote a third of the script, though he merely gets a "stories" co-credit. "Reservoir Dogs" lifted its most important plot and story elements from the Hong Kong film "City On Fire" from the late 80s. And "Jackie Brown" — his second best work — was an adaptation of a work by a writer who Tarantino drew a lot of inspiration from. But Tarantino has given several interviews in which he claimed that he is very distanced from "Jackie Brown," a distance that no doubt stems from the fact that when audiences see it they can't help but appreciate Elmore Leonard as much as Tarantino. In Hollywood, the writer-director is the most prestigious position. But many of the greatest directors have, of course, depended for ideas on novelists and screen-writers. Perhaps Tarantino doesn't care to stoop so low as them again.

In Kill Bill, what happened to the Bride, and her subsequent quest, was largely goofy. Rather than taking a true risk and making an actual film which involved revenge, Tarantino chose a cheaper, satirical route, so that the revenge quest was treated so satirically and frivolously as to preempt any criticism of the film's plot or characters, i.e, the "it's bad on purpose!" defense. The only way to criticize the film was to take issue with the whole cold exercise and observe that Tim Roth getting shot in the stomach in "Reservoir Dogs" and the audience squirming in their seats as he bled profusely was preferable to Sofie Fatale getting her arm chopped off and the audience laughing.

There is no good story in Inglourious Basterds either, and just as in Kill Bill the revenge and dealing out of justice are treated too outlandishly to be taken seriously as plots. It isn't that the lack of seriousness which undermines the story but that the lack of seriousness covers up the poor nature of the storytelling. We are asked to accept the premise of The Basterds solely on the basis of such a group of characters having been featured in World War 2 films previously. There is no reason for the "Basterds" to be comprised primarily of Jews except that Tarantino requires it to fit in with the revenge theme. And it is not required that the film be replete with overt verbal allusions to cinematic figures other that Tarantino wants to be too cute by half.

The use of chapter breaks in Pulp Fiction elegantly delineated the separate plot threads. Tarantino in Inglourious Basterds (and in Kill Bill) has become dependent on chapter breaks as a way to cut into any scene without having to get there through a narrative. Why establish the details of how Shoshana came to possess her a new identity and a theater? Just cut to the exact place the character needs to be to enact her revenge! Why, indeed, bother with the details of how to get from one set piece to another? Just give each one it's own "chapter" to relieve the director/writer and the audience of the bothersome details of a smooth narrative.

Gratuitousness abounds. We aren't shown the bodies of the murdered Jews, yet we're given full view of the scalping of Nazi soldiers. Did Tarantino think that the former undercut his whole "lolz...violence!" shtick? In two instances a narrator intrudes and embellishes arbitrary details. Michael Fassbender's character is painstakingly introduced...only to lamely die the next scene. Tarantino kills of Shoshana in an anti-climatic fashion just so he can resurrect her on the big screen. Two of the Basterds get so carried away in pummeling the Nazis at the theater with bullets that they forget the bombs they're strapped to, but just why they would be suicidal isn't made clear.

But it doesn't make sense, I suppose, to get too worked up over any of its details. As said before, the only recourse is to question the whole exercise and the artistic dead-end it represents. The films of the post-Jackie Brown Tarantino will not inspire anyone. They are the products of a fearful film maker aware that, like Orson Wells, he made his greatest film too young. And rather than settling into a comfortable routine of Jackie Brown like films–i.e, substantive and effective thrillers not stylistically overdone based on novels or screenplays not by him– he has opted to produce a flow of pastiches whose failure on a storytelling and character level critics won't hold him accountable for due to the -mere exercise- nature of the films. But at least he gets sole credit.

[TheGSMoeller]

Paging Dr. Henning (and other Columbo fans) an Amazon deal of the day, complete series on DVD, 34 discs for $149.98 $52.49 (65% off)


[asin]B008RJ6TTC[/asin]

[North Star]

Paging Dr. Henning (and other Columbo fans) an Amazon deal of the day, complete series on DVD, 34 discs for $149.98 $52.49 (65% off)

Nice!
Of course, we fans already have at least most of that.

[Brian]

I happened to see Pulp Fiction the other day on tv, the first time since seeing it the first time around on the big screen.  I enjoyed it quite a bit, having forgotten large parts of it.  It holds up well, and could be Tarantino's best film.

Abe beat me to it, but Jackie Brown is my favorite, largely because of Robert Forster. I was over the moon when Forster showed up on Breaking Bad.

[lisa needs braces]

Abe beat me to it, but Jackie Brown is my favorite, largely because of Robert Forster. I was over the moon when Forster showed up on Breaking Bad.

He's good in this too:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0200427/

Low-budget road movie. Quite good.

[Octave]

Over a month or so (~September+), several by director Robert Mulligan:

1. TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD (1962)
2. INSIDE DAISY CLOVER (1965)
3. THE STALKING MOON (1968)    highly recommended
4. THE OTHER (1972)
5. THE MAN IN THE MOON (1991)

The only one among these I'd recommend strongly is THE STALKING MOON, which is now one of my favorite westerns, maybe even a top ~25 westerns ever for me....maybe.  Probably the less advance information one gets about it, the better; except that the last (and climactic) 20+ minutes are dialogue free, and there's an excellent young Robert Forster playing a "half breed" scout, in a decisive but really too-small part.  Written by Horton Foote and produced by Alan Pakula (as was the Harper Lee adaptation).  This one has really stayed with me.   
Here's a review essay by the intelligent Kent Jones; though if you think you can trust me even halfway, it is really better to see the film before reading the essay:
http://www.filmcomment.com/article/the-stalking-moon-review

The big disappointment was THE OTHER, which did have some nice early-70s [U.S. Depression period piece] rural gothic horror dread throughout; but was undermined by some pretty heinous acting IMHO, especially the child acting.

Cautious recommendation for INSIDE DAISY CLOVER, which is a strange movie but progresses through some interesting shifts in tone and a performance by Natalie Wood that might be one for the books.  Hm, not quite...but still.  There is a (film) dubbing scene that gives a whole new existential-horror sense to the term "isolation booth", quite remarkable; plus a nutty ~black-comic ending.  Plus Ruth Gordon, terrific but sadly underutilized. 
Also a cautious recommendation for THE MAN IN THE MOON, Mulligan's last film before a long retirement that would last until his death in 2008; not at all a weird movie, but might seem unremarkable or slight at a glance.  A really good maybe terrific performance by the very young Reece Witherspoon, apparently her first film performance.  Coming-of-age late-50s period piece shot in/around Natchitoches, Louisiana.  It's grown in my mind since I saw it, but don't see it for revolutionary cinema; just a lovely, humane film with deep melancholy carefully clothed.   

[Brian]

I'm 20 minutes into my first Chaplin movie ever.



Boy, this hasn't aged a SECOND. It's amazing. The gags are great, but what's even more impressive is that, unlike something like The Artist, this doesn't need any dialogue cards. Where's Chaplin been all my life? But the really amazing thing is the score - just brilliant music; notice how a jarring dissonant tune when the Tramp gets hauled away by the cops turns into a soft sweet tune the moment he's released.

So the first thing I did was google the composer. And Chaplin wrote the music too.

Just... shit. I'm in awe.

[TheGSMoeller]

I'm 20 minutes into my first Chaplin movie ever.

Just... shit. I'm in awe.

Damn, Brian. You'll continue to be in awe. City Lights next, my friend.

[ibanezmonster]

Well, like the first one, something different, at least. Good to focus on something that is "fun" for a little while on my one day "off" for the week, spent doing stuff that is basically work.

Good if you need to not think for a while, I guess...

[Brian]

Damn, Brian. You'll continue to be in awe. City Lights next, my friend.

That was one of the best things I've ever seen. I'm kinda trying not to cry, not because of anything emotional that happened, just that I'm so damn happy.

Oh also Les Halos de Jupiter Cotes du Rhone is a pretty spectacular wine 

EDIT: Quoting another of my favorite artists, Roger Ebert:

"Chaplin's gift was truly magical. And silent films themselves create a reverie state; there is no dialogue, no obtrusive super-realism, to interrupt the flow. They stay with you. They are not just a work, but a place.

"Most of Chaplin's films are available on video. Children who see them at a certain age don't notice they're "silent" but notice only that every frame speaks clearly to them, without all those mysterious words that clutter other films. Then children grow up, and forget this wisdom, but the films wait patiently and are willing to teach us again."