This week there's just a lot of really good or even great movies, including Infinity War.
110. Godzilla vs. Mothra (1992) (Also known as Godzilla and Mothra: Battle for Earth) - April 23rd
I never was as big a fan of Mothra as I was Godzilla's other rivals; her powers are a bit boring and her movies are a bit softer, and it reminds me of the camp of the Showa era with the return of her stranger elements like the fairies. That said, the film mostly maintains the decent quality I've some to expect from the Heisei era. I don't really have much to say about it, aside from Battra it doesn't have anything new, and it feels like a coalition of elements that have worked in previous Godzilla ventures. That's fine, it just reduces what I can say about it to what I've already said about the series. - 6/10
111. Why We're Here (2018) - April 23rd
Fifteen years ago, a couple of guys working out of a spare bedroom put together a little comedy show, animating it using one of their favourite video games - that show was Red vs. Blue, and the guys putting it together were the founders of Rooster Teeth. Now, Red vs. Blue has just started its sixteenth season, and Rooster Teeth has amassed a company spanning multiple studio lots and containing hundreds of people, who have gone on to produce many animated shows, several live-action shows, a couple of movies, and even a handful of documentaries - and Why We're Here is one of them, the one that takes a look back at the history of the company up to this point, in celebration of Rooster Teeth's fifteenth anniversary.
Why We're Here covers a lot of the basics: how the founders all knew each other, the basis for them starting up, their success with Red vs. Blue and how they were able to grow beyond that to explore as many avenues open to them as possible, the countless hours worked and late nights spent keeping it all together, the explosion of Rooster Teeth's animation division, with some time spent looking at a few key early members of Rooster Teeth's community, and a moment to remember and pay respects to the late Monty Oum (may he rest in peace). They also cover the transition to working under Fullscreen, the potential future of Rooster Teeth, and the emphasis on Rooster Teeth continuing to work because of its community above all else.
As a former avid fan of Rooster Teeth's content, particularly Red vs. Blue, I've heard countless stories told through various mediums about the history of how the company started and bits and pieces of anecdotes over the years, so not a lot of this was new to me. The film offers a good baseline for what Rooster Teeth is all about and serves as an introduction to the company's work overall, but there's nothing here that I don't already know and haven't heard in greater detail before, so this effectively amounts to an exercise in nostalgia for me, for a time when I actually felt invested in Rooster Teeth's work. It's not bad, in fact seeing more of Burnie's Buda home was a highlight because they spent some time actually talking about the process in a way I haven't heard since I watched Red vs. Blue with commentary, but so much of this left me wanting for more information, more detail, more time on each individual topic, and at just over an hour Why We're Here simply doesn't offer it. This feels less like something for the fans and more like something for the fans to show their friends what they're on about when they talk about Rooster Teeth, which seems slightly ironic given how much time they talk about loving their community. That said, for how little there is here, it's all relatively well made, and most technical hiccups must be attributed to certain legal limitations about where hey could and couldn't film. It's a documentary that at least tells what it wants to tell well, even if it doesn't tell enough. - 7/10
112. I Saw the Devil (2010) - April 24th
Between this and Oldboy, it seems that Korean filmmakers have been taking their revenge lessons directly from the great Greek playwrights. This movie is messed up in the best and worst ways, with a classical taste for tragedy and revenge amplified by a sickening creativity. Why just take revenge on the guy who killed and sliced up your pregnant fiance when you can seek to destroy every single aspect of his life, until he snaps and then kills your fiance's sister and blinds her father, leading you to slice the guy's head off in front of his family? Yes, this is the structure of the story, and it's brutal. I appreciate the film's goal is ultimately to express the self destructive nature of revenge, even when you succeed. At the same time, the way it goes on as it does begins to feel redundant, leading you to wish the movie was about twenty minutes shorter. Still, it's a mesmerising, meditative mayhem that almost manages to consider the cold nature of evil as it loses itself in the manic glee of its gore. - 7/10
113. Take Me Out to the Ball Game (1949) - April 24th
This is some basic stuff from Kelly and Sinatra; it ain't On the Town or Anchors Aweigh, but even when they aren't offering their best, it's still pretty damn good. Like most of these films, the plot is mostly window dressing for the sake of a few musical numbers and a few great jokes (and a handful of jokes were really great, the best of them bumped up my rating a whole point). There's some antiquated but progressive for its time and setting styled roles for its characters, particularly along gender lines, and an eleventh hour twist that feels completely out of step with the rest of the movie for how quickly its introduced and then resolved; the musical numbers also aren't the most elaborate or memorable, but they're at least entertaining and (mostly, considering the era in which this was produced) inoffensive. - 7/10
That said, it's weird to consider that this is not the first movie I've seen in which a shy Frank Sinatra falls for a girl, and an outgoing Gene Kelly seeks to help set Sinatra up with the girl, only to fall for the girl in the process, and then have Sinatra end up with some other girl. Here, the other woman is at least interested in Sinatra from the very start, pretty aggressively so in fact, so the switch has a bit more substance to it than 'oh, we forgot to give Sinatra a gal too', and her attitude's an interesting role reversal that plays in to the consistent theme in the movie. This is something that I kind of appreciate about the movie, and it's a reminder of the complex nature of social progression as it's represented in Hollywood films. There are certain topics that this movie approaches with little more than a throwaway joke, topics which when approached in this way feel completely inappropriate were they done so today. At the same time, there are other topics, such as gender roles, that feel almost forward thinking in their goals, and it's largely by virtue of them being a more significant aspect of the movie. K. C. Higgins is initially balked at for her womanhood, but after a few humorous reactions and some damn good comedic irony, almost everyone essentially gets over themselves and accepts and treats her like they would any other manager. She isn't really talked down to, she has a chance to voice her opinions and suggestions, and those suggestions are taken in to consideration and carried out, because she proves her understanding of the game and the circumstances. The only person who continues to treat her with any kind of spite is Kelly's O'Brien. Importantly, this isn't entirely because she's a woman either, but also because she allowed him to make a fool of himself in front of her; equally as important is the fact that his misogynistic behaviour is punished, leaving him the momentary butt of his teammates' jokes, because unlike them he hasn't moved on. It's kind of straightforward, especially because O'Brien's behaviour is quickly forgiven by Higgins, but it's a surprisingly progressive attitude for a movie made in 1949, especially for one that's set in 1908, and it's obviously idealism, but it's kind of neat to see regardless, and I don't want to walk away from this movie with a focus on its problematic elements, largely because it's such a product of its time.
114. Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - April 25th
The big purple guy hunts for shiny rocks. It's a good thing that it's the details of a movie that make a plot work. This was very good, excellent even, and it's by far Marvel's biggest movie. My full review can be found here. - 7.5/10
115. Russian Ark (2002) - April 26th
This is stream of consciousness storytelling put to film in its most ambitious form.
I'm really not sure how much I can actually say of substance about this film. It's a passage of time, the lack of cuts keeping you in a dream-like state as you wander about a museum with a dead travel writer, you yourself put in to the perspective of another dead person, and discuss Russian art, culture, and history - the camera never once cutting. I'm not sure what I experienced, and I feel like a basic understanding of what the two characters discuss before going in would have helped me, but I can appreciate what the film does despite my unfamiliarity; the film utilises the long take better than just about every other film I've seen, with positively mind-blowing set up and execution clear in the way everything moves, all played to a civilised and human discussion of art, culture and history, all in the Russian context. I'm not entirely sure what I watched, but I know that it was shown to me with incredible skill - 8.5/10
116. Brazil (1985) - April 26th
Between this and Time Bandits, Terry Gilliam is really good at making a chillingly dark but also comedic ending that suggests imagination is easier than reality.
This is basically 1984 with a Monty Python slapstick approach, and importantly no 'Big Brother' to direct people's ardour; here the world essentially operates the way that it does largely due to societal incompetence, with the very reasons that this world shouldn't work being the same reasons that it continues to do so - people are dumb and they don't care all that much. This is a world of impenetrable bureaucracy, where no-one can ever get anything done and human identity is null and void, and air conditioner repair men are heroes and renegades and terrorists, just for doing their work without the appropriate paper work. It's a chilling vision of dystopia (is there any other kind?) that Gilliam constantly ladens with an emphasis on its ridiculousness for the sake of comedy, and the whole process runs beautifully, the way the film actually makes De Niro's Harry Tuttle in to some silly superhero who's always there with the answer to the main character's problems and the key to defeating the system, while also never really getting anything of consequence done, at once comedy and a reminder that it takes more than the individual to change the system. The film is positively superb, and the ending just sells it so well. - 8.5/10
117. Save the Tiger (1973) - April 27th
After seeing him in Some Like it Hot, Jack Lemmon immediately became one of my all time favourite actors. Anyone who can bring that amount of sheer dynamism to an already brilliant movie is someone who has my utmost respect for their craft. Since then, I've managed to catch a similarly fantastic performance in The Apartment, and I finally sat down to watch his Oscar-winning performance in Save the Tiger.
I will say before I start losing my mind over how great the late Lemmon is, he is most of why the movie is as good as it is. The rest of the film is fine, even good when it uses its melancholic jazz to accentuate Lemmon's mournful performance, or another actor gets a chance to bounce off of him, but Lemmon's performance is absolutely fantastic, and the reason you should and the reason I did watch the movie.
It's so human and complex, brimming with a mournful longing that aches with memories of happiness in simplicity, as its minor plot spirals out of control and Lemmon's Harry Stoner tries desperately to search for what made things easier for him when he was young. He's stretched thin and then torn between where he is, where he wants to be, and where he needs to be; Lemmon conveys it so well with every defeated sigh, every shrill rebuke, every conversation he has, thinks he has, and wishes he could have. It's a truly brilliant performance, and while it may not be my favourite of Lemmons (I don't know if anything can top his work in Some Like it Hot), it's still a monument to such a great actor. - 7.5/10
118. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) - April 29th
James Stewart is purity incarnate in this film, Superman without the powers.
The only other Frank Capra film I've seen is It's a Wonderful Life (the best Christmas movie, regardless of what people say about Die Hard), but within minutes I saw Mr. Smith as a film very much in the same vein: a vision of simple selfless values beset on all sides by misfortunes and ill intent, choosing to confront these unjust challenges head on, because it is right to do so. It's preening in its sentimentality and patriotism, so utterly devoted to its ideals and insistent that you know about it, but in a way that's positioned so righteously you would be aligning yourself with what amounts to cartoon villainy were you to disagree with the film's goals. Imagery of flags, stars and stripes, statues and monuments, the words with which these symbols have become synonymous - freedom, liberty, justice - these are what the film seeks to uphold, but suggests that those entrusted to do so have failed and must indeed be challenged by their failure. It's classic black and white (both visually and morally) filmmaking and storytelling, loud and proud and then allowing Smith to be quiet in the awe with which the film observes the history of the nation it wants to remind people of, as if Capra wants so badly to believe that men like Smith still exist, and if they don't that they still deserve to be shown in the right for wanting the good of the people. I'm reminded of Donner's Superman ("here for truth, justice, and The American Way"), always seeking to be the boy scout in a world that has grown cynical of his type, the indomitable spirit of a man you wish you could be, if only for always knowing and doing the 'right' thing.
Anyone familiar with the cultural history of this film doesn't need me to tell you that this film is great, sentimentality and all. To say it was controversial for its time is an understatement, given that it was essentially propaganda for American values released during World War II that also (to many senators) undermined America's political system. It was banned in Hitler's Germany, Stalin's USSR, and Mussolini's Italy, and multiple foreign dubs changed the script to fit their own national perspectives, while some American politicians and press alike felt that the film was anti-American, pro-Communist, and not made in the best interests of the country for how it portrays the senate and the media. The film was nominated for eleven Oscars and managed to win one (back when best story and best screenplay were separate awards), and it's been added to the United States' National Film Registry by the Library of Congress. The film's value it beyond reproach, and it's a reminder of what films can become, given enough time. Despite every sleight that has been thrown the film's way, it's considered today one of the greatest of all time (a title that for me at least feels like a several-hundred way tie); it's much like Jefferson Smith himself, standing strong in its value despite everything people have said against it. The film believes so much in its own virtuosity, and, at least for its running time, I bought in to it completely - 9.5/10
I have to say though, this would be a 9, but it earned a half point just for the scene between Smith and Susan Paine at Senator Paine's home. The way the camera focuses completely on Smith's hat, as if to say that that's exactly where Smith would be looking. It's just one more little reason that the film is so sweet, and it's framed so bashfully and with an intense longing that it deserves recognition all on its own.
119. Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011) - April 29th
These keep getting better with their action, but also more meaningless, seemingly only existing for the purpose of fueling Tom Cruise's adrenaline. That said, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just that it's hard to care for such a consistently rotating set of characters, and while Ethan Hunt is a really cool action hero, that's about the only attribute he has. Still, I'm not gonna complain about this any more, because the action is the focus of these movies, and in Ghost Protocol it's near magical how well the film balances tension, thrills, and even levity, as the team are forced to get more creative within their limitations. Every sequence is truly fascinating to behold, toeing the line between reality and the ridiculous, no doubt assisted by Cruise's insistence on doing his own stunts; the practicality of it all makes the action that much more visceral. Simply put, I don't remember the last time an action movie made me go "holy sh*t" so many times. - 7/10
Re-watches
21. Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid (2004) - April 27th
Every now and then, you need to be reminded of the mediocre schlock you liked when you were a kid, if only to see how you observe film differently, and consider why you appreciated a film differently when you were younger.
Anacondas is a blatantly mediocre film; an unoriginal b-movie with only its attention to expositional character detail to act as a crutch that allows it to hobble its way through its poor effects-driven action scenes. It's honestly just the sort of movie I can throw on in the background and understand it to be stable in its schlock; it's pretty bad, but it's consistent in its 'badness'. I honestly can't fathom any merit from the movie that I liked about it as a kid, other than the monster snakes; this film just happened to be one of the ones I latched on to as a movie I could watch with my mum. This doesn't make it better, but it makes it infinitely watchable for me on a personal level. - 4.5/10
22. The Sunset Limited (2011) - April 28th
Cormac McCarthy is one of today's great writers, and when you take his writing and put it in the hands of such talent as Tommy Lee Jones and Samuel L. Jackson, it makes for an extremely effective dialogue-driven story. Were I to see this in pay form, I imagine it would be near-perfect; as it is, the medium of film adds very little in this case. The direction in relation to the actors is fantastic; they share such a significant dynamic, their views juxtaposed in a way that allows them to talk about everything and agree on nothing, with both too insistent to back down. The direction in relation to the visuals are not so inspired. In play form, you can sit at a distance and view both of these men at once, the reaction of one sharing your view alongside the action of the other; in film form, we're forced to look upon one or the other, and never both, while being pushed right in to the faces of both men. We can't sit back comfortably and ponder what the opposition of their two views mean to each one of them; we have to sit excessively close, put ourselves right in the room with them, and consider each mans' point only one at a time. I like both ideas, but I like this closer individual inspection less, mostly because there's very little that's done with the camera beyond the simple shot/reverse shot. There are moments where the camera emphasises what would otherwise be readily apparent if viewed on the stage, not creating anything new but definitely enhancing what's there; and within the space of the set I love the use of diagetic sounds to emphasise the foreboding tension that grows over the course of the film. Most importantly, though, is of course the writing. Questions of faith and meaning that have completely different perspectives, with well-read minds and hurt emotions expressing a raging conflict over everything from just one book to the reasons people commit suicide and what that says about life is an incendiary discourse that has a lot said about it in this film. - 7.5/10
Published April 30th, 2018
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