Last night I watched Clint Eastwood’s movie, Blood Work. I saw it, and wrote about it, back in 2002. I liked it then. Perhaps I liked it a little more this time. It really is a good movie. Here’s what I wrote back in 2002, with it’s asinine opening paragraph and some opinions I don’t necessarily agree with anymore. But, on the whole, in it’s essence, this is pretty bang on. And it goes like this:

Blood Work (2002)

I think Hollywood must be puzzled over what to make of Clint Eastwood. You almost get the feeling they allow him to make movies out of a sense of obligation - he represents an older style within a Hollywood dominated and obsessed by youth. It would be in just too much bad taste for even Hollywood to shut the door on him because he’s, well, old.

But what must be a real head-scratcher for them is the fact that he keeps making good movies. They’re just not today’s Hollywood movies. This, by the way, is one of the reasons they are so good, and come as such a relief.

Blood Work is another good Eastwood movie, though it’s not his best as it has some flaws.

The strength of the movie comes from its script. This is usually the case with Eastwood films of the last few years. He somehow finds strong stories then allows them to play out with little directorial interference. In other words, his direction is understated. It’s almost a hands-off approach. Thus, we get clean, well-framed shots edited in an unobtrusive way that still maintains the film’s pace.

The pace, by the way, is less frantic than the majority of current films. This is partly due to the style Eastwood has developed over the years, the fact that his influences are older (as he is), but also because he has focused so much on ensuring he has a strong story to tell. There is no sense that many films now have that the director lacks confidence in his story and feels the need to throw some razzle dazzle in to keep an audience’s attention.

This is not to say there aren’t some problems with Blood Work, the chief of which lies in the script I’ve been praising. The script has two key relationships within it - that of Eastwood and the character played by Wanda De Jesus, and Eastwood and the character played by of Jeff Daniels. It is in the latter relationship that the weakness lies, but it’s weakness is also because thematically the film’s focus is the former relationship (with de Jesus).

Warning: Spoiler

Broadly, the story is about a man who loses something of himself following a heart transplant operation. An FBI profiler, he receives the heart of a murder victim, the sister of Wanda de Jesus character. This character, de Jesus, has also suffered a loss - her sister. The movie is about how together they find and rebuild themselves, each helping the other.

The McGuffin for this comes from the serial killer who is the cause of both losses. The framework of the movie requires some mystery as to who this person is - Eastwood has to find and stop the killer. But it’s pretty clear who this person is fairly early in the film. This is partly due to the way the situation is set up, but also partly due to the casting. Given the casting, it’s hard to image that one of the film’s actors is playing such a seemingly inconsequential role. You can’t help thinking there must be more to it, and of course there is. You know, therefore, roughly how the plot will resolve.

This isn’t such a big problem, though. The only real problem is the suspicion you have that it is suppose to be a mystery. A better approach would have been to acknowledge how the film actually plays - that we know who the killer is and the film’s hook is seeing how Eastwood handles the mystery.

The reason this problem isn’t so large is because the heart of the movie (no pun intended) is not the mystery but the characters and how they find themselves again, individually and together.

Blood Work is thoroughly enjoyable on a number of levels, not the least of which is the relaxed, unrushed way it unfolds. It is a huge relief, especially during a season of blockbuster DVD releases like Minority Report, Lord of the Rings and Star Wars. It doesn’t rely on CGI, overwhelming landscapes, over-the-top camera work and so on. It relies on a story and strong acting performances, as well as unobstrusive camera work and direction. (It’s nice to see scenes that seem natural as opposed to tinted and with high contrast levels.)

Some years from now when the romance with technology and frenetic editing has passed and filmmakers turn again to a more naturalistic look, and a more minimalist approach, it will be to films like Eastwood’s that they will turn to for inspiration.

3 stars out of 4.

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I actually wrote my review of The Golden Compass a while ago but only now got around to posting it.

As it turns out, I may have been harder on it than warranted. But as you’ll see by the review, I was annoyed by the ending. And it also may be that I simply wasn’t in a movie watching mood when I saw it. The planets were misaligned or something.

But it happens. You see a pretty good movie but for some reason or other, it just doesn’t click.

However, for what it’s worth, Here’s my take on:

The Golden Compass

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Try as I might, I’ve been having problems watching movies recently. The last three - She Done Him Wrong, Hitch and Juno - all had the same hiccup.

I started watching them too late at night, ergo I fell asleep halfway through each of them.

It’s kind of difficult to comment on a movie you don’t actually see. (Although, from what I understand, that hasn’t stopped some people from having strong opinions about certain movies.)

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Yes, I’m actually posting something. Finally.

I see my last post was in November. That is a long gap between writings. As I posted yesterday on my Crazy Ass Planet blog, “I’ve been a very bad blogger lately. But lifestyle changes can have that effect. Between having a house (as opposed to an apartment or condo), and a dog (as opposed to a cat), and a new location (New Brunswick) and new friends …”

I then proceeded to whine about not having time. But it has been true. There just doesn’t seem to be time anymore. A house requires a lot more attending than an apartment or condo, if only because they tend to be bigger and have yards and driveways. And with this winter … Good grief! All I seem to do is shovel snow. It’s been an astonishing winter. Completely unlike last year.

Then there’s the dog. Unlike a cat, dogs require more work, as any dog owner will tell you. Feeding, walking and picking up dog turds. And so on.

Then end result of it all is less time. Not just for blog posting but also for watching movies. I have a passle of DVDs that have been sitting on the shelf waiting for me to get to them: Lust, Caution, and American Gangster and The Prodigal, The Colossus of Rhodes, Tokyo Story, and on and on.

Death at a Funeral

I did, however, see a movie a day or two ago: the Frank Oz directed Death at a Funeral. Simply put, I laughed. Out loud. And being as it was a comedy, that’s a good thing.

It’s a British farce, slapstick comedy about a somber occasion (a funeral) that goes all wrong – yet, in the end, kind of turns out right.

The movie starts slowly, even quietly, and the initial jokes are a bit obvious, but as the film introduces more and more of its characters, and once one of the key comedic elements is in place, it gathers steam and builds to a wild, antic, chaotic crescendo that is just plain funny.

As I think about it, I think many, if not most, of the jokes are obvious. Normally, in most films, this would not be good. But in this case, with this type of movie, the jokes do work, predictable as they are, because the artistry is in how skillfully they are done. They become funny, even when expected, because of the skill with which they are set up and then executed. And I think this is where Frank Oz excels in Death at a Funeral, as does the movie’s editor, Beverley Mills.

This kind of movie may not be for everyone. In fact, comedy in particular is a hard thing to do well, pleasing all. But if antic farce, with a British tone to it, is something you enjoy (as I do), I think you’ll enjoy Death at a Funeral.

I also think there are probably many things wrong with the film, many things that might have been better, but in the end, I found it funny. It made me laugh and ultimately, that’s what comedies are meant to do. This movie isn’t trying to be Lawrence of Arabia. It just wants to be funny and, for me, it succeeds wonderfully.

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Oops. This post is sort of a mis-posting. This was (and is) supposed to be a separate page/review in the review area. It was also supposed to get an edit, which may yet come in time. But … these things happen and no harm done. Here’s my review:

Referred to on the back of the DVD case as “bedlam in the boudoir”, this costume farce, Casanova’s Big Night, is thoroughly silly and a great deal of fun because of that. And it also has rather an amazing cast that stars Bob Hope but also includes Joan Fontaine, Basil Rathbone, John Carradine, Lon Chaney Jr. and a young Raymond Burr, among numerous others.

Bob Hope plays Pippo Popolino (I love the name), a humble tailor (actually a tailor’s assistant). As it turns out, he is tailor to the famous lover Casanova (the uncredited Vincent Price). Due to cash flow problems (Casanova’s), Hope’s Pippo ends up impersonating the great lover and is enlisted to help Casanova’s greedy creditors to torpedo a marriage.

However, the plot is unimportant for the most part except for the sake of establishing the situation: the bumbling and cowardly Bob/Pippo as the world’s greatest lover and swordsman. It’s sheer farce, as well as something of a send-up of the costume dramas of the period.

And it’s vintage Hope. While some argue it’s not in the top tier of Bob Hope films, it’s close and this is partly due to the silliness and fun they manage to get into the movie. But it’s also due to the pacing, which is pretty tight for a movie of this kind. Often, this kind of movie could kill the comedy by extending a scene long past its welcome. But here, for the most part, they enter and leave scenes with the kind of alacrity this kind of humour requires.

In fact the only time the humour doesn’t work, or at least fails the movie, is when it is deliberately self-conscience, although this was one of the trademarks of Hope’s films. By “self conscience” I mean the times in a Hope film when the movie itself is acknowledged as a movie, and a nod or overt remark or question is put to the audience. Here, I’m thinking particularly of the ending. Perhaps at the time (1954), it may have worked. I don’t know. But I would have preferred a more traditional wrap to the movie, even if it might not have had the humour.

As someone elsewhere mentioned, Casanova’s Big Night isn’t going to challenge the viewer. But then, that’s not its intention. It is light. It’s fluff. That’s all it wants to be and it achieves that remarkably well, and it’s entertaining as such. Like the Road movies Bob Hope made with Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour, it is fun and light, a perfect anodyne to a crappy day when all you want to do is turn off your brain for a while and laugh.

The more I see of the Bob Hope canon of movies, the more impressed I am by them. In someone else’s hands, these probably could have been dreadful. But Hope’s quick wit and light touch comes through in them and, I think, the sense of fun seems to be infectious. The other actors seem to pick up on it and communicate it as well. (I’m thinking here particularly of Joan Fontaine in Casanova’s Big Night.)

I think for something that amuses and has more than a few laughs, you can’t really go wrong with this one.

2½ stars out of 4.

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I don’t yet have the 2007 DVD edition of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Lady Vanishes, coming from Criterion on November 20th. And since I have the earlier, 1998 edition, I may not pick it up. But I’m debating that as the new one has a “new, restored high-definition digital transfer” and comes with features not included with their first DVD edition.

Well, whatever I do it’s a good movie. The review below is what I scribbled when I watched it back in 2002.

(This review is based on the 1998 Criterion single disc release. There is now a two disc edition available, released November 2007.)

Of the Alfred Hitchcock films I’m familiar with, which is quite a few but by no means complete, The Lady Vanishes strikes me as the most overtly and effervescently comedic. In many parts, it’s screwball comedy, something you don’t immediately think of when you think of Hitchcock.

While the film has the usual suspense associated with him, and the unfolding of the story is brilliantly constructed cinematically, what most strikes me with this film is the sheer fun it’s filled with. Unlike the comedy of a film like The Trouble With Harry, which is dark and somewhat plodding, this film, while containing dark elements, is incredibly light, exuberant, and moves quickly (almost like a train, as Bruce Eder points out in the commentary).

A woman taking a train mysteriously disappears. Another woman is aware of the disappearance but when she brings it to the attention of others, including the authorities, the vanished woman’s existence is denied. There is an apparent conspiracy and it has no explanation.

The film opens with a lengthy introduction of characters and clues but, unlike what we expect from a Hitchcock film, it is not dramatic or suspenseful. It’s comedic. In some places, bawdy.

The real action doesn’t begin until the characters have boarded the train in the second act. But once they do, the film suddenly picks up steam and takes off.

Throughout the film, however, Hitchcock punctuates and accents everything with humour: satire, slapstick, wit. He also uses ideas and techniques that appear again in his later films (usually more fully developed in those movies). But many of them have their origins here. (Listen to the commentary for a detailed analysis of this aspect of the movie.)

While certainly not Alfred Hitchcock’s best film, The Lady Vanishes may be the best of his earlier British films. It is also filled with the Hitchcock genius for suspense, construction, and glaring clues we only catch when we see the film a second time.

It seems to me that this is a young man’s film. While there are critical and satirical aspects to it, there is no sense of cynicism to it or any jaded quality (which sometimes informed the humour elements of Hitchcock’s later films). Again, this really seems to be a film where Hitchcock simply had fun. This s probably why, watching it, the audience has so much fun too.

While there are a number of DVD editions of this film available, the Criterion version is probably your best bet for a good transfer. It has been restored and, while far from pristine, for a film from 1938 the quality is quite good. The commentary by Bruce Eder is the primary special feature. There are really no extras beyond this but it’s a good and informative commentary especially if you want background on the movie and information on how it relates to later Hitchcock films.

Note on the 2007 edition:

This review was of the 1998 Criterion release of The Lady Vanishes, a single disc with little beyond the commentary in terms of features. The 2007 edition from Criterion is a two disk set that includes:

• New, restored high-definition digital transfer
• Audio commentary by film historian Bruce Eder
• Crook’s Tour, a 1941 feature-length Charters and Caldicott adventure, available for the first time on home video, starring Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne reprising their beloved The Lady Vanishes roles
• Excerpts from François Truffaut’s legendary 1962 audio interview with Alfred Hitchcock
• Mystery Train, a new video essay about Hitchcock and The Lady Vanishes by Hitchcock scholar Leonard Leff
• Stills gallery of behind-the-scenes photos and promotional art
• New essays by critic Geoffrey O’Brien and Hitchcock scholar Charles

(3½ stars out of 4.)

(Originally written in 2002.)

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Last night I watched Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery. I realized afterwards that the movie came out in 1997. That makes it 10 years old (obviously).

And what can I say about this movie? Not a heck of a lot. This will be a very short post.

Two things struck me about the film. The first was, having seen the movie several times although not recently, it’s still pretty funny. At least, certain elements and certain scenes are still quite funny. And I can see why it was so popular when it first came out: It was partly the humor, but a lot of it had to do with the parodying of the 60’s spy movie genre.

However, quite a few other parodies have been released since then. So the movie’s initial surprise, the clever and silly parody of James Bond type movies, doesn’t have the same freshness.

But what it still retains is the wonderful sense of silliness that Mike Myers brought to the parody, as well as his nostalgic fondness for the genre. And of course, it still has its opening theme, by Quincy Jones, Soul Bossa Nova, which perfectly sets the tone for the entire movie. It has fun and verve and a sense of the giggles.

Yes, the movie may be a bit worn in 2007. But, as mentioned, the fun and silliness and color and overall joy in nonsense remain. So it’s still a lot of fun to watch. And that may be why I keep watching it.

In fact, that is why I keep watching it.

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Yes, I watched Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest again last night. It was the second time I’ve watched it. It didn’t come across quite so well seeing it this second time. (Actually, it didn’t come across that well the first time either.)

The movie is certainly fun to watch. But it’s really just a collection of set pieces: elaborate action scenes or elaborate designs. But not much of the film was story or, at least, coherent story. It seemed.

It wasn’t until the end of the movie that I realized why this was. The reason was simple: The movie Dead Man’s Chest is all exposition. The entire movie is the setup for the movie that follows it. The End of the World. Or whatever the hell that next movie is called. (I just checked: it’s Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End, due out on DVD December 4th. Hey, I was close. In the ballpark, at least.)

So while the movie Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest is certainly interesting visually, if a bit long, overall it’s a rather tedious and, um, loud.

I’ll say this though: The movie is directed by Gore Verbinski, who is one of my favorite directors. One of the reasons I like him as a director so much is because even when he is making a boring movie he manages to make it interesting. Yes, that is a contradictory statement. But it seems to be a true one.

No, I don’t understand it. But that’s the movies.

(btw … It appears I loved the first movie, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl.)

One last note:

The entire post reads somewhat awkwardly. This may be because I tried dictating the entire thing. I’ve added Dragon Naturally Speaking, speech recognition software, to one of my laptops and decided to give it a spin. So I didn’t write this post, I spoke it. These are the early stages so the jury is still out on what I think of it. The software, that is.

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Having watch Barry Levinson’s 2001 movie Bandits once again last night, I took another look at what had written about it somewhere back in 2002 — roughly five years ago.

For some reason, I went off on a tangent about chimeras. I sort of know what I was thinking at the time but, having rewatched the film, I’m not sure why I thought that way. With the distance of time, I think this is a much better movie than I initially thought and certainly better than most reviews at the time gave it credit for.

So maybe one of these days I’ll scribble up another review. In the meantime, all I have is this one. (By the way, Cate Blanchett’s performance in the movie is great. And she looks great too! Maybe it’s the red hair she has in this one.)

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Watching Howard Hawk’s Land of the Pharaohs (1955) is extraordinary but for all the wrong reasons. How is it Howard Hawks, director of Rio Bravo, His Girl Friday, Scarface and other great movies, got involved with this turgid turkey of an epic? How did William Faulkner, author of Light in August, As I Lay Dying, The Sound and the Fury, get his name listed in the writing credits?

Yes, mystery surrounds the making of this massive exercise in dullness.

The movie is essentially the story (not that there’s much of one) of a Pharaoh (Jack Hawkins) who has a pyramid constructed so that when he dies he can take his wealth with him, and he’s quite a wealthy guy.

As an element of conflict, and so there might be something resembling a story attached to the movie, he has a wicked second wife (Joan Collins) who doesn’t think this is such a great idea: Surely the wealth can stay behind with her when the Pharaoh dies? So she plots and schemes and does bad things in an effort to make the universe unfold in a way more to her liking.

So how does this movie go off the rails? Meager as the story is, for these mid-1950s epics it isn’t without some elements that could help it work.

Essentially, the problem is that neither the writers nor the director are engaged. Peter Bogdanovich and Hawks himself give some hints in a commentary on the DVD. (The commentary was actually more interesting to me than movie.)

To begin with, it really isn’t a Hawks kind of film. It’s big, thousands of extras and huge sets and so on, and Hawks was at his best with more intimate films. His best movies had very strong characters and relationships. In Land of the Pharaohs, with the possible exception of Joan Collins’ wicked wife (Princess Nellifer), none of the characters is very interesting. There’s really no hero to cheer for, either. The most sympathetic character is Vashtar (James Robertson Justice), prisoner of the Pharaoh and architect of the pyramid. But he has very little screen time. (And there isn’t a great deal to his character, for that matter.)

The only interesting character for Hawks, I think, is the pyramid itself. He was intrigued by the engineering required in building it, so that might have drawn him to the project. But nothing else related to it seems to have generated his interest. (Or, as the commentary speaks to, passion.)

Perhaps the director’s lack of interest rubbed off on the screenwriters. The script they came up with is pretty lifeless. (Or maybe it was the other way around: Because the script had nothing in it to latch onto, Hawks could not drum up any interest.)

On the whole, then, we have a big 1955 “historical” epic that is pretty dull. It does, however, have spectacle to recommend it. And as Bogdanovich mentions, Hawks managed to get a sense of grit into his sweeping scenes. There is a quality of realism to it, as opposed to the Hollywood gloss you might expect. (But make no mistake, there is gloss. This is a Hollywood spectacle film.) Hawks also gets some interesting shots in and, while it’s expected, though a very long time coming, the ending is very nicely done by Hawks as the pyramid closes up.

Howard Hawks is one of my favourite directors. He has made some of my favourite movies. But this is easily his weakest, at least of those I’ve seen. And it seems pretty clear from clips of Hawks used in the commentary and from what Bogdanovich says that Howard Hawks didn’t like this movie any more than I did. In fact, it would be a few years before he made his next film, Rio Bravo, one that’s almost the complete opposite of Land of the Pharaohs.

(Hard to believe, but while the movie runs about 104 minutes there are, according to Wikipedia, suggestions of a 144 minute version kicking around somewhere. Surely those suggestions are from people who simply felt that what they had seen had to be much longer than 104 minutes because it felt that way.)

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