This week's movie is The Barefoot Contessa, and I've just spoiled the whole thing for you with that subject line. Worse than that, I don't even feel that bad about it. It's really one of those movies where the journey is at least as important as the end, if not moreso. Besides, the movie starts at her funeral, and it's not long after we meet Vincenzo that they hint very heavily that he can't get it up.
Honestly, though, if your schwinky was blown off in the war, you really need to tell your bride this before the wedding night. It gives you two a chance to place an order with Babeland for a good strap-on and a bunch of lube. At the very least, he could get into it with the oral. Seriously, dude, this is grounds for annulment. A little upfront honesty would avoid a lot of embarrassment later on.
Of course, on the other side of that, even if you're 110% certain that having a kid would make your husband happy beyond words, you really need to discuss it with him first. Especially if he can't help you with that.
So that was the last 20 minutes. The hour and a half leading up to it was actually quite good. I like the unexpected character development on Oscar, Vincenzo's introduction makes me fall in love with him at first sight, and Bogart is in top form.
That last one isn't really saying much in my opinion. I know this is blasphemous to say, but personally, Humphrey Bogart couldn't act. You watch him saying all these now-famous lines in Casablanca, and he's not saying them as a man about to send the love of his life off with another never to see her again; he's saying them like someone reciting famous lines from Casablanca. Maltese Falcon, his partner is murdered and he's blamed for it, what's his reaction? Slightly drunken grumpiness. That's basically his default setting in every movie he's been in: slightly drunken grumpiness. I'm telling you, his supporting cast carried him in every single flick.
Nonetheless, the others in Barefoot Contessa do not let him drag it down. Personally, I think you could cut Bogie out without hurting the movie much at all.
I'd have to say the biggest problem with Barefoot Contessa is near-fatal metastory. "If this were a movie, I would have..." Guys, come off it. You don't even get the "it was original when we did it" excuse because Arsenic and Old Lace kicked your ass at it 10 years earlier. (Arsenic and Old Lace's metastory is also near fatal, but in a way that means you'll die laughing.)
On the other hand, you get to watch two insanely rich guys cat fighting, and it's awesome. I think one of my favorite lines was the retort to the "self-made" rich guy who just accused the hereditary rich guy of never working a day in his life: "You've never worked a day in your life, either. To make a hundred dollars into a hundred and ten dollars - this is work. To make a hundred million into a hundred and ten million, this is inevitable."
So watch it, enjoy it, debate with friends about whether things would have turned out with a dildo, a butt plug, and a case of KY.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Movie: The Fountainhead (Brutal spoilers)
Alternate title: "Gary Cooper, noooo!"
I know, I know. Those of you who know me saw the title, spit out your beverage and said "you watched what?!" Here's the deal. I know just enough of Ayn Rand's work that I wanted a little more information in order to be able to better criticize it, but at the same time I'm not willing to spend any significant part of my life reading it. So I figured I'd watch the movie (she even wrote the screen play) and only waste 2 hours instead of 20 or more. And I was even able to knit while doing so.
Let me tell you, this is a MST3K-worthy movie. It's basically stretches of diatribe with the occasional break in which absolutely no one talks and characters make completely uncommunicative expressions at each other. (Grant, are you in love? Angry? Sick? A turtle? I'm not gettin' it.)
Before I get into that, though, I will say that my opinion of Ayn Rand did increase a little bit after watching this. That doesn't say much, because my opinion was extremely low before. Nonetheless, instead of thinking "So, Ayn Rand: narcissist or sociopath?", I came out thinking "Let me guess; preacher's daughter?" Then I wiki'd her. Oh. Russian Jew, daughter of a business owner, revolution in her teens; that explains a LOT. Actually, I'd say that basically explains it all.
In any event, the Fountainhead doesn't come across as utterly sociopathic, so much as that it grabbed some good ideas and took them to the point where they became twisted and evil. I'm all for individualism, and critical thought, and creating for the sake of creating without worrying about whether others will like your work. (Actually trying to cultivate that last one myself.) But I do not at all want to live in a world where the pinnacle of human existence is a rapist who blows up a building because he doesn't like the changes made to his design and then walks out of the room when he knows his best friend is about to kill himself. That's one fucked up fantasy world Rand's built there.
(Ayn actually wrote this movie on the condition that her script not be edited in any way, much like her character designed the apartment complex he blew up on the condition that the plans not be changed in anyway. She had a hissy when the makers wanted to trim the longest speech in a movie to date. I'm trying to decide if the makers were brave, or stupid. They did back down and show it in its rambling entirety. Probably afraid she was going to blow up the lot if they didn't.)
(I doubt SHE would have gotten an acquittal for it.)
So, the movie. It's not a good sign when the first line makes you snert. "There's no room for originality in architecture." SNERT.
"There's no room for mathematics in engineering!"
"There's no room for woodwork in carpentry!"
>Snort< Yeah, that Frank Lloyd Wright guy, he's never going to amount to anything. I mean, who's ever heard of him?
You know what they call an architect with no originality? Unemployed. But then again, the first five minutes of the movie are people spouting things that no one in professional architecture has ever actually said without being fired on the spot. The next 20 minutes are solid diatribe, followed by some mooney eyes that end in about as blatant a rape scene as I can imagine someone making in 1949. When a woman attempts to flee out two different exits, is crying, and scratches the hell out of the guy, that is a rape. Pretty hard to deny, actually.
[Supposedly Rand said "if it was rape, it was rape by engraved invitation." Further proof that Ayn Rand was really messed up in the head. Personally, just because I wanted to boink a guy a few days ago when I invited him over once doesn't mean I still want to boink him when he breaks into my house later in the week after I've slapped him and stormed off when he called me a slut. The invitation was pretty clearly rescinded.)
Then back to more diatribe. The rest of the movie is basically diatribe and disturbing fantasy world. It just kind of beats you about the ears. Really, it couldn't be more heavy handed if it were wearing lead gloves.
So, actors/characters:
Gary Cooper: I'm trying to decide if he was really off, or if this was an example of his acting range. See, I'm pretty sure that the character of Howard Roark was supposed to be played as an ambulatory block of wood, and that's exactly what Gary does.
(I look at Cooper in his role, I remember that he's the man who turned down the role of Rhett Butler because he was sure Gone with the Wind would be career poison, and I just shake my head.)
Patricia Neal: I think she's trying really hard to be Katharine Hepburn, and I can't fault her taste there, but it's kind of a Katharine Hepburn with brain damage. Not the kind that makes you stupid, the kind that makes you crazy and irrational. There was a scene where I thought for sure she was going to stab Roark -- and I was rooting for it. Loudly. Seriously, killing the main character could only have helped. I wanted to shut off the player and go write the fan fiction where she stabbed him right then and there.
And our villain. He's evil for the sake of being evil. You've all heard the advice for writers that (outside of parody and certain comedic styles) a villain never sees himself as a villain, that somewhere in there he's the hero of his own story? Rand hadn't. Nah, Ellsworth just woke up one morning and decided "you know, I think I'll go be evil. That sounds like fun. I'll just go out and start destroying people. I mean, gotta fill your day somehow, right?" Oh, and never name your kid Ellsworth. You name your son Ellsworth, he's basically guaranteed to grow up as a petty evil bastard with a funny accent.
So, final conclusion: Fountainhead, worth your time?
If you are a hardcore MSTy -- and I mean hard core -- go for it. Great fodder if you can stand the beating.
As an alternative to reading the novel, watch the first 20 minutes and then stop when the mooney eyes start, because it basically just goes on like that with a break for a rape scene.
As a movie in its own right, well... Let's put it this way. The Fountainhead is often used as an example of what a screenplay should NOT be.
Oh, BTW, if you need a name for a sci fi character, may I suggest "King Vidor"? God, the MST jokes you can pull from the director's name alone.
I know, I know. Those of you who know me saw the title, spit out your beverage and said "you watched what?!" Here's the deal. I know just enough of Ayn Rand's work that I wanted a little more information in order to be able to better criticize it, but at the same time I'm not willing to spend any significant part of my life reading it. So I figured I'd watch the movie (she even wrote the screen play) and only waste 2 hours instead of 20 or more. And I was even able to knit while doing so.
Let me tell you, this is a MST3K-worthy movie. It's basically stretches of diatribe with the occasional break in which absolutely no one talks and characters make completely uncommunicative expressions at each other. (Grant, are you in love? Angry? Sick? A turtle? I'm not gettin' it.)
Before I get into that, though, I will say that my opinion of Ayn Rand did increase a little bit after watching this. That doesn't say much, because my opinion was extremely low before. Nonetheless, instead of thinking "So, Ayn Rand: narcissist or sociopath?", I came out thinking "Let me guess; preacher's daughter?" Then I wiki'd her. Oh. Russian Jew, daughter of a business owner, revolution in her teens; that explains a LOT. Actually, I'd say that basically explains it all.
In any event, the Fountainhead doesn't come across as utterly sociopathic, so much as that it grabbed some good ideas and took them to the point where they became twisted and evil. I'm all for individualism, and critical thought, and creating for the sake of creating without worrying about whether others will like your work. (Actually trying to cultivate that last one myself.) But I do not at all want to live in a world where the pinnacle of human existence is a rapist who blows up a building because he doesn't like the changes made to his design and then walks out of the room when he knows his best friend is about to kill himself. That's one fucked up fantasy world Rand's built there.
(Ayn actually wrote this movie on the condition that her script not be edited in any way, much like her character designed the apartment complex he blew up on the condition that the plans not be changed in anyway. She had a hissy when the makers wanted to trim the longest speech in a movie to date. I'm trying to decide if the makers were brave, or stupid. They did back down and show it in its rambling entirety. Probably afraid she was going to blow up the lot if they didn't.)
(I doubt SHE would have gotten an acquittal for it.)
So, the movie. It's not a good sign when the first line makes you snert. "There's no room for originality in architecture." SNERT.
"There's no room for mathematics in engineering!"
"There's no room for woodwork in carpentry!"
>Snort< Yeah, that Frank Lloyd Wright guy, he's never going to amount to anything. I mean, who's ever heard of him?
You know what they call an architect with no originality? Unemployed. But then again, the first five minutes of the movie are people spouting things that no one in professional architecture has ever actually said without being fired on the spot. The next 20 minutes are solid diatribe, followed by some mooney eyes that end in about as blatant a rape scene as I can imagine someone making in 1949. When a woman attempts to flee out two different exits, is crying, and scratches the hell out of the guy, that is a rape. Pretty hard to deny, actually.
[Supposedly Rand said "if it was rape, it was rape by engraved invitation." Further proof that Ayn Rand was really messed up in the head. Personally, just because I wanted to boink a guy a few days ago when I invited him over once doesn't mean I still want to boink him when he breaks into my house later in the week after I've slapped him and stormed off when he called me a slut. The invitation was pretty clearly rescinded.)
Then back to more diatribe. The rest of the movie is basically diatribe and disturbing fantasy world. It just kind of beats you about the ears. Really, it couldn't be more heavy handed if it were wearing lead gloves.
So, actors/characters:
Gary Cooper: I'm trying to decide if he was really off, or if this was an example of his acting range. See, I'm pretty sure that the character of Howard Roark was supposed to be played as an ambulatory block of wood, and that's exactly what Gary does.
(I look at Cooper in his role, I remember that he's the man who turned down the role of Rhett Butler because he was sure Gone with the Wind would be career poison, and I just shake my head.)
Patricia Neal: I think she's trying really hard to be Katharine Hepburn, and I can't fault her taste there, but it's kind of a Katharine Hepburn with brain damage. Not the kind that makes you stupid, the kind that makes you crazy and irrational. There was a scene where I thought for sure she was going to stab Roark -- and I was rooting for it. Loudly. Seriously, killing the main character could only have helped. I wanted to shut off the player and go write the fan fiction where she stabbed him right then and there.
And our villain. He's evil for the sake of being evil. You've all heard the advice for writers that (outside of parody and certain comedic styles) a villain never sees himself as a villain, that somewhere in there he's the hero of his own story? Rand hadn't. Nah, Ellsworth just woke up one morning and decided "you know, I think I'll go be evil. That sounds like fun. I'll just go out and start destroying people. I mean, gotta fill your day somehow, right?" Oh, and never name your kid Ellsworth. You name your son Ellsworth, he's basically guaranteed to grow up as a petty evil bastard with a funny accent.
So, final conclusion: Fountainhead, worth your time?
If you are a hardcore MSTy -- and I mean hard core -- go for it. Great fodder if you can stand the beating.
As an alternative to reading the novel, watch the first 20 minutes and then stop when the mooney eyes start, because it basically just goes on like that with a break for a rape scene.
As a movie in its own right, well... Let's put it this way. The Fountainhead is often used as an example of what a screenplay should NOT be.
Oh, BTW, if you need a name for a sci fi character, may I suggest "King Vidor"? God, the MST jokes you can pull from the director's name alone.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Blog: Movie/TV: Shogun
I have no idea how to label the entry when I review one of the old epic miniseries like Shogun or Roots. Anyway, Shogun.
Um... Well, let me put it this way. It's an American movie, about Japanese history, with a white guy thrown in, made in 1980.
Oy vey...
Given that, it's not nearly as bad as it could be. Nonetheless, there is much unintentional amusement.
Language: Even the most rudimentary knowledge of the Japanese language will provide you with giggling opportunities. Now, I'm always fond of a movie using "Ikura desu ka" for "How are you?", which I think I heard somewhere in the first chapter -- although perhaps that character was asking the hero how much he costs. ("ikura desu ka" = "how much is it". To the best of my extremely meager knowledge, there is no direct open-ended equivalent to the English "how are you" and the closest is "Ogenki desu ka" = "Are you well?")
However, it is hard to beat in the first chapter when the hero is still in captivity and the not-nice local second-in-command and the evil Jesuit (which is largely a redundant statement in this movie) interpreter come in where the hero is sleeping, and the Jesuit insists that "you must get up right now and greet Omi-san with 'Konnichiwa'." Konnichiwa?! Good afternoon? Apparently the reason it's so urgent he get up is because he's slept until 3 pm.
Names: Mariko, Fujiko, Kiku, and many more, not even so much as an "O" honorific prefix floating around among the women until we meet Lady Ochiba -- and I suspect hers was a fluke. These are modern names that came into popularity in the early part of the 20th century. Using them here is the equivalent of setting an movie in Queen Elizabeth I's court and naming her ladies in waiting Keisha, Madison, and Taylor.
Stereotypes: The makers just can't keep their stereotypes straight. My favorite here is that if a married woman is so much as alone with a man other than her husband, she can be executed -- but it's perfectly OK for her to take a bath with one because the Japanese have no body taboos.
The magic burn cream gets high points on my list, too, because I know that knowledge of Western medicine was highly valued later in the 19th century because it was much more effective than Japanese medicine at the time. And we still don't have that kind of magic burn treatment even today.
Timing: Either Blackthorne becomes the second foreigner in all of history to be granted the title of samurai within just a few months of arriving in Japan, or even after several years of full immersion in Japanese culture he is only able to speak the most basic of sentences.
I also personally find it flaming hilarious that Blackthorne is made "Hatamoto" before he is made a member of the samurai class. Hatamoto in that time period was the title for a samurai in the direct service of a lord (rather than further down the hierarchy). In other words, he's given one of the highest possible ranks for a samurai before he's made a samurai.
Karma: For those interested in such things, there are a multitude of opportunities to shout "that's not karma!" in the last couple episodes. What they are describing as "karma" could maybe come under the term "dharma", but mostly they're just talking about good old-fashioned Western destiny. It is absolutely not karma.
Basic Plot: We are at the tail-end of the warring states period. We've got about 10 hours of movie time here. We can spend it watching a fictionalized Tokugawa Ieyasu fight to gain power over all Japan, or we can spend it watching a frankly rather lackluster romance. Romance it is! :P
So, is it worth watching? Um... It's probably not worth 10 hours of your life. But, there is Toshiro Mifune. ::squees and claps:: If you want the full Mifune filmography, you almost have to. Or, if you like laughing at anachronisms and can pick them out of a movie set in 16th/17th century Japan, go nuts. That's largely outside my knowledge, so I've only touched the tip of the iceberg. (Although, what is the deal with all the hakama having white ties no matter what the main fabric? I have never seen or heard of such a thing before. Is it a historical bit I didn't know, or did they have to special-order wrong hakama?) Or, if you don't know anything at all about Japan and don't give a crap, and like long drawn-out lackluster romances with occasional long stretches of dialog in a language you can't understand, this is the flick for you!
Um... Well, let me put it this way. It's an American movie, about Japanese history, with a white guy thrown in, made in 1980.
Oy vey...
Given that, it's not nearly as bad as it could be. Nonetheless, there is much unintentional amusement.
Language: Even the most rudimentary knowledge of the Japanese language will provide you with giggling opportunities. Now, I'm always fond of a movie using "Ikura desu ka" for "How are you?", which I think I heard somewhere in the first chapter -- although perhaps that character was asking the hero how much he costs. ("ikura desu ka" = "how much is it". To the best of my extremely meager knowledge, there is no direct open-ended equivalent to the English "how are you" and the closest is "Ogenki desu ka" = "Are you well?")
However, it is hard to beat in the first chapter when the hero is still in captivity and the not-nice local second-in-command and the evil Jesuit (which is largely a redundant statement in this movie) interpreter come in where the hero is sleeping, and the Jesuit insists that "you must get up right now and greet Omi-san with 'Konnichiwa'." Konnichiwa?! Good afternoon? Apparently the reason it's so urgent he get up is because he's slept until 3 pm.
Names: Mariko, Fujiko, Kiku, and many more, not even so much as an "O" honorific prefix floating around among the women until we meet Lady Ochiba -- and I suspect hers was a fluke. These are modern names that came into popularity in the early part of the 20th century. Using them here is the equivalent of setting an movie in Queen Elizabeth I's court and naming her ladies in waiting Keisha, Madison, and Taylor.
Stereotypes: The makers just can't keep their stereotypes straight. My favorite here is that if a married woman is so much as alone with a man other than her husband, she can be executed -- but it's perfectly OK for her to take a bath with one because the Japanese have no body taboos.
The magic burn cream gets high points on my list, too, because I know that knowledge of Western medicine was highly valued later in the 19th century because it was much more effective than Japanese medicine at the time. And we still don't have that kind of magic burn treatment even today.
Timing: Either Blackthorne becomes the second foreigner in all of history to be granted the title of samurai within just a few months of arriving in Japan, or even after several years of full immersion in Japanese culture he is only able to speak the most basic of sentences.
I also personally find it flaming hilarious that Blackthorne is made "Hatamoto" before he is made a member of the samurai class. Hatamoto in that time period was the title for a samurai in the direct service of a lord (rather than further down the hierarchy). In other words, he's given one of the highest possible ranks for a samurai before he's made a samurai.
Karma: For those interested in such things, there are a multitude of opportunities to shout "that's not karma!" in the last couple episodes. What they are describing as "karma" could maybe come under the term "dharma", but mostly they're just talking about good old-fashioned Western destiny. It is absolutely not karma.
Basic Plot: We are at the tail-end of the warring states period. We've got about 10 hours of movie time here. We can spend it watching a fictionalized Tokugawa Ieyasu fight to gain power over all Japan, or we can spend it watching a frankly rather lackluster romance. Romance it is! :P
So, is it worth watching? Um... It's probably not worth 10 hours of your life. But, there is Toshiro Mifune. ::squees and claps:: If you want the full Mifune filmography, you almost have to. Or, if you like laughing at anachronisms and can pick them out of a movie set in 16th/17th century Japan, go nuts. That's largely outside my knowledge, so I've only touched the tip of the iceberg. (Although, what is the deal with all the hakama having white ties no matter what the main fabric? I have never seen or heard of such a thing before. Is it a historical bit I didn't know, or did they have to special-order wrong hakama?) Or, if you don't know anything at all about Japan and don't give a crap, and like long drawn-out lackluster romances with occasional long stretches of dialog in a language you can't understand, this is the flick for you!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
