NJ and Sacramento movies
Synecdoche, New York [2008]. A playwright (Philip Seymour Hoffman) attempts to write a play about himself and the women in his life. I tried to understand this film as a rumination about several possible themes. Getting old and leaving an imprint. Opening up yourself for self-analysis and your natural tendency to close things off. Performance art as recreating what already has been, in a new and unique way that is a simulacrum of the original. But I didn't feel like any of these ideas stuck to the script, despite its magical realism and dispensation with chronology. The visuals weighed with symbolism, but Hoffman's mumbling and depressive character didn't help involve me in the developments. Neither the quirkiness nor the meta nature of the play within a play within a movie really resonated with me. The movie aspired to much, but I, for one, didn't see that it achieved it. 6/10.
Dio perdona... Io no! (God Forgives... I Don't!) [1967]. A train has been robbed and all the passengers killed; our heroes suspect it is an old friend. I don't normally go for westerns, but when I saw that title in my parents' TV listings, I knew I had to watch it. Our heroes are named Cat Stevens (yes, really) and Hutch Bessy (yes, REALLY), though I never heard either of their names uttered in the entire film. Instead they were called "Pretty Face" (so true) and "Jackass" (not so true). Anyway, Pretty Face is quite a looker, with piercing blue eyes, rugged stubble on a tan face, and buns so perfectly outlined in his well-worn pants that you don't mind looking at him all movie long. And maybe it's just me, but I felt like there was a homoerotic undertone to the friendship between Pretty Face and Butch Hussy Hutch Bessy. In any case, my mind wandered as to what the two of them did in those moments alone. Given his name, I'd guess Hutch was the top... :-P
Okay, I'll stop with the uncomfortable fantasizing. The story is that Pretty Face is a wandering poker player who's quick on the draw and Hutch works for the insurance company that insured the stolen gold. They both suspect they know who robbed the train, even though this someone died a year earlier. The villain has a mop of curly red hair, a Friendly Mutton Chops-style beard, on top of a sweaty, round body. Coupled with some heavy-breath giggliness and a dash of flame, he looked and acted like a diabolic Mike McShane. It's not the most gripping story and has its holes (how did everyone end up in the hideout?), but there's enough beautiful flourishes to hold your interest. It's worth it to see the initial poker scene with Pretty Face, the flashback pre-shootout monologue, the cinematography in the scene with the well-, and some occasionally very well-, framed shots. It's not a great spaghetti western, but it's an enjoyable one worthy of such an awesome name. 7/10.
Shen jing dao (Mad Mad Mad Swords) [1969]. Chen Ziyuan, the fourth best student of Qingcheng Mountain kung fu school, unwittingly defeats some of the best swordsmen of his day. This was supposedly a popular spoof of several classic kung fu movies, with Chen defeating the blind swordsman and one-armed swordsman, among others. I came into the movie thinking it would be Jackie Chan-style, with comedic undoings of experts through dumb luck and bumbling and Chen not wanting to win. But that's not really what happens. Chen knows some decent kung fu and he wins primarily through trickery and cheating. He's also unapologetic about his success. The kung fu amounts to some amateurish kicking and the comedy doesn't exceed someone doing a pee-pee dance. Pretty boring and uninspired. 5/10.
L.A. Story. [1991]. Harris Telemacher (Steve Martin) is an L.A. weatherman who begins receiving messages from a freeway sign. I think this is Martin's best work -- no slapstick, just funny dialogue and observations. I watched it with my sister in Sacramento--we had both seen it many times, but it's been a long time since either of us had seen it (almost 10 years for me, I think). Truthfully, L.A. has not changed much in almost 20 years: the car culture, the beauty/image culture, the therapy culture, the pay-for-culture culture, etc. is all still there. And love it or hate it, it makes for a pretty unique place which Martin lovingly pokes fun at. I think he may have started out as the cynic who hated L.A. behavior, but who, like the British tourist in the movie, began appreciating certain side effects that gave the city character. The romantic plot that drives the movie has its ups and downs and thus is quite believable, with a bit of magic thrown in to give it that Hollywood touch of destined love. It's not ever a subject of the humor, but rather a thing of magical wonderment, best exemplified by a scene of pure expression of the newness of love. Little touches like that show that Martin didn't want a gag movie, or guy-incompetent-at-love movie, but a rather straight-faced story of the joys and humors of life. 9/10.
Dio perdona... Io no! (God Forgives... I Don't!) [1967]. A train has been robbed and all the passengers killed; our heroes suspect it is an old friend. I don't normally go for westerns, but when I saw that title in my parents' TV listings, I knew I had to watch it. Our heroes are named Cat Stevens (yes, really) and Hutch Bessy (yes, REALLY), though I never heard either of their names uttered in the entire film. Instead they were called "Pretty Face" (so true) and "Jackass" (not so true). Anyway, Pretty Face is quite a looker, with piercing blue eyes, rugged stubble on a tan face, and buns so perfectly outlined in his well-worn pants that you don't mind looking at him all movie long. And maybe it's just me, but I felt like there was a homoerotic undertone to the friendship between Pretty Face and Butch Hussy Hutch Bessy. In any case, my mind wandered as to what the two of them did in those moments alone. Given his name, I'd guess Hutch was the top... :-P
Okay, I'll stop with the uncomfortable fantasizing. The story is that Pretty Face is a wandering poker player who's quick on the draw and Hutch works for the insurance company that insured the stolen gold. They both suspect they know who robbed the train, even though this someone died a year earlier. The villain has a mop of curly red hair, a Friendly Mutton Chops-style beard, on top of a sweaty, round body. Coupled with some heavy-breath giggliness and a dash of flame, he looked and acted like a diabolic Mike McShane. It's not the most gripping story and has its holes (how did everyone end up in the hideout?), but there's enough beautiful flourishes to hold your interest. It's worth it to see the initial poker scene with Pretty Face, the flashback pre-shootout monologue, the cinematography in the scene with the well-, and some occasionally very well-, framed shots. It's not a great spaghetti western, but it's an enjoyable one worthy of such an awesome name. 7/10.
Shen jing dao (Mad Mad Mad Swords) [1969]. Chen Ziyuan, the fourth best student of Qingcheng Mountain kung fu school, unwittingly defeats some of the best swordsmen of his day. This was supposedly a popular spoof of several classic kung fu movies, with Chen defeating the blind swordsman and one-armed swordsman, among others. I came into the movie thinking it would be Jackie Chan-style, with comedic undoings of experts through dumb luck and bumbling and Chen not wanting to win. But that's not really what happens. Chen knows some decent kung fu and he wins primarily through trickery and cheating. He's also unapologetic about his success. The kung fu amounts to some amateurish kicking and the comedy doesn't exceed someone doing a pee-pee dance. Pretty boring and uninspired. 5/10.
L.A. Story. [1991]. Harris Telemacher (Steve Martin) is an L.A. weatherman who begins receiving messages from a freeway sign. I think this is Martin's best work -- no slapstick, just funny dialogue and observations. I watched it with my sister in Sacramento--we had both seen it many times, but it's been a long time since either of us had seen it (almost 10 years for me, I think). Truthfully, L.A. has not changed much in almost 20 years: the car culture, the beauty/image culture, the therapy culture, the pay-for-culture culture, etc. is all still there. And love it or hate it, it makes for a pretty unique place which Martin lovingly pokes fun at. I think he may have started out as the cynic who hated L.A. behavior, but who, like the British tourist in the movie, began appreciating certain side effects that gave the city character. The romantic plot that drives the movie has its ups and downs and thus is quite believable, with a bit of magic thrown in to give it that Hollywood touch of destined love. It's not ever a subject of the humor, but rather a thing of magical wonderment, best exemplified by a scene of pure expression of the newness of love. Little touches like that show that Martin didn't want a gag movie, or guy-incompetent-at-love movie, but a rather straight-faced story of the joys and humors of life. 9/10.