Retro Trio: The Great Beauty (2013); Hara-Kiri: The Death of a Samurai (2011); Bad Santa (2003)

This is Gep, in one of the countless amazing shots presented
in this outstanding movie.

The Great Beauty (2013)

Original Italian Title: La Grande Bellezza

Director: Paulo Sorrentino

An outstanding film, with an embarrassment of film technique riches.

For the first ten minutes or so of The Great Beauty, one might think they've been lured into an endless patchwork of visual imagery, with no clear or personal narrative. The film opens with several sequences of tourists marveling at and photographing some of the well-worn paths and sights of Rome, to a background of choir song. We then shift to a raucous nighttime party, which includes revelers of various ages and states of drunkenness and euphoria. Just when you think that film is simply going to be a visual panorama of the ancient city and its denizens, though, the film slows and focuses on a dapper gentleman in his sixties, who begins to narrate his perspective. This is Gep Gambardella - the heart and soul of The Great Beauty.

Gep is a writer who has produced nothing for over three decades. In his youth, though, he wrote a modern Italian masterpiece. Rather than build on this success by continuing his craft, though, he changed his goal to becoming the grandmaster of the Roman socialite scene. And he succeeded. For years and years, he was the epicenter of the social and artistic party world in the city.

Now, however, Gep is growing weary of the endless dance. Following Gep around the city, as he searches for more meaningful personal connections and even contemplates taking up his pen again, is a fantastic trip. He is affable, incredibly insightful and imaginative, and humorous, despite occasionally wearing his condescension on his sleeve. Watching Gep slowly disconnect from the shallower, more carnal, material realm that has been his comfort zone for so long, while he tries to reconnect with his own artistic nature, is captivating. And with his writer's eye, he is always aware of his own actions, in multiple contexts, and his commentary is priceless.

This vibrant sequence, in addition to being a visually dazzling,
has a depth, complexity, and tragedy to it that can only be
experienced by viewing the film. It's one of many of its kind in
the movie.

If Gep provides the emotional and intellectual substance of the film, cinematographer Luca Bigazzi provides the visual substance. Like an amazing number of Italian films, nearly every shot and sequence is perfectly framed and executed. You could pause the film at nearly any moment and be looking at something that could be hanging in an art gallery. Both the expansive exterior landscape shots and the interiors of the classical buildings are presented in all their glory, much to any film viewer's delight.

Gep's is a very personal story, but the context in which is occurs is just as important a theme. The writer's perspective has shifted to one of disgust for the hedonism that has consumed much of his city, including himself. It is a harsh criticism, and one that predictably resulted in confusion and outright anger from Italian intellectuals and artists who saw the film. Whether this was because they thought it was a gross, self-hating misrepresentation or whether they were uncomfortable seeing their own reflections a little too clearly, I can only guess.

The Great Beauty is too rich a film to adequately encapsulate in a post like this one. It should be clear, though, that I greatly enjoyed the film and will enjoy another viewing of it. Highly recommended.

Hara-Kiri: The Death of a Samurai (2011)

Director: Miike, Takashi

I was excited about this movie, having thoroughly enjoyed Miike's 13 Assassins. This other samurai period drama is equally as good, though in mostly different ways.

Hara-Kiri opens somewhat slowly, but very hypnotically. We watch as a local leader of a powerful clan of samurai grants an audience to a ragged-looking man who claims to be a ronin - a masterless samurai - who has lost his feudal lord, and who seeks to commit ritual suicide on their grounds, in an effort to reclaim his honor. The leader is quietly informed that this is likely a scam, with the ronin hoping that he will be given a modest amount of money and be sent on his way. This suspicion is confirmed when the samurai on the grounds find that the ronin's "sword" is a wooden fake. Instead of merely chiding and banishing him, they sadistically force him to go through with the suicide, with the wooden sword.

This scene is brutal to watch, as it is meant to be. What follows is a slow and painful revelation of exactly who the ronin was, and how he found himself in such dire straits. We watch a sad tale of love, poverty, and hope repeatedly dashed, forcing a young man into taking a gamble that ends horrifically.

This may all sound like a painful viewing experience, and it certainly is at several points in the film. There is much of the stuff of high melodrama, complete with tears of anguish and string music. However, there is far more to the tale to recommend it to those of us who have less interest in simply being depressed. Highly involved in the story is the young man's father-in-law, Kageyu, a former samurai of an clan who had been wiped out. When Kageyu becomes involved in his son's death, the movie becomes a study of the ostensible and often hypocritical notion of "honor" in medieval samurai culture. This analysis is what vaults this movie beyond most of its ilk.

Kageyu takes theh pose of ritual suicide, a posture that is
the touchstone for the entire picture. 

And in case you were wondering if there are any decent sword fights, the answer is a hearty "yes." Though they are few and far between for the first 90 minutes of the film or so, the movie ends with a wild one-man-versus-dozens whirlwind of sharp steel and righteous indignation. On its surface, it might seem like sensational, gratuitous action. But when you realize just what is driving that single warrior to fight so hard, the grander statement sinks in deeper and deeper. The final effect is powerful, to say the least.

Hara-Kiri: The Death of a Samurai is a great modern entry into an already-rich canon of samurai films. Highly recommended for anyone who doesn't mind a more brooding, challenging look at one of the most romanticized figures in the history of warfare.

Bad Santa (2003)

Director: Terry Zwigoff

Bad Santa is filthy, raw, and unrelenting. And it's hilarious.

The mission of this movie is clear, right from the jump: take the most cherished, purportedly selfless holiday in the land and tell a borderline-X-rated story centered on it. Mission riotously accomplished. Billy Bob Thornton plays Willie - a completely degenerate, alcoholic safe-cracker who, with his partner Marcus, poses as a mall Santa Claus in order to case the joint and rob the place blind on Christamas Eve.

You can probably guess where the humor derives from: the gloriously foul-mouthed, slovenly Willie interacting with hopeful kids is one area, but his generally fatalistic, hedonistic attitude towards the universe is the grander source of comedy. In a move that is initially self-serving, Willie invites himself into the home of Thurman - a socially awkward young boy who believes he is the real Santa Claus, and whose father is in prison for embezzlement. Willie takes every possible advantage of the naive Thurman, spewing language fit for a bar filled with drunken soldiers. Some of the funniest bits are Willie's puzzlement over Thurman's relentless attempts to gain his friendship, which Thornton converys through countless great facial expressions and deliveries of dialogue.

There's not a lot more to say about Bad Santa. If you haven't seen it, there is this clear positive: you will be able to tell whether you'll enjoy it by watching no more than the first 3 minutes. That's as long as it takes to get a sense of the film's humor, the protagonist's depravity, and the oncoming onslaught of linguistic filth. If you watch those initial moments and find yourself chuckling, then you'll certainly enjoy this extremely off-beat Christmas flick.

Film #30: It's a Wonderful Life (1947)

Director: Frank Capra

Initial Release Country: United States

Times Previously Seen: none (though I'd seen the last 30 minutes about 4 times)

20-Words-or-Fewer Summary (no spoilers):

All-American, self-sacrificing nice guy gets in a serious jam, contemplates offing himself, then gets help from an angel.

Uncut Summary (a full blow-by-blow, spoilers included. Fair warning.):

In the quaint American town of Bedford Falls, George Bailey grows up. From childhood, he proves to be exceptionally kind and selfless. At age 12, George saves his little brother, Harry, from drowning in a frozen pond. At age 15, he prevents his pharmacist boss from making a fatal error with his drug mixing. These actions, while wonderfully admirable, are the easiest of George's altruistic feats.

Here's George at 20, showing just how far he's going to be from sanity in one hour, movie time.

At 20, just as he prepares to travel the world before going to college, George (Jimmy Stewart) is called upon to take over his uncle and father's savings and loan business. There's really no money in it, and it stymies George's life-long dream of exploring the globe; however, he feels obligated to keep the local Scrooge, Mr. Potter, from getting his greedy fingers on the business. George sucks it up and takes the position, agreeing to hold down the fort until his younger brother returns from college in four years' time.

Four years later, a newly-married Harry returns from college. Surprisingly (or not), Harry has an opportunity to take a promising job with his father-in-law's company. The ever-generous George gives his brother a pass and decides to stick with the job. On the plus side, he realizes his love for beautiful girl-next-door, Mary (Donna Reed). Just after they get married, the town forces Harry to make another sacrifice. There's a serious bank run and the newlyweds have to use their travel money to support the savings and loan's depositors.

Over the course of the next fifteen years or so, the Great Depression comes and goes, as does World War II. Many of George's friends and his brother have seen the world and made plenty of money. In the meantime, George has remained in Bedford Falls with Mary. They have very little money, but they have four children and a lovely house that Mary has slowly renovated over the years.

And then, on Christmas Eve, disaster strikes. As a government loan officer shows up to see the books at Bailey Savings and Loan, Uncle Billy misplaces $8,000, which falls into the hands of the still-stodgy Mr. Potter. When the disappearance is revealed to George, he soon grows desperate. Desperation eventually turns to panic, and panic to mania. After pleading with an unsympathetic Potter for a loan, George decides to kill himself, hoping that his life insurance policy will pay for the missing cash. He staggers to the town bridge...

Watching from, literally, on high the entire time have been the heavenly host. The angels have heard the prayers of George's concerned friends and family and decide to help. They send Angel, Second Class Clarence Oddbody (Henry Travers). Clarence keeps George from ending himself and even grants him his transitory dark wish: that he'd never been born.

Initially writing off Clarence as some random kook, George returns to town to face the music. Little does he realize that Clarence has not been joking. As he traverses Bedford Falls, George confronts the reality of the town had he never existed: Potter has turned it into a commercialized den of iniquity, loaded with bars, cabarets, and desperate people. Most the George's friends and family are either in dire straits or dead. George refuses to accept this warped reality and slowly loses his mind, only barely grasping the positive influence that he has had on the many lives in the town. Mentally and emotionally shattered, he returns to the bridge.
While a devastated George nearly hits bottom, the angel Clarence returns reality right-side-up. George soon realizes that his friends and family are back to those he always knew. Despite the still-present financial trouble, he is overjoyed to return to this familiar reality and sprints through the town, filled with Christmas cheer.

George returns to his home to find his four children, but also the local police, who are waiting to arrest him for the absent $8,000. While George is far less concerned about this than before, it soon ceases to be a problem: Mary returns with all of George's friends in the town, all of whom have decided to pitch in a help George out of his fix. George is redeemed, the Savings and Loan in saved, and everyone has a merry Christmas.

Hip-Hip...Hooray!!

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (done after one viewing, before any further research):

I might just be a very sick and disturbed person. The things I like about this film may classify me as some kind of psychotic.

By nearly any account, It's a Wonderful Life is an American Christmas classic. It clearly follows in the tradition of Dickens's A Christmas Carol, and has been referenced and imitated endless times in the decades since the 1940s. We all know how many times it gets shown during the holiday season, and this speaks to its enduring place in our U.S. culture. It's a 20th century fable that has stood the test of time remarkably well.

I really don't like most of it. Most of it, mind you.

I chalk the things I don't like up the temporal context. It's a Wonderful Life was released on December 20th, 1946. World War II had ended, optimism was high the United States, and the entertainment machine was just starting to tap into the nascent "American Dream" that would mold popular film and TV culture for roughly the next thirty years. It's a Wonderful Life was one of the first films to get the formula down correctly: the all-American town; the idyllic, romantic home; the beautiful, dutiful wife; the four adorable kids; and the hard-working, self-sacrificing husband. Movies and TV shows would keep churning out this cookie-cutter again and again.

This is mainly what I don't like about this movie. While the film is not devoid of some characters with true depth, most of the Bedford Fallsians are very one-dimensional. Mr. Potter as the local Mammon is greed and evil incarnate. Uncle Billy is a bumbling boob. Martini is an almost offensive caricature of Italian Americans, complete with a gaggle of kids, an outrageous accent, and an affable dimness. In fact, nearly all of the town reminded me of the Saint Louis portrayed in Meet Me in St. Louis - a lot of hokey lines and flashy stereotypes, very little substance.

Here's the first 10 minutes or so from the film. Just pick any random 2 minutes from it and you'll see just how far off of the "Gee-Shucks"-o-Meter this first half or so of this film is:



This leads me to the moments I like in the film, and I can sum it up in one idea: when George Bailey starts to go batshit. The viewer can sense it building throughout the film's first hour-and-a-half (the much more familiar Christmas scenes only make up the last 30 minutes of the movie) - after every sacrifice made as an adult, you can see some small piece of George get crushed into a little ball and tossed into some dark corner of his soul. Well, after the money gets lost and George is facing jail time, he loses it, and he steadily devolves into a near-madman. And I all but revelled in every moment of it.

Hear me out. It should be obvious that I disliked the setting of Bedford Falls. The cheese factor is off the charts, and my feelings about the characters should be clear. The only grounding force is George Bailey (and, before he dies, George's father). As I saw George's dreams get suppressed by the stiflingly simple-minded townies and the cartoonishly evil Mr. Potter, I totally empathized with George, though I think my feelings different than those that Frank Capra intended. While I think he meant for the viewer to pull for George to snap out of his doldrums and realize the gifts around him, I was actually rooting for George to crack some skulls. It was how I would have felt had someone dropped me into the set of Meet Me in St. Louis - that I was stuck in some twisted, nightmarishly Disneyfied version of the American dream.

And so, as George began to rant, rave and rage against the trappings of Bedford Falls, I wanted him to succeed. Or at least to escape. He obviously feels the same at the darkest moment of the film - when he stands on the bridge and contemplates jumping. I certainly wasn't hoping for that, but I surely understood it.

Here's a great moment after the money disappears and George's frenzy begins. It's exactly the way any real human would act if he found himself amongst a gaggle of half-baked, fictional goobers. Probably most disturbing is from time 2:00 to about 5:00:



Somebody get that man a case of Southern Comfort, fer chissakes!

The latter 30 minutes were odd to see again. The truth is, I always thought that I had seen this film. I came to learn, though, that I had really only seen the last 30 of this 132-minute long tale. The well-known ending is really just adapted (ripped off?) from A Christmas Carol - instead of visiting past, present, and future realities as Ebenezer Scrooge does, though, George gets to see a world in which he never existed. Once this final portion of the film is set up in its initial 5 minutes, the remaining 25 belabor the point. I must concede, however, that this is from the perspective of 34-year-old who has grown up with science fiction, alternate reality, and time-jumping tales having already gone far beyond novel.

Despite my thinking that It's A Wonderful Life is overlong and devoid of any real teeth, there are some things to like. Jimmy Stewart is very good, though he is at his Jimmy Stewartest - clever, goofy, lovable, and gosh-darn-it, just a heckuva fella! While his performance as George Bailey has a dark element, I prefer his turns in The Shop Around the Corner, Rope and Vertigo. Donna Reed is also quite good, though her character is not totally fleshed out. She's certainly more vivid than almost everyone else in Bedford Falls, but there's still something a bit lacking.

And now, my greatest shame.

I truly did get choked up at the end. Not at the stupid "Every time a bell rings...." blah-blah-blah quote (by the way - that kid was teeth-grittingly annoying). No, the throat actually tightened when George finds that he has been left Clarence the angel's copy of Tom Sawyer, in which is inscribed "Remember that no man is a failure who has friends." That one got me. It's the same way I felt at the end of City Lights. Now, Frank Capra can join Charlie Chaplin on the short list of filmmakers of sappy movies that still squeezed a few tears from me.

Jerks.

Take 2: Why Film Geeks Love This Movie (done after further research):

It's a Wonderful Life is such a quintessentially American film that I could spend months researching critics' raves and gushing praise. Instead of all that, I picked the titan of the industry: Roger Ebert. I really like a lot of Ebert's reviews since he judges films based on what they were trying to do, not necessarily on how they stack up to other films.

Roger loves this old Frank Capra classic for reasons that I think most fans like it: the simple charm of a moral tale told in a cozy town, featuring affable characters. I have to disagree with Roger on a few points, though. While he finds the admittedly slapstick humor in the earlier segments of the movie charming (falling into a swimming pool, George Bailey talking to a naked Mary hiding in a bush), I found them tedious. Ebert even uses the word "corny" to describe a few of the scenes, but he does so with acceptance and warmth. Not me.

Ebert's synopsis is worth reading for the little history lesson it gives, as well. It's a Wonderful Life, while considered a very good film upon it's release (here's TIME's glowing review back in 1946), it shortly after went to sleep. It went to sleep for about three decades and was all but forgotten.

Then, it became public domain. This meant that any television station that could get its hands on the film could show it without cost. And so, guess what got shown over and over and over during Christmas time? You got it. Hence, a Christmas movie tradition was born, though I feel like it's lost some steam in recent decades, most notably to A Christmas Story.

Richard Corliss actually puts it all very succinctly here. He's absolutely right that this film is hard to see with fresh eyes, and I agree that everyone should try it if they haven't in a while. While I may not rush back to see this film again, I have to say that it's certainly not bad, and I never felt like it was wasting my time. Once the next snow falls for you, give this one a try - I all but guarantee that you won't hate it, and I suspect many of you will actually like it more than you expect.

That's a Christmas wrap (yuk yuk). 30 shows down, 75 to go.

Coming (Very!) Soon: Out of the Past (1947):


Shady dames, quiet tough guys, and lots and lots of shadows. Yup! It's more noir!! That's what I'm talkin' about, ya mug.

Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.

Film #26: Meet Me in St. Louis (1944)

Director: Vincente Minelli

Initial Release Country: United States

Times Previously Seen: none

20-Words-or-Fewer Summary (no spoilers, not that it matters):

Well-to-do, cheery family sings their way through a potential move from St. Louis to New York in 1903.

Blow-by-Blow Summary (detailed plot outline, with spoilers):

It's 1903 and the World's Fair is coming to Saint Louis, Missouri. The four sisters in the Smith family, a wealthy, happy tribe, have concerns. The two eldest daughters, Esther (Judy Garland) and Rose (Lucille Bremer), are pining to marry eligible bachelors. Esther has her sights set on the new dashing neighbor, John Truett (Tom Drake), while Rose awaits the proposal of another strapping young fellow. Their two much younger sisters are chuckling through the formative years of their innocent childhood.

Their father drops a bit of a bombshell when he arrives home one day and announces that the family will be moving to New York, so that he can take a new position. The family is greatly upset at the things that they will have to abandon in St. Louis: potential husbands, friends, and the fast-approaching World's Fair.

Here's Esther, regaling the riveted riders with her "Clang...the Trolley" tune.

The entire family sings their way through all of their joys and fears, with Mr. Smith finally making the decision not to move, in order to preserve his family's happiness and roots in their beloved city. His decision is rewarded in the end, when his daughters both become engaged and they all drink in the majesty of the World's Fair of 1904.

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (done after one viewing, before any research on the film):

This movie can kiss my ass.

Up to this point, I would say The Awful Truth had been the most taxing on my patience. Now, there is a new, undisputed champion of insufferability: Meet Me in St. Louis.

It's going to take some research for me to figure out why this movie made TIME magazines list of 100 important films. I have my theories, which I'll expound upon below, but I don't need to ponder my feelings about watching this movie - I couldn't stand it.

I've made clear my feelings on musicals before. The only shot a musical has in entertaining me is if: (1) the story has enough substance to hold my interest, and (2) the music is well-woven into the fabric of the film. This is why a musical like Swing Time or Cabaret is enjoyable for me. Meet Me in Saint Louis contains everything that steers me away from the genre. It's pure fluff and a textbook case of style over substance.

The story is as edgy as a down pillow. I honestly couldn't have cared less about the privileged Smith clan and their "problems" of finding love and dealing with a possible move to New York. After watching Citizen Kane, Casablanca, and Double Indemnity, three movies with a great amount of creative artistry and psychological sophistication and maturity, Meet Me in St. Louis was like watching an episode of The Wiggles. Actually, the Wiggles think the Smiths are a bunch of pansies.

Shocking factoid: Double Indemnity and Meet Me in St. Louis were released mere months apart, both to great success. This blows my mind and speaks to some kind of multiple personality disorder that U.S. culture was beginning to undergo.

The songs are bubble-gum fare of the highest order. The best-known cuts are "Clang Goes the Trolley" and "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," the latter of which is actually a classic and a legitimately great song. Aside from that, however, the only thing I can say about the music is that it's infectious. That's not a complement - I mean infectious in the same way that Mad Cow disease is infectious. You can't shake it and it will melt your brain.

You may (or may not) ask, "How on earth did you make it through nearly two hours of a film that you so obviously hated?" Good question. The answer is that my girlfriend and I took the opportunity to persistently add our own snarky commentary and voice-overs, a la Mystery Science Theater 3000. Two scenes in particular gave us some good ammunition. One was when a confused and enraged Judy Garland believes that her little sister has been roughed up by the neighbor, John. She promptly goes over and pummels the shit out of him. The second was when little "Tootie" Smith, after hearing her older sister attempt to sooth her sadness by singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," runs outside, grabs a massive stick, and commences to decapitate, eviscerate and disembowel the placid snowpeople in their front lawn. I'll save you the trouble and offer this latter little gem here (it is actually the one scene from the movie that I'd listen to and watch again):

That little chick's got a mean backswing.

Obviously, sarcasm was my only chance to survive through this piece of work. So, why is this movie touted so highly? My guess is that it was the first of its kind: a shockingly vibrant, well-shot formulaic musical. I'm not sure if there was a predecessor to it: Gone With the Wind type visuals, absolutely nothing controversial, and a string of snappy tunes, however sappy I think they may be. It's either that or simply the endurance of the Christmas song, which has become part of the American pop culture and holiday landscape.

I believe I've made myself clear. I do realize that many people love this type of film: The Sound of Music, West Side Story, Grease, and others could be put into the same category. I will say this though: even though I don't like any of these three films, either, at least they have a shade more edge to them. Meet Me in St. Louis is, to me, an absolutely G-Rated exercise in forgettable excess.

To paraphrase Leo from Miller's Crossing: if I never see it again, it'll be soon enough.

Take 2: Why Film Geeks Love this Movie (done after some further research):

Surprisingly, there's really not much out there to explain exactly what sets Meet Me in St. Louis apart from the others. Based on Richard Schickel's quick-shot review, I glean that this movie has a place in history for being the first film that offered the musical format using more down-to-earth characters (rather than high-minded, pure aristocrats, I assume).

The original review is an interesting little read, if only for two things. One is the line, "even the deaf should love this film." Oh, political correctness, where were you in 1944? While amusing, this little gag does point out that the visuals were impressive. The second thing the reviewer mentioned comes at the end - that the whole story and look of the film are too beautiful and attractive to be mistaken for the truth. These things, and the popularity of the songs, are seemingly what have dubbed this film a "classic."

And this, as stated before, is probably the bone that sticks in my craw. I don't mind heavy doses of complete fiction (I'm too big a fantasy and sci-fi nerd to try and argue that), but I can't take the froo-froo veneer of a film like Meet Me in St. Louis. Sorry.

That's a wrap. 26 shows down, 79 to go.

Coming Soon: Les Enfants du Paradis ("Children of Paradise"; 1945):

A 3-hour French drama set in a circus and revolving around a love triangle involving a mime. On the surface, it seems like a death sentence. Come on back and see if and how I survive this one.

Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.

Film #20: The Shop Around the Corner (1940)

Director: Ernst Lubitsch (also directed Ninotchka)

Release Country: United States

Times Previously Seen: none

20-Words-or-Fewer Summary (no spoilers):
In Hungary, an intelligent, sensitive & semi-stoic leather goods salesman finds love with mystery pen pal.

The Story (a detailed blow-by-blow, with spoilers. Fair warning):

In Budapest, Hungary, Alfred Kralik (Jimmy Stewart) is the top sales clerk at a high-end leather goods store. He is bright, pleasant, and the only man in the store with the ability and backbone to stand up to the quixotic nature of Mr. Matuschek, the owner of the shop. Kralik is excited about a running pen-pal exchange with an anonymous woman who seems to share his love of literature and romantic ideals, and with whom he soon plans to meet.

Just as we learn all of this, Mr. Matuschek hires the attractive and somewhat desperate Miss Klara Novak as a new sales clerk, much to the chagrin of the finance-conscious Kralik. Due to this rocky beginning, Novak and Kralik remain icy towards one another, never missing a chance to jab one another in their similarly passive-aggressive ways.

At the store, owner Matuschek begins to act ever-more erratically, eventually letting Kralik, his best and longest-standing worker, go. That evening, when a downtrodden Kralik is meant to have his fateful first meeting with his mysterious correspondent, he learns that she is, indeed, Miss Novak. Rather than completely reveal himself, he talks with her, picks her brain, dances around the truth, and leaves her at the café to wonder when her knight will appear.

The three most prominent players, left to right: Novak, Kralik, and Matuschek

At the same time back at the store, we learn the cause of Matuschek’s anxiety. He has suspected his wife of having an affair with Kralik. He learns from a detective that he has been half right: she has been having an affair with one of this employees, but with the obviously unscrupulous Vadas rather than the forthright Kralik. Upon learning of his grievous mistake, Matuschek attempts suicide, only to be stopped by the store’s delivery boy, Pepe.

Matuschik goes to convalesce in a hospital and rehires Kralik as the acting manager of the store, just in time for the Christmas Eve shopping blitz. Kralik gladly returns and fires Vadas with impunity. Afterwards, Kralek visits Miss Novak, who has become “psychologically ill” as a result of the crushing silence from her pen pal. That is, until a letter appears once again and puts her soul at ease.

Christams Eve arrives and Kralik sees the store to its greatest sales day in history. As the evening closes, he takes the chance to coyly tease Miss Novak about her dreamed of “fiancé.” After misleading her for a few minutes, he finally reveals himself as her mystery correspondent, and they fall into each others’ arms.

Merry Christmas, every one!

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (done after one viewing & before any research):
This film was like aloe on my movie-watching soul.

I was skeptical before watching, however. The summary of the film pointed out how it had been remade recently into the rom-com You've Got Mail, starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. Upon seeing this, my expectations went off a cliff.

I really needn't have worried, though. A mere ten minutes into the film, I realized that this was going to be the type of Jimmy Stewart movie that I liked. While I'm not a major fan of his "American boy next door" roles (The Philadelphia Story, It's a Wonderful Life), I have found that I like him best when he is a bit dark and edgy, such as in the Hitchcock films Rope or Vertigo. In The Shop Around the Corner, he plays a really pleasing mid-point between the two. Alfred Kralik is a cool and effective intellectual at work, and a soft romantic outside of the workplace. The character is very well-rounded and Stewart plays him perfectly.

The interplay between Kralik and Novak is often scathing and humorous, in well-balanced turns.

This might be one of the best Christmas movies I've ever seen. Not that Christmas is the focal point, but the grand finale on Christmas Eve left me with the feeling that I presume one is meant to get at the end of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol", yet I have never felt for that age-old classic. There are moments of playfulness, romance, and a touch of darkness through which you must travel in order to come into the light and feel a sense of relief and joy at the end. The fact that the setting is the far-off country of Hungary, and that it is a 40s black-and-white only add to the sense that you're watching a fairy tale unfold.

Back to the acting. Stewart was certainly the stand-out. Maragaet Sullavan does admirably, as she's certainly pretty enough and handles the character well, though I feel that there was nothing singular about her performance. The supporting cast is fine, if all rather 1- or 2-dimensional, but let's face it - that's the way most films were back in the day. Exhibit A in this film is the Ferencz Vadas character, an obvious scumbag with zero redeeming qualities. It doesn't take a very astute viewer to figure out that he's "the bad guy." I guess every fairytale needs a bald-faced villain.

I suppose if I had to narrow what I liked about the movie so much down to a word, it would be "balanced." The serious parts aren't too serious as to weigh down the lightheartedness of the tale, the clever parts aren't trying to be too clever (a la His Girl Friday), and the more obvious moments of humor never spill over into the absurd or slapstick.

The Shop Around the Corner is not a trailblazing masterpiece. It is not Citizen Kane, The Seven Samurai, or The Godfather. It won't challenge any of your core values, open new worlds to you, or dazzle you with artistic creativity. It is, however, a masterfully crafted and executed film that is a pleasure to watch. I'll certainly look forward to next winter, when December rolls in and the snow begins to fall, as I now have a new film to add to the short list of solid Christmas movies that complement the season.

Nearing the end of the film, Kralik's feelings start to blossom into touching sorrow, though Novak still doesn't know who her admirer really is.

Take 2; or, Why Film Geeks Love This Movie (done after some further research):

The Shop Around the Corner, being a fairly fancy-free movie devoid of literary sophistication, does not demand a ton of analysis and research. In fact, the original 1940 TIME magazine review uses some amazingly accurate word choices in describing the film. I especially like this trifecta of adjective phrases: "...completely unimportant, highly entertaining, expertly carpentered...". The other gem of the review is, "James Stewart walks through the amiable business of being James Stewart." They certainly had that one nailed - and that was a really early "James" Stewart role.

Richard Schickel's more contemporary review echoes the sentiments of the movie's lack of any grand depth or meaning. Yet he, too, is under the film's spell.

Of final note is just how timeless this admittedly "unimportant" film has been. Originally a play called Parfumerie by Hungarian playwright Miklos Laszlo, it has been remade and retold in the form of The Shop Around the Corner (1940), the musical film In the Good Old Summertime (1949), the musical She Loves Me (1963 and 1993), and the more familiar You've Got Mail (1999). Like any good dish, it seemingly never gets old.

That's a wrap. 20 films down. 85 to go.

Coming Soon: Pinocchio (1940):

What better way to usher in the very first color film on the list than a classic Walt Disney film, I ask you? This one should be interesting...

Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.