Requiem for a Dream (2000)

Director: Darren Aronofsky

Still a disturbing, hypnotic portrayal of addiction in a couple of forms.

The movie follows four people in Brooklyn - Sara Goldfarb, her son Harry, his girlfriend Marion, and his closest friend Tyrone. Harry, Marion, and Tyrone are all heroin addicts who have plans to become dealers and attain some self-sufficiency; maybe even get rich. Sara is obsessed with getting on television, in particular on a self-help show focused on looking better. To do so, she begins a ruthless regimen of diet pills that results in erratic behavior and a fracturing of her mind. By tale's end, all four people are horribly broken: Sara is in a psychiatric institution after a complete mental breakdown; Harry has had his arm amputated due to an untreated infection from his intravenous drug use; Marion has taken to completely sexually degrading herself for heroin, and Tyrone has landed in prison.

A simple summary of this story doesn't come close to conveying this film's strengths. This was Darren Aronofsky's second feature-length film, after his brilliant, claustrophobic, black-and-white Pi, about a harried mathematician. With Requiem for a Dream, he took his artistic skills to draw a frantic parallel between addiction to hard drugs and addiction to seemingly innocuous substances like television or diet pills. Unlike most "drug" movies, this one doesn't end with a third-act redemption. The quartet of addicts all hit rock-bottom, at least one of them irrevocably, and that's where the story ends. Even the then-controversial and surprisingly popular Trainspotting - which predated Requiem by a few years - had a more uplifting ending. Aronofsky's film does depict the apparent bliss that addicts feel when they get their fix, be it hard drugs or less obvious means of stimulation, but those euphoric moments are brief and easily forgotten by the film's end.

This description should make it clear that this is not an "entertaining" film. It's never fun to watch people fall into pits of addiction from which they won't or almost certainly won't save themselves. This is why I've only seen this movie twice - the first time in 2002 and then again 18 years later. It's just tough to stomach in many ways. Still, there is an artistry and skill to its execution that I had to see again, and I'm glad that I did. As hard as it is to watch, I have to admire how the story puts TV and diet pill addiction on the same level as heroin addictions, and arguably has worse consequences for its victim, Sara. And the cinematic techniques used to convey the sense of paranoia, panic, and fevered desperation that Sara experiences are nerve-wrackingly effective. As her mental state deteriorates, Sara's faded little apartment living room soon feels every bit as confining as a sweatbox at a Floridian penitentiary. With equal skill, the masterful editing of the movie's visuals and sound gives a sense of the shifts between sobriety and intoxication of various characters. It's often amazingly hypnotic, just on an aesthetic level.

Sara chats with her son, Henry, before things start to go
gradually off the rails for both of them. Just one part of
the grand tragedy is that Henry, himself addicted to heroin,
is the only person who later sees the telltale signs of addiction
in his mother.

There did seem to be a bit of buoyancy missing from the movie, mostly in the first act. Not that it was necessary, or that there needed to be much of it, but I couldn't help wonder if spending just a little more time seeing the characters be happy with one another might not have made their tragedies even more poignant. For the most part, we just see them suffering and fairly tense right from the start, and things only get worse as the story unfolds. Part of this feeling probably comes from the fact that the actors do such excellent work, which should come as no shock when you see the cast: Ellen Burstyn was nominated for a ton of awards for her performance as Sara; Jared Leto and Jennifer Connelly play Harry and Marion, and the surprising but highly capable Marlon Wayans plays Tyrone. These four do such great work that, grim as the tale is, it pulls you along in the hopes that somebody manages to escape their fates.

I've long been a huge fan of Darren Aronofsky, and I like every one of his films, to one degree or another. While I don't have Requiem for a Dream among my favorites of his (those would be The Fountain and The Wrestler), Requiem for a Dream is an excellent film on a dark subject. If you're one who isn't put off by difficult, and depressing subject matter, then I recommend that you check this one out. 

Black Swan (2010)

Director: Darren Aronofsky

A meticulously-molded adaptation of the Swan Lake ballet into a psychological horror. I dig it.

The movie follows young ballerina Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman), an ambitious perfectionist whose dream seems to come true when she is selected to play the lead role of the Swan Queen in her company's new, reimagined version of the classic Tchaikovsky ballet. The big twist is that both the lead role and the role of the antagonist and rival, The Black Swan, will also be played by Nina. The real challenge is for the uptight, extremely conservative Sayers to try and learn how she can let go and play a dark, manipulative, highly sensual character such as The Black Swan. The immense pressure she puts on herself is ratcheted up in the form of Lily (Mila Kunis), a fellow company dancer who seems to embody all of the bold sexuality that the company director wants Nina to show when she plays the Black Swan.

Like nearly all of Aronofsky's movies, I love how he approached this story. While his movies are ostensibly all about very different topics and take place in vastly different worlds and genres, from science fiction to mathematics to drug addiction, they all seem to focus on the psychology of obsessive personalities. Black Swan is no different, looking at how an obsessive perfectionist sees her world start to fall apart as she confronts and tries to embody a character who is more than she can handle. As has often been the case, Natalie Portman handles the strong script exceptionally well (I've always found that she performs up or down to the script she's given), especially when she has to shift between the pristine White and the malevolent Black Swans towards the end of the picture.

Then there is the visual component. I thought Aronofsky and his longtime cinematographer Matthew Libatique translated all of Nina's claustrophia and mania throughout the entire movie. And the surreal visual effects at the end of the movie are done to great effect. These are things that could have come off as silly, but they only enhance the heightened and fractured mental state that Nina is undergoing while she dances on opening night.

This was the second time I'd seen this movie, but it was the first since its theatrical release back in 2010. It holds up, though, just as I've found all of Aronofsky's films do. I believe this is a function of his always imbuing his movies with multiple layers, with at least one of them being themes universal enough that they transcend almost any attempt to date them. Black Swan won't be for everyone. A friend of mine who really loves ballet couldn't shake the fact that the version of the ballet in the movie is a wildly different take on Tchaikovsky's original. Also, the movie is far less about ballet specifically and much more about the drive that can consume a person. The fact that Nina is a ballerina is mostly incidental; she could be the mathematician Max in Pi, Randy "The Ram" in The Wrestler, the titular Biblical prophet in Noah, or any of the protagonists in Aronofsky's movies. But if one doesn't get hung up on the ballet aspect of it too much, and if one is open to dark tales that dig into some twisted psychology, then Black Swan is for you. 

Retro Trio: The Wrestler (2008); The People vs. Larry Flynt (1996); Finding Dory (2016)

The Wrestler (2008)

Director: Darren Aronofsky

I fell in love with this movie back before I even started this blog, so I never did a review of it. I recently rewatched it with my wife, who hadn't seen it. She was impressed, and I was reminded of why I saw it twice in the theaters ten years ago.

The movie is a documentary-style following of fictional professional wrestler Robin Ramzinski, whose wrestling moniker is Randy "The Ram" Robinson, played by Mickey Rourke. Set roughly around the late '00s, Randy is a wrestler well past his prime. In the late 1980's, he was on top of the wrestling world, watched and adored by hundreds of thousands of pro wrestling fans. Now, however, he is struggling mightily. Working as a mover in a grocery store and barely able to afford rent for his broken down mobile home, Randy still puts his meager disposable income into staying in shape and wrestling in small, local events. Though still respected by the younger generation of wrestlers and old-school fans of the medium, Randy is only hanging on thanks to his legacy and a steady dose of steroids and other risky supplements. After he suffers heart attack, he begins to rethink the wrestling life. He decides to hang up his bright green tights and try to rebuild his broken life. He begins to reconnect with his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood), starts working a steadier job at the deli counter in the grocery store, and seeks to deepen his relationship with a stripper (Marisa Tomei) who is, herself, questioning her line of work. But just as Randy seems to be getting his emotional life back in order, old, self-involved habits rear their heads and send him spiraling back to isolation. He ultimately retreats back to the one place he felt comfortable - the ring, even though it will likely cost him his life.

When one hasn't watched a movie in a decade, it is easy to wonder if it will be as entertaining or engaging as the original viewing. Despite being a devoted fan of Darren Aronofsky, this same question ran through my mind before this recent viewing. But it was just as good as I remembered. Even more surprisingly, my wife really liked it, and she has very little interest in pro wrestling. This is due to the movie's dual focuses: the fascinating and often hidden culture and world around pro wrestling, and the brilliant character study of Randy "The Ram."

Shot in documentary style, the feel of the movie wonderfully authentic, and thanks to an Academy Award-winning performance by the battered Mickey Rourke, it is easy to see what exactly makes the Randy character tick. He is not an overly complex man - his love of wrestling and the glory that being in the ring provides supersedes everything else - but within about 100 minutes of movie time, you get to understand this through his various relationships, moments of triumph, and his mistakes.

This has thus far been easily the most accessible film by Aronofsky, whose other films have taken on grand, cerebral, spiritual themes (sometimes all three). From his first movie Pi to his most recent mother!, the Brooklyn-born filmmaker loves going big, thematically, and sometimes even visually, such as with films like The Fountain or Noah. With The Wrestler, he showed that he is equally skilled with small-scale, personal stories grounded very much in the real world. Even if that "real world" involves grown men wearing fluorescent spandex and pretending to fight in a boxing ring.

The ever-outspoken Larry Flynt, being gagged and bound
in court after repeated outbursts and (often successful)
attempts to show up the judge.

The People vs. Larry Flynt (1996)

Director: Milos Foreman

This movie still holds up phenomenally well, these twenty-plus years after its release.

The People vs. Larry Flint is a fictionalized biopic that chronicles key moments in the life of Larry Flint (Woody Harrelson), the founder and CEO of Hustler magazine - a periodical that started in the 1970s and depicted women in various states of undress and in compromising positions of variously scandalous natures. Flint was a self-made multi-millionaire who started in the strip club business but saw his wealth expand exponentially when his Hustler magazine very quickly became a publishing hit. He also became a target of the newly-emerging "Moral Majority" group founded by televangelist Jerry Falwell and like-minded preachers and their followers. These groups often sued Flint and tried everything they could to shut down his publishing operation, which they saw as corrupting the country. Flint became a rather unlikely and thoroughly uncouth champion of free speech, often taking the government and various powerful groups to court over his right to publish his magazine. He was also paralyzed from the waist down after a failed assassination attempt, and his wife Althea (Courtney Love) suffered a slow and fatal spiral into drug overdose.

I hadn't watched this movie for probably over twenty years, and I was pleasantly surprised at how the quality still shines through on every level. No, I don't find Larry Flint a particularly admirable person for his systematic profiteering off of the blatant sexualization of women in his magazines. But this is the very type of contradiction that the movie addresses - simply because you don't admire a person should not be a reason to silence their right to say and publish what they wish, provided that all involved are consenting adults. It's easy for most people to generally agree on the right to free speech when it comes to political views (though that's taken a hit lately) or general opinions about fairly innocuous topics. But what about when it comes to something that more than a few people find highly objectionable, like pornography? The U.S., as progressive as it is in many ways, has long had a strong Puritanical streak running through it, and sexual prudishness is one of the ways that it has manifested itself. The story of Larry Flint, his legal disputes, and the uproar that they caused is a fascinating case study in what, exactly, free speech represents and protects. These themes are where the real meat and depth of this movie come from.

Even beyond the more meaningful tale of Flint's battles, which actually went all the way to the Supreme Court, the movie is highly entertaining. Larry Flint always cut a very colorful, if crass, character, and he is written and played with great verve by the oft-underrated Woody Harrelson. When you add in the excellent supporting performances by Courtney Love and Ed Norton, you get top notch acting to go along with the other strengths of the film.

I probably won't need to watch this movie again any time soon, but I still highly recommend it to any who have never seen it, or haven't seen it in many years.

And now, from a biopic about a smut-monger to a family-friendly movie about an amnesiac fish...

The folks at Pixar have "cute" down to a science, as
evidenced by the young, large-eyed Dory and her doting
parents.

Finding Dory (2016)

Directors: Andrew Stanton and Angus McLane

The wife and I finally got around to checking this one out, and we enjoyed it.

The story follows Dory, the blue tang fish from Finding Nemo, as she sets off on a quest for her long-lost parents. Along the way, we viewers learn that Dory's famous forgetfulness is a condition that she was born with, and is the reason that she first wandered off from her parents years before she met Nemo and his father Marlon.

Dory's quest takes her back to a massive public aquarium, where she rediscovers several old friends from her time there - a near-sighted whale shark, a beluga whale with damaged echo location, and a few others - who try to help Dory find the trail back to her parents. One of the greatest helpers is a new friend, Hank, a clever, camouflaging octopus with a missing limb.

If you sense a pattern here, you're right. Finding Dory is very much about how those with disabilities can overcome them and succeed at something. It's a welcome message, and one that is handled well, if not always in the subtlest of ways. What impressed me most about this movie is how it truly does stand on its own, without relying on the tremendous success and impact of its predecessor, the early Pixar hit, Finding Nemo. Although several characters from that instant classic animated film appear in the picture, this movie has its own themes, primary characters, and unique plot. And it does bear plenty of the trademark Pixar visual creativity, with some great gags and use of the brilliant color palates at their disposal.

Finding Dory is a very satisfying sequel, even if there is a touch of the saccharine to its ending. It continues the tradition of Pixar movies that have displayed wonderful humor with themes relevant to everyone from age five through a hundred. 

Retro-Trio: Noah (2014); AVP: Alien vs. Predator (2004); Eagle vs. Shark (2007)

Noah (2014)

Director: Darren Aronofsky

My third time seeing the movie, and I still think it's phenomenal.

I gave this one a full review back when it was released, and you can view it here, so I'll keep this one short. It's been about two years since I last saw the movie, and it has grown no less impressive to me. What stands out most at this point for me are the overarching theme of the burden of responsibility and the film's expert pacing.

I still find Aronofsky's take on the titular Old Testament protagonist highly compelling. With Noah almost literally having the weight of the world on his shoulders, his anguish is palpable. This, however, had the potential to become a bit dull if it had been the only struggle or storyline in the movie. Rather, we also get the added and essential layer of Noah's misunderstanding of the responsibility thrust upon his shoulders by his lord. Because of his sorrow at having to see and allow nearly every person in the world die around him, he takes on a completely apocalyptic view of everything - to the point that he swears to slaughter even his own adopted grandchildren, should they be born. It is a brutally dark turn, but one that captures both the light and dark sides of Old Testament "heroism."

The pacing of the movie is also phenomenal. Considering how much is covered - from revealing this particular version of Noah's earth, right through the entire flood and its toll on Noah and his family, the tale moves along at a very satisfying pace. Nothing feels bogged down or rushed at any point, with the entire epic tale clocking in at just a bit over two hours. It's a testament to Aronofsky and his editor Andrew Weisblum that they told such a grand story so efficiently.

I actually bought this movie on blu-ray, and I haven't regeretted it. It's one that I've obviously gone back to a few times already, and will continue to do so in the future.

AVP: Alien vs. Predator (2004)

Director: Paul W.S. Anderson

After so many years avoiding this movie, I have to say it wasn't bad. Not great, by any means, but not bad either.

Like plenty of sci-fi adventure geeks, I revere the original two Alien movies, and I absolutely love the original Predator. I own all three movies and watch them about every year or two, and still rank them among my favorites. Still, I'm all too aware that, like many sci-fi "franchises," the quality of the originals faded severely as studios kept cranking out follow-ups. The Alien and Aliens are iconic; Alien 3 was mediocre at best, and Alien: Resurrection was a total mess. Predator is brilliant; Predator 2 was decent but a dropoff, and 2010's Predators was a dull rehash of the original.

Tucked in, just before that final Predators film were the two "AVP" flicks - Alien versus Predator. This first one, released in 2004, tells the story of a group of scientists gathered by billionaire Charles Bishop Weyland (a name familiar to Alien movies devotees) to explore a mysterious heat signature detected at a remote, abandoned station on Antarctica. The team digs deep beneath the surface to discover a wildly elaborate, labrynthine pyramid structure. As they explore, they ascertain that it was built by a race of extra-terrestrial hunters - the "Predators" introduced in that film series - as a staging ground for periodically staged hunts of trapped xenomorphs known from the Alien series. Little does the team of explorers know that the initial heat signature also acted as a beacon to a trio of Predators, who have also arrived on the scene to take part in the ritual hunt.

Nobody will ever mistake AVP for the very best of either of its root film series, in terms of quality. The acting is spotty at best, with the two main leads clearly being hired for their looks over their acting skills, and the dialogue is rather tepid throughout, with nary a decent one-liner to be found. And the little attempts at human connection or emotion fall pretty flat. But as an action/adventure film, the movie does just enough right to hold one's attention; at least it did for me. The backstory of the Predators arriving on earth centuries earlier and being revered as gods by the ancient Aztecs is fun, and the setting of the subterranean pyramid works well for this sort of picture. None of it is overly original, but it shows just enough novelty to keep things interesting. And the fights between the Aliens and Predators, mostly kept to small-scale, one-on-one fights, work well.

This movie is a decent way to scratch the "Alien" or "Predator" itch that one might have, while not watching the vastly superior original films. Several friends had recommended it to me, and I can now see why they enjoyed it, for what it is. However, since those very same friends have told me what a piece of garbage the followup AVP: Requiem was, I will avoid that movie like xenomorph blood.

Eagle vs. Shark (2007)

Director: Taika Waititi

Within the last few years, I've grown to become a great fan of New Zealand director Taika Waititi. It began around 2015, after watching and loving his vampire mockumentary What We Do in the Shadows. Then, my wife and I fell in love with his 2016 film The Hunt for the Wilderpeople, followed by backtracking to his earlier film Boy, which we also greatly enjoyed. The most recent icing on the cake for me was his deft and hilarious handling of large-scale superhero movies with the brilliant Thor: Ragnarok. Having gone 4-for-4 with me, it was only logical to go all the way back to Waititi's very first feature-length film, the low-budget regional Kiwi flick Eagle vs. Shark.

The wife and I really liked it.

The movie tells the story of Lily (Lauren Taylor), a rather shy young woman who works at a fast food restaurant and harbors a crush for the nerdy Jarrod (Jemaine Clement), who works at the nearby video game shop. When Lily is callously fired, she dares to crash a video game party that Jarrod hosts, and the two sleep together. Lily is then caught up in Jarrod's grand plan to return to his hometown and fight the boy who used to bully him in high school. In Jarrod's hometown, though, Lily begins to see Jarrod as more self-involved and immature, which culminated in his breaking up with her. However, she also sees that much of it stems from a bizarre home life where his deceased elder brother has cast a long shadow over the entire clan. Lily ultimately finds herself stuck in Jarrod's remote, rural town, biding her time for several days before Jarrod's scheduled fight.

This movie is a nearly perfect blend of Wes Anderson's sweeter films, a few dashes of Napoleon Dynamite, and Waititi's innate, quirky New Zealand sensibilities. The main characters Lily and Jarrod are painfully awkward in most circumstances, though Jarrod in particular is possessed of a wildly misplaced self-confidence and arrogance sometimes found among nerddom. Despite their trouble in most social situations, the two find just enough common ground to let each other into their lives, at least to a certain extent. While the tone is certainly off-beat, there is a certain level of authentic heart to the proceedings - something which Waititi would more masterfully use in his later films. In Eagle vs. Shark, these elements may not be as finely tuned, but they are still highly effective. This is all balanced well with a steady dose of oddball humor - from Lily's uncomfortable interactions with her snooty fast-food coworkers to Jarrod's "kung fu" training in preparation for his revenge fight, plenty of the scenes would be right at home among the best things you've seen in Rushmore and the like.

Not that I needed any more encouragement, but this film only solidified Waititi's place in my mind as a modern director whose films I now eagerly anticipate. And as much as I loved Ragnarok, I would actually prefer that he go back to smaller-scale, more personal flicks such as Eagle vs. Shark. This is clearly where he has made and can continue to make more meaningful, unique, and touching movies.

New Release! mother! (2017)

No spoilers. Rest easy.

One of the official movie posters, which
more than hints at the visceral scenes
which you can expect in the picture.

Director: Darren Aronofsky

This movie is one trippy, nightmarish horror show of unrelenting tension. And I was fascinated.

The movie follows a young woman (Jennifer Lawrence) who is married to a middle-aged poet (Javier Bardem) who is struggling with writer's block. The woman (her name is never given, but referred to as "Mother" in the credits) leaves her husband (name also never given, credited as "Him") to seek inspiration in solitude, while she meticulously repairs and refurbishes their entire house, which is a grand old country home that apparently suffered some sort of damage in the past. A visitor arrives (Ed Harris), and he very quickly imposes on the couple. While Mother is none too pleased with the unexpected guest's intrusion, Him seems oddly welcoming to this stranger. Soon, the stranger's obnoxious wife (Michelle Pfeiffer) arrives, adding Mother's concerns. After this point, the situation steadily spirals out of control for Mother over the course of time. The entire home eventually becomes a whirlwind of bizarre and aggressive behaviors which Mother tries to reckon with.

Darren Aronofsky, who wrote and directed the movie, has shown in past films that he is more than willing to offer commentary on grand themes, while using hallucinogenic visuals to convey discomfort. He did this in his first two features, Pi and Requiem for a Dream, which dealt with paranoia and addiction, respectively. mother! does an equally commendable job building a sense of claustrophobia at the hands of encroaching guests and ever-multiplying hordes of unwanted visitors. When you add in the hallucinogenic, sometimes surrealist visions which Mother experiences, the movie certainly creates a mood. It's not likely to be a mood which pleases you, but I have to think that Aronofsky's point was to make us squirm more than a little. Mission accomplished.

Lest you think that the movie is simply about freaking out us viewers, rest assured that there is far more to it than that. Aronofsky has never been one to shy away from swinging for the fences in terms of grand themes, and mother! is no exception. It becomes clear fairly early on that we are not meant to see the characters on screen as "real" people, but rather archetypes. The character names in the credits certainly confirm this, giving credence to the idea that we are watching an allegory for several notions, some much more obvious than others. Such relatively abstract forms of film are likely to annoy or frustrate many viewers, but I found them mostly fascinating.

If you have seen the cast list, you will probably not be surprised that the acting is outstanding. Curiously, as purely cinematic as much of this movie is, there are certain elements that put me in mind of a stage play. This is something that can require a certain extra grandiosity in actors' performances, and will rarely work in films. In mother!, however, it actually works, given the allegorical nature of the tale. Enhancing the performances are the framing, camerawork, and set designs, which certainly create a memorable setting and sense of ever-increasing chaos.

One of several scenes which depict how Mother is (or at least
feels) completely out of place and sync with everything and
everyone around her, including her husband.

If one has looked at reviews for this movie, you'll notice very mixed reactions (something Aronofsky movies have inspired in the past). I think that this is for a couple of reasons. If one is able to see this movie as a piece of art, not unlike bizarre or even grotesque works by masters like Picasso or Gustave Dore, then one is likely to appreciate much of what it has to offer. If, on the other hand, one is expecting a traditional horror tale or human drama, then one is likely to be disappointed at the least and outright offended at worst. So it helps to know what you're in for here.

This is one of those movies that I can't say that I "enjoyed" but that certainly held my interest and which I found to be a quality piece of art. Some of the social commentary can come off a bit obvious or heavy-handed here and there, but I was always curious about what the next scene would bring. At times, I found it was actually predictable, but there were enough surprises and oddly vague suggestions that I remained engaged for the film's full two hours. I may never watch it again, but I was glad to catch it on the big screen. 

Retro Duo: Excalibur (1981); The Fountain (2006)

Excalibur (1981)

Director: John Boorman

This was probably the third or fourth time I've seen this movie over the last 20-odd years. The over-the-top nature of it just gets more and more obvious, though it is still arguably the best film version of the Arthurian legend out there.

Drawing mostly from Sir Thomas Malory's 15th century novel Le Morte d'Arthur, the film is an abbreviated and lavish telling of how Arthur Pendragon came into being, obtained the mythical sword Excalibur to become King of England, and oversaw the unification and defense of the country in the late 5th and early 6th centuries. The movie goes all-in with the melodrama, with nary a character speaking in anything less than florid epigrams or acting in any way less than the grandest of gestures. When one takes half a step back from it all, it can come off as rather silly, pompous, and pretentious. If, however, one gets wrapped up in the movie, it can, much of the time, actually be as grand as it attempts. This is in no small part due to the fact that we are dealing with one of the oldest, best-known myths of Western civilization.

The story is the foundation of so much high fantasy. A savior figure is born of blood and sorcery, eventually obtains a magic sword, and forges and era whose name will ring through the centuries. To tell such a story in film, a director needs to swing for the fences, and John Boorman did just that. He brought in a ton of great British and Irish acting talent, including then up-an-coming young actors like Gabriel Byrne, Patrick Stewart, Liam Niesen, and Helen Mirren, to name just a few. The actors were well-schooled in larger-than-life performances, which fit a film such as Excalibur to a tee. Again, some of it is campy, both intentionally and accidentally, but it's still quite fun. The stand out is Nicol Williamson, whose bombastic, vibrato delivery of his lines as the legendary sorcerer Merlin shows the correct level of ridiculous joy in the role.

One's take on the visuals will depend on how well they can suspend disbelief and look past the limitations of the effects. Certainly, compared to what had been and would eventually be done with advanced makeup, computer effects, and much larger budgets, this 1981 movie will seem cut-rate. But Excalibur has a look that is very much a cohesive representation of what Boorman wanted to do, and it can be very effective much of the time. Through vivid lighting, highly burnished armor, and some trippy visual distortions, many sections of the movie feel just as dreamlike and hallucinatory as a 1,500-year-old myth should feel.

The movie does, admittedly, take some patience and a certain mental state to enjoy. Some scenes can drag, and it does rely on a certain familiarity with the legend of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. If one has those things, though, then this 35-year-old flick will hold up nicely for you. From what I've read of Guy Ritchie's most recent crack at the Arthurian legend, you may be in the mood for a more successful cinematic take on the entire affair.

The Fountain (2006)

Director: Darren Aronofsky

One of my absolute favorite movies, despite being its noted director's least-known film.

Darren Aronofsky, known best for his award-winning movies The Wrestler and Black Swan, as well as his controversial adaptation in Noah, was an immediate critical darling with his first two films, the dark, intelligent, and edgy Pi and Requiem for a Dream. Following that second film, he took several years to create The Fountain, easily his most ambitious movie to that point. He was initially given a sizable budget to bring his impressive vision to life, and mega-stars Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett were lined up to star in the picture. However, after several unexpected changes, Aronofsky was left to make alterations that led to using Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz in the main roles, and the film having to be made on half of its original budget. The film met very mixed reviews and did poorly at the box office.

I did not see the movie until a couple of years after its lackluster performance in theaters. When I did, though, I was completely blown away. Knowing nothing about the movie, I took in this visually stunning narrative puzzle that did not offer clear, direct answers. The images were mesmerizing, and the acting was so affecting that the movie stayed on my mind for days afterward, as my brain tried to put all of the pieces into place. While I couldn't completely penetrate all of the components of the movie and how they fit together, I was incredibly moved by the themes which I could pick up on, and their conveyance through the impressive and iconic images.

Because I feel that part of one's enjoyment of this movie is in seeing it and allowing it to reveal itself to the viewer, I won't give a complete synopsis but rather a basic description, even though the movie is now over a decade old. It tells three stories in three different time periods: one is of a Spanish conquistador on a desperate mission from his queen, another is of a modern neuroscientist seeking to find a cure for brain tumors, and the final is of a mysterious traveler, moving through space in a glass bubble housing himself and a tree. Explaining much more than that would rob any new viewers of the potential joy of working out the film's connections for themselves.

This recent viewing was my fourth, and each viewing increases my enthusiasm for the film. Across his six feature films, Darren Aronofksy has shown himself to be an exceptionally thoughtful filmmaker who pays extremely close attention to detail. He clearly takes pride in creating tight, carefully-crafted pictures in which little to nothing is out of place, either narratively or visually. This can be seen in his other movies, from his debut Pi to his most recent, Noah. But perhaps in no other film was his dedication to symmetry and cohesion brought to fruition the way that it was in The Fountain. This is why I have enjoyed it so many times. Even after I had worked out the non-linear and less-than-obvious narrative, I was able to drink in the stunning visual imagery running through the entire movie. Between the lighting, sets, costumes, and overall cinematography, many of the scenes and sequences are, by themselves, works of visual art which could be studied in isolation. Movies such as this, which continue to offer engagement viewing after viewing, are rare for me.

Stunning images like this one will likely amaze and baffle
upon one's first viewing. Once it is put into the greater context,
though, its meaning takes on even greater value.

I'm also a sucker for a soundtrack with mournful string instruments, especially when it sets the mood for a romance. And this story is a romance of considerable quality. Amazingly, I am no particular fan of romances, but The Fountain balances what could have been overly sentimental elements with an intelligent, creative narrative device that I find immensely engaging.

It's no great mystery to me why this movie never quite caught on with a wider audience. It hardly follows any standard Hollywood movie tropes: it asks more than a little from its viewers, it is a deeply emotional tale, and it's grand theme is not one that is likely to put a great pep in anyone's step, so to speak. This is, of course, why I love it so much. So much, in fact, that I have a difficult time imagining any point in my life when I won't be able to take several rewards from each future viewing. 

Noah (2014)

Director: Darren Aronofsky

Let me get two things right out of the way: (1) I really like this film. (2) I know that plenty of people will dislike and even hate it, for all sorts of reasons. I don't care. See (1).

I'm a tremendous fan of Darren Aronofsky. I like all of his films, to one degree or another. Topically, they all seem very different. Pi is about a mathematical genius; Requiem for a Dream is about various forms of addiction; The Fountain is a science-fiction/love story with deep romantic roots (pardon the pun, those who know the film); The Wrestler is about an aged WWF-style professional wrestler; and Black Swan is about an ambitious, perfectionist ballerina. And now Aronofsky turns his skills onto one of the oldest stories in human history - that of the great flood and the man chosen by a god to preserve life in its aftermath.

I think the movie does a splendid job of it.

We've already heard about the protests against the film. Of course, many of these are being staged by religious fanatics who are upset that the film does anything other than present a literal interpretation of the Old Testament story. These people are horribly misguided. What many of them don't know, or willingly choose to ignore, is that they have no monopoly on the flood myth. It's found in every ancient culture around the world, with one of the better known being that of Utnapishtim of Mesopotamian legend. The idea of one man feeling tasked to survive a divine cleansing of the world is far greater in scope than even the massive Jewish and Christian religions and their mythology can contain. Aronofsky's film seeks to be more inclusive by not restricting his version to Pentateuch canon.

The fellow surrounded by water here is a character that is at least as old as the Noah story - Utnapishtim, whose exploits are told in the Epic of Gilgamesh.

On top of shaking off the constricting details of the Old Testament story, Aronofsky decides to incorporate some ideas that have only been given clear definitions in more modern times. This sets up another element that some people will likely scoff and sneer at - the "vegetarian warrior" aspect of Noah and his family in the film. I admit that I'm still not completely sold on this part of the story, as it seems just a tiny bit forced. Still, it is woven extremely well into the logic of the movie. This version of the tale pits Noah and his family against the "evils of the rest of humanity," which are exhibited by brutal violence and an insatiable desire to possess and/or consume everything in their path. Obviously, this is a concept that is as old as humankind itself; it's just that Aronofsky's Noah includes the consumption of other creatures' flesh into mankind's catalog of evil as defined by senseless destruction.

Probably the final major complaint that people level against the movie is regarding the "rock monsters." If you haven't seen the movie and plan to, I won't ruin this for you by explaining the details. Just know that there are Lord of the Rings-like, craggy creatures featured through the first half of the movie. Before you roll your eyes and dismiss this notion, though, I will tell you that they are explained in an way that I found blends with the movie. Sure, they may have been added simply to mix in some fantastic, adventurous, family-friendly spice to the film, but they represent more than mere eye-catchers for the kids. And even though they figure heavily into some of the more epic action sequences, I hardly found them frivolous appendages to the plot. If one wants to think in terms of the actual story as relayed in the book of Genesis, they make a good deal of sense. And really, if a person wants to obsess over a "deviation from the source," go back and read Genesis. Wrestling angels and women turning into pillars of salt is completely plausible, but some hulking rock creatures aren't?

The twisted rock creatures known as "Watchers" seem to be a contentious addition to the film. 

I found that they added much to the story.

One thing I think most people can agree is excellent about the movie is the psychological and emotional weight that is carried throughout. Through the screenwriting and the strong acting, we do get a sense of how one man and his family's incomprehensibly massive burden is borne. Aronofsky blends in elements of several other Old Testament tales, such as Adam and Eve as well as Abraham and Isaac, which shows the coherence between these mythic prophets of Judeo-Christian belief. The gravitas has always been a large part of these characters, just as they have been with most characters who have endured for millennia. This movie is able to harness and express it in ways more palpable than any film representation that I know of.

And so, with this weighty theme of supreme religious devotion and sense of grand purpose, we come full circle. Just as with Aronofsky's other films, the protagonist is driven to obsession by a single purpose. Such characters often drive stories, and Noah is no different. Though not without some flaws, I think it's merits far outweigh them and make it a strong, thoughtful and intelligent cinematic tale.

I will likely see the movie again, sooner rather than later. I will be curious to see how it holds up to a second viewing. So far, the movie has stayed with me and I enjoy pondering it various elements and the way they were constructed. I recommend that everyone check it out and form their own opinion, for everyone surely should have an opinion on it. 

Film #44: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)

Director: Don Siegel

Initial Release Country: United States

Times Previous Seen: once (about 8 years ago)

Teaser Summary (no spoilers)

Doctor discovers growing fear of strange, replica impostors of the denizens of his all-American hometown.

Uncut Summary (Full plot synopsis, spoilers included. Fair warning)

In a Californian hospital in the mid-1950s, Doctor Miles Bennell (Kevin McCarthy) is raving and being restrained by the police. A psychiatrist arrives on the scene and calms Bennell down into semi-coherence. All he can muster, though, is that everyone is in danger of some kind of looming menace that has taken over his hometown of Santa Mira, California. Once further eased, Bennell traces his story back...

A few days prior, he had returned from a conference out of the state to his hometown. Santa Mira seems like the fully realized American dream town, as defined by widely shared post-World War II sentiments: white picket fences, a clean downtown area where the tallest buildings are a mere three stories, and a populace of genial folks, all of whom know and like each other. Upon his return, all seems to be normal to Dr. Bennell. Then, slightly odd things emerge:

While driving back to his office, he nearly runs down a local boy who is running from his grandmother, screaming that his mother is “not his mother.” When Bennell returns to his office, his nurse informs him that nearly all of the patients who had scheduled appointments earlier in the week had canceled, saying that they were now fine. In addition, a cousin of Bennell's former girlfriend, Becky Driscoll (Dana Wynter), claims that her uncle is no longer her uncle.

Becky Driscoll and Doctor Miles Bennell.

This final claim spurs Bennell to investigate. He goes to Becky's cousin's house where the young woman explains that, while her uncle looks the same and has all of the same memories, there is a strange lack of emotion and tenderness in his eyes that had always been there previously. Bennell feels that it is simply some kind of misunderstanding and assures Becky's cousin that it will surely pass.

That evening, Bennell begins to try and rekindle his past relationship with Becky. However, before he can make any real progress, he receives an urgent call from a friend and local writer, Jack Belicec and his wife, Teddy. Bennell goes to their house to find their shocking discovery laid out on their pool table: a lifeless, humanoid form that bears a close resemblance to Jack. No one is sure where the body came from, but they decide to leave it there, with the Belicecs keeping an eye on it, while Bennell takes Becky home.

Jack Belicec reveals his discovery of his own pod replica to Bennell and Becky.

At the Driscoll house, Dr. Bennell gets a disturbing feeling from Becky's father, whom he finds ascending from the basement below. He leaves, only to sneak into the basement and find another near-facsimile growing in their basement dumpster, this one resembling Becky. Bennell sneaks upstairs and rescues a slumbering Becky from the house.

Back at Bennell's house, the doctor calls the police and brings them to the Belicec's to see the “Jack” replica. The doppelganger, however, is now gone. Bennell then brings them to the Driscoll's to expose the “Becky” form, which is also gone. Just then, another police officer tells them that they have just found a burned body matching the description of the “Jack” form. The investigators chalk Bennell's notions up to delusions, and the doctor is sent home.

The next day, things start to become eerily normal again. The young boy and Becky's cousin, both of whom had claimed close relatives to no longer be themselves, now have no problems and claim that everything is fine. That night, while preparing a barbecue with the Belicecs, Bennell makes a harrowing discovery in his greenhouse: four bizarre, large plant pods. As he watches, they hatch and spill out steadily growing human shapes, each one taking on the structure of the four people present. They try to call the police, but the operator tells them that all lines both within and outside of the city, are busy. Bennell gives up and decides to leave the house with Becky, but not before destroying the pod bodies. The Belicecs decide to try and escape town on their own, leaving Bennell and Becky to do the same.

In traveling through the town, the two quickly discover that essentially all of their friends and neighbors have been transformed into pod people. Not only that, but they are trying to do the same to Bennell and Becky. The two see no immediate way out of town, and pursued by the police, escape into Bennell's office in town. Here, with some time to think, they decide that he pods take over a person's identity when the person sleeps. With this in mind, they dose up on amphetamines and decide to wait until morning.

After the sun rises the following day, Becky and Bennell see the greatest horror thus far. In the middle of town, hundreds of the people of Santa Mira, now clearly pod people, gather thousands of new pods to disperse to outlying towns and neighborhoods. The goal is clear: eventually turn every living human into a pod creature. Jack Belicec then shows up at the office with a few police, though we quickly learn that they are now, too, pod people, and the full, horrifying story is told. A few weeks prior, a few pods had rained down from space and landed near Santa Mira. The plants are parasites that can mimic any living form and take over their identities by absorbing their minds when they sleep. The new person seems to be a perfect copy, physically and mentally. The one thing missing, though, is emotion. The pod people who explain all of this to the doctor and Becky implore them to give up, ensuring them that emotions such as love are more of a hindrance than a help. The two refuse to listen and fight their way out of the clutches of their near-captors.

Becky and Miles flee from the now completely replicated townspeople of Santa Mira.

Now alone and completely on the run, Becky and Bennell frantically flee from the entire town of Santa Mira. They hide briefly in a cave, throwing the townspeople off of their trail for a few hours. Bennell eventually leaves Becky in the cave to investigate the outside, but the exhausted woman can no longer stay awake on her own. Bennell returns to her to discover that she too is now a pod person. He runs for the highway and just manages to beat the chasing townspeople.

Flash forward to the hospital. Doctor Bennell's story has failed to convince anyone of any more than that he is suffering from an intense hallucination. That is, until they receive a call from the local police detailing a traffic accident that has just sent a large truck spilling out the contents of its bed: hundreds of strange, pod-like structures. Hearing this convinces everyone in Bennell's presence of the veracity of his story, and they rush out to combat the menace. The viewers can only assume that they will emerge victorious.

Take that, you green, replicating pieces of space trash!

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (Done after this most recent viewing, before any research)

Pretty average.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers has a mildly interesting plot with some thought-provoking psychological suggestions, but ones that have been plumbed far deeper and more skillfully by many a talented science fiction writer (see anything by Philip K. Dick, for instance). The acting is adequate, but certainly nothing special. The direction and cinematography are solid, but far from revolutionary.

So why is this movie considered such a seminal one in science fiction films?

I'm sure that my further research will reveal or confirm some of my suspicions about the answer to this question, but there are several easy speculations to make:

One is that it may have been one of the first sci-fi movies to strike at deep, universal psychological fears. The clearest one is the ever-present question about human emotion. Is love truly such an enviable feeling? When one considers the pain and suffering that it can cause when lost, how many of us would really clutch so tightly to it? This is the question that the pod people pose to Bennell and Becky towards the end of the movie. Their response is the typically humanistic one – an outright refusal to exchange ostensible peace for their ability to retain their emotions. Still, while this is a curious thought experiment, its one that probably requires a more austere setting than a “vegetable aliens crash land and take over” context to ponder with any true gravity.

Here's the link to a youtube clip that gives a good sense of when things get cranked up: the all-American barbecue with friends so rudely interrupted by usurping space plants. (Sorry for the lack of an embedded clip)

The more obvious explanation for the endurance of this movie is the time in which it was made. Of course, 1956 was when the Red Scare of communism was roughly at its height. Though the ideal of a “perfect America”, as envisioned by Anglo-Americans, had crystallized and been informing popular entertainment (a la Leave it To Beaver, The Andy Griffith Show and The Honeymooners), the perpetual threat was the notion of communism. And of course, detractors of communism claimed that it was a system in which people would become little more than machines, whose sole purpose was to subsist and procreate. Invasion of the Body Snatchers clearly latches onto this primal fear of Americans and runs with it. There's even a moment during the grand exposition in Bennell's office when the doctor asks, “So, we would all be the same?” to which the pod person responds, “Yes.” Pretty hard to miss that one.

While the concept of using science fiction as a vehicle to create symbolized versions of communism isn't unique (I'd be remiss if I didn't mention The Blob, filmed here in my home of Phoenixville, PA), I believe that Invasion may have been the first film to be so blatant about it. The science fiction veneer is so thin that I find the filmmakers' notions a bit ridiculous: that viewers would equate the blank-faced pod people spawned by extraterrestrial plants with the reality of communism. It borders on contempt for one's intelligence, perhaps no more so than during the finale, when a frantic doctor Bennell is running along the highway, screaming for help and madly attempting to explain his pursuers: he stares directly into the camera and yells, “You're next! You're next!!” It may as well have been Senator Joseph McCarthy himself doing it.

The final aspect of this movie that I feel may be seen as influential is the juxtaposition of the bizarre and terrifying with the exceptionally “normal.” By giving the viewer the town of Santa Mira, a carefully-constructed vision of the Utopian, 1950s American ideal, and injecting an all-consuming, hidden, alien threat, it relies on the time-tested formula of tapping into the terror of the familiar and comfortable becoming alien and deadly. It's something that has been notably used by the likes of David Lynch in Blue Velvet and the cult classic TV show, Twin Peaks. Invasion a of the Body Snatchers is the earliest piece of film work that I've seen that uses this combination, and I suspect that it may have influenced later filmmakers.

Whatever the reason is for this movies's status within the cinema world, I feel no need to watch it again. Science fiction to me, a person who really loves a good sci-fi tale, is all about ideas. The primary thrust of it all, from H.G. Wells' The Invisible Man, through Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep (a.k.a Blade Runner), to Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain, is the emotional and social impacts of humans' increasing grasp on universal knowledge and technology. These stories are, by nature, cautionary tales, but the best ones are not so heavy-handed with the warnings. Invasion of the Body Snatchers doesn't make much pretense about its political and social commentary, and its one that is rather outdated in my view. And while sometimes a science fiction film's other qualities can overcome an outmoded theme, Invasion doesn't quite hold up in 2010.

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

In reading a bit more, I realize that my first take may be a little bit harsh. Still, I stand by the general feeling that, while it's far from a bad movie, Invasion of the Body Snatchers is not one that I would rate nearly as well as other science fiction movies.

First of all was that this movie suffered that same, cruel fate of several others: the Hollywood studio demand for a more “up-beat” ending. The result was that, instead of the original intended ending of Doctor Bennell running maniacally down the highway, screaming “You're next!!”, we got the happier version in which the earth will be saved by people's zero-hour realization of the invasion. Hence, in the same fashion as films like Baby Face, The Lady Eve, and others, Invasion of the Body Snatchers just misses the chance to leave its audience a bit more ponderous for being left with a more fatalistic outcome.

The lingering question and area of debate over this movie is, to no one's surprise, the allegorical question. Was it meant to be a commentary on McCarthyism or not? While director Don Seigel and star Kevin McCarthy (nominal coincidence, anyone?) deny this, I remain skeptical. Some also argue that the story is meant to warn against the danger of general conformity, whether it be through communism or dogmatic political stances. This is likely the reason that it has been remade three times, most recently in 2007's The Invasion.

Whether the film's creators had any specific political agenda or not, it is clear that the engine that drives the movie is people's fear of losing their emotions and individuality. When this is taken into account, I have to give the movie a little more credit. When one does watch and think about it, there are clearly several frightening notions suggested by the ultimate goals of the pod people.

Here's another link to the iconic ending scenes. Once again, no ability to embed the clip into the link, unfortunately.

The only other factoid of interest that I dug up was a very curious cameo. During a very brief scene at Dr. Bennell's house, Bennell nervously discovers the local gas man in his basement, reading the meter. That young, thin, polite and mustachioed young man is none other than “Bloody” Sam Peckinpah, the visionary director who would make some of the most revolutionary and violent popular films in history, notably The Wild Bunch and Straw Dogs. “He wasn't an real conformist, but he did play one in a movie.”

That's a wrap. 44 shows down, 61 to go.

Coming Soon: The Searchers (1957)

Yeee-Haaaawww!!! We finally ring in the Western in one of the best possible ways. Our first (but far from last) Western features none other than the embodiment of that truly American film creation: Mr. Marion Morrison, better known as John Wayne.

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