New-ish Releases (no spoilers): Brawl in Cell Block 99 (2017); Ready Player One (2018)

*both reviews are spoiler-free - read away!! 

Brawl in Cell Block 99

Director: S. Craig Zahler

It speaks well for a movie when you put it on late at night, only intending to watch about 30 minutes of it, only to find yourself still up at nearly 2:00 AM, having been gripped for two full hours. Such was the case with Brawl in Cell Block 99.

Vince Vaughan plays against type here, as Bradley Thomas, a hard-working blue collar guy who has a run of some bad luck. He's already having some marital problems, and then he loses his job. He and his wife decide to regroup and try to have a baby, but in order to have the money, they also agree that Bradley will return to his old job of running drugs. When one particularly risky job goes very wrong, Bradley ends up in prison. On top of this, his now-pregnant wife is taken hostage and Bradley is told that the lives of his wife and unborn baby depend on his getting into a different, maximum security prison, and killing another inmate there, all at the behest of some supremely vicious gangsters.

This movie is gritty, brutal, and it uses the slow-burn approach to near-perfection. But where this approach is often used to describe the pacing and rhythm of the plot unfolding, in Brawl in Cell Block 99, it's more about the shift in tone and setting. The first 20 or so minutes of the movie take place in the middle of several bright, sunny days. But as things start to go south, actions take place more at night. Once Bradley is in prison, things continue to darken and constrict, until he is in virtual hell, with the visuals to match this descent every step of the way. The sense of Bradley being a man being slowly and horribly boxed in is palpable, thanks to strong performances and a cohesive visual style.

And the violence? Oh boy. What is only revealed in infrequent, relatively tame moments early in the picture devolve into full-on B-movie, grind-house gore by movie's end. Bradley is a supremely tough human being - a former boxer who knows how to handle himself, as well as keep his considerable anger in check. In an early scene, when he has very good reason to be enraged, he uses his bare hands to do a few thousand dollars' worth of damage to an innocent Dodge in his driveway. As situations grow more dire and intense around him, though, blood starts to spill and bones start to break. And the camera does not flinch in these moments. The final few sequences become an all-out, revenge fantasy gore-fest that would be much more disturbing if it weren't so completely over the top.

As brutal as it is, I was riveted by this movie. Vince Vaughan is actually quite good as this ultra-dark version of Cool Hand Luke. Sure, this southern accent slips a bit here and there, but he has Bradley's attitude down pat. And all the villains, who are pure evil, are played to perfection by faces both unknown and known, including Don Johnson and Udo Kier. Often, one-dimensional villains can be boring, but Zahler knows that they can work in a very straightforward, violent fantasy story such as this.

I now plan to go back and see some of Zahler's earlier work, especially Bone Tomahawk, which I'm told is arguably better and just as gory as Brawl in Cell Block 99. Fans who don't flinch from dark themes and violence that crescendos to cartoon-like levels by film's end should give this one a shot.

Ready Player One (2018)

Director: Steven Spielberg

Really disappointing. If it weren't drawing a few worthy elements from its source material, this would have even been a bad movie.

After recommendations from several fellow video game nerd friends, I finally read Ernest Cline's popular 2011 pop sci-fi novel Ready Player One. It's a fun read, despite not being particularly deep or intellectually engaging. Rather, it's a genuine love letter novel by a Generation X devotee to the popular video games, fantasy, and science-fiction entertainment that he grew up with in the 1980s. The premise is clever and intelligent enough to carry the heavily plot-driven story and make for a real page-turner. Though not a particularly fast reader, I plowed through the 370-page book in a few days, thanks to a compelling tale and the endless pop culture references. I know never to expect a movie adaptation to be as good as a decent novel, but this film fell woefully short of its potential.

The story takes place in the early 2040s, when the world is fully immersed in a decades-long degradation into the overpopulated, ever-more dystopian future that we in the 2010s are currently fearing. One of the few universally-shared pleasures of humanity in this future is the open-access virtual online world, The OASIS, which was created by a genius game designer in the 2030s and quickly became an escape for a stunning percentage of humanity. The designer, the reclusive James Halliday, left a tantalizing contest embedded within the OASIS upon his death in the late 2030s - an "Easter egg," or hidden prize - which will grant its finder complete ownership of the OASIS, which is worth hundreds of billions of dollars. One young egg hunter, or "gunter" as they're called, is Wade Watts, an 18-year old kid stuck in a particularly impoverished area in Ohio. Wade and a few fellow dedicated gunters begin to find a few of Halliday's well-hidden clues and beat some of his tremendously difficult challenges to get closer to The Egg. Unfortunately, The Egg is also being hotly pursued by the corporation IOI and its CEO, Nolan Sorrento. The ever-expanding and profit-oriented IOI wants to take over the OASIS and monetize every last scrap of it.

The film itself, in short, was too fast and way too much flash over substance. Let me be very clear here - I love video games. I think that Ernest Cline, who also helped co-write the adapted screenplay, along with Zak Penn, and I would have plenty of common interests to geek out over. It's part of the reason I enjoyed the novel. But the novel is paced very well, allowing the story to breathe a bit between the more thrilling segments. It allows the hunt for the keys and eggs to take on great significance, as Wade, the other gunters, and IOI's brain trust wrack their brains trying to puzzle out Halliday's riddles over the course of weeks and sometimes months. In the film, though, the keys and eggs are all found within a matter of a couple of days. There's barely enough time to see the importance of anything before you're being whipped around a bunch of hyper-kinetic, pure CGI landscapes crammed with dozens and sometimes hundreds of characters. Even the handful of "main" characters - Wade and four other top gunters - get almost no time to make much of an impression. We learn only so much about their backgrounds or motivations, and even these are glossed over so quickly that they have little to no time to inspire much sympathy. While Cline's novel isn't overly adept at creating deep and genuine characters, they were at least fleshed out enough that I cared about their relationships with each other a bit.

The CGI is about a s good as it gets, which only serves to
illustrate how even the best computer effects can't compensate
for a story that lacks proper rhythm and depth.

This is yet another in an ever-growing list of movies that I feel would have been better done as a multi-film series or a longer-form TV mini-series. I can only guess at why the movie studio didn't opt for this, despite having the rights to an immensely popular novel that geeks like me will gladly pay to see adapted well over multiple films, as well as Steven Spielberg's immense clout and vast financial resources. Maybe they were afraid to commit? Maybe Cline and his co-writer Zak Penn (whose stories I find to be much better than his scripts) thought they could effectively cram it all into one movie? Whatever the reason, the film suffers greatly for it, while it is very easy to imagine a 3-film trilogy or 8- to 10-episode TV series being able to tell Cline's story extremely well. I will concede that a few of Cline and Penn's ideas to streamline certain plot points work just fine, but these are vastly overwhelmed by the lack of the measured pace the tale demanded.

I was actually even more surprised that Steven Spielberg was in the director's chair for what I found to be a clumsy effort. Yes, the visuals are stunning, as you would expect from a director with his eye and cutting-edge visual film techniques at his command. But I expect far better story-telling from Spielberg. Even beyond how incredibly rushed everything is, there are so many hackneyed and cheesy elements that I was rolling my eyes and wincing by the third act.

This is ultimately a movie that I think is a missed opportunity. Many tantalizing ingredients were there, but the chefs rushed it and ended up with a dish that felt under-cooked and unsatisfying. 

New Release! The Post (2017)

Director: Steven Spielberg

Chalk up another one in Steven Spielberg's "feel good historical drama" category. Like his others, The Post is a fairly predictable (not just factually) story, told by a whole army of supermely reliable veterans who rarely take chances any more.

The movie takes a look at a major moment in modern U.S. history - the release of the Pentagon Papers in 1971 by whistleblower David Ellsberg, who worked very closely with U.S. intelligence agencies. While the story is fairly well known for those who were alive at the time, this film looks at it from the perspective of one of the newspapers who was among the first to publish some of the highly sensitive papers which Ellsberg had illegally spirited out of his offices at the Rand Corporation. The D.C. newspaper The Washington Post was at a major crossroads just as a small sampe of the Pentagon Papers were published by The New York Times. The owner of the paper, socialite Kay Graham, who had inherited it from her dead husband, is deciding what direction to take the paper in. As she positions the paper to become a publicly-traded commodity, she is confronted with the legally thorny issue of the Pentagon Papers, boxes of which have turned up in the hands of the Post's writers and editors. Her dilemma is two-fold: (1) Publish at the risk of bringing the wrath of a vengeful Richard Nixon or take the safe route so as not to scare off investors; and (2) Publish in the name of journalistic integrity or sit on the story so that Graham's many powerful government friends can keep their reputations a bit cleaner.

For my part, the most interesting aspects of the movie were the historical data that I hadn't already known. I already knew a bit about the Pentagon Papers story from the great 2009 documentary The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers. Seeing the story told again, with several added elements, was enlightening to a degree. And the general theme of the fourth estate, a free press, having the freedom to print anything truthful that might be in the public interest, is always a relevant topic, especially these days. And as one would imagine, the movie does everything with top-notch technical proficiency. Spielberg, Hanks, Streep, and the many other great actors in this film are simply too skilled and too professional to drop the ball anywhere. The pacing is brisk, the dialogue hums along, and narrative balls are juggled deftly.

Tom Hanks as Post Editor-in-Chief Ben Bradlee. Like the
characters he plays, Hanks never drops the ball. Knowing this
tends to suck most of the suspense out of movies in which
he stars these days.

All that said, I didn't feel that the movie was a standout in any particular way. Much of this has to do with the fact that, being a historical drama, anyone who knows a bit about the story knows what the outcome will be. This alone takes a fair bit of the air of suspense out of the balloon. When you add to that the mere casting of Tom Hanks, then you have a pretty good idea of exactly where this story is headed, right from the jump. My wife explained it well after we watched the movie when she described how when Hanks is in a movie, everything is going to be fine. That's his ultimate place in the cinema landscape. You need a damaged plane landed? Hanks will be your Sully. You need Somali pirates dealt with? Hanks is your Captain Phillips. You need a communist defector rescued from the clutches of the East Germans? Hanks will walk him right across that "bridge of spies" for you. His essential character in The Post is not really so different, being the man who serves as the defender of the free press and as the guiding light of morality and integrity through the movie. He's excellent at it, to be sure, but it's hardly a stretch for him at this point.

Anyone who's enjoyed Spielberg's recent historical dramas, Bridge of Spies, Lincoln, or Warhorse, is certain to enjoy this one, especially if they don't know much about the Pentagon Papers episode in U.S. history. But anyone looking to see the legendary director and the phenomenal cast stretch or challenge themselves in any way, you'll have to look elsewhere. 

Idiot Boxing: Preacher, season 1; Stranger Things, season 1

The first issue of the original comic.
Getting a hold of this one required a
combination of fanboy zeal and a fair
bit of saved up bartending money.

Preacher, season 1 (2016)

I simply cannot write a review of this show without explaining my history with Preacher.

Two decades ago, I discovered a comic book that grabbed me unlike any other that had ever grabbed my comic-drenched brain. After reading some raves about it in a few nerd mags, I picked up issue #10 of Preacher. To make a long story short, after I read it multiple times, I put all of my financial efforts and free time into finding and purchasing every back issue as quickly as possible, so fun and novel was the story written by Irish scribe Garth Ennis, and so skillfully drawn was the tale by English artist Steve Dillon. I continued my ardent following, even going so far as to write several fan letters to the comic (I actually got a few of them published in the back of the monthly issues, much to my geekish delight) and meet and greet Ennis and Dillon at a couple of comic book conventions. The comic actually became as big a cult pop sensation as any comic ever had. Ennis was likened to the Quentin Tarantino of comic writing, and the book was getting endorsements from '90s pop creators like Kevin Smith and others. Occasionally rumors would surface of a movie or TV adaptation, but it all seemed rather unlikely, as the comic was so wildly violent and irreverent towards Christianity (and nearly everything else held dear by "civilized" folks).

Flash forward to 2015, when I discovered that AMC, the channel behind monster hit TV shows Breaking Bad, The Walking Dead, and others, had optioned the story for adaptation to be aired in 2016. I couldn't suppress a smile, as I felt that time and environment might actually be ripe enough for a proper cinematic telling of the insanely entertaining story that Ennis and Dillon gave us in comic form. In anticipation, I went back and re-read the entire comic series, and while it doesn't have quite the same magic as back when I discovered it, it is still a fun, original, and crazy tale. But how, exactly, would such a bonkers story translate to TV?

For those unfamiliar, the story follows Jesse Custer, a Christian reverend in the fictional small west Texas town of Annville. Jesse is a tortured soul who struggles with trying to be a classic "good guy" in the mold of hero cowboys popularized in U.S. narrative mythology (he reveres the types of characters that John Wayne played in his best movies) but also be a good and loving Christian. While he is in a position of religious authority, he has a very dark and wild past, and these two parts of his life seem to be in constant battle with one another. One day, while at his parish in Annville, he is violently possessed by some sort of supernatural entity which grants him the power to compel others to do whatever he tells them. Added into this strange mix is an Irish vampire, Cassidy, and Jesse's wild ex-girlfriend Tulip. All three are swept up in bizarre forces with a serious interest in the power that Jesse now wields.

My history with Preacher makes it impossible to see it with fresh eyes, in any form. I realized this going in, but I could not have anticipated just how liberally the show writers would be with their re-arrangement of many of the elements of the story. The result is something that, to the uninitiated, will be a bizarre and rollicking TV show with very much its own style.

Jesse and Cassidy, having a cold one. Cooper and Gilgun are
great in their roles, though there are a few odd turns in their
actions which are not always coherent.

But therein lies the problem. Style. I found that, in the TV adaptation of Preacher, style overwhelmed more important elements of good stories, be they in a written, aural, or visual medium. The creators certainly had a good sense of how to cut striking images and craft some very memorable scenes and sequences. The problem is that I often felt that there was a lack of cohesion, both within individual characters and between their various actions, interactions, and reactions to each other. In early episodes, Jesse makes odd shifts from being a man wracked with doubts to being a classic southern badass, with often little to no indication of what triggers the change. Nearly every other character suffers from similar lack of integrity. Tulip lets Cassidy have sex with her for no apparent reason. Cassidy shows a flash of remorse for reasons completely unclear. Emily, the upstanding soccer mom and parish assistant, literally feeds her part-time lover and town mayor to Cassidy from out of nowhere. I certainly don't mind stories where wild and unpredictable actions take place, but there has to be some consistency to the characters themselves. Otherwise, it is very difficult to feel invested in them, as they become shoddy constructs with whom we cannot identify.

This slightly schizo feel aside, I generally liked the show, thanks in no small part to the acting. The casting and performances are as good as I could have hoped. Dominic Cooper does Jesse's character a ton of justice, and Joseph Gilgun makes an incredible Cassidy. While I'm still not completely sold on what they are doing with the Tulip character, Ruth Negga nails every line and scene with the power and toughness that the role demands. Even many of the secondary roles are played to great effect, most notably Jackie Earle Haley as the despicably twisted Odin Quincannon. And even beyond the characters, there are some hilariously clever sequences during the season. One of my favorites involved a chainsaw, a dismembered arm, and a really odd fight in the middle of Jesse's church.

The show does set a rather insane tone, which makes it easier to accept some crazy, inexplicable things. It is for this reason that I'll be giving season 2 a shot. The way the first season ended, the primary characters are forced to hit the road, which should bring up plenty of other opportunities for bizarre, episodic happenings. It seems fairly clear that the show runners have a long-term plan in order, not unlike other AMC hit show Breaking Bad, and I saw enough to bring me back for the start of the sophomore season.

This group of kids was great, to a person. They would have
fit right into Spielberg's best PG flicks from the '80s. 

Stranger Things, season 1 (2016)

I'm generally not a fan of shows that use nostalgia as a device, but Stranger Things is a major exception in my eyes. The show was a wonderfully entertaining trip back to late-'70s and early-'80s science-fiction and horror films.

Using some of the best horror and fantasy movies as inspiration for tone, Stranger Things follows a group of young children as they deal with a friend mysteriously disappearing. The friends, along with a handful of concerned but scattered local adults, slowly uncover increasingly bizarre elements to the disappearance, including its seeming connection to a nearby power company. Saying much more will spoil the fun of the story's primary revelations, so most of it is best left untold. Suffice it to say that, while the plot elements are not completely novel, the form they take and the combination and mixture of them together is extremely satisfying.

A big part of the show's feel is connected to its time - the early 1980s. The directors, the Duffer brothers, quite clearly wanted to offer the look and feel of the mot classic TV shows and movies from that same era from directors like John Carpenter and, much more obviously, Steven Spielberg. If the creepy tone and horror elements come from Carpenter, then nearly everything else is inspired by Spielberg, most notably his films E.T. and The Goonies. The focus on a group of misfit, pre-pubescents is right in line with the most successful PG-13 blockbusters of that day, and everything from the clothing and dialogue right down to the set designs and props would be right at home in an episode of Amazing Stories.

Lest you think that nostalgia is the main thing going for this show, rest assured that it is not. The pace and flow of the tale is masterfully unfolded, the acting is excellent, and there is an expert balance between terror, tension, humor, and adventure. I have to believe that this is a difficult mixture to get right, even when working from preexisting materials, but the Duffers pulled it off.

The only minor gripe I have is that the show did leave a few not-so-small questions unanswered, clearly setting up a second season. This is fine, I suppose, but I would have appreciated a more self-contained story told within a single season, something that is a rarity these days. But this hardly kills what was otherwise a really fun show. I'll be eagerly anticipating the next season. 

New(ish) Releases!! Brooklyn, The Big Short, and Bridge of Spies

Brooklyn (2015)

Director: John Crowley

A great example of a simple tale told exceptionally well.

Brooklyn is the story of Eilis (pronounced "Ay-lish", and played by Saoirse Ronan), a young woman in Ireland who emigrates to Brooklyn, New York in the 1950s. Though very smart and attractive, Eilis goes through most of the typical stages of culture shock and homesickness. She eventually settles into her job and begins a romance with a charming young local man of Italian heritage. Just as she decides to fully commit to him, though, she is pulled back to Ireland by an unexpected tragedy. She is then torn between choosing between her old life in Ireland and her new one in New York.

There is nothing terribly complex about the plot in Brooklyn. Rather, its complexity lies in the emotions at play when someone must make a very difficult, life-altering decision. Eilis's is not a tale of epic, world-changing choices or even wide-sweeping tragedy. Instead, it is about more common life decisions which greatly affect the person who makes them and the people closest to them, when either option will cause severe pain to several people involved. In Brooklyn, the different options are set across the Atlantic from each other, but the vastness of the emotional differences is what gives the movie its dramatic power.

Brooklyn looks amazing. So amazing, in fact, that it is quite obvious that it is a work of fiction. The actors' good looks and the high sheen on every prop and set offers us viewers enough separation to realize that we are not watching a documentary or even a film memoir. This might be a weakness in other films, but in Brooklyn it works since the tale and the acting are organic and masterfully performed. In a way, it actually enhances the struggle and sadness Eilis deals with, given that it is happening in an otherwise supernaturally beautiful place.

I don't know that I will ever need to see Brooklyn again, unless I wish to drink in the aesthetic once more. It was, however, an excellent movie and well worth seeing.

The Big Short (2015)

Director: Adam McKay

Who knew that learning about big finance and a massive recession could be so entertaining?

With a dazzling combination of strong narrative, steady pacing, daring creativity, and phenomenal acting, director Adam McKay crafted Michael Lewis's source book into an educative and often surprisingly fun ride. The movie follows a few groups of individuals who were among the small handful to accurately predict the impending housing market crash in 2008. Leading us through the complicated tale is the fourth-wall battering ram narrator Jared Vennett (Ryan Gosling), a smug financier who takes several breaks from his attempts to get filthy rich betting against the housing market in order to teach us viewers about exactly how things went so horribly wrong. It's a great device that spices up what could otherwise be some rather dull details about the minutiae of high finance. One could rightly argue that it is a narrative crutch, but it is an entertaining one.

The characters central to the story are portrayed as varied bands of oddballs, crusaders, noble aspirants to wealth, or some combinations of those three. The film versions of Michael Burry, the awkward mathematical genius and medical doctor-turned financier, and Mark Baum, a righteously furious financier with a serious grudge against corrupt bankers, are magnetic. The performances of Christian Bale and Steve Carell, respectively, bring them to life in hilarious and fascinating ways to the point that I found myself itching for the next scene with them. While those two stand out, the many players around them all nail their roles to a tee.

The unraveling of the causes behind the greatest economic crash in modern history makes for a fascinating and upsetting education. The Big Short, despite its steady humor, lets us all in on the rampant greed, irresponsibility, and grand-scale corruption that essentially allowed a relatively small group of wealthy bankers and financiers to bilk millions of people out of nearly a trillion dollars. It has a very similar feel to Martin Scorsese's The Wolf of Wall Street, though focused on the entire odious panorama of banking thievery rather than a single avaricious crook and his Biblical hedonism.

I would gladly watch this movie again, if not to try and pick up some of the economic and financial explanations more clearly, then to simply re-watch the great performances and galloping narrative. I don't know that this movie will win the Best Picture Oscar for which it is nominated, but it is definitely in that top tier of candidates.

Bridge of Spies (2015)

Director: Steven Spielberg

Flawless technique. Crisp narration. Strong acting. Fairly predictable story arc. In other words, a Steven Spielberg film.

Bridge of Spies's greatest strengths lie in its source material and in its actors' and director's technical abilities in terms of storytelling in film. At this point in their careers, guys like Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg simply do not drop the ball. Ever. This is not to say that everything they do is fantastic. In fact, I find very little creativity in anything they do. However, they are also masters of professionalism and the technical aspects of film. Their movies always look great, feature clear narratives, and allow top-flight actors to play their roles extremely well. Bridge of Spies is no exception. Sets and costumes look great. The lighting, cinematography, and editing are above reproach. Lines are delivered in appropriate tones and with expert timing. None of this should surprise anyone who has seen more than a few Spielberg's many films. The only criticism that one can level at Spielberg is that he really never takes any artistic chances. By now, though, we know that, as great a director as he is, the man is simply not an auteur.

The story itself is certainly an interesting slice of real history. Hanks plays James Donovan, a brilliant insurance lawyer in the 1950s who is tapped by the U.S government to be legal counsel to Rudolf Abel (Mark Rylance). Abel is accused of spying for the U.S.S.R., and the U.S. government wants to ensure that Abel is shown to be given competent legal advice, so as to avoid any public accusations of mistreatment or lack of due process. The case was one of many such ostentatious political maneuvers during the height of the Cold War between the U.S. and the Soviet Union. Donovan does an exceptional job, even managing to help Abel avoid what would have almost certainly been the death penalty. Three years later, Donovan is again recruited to negotiate a prisoner exchange, whereby the U.S. will exchange Abel for a captured U.S. pilot and a captured college student. Donovan must achieve all of this under very shady and uncertain circumstances in a chaotic East Berlin, where the infamous Berlin Wall has just been completed.

The summary itself should spark a fair amount of interest, and the tale is unfolded as well as one would expect from this group of film-making talents. I must say though, as is typical for most of Spielberg's movies, the ultimate outcome was never really in question (and no, I hadn't read anything about this case before seeing the movie). Thankfully, some of the details and the paths which the story takes are a bit surprising, but the ultimate destination held nothing remarkably thoughtful. Of course, this can be due to the limitations of telling a historical tale. This doesn't make it any more exciting, though.

I personally put this movie in that second tier of this year's Best Picture nominees: "Very good, but not winning material". It's a very well-done movie which will probably have no lasting impact on the landscape of cinematic history. 

Film #94: Schindler's List (1993)

Director: Steven Spielberg

Initial Release Country: United States

Times Previously Seen: twice (last time about twelve years ago)

Rapid-Fire Summary

For a complete plot synopsis, check here at imdb’s website.

In 1940, the Nazi machine is taking hold in Poland. They are starting to herd all Jews together and force them into ghettos. Amidst these massive and horrific changes, the Czech-German businessman Oskar Schindler (Liam Neeson) arrives in Krakow with dollar signs in his eyes. Through clever business machinations and a flare for panache, Schindler quickly ingratiates himself to Nazi high commanders, secures a factory and a Jewish prisoner labor force for himself.

Over the next few years, business is good for Oskar Schindler. His factory produces quality pots and other metal goods, and his chief accountant, the Jewish Itzhak Stern (Ben Kingsly) sees that the factory runs smoothly and profitably. IN the early going, the only seeming bump in the road is the assignment of Nazi officer Amon Goeth (Ralph Fiennes) as the commander of the labor camp in Krakow. Goeth is an unpredictable and homicidal maniac who kills Jews without rhyme or reason. Schindler, however, manages to become civil, if not friendly, with the treacherous killer, in the name of keeping the money flowing in.

Oskar Schindler - in the middle of one of his many negotiations. These eventually evolve from purely self interested to completely altruistic.

Gradually, Schindler begins to have a change of heart, though a somewhat quiet and slow-building one. Upon seeing the murderous brutality of the Nazis against the Jews, Schindler, on the gentle but unwavering urging of Stern, begins to bring more Jewish laborers into his factory. He tells everyone that it is simply to maintain efficiency, but those who are closest to him can see that his sympathies for the Jews are growing. Schindler even tries, unsuccessfully, to change the brutal nature of Goeth. This failure aside, he continues to take Jewish prisoners into his factory to save them from the horrors of working in the labor camp every day.

As the War enters its final year, things become more desperate. Word comes down that Hitler has ordered the complete extermination of Jews – the so-called “Solution.” In the face of this, Oskar Schindler takes all of his massive profits, and even convinces a few other businessmen to do the same, and purchases over a thousand Jewish laborers. He assures Goeth that it is merely for convenience, as these laborers and their children are known commodities. The deal is made, and Schindler even ensures their safe transport to Czechoslovakia after his Jewish workers are mistakenly sent to Auschwitz and nearly killed, along with thousands of their fellow Jews.

At the official surrender of the Nazis to the Allied forces, Schindler addresses the hundreds of people that he has saved. The following day, as an ultimate irony and sacrifice, he must flee punishment for the crime of war profiteering.

When the war ends with the unconditional surrender of the Axis powers, the Jews are free, but Oskar Schindler is now, officially, a war criminal for profiteering. With the blessing of the thousand that he helped save, Schindler and his wife flee into the night.

My Take on the Film (done after this most recent viewing)

This was the third time that I’ve seen this movie, and my feelings haven’t changed – it’s a very good film in many ways, but there are a few things that irk me.

Schindler’s List is definitely one of the boldest of Spielberg’s films. The movie portrays the stark and horrific actions of the Nazi regime against the Jews in a way that I had never seen before. It goes far beyond mere sensational, almost action/suspense route that could have been taken. Seeing silent, morose masses of Krakow’s Jewish citizens, lined up to be classified and segregated by the conquering Germans has much more authentic emotional power. This is one of many subtle details that the movie exhibits in order to convey the crushing reality of the Holocaust.

As always, Spielberg is a master of the technical aspects of film. The man has always known how to tell stories through the moving picture, and Schindler’s List is no exception. From the opening scenes of Oskar Schindler schmoozing his way into the good graces of the Nazi commanders, to and through Goeth’s failed attempt at becoming a forgiving overlord, the movie balances dialogue and visuals to tell the tale as well as anything Spielberg has ever done.

The maniacal Goeth and the savior Schindler, during one of their many talks. The two are dark-and-light reflections of one another. This scene displays how effectively Spielberg used the black and white medium. No one can say that the man doesn't know what he's doing with a camera.

Unfortunately, as important as these things are, and as well as the movie does them, there are several gripes that I have. One is that I have always found a certain flatness to the main characters. Oskar Schindler’s soul goes through a massive transformation, and yet we are left with virtually nothing to explain why this might have occurred. Aside from a few ponderous gazers at the horrors around him, we are left in the dark as to why, exactly, this self-absorbed capitalist would abandon his fortune to save a group of people whom he has only seen as a means to his financial ends. There are moments when we get hints, but I’ve always felt a little cheated when it comes to this aspect of the film. There is also an enigmatic quality to Goeth. The character never feels completely real to me – almost more of a monster construct than a person who actually could have existed.

The idea of constructs is another problem I have with the film. Far too many times, I felt as if I could see Steven Spielberg’s hand prints on the movie, and not in a good way. He was clearly trying to present a “realistic” look at the terrors of the Holocaust, and in some notable ways, he succeeded. However, there are a few too many scenes and moments that feel very contrived to me. One is the “secretary” scene, when the libidinous Schindler is “interviewing” potential secretaries by watching them type. This sequence, with no dialogue, is a very wink-wink, nudge-nudge, humorous moment in the movie. In other words, it seems way out of place. There are several others, but none so egregious as the final scene in which Schindler is walking towards his car, about to leave behind all of the people he has saved. In a scene that seemed straight out of a hackneyed melodrama from the 1940s, the hundreds of Jews quietly stand around him as he slowly starts to cry and despair over how many more lives he could have saved, had he not been so selfish. On paper, it seems to make for a great scene. On film though, to me, it seems rather artificial.

The final scene, in which Spielberg and Neeson overplay their emotional hands (in my opinion). The melodrama becomes thick to the point that it does a disservice to the reality upon which the film is based.

Related to this is something that has been a bugaboo in virtually every Spielberg film – shying away from truly, completely shocking the audience, even when it may be appropriate. The particular scene I have in mind is towards the end of the movie, when Schindler’s Jews have all been mistakenly taken to Auschwitz. The women are all stripped naked and forced into a large warehouse, which they and we the audience all presume to be a gas chamber in which they will all be killed. Just at the height of our fears, water rather than gas rains down from the shower heads, merely cleaning the terrorized women. I don’t know whether this event actually occurred, but it struck me as strange that the director, who has already shown us multiple brutal murders in the movie, would shy away from presenting perhaps the most disturbing crimes perpetrated during those years – the mass executions of helpless innocents. I’m not saying that I would have enjoyed seeing such a thing, but this film is clearly not about enjoying what you are seeing. It is about witnessing the atrocities committed against the Jews, and it only seems right to witness the greatest of those atrocities.

Schindler’s List is one of those films on historical tragedy that merely makes me want to learn more about the actual story, not unlike The Last King of Scotland or Hotel Rwanda. In fact, the scene that has by far the most impact on me, and the only one during which I cry, is at the very end, when the credits start to roll. We shift to 1993, when the film was released, and we watch the surviving “Schindler’s Jews” and some of their descendants process towards the real Schindler’s grave and place flowers along it. This is when the reality of the story hits me, and this is when I feel a real sense of loss.

I ultimately think of Schindler’s List as a “near miss.” It tells an important story, and it does many things well. However, I feel that, had the few “Hollywood” moments been eliminated and had Spielberg gone more minimalist in a few of his techniques, the movie would have had even more power.

In other words, three times in more than enough for me. I don’t need to watch this movie ever again.

That’s a wrap. 94 shows down; 11 to go.

Coming Soon: The Legend of Drunken Master (1994)

Ahhhh. A nice breath of fresh air, after emotional weightiness of the prior three movies. Kung-fu action up the wah-zoo. As of writing this, apparently Jackie Chan is in some hot water for an anti-American rant. Whatever. I just want to see one guy jumping around, kicking the stuffing out of a bunch of other guys. 

Film # 82: Brazil (1985)

Director: Terry Gilliam

Initial Release Country: United States

Times Previously Seen: twice; last time about 10 years ago.

Teaser Summary (No spoilers)

Lonely bureaucrat in an Orwellian alternate reality seeks to escape his society’s trappings to find romantic love.

Extended Summary (More detailed synopsis, including spoilers. Fair warning.)

In an unspecified time, in an unspecified European country, Sam Lowry (Jonathan Price) is a mid-level bureaucrat working for the massive government machine. He works in a dismal factory environment crammed with pipes, papers, and employees who spend plenty of time shuffling around both themselves and various order forms. Amid all of this, Lowry has daydreams of flying among the clouds as an angel, seeking out a beautiful, unnamed woman who is trapped in gossamer netting.

One day, his office receives notice of an error made by one of the countless departments within the system – a typo has led to the brutal arrest, retrieval, torture, and death of an innocent man, Harry Buttle. Buttle has been mistaken for Harry Tuttle (Robert De Niro), a known “renegade and terrorist” engineer who runs around the city, illegally fixing people’s electrical problems without the proper paperwork. Lowry recognizes the mistake and volunteers to bring a pittance check to the bereaved widow.

 Sam assists his lazy boss in sorting out the "error" that led to Buttle's death. This kick-starts Sam's quest for his dream girl, Jill.

At the Buttle widow’s apartment, Sam comes in contact with Jill Layton (Kim Greist), the Buttles’ upstairs neighbor, who also happens to be the very vision of the woman in his dreams. Since Buttle’s erroneous arrest and death, Jill has been working her way through the endless government channels to find who is responsible for her neighbor’s wrongful death. Her tireless pursuit of justice through these channels has also earned her status as a fellow terrorist aid to the renegade Tuttle. Sam tries to pursue her, but Jill offers no information and flees, fearing anyone from the government.

Back at his apartment, Sam runs into the real Harry Tuttle, who barges in so that he can fix Sam’s broken air conditioner. While efficiently fixing the problem, Tuttle explains that he was a government engineer, but left because the amount of paperwork. Before Tuttle leaves, Sam also helps him deal with a pair of government workers who show up (many hours late) to fix his air conditioner.

Now obsessed with finding Jill, Sam decides to take a previously-offered promotion into the Ministry of Information Retrieval, the department in charge of all information gathering. Sam had refused the offer, which was the result of the machinations of his image-obsessed and vain mother, due to his contentment with his low-level, low-stress job. Now, he accepts and becomes an Information Retrieval officer.

After obtaining some general information about Jill, he comes across her in the office building as she continues to seek justice for Buttle’s death. Sam finally reaches her. Jill at first tries to shake Sam away from her, but he eventually convinces her that he is, indeed, deeply infatuated with her. With government officers on her trail, Jill goes with Sam into hiding. Sam sneaks back to the Ministry of Information Retrieval and falsifies the records so that Jill shows up as “deceased”. He returns to her and the two share a romantic evening together.

 Though unglamorous and unassuming in real life, Jill is the object of Sam's self-destructive pursuit of love.

The next morning, the state police barge in and take Sam away. He is run through the draconian, yet clinically anaesthetized legal process, and ends up in a torture room. Just as he is about to be tortured (by his old “friend”, Jack Lint (Michael Palin) from his previous job), his torturer is shot through the head by Harry Tuttle and a gang of terrorist raiders. The raiders pull Sam out of the building, and he flees with Tuttle.

The world around Sam starts to become more fantastic and dreamlike during his escape. He and Tuttle run into a shopping center, where Tuttle inexplicably becomes shrouded by massive amount of flying papers. When Sam tries to pull the papers off, Tuttle seems to have vanished altogether. Sam runs into what appears to be a church, in which a funeral is taking place. The deceased is announced as one of Sam’s mother’s frenemies – a fellow plastic surgery addict who had been growing ever-more deformed through botched procedures. Next to the coffin is Sam’s mother, now transformed into a woman who appears to be in her mid-20s, and who looks exactly like Jill. She is being fawned over by eager young men, and she brushes Sam away from her.

Retreating outside, Sam is once again in a world even bleaker than anything we’ve yet seen – the buildings are cold, rigid, flat, gray structures that tower over him. A gang of policemen pick up their pursuit of him again, chasing him into a massive wall of the flex-piping that is ubiquitous in Sam’s life. After frantically digging through the pipes, Sam finds himself in a trailer being driven by Jill. Once again united with his lost love, the two drive off in seeming bliss.

However, this perfect happy ending abruptly ends when we see Sam back in the torture chair deep within the Ministry of Information Retrieval. In fact, the entire escape from the torture room was a pure fantasy brought on by the torture. Sam, now thoroughly insane, has sought refuge in his unrealistic and childish fantasies of escape from the system that has now effectively destroyed him.

Sam's destiny ends here - in the torturer's chair, completely insane and disconnected from his warped reality.

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

A very brief history: I love Terry Gilliam. I’m not a blind worshipper, by any means, and there are a few of his films that have fallen flat for me (The Fisher King and Tideland, specifically). Most of his work, though, I find wonderful, in the truest sense of the word. From the moment I watched Time Bandits as an 8–year old child, I was hooked. With this movie, and others like The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, I got a great combination of childlike wonder, fun adventure, and humor that magnificently ran from silly to wry.

With Brazil, it was only upon this recent viewing that I can say that I now fully appreciate it. It really is his best film, and it is not difficult to see just why it made the TIME 100 list.

Brazil is not Gilliam’s gravest or most serious work, but it is his most artful and will ultimately be his most lasting. By drawing from the more timeless themes of the human condition, namely individuality versus conformity, he sets this work above all of his others and makes a visually arresting statement about human psychology in the post-Industrial Age. It was something that writers and observers had been doing for decades prior to Brazil, but Gilliam was the first to express it so stunningly in cinema.

It’s not hard to see in the protagonist, Sam Lowry, the essence of George Orwell’s Winston Smith in the seminal novel 1984. Lowry, like Smith, is part of a totalitarian system in which a sprawling and invasive government has molded its citizens into a populace that has sacrificed its creativity and freedom for the “security” of bland superficiality. The various “Ministries” in Brazil are virtual parallel to those in 1984. The contribution that Gilliam made in his film is that we can now see the results in the form of revolting starkness. Between the towering grey buildings and the endless miles of piping in Brazil, a viewer feels totally crushed and hemmed in on all sides. As a viewer, I found myself yearning for the more colorful, fantastic dreams that Lowry would drift into, childish and unrealistic as they might be.

 Sam's dream self. These play out like the fantasies of a 13-year-old boy, which is what Sam is, emotionally.

It is this childishness of Lowry that was my grand revelation upon this most recent viewing. When watching this film times past, I never quite realized that Lowry is meant to be seen as completely out of touch with his own reality. This is something that, at one point, Jill expresses to him in those exact words. Once Lowry sees Jill for the first time, he becomes possessed of a completely juvenile mania to track her down, in the process destroying his own life and any chance of happiness. I realized that this is not due to a lack of intelligence on Sam’s part, but rather the fact that he has been so repressed by the hulking system around him that he is not capable of handling emotions such as love (or at least, infatuation) as a mature adult. Instead, he charges headlong after Jill and is inevitably crushed in all ways possible.

Someone who hasn’t seen the movie and reads my previous paragraphs would think that Brazil is a humorless slog through dour sociopolitical commentary. Far from it. As with all of his other films, Terry Gilliam gives us plenty of humor to carry us through. Gilliam was an original key member of Monty Python, and it’s not hard to see it in any of his films, including Brazil. No, there are no “Lumberjack” songs or overtly silly antics, but a certain “Python” tone is there. Whether it’s the goofy hats that the government electricians wear or the willful obliviousness of a professional torturer, there are plenty of comedic moments, light and pitch dark, alike. It’s not stuff of gut-busting hilarity; rather, it’s humor calculated for extreme effect. It all conveys just how unaware nearly all of the characters in the film are to their situation.

One of the best examples of this lack of admission is when Lowry tracks down the Ministry’s “Information Retrieval” department on his mission to find Jill. When he reaches the office, he hears the bloodcurdling screams of a “detainee” being tortured in an otherwise stately-looking office. Once the session is finished, Sam walks in to see the back of the torturer (the Jack Lint character played by Monty Python alum Michael Palin), hunched over as he sobs uncontrollably. Once Sam announces his presence, though, Lint turns and composes himself in a split second, utterly refusing to face just how horrific are the acts that he performs on a daily basis. This perpetual denial is arguably the most lasting notion of the entire film.

 Jack Lint, covered in blood from his latest victim, though putting on the eternal "good show" of a smile to others.

And it is scenes such as this one in which Gilliam’s humor is a tremendous asset to the movie. The entire tone of the scene is one of chilling horror, and yet you almost can’t help but chuckle when Sam confronts his former coworker. It is one of dozens of moments that elevate Brazil from straightforward social commentary into more Swiftian satire. It was this entire angle that had eluded me in previous viewings, and which I am very glad to have noticed this time around.

As you may glean, Brazil is not a barrel of laughs. Anyone familiar with Gilliam’s other more popular, much more “Python-esque” movies should not expect a sibling of Time Bandits, Holy Grail, or similar ilk. Rather, Brazil is those movies’ distant, dark cousin. A dark, brooding, and far more intelligent cousin whose somewhat silly gags can mask brutally sardonic observations.

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

The story of Brazil’s creation and execution is rather interesting, but nearly as interesting and highly publicized as its studio release.

When you watch Brazil, you’ll probably be highly amused, if not dazzled, at some of the brilliantly funny lines of dialogue. If so, then you probably won’t be surprised by the fact that one of the co-writers was Tom Stoppard, accomplished writer of witty gems like Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead. As gifted as Gilliam is, he needed some help adding narrative cohesion and sharper dialogue to his tale, and Stoppard obliged.

Reading about Gilliam’s filmmaking reveals a few things. Often, his crew has nightmares about the scenes that he writes, due to their highly fantastic nature. One can easily say (as Gilliam himself probably would) that his artistic visions usually push or pass the boundaries of practicality, in terms of actual production. This is something that links to one of Gilliam’s favorite filmmakers – Federico Fellini. In Fellini’s 8 ½, the very subject is a talented director’s disconnection from reality and how this plays out in both his life and his films. While I can’t speak to Gilliam’s personal life, it is a problem that has almost always been a characteristic of his movies, which often get squeezed or completely crushed by financial backers who will not fund the grand designs of Gilliam’s dreams. When they do happen, though, the results are often magical.

 Executing shots like this has always been a nightmare for crews who work on Gilliam's films, but the end results are often stunning and impressive.

An interesting side note about Gilliam, based on past interviews – he has a real chip on his shoulder about certain directors, namely Steven Spielberg and George Lucas. He has considered them as panderers to the masses, and overly commercial. In addition, he sees Lucas as particularly personifying the uglification of movies through overuse of CGI. I have to agree, as my own sentiments echo Gilliam’s, regarding the StarWars prequel trilogy.

The eventual release of Brazil is probably the most interesting tale behind the finished product. To make a long story short, the studio executives did not see Brazil as “commercially viable”, being too long, too dark, and too quirky for a wider audience to enjoy. Gilliam, who had contractual final cut on the movie, staged something of a guerrilla war against one particular executive who stalled the film’s release and who pushed for a much-altered version of the film. A quick look at the two versions is very telling.

Gilliam’s version (as described above) is obviously very dark, making the point that the society portrayed in Brazil is so bleak and entrenched that a lone, unrealistic dreamer never stands a chance. It’s a bold and interesting, if not exactly uplifting, statement. The studio, and one man in particular named Sid Sheinberg, had the fantasy sequences almost completely eliminated, pared the film by over 40 minutes, and gave the film a happy ending with Sam and Jill living on a “happy valley” farm outside of the totalitarian city in which they had lived. This is interesting since it is almost exactly what was encountered by Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner several years prior.

 One of the final shots of the legitimate Gilliam ending. The serene landscape in the background contains the "happy ending" that Sheinberg wanted to release. If he had had his way, Brazil would not only have been forgettable, but also probably a plain old, bad movie.

Gilliam flipped. He refused to put his name on any such film, as it so distorted the story that he was telling. What followed was a drawn out back-and-forth between studio, Gilliam, and a gaggle of lawyers. In the end, Gilliam’s version of Brazil was released, much to the delight of certain parties who were fighting for its artistic integrity.

The critical reaction was actually rather mixed upon its release in late 1985. Some hailed it as a masterpiece work, and it won several regional awards. Other groups of critics all but ignored the movie, or gave it lukewarm reviews. Commercially, it managed to just break even.

In the 17 years since its release, Brazil’s stature has grown impressively. While no one is going to call it the greatest movie of all time, it is widely considered exceptional, and is easily one of the most singular and interesting films of the 1980s. It also served as a clear inspiration for later films, such as the Coen brothers’ The Hudsucker Proxy and others. The “retro-future” designs of the costumes and sets, which blend older Victorian-era styles with hyper-Industrialized and futuristic elements, has also been seen as an inspiration for the “steam-punk” sub-culture.

Gilliam himself looks back at Brazil with overall fondness. Despite the insane headaches that its final release caused, and the fact that he shot himself in the foot, in terms of Hollywood, he still sees it as a success for “the little guy”. Ultimately, it was an off-kilter movie that was made and shown as he intended. It’s not hard to see the parallels between his fight for his movie and his character Sam Lowry’s pursuit of his own dream. The difference is that Gilliam got the satisfying ending that he denied Sam.

That’s a wrap. 82 shows down, 23 to go.

Coming Soon: The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985)

Woody Allen makes the list. The neurotic little New Yorker is hit or miss with me. The one and only time I watched this movie, it was a miss. I’ll try again very shortly. Come on back to see if I change my mind with this little historical flight of fancy.

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

Film # 80: E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial

Director: Steven Spielberg

Initial Release Country: United States

Times Previously Seen: 5 or 6, probably (Last seen – around 25 years ago).

Teaser Summary (No spoilers)

Young boy meets kindly little stranded alien. They bond by helping each other and getting drunk, among other things.

Extended Summary (Lengthier plot synopsis, including spoilers. Fair warning.)

In a forest just outside a Californian suburb, a spacecraft is on the ground. Its crew, a short and hairless species of extra-terrestrial, is gathering plant samples. When a group of very curious men arrives nearby, the visitors quickly retreat to their ship. One of their members, though, is left behind due to the need to escape detection. His ship departs, but this lone, stranded alien evades capture by scuttling down to the nearby neighborhood.

In one of the homes near the woods, a young boy named Elliot (Henry Thomas) is sent out by his older brother Michael (Robert McNaughton) and his friends to get a pizza. In doing so, Elliot follows a strange noise to the nearby storage shed, where he tosses a softball in. When some unseen thing tosses it back, Elliot dashes inside and tries to convince his family of what he saw, but to no avail. They find nothing, discredit Elliot, and they all go to bed.

The alien, in the woods as he's about to be left behind by his crew.

Later that night, however, Elliot goes back out to the shed, where he stumbles across the alien from the woods. Both are terrified of each other, and the alien scampers back to the forest. The next day, Elliot’s friends and family still dismissing his tales of the creature, he bikes to the woods and scatters candy about in an attempt to lure the creature out. The plan does not initially seem to work. However, late that night, with Elliot sleeping in a chair outside their shed, the alien slowly emerges. Elliot wakes and the two quietly size each other up. Eventually, the alien leaves a handful of the candy that Elliot had left for him.

Elliot uses more of the candy to lure the alien up to his room. Once Elliot sees the creature in full, he sees that it is a short (shorter even than him), brown, almost reptilian creature with large eyes. The creature seems totally peaceful and willing to follow Elliot around.

The next day, Elliot fakes being sick to stay home. He shows the creature around the house and tries to explain as much as he can about the objects around them. That afternoon, Elliot shows the creature to his older brother and their younger sister, Gertie (Drew Barrymore). After the initial shock, the siblings accept the creature as a docile curiosity and swear not to tell anyone.

Later that night, while the children attempt to explain where they are on a globe, the creature levitates several balls of play-doh and communicates through this and gestures that his home is in the distant stars. Elliot and his siblings now understand that the creature is, in fact, an alien or “E.T.”, for “extra-terrestrial”. On top of this, the E.T. (which becomes Elliot’s de facto name for the creature), instantly revives a dying plant simply by touching it with a glowing finger. Apparently, E.T.’s powers are beyond human comprehension.

Gertie and E.T., holding one of the plants that he empathically brought back to life.

The next day, while Elliot is at school about to dissect frogs with his class, E.T. explores the house. He starts scavenging various electronic devices to assemble a make-shift communicator, intending to contact his home planet and ask for rescue. He also downs several beers, becoming drunk in the process. Amazingly, Elliot starts to show the same effects of intoxication in his class. Clearly, some kind of mental and physical bond has emerged between the human boy and the alien he is fostering.

Upon returning home, Elliot finds that Gertie has taught E.T. to talk in a rudimentary form of English. E.T. explains his plan to contact his home world with his cobbled transmitter, and Elliot is eager to help. This is growing ever more important, as both E.T. and Elliot start showing signs of illness. Unbeknownst to any of them, though, is that there are shadowy government agents searching the neighborhood, and they have just pinpointed the alien that they are searching for.

The following day is Halloween. Amid the revelry, Elliot takes E.T. to the forest, where the alien sets up his communicator and sends his S.O.S. into the stars. In the night, however, E.T. and Elliot get separated. Elliot wakes in the forest, but E.T. is nowhere in sight. Later that day, Michael goes back to the woods and finds E.T., face down near a storm drain, pale and barely alive. Michael brings the shallowly-breathing alien back home, where Elliot is also showing the effects of severe illness. Not knowing what else to do, Michael reveals E.T. to their mother. In shock, she grabs the weakened Elliot and tries to run out of the house, only to be met by an entire squad of government scientists and soldiers.

The government scientists quarantine the entire house and begin to study E.T. and Elliot, attempting to save both of them. One of the men who was first looking for the aliens in the forest arrives and explains that they want to help. Eventually, despite their efforts, the bond between E.T. and Elliot dissipates, and E.T.’s health declines further. All of his vital signs stop, and he is declared dead.

Before the scientists take E.T. away, the lead scientist allows Elliot a private moment to say goodbye to the alien. As he is doing so, Elliot tells the dead E.T. that he loves him. Immediately after, E.T. regains consciousness and explains to Elliot that his fellow crew members are returning to rescue him. Quickly pulling a ruse, Elliot and Michael manage to get E.T. out of the house and into an ambulance, escaping the government agents.

After being revived, E.T. assists in his own escape, about to levitate his rescuers into the air.

Several of Michael’s friends quickly catch up to the fleeing trio, and they manage to further evade the government agents. The ultimate moment is when E.T. levitates all five of his rescuers and their bicycles high into the air and into the forest. When night falls, E.T.’s ship returns to the spot where they first had to leave him. E.T. is now rescued.

Upon their farewells, E.T. finally points to Elliot’s heart and tells him that “I’ll be right here.” E.T. then boards his mother ship and the craft returns to the skies.

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (Done upon this recent viewing, before any further research.)

This one has lost quite a bit of luster, in my eyes. This is probably for a few reasons.

First, let me lay out the things that I still like about E.T. For a PG-rated family flick, there is still a great amount of wonder to be found in the movie. Since there are certain things that are never fully explained, mostly about E.T.’s race and powers, the viewer is left with a very healthy amount of curiosity. Because I hadn’t seen the movie since I was about 10 years old, I noticed things like the fact that E.T.’s crew all seem to be intergalactic botanists. This is an interesting, pacifist portrait to paint of a group of aliens, and one that you wouldn’t expect in a massive-budget Hollywood movie.

More than E.T’s seeming job as an interstellar sample gatherer, though, are his strange powers and abilities. What can the viewers make of the clear psychic bond between E.T. and not only his own species, but with seemingly all living things around him? Despite the fact that they appear to be a stunted and physically handicapped, the species is clearly possessed of abilities far beyond human reach. You can have a field day thinking of the ramifications or imagining just what E.T’s home-world and civilization must be like. The fact that these questions are never answered is probably the most indelible piece of magic in the movie, to me.

E.T's ability to communicate and empathize with other living organisms, signaled by his glowing chest and finger, are left for us to puzzle and wonder over.

The other clear strength is more general and about Spielberg himself. While I often have my gripes about his films (I’ll get to those in a paragraph or two), no one can fault the man’s technical skill as a director. From his earliest movies in the 1970s, Spielberg showed himself able to set up crisp, clean shots that told a story through pictures as much as dialogue. Let’s face it – his films are almost always pleasurable to look at and take in. This is because his framing of shots and choreographing of action is virtually flawless. It may not always be creative or interesting, but he always knows how to use film technique effectively. E.T. is no exception.

So why doesn’t E.T. hold the same spot in my heart that it did 30 years ago, when at six years old I had my parents take me to see it three times in the theater? Well, the easy answer is that I’m not a kid anymore. But this doesn’t tell the whole story. Number one is that in the succeeding three decades, I have grown into a more sophisticated fan of science fiction. Rather than a heart-warming story about a boy and his alien, I now usually go to science fiction novels and movies to find interesting speculations about the very real ramifications of scientific discoveries. E.T. doesn’t offer any of this, giving us something that is more a blend of fantasy and sci-fi, rather than pure sci-fi.

More to the point, as a better-versed fan of science-fiction, E.T. raises a few too many “techy” questions that I can’t let go. How, exactly, does E.T.’s spacecraft even sniff the ground in California without getting blown to bits by the Air Force? Why did E.T.’s species not wear any type of insulator suits to prevent transmission or contraction of diseases, as the title character seemed to? These are the kinds of questions that I couldn’t have even thought of as a kind, but I can now. And when I do, the lack of answers lets the balloon out of my disbelief’s suspension.

Another one of my little bugaboos is related to one of the movie’s strengths – Spielberg’s direction. I praise Spielberg’s direction for being very crisp and clean, but in E.T., this is a mild detriment when it comes to plot, themes, and characterization. By now, it’s easy to figure the Spielberg story blueprint for family films: amazing, supernatural events + sympathetic child(ren) + a mild dash of humorously crass dialogue + sentimentality. Voila! Summer blockbuster!! Sure, E.T. shows much more imagination, heart, and production value than the endless copycats that followed, but it’s all a tad too adorable for me now.

Honestly, who could resist those big ol' baby blues?

Speaking of adorable, E.T. might be the single best example of Spielberg’s mastery at emotional manipulation, and it all comes down to one, simple decision about the way the E.T. looked – his eyes. What better way to ensure that everyone and their brother can empathize with a creature that otherwise looks like some mashed up reptile? Give it massive, blue, human eyes. Hey, it’s worked in Japanese anime and manga for all these decades, so why wouldn’t it work for Steven Spielberg?

One final note of distaste. This is the first film that I’ve done for this blog that features something that has become standard is a lot of commercial movies – product placement. Anyone who was alive when E.T. came out remembers how sales of Reese’s Pieces spiked. This, no doubt, helped push the rock of marketing even further towards the cliff.

This is another film from the “All-TIME” list that does have me wondering why it was included on their list. Sure, it was a massive hit, and it was a different take on the tale of the alien visitor. Is this enough to consider it one of the “all time great” films and rank it with the likes of Citizen Kane, Ikiru, Persona, and the like? My hunch is no, but I’ll do some more research for my “Take 2” (below).

So, as it stands, I don’t see myself watching E.T. again for a long time, if ever. I would certainly watch it with a young child who had never seen it before, and I suppose that a young would really enjoy it, just as I did long ago. But on my own, I wouldn’t waste my time.

Take 2: Why Film Geeks Love This Movie (Done after some further research on film.)

Apparently, I’ve become a bit of a jaded cynic.

In digging into E.T.’s original reception, I have rediscovered the insanely positive reactions that the film inspired. As we all know, it was massively popular, setting box office records that stood for many years. More than this, though, is what I learned about critical responses. E.T. was nominated for NINE Academy Awards, including “Best Picture”. The capper for me was that Richard Attenborough, the director who beat out E.T. with his remarkable biopic Gandhi, said that he not only thought E.T. would win, but that it should win Best Picture. Over Gandhi, for Pete’s sake!!

It doesn’t stop there. The E.T. character was nominated for TIME Magazine’s “person of the year”, the first time a film character had ever been nominated. In late 1982, the film was screened at the United Nations, and Steven Spielberg was given a U.N Peace Medal.

Sheesh! That little brown dude seriously stirred up some love!

Many were stunned when Gandhi beat out E.T. for Best Picture. Maybe the Academy people just got confused by the physical similarities between Ben Kingsly and the cute, bronzed little alien.

Lest anyone think that this was simply a “right place, right time” kind of movie, it was re-released on big screens in 2002, and it raked in another $60 million. From my own personal experience as an English as a Second Language teacher, I have seen the ubiquity of E.T. Nearly all of my students, from the farthest reaches of the globe and many of them born long after E.T. first came out, have seen and know the movie. Clearly, this film story has some serious staying power.

Despite all of this evidence to its “greatness”, I still can’t sign off on it. I suppose that I can agree that it is “great” in that the film makes an enduring connection with young people all over the world. In this sense, it transcends so may of the boundaries that prevent our different cultures from appreciating each others’ art forms. From a personal perspective, though, I can’t place E.T. anywhere near the level of bolder, more imaginative films, either within or outside of the science fiction genre.

Here endeth my mild skewering of the world’s most beloved, dumpy, glowing alien.

That’s a wrap. 80 shows down. 25 to go.

Coming Soon: Blade Runner (1982):

 I follow up family-friendly science fiction in the form of E.T. with a trip to the dark, twisted side of science fiction. This one, an adaptation from a story by the brilliant, paranoid writer Philip K. Dick, is all high-concept and sleek style.

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