New Release! 1917 (2019) [No spoilers, so read away!]

Spoiler-Free Review, so have no fear:

Director: Sam Mendes

One of the greatest war movies ever made. Hands down.

As the name of the movie implies, it takes place during World War I - the massive conflict in the early part of the 20th century that saw multiple countries at war throughout Europe and Mediterranean. Though the war was a massive affair that dragged on for roughly four years and involved millions upon millions of soldier, this particular movie mostly follows two young British soldiers, Lance Corporals Blake and Schofield. The two are commanded to deliver an urgent message to a regiment of 1,600 fellow soldiers who are set to fall into a massive trap. Blake's brother is in that company, and he and Schofield have to traverse a few miles of supposedly-abandoned no-man's land to reach their comrades and deliver the message before the attack takes place the following dawn.

The set-up of the tale is simple enough, as a classic race against the clock tale. But the execution is what sets this movie apart from so very many of its counter-parts.

Probably the most obvious element of the filming is that the entire movie is done in a virtually unbroken "tracking shot," meaning that the camera constantly stays on one or both of the main characters the entire time, without the camera ever cutting to a different angle or jumping to a different scene. This builds a sense of complete continuity and place, as you are experiencing exactly what Blake and Schofield are in real time, at exactly the same pace that they are. Plenty of films have used the tracking shot for such purposes, but they rarely last for more than a few minutes, due to the technical difficulties of executing them for very long. 1917 goes all-in with it, though, and the effects are powerful.

By telling the story with unbroken chronology, we are allowed to see everything these characters experience for the roughly two hours of the mission (two hours minus an indefinite period when one of them is knocked out). And while there are certainly moments of intense action and harrowing escapes, there are almost as many moments of eerie quiet and poetic meditation. As the story progresses, we can see the effects of the trauma through the ever-more glazed looks in the eyes and the ever-more desperate and blind urgency in the Lance Corporal's movements.

Blake and Schofield cross the wire into no-man's land,
towards the start of their mission against time. This still may
suggest the care that went into the costumes, sets, and props.

While all of this may suggest a thoroughly grim slog across a hellscape of war, there is more to it than that. Yes - the horrors of war are clearly presented, in their various degrees of gross inhumanity as well as brutal intimacy. However, there is real visual beauty and majesty to be noticed here and there, suggesting the remnants of the things which are supposedly being fought over. When Blake and Schofield walk through a quiet, abandoned orchard of stunning, white-blossomed cherry trees, it's almost painful to realize how much death a destruction has and will continue to happen in and around this otherwise beautiful, pastoral setting. Moments like this give the film extra layers and shades rarely found in a war picture.

I've read a few pieces critical of some elements of the movie, such as finding the sustained tracking-shot technique a distracting flourish, or that the slow moments beg questions about whether the characters' actions are in keeping with the demands of the premise. But I'm yet to read one of these criticisms that has shaken my feeling that I was watching a real masterpiece of cinematic art.

I highly recommend that anyone go and see this movie. Chances are that there will be something that amazes you, if not many things or the entire thing. 

Before I Die #617: All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)

This is the 617th movie I've now seen out of the 1,199 films on the "Before You Die" list that I'm gradually working my way through.

Director: Lewis Milestone

The earliest adaptation of an astounding anti-war novel, and one that gets the spirit of the author's work correct, even if it's aged very badly in a few respects.

Knowing that I would soon be watching the movie, I read Erich Maria Remarque's novel for the very first time, and I was blown away. In this 1928 book, I was seeing so many of the seeds that would grow into some of the best anti-war books and films in the decades to come, right up to today. Remarque's novel is told in first-person narrative, from the perspective of Paul Baumer, a bright young German man who enlists in the army in the early years of World War I. In the ensuing couple of years, Pauls' entire view of war and humanity shifts, as he realizes the toll that it takes on young men like him, killing many and leaving the rest physically and/or psychologically maimed for life. Amid these grim observations, Remarque was sure to include plenty of authentic-feeling humor, humanity, and description of the strange and sometimes even touching bonds which form in the midst of brutal warfare.

This first film adaptation was made within two years after the book was published and very quickly became an international sensation. Made by the British film council, it used American and British actors playing the German soldiers. I feel that this adaptation got two things very right: one was not shying away from the ugliest aspects of the war, as detailed by Remarque, who himself fought and was wounded in the trenches. The novel details some truly gut-wrenching passages of comrades dying brutal deaths, both on the battlefield and in the medical centers. It even tackles the topics of PTSD, before that particular term existed, along with the horrifying mental effects of seeing friends and comrades die by the scores on a regular basis. To this point in my movie viewing, the only other film I recall looking at such things was 1925's The Big Parade. That previous movie stood out for its stripping away of the glamour often surrounding war, but not quite with the unflinching gaze that Remarque's novel and this particular film did.

The movie is often at its best when depicting the brutal and
chaotic nature of being in the middle of a massive-scale
firefight. Men get mowed down and blown up without
a trace of glamour or glory.

The other standout feature of this movie is the battle sequences, which are extremely intense in many moments. There are plenty of large-scale action sequences of the front, the chaos found there, and the gruesome tragedies that unfold. The cinematography during such sequences is highly impressive for its time, and even outdo the aforementioned The Big Parade, which had set the prior benchmark in war films. All Quiet offers a variety of close-ups and wide-angle shots, in both the tight-knit quarters of the trenches and the frightening exposure on the open front. Given their limitations, these aspects of the film still stand the test of time quite well, these 77 years later.

Unfortunately, not all elements of the movie were as strong as the themes and the battle scenes. The dialogue and acting are at times painfully bad, with lines and performances that can be sappy, hokey, and sentimental enough to make one wince. The verbal and visual gags are mostly the sophomoric variety, which I suppose went over well with a broader audience back in 1930 but which are now laughably banal. This is a misstep that, oddly, seems to be somewhat common in war pictures. Deft handling of the war elements are in sharp contrast to misguided or simply unimaginative attempts at levity. It overwhelmed the first half of The Big Parade, but it's even noticeable in the very recent Hacksaw Ridge. I guess if you're only going to get one of those things right in a war picture, it better be the war aspects. Still, this doesn't make lame dialogue any more tolerable, especially when performed poorly.

This is one worth seeing for buffs of older war films, as it contains some of the earliest quality work getting the important themes and aspects correct. That said, one will likely have to be patient with the attempts at humor or slower drama, which for me just don't hold up any more. For a more completely and satisfying version of the story, one is better off just reading the original novel.

That's 617 down; only 582 to go before I can die.

Before I Die #593: The Big Parade (1925)

This is the 593rd movie I've watched out of the 1,187 movies on the "Before You Die" lists that I'm gradually working my way through.

Director: King Vidor

For its time, a surprisingly hard look at the horrors of war, though one that would hold up better if not for an overly long and farcical first half.

The movie focuses on James Apperson, a layabout son of a wealthy industrial capitalist based in New York City. After seeing a parade for troops heading to Europe to fight in World War I, Apperson is swept up in patriotic fervor and enlists in the army. In service, he befriends a couple of working class New Yorkers in his platoon- the bartender "Bull" and the riveter "Slim." The platoon is sent to France, but they spend their first several weeks away from the front lines and instead kill time and boredom in a small French village. Apperson takes a fancy to a local French woman, who returns his affection. Soon, however, Apperson's platoon is sent to actually fight. At the front, Apperson's platoon meets strong resistance from German snipers and heavy artillery, which mow down a large number of Apperson's comrades in arms, including Slim. Apperson heroically charges towards the German lines, taking out several soldiers and an artillery setup, but he loses his leg in the process. Upon returning home, Apperson finds that while his parents are proud of him, the horrors of war have left their mark on his psyche as well as his body. To find solace, he returns to France and finds the young lady with whom he fell in love.

The second half of this movie is clearly the standout feature of it, as it is the earliest example of a well-done, hard look at war that I've seen. From the chilling opening moments of the fighting, with Apperson's platoon slowly walking through sniper-infested woods and getting picked off one by one, to the outright chaos of the nighttime artillery bombardment, the terrors of armed warfare are made far clearer than audiences would have seen in motion pictures at the time. There is an appropriate sense of loss and misery conveyed through much of these latter parts of the movie, and I feel that this is what sets it apart and makes it a classic.

The sequence with the snipers in the forest is far quieter than
the later scenes of the nighttime bombings, but I found them
actually more harrowing. It is the actual battle scenes that
keep this movie firmly among the important films in history.

The first half of the film, though, can drag. Far more of it is dedicated to lighthearted sight gags and a dash of slapstick, more in keeping with the free and easy fare of a Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin movie. I think that a small dose of these things would have been fine, but the movie spends over an hour in this tone. It took patience for me to get through this first half, but the payoff of the second half was worth it.

Apparently, this was the highest grossing movie of all time in the United States, until Gone With the Wind came out 14 years later. It's not hard to see why, as it made an early and profound statement against warfare, during a period when the country was most certainly still dealing with the psychological fallout of losing so many people to its horrors. Fans of historical war movies and silent movies in general will want to see this one, as it was a clear prototype for later war movies like All Quiet on the Western Front, The Best Years of Our Lives, Paths of Glory, and many others.

That's 593 movies down. Only 594 to go before I can die. 

Oscar Run-Down (an incomplete review)

So here is my run-down of the six of the eight Best Picture nominees.

American Sniper

Director: Clint Eastwood

After the recent weeks of controversy and debate over this film, I finally saw it. I find it to be a very good movie about one singular man's experience with war, though it's not exactly a flawless masterpiece of cinema.

The story is that of Chris Kyle, the deadliest sniper in U.S. military history. Kyle was a man driven to enlist by patriotism and a strong urge to fight very real terrorism. As such, he did four separate tours in Iraq during the 2000s, distinguishing himself mostly through his unmatched skill in long-range shooting, which gave much-needed cover to ground troops. Also depicted are Kyle's struggles to reacclimate to life away from combat and back with his wife and children.

Most things are done quite well in the film, and they speak to Eastwood's deftness as a director. The battle scenes are intense without being gratuitously violent. Kyle's subdued intestity and levity feel extremely authentic, thanks to Bradley Cooper's understated yet nuanced performance. My main problems with the movie come from two places: one is that Kyle's wife, Taya, becomes a one-note refrain of "Don't go." It's an important sentiment, to be sure, but the film never does much to innovate on the theme.

The other, larger, problem I have is that there was clearly some manipulation of the facts in order to present a more exciting film narrative. In fact, I have even heard Cooper himself say that they had always pitched the film to be a "Western in the desert." This is fine in a work of fiction, but when you are telling the tale of a real man and the effects he felt of war, then artificial elements come off as a bit cheap and disrespectful to the subject. It doesn't help that some of these fictional manipulations can be seen as nationalistic propaganda, even if this was not the filmmakers' express intent.

My general feeling about the controversy around the movie is that both sides are blowing things a bit out of proportion, in order to support their pre-existing beliefs. One could perhaps make an argument that there is a hint of propaganda about the film, but it's certainly not clear-cut. However, I really didn't get the sense that the filmmakers were trying to make any kind of grand political or social statement about war. It's simply a well-done look at a gifted soldier and war's brutal effects on him.

Will it win Best Picture? I seriouly doubt it. Eastwood has done better movies, and the flaws are a little too glaring.

Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

Director: Alejandro Inarritu

I just watched this one, and it's certainly a trip. Using a heavy dose of Stedicam cinematography and extremely clever editing, Birdman follows Riggan Thompson, a once-immensely popular star whose best-known role as the titular superhero has become an anchor on his soul. Seeking to legitimize himself as a serious artist, Thompson burns through his remaining finances and emotions to try and pull off a successful production on Broadway. It is, of course, no acident that Thompson is played by Michael Keaton, whose "biggest" role was as Batman in the two massively successful Tim Burton movies in 1989 and 1992. Keaton is great as the celebrity going through a very serious mental and professional crisis, and his performance is worthy of the Best Actor nomination that he's received.

The film has a lot ot absorb, and I  must admit to feeling a tad burned out during the last 30 minutes or so. Still, it's mostly an engaging look at a few intense days in the life of a man whose sanity is fraying more with every passing hour. There is plenty of magical realism to be had, and the performances are as impressive as they come. It can be a bit tough to glean an ultimate point through all of the criticism that Inarritu hurls in nearly every direction: celebrities, self-absorbed actors, theater critics, the public, and basically anyone involved with theater or film. Regardless, it's absolutely worthy of the 9 Oscar nomination it got, and it certainly should take home at least a few of the technical awards.

Will it win Best Picture? I doubt it, since the film takes so many pot-shots at every aspect of showbusiness, though it's a highly creative and worthy contender.

Boyhood

Director: Richard Linklater

An excellent film, in keeping with Richard Linklater’s naturalistic style while being a rather new achievement.

Boyhood follows the twelve formative years of a child named Mason, from ages 6 through 18. It is a tapestry of moments, of varying intensity, that leave an imprint on him as he grows towards adulthood. Similar to Linklater’s Dazed and Confused and other films, there is no particular “story” here, other than a single American boy experiencing a rather typical childhood in Texas between 2001 and 2013. He has an older sister; a single, working mother; and a wayward father who is periodically involved in his life. Mason has to deal with his mother’s sometimes strict, alcoholic boyfriends/husbands, his nagging sister, and the attempts to find any sort of purpose in life.

The brilliance of the movie is just how organic and subtle everything is. While there are a handful of shocking and traumatic moments, none of them is the stuff of high cinematic drama. Most of the movie is given over to the little moments that slowly shape Mason: the discovery of female bodies through lingerie catalogues; a casual conversation with his father that alters their relationship ever-so-slightly; a brief shove from a pair of bullies; a stern talk with his photography teacher. These and many more moments tell the tale of a boy who becomes sullen but hopeful that life does have something to offer a young person who is never completely sure of his footing. It’s a long movie, in terms of time (2 hours and 45 minutes), but it never feels it as we smoothly transition through Mason’s childhood years.

I may not feel the need to watch Boyhood again any time soon, but it is clearly an outstanding film achievement.

Will it win Best Picture? Perhaps, given Linklater’s place in American film history and the fact that he hasn’t been honored in such a way before. It is certainly one of the strongest contenders in the field.


The Grand Budapest Hotel

Director: Wes Anderson

It's a Wes Anderson movie, alright.

Told with several chronological jumps and a ridiculously talented cast, we follow the adventures of Gustave H., the legendary concierge at the title Hotel. He's a curious character, who lives to be the very best at his prestigious job, while bedding wealthy women of advanced age. Gustave is sold to us by the hilarious performace of Ralph Fiennes, who completely nails the shifts in register required by Anderson's ever-quirky script. The story is rather ridiculous, as have been all of Anderson's movies to varying degrees, but there is always a unity to each movie that allows us to accept the strange ways in which they work.

I'm of two minds these days about Anderson. He's clearly a unique filmmaker, and I still find his movies amusing and impressive for their exacting detail and singular blend of childlike glee and more universal and profound human sentiment. However, I can't shake the question of whether he's capable of doing something truly outside of the clear niche he's created for himself. In Grand Budapest, we even see the first marks of self-referential narcissism with a montage of other concierges across the globe, with each one being an actor who is an Anderson movie mainstay: Bill Murray, Bob Balaban, and others. The joke is only remotely funny if you know Anderson's films. Such egotism is a bit annoying, in my view.

Will it win Best Picture? No way. Though it might be another tiny step towards the "Life-Time Achievement Award" that Anderson will win 20 years from now.

The Imitation Game

Director: Morten Tyldum

An otherwise very good film made excellent by an outstanding acting performance.

This film, in keeping with the unoffical "biopic" theme of 2014, looks at key moments in the life of British mathematician Alan Turing. Turing is the father of modern computer science, and the film mostly traces his enlistment by the British military to crack the Enigma Code - Nazi Germany's code for military transmission used in World War II. The code was considered unbreakable until Turing and his small team put all of their mental efforts towards cracking it.

The Enigma Code puzzle is the intellectual meat of the plot, given its greater place in world history, but the film takes a close look at Turing himself, who was himself a cipher to many who knew him. Awkward with people and a closeted homosexual (homosexual acts were illegal in England during Turing's life), his struggles with himself are almost as fascinating as his desire to solve logical puzzles. The more personal elements explored in the film wouldn't have had nearly the power that they do if not for a spellbinding performance by Benedict Cumberbatch. Like most in the U.S., I first knew of Cumberbatch through the incredible Sherlock series on the BBC. What I saw in The Imitation Game was an actor going well beyond the norm to bring a singular historic person to life on screen. I have to think Cumberbtach a serious contender for Best Actor.

Will it win Best Picture? There's a very good chance, given how solid the movie is, in all respects.

Whiplash

Director: Damien Chazelle

This is a fantastic movie about obsession, drive, and the question of how far people will go to find and inspire greatness, either in themselves or in others.

The story follows Andrew Neimann, a freshman drummer at a highly prestigious music conservatory in New York City. Andrew's presence, skill, and determination are noticed by the school's most accomplished instructor, Mr. Fletcher, who quickly invites Neimann to try playing with the school's elite jazz ensemble. Neimann's excitement is soon burned away by Fletcher's unrelenting, scathing style of discipline and verbal abuse towards his pupils, especially Neimann. The young percussionist's drive to excel is driven by his own passion for greatness as well as his growing hatred for Fletcher.

The movie is uncomfortable in many places, as we watch Fletcher abuse Neimann in every way imaginable: physically, emotionally, and psychologically. Fletcher's rationale is that only through such manipulation and pressure can a musician become one of "The Greats." To support his theory, he often cites a famous anecdote about legendary jazz saxophonist Charlie "The Bird" Parker having a cymbal thrown at his head. We viewers are left plenty to ponder this notion of artistic acheivement and whether it is worth the cost. The cost, in Neimann's case, is his relationships with family, friends, and other musicians.

The music is the film is great, as you would expect, and the sound and film editing enhance it to a great degree. The highlight is clearly the performance of J. K. Simmons as Fletcher, who brings the sadistic music instructor to frightening life. Simmons will likely win Best Supporting Actor for the role, and he alone is worth watching, even if it can be difficult to witness the maelstrom of torment that he heaps upon Neimann.

Will it win Best Picture? I'm skeptical, due to how specialized the topic is, but it is clearly an all-time great "music" movie.

Selma & The Theory of Everything (and a few final thoughts)

I wasn't able to see either of these movies, try as I might. Based on the buzz, though, it sounds like we can expect Selma to completely get the shaft, while The Theory of Everything may merit little more than a Best Actor award for Eddie Redmayne.

Overall, I have to say that this year's crop of Best Picture nominees is a fairly solid one, though not exactly a year that will be seen as a historically great year. When we look back at these eight films twenty years from now, I don't know that more than one or two of them will have acheived "all-time great movie" status.

Waltz with Bashir (2008)

Director: Ari Folman

Summary

This animated film tells the true story of a former Israeli soldier who seeks out past military comrades with whom he served during the notorious massacres in Beirut in the mid 1980s. He is attempting to recover memories that he has lost from that time period, having only fragmented, confused chunks of these moments lingering in his mind. As he speaks to different soldiers who were also present, his memories start to return, which may or may not be such a desirable thing.

What Did I Think?

A pretty amazing film, though one whose true power really shows itself in the final two or three minutes.

If you read the summary, then you know not to expect anything uplifting here, and I didn't. However, Waltz with Bashir is certainly not a 90-minute slog through graphic brutality of war. The stories are very personal, sometimes very poetic, first-hand accounts of Israeli soldiers who were part of missions to find and kill supposed terrorists in Lebanon in the 1980s. Yes, there are battle scenes and tense, life-or-death moments depicted, some of which are starkly disturbing. Still, the film routinely brings things back to a personal, human level, so that you don't lose sight of how the warfare affected individuals, both physically and psychologically.

The animation is wonderful. Using a blend of traditional hand drawn figures and digital techniques to obtain ultra-smooth movements, many of the scenes are hypnotic in their simple beauty. The bright colors convey a sense of the natural Mediterranean beauty of the area, which makes the pallid browns, blacks, and greys of the battle scenes that much uglier.

A great example of one of the running contradictions
through the film - the dazzling use of color illustrating
both the casual cool of the soldier in the foreground, with
a fighter jet dropping bombs in the background.

Of course, this raises the question: why should we animate something as serious as war? Does a drawn and painted rendition of such horrors somehow cheapen them? The answer to this may be a matter of taste, but I was of two minds about it. Yes, the animation has far less shock value than would actual video of soldiers being brutally gunned down and blown up. Yes, there is a certain stylizing that that may come off as an oddly artificial veneer pasted over something that should only be given in its rawest form.

But this is the genius of the film, or any graphic representation of very real horrors. It allows a relatively soft landing into realms where most of us have never been and hope to never find ourselves. Instead of being immediately repulsed by detailed, realistic, and graphically unadulterated images, the illustrations allow us to dwell on the ideas and ideologies behind the brutality.  It also allows the depiction of some of the dream-like descriptions given by the soldiers as they detail their own bizarre and sometimes surreal mental states.

And then, the movie lets you have it. During the final 15 minutes, several former Israeli soldiers recount an absolutely brutal revenge massacre exacted by Christian Lebanese soldiers against Muslim citizens of their own country in Beirut. For most of the retelling, the visuals are of the same animated variety that the entire film has been in. However, during the final three minutes, the images shockingly become live video taken on the scene in 1985. No longer do we have the buffer of illustrations to save us from the sight of mutilated men, women, and children lying among the rubble. It is then that we have basically experienced exactly what the protagonist (and director of the film) has been searching for - a final recollection of exactly what he has been blocking away from his mind for so many years.

Obviously, this is not a "fun" film to watch. But it is a necessary film to watch for those of us who have never seen war first-hand, in order to gain some understanding of the insanity of it and how it might impact someone's psyche. I highly recommend it, just as I recommend knowing what you're in for. 

Film #99: Kandahar (2001)

Original Farsi Language Title: Safar e Ghandehar

Director: Mohsen Makhmalbaf

Times Previously Seen: none

Rapid-Fire Summary (No spoilers)

Afghan refugee-turned-reporter returns to her country of origin to find and hopefully rescue her suicidal sister. Is helped and hindered by various locals.

Extended Summary (Including Spoilers. Fair warning)

In the year 2000, Nafas (Nelofer Pazira) is a reporter who, a decade prior, fled from Afghanistan to Canada with most of her family. Now, she is returning to find her sister, who was accidentally left behind when the family left the war-torn country. Nafas has received an alarming letter from her sister, stating that her sister will commit suicide on the evening of the final eclipse of the 21^st century, citing her overwhelming depression at her situation in a country falling more and more firmly into the grip of the ultra-conservative Taliban.

Nafas, having re-donned the burka (face covering up, at the moment) in order to traverse the ultra-conservative regions of her home country.

With two days remaining before the coming eclipse, Nafas must first don the full-body covering burka and pose as a wife of a local man who, with his family, is attempting to return to their home village in Afghanistan by crossing from the Iran border. She and the family only get so far into the country before they are robbed and left stranded by their driver. In the nearest village, she finds Khak (Sadou Teimouri), a young boy who has just been expelled from a Koranic school. Khak agrees to help Nafas get to Kandahar for cash payment.

After some arduous travel on foot over the desert landscape, Nafas becomes ill from drinking water from a local well. In the next village, she meets a doctor, Tabib (Hassan Tantai) who she soon learns is actually an African-American man who is helping the locals with their various ailments. The exact path that Tabib took to get where he is remains a mystery, but he has a genuine desire to help the people in Afghanistan in whatever ways that he can. Nafas leaves Khak behind, and Tabib takes her in his carriage back into the desert.

A little farther along, Tabib and Nafas arrive in a Red Cross camp, where international nurses are assisting local people in getting prosthetic legs to replace those that so many of them have lost to landmines scattered throughout the country. Among these men is a shifty, one-armed man named Hayat, who has pestered the nurses into giving him a set of legs. Nafas now must use Hayat as her guide, as Tabib must turn back from the strictly-Taliban controlled Kandahar region, which is now within reach. Nafas and Hayat both don burkas and join an all-female wedding party, hoping to slip past any Taliban sentries that they might meet along the way.

Black-clad females working with the Taliban search the wedding party for paraphernalia that goes against their strict Koranic beliefs. 

Upon nearing Kandahar, the wedding party is met by several Taliban guards. After searching the entire party for any contraband that they deem defies strict Islamic law, the guards pull several members of the party aside, including Hayat, whom they have uncovered as a man. Hayat joins the other separated members, and we are left to wonder what punishments face them.

Nafas gets past the guards and rejoins the wedding party. Now, with the sun setting on the final day before the eclipse, Nafas can see Kandahar in the distance.

My Take on the Film (Done before any further research)

Kandahar is certainly a hard-hitting film, and one that is still just as relevant as it was upon its release over a decade ago. While I can quibble over the technical merits of it as a film, the subject matter will force anyone, especially anyone in the United States, to take notice, considering how our country is still embroiled in a seemingly never-ending war in Afghanistan.

The only real demerits that can count deal with the acting and an occasional lack of clarity. The acting, I assume out of necessity, is not of the highest quality. It seems that the filmmaker opted to use authentic, amateur actors, in order to convey authenticity. The actors, I assume, are all Afghans. I also assume that, in such a war-torn area, the talent pool for actors is quite shallow. As such, the deliveries of lines are not always very natural.

The lack of clarity only emerges from viewers possibly not knowing much about strict Islamic laws and cultural patterns. I, myself, know just enough about the harsh rules imposed upon women in this part of the world, especially in the Taliban-controlled areas such as Kandahar, so I understood why the doctor Tabib needed a sheet between himself and the women he was treating. There are many other cultural norms that might seem puzzling to a viewer unfamiliar with them, and there are not really expositions given to explain them. Of course, this also solidifies just how these things are norms for these people, so explicit explanation would likely come off as being unnatural.

The highly memorable and perplexing moment when Tabib meets and "examines" Nafas. The sheet is meant to prevent a Muslim man from laying eyes on any woman who is not his wife.

Aside from these two areas, the movie is incredibly effective. The world that Nafas must negotiate in order to reach her sister is truly saddening and terrifying. They are all the more-so because they were and are still the reality for many people in this part of the world. There are more than a few scenes that, once you see them, you’re unlikely to ever forget. The scenes in which the young boy Khak is expelled from the Koranic school are just a few examples. Seeing rows and rows of young boys being fully brainwashed to alternately recite the Koran and give descriptions of the various weapons that they are holding (including sabers and machine guns) is harrowing. Scenes like this give some explanation as to why this country has never been conquered in history – a strictly-enforced, unwavering inculcation into religious zealotry and warfare.

Other scenes are equally heart-breaking. The Afghan men with one or both legs lost to landmines. The widowed women sitting in the middle of a dusty graveyard, nothing more to do but keep themselves under their burkas and bemoan their lost family members. The large troop of women moving along the desert, fully covered with their strikingly vibrant burkas. The images are so arresting that one would be tempted to think that they are completely contrived and staged. However, I never felt this way. The sad truth is that I have little doubt that all of these scenes depict the brutal realities of the lives of these people.

One of the many unforgettably heart-breaking scenes in the film - when men missing legs from landmines rush across the desert plain to chase prosthetic limbs being air-dropped from planes flying overhead.

Kandahar is the kind of movie that every person should see at least once. It’s bound to not only raise one’s awareness of how much some people in the world struggle for mere survival, but it can also make one appreciate just how many liberties most of us have. The purpose of the filmmakers was clearly to show the rest of us just how many of the things that we take for granted have been reduced to unrealistic dreams for people in this particular part of the world. It’s not an enjoyable message to receive, but one that we should receive nonetheless.

Upon Further Review (Done after a little more research)

This film has a few incredible facts behind it, one of which is the single most shocking thing that I’ve read in relation to any of the nearly 100 films that I’ve reviewed for this site.

I watched a 20-minutes documentary on the film and learned a few extremely fascinating, and ever more upsetting, things about the film. But this did not contain the shocker.

The primary one is that the film’s star, Nelofer Pazira, is actually playing a very close version of herself. The story of Nafas is a very close approximation of her own life as an Afghan refugee who risked the highly dangerous return to her home country to try and find a friend who she was worried might kill herself out of despair. After receiving her journalism degree in Canada, Pazira, who was only in her late twenties at the time, went through and witnessed many of the situations depicted in the film. Amazing, but this was still not the major shocker.

Nelofer Pazira, in the middle of one of the countless speaking engagements she has done since the movie was released. She has since been a tireless spokeswoman for civil right in the home country from which she and her family fled.

Another point of interest is how the film vaulted to world consciousness. It was initially released in May and August of 2001 at a few film festivals, where it received solid critical acclaim. Then, of course, September 11^th of that year happened. All of a sudden, interest in the Taliban skyrocketed for obvious reasons. At this point, the film and Nelofer Pazira were launched into global awareness, and Pazira began a tireless series of public speaking engagements through which she informed people about the brutal realities in which she grew up and from which she and her family had escaped. It all puts a very real face, one that can be seen prominently, in the movie. This is all extremely important, but it is still not the major shock.

The major shock relates to the man billed as Hassan Tantai, who plays the doctor who assists Nafas. When you see the film, it is easy to note that the man has a pitch-perfect North American English accent. I couldn’t help wonder how a man from the U.S. ended up in an all-Afghan film. Here’s how: Hassan Tantai is a stage name for Dawud Salahuddin – one of the most notorious assassins in United States lore. His given name was David Belfield, and he was born in North Carolina to a southern Baptist family. He converted to Islam in the 1970s, adopted extremely conservative Muslim values, and earned the trust of the Republic of Iran’s secret service. In 1980, on U.S. soil, he assassinated a former Iranian diplomat who the Iranian secret service had said defamed the Ayatollah Khomeini. Salahuddin fled the U.S., his relationship with the U.S. has been murky ever since, though is still listed as “wanted” by the F.B.I.

Dawud Salahuddin, from U.S. citizen to Iranian assassin to actor. His is a strange life that begs the question why he was cast in the film. The director's words (below) help shed some light on the decision.

With all of this in mind, it was very interesting to see a quote from the film’s director, Mohsen Makhmalbaf. He said that Salahuddin, “…is also a victim – a victim of the ideal that he believed in. His humanity, when he opened fire against his ideological enemy, was martyred by his idealism.” Very profound and controversial ideas, indeed.

Knowing all of this, I can only hope that people take some valuable lessons from the film and Pazira’s story. Though it is technically a fictional drama, the reality that inspired it can only spur one to think far beyond what is seen in the 85 minutes of the film.

That’s a wrap. 99 shows down; 6 to go.

Coming Soon: The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

 

On a much brighter and more frivolous note, I next get to revisit Middle Earth, as Peter Jackson so wonderfully brought it to screens. 

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

Film #98: Ulysses' Gaze (1995)

Original Greek Title: To vlemma tou Odyssea

Director: Theo Angelopoulos

Initial Release Country: Greece

Times Previously Seen: none

Rapid-Fire Summary (no spoilers)

Successful, mixed-heritage film director takes a bizarre, dream-like journey through eastern Europe to track down reels of film. Looks awfully confused or pensive throughout.

Extended Summary (Spoilers included)

An American film director, unnamed in the film but credited as “A” (Harvey Keitel), goes to Greece to begin a search for three lost reels of film that were produced by the Manakis brothers in their earliest years as Yugoslavian filmmakers.

The first shot of the film, and the first of many sweeping shots that make effective use of negative space. On the left, "A" looks out over the sea at the beginning of his odyssey.

“A”s journey takes him from Greece to Albania, Macedonia, then Bulgaria, Romania, Belgrade, and finally Sarajevo. Along the way, various couriers’ and companions’ identities meld with “A”’s recollections of his own past in these areas, some of which he had spent time and emigrated from as a child. Relatives and lovers from his past emerge from his memory to interact with him once again. Within these dream-like moments, “A” relives past joys and sorrows, but never gives up his quest for the three Manakis brothers reels.

At the end of his journey, in a war-torn Sarajevo, “A” finds the man who has the reels – a film archivist who has nearly perfected the long-lost chemical formula that will allow him to properly develop the film. Shortly after he does this, though, he and his family are shot and killed in the middle of a firefight on the city streets. “A” sadly returns to the blasted movie theater to watch the films, only to find that they are blank, offering only vacuous white screens.

My Take on the Film (Done before any further research)

More than once while watching this one, the words “inaccessible” came to my mind. Not that I was completely baffled by Ulysses’ Gaze, but there was clearly much more going on than I was able to grasp on this single, first viewing. There are clearly many themes and elements of great depth presented in the movie, and there is a hypnotic quality to its presentation that is compelling enough for me to make the effort for its full three hours. On the whole, though, I’m not sure that I would watch it again, and I certainly cannot recommend it to any but the most patient and avid fans of film.

The story of “A”s quest for the reels of film is interesting enough, as it sets up the traditional “quest” plot device. The film’s title is the first clear indication that Homer’s grand epic, The Odyssey, is a major inspiration. Of course, “A” is not traversing the Aegean Sea and besting monsters or other mythological hazards to return home. “A”s journey is a metaphorical search for his psychological and artistic roots, and he has to move past very real dangers in the highly treacherous Balkan regions in the middle of war-ravaged 1990s. This grand theme is fairly interesting, as it is only revealed in bits and pieces as the film moves along.

"A" rows his "Circe" along the river. His interaction with her is one of the more bizarre among the several time- and person-warping interactions that he has along the way.

The pace and tone of the film are what will tax many a viewer’s patience. In a style that I can best compare to the films I’ve seen of Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky, Angelopoulos uses many slow, measured, and meditative shots to draw in the viewer. I found these quite effective, as it gave me time to ponder the ultimate meaning of “A”s actions and purposes, as well as mull over the stunning compositions placed within the camera’s frames. Like the Tarkovsky films Andrei Rublev, Stalker, and others, Ulysses’ Gaze demands that the viewer embrace the quieter, slower moments in order to allow a certain moody gravity to overcome him or her. Most of the time, it works very well. However, there were a few times when it seemed slightly pretentious or contrived to me. I have to admit to occasionally suspecting being hoodwinked by the notion that just because the filmmaker isn’t spelling it all out for you, you must be missing something. I’ve found that, in my case, this is actually true at times. Sometimes, I am missing something, and maybe that was true when I was watching this film. Whether for this reason or simple impatience on my part, I found myself trying to urge the film forward at times.

From what I could tell, the visuals are fairly amazing. However, there is a caveat here. This film is, oddly enough for the 21^st century, extremely difficult to get a hold of. It has not been in print for several years, and there really has not been a well-produced restoration done to my knowledge, which does not allow the film to be seen in all of its majesty. From the mediocre-quality DVD that I was able to procure, it is clearly a film that would be best served by being seen on the big screen. The sweeping shots of the blasted landscapes, meandering rivers, and foggy streets of the Balkan regions convey a bleakness that seems part and parcel of the mental distress that “A” is battling through. Had I been able to watch a higher-quality copy, I might have even more praise for this aspect of the movie.

The acting is rather strange. I love Harvey Keitel, and he often shows a decent amount of range. However, I’m not sure if he was the best choice for this role. Whether through his own interpretation or at the behest of the director, he shows odd shifts in demeanor, posture, and emotion as the story moves on. At many times, it is clear that these shifts represent “A” psychologically shuffling between his present quest and his past memories as son, lover, and brother. During most of the “modern” scenes, though, he delivers his lines as if he were in a trance. I realize that this is probably what the story calls for, as an urge far greater than himself is pulling him towards the Manakis brothers’ film reels, but I found that it almost dehumanized him. This was especially the case when the other modern character around him were acting much more naturally. Added to this is that Keitel, in his many roles in U.S. films, is one of the greatest “naturalistic” actors of the past several decades. A final puzzling thing to me about Keitel’s casting is my question of “Why him?” For much of the film, he’s delivering lines in English or short phrases in Greek, while almost everyone else is speaking the local languages. I suppose that this is likely another layer of the story that I failed to grasp, but it was a bit disorienting.

This is often how Keitel looks in this film - staring off into the distance, while others try to interact with him in more natural, organic ways. It fits the tone of the movie at times, but during some moments, it simply baffled me.

I have to say that, if nothing else, Ulysses' Gaze is a novel film that suggests great depth. I have no doubt that there were more than a few elements and strata that were simply over my head, which led to a bit of frustration and impatience as I viewed it. Still, I enjoyed the process of attempting to piece together the different visual, narrative, and thematic elements in the movie. I certainly was not completely successful, so that I currently have a disjointed impression of the film. I hope that the next section of this review will remedy this…

Upon Further Review (Done after some further research on the film):

I did this portion of the review after reading this very thorough and insightful synopsis at the Internet Movie Database.

Well, it’s quite clear that I missed several key elements that the director implemented. In short, if you plan to watch this movie, there are two things that will help: (1) a general knowledge of Homer’s Odyssey, and (2) patience. When one keeps these in mind, it becomes easier to see why the list-creators at TIME decided to include this film on their “All-TIME Great Films” list.

While I was watching it, I was able to pick up several of the plot points and interactions that mirrored Odysseus’s epic journey to Ithaca. There are many characters who represent the long-archetypal roles of Penelope, Calypso, Telemachus, and many others from the Greek classic tale. However, there are even more that I did not pick up on. One such is how “A”s journey into Sarajevo represents Odysseus’s descent into Hades. Obvious really, when it’s pointed out to you. If a viewer has a rich knowledge and love of the source material, then watching this film would provide a very deep experience.

Another thing that the author of the review points out is some of Angeloupolos’ film style. Beyond just giving a mere synopsis, the writer explains some of the deeper meaning of the long periods of silence in the film, confirming my suspicion that these are meant for the viewer to contemplate far beyond the mere screen action. We are constantly reminded that the region of the Balkans has a rich and often sad history. The long, slow shots give ample time for the mood and weight to settle into our minds. These realizations also give “A”s journey more meaning, as he remains steadfast, despite every sign that tells him to turn back.

A scene from Sarajevo - the "Hades" of "A"s Odyssey. These scenes are obviously and carefully staged, which will put off some viewers. For those who look beyond the unnatural setup and focus on what things represent, the film becomes much more engaging.

As profound as this film is, I still cannot say that I would rush to watch it again. Knowing now much more about the symbolism throughout, I would consider it. However, I would only do so if it were restored to a very high quality. The settings are already dreary enough, without having to watch them on a low-quality print. This one would be a prohibitive recommendation.

That’s a wrap. 98 shows down, 7 to go.

Coming Soon: Kandahar (2001)

Another film that I know almost nothing about. I know it involves Afghanistan and the Taliban, two hot-button topics even today, over a decade after this film was made. We’ll see how it stacks up.

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

Film # 74: Barry Lyndon (1975)

Director: Stanley Kubrick

Initial Release Country: United States

Times Previously Seen: once (about 12 years ago)

*Weird, Egotistical Note: After now watching 74 shows from TIME’s “100 All-TIME Films” list, this is the first film released within my lifetime. Funny to think that, as viewers were seeing this movie for the very first time, I was wailing away in a crib on a military base in South Carolina.

Teaser Summary (No spoilers)

18^th century Irish commoner spends lots of time on many rungs of the social ladder. Duels and massive decorative hats abound.

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

What follows is a fairly complete summary. For a meticulously detailed synopsis, check out imdb’s version through this link.

Late 18^th century Ireland. Redmond Barry (Ryan O’Neal) is a young lad whose father is killed in a duel. He soon falls in love with his cousin, Nora, who returns his affection readily. However, when Nora accepts a marriage proposal from a stately, if uppity, English officer, Barry becomes furious. He insults the officer to the point of demanding a duel. Barry shoots the officer, seemingly killing him. On the advice of his cousins and his second, an Irishman in the English army named Grogan, he flees his hometown for Dublin, hoping to escape the inevitable pursuit of the law.

Langdon getting held up as he flees from the English army.

On the way to Dublin, Barry is robbed of all but his clothing. Desperate for any kind of escape, he joins the British army and heads off to war. After a few brief skirmishes and witnessing the death of his lone friend, the rediscovered Grogan, Barry decides to desert his post. Using a stolen officer’s uniform and identification papers, Barry enters Prussian-controlled areas near Holland. His hope is to return to Ireland.

Instead, he is captured by a savvy Prussian officer, Captain Potzdorf (Harry Kruger), and forced to join the Prussian army. Barry spends several years with Prussian forces, among a regiment composed mostly of scoundrels and cold-blooded killers. From these, Barry learns the cold means of survival and the arts of deceit. In one particular battle, Barry saves Potzdorf. This act is rewarded with back-handed recognition, a reward, and some small measure of trust.

Barry is recruited by Potzdorf and the Prussian Minister of Police to keep tabs on a suspected spy, a gambler of Irish origin named the Chevalier de Balibari (Patrick Magee). Barry readily accepts; however, upon meeting the Chevalier, he becomes emotional in the company of a fellow countryman and betrays his true mission. The Chevalier takes him in and the two become co-conspirators. Barry helps the Chevalier cheat nobles in games of chance, at the same time feeding the Prussian government useless information about his new confidant.

Eventually, Barry and the Chevalier manage to concoct a ruse to escape from Prussia unscathed. They then spend several years traveling around Europe. The Chevalier continues to cheat wealthy aristocrats out of their money, and Barry assists by successfully dueling any reluctant debtors.

Barry plies his trade as a master duelist, a perfect profession for any amoral rogue with the necessary skills.

Barry eventually sets his sights higher – true wealth in the form of the English countess Lady Lyndon, whom he meets at a gambling table. Barry courts the married Lady, which infuriates her aged and decrepit husband. The Lord Lyndon is so enraged, in fact, that when he starts an argument with the calculating Barry, he dies of a heart attack. This leaves the way wide open for Barry to swoop in and marry the love-struck Lady Lyndon and assume his new title – Barry Lyndon.

Over the next several years, Barry’s married life on his wife’s English estate disintegrates. While his wife stays home and looks after her son from her first marriage, Sir Charles, and hers and Barry’s son, Bryan, Barry himself lives a life of opulent leisure. His excessive drinking and philandering does not go unnoticed by his step-son, Sir Charles. Though merely ten years old when his mother remarries, the boy quickly develops acute hated for his rogue of a stepfather. This hatred only grows stronger as time passes.

Within these years, Barry’s mother comes to live with them and she points out how Barry needs to attain his own title, thus decreasing his total reliance on his wife’s fortune. Following this advice, Barry begins to spend lavishly on art, parties, and greasing the social wheels for his ascendancy into “higher spheres” of social worth. Things seem to be moving in the right direction until, at a party on the Lyndon estate, Lord Charles bursts in and announces his utter hatred for his stepfather in front of the guests. The enraged Barry mercilessly attacks his step son and pummels him in front of their guests. Word soon spreads of Barry’s brutality, and his “friends” completely ostracize him.

Barry turns his attentions toward his natural son, Bryan. As opposed to his horrid treatment of Lord Charles, Barry showers Bryan with true love and affection. Unfortunately, Bryan suffers a terrible horse riding accident just before his ninth birthday and dies a few days after. Barry and Lady Lyndon are so distraught that Barry’s mother must take over the family’s finances. When she dismisses Lady Lyndon’s closest associate, the vicar Reverend Runt, word gets out to Lord Charles, who has been living away from his family’s estate after the beating received at the hands of his stepfather.

Barry in the center of the frame, Attempting to drown his sorrow over his son's death. Little does he know that things are about to get even worse...

Lord Charles, supported by some of his family’s close friends, seeks out Barry and challenges him to a duel. In a secluded barn, Lord Charles wins the right to the first shot, but misfires. Upon his chance to return fire and likely kill Lord Charles, Barry opts to fire his pistol into the ground. Lord Charles, instead of being satisfied, demands another shot. He takes it and hits his stepfather in the leg. Barry is taken to a nearby inn for treatment, while Lord Charles rushes back to his family estate and quickly reasserts control over the household.

Barry must suffer his leg being amputated. More than this, though, he is given an ultimatum from Lord Charles – leave England forever and accept a 500 guineas annuity from the Lyndon family, or stay and suffer arrest on the grounds of his massive debts. Barry leaves England, and we are told that he returned to continental Europe to return to the gambling profession, “without his previous success”.

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

A story about this viewing of Barry Lyndon:

My girlfriend and I sit down a few evenings ago to watch it. The film moves on at its’ leisurely pace and time clicks on. At roughly the 90-minute mark, the “Intermission” screen pops up. My girlfriend goes slightly slack, her eyes widen, her jaw drops, and she asks, “How long is this movie?!” With a semi-knowing grin, I turn and reply, “It’s three hours long. We’ve got 90 more minutes to go.” Eyes still wide, she shakes her disbelieving head. After hanging in for another 30 minutes or so, she gives up and goes to bed. I stay up and watch the full film, enjoying it right up until the end.

This little tale of our viewing I think sums up how nearly all people feel about Barry Lyndon – you either love it, or you see it as too long and dull to take. Clearly, I am in the former group.

I have to say that this is one of those movies that you have to know what you’re in for and be in just the right state of mind to watch. Barry Lyndon is slow. Extremely slow. Kubrick took the approach of relying far less on dialogue and far more on slow zooms of panoramic landscapes and interiors. If you prefer more kinetic action and emotional dialogue, the three-hour Barry Lyndon will be an effort in frustration. I, however, love watching the movie. The lush colors, attention to detail, and expansive wide-angle shots are like classic works of art slowly coming to life (emphasis on “slowly”). The beauty of the natural surroundings, castles, and costumes throws into contrast the dastardly deeds that people are committing throughout the film.

This is the very first shot of the film, both in filming terms and in dueling terms. The entire visual style and story theme are set up within this shot - breathtaking beauty wholly encompassing human destruction.

The story itself is epic in scale, and I’m a sucker for a good epic. Following the roughly twenty-year rise and fall of Langdon Barry is a spectacle, as it allows the viewer to traipse through the Europe of William Makepeace Thackeray (the author of the source novel). To be sure, there is some interpersonal exploration done, but the movie is mostly given to sweeping powers of the times - war and class distinction – and their effects on humanity.

One of the recurring themes in the film is the duel, and it is these scenes that are most striking and intense to me. While all of the duel scenes (three with pistols, one with swords) are incredibly hypnotizing, it is the final one between Barry and his stepson, Lord Charles Bullingdon, that is an absolute masterpiece. The measured ritual with which the scene plays out and the very visible terror on the face of Bullingdon are perfection. The scene plays out with agonizing deliberation, forcing you to get into the heads of those involved. Once you do this, it’s not difficult to imagine just how terrifying a prospect it must have been to stare at someone standing ten paces from you, and you stared into their eyes just before they killed you or vice versa. It’s a version of Sergio Leone’s extended western gunfights, though a far more chilling one.

Guiding us through Barry’s journeys is a bemused narrator. As a rule, I find narration in films to be something of a crutch, borrowed from the realm of literature. Films should be able to tell their stories through visuals and dialogue. However, there are a few films in which it can enhance, and Barry Lyndon is a mixed bag. At times, the narrator’s commentary is tinged with sly gallows humor that I can only guess was Thackeray’s and which adds some welcome levity. In other moments, it does indeed seem a cheap way out of conveying humor or emotion directly through the characters’ words or actions.

Barry, we are told by other character and the narrator, is a hot-blooded young man. You'd hardly know it from his face here, which is the same bland expression he wears through nearly the entire film.

This downplay (or lack of) emotional dialogue is probably one clear reason that people may not like this movie. There is an overall stillness to the movie, save perhaps a few scenes of warfare and brief fighting. Knowing that Kubrick was a meticulous perfectionist, I am quite sure that this was intentional, and this tranquility pervades even to the acting. Even during tense confrontations and emotional moments, everything is very placid. While this is soothing in most places, after about two-and-a-half hours, the characters almost seem devoid of any real feeling.

This sensation of dead calm would not be so obvious if not for the performance of the title character actor, Ryan O’Neal. Some of the film’s minor characters do actually show more spirit. In stark contrast, O’Neal’s facial expression almost never changes throughout the movie, which leaves the viewers to rely on the narrator and guesswork to glean Barry’s true desires. Perhaps we viewers are supposed to take this as an outward sign of Barry’s emotional detachment, but it really just comes off as flat and unengaging most of the time.

This brings up the other reason most people probably dislike this movie. The morning after I watched it, my girlfriend and I discussed it. As she considered how Barry is a mostly despicable character, she rightfully wondered, “What’s the point?” I imagine countless other viewers have asked the same question. When I ponder the answer, I always return to the epigram of the film:

With this final message, we are left to wonder perhaps not about the point of the movie, but rather about the point of all of the violence and pain depicted in the movie. Violence and pain that certainly was based on real actions of the times. In watching Redmond Barry get caught up in the materialism and territorial struggles of his age, I can’t help but think of a movie critic who suggested something very cogent about Stanley Kubrick’s films. Kubrick’s movies, while covering a vast spectrum of genres, including war, action, science fiction, horror, and drama, all had the same basic message underlying them: humans are not fallen angels, but rather ascendant apes. Barry Lyndon, like all of Kubrick’s other films, shows just how not just one person but an entire society can slip into barbarism. Even when the players are dressed in the finest of clothes, living in the plushest of mansions, and possessing the most stunning of lands, they are no less capable of the basest primitive cruelties.

A happy message, it is not. But it is certainly one worth pondering. Barry Lyndon gives you the chance to calmly mull it over while drinking in the cultural splendor of a bygone age. It’s not for everyone, but I’d recommend everyone at least watch the 90-minute first act and find out for themselves.

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

A few surprises on things that I’ve found (and not found) in reading up a little more in Barry Lyndon.

The movie was, as mentioned, based on a far lesser known novel my William Makepeace Thackeray, who is now far better known for Vanity Fair. Barry Lyndon, though, is often referred to as the first “anti-hero” English novel. Kubrick clearly kept this idea true to its roots. Kubrick also kept the setting and characters basically the same, though he took out a few family connections that were in the novel. One such is that the Chevalier de Balibari (as I probably should have figured, based on the name) is, in the book, actually an uncle of Barry’s who had fled Ireland. The novel’s tale goes that he was kicked off his land and dispossessed by the Lyndons themselves, into whose family Langdon marries much later. This is probably a more interesting plot connection, and I wonder why Kubrick left it out. Perhaps he felt it far too convenient, but who knows?

Another interesting departure from the novel is that the film ends significantly before the novel’s tale, with several notable differences. In the film, the story ends just after Barry is shot and loses his leg in the duel with Lord Charles, and he is forced to leave England, accepting his modest annuity. In the book, the duel does not exist, and Barry actually becomes a member of British parliament. He sends his step-son to the Americas to fight in the Revolutionary War, and is accused of trying to have his son killed. He is stripped of his title and forced out of the country. Eventually, he is jailed for debts and spends the final seventeen years of his life in prison, with only his elderly mother to attend him. Obviously, Kubrick couldn’t tell all of this story using the measured pace that he wanted, so he chucked it.

A fairly recent edition of Thackeray's original novel. Kubrick was faithful to most key elements, but made several notable changes.

Another interesting difference between novel and film is the tone. From what I’ve read on it, Thackeray’s novel is told in first person by Barry himself, with an overtly humorous tone. In it, Barry is an early example of the “unreliable narrator”, who seems oblivious to his own shortcomings. Kubrick eschewed this and achieved a much more objective look at the character and his world. This accounts for the very detached feeling of the movie.

When released, Barry Lyndon was something of a disappointment. While it did pull in seven Academy Award nominations (winning four in the technical categories of art direction, costumes, cinematography, and music) and received fair critical acclaim, it did not win over all critics or the public, especially those with high expectations of Stanley Kubrick. In his original review in 1975, Roger Ebert probably summed up a lot of the feeling of the day. He described it as having “the arrogance of genius” and lauds its many brilliant merits. He does, however, note of O’Neal’s performance that “Kubrick has directed Ryan O’Neal in the title role as if he were a still life. It's difficult to imagine such tumultuous events whirling around such a passive character.” This is really the only critical note I found of O’Neal’s flat-line turn as Barry.

In recent years, Barry Lyndon has gradually gained more attention as one of the greatest of films. More and more, critics seem to be willing to see its cold, calm tone not as an example of a bad decision on Kubrick’s part but rather a very unique and artistic way of observing and telling a human story. One can call it hopeless or dreary, and I can’t necessarily argue, but I have to say that I will always find it mesmerizing.

That’s a wrap 74 shows down. 31 to go.

Coming Soon: Taxi Driver (1976)

Oh, boy. Anyone who’s seen this movie knows that it contains every ounce of dark despair that the mid-1970s United States could muster. It’s also an incredible piece of film making, and the first of three Martin Scorsese movies on the list. Come on back in about a week or so to see what I make of my return to the sad tale of Travis Bickle.

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