March 2007 mini-reviews

3/27- The Lookout (2007, Scott Frank) [6] {I'm really digging this bearded character-actor phase that Jeff Daniels is in. Thinking about this performance and The Squid and the Whale makes me feel a little sick every time I see him in crap like RV. And Joseph Gordon-Levitt is doing work as good as anyone in his age bracket right now- can't wait to see what happens when a real big-league filmmaker gets his hands on him.}

3/25- One, Two, Three (1961, Billy Wilder) [****] {I was actually kind of unsure of my feelings about this an hour into it. But the final 45 minutes are as flawless a big-screen farce as I've ever seen. Wilder's only rival for great comic endings was Preston Sturges in his prime.}

3/24- Labyrinth (1986, Jim Henson) [**1/2] {As fantasy, it's only pretty good, but it's sort of fascinating as a fable about a young girl on the cusp of womanhood. Bowie's hypersexualized performance is campy as hell, but in this context it makes sense- his ever-bulging junk makes his sexuality undeniable, a constant reminder that he symbolizes worldly adulthood. The film's final scene sums it up nicely- Jennifer Connelly has to leave childhood behind, but the friends and memories of her youth will be there whenever she needs them.}

3/22- Culloden (1964, Peter Watkins) [***1/2] {one of the most astonishing things about Watkins' film is the way they all seem so cool and clinical in tone yet manage to be so angry if you pay attention. In the case of CULLODEN, I wouldn't have batted an eyelash had Watkins decided to play Bob Dylan's "Masters of War" under the credits.}

3/21- Flannel Pajamas (2006, Jeff Lipsky) [6] {Neither party is innocent here- Justin Kirk's character starts off as kind of a jerk, but he actually ends up investing more emotionally in the relationship as the years pass, especially after Julianne Nicholson has written it off. By the way, Nicholson is so hot. It's the freckles- something about freckly skin does it for me. It's like when I watch the scenes in WOMAN IN THE DUNES in which Kyoko Kishida's skin is covered with sand- both the sand and the freckles make looking at bare skin practially tactile in itself. I imagine running my hands across skin in a way I wouldn't with more uniformly-complected skin.}

Imitation of Life (1959, Douglas Sirk)

I may be underrating this, actually. This really is moving as all hell. I've read complaints that the Lana Turner stuff pales in comparison to the Juanita Moore/Susan Kohner subplot. But of COURSE it does, and I'm sure Sirk knew it, and this contrast- between the troubles of a working class black woman and her light-skinned daughter, and the relatively small worries of a well-to-do white mother and daughter- is what makes this movie work. Lora's dreams come true and her daughter Susie whines that she was never around; meanwhile Annie (ambition is a luxury she can't afford) and Sarah Jane aren't even speaking in the end. Yet Sirk never patronizes or belittles any of the characters' problems. And of course the direction is wicked awesome. Rating: ***1/2.

The Producers (1968, Mel Brooks)

Everyone knows this is hilarious, not least in the way gradually unveils funny supporting characters one at a time as the film builds to opening night. But wait! Is it just me, or is THE PRODUCERS also kind of a touching man-man love story? Think about it- Bialystock the seedy has-been who whores himself out to old ladies, and Bloom the uptight bookworm. Where is the love in their lives? Once they've met and formulated the plan, they're rarely apart. Think of their first day together- they go walking in the park, riding on the carousel, to the movies, and finally for a frolic in the Lincoln Center fountain. Sure, once the money starts piling up, Max brings Ulla into the picture, but she's just for decoration, just another trapping of success- Max's way of "flaunting" what he's got. And is Max and Leo's nervousness when they visit Roger DeBris simple gay panic, or something more complicated- the fear that they'll be found out, or that they too might end up a pair of mincing theatre queens? I'm serious here, folks. By the end of the film, the two have formed a real relationship, with Max no longer living in the past and Leo opening himself up to life's possibilities. And can it really be an accident that the film ends with a song called "Prisoners of Love"? Rating: ****.

Grown up Mystic Lightning - created by the Offspring