#130. Scrooge (1951)

 

 

A.K.A. A Christmas Carol, as it's known in the States (and presumably Canada, considering everyone I've ever discussed this movie with uses that title).

 

Prior Viewings: 4-5

 

We all have that one version of A Christmas Carol that we cherish most, the one that we hold especially dear because it introduced us to the character. Well, Scrooge is mine. It was always my dad's favourite, and I've shared that sentiment ever since we first watched it together.

 

Beyond nostalgia, part of the reason why I continue to love this telling is the eerie and foreboding tone (those ghosts creeped me out as a kid), as well as the deeper dive into the Christmas Past portion (which paints a more detailed portrait of the character). But let's not bury the lede here: the reason to watch this one is Alastair Sim, who, for my money, gives the greatest Scrooge performance of all time.

 

Some actors excel at the villainous stuff, while others are more believable in their redemption. Sim is one of the very few who nails both. You totally buy him when he's cantankerous and miserable (though, even in his worst moments, there's still something nakedly desperate about his expressions and deliveries that generates some sympathy), just as you totally buy him when he's doing headstands and laughing like a schoolboy. Wonderful performance, and one that really brings out the emotions of the story.

 

I'm sure I'll cover my share of adaptations over the coming Decembers, but this one will likely always be the gold standard in my eyes.

 

Grade: A

 

Merry Christmas, everyone!

#129. Four Brothers (2005)

 

 

This movie gets off to a real rough start. Like, actively bad. The opening robbery is ham-fisted and heavy-handed (immediately indicating to the viewer that subtlety won't exist for the next hundred minutes), the initial exposition is appallingly clunky, and the "emotional" moments lean so heavily on sentimental scoring that it actually started to embarrass me. Like, don't even get me started on that dinner table scene, where the ghost of these boys' mother starts talking to them. Jesus Christ.

 

But then, once the movie becomes a slightly more straightforward crime story, things begin to improve. Not to the point of actual quality, mind you (it's all still pretty poorly written, and Mark Wahlberg's macho posturing will never not be cringe-worthy), but the increase in both action and comedy make for a passably entertaining time. Bonus points for Chiwetel Ejiofor's unhinged performance and the ridiculously convoluted plot, both of which greatly add to the strange energy of the thing.

 

Good premise (I'll have to check out The Sons of Katie Elder at some point), decent story, passable camaraderie, middling execution. This is the first John Singleton movie I've seen, but I can already tell he was capable of better.

 

Grade: B-

 

#128. Murder by Decree (1979)

 

 

You're unlikely to find a mystery as cynical, paranoid, and gloomy as this. Welcome to the '70s, Sherlock Holmes.

 

Murder by Decree has a lot worth recommending. Christopher Plummer and James Mason are near-perfect as Holmes and Watson (especially Plummer, who brings a sense of sentimentality to the role that makes the character a lot more likeable than usual), the foggy London sets are wonderfully atmospheric, and I think the Jack the Ripper premise fits pretty seamlessly. So the foundation is solid.

 

Unfortunately, the mystery started to lose me after a while. I mean, I suppose it's sporadically thrilling, especially on the many occasions where our leads are in imminent danger, but I also thought it all unfolded a little too slowly and aimlessly (like, did we really need the Donald Sutherland stuff?) to ever get fully invested. And that final explanation/accusation scene is downright interminable.

 

Still, while the story didn't always grab me, I liked the darker tone and presentation - especially because they're sporadically offset by some winsome humour. For the rest of my life, I'll never be able to eat peas without thinking of this movie.

 

Grade: B

 

#127. White Christmas (1954)

 

 

I'm starting to notice a trend with these Golden-age Hollywood musicals. They always start off so warm and likeable, and then the magic starts to wear off a bit once the conflict is introduced.

 

The first forty-five minutes or so of White Christmas are adorably sweet (perhaps to a sickly degree, but I have no problem with it). The tone, the comedy, and the chemistry are all a joy to behold. But then we reach Vermont, and are presented with one of those tedious and bizarrely common misunderstanding subplots, and it really starts to harsh the mellow for me - especially because we have to spend upwards of half an hour watching these two romantic leads argue with each other over literally nothing.

 

Fortunately, everything else keeps spirits bright. The songs are still pleasant, the performances are still charming, and, most of all, the whole thing just looks fantastic. Between the VistaVision format (which this movie was apparently the very first to use), the Technicolor processing, and the beautiful sets, every single frame pops off the screen, really adding to the buoyant mood and colourful presentation.

 

Wouldn't have minded a little more Christmas, though. Outside of the title track and the closing scene, you might as well have called this movie Green Summer. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#126. Ms .45 (1981)

 

 

A.K.A. Angel of Vengeance. I like that title better, mainly because there's something about Ms .45 including a period before the 45 but not after the Ms that bugs me.

 

Exploitation can be a tough tightrope to walk. You need to incorporate all the typical hallmarks (violence, campiness, exaggerated acting), while still presenting a tender side - something the audience can root for. And Ms .45 strikes that emotional balance in the form of a vulnerable young character who gets pushed to her limits after being raped twice in the same day. Fun premise, right?

 

Actually, it is kinda fun. Once Thana decides she's gonna get some revenge, it's just scene after scene of her taking out her frustrations by shooting men in the head. And while it starts to get slightly repetitive after a while (and it feels like a bit of a copout that almost all of these guys are assholes who get what they deserve), it's still cathartic and entertaining stuff. And Abel Ferrara's scuzzy direction greatly adds to both the realism and the deranged state of mind.

 

Unlike King of New York or Bad Lieutenant, I can't see myself returning to this one all that often. But the action sure packs a similar punch, and Zoë Lund's powerful and emotive performance is right up there with the likes of Walken and Keitel.

 

Grade: B+

 

#125. Big Eyes (2014)

 

 

Tim... my man... what the hell happened?

 

If we hone in on the first decade or so of his career, Tim Burton is one of my all-time favourite filmmakers. Beetlejuice, Batman, and Batman Returns are all locks for my top 100, and Ed Wood has an outside chance of qualifying as well. And yet, I don't think I've loved - or even strongly liked - anything he's made this century.

 

For a long time, I thought his increasing reliance on CGI and Johnny Depp were largely to blame, but it clearly runs deeper than that, considering neither are present here and I still greatly disliked the movie. It's more like Burton has simply lost interest in bringing any kind of creativity or passion or originality to his work (which is an observation that would've sounded downright absurd in the '90s), hence why most of his recent output feels so lazy and half-assed.

 

Big Eyes is another in that increasingly long line. It's got the usual latter-day Burton flaws of uninteresting characters, cliched dialogue, and weak performances, and then chucks on the kind of lie-based conflict that I can't imagine anyone finding remotely fun to watch. And the result is a bland, tedious, uninspired mess. Frankly, if not for the fact that it looks a million times better than Alice in Wonderland, I'd call it possibly the weakest film of the man's career.

 

Grade: C-

 

P.S. Christoph Waltz is pretty terrible in this, but I'll concede that his courtroom antics are quite funny. Dude might've had a better non-Tarantino Hollywood career if he took on more roles that played to his comedic strengths.

 

#124. Mouse Hunt (1997)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 2-3

 

I was feeling a bit nostalgic, so I thought I'd return to this unhinged piece of mayhem. And it didn't disappoint. Actually, if anything, it went over even better than it did in my youth.

 

One thing I've learned about myself from years of endlessly rewatching the first three Home Alone movies is that I very much enjoy seeing cocky, dim-witted villains get their comeuppance at the hands of small underdogs. It's also part of the reason why I grew up loving Looney Tunes and Tom and Jerry (even if I was one of those precocious snobs who rooted for Tom). And that's pretty much the entire appeal of this one. Probably doesn't sound like much, but it's all I need, and Nathan Lane and Lee Evans (and Christopher Walken, in a fantastic cameo) are committed enough to ensure that the slapstick remains fresh and satisfying from beginning to end.

 

Also contributing to the quality of this thing is rookie Gore Verbinski, who gives the movie a gothic style and palette that wouldn't look out of place next to The Addams Family and Batman Returns (which, if you know anything about me, is extremely high praise). It's shockingly gorgeous to look at, in both architecture and cinematography, and it carries a dark-yet-whimsical tone and texture that hits my sweet spot. Might explain why I grew up to be such a big Coen Brothers fan.

 

Grade: A

 

#123. Odd Man Out (1947)

 

 

Carol Reed sure knew how to stylize these kinds of movies, didn't he? Much like The Third Man, Odd Man Out is heavy on dark tones, tactile settings, and political anxieties, with a lot of shadowy figures in trench-coats running down backlit alleys (maybe my single favourite noir trope). So, at least texturally, this one's for me.

 

Structurally, I'm not so sure. I mean, I like that the movie spends the first half-hour presenting itself as a straightforward heist thriller only to shuffle around to different perspectives and genres as it goes along, but I think my problem is that I'm not always interested in these new perspectives. For every one that works, there's probably two that feel like unnecessary padding. And it doesn't help that the pacing slows down considerably once the crime stuff is out of the way.

 

Still, I guess it all comes together pretty well, both because it turns this character's incapacitated state into something of a journey and because this journey slowly paints a distinct portrait of the entire community. And, again, even when I wasn't super invested in the story, I was always captivated by the vivid moods and compositions.

 

Plus, it's nice to see a little blood in something this old. Gives the movie an added edge. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#122. Fat City (1972)

 

 

Gotta give John Huston some credit: he knew how to keep up with the times. This movie is so aggressively '70s that you can practically smell the cigarettes and body odor.

 

Fat City is essentially the un-Rocky. It's bleak, it's unsentimental, and it never once makes you want to stand up and cheer (unless you're a big fan of alcoholism). Doesn't make for an especially lively or likeable movie, but it reeks of legitimacy. Every frame feels incredibly authentic and lived-in, and you really get the sense that these people are going to be stuck in their shitty situations forever, regardless of what they do.

 

I just wish the whole thing was a bit more focused. Despite the realism, it's all kinda soft and episodic for my liking, to the point where the material doesn't quite leave the impact that it probably should. As a domestic drama, I don't find any of these dynamics interesting or developed enough to care about (and it doesn't help that I think most of the characters are either bland or annoying), and, as a boxing movie, the bouts are almost laughably unconvincing. So a good chunk of it falls a bit flat for me.

 

Still, I can see why many people consider this to be among Huston's best work. The tone's unique, the point of view is distinct, and Stacy Keach gives a great performance. It's just too bad that there's a vaguely aimless vibe to the presentation that makes it difficult for me to latch onto anything.

 

Grade: B-

 

#121. Pale Rider (1985)

 

 

Here's how I know I'm getting older: I'm starting to love these formulaic westerns.

 

By the '80s, Pale Rider wouldn't have been anything new. It's basically just Clint Eastwood's take on Shane, with some spaghetti style and grounded realism sprinkled in. And yet, because the movie's about a quiet and mysterious (and possibly supernatural?) outsider who comes to town to save some poor villagers and take on a handful of evil capitalists, I was naturally riveted. Even with the slow burn storytelling and lack of action, the compelling drama and foreboding atmosphere was enough to keep me invested.

 

It also helps that Eastwood's direction is as rock-solid as it is. The storytelling is extremely fluid (to the point where even the cornier subplots work for me), the many landscape shots are breathtaking, and the score is so tense that it sounds like something out of a horror movie. Plus, the climax is absolutely worth the wait, with its wonderful suspense, brilliant use of blocking and staging, and well-earned action.

 

I feel like this one's long been overshadowed by Unforgiven, but it really wouldn't surprise me if, a few years and a handful of rewatches down the line, I consider them to be equals - or perhaps even give it the edge.

 

Grade: A

 

#120. Office Christmas Party (2016)

 

 

About time I started getting into the Christmas spirit, right?

 

Look, every criticism that's been thrown at this movie is completely warranted. The jokes are mostly cliches, the improv is tired and tedious, the physical comedy is marred by obvious CGI, and the resolution is dumb as hell. We're not exactly dealing with a masterpiece here. But you know what? I was in the mood for a silly little holiday comedy, and a silly little holiday comedy is exactly what I got.

 

Sure, that's maybe not the most bulletproof defense in the world, but I'm gonna stand by it. I tend to like these dark, deadpan Jason Bateman vehicles (Game Night might be my favourite comedy of the 2010s), and this one comes with added doses of lunacy and heartwarming sentimentality, not to mention some hamminess from the supporting cast. Your mileage may vary when it comes to deciding whether these qualities are infectious or irritating, but I enjoyed the unrestrained energy and goofiness, and thought it made for both a fun and cozy watch. It also made me laugh quite a bit.

 

Like a lot of "bad" Christmas comedies (Jingle All the Way and How the Grinch Stole Christmas come to mind), I think people will slowly come around to this one with each passing December.

 

Grade: B+

 

#119. The Whip and the Body (1963)

 

 

A.K.A. What! (its ridiculous United States release title) and Night is the Phantom (its much more understandable United Kingdom release title). 

 

It's hard to care about a movie's flaws when the aesthetics are this good.

 

Not only is The Whip and the Body a stylistic masterwork, complete with sumptuous sets, gorgeous lighting, vivid colours, a lush score (even if that main theme is probably repeated once too often), and some thick, heavy atmosphere, but it's also a mix of some of my favourite horror subgenres. The movie's a ghost story, a whodunit, and a gothic romance rolled into one.

 

I mean, when all those ingredients are on the table, on top of a fun Christopher Lee performance (though I think Daliah Lavi is the real standout here), I can forgive some awkward emoting and an occasionally meandering pace. Hell, even the ending is exactly what I was anticipating it to be, but I think the whole thing plays out with such hypnotic visual mystery, and utilizes such a fiery blend of strong emotions (which hits especially hard in this Italian soap opera setting), that I simply got lost in how beautiful and powerful and striking it all is.

 

Black Sunday and Blood and Black Lace may not've grabbed me much on a first viewing (we'll see how the rewatches go), but this one certainly did. You're back in my good graces, Bava.

 

Grade: A

 

#118. Gods and Monsters (1998)

 

 

When you're watching a movie about the dramatic final days of James Whale, director of horror classics like Frankenstein and The Invisible Man, you expect a lot in the way of stylistic embellishment. But while there are a few touches here and there (my favourite being Brendan Fraser's Creature-esque silhouette), it's really more of a personal story about three individuals who are in serious need of companionship. 

 

That's not only a relatable and compelling premise, but one that allows for a triple character study, which is wonderfully brought to life by Fraser, Lynn Redgrave, and, of course, Ian McKellen. Sure, the tone and conflict can get a little campy and overwrought at times, but these choices are pretty appropriate given the people involved, and they never get in the way of the relationships or their developments.

 

Even the BBC presentation (which admittedly makes the movie look like a British TV series) started working for me after a while. Gives the drama that much more tenderness and legitimacy.

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. Another thing this movie does quite well is resemblance-based casting. Young Jimmy looks just like McKellen, the guy playing Ernest Thesiger (the crazy doctor from Bride of Frankenstein) is a dead ringer, and you could easily convince me that they really got Liz Taylor to cameo as herself in that party scene.

 

#117. Thank You for Smoking (2005)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

It's always neat when a movie can gradually get you on the side of a character that you'd obviously detest in real life. Nick Naylor is a smarmy and unlikeable prick who goes to kids' classrooms and promotes smoking. I don't think he performs a single kind act throughout the entire runtime. And yet I still find myself rooting for him.

 

Part of that's obviously due to Aaron Eckhart, who can always be counted on to provide some charisma. But I think it also has a lot to do with the wittiness of the script and the snappiness of the movie's overall presentation. When the two converge, and they pit the character against other, more hypocritical corporations, it causes his lack of scruples to feel disarming and even a little aspirational. And it's in these moments that you realize how much you want to see this guy take them down.

 

My only major problem is that, between the short runtime, the largely underutilized supporting cast, and the consistently sarcastic tone, the whole thing feels a little thin and surface-level to me. But I guess that's acceptable when the satire's this sharp, funny, and convincing.

 

Grade: B+

 

#116. Smile (2022)

 

 

We're all aware that Smile is an extremely derivative movie (it's basically just the detective story from The Ring mixed with the tone and creature from It Follows), but I honestly don't mind that. Even putting aside my weakness for this brand of modern high-concept horror, the mood is pretty consistent, and Parker Finn's direction kept me on edge, so I'm willing to overlook some unoriginality.

 

Where I'm not quite as forgiving, though, is in the frustrating lack of energy and personality. The story often has a bit of a "going through the motions" vibe, to the point where you can tell that it's being adapted from a short, and the grey presentation makes the whole experience a lot blander and more forgettable than it needs to be. Like, I can understand that this is all supposed to be an allegory for trauma and regret (which is a trend that could really use some shaking up), but would it kill you to throw in a little flavour or style every once in a while? 

 

Ah well. I still found the movie pretty engrossing overall, enough so that I'm probably gonna check the sequel out at some point. I just hope that one leans a little harder on the inherent silliness of this subject matter. 

 

Grade: B

#115. Shadows and Fog (1991)

 

 

Even when you put aside the controversies, I wouldn't call myself a Woody Allen fan. Like, the guy can be kinda funny sometimes, I guess, but I mostly just find him smug and irritating. And, to me at least, his movies often seem like they're so focused on being intelligent and cultured that they don't leave much room for anything interesting or memorable. 

 

That's basically how I feel about Shadows and Fog, too. As far as I can tell, this one really only exists so that Allen can run wild with German Expressionism for 80 minutes. There's very little story (and what's there isn't nearly as interesting as it should be), the subject matter is old hat, and the large cast is completely wasted. Even most of the jokes don't really land.

 

I'll give him this much, though: the movie sure looks the part. Yeah, the angles and camera movements don't remotely resemble the films he's attempting to replicate, but the soundstage sets, hazy imagery, and black & white photography are all gorgeous, and they really go a long way in establishing the proper atmosphere. It's just a shame that this style ultimately isn't in service of much. 

 

Grade: C+

 

#114. Dragonwyck (1946)

 

 

This is one of those Gothic period melodramas, similar in story and style to Wuthering Heights and Rebecca. And, just like those two comparables, it works best when it leans into the quiet (and sometimes not so quiet) eeriness of its setting.

 

When we're trapped in this hauntingly beautiful titular castle, with its towering sets, spooky vibes, unsettling music, and creepy (is there any other kind?) turn from Vincent Price, we reach that level of dark pomp and circumstance that I find atmospherically irresistible. And the whole thing's captured with such glowing cinematography and measured pacing that it's hard to believe this was Joe Mankiewicz's first movie.

 

Well, okay, you can sometimes tell. The tone's not as consistent as I'd like, and the passage of time could've been communicated a lot better (months frequently pass out of nowhere, and minor characters [including one or two who seem kinda vital] completely vanish from the story without explanation). But while the overall execution is far from perfect, I think the scenes that focus on building character and mood mostly are.

 

Grade: B+

 

#113. Thirst (2009)

 

 

Something I like about vampire stories is that there's about a million unique directions you can take with the subject matter, and almost all of them are interesting. It can be a comedy about change, a romance about lust, a drama about guilt/mortality, or simply a thriller about bloodsucking monsters. And the wonderful thing about Thirst is that it manages to fall under every single category simultaneously.

 

Like, the ambition here is just remarkable. Every time you think the movie has locked into its genre/plot, it suddenly swerves into a completely different tonal lane. I suppose you could argue that the result is kinda messy, with a few too many strings being pulled at once, but I found it all incredibly fresh, diverse, riveting, and unpredictable, thanks especially to Park Chan-wook's lively and energetic (not to mention funny and creepy and horny) direction.

 

Shamefully, this is the first Asian film I've reviewed on this blog, and I really need to make a concerted effort to ensure that I don't go another 112 posts before watching the next one - especially if I can expect similar results.

 

Grade: A

 

#112. The Navigator (1924)

 

 

Thus far, the silent films I've covered haven't exactly rocked my world, so I thought I'd return to ol' faithful.

 

More than maybe any comic actor prior to... god, the seventies?, Buster Keaton still manages to make me laugh. It's all there in his stone face, limber body, flawless timing, and legitimately certifiable stunts. And even if his films lack the plotting and emotional depth of, say, a Chaplin movie, I think it's precisely that jokes-come-first prioritization that continues to make him so likeable and watchable (and besides, who really cares about plot in something like this?).

 

Of course, that's not to say that The Navigator is structurally flawless. It takes a little too long to get going (especially given the runtime), and much of the third act conflict with the cannibals has obviously not aged well. But everything in between - i.e. Keaton and Kathryn McGuire on the boat - is pure bliss. It's nothing but physical comedy and clever prop work, which is exactly what we came for.

 

There's also something I find especially cozy about this one. Probably has a lot to do with my love of large and largely empty settings (think The Overlook in The Shining, or the mall in Dawn of the Dead), of which this boat is a perfect example. It's grand and intimate at the same time, which adds an extra layer of warmth and comfort to the humour, in my opinion.

 

Grade: A

 

#111. The Last Detail (1973)

 

 

If you wanted to make an anti-establishment movie in the '70s (and it was pretty common practice at the time), you weren't gonna find a more perfect lead than Jack Nicholson. Everything about the guy screams anger, rebellion, and controlled insanity, so he's perfect for a script about powerless men who want to fight the system but know deep down that they never will.

 

It's a somber premise, frankly, and neither Robert Towne nor Hal Ashby shy away from this futility. But they're also willing to indulge in some beer-soaked shenanigans for the time being, with the result being an entertaining and exhausting little odyssey, one that strikes a great balance between comedy and drama (especially because, no matter how silly or stupid the antics get, you never once forget what they're doing or why they're doing it).

 

I also just love the look of this movie. It's got some great wintery atmosphere, and it makes heavy use of long takes and dissolves, all of which emphasize the length of the journey, the sluggish stupor these poor guys find themselves in, and the bleakness of their future. It's simple, straightforward, and character-rich storytelling, which is precisely how I like it. Know what I mean?

 

Grade: A+

#110. Mud (2012)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

The first time I saw this one, it mostly missed me. I don't know if that's because I fell victim to my own expectations or if I was simply hoping for a snappier story, but, either way, it didn't make much of an impression. Now that I've given it a second chance, though, I think I've fallen in love with it.

 

Mud might be quiet and tentative, but it also plays out with such subtle suspense and ambiguous character motivation that every single scene thoroughly gripped me this time around. And because Jeff Nichols examines his coming-of-age themes and ideas through subdued interactions, isolated settings, uneasy atmospheres, and beautiful imagery, it results in a take on love and its complexities that's as poignant and thrilling as it is heartfelt.

 

If you, like me, didn't have much of a reaction to this one after a single viewing, I'd highly recommend a rewatch. Once I knew what tone and pace to anticipate, I couldn't get enough of the way everything gradually unfolded, and felt as though I could've watched these characters in this setting forever. 

 

Grade: A+

 

#109. Only You (1994)

 

 

Marisa Tomei, Robert Downey Jr., and Bonnie Hunt in the same romantic comedy? Yes please.

 

Only You mostly isn't anything special. It's cheesy, it's kinda trope-heavy, and it's got one of those scripts where at no point does a single character behave like an actual human being. And yet, I dunno, there's a lightness to the movie that manages to turn these potential irritants into minor virtues.

 

A lot of that comes down to the casting (which, again, is fantastic), as well as the setting (even if Italy's a total cheat code in this genre), but I think it's also because the movie wisely runs on emotion instead of logic. It plays out like like a bit of a fairy tale in that sense, which allows us to put aside the cynicism and flaws, and instead get swept up in the sweet romance.

 

My sister's been recommending this one to me for years now, and I'm glad I finally got around to it. Sure, a few of the cliches are still kinda tedious, and, yeah, the premise definitely starts to run out of steam after a while, but the whole thing's so warm and light and fun that it made me smile more often than it didn't. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#108. Candyman (2021)

 

 

As horror remakes go, this one's got some pretty solid direction. Between the striking camerawork, the moody score, and the dark undertones, Nia DaCosta establishes some wonderful atmosphere, right down to one of the better opening credits sequences I've seen in a while. But the movie starts to lose me a little when it comes to the writing, which somehow manages to be both confusing and over-explained. 

 

On the one hand, the social commentary is heavy-handed and the dialogue is often far too on-the-nose (though I guess that's Jordan Peele for you). But then, on the other, I'm just not seeing much of a narrative throughline here, especially in the back half. It's a lot of hazy character motivations and random plot developments, making the whole thing feel a lot more muddled than it really ought to be. And the rushed third act certainly doesn't help.

 

Still, on an individual basis, most of these scenes are pretty gripping, and the use of angles and sound are incredible at times. I just wish they were in service of a script that relied less on theme and more on actual scares (you know, like the original).

 

Grade: B-

 

P.S. If this is how you're going to use Tony Todd, you're better off not using him at all.

 

#107. Sawdust and Tinsel (1953)

 

 

I know I'm not always super patient when it comes to older foreign filmmakers, but I can usually vibe with Ingmar Bergman. His knack for cold, steely atmospheres, hypnotically-paced stories, and haunting looks at the darker side of humanity all have a way of sticking with me, and Sawdust and Tinsel is no different.

 

This is one of his earlier movies, and, as such, you can tell that he hasn't quite perfected his formula just yet (the writing, in particular, is more scatterbrained than usual). But it's still a stark, powerful tale of sex, loyalty, and aspiration, as well as the mistakes that come with combining all three. And the grotesque circus setting really emphasizes both the plight of the characters and the chaos of their situation.

 

Shot by Sven Nykvist, in the very first of his many collaborations with Bergman, this one's also got a lot of the trademarks that you'd hope to see from these two: the gloomy imagery, the surreal moods, the subtle implications, the lack of sound. It actually feels like a silent film in many ways, with strong emotions and powerful visuals to match.

 

Grade: A-

 

#106. Cry-Baby (1990)

 

 

The great thing about John Waters is that, no matter how mainstream his movies became, that sense of ugly tastelessness remained.

 

Cry-Baby is probably his single most accessible feature. It has catchy '50s music, fun dance numbers, generally agreeable comedy, and a charmingly self-aware performance from Johnny Depp. And yet, while you're watching the movie, you never once forget that it was made by the guy who got Divine to eat dog shit.

 

This reminder is present in the campy visuals, the over-the-top line deliveries, the unusual casting choices, and the intentionally cringy atmosphere. You can decide for yourself whether these are inherently good qualities (I'll admit that they're not always my thing), but I definitely give Waters credit for maintaining that strange and repulsive voice. At the very least, it results in a product that makes Grease look downright restrained.

 

If you've never seen a Waters movie before, this is a pretty safe place to start (and if you end up finding it too weird, stay far away from anything else he ever made). Having said that, though, I don't think I'd place it among his best work. The story's not always super engaging, and it's slightly lacking in the edge that made his better movies feel substantial. 

 

Grade: B

#105. A Thousand Clowns (1965)

 

 

Whenever I start watching a movie about a zany weirdo who struggles to conform, I'm always worried that it's going to result in some kind of trite "we all need to learn to have fun every once in a while" message. But while A Thousand Clowns occasionally possesses that energy, particularly in regards to some of the whimsical editing choices, it actually takes the opposite route, presenting a man who must come to grips with the fact that he needs to find work in order to save his family. And I find that premise far more interesting and compelling.

 

You also wouldn't expect to see Jason Robards in this kind of role (on paper, it seems better suited for someone like Dick Van Dyke), but his glum, expressive face makes the character a lot more sympathetic than he really ought to be. And the relationship he has with his nephew feels charming and legitimate, especially on the few occasions where the mask starts to slip and you can see how much he really cares for him.

 

More than anything, though, there's just a sturdy balance of humour and poignancy here. And even if the presentation's on the dry and stagy side (which stands to reason, considering the movie is, you know, based on a play), the strong dialogue, convincing performances, and unique tone help to bring it all to life. 

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. I'm kinda surprised that Martin Balsam won an Oscar for this. He's not terrible or anything, but I feel like every other lead makes a bigger impression than he does.

 

#104. The Living Daylights (1987)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

If you asked me, point blank, to pick a favourite movie franchise, I wouldn't have to think twice before answering: it's Bond. James Bond. I adore this ridiculous series, and have for roughly as long as I've been familiar with film as a medium (which is my way of preparing you in advance for a lot of unusually high grades). Like, were I to jot down a list of the hundred movies I watched the most when I was a kid, I'm dead certain that every one of the first twenty 007 entries would qualify. 

 

Well, make that nineteen. For whatever reason, I almost never returned to this one. Probably had something to do with the lame and underdeveloped villains, the downright convoluted (even by these movies' standards) plot, and my fraught feelings on Timothy Dalton. In any case, as recently as two days ago, I would've asserted that The Living Daylights was among my least favourite Bond adventures.

 

Not anymore. This past viewing finally made everything click for me. Yeah, the villains and plot are still pretty blah, but I was really taken with the tonal balance this time. It's just a solid mix of visual spectacle and grounded stakes, made even better by that killer opening, a strong supporting cast, generally solid pacing, and some of the best stuntwork in franchise history.

 

As for Dalton, I continue to find him a little uptight for this particular outing (his frigid presence gels much better with a darker tone, and we'd see in his one and only follow-up), but Maryam d'Abo humanizes him with perhaps the sweetest performance of any Bond Girl. The two are a cute pair.

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. That Necros dude really needs to expand his musical library.

 

#103. I'm No Angel (1933)

 

 

Even before watching this, my first Mae West movie, I was certainly familiar with her screen persona: the attitude, the sexuality, the confidence, the blonde hair, the insane eyebrows. I wasn't totally sure whether these characteristics could remain charming for an entire feature, but this fear mostly subsided by the time I recognized her astonishing aura and obvious knack for wit. Like all the other gents in this woman's life, she quickly won me over.

 

As for the movie around her, it's definitely on the messy and uneven side (the first quarter's a crime story, the second quarter's a brief circus show, the third quarter's a romantic comedy, and the fourth quarter's a courtroom procedural), but I suppose that unrestrained pulpiness fits right in with her appeal. And even when some elements feel slightly underdeveloped (the romance is the most obvious example; Cary Grant doesn't appear until we're past the halfway point), it's all pretty entertaining, and the sharp dialogue and personable performances ensure that substance is never a concern.

 

My main takeaway, though, is just how daring this material is. When I hear those sexual innuendos and double entendres, I imagine how close they must've come to giving that Hays asshole a coronary, and it brings a smile to my face.

 

Grade: B+

 

#102. Meek's Cutoff (2010)

 

 

Apologies for stating the obvious, but just because a movie's slow, that doesn't automatically make it boring.

 

Take Meek's Cutoff, which is unquestionably the former. Its plot is incredibly sparse, there's very little dialogue (and half of it is so quiet that you can barely make out what's being said), and a good portion of the shots are lengthy wides. If you watch this thing and find little more than a host of beautiful landscape paintings, I totally get where you're coming from. But I actually thought it was quite thrilling.

 

Among other things, Kelly Reichardt really understands anticipation and expectation. She places these vulnerable characters in a dire situation, and uses restraint, as well as our familiarity with the genre, to wring a surprising amount of tension out of this simple premise. It's just a nonstop tale of impending doom, where we can always imagine just how south everything might suddenly go, and you don't realize until the (wonderfully ambiguous) ending that you've been holding your breath the entire time.

 

I'd be curious to see how something like this would hold up on a second viewing, now that I know where it goes. But, even putting aside the suspense, the movie's still a vivid and harrowing depiction of the hardships facing American settlers in the 19th century, and an effective look at the tedium of daily struggle.

 

Grade: A-

 

#101. Times Square (1980)

 

 

I kinda like it when movies are of their time, if for no other reason than because they tend to serve as effective time capsules, and you'd be hard-pressed to find a more 1980 movie than this. Times Square is caught right between the seedy, rebellious angst of the '70s and the poppy sellout excess of the '80s, and the result is something of a sweet-yet-sleazy punk fairy tale, one that showcases the allure of New York City without ever glamorizing it.

 

Granted, it's all pretty trivial and aimless and nonsensical, with large swaths of the runtime consumed by a whole lotta nothing, but I suppose "aimless" and "nonsensical" are quite apt for a story about adolescent frustration. And even if the uglier and messier qualities don't always feel completely intentional, this is one of those cases where the shoddy cheapness still contributes to the overall mood and attitude. I mean, that's essentially the whole appeal of punk in the first place, right?

 

Plus, on the rare occasions where the movie manages to combine its gritty street photography with that fantastic soundtrack and Robin Johnson's superbly believable performance, it reaches near-documentary-levels of authentic.

 

Grade: B

 

#100. Hot Rod (2007)

 

 

I think what we've got here is one of those movies that was "underrated" for so long that it became slightly overrated.

 

When Hot Rod first came out, it was trashed by critics, as SNL alum movies often are. But then, over the following years, it slowly found its audience, and now it feels like the praise has gone a bit overboard - particularly on Reddit. Seriously, go to any thread with a prompt like "What's a hated movie that you love?", and the top answers are almost always Grandma's Boy, Hook, and this.

 

I wouldn't go so far, personally. The tone and storytelling are pretty inconsistent, the Napoleon Dynamite presentation only occasionally works, and I've just never been huge on Lonely Island's brand of quirky and meta comedy. But I won't pretend that I didn't also have fun with it, and audibly laugh at some of the dumb and entirely unnecessary antics (with the two big standouts being Rod falling down that giant hill for close to a minute and the motivational montage suddenly turning into a violent riot).

 

Plus, as ridiculous as this movie often gets, there's also a sincerity to it that provides some emotional grounding. We laugh at Rod more than we laugh with him, but we still want to see the guy succeed, and that kind of rooting interest makes the humour and the characters a lot more likeable as a result.

 

Grade: B

 

And, with that, the first hundred is officially out of the way. Only 9,900 to go!

 

#99. The Decameron (1971)

 

 

When I heard that this one was both a comedy and an anthology, I went into it expecting a relatively easy watch. Can't say I found that to be the case, though.

 

Well, okay, some of these episodes are pretty fun. The first one, about a man who gets swindled twice in the same night, made for a solid opener, and the second, about a guy who pretends to be a deaf-mute in order to get a job (and sleep with some nuns), was mostly amusing. Talk about work with benefits, amirite?

 

After that, though, I feel like the energy started to fall off a bit, as each segment was slightly less interesting than the one before it. The jury's still out as to whether this is a case of the movie being front-loaded or me simply running out of gas (it's definitely the latter), but, either way, I think the structure grew tedious and repetitive after a while, which made for a somewhat tiring viewing experience. Never thought I'd feel this way about a collection of shorts, but there you have it.

 

Still, the outer frame with the painter ties everything together pretty nicely. And I love that closing line, which basically amounts to "Huh, maybe I shouldn't have made this." There's something honest and strangely deep about that observation. 

 

Grade: B-

 

P.S. I'm hoping Italy's seen an influx of dentists since this movie came out. Half of these guys had more fingers than teeth.

#98. Fear and Desire (1952)

 

 

A.K.A. Shape of Fear

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Glad I finally got to see a version of this that doesn't look like it was filmed on newspaper.

 

Most people place Fear and Desire at the very bottom of their Kubrick ranking. Even Stanley himself disowned it (which is no surprise, considering how big a perfectionist he became). I don't disagree with those assessments, but I will say that, watching this one again, there's more promise here than I once thought.

 

Granted, it still feels like a first effort, with forced abstractions and clunky narration, but I started to notice the stylizations this time. There's a lot of stark lighting and harsh angles and extreme closeups, all of which drive home the madness that Kubrick would soon be renowned for (with shades of Paths of Glory and Full Metal Jacket sprinkled throughout), even if these qualities aren't fine-tuned just yet.

 

You might think I'm being kind to the movie simply because I'm a fan of its director, but I'd argue that the inverse is more accurate. If I had no idea who was responsible for this, the keen eye and strange vision on display here would be enough to make me curious about anything else carrying the same credit.

 

Grade: B-

 

#97. The Whale (2022)

 

 

People seem to have turned on this one a bit since its release, and I can definitely see why. The tone is bleak to the point of being overbearing, the central themes are messy and overwritten, the score frequently undercuts the mood, the dim visuals are ugly as hell, and the prosthetics aren't very believable. There's just not a lot of nuance here, and the overall presentation can be hard to take seriously at times.

 

But, despite all that, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't roped in by the melodrama. It's possible that the material just hit home for me because I, too, struggle with an eating disorder, but I also really liked the performances (we all know how great Fraser is here, but Hong Chau and Sadie Sink are equally compelling), and, even though none of these supporting characters are particularly likeable, there was still something about their miserable dynamic that I found strangely endearing.

 

Even the murky lighting and smaller aspect ratio started working for me after a while. They're not especially cinematic choices, but they do represent Charlie's emotional state quite well, and really reflect how trapped he is, both physically and psychologically. And while the light pouring into the room at the end might've been an obvious move, I still thought it was a powerful visual moment to go out on. 

 

Grade: B

 

#96. El Cid (1961)

 

 

The issue I take with a lot of these double-VHS epics from the early '60s is that they almost always felt the need to turn their heroes into saint-like figures, robbing them of personality and depth in the process. It's Ben-Hur and Spartacus all over again: when the protagonist isn't interesting, I'm only gonna be so invested in the story - which is kinda lethal when we're dealing with a three-hour runtime.

 

And it's a shame, because these movies really are quite impressive otherwise. As expected, the production design is simply breathtaking here, with elaborate costumes and sets captured via meticulous detail and surprisingly decent cinematography. And the on-location battle sequences are equally spectacular, especially considering how many extras seem to be involved.

 

I can certainly appreciate and admire a movie like El Cid. As spectacle goes, this is pretty much the definition of a cinematic epic. But between the unengaging script, a few wooden performances (Heston's doing his typical "serious hero man" thing, to similar results), and the generally dry presentation, it can also be a bit of a chore to get through.

 

Grade: B-

 

#95. Dead End (1937)

 

 

William Wyler had a script, a single set, and a dream.

 

Dead End might not be an especially complex movie, with its shallow plot and heavy moralizing, but it sure does a great job of recreating a New York City slum through some dark, cramped construction. This set is so well-realized that I don't even really mind the fact that the whole story takes place here, especially because it makes for some vivid class conflict. With the poor living conditions contrasted against those penthouse condos, it really drives home the central themes, and emphasizes the zero sum possibilities of living in such an environment.

 

But while the setting's generally stationary, the story's actually pretty versatile. If anything, a few of these individuals actually get a little lost in the shuffle (Francey's a good example), which occasionally strains the focus, but it also allows for some snappier pacing and character-heavy interactions - the best coming from Bogart, who shows a ton of promise with a soon-to-be-trademark cool performance, and those Dead End Kids, whose antics aren't as obnoxious than they probably should be. 

 

By and large, this movie is certainly of its time, but the colourful characters, relaxed vibe, interesting plot developments, and, again, that fantastic set make for some easy and enjoyable viewing. 

 

Grade: A-

 

#94. Blue Sunshine (1977)

 

 

Like most low-budget horror movies, especially from around this time, Blue Sunshine can be a little rough around the edges. The tone's wildly inconsistent, the performances aren't very believable, and the ending lacks resolution. But, as you might expect, there's also something distinct and offbeat about this presentation that gives the movie a unique style of its own.

 

Probably my favourite aspect here is the unique mix of genres, wherein slasher sensibilities are blended with a political thriller plot. As the former, it can include a handful of chilling murder sequences (the one with the fire sure is memorable), and, as the latter, it can create some decent intrigue through a bizarre mystery. It's not always a perfect marriage, but these halves do complement each other unusually well, especially given the fact that they both center around suspense and paranoia (and also because they're both so distinctly '70s).

 

Also, this is just a solid horror premise. Like, if D.A.R.E. really wanted to scare our generation straight, they should've just told us that LSD would eventually cause all of our hair to fall off. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#93. The Rock (1996)

 

 

Look, I never said I was perfect, okay?

 

When it comes to '90s blockbusters, especially of the action variety, I'm embarrassingly easy to please. But, even with that in mind, I still have to cop to being surprised by how much I enjoyed The Rock. Michael Bay has never exactly been a favourite filmmaker of mine (shocker, I know), and it's not like this one's tonally or stylistically different from anything else he's made. So what was the secret ingredient here?

 

It could be a premise thing. I'm far more into the idea of "Die Hard on Alcatraz" than I am, say, "drillers in space" or "robots in disguise". Or it might be the fact that Bay wasn't leaning too heavily on obnoxious spectacle just yet (frankly, the whole thing feels more like it belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer, which might explain the quality). But I think the most likely answer is also the simplest one, and that's the cast.

 

When you combine the talents of Sean Connery (who's as suave as ever), Nicolas Cage (who's possibly at his most endearing), and Ed Harris (who certainly can't be accused of not committing), the material basically elevates itself. And when you then tack on some sincere humour and a plot involving the US military industrial complex, you're left with a movie that's at or near the top of its class.

 

Truly can't believe I hadn't seen this all the way through before now. 

 

Grade: A+

 

#92. The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941)

 

 

A.K.A. All That Money Can Buy, which was its original release title (in order to avoid confusion with The Devil and Miss Jones, another RKO production).

 

Satan's always a fun character to center a story around, right? Like, I get that the dude has by now been depicted so many times on screen that he's nowhere near as inherently intimidating as he once was, but I still think there's something dangerous and exciting about seeing this sinister figure tempt ordinary people with material possessions in exchange for their souls. 

 

Naturally, this is the area where The Devil and Daniel Webster makes the biggest impression. Beyond the fact that the drama's especially compelling here, Walter Huston really leans into the mischievous side of the character, and the effects used to generate the other supernatural beings are incredibly vivid. It's a lot of shadows and visual blurriness, which creates a certain dream-turned-nightmare atmosphere.

 

The overall story is pretty basic and familiar for the most part, and it tends to be somewhat light on the fantasy aspect for my liking, but there's also a folk tale quality to the movie that makes it feel slightly timeless. And while I can't put it in the same league as The Wizard of Oz or It's a Wonderful Life (though what is?), it's operating on similar levels of imagination and morality, further enhancing that classic appeal.

 

Grade: A-