#8. Strangers on a Train (1951)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

I think a lot of the best thrillers often have simple concepts. Maybe that's because they tend to be more relatable, or maybe it just makes for more streamlined storytelling. Either way, Strangers on a Train is about as simple as it gets (to the point of being parodied many times over), which is what allows the suspenseful set pieces to take center stage without much fat getting in the way.

 

Also, the movie's directed by some guy named Alfred Hitchcock, who, not to tell any tales out of school or anything, wasn't too bad at making an effective thriller. You can see it in his pacing, in his moody lighting (this might be his most visually appealing black & white endeavour), and in his cheeky sense of humour, but I think you can also see it in his understanding of "moments". And this one's got three of his very best: the murder as reflected in the sunglasses, Bruno staring at Guy amid a sea of head-swinging tennis onlookers, and the exciting carousel climax. Granted, nearly every scene is inventive and entertaining to some degree, but these moments are where you start to understand why everyone refers to him as The Master. 

 

Grade: A

#7. Turner & Hooch (1989)

 

 

High concept comedies don't often get much respect or acclaim, and Turner & Hooch is a good example of why. Like, no matter what they did with this material, at the end of the day, it'll always be about a stuffy detective who teams up with a dog to solve a murder case. Even at the time, that premise would've been both lame and tired.

 

Fortunately, I've never been above a lame or tired premise, so I was mostly able to enjoy myself. As you might expect, that's largely because they got Tom Hanks to play the detective. And while this is far from his most dignified work, he manages to elevate everything by providing the single Hanks-iest performance I've ever seen. By that I mean that he's charming, he's slightly cynical, and he yells almost every line (which somehow never gets old). 

 

The rest, for better or worse, is pretty much what you'd expect. The pairing's kinda cute, the hijinks are mostly fun, the plot is convoluted and uninteresting (with a "twist" that you'll be able to guess within the first ten minutes), and the ending's actually pretty moving. For a movie about a stuffy detective who teams up with a dog to solve a murder case, you could do far worse.

 

Grade: B

 

#6. The Gambler (1974)

 

 

All addictions are obviously undesirable, but there's something about a gambling addiction that truly unsettles me. I'm extremely risk-averse to begin with, and I don't really like spending my money at the best of times, so the thought of routinely betting my savings account on something I have absolutely no control over gives me hives.

 

And that's where The Gambler works best: at recreating that stress. For much of the duration, we see basically everything through James Caan's eyes. His anxieties become our anxieties, and you want to throttle the guy because of it, or at least scream at him to stop taking those goddamn bets. It's a truly effective bit of character work, made all the better by Caan's performance and that particular '70s look, which really captures the seediness of this lifestyle.

 

The movie probably could've stood to dig even deeper, honestly (though that might just be my love of Uncut Gems talking), but it's still gripping and uncompromising stuff. Dude needs to take Kenny Rogers's advice before it's too late.

 

Grade: A-

 

#5. Species (1995)

 

 

We all have our guilty pleasure genres, and one of mine is small-scale B-style horror movies, particularly from around this era. That's not to say that I love all of them, of course, but I'm far more likely to be taken with one than I would, say, a modern biopic. So when I tell you that I enjoy something like Species, just keep that in mind.

 

Without question, what truly elevates this movie is the oddly stacked cast. I mean, you've got Michael Madsen playing action hero man, Ben Kingsley attempting another one of his ridiculous accents, Alfred Molina having absolutely nothing to do aside from occasionally acting horny, and Forest Whitaker giving it his all as an "empath" (?) who inexplicably possesses psychic powers. It's great. And their presences are especially welcome because all four of them are so delightfully miscast.

 

Otherwise, though, the movie's mostly mediocre. Strong as the premise and casting might be, they're often squandered by weak writing, unnecessary padding, downright horrendous CGI, and a rushed ending. But I suppose these "flaws" have never totally sunk this kind of movie for me before, so I won't be starting now. And besides, when I watch these guys walk around with flamethrowers and try to hunt down an extraterrestrial-human hybrid, I'm reminded of why I was so drawn to this genre in the first place. 

 

Grade: B

 

#4. Carlito's Way (1993)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Y'know what kind of movies I tend to like? Slightly elevated trash.

 

Okay, maybe "trash" is a bit harsh, but Carlito's Way is absolutely pulpy, what with its cliched characters, corny narration, on-the-nose soundtrack, and flashy settings. But, to me, that's the whole appeal of Brian De Palma (at his best, anyway): wall-to-wall style, an ever-moving camera, and a heavy emphasis on excess and melodrama, yet selling it all with such confidence and sincerity that the emotions remains convincing.

 

Watching this movie for the first time in probably fifteen years, and not really having remembered much of it, I was impressed by the mature and relatively low-key approach it took. There's a lot more restraint going on here than there is in, say, Scarface (though maybe that's not fair; no one watches Scarface for its subtlety). But even with the bulk of it being a quiet character study, it still manages to reach the operatic heights we've come to expect from this director, from the growing sense of tension and paranoia to the genuinely heart-pounding third act payoff. Exactly my kind of stylistic balance.

 

It's too early to say this with any certainty, but there's a good chance I've found my new favourite De Palma movie.

 

Grade: A+

 

#3. Heartbreakers (2001)

 

 

Sometimes, it really is all about casting. Once I learned that Sigourney Weaver, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Ray Liotta, and Gene Hackman (along with a few unexpected supporting players) were all in the same romcom, I knew I needed to see it right away.

 

And, honestly, all things considered, I think Heartbreakers largely manages to live up to that star power. It's got a rock-solid (if slightly unoriginal) premise, a compelling and playful mother-daughter dynamic, and a handful of amusing detours to keep things moving. And while I already knew that Weaver and Hackman could be funny, Liotta really surprised me with how consistently he made me laugh.

 

Yeah, the writing isn't particularly revolutionary, and yeah, this is one of those romcoms where things start to lose steam once the romantic stuff gets serious, but I don't think the latter is super obtrusive in this instance. Part of that comes down to the fact that Love Hewitt and Jason Lee are a likeable enough pair, but I'd say it's mostly because there are so many insane subplots taking place simultaneously that the drama never really gets much of a chance to ruin the fun.

 

Grade: B+

 

#2. Leaving Las Vegas (1995)

 

 

Can't say I expected to open with two movies from 1995, both of which center around the dangers of alcoholism. This better not be a forewarning of some kind.

 

Leaving Las Vegas is an interesting one to me because it clearly shouldn't work, right? From top to bottom, everything about this premise comes off as tired and cliched. I mean, the two main characters are literally a struggling writer and a hooker with a heart of gold, possibly the two most overdone archetypes in all of fiction. And the idea that this pair of broken souls might bond over their trauma is so trite and implausible that I actually feel slightly ashamed at the thought of falling for it.

 

But fall for it I did, for reasons you could probably guess. Mike Figgis's strange direction, from the unusual soundtrack to the use of 16mm film (which causes everything to seem that much more intimate and real), is part of the reason, as is my affinity for a good trashy Vegas aesthetic. But, predictably, it's the leads that make it all work. Cage and Shue are plainly playing pathetic characters, and yet they provide such vulnerability and subversive warmth (and I think it helps that both of them are acting slightly against type here) that you can actually start to understand why these individuals might come to love and accept one another. In a bizarre way, it's as beautiful as it is bleak.

 

Grade: A-

 

#1. Dolores Claiborne (1995)

 

 

I'm sure you're wondering why I decided to kick this journey off with Dolores Claiborne, of all things. Well, to answer your question, I'm planning on eventually writing about 10,000 movies, so why not start with Dolores Claiborne? It's just what I felt like watching last night, okay? Get off my back already!

 

Anyway, getting to the movie itself, this is definitely one of the more tender and thoughtful King adaptations I've seen. As a result, some of the trademark stylizations and theatrics and caricature supporting players feel a little out of place at times, but the compensation here is that the horror elements tend to be more down-to-earth and relatable (sexism, abuse, alcoholism, poverty). So while this isn't a particularly electrifying thriller, it's raw and resonant in all the ways it needs to be.

 

As for the storytelling, I'm tempted to say that the emphasis on flashbacks gets slightly tiresome after a while, but I suppose I can't knock the creative decision too hard, seeing as this is what allows the narrative to unfold in the most gripping and revealing way possible. It makes for a strong balance of melodrama and suspense, it gives the colour grading some variety, and it lets Kathy Bates shine with a subtler, more ambiguous performance than the one she gave in Misery.

 

Well, okay, maybe it's not that subtle. Those accents are something else.

 

Grade: B+

 

Introduction

 

Greetings, anonymous readers! My name is Sean, and, for the purposes of this introduction, all you really need to know about me is that I love movies and I love projects. So I thought it might be fun to create a blog where I can combine those two passions.

 

Here's the plan: starting now, I'm gonna try to watch and review ten thousand movies, for no other reason than because that's the kind of challenge my broken brain seems to find worthwhile. And it doesn't matter if the movies are old, new, short, feature-length, works of fiction, documentaries, ones I've seen before, or ones I haven't - we're keeping things as broad as possible, largely in the hopes of avoiding burnout.

 

I'm aware that this is a pretty ludicrous undertaking, one that I'll almost certainly lack the stamina to actually finish, but part of the fun is gong to be seeing how far I get. Feel free to join along, and don't hesitate to throw out some recommendations.