#193. The Golem: How He Came Into the World (1920)

 

 

A.K.A. Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam

 

Apparently, this was actually the third in a trilogy of Golem movies made by Paul Wegener, but the reason I'm covering it first (and last) is because the other two have unfortunately been lost to time.

 

On the bright side, How He Came Into the World is a prequel, so its story is pretty comprehensive. It's also, as you might expect, rather basic (though I give it credit for beating nearly every Frankenstein adaptation to the punch), but the structure is sturdy enough, the pace is steady enough, the emotions are compelling enough, and the horror elements are effective enough that I was mostly captivated by what was going on. Plus, the fact that this 1920 movie is both German and rooted in Jewish heritage/mysticism gives it a cultural significance that bumps the overall resonance up a few notches.

 

Helps, too, that the whole thing looks as good as it does. Like, even if the style isn't particularly original (it's basically just Dr. Caligari with a touch of Georges Méliès), that Expressionist combination of striking imagery, unusual angles, heavy makeup, and insane architecture is guaranteed to bewitch me no matter how many times I see it.

 

Grade: A-

#192. Let's Scare Jessica to Death (1971)

 

 

Bit of a misleading title here. You'd think it would imply either a tongue-in-cheek tone or some kind of narrative about an evil and elaborate plot against someone, but it really isn't either of those things. Instead, this is mostly one of those slow, grimy, downbeat psychological horror movies that were quite common in the '70s, albeit with a few noteworthy characteristics that help to set it apart.

 

The biggest is obviously Zohra Lampert. It can't be easy to convincingly pull off a character that's losing the ability to distinguish reality from fantasy, but she nails this complex and vulnerable role by staying as present and grounded as possible. It's a great performance, and it overshadows the other actors to such a degree that you quickly feel alone with her and her fragile mental state, which gives everything that much more legitimacy and gravity.

 

Beyond that, the atmosphere is adequately macabre (with visuals that give off a slight Italian horror vibe), the setting is beautiful and haunting, and the post-hippie seediness of it all really adds to the sense of dread. So even if the movie's ultimately a bit cheap, silly, and sedate, those murky moods and internal scares work well enough that I can understand why its cult legacy is continuing to grow.

 

Grade: B+

 

#191. Marty Supreme (2025)

 

 

Very few filmmakers give me more hope for the future than Josh Safdie does (sorry, Benny). Between the casting, the camerawork, the music, the humour, and the manic, unyielding energy, I find everything about his style exhilarating. And while I'm sure there will eventually come a day when I set the bar too high for him to clear, that day isn't today.

 

Goddamn, what an spectacular ride. From the sperm opening to the moving ending (both of which are punctuated by sublime needle drops), I adored every second of this movie. It's heartfelt, it's explosive, it's extremely sweaty, and it somehow finds a way to function as both a sports story and a Safdie-esque comedy of errors. Plus, it blends its 1952 setting with an '80s aesthetic and a modern-day mindset in a manner that feels harmonious and fresh. It's all so dazzling that even the presence of Kevin O'Leary couldn't ruin it for me.

 

When I watched One Battle After Another a few months ago, I was pretty sure that nothing else from 2025 would top it. That may still be the case, but the throne's finally got some competition now (I'll rank the ten nominees when I get through all of them, so check back then). And if I do end up giving this one the edge, it'll probably be due to its passion and power, and because it's the year's only movie, at least as far as I'm aware, that contains a shootout between Abel Ferrara and Penn Jillette.

 

Grade: A+

 

#190. The Secret of My Success (1987)

 

 

A.K.A. The Secret of My Succe$s, which is a baffling place to put the dollar sign. If the word it's being used in already starts with a capital S, that's clearly where it should go, right?

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Both times I tried this one, I expected to find it more charming than I did. The foundation's mostly there: a winning premise, a pleasant tone, a high rise setting, a bouncy score (and plenty of it; there's gotta be twenty montages here), an extremely charismatic lead, and a few fun supporting characters. And yet, it never quite comes alive for me.

 

Much of that probably comes down to the corporate plot, which is excessively convoluted and rarely absorbing, but I think it's also because the whole thing feels so low-effort. The script doesn't really have anything new or interesting to offer, and while I generally appreciate a pronounced soundtrack, the selections are largely uninspired. In particular, I can't pretend to be okay with two separate uses of "Oh Yeah" when Ferris Bueller clearly claimed that song the year before.

 

Still, it's all certainly watchable enough. I like Michael J. Fox, I like the "two lives" shenanigans, and I like the energetic atmosphere. There's a lot of '80s appeal here, but too much of the movie is humdrum and recycled for me to recommend it, or understand how it managed to outgross Lethal Weapon, Dirty Dancing, and Predator.

 

Grade: B-

 

P.S. Another family member, Michael? This is starting to feel like a pattern.

#189. Searching for Bobby Fischer (1993)

 

 

A.K.A. Innocent Moves

 

I went through a bit of a chess phase in elementary school. It didn't last long, and my interest was quickly killed by two of my cousins, both of whom stomped me every single time we played (yeah, I was one of those kids who would give up on activities if I wasn't immediately good at them), but that brief period did give me some lingering affection for the game, which probably made this movie that much more enjoyable to me.

 

Even if you know absolutely nothing about chess, though, I'd have to imagine that it's still pretty easy to relate to the themes of innocence, compassion, and conserving love for your interests without allowing stress or pressure to destroy them (which I've already felt once or twice with this very blog, meaning the movie hit home for me in more ways than one), especially when you consider the inspirational nature of the script, Steven Zaillian's warm, heartfelt direction, and the who's who of great character actors. 

 

It's all tender and moving enough that I'm mostly able to look past a few tedious conflicts, as well as Ben Kingsley's iffy performance. Man, between this, Sneakers, and Species, someone really needed to tell this guy back in the '90s that he shouldn't be attempting accents.

 

Grade: A-

 

#188. Hollywoodland (2006)

 

 

I'll say this for Hollywoodland: as fictionalized Old Hollywood detective movies from 2006 go, it's certainly better than The Black Dahlia.

 

Granted, that's not saying a whole lot. The latter was almost unwatchable, and the former's still pretty bland. I guess there's some decent atmosphere here and there (even if the saturated cinematography completely kills the immersion), and Affleck and Brody are mostly turning in good performances, but everything else feels uninspired to me, from the hokey genre tropes to the trite stabs at drama.

 

More than anything, though, I think my biggest problem probably comes down to structuring. Like, as much as I can appreciate the attempt to tell two related stories with two different protagonists, this approach results in a mystery that barely scratches the surface of its subject matter from either side. And what we're left with is a pair of underbaked halves instead of a satisfying whole, which ultimately lessens the movie's overall impact.

 

Grade: C+

P.S. Is Ben the first actor to technically play both Batman and Superman in live action?

#187. F1 (2025)

 

 

The surprise Best Picture nominee of the year, F1 probably isn't going to blow too many people away on a story level. It's basically your typical "Older guy plays by his own rules and shows the youngsters how it's done" narrative, with cookie cutter arcs and spelled-out dialogue. But the execution's ultimately strong enough that none of this really impaired my enjoyment all that much.

 

For example, the races are immaculate. They're exciting and suspenseful, and you always know what's going on (possibly to a fault; the announcer exposition felt a little condescending at times). And everything around them is mostly well-plotted and solidly structured, even if a few of the detours don't go anywhere or add a whole lot. Plus, with names like Pitt, Condon, and Bardem in the cast, adjectives like "cool" and "charismatic" are pretty much a given. 

 

So, yes, the movie's formulaic, to the point where Joseph Kosinski essentially just remade Top Gun: Maverick with cars instead of planes. But I'm certainly not immune to a superficial crowd-pleaser, and this one kept me invested and enthralled enough that I can't pretend to have any issue with the nomination.

 

Grade: A-

 

#186. The Birds (1963)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Surely, this script, about birds that suddenly lose their minds and start terrorizing a small town for seemingly no reason, is the silliest one Hitchcock ever attached himself to, right? Like, it's the kind of concept that probably should've led to an all-time disaster (a la Birdemic), or at least been remembered as little more than a bizarre curiosity.

 

But The Birds isn't a bizarre curiosity, and that's because it's in such seasoned and capable hands. Hitch combines mysterious atmospherics, clever set pieces, and that patented mastery of suspense (a good example: his decision to rely on realistic sound design instead of a conventional score) to lend a world of credibility to this premise. And the result is one of the most vicious films of his career.

 

Here's how you know it's a genuine winner, though: even if you were to remove every single bird, you'd still be left with a compelling, cozy (there's a lot of lighthearted rom-com energy here, and I just love that quiet coastal setting), and slightly deranged movie about sexual longing and familial relationships. The character drama is as compelling and effective as the horror elements, which makes the eventual bird attacks feel seamless as far as tone, conflict, and overall consistency go.

 

Now, does it ever actually add up to anything? I'm honestly not sure (though the lack of answers/closure definitely contributes to the eerie effect), but, either way, I enjoyed this rewatch enough to place the movie just outside of its director's top tier.

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. The surviving members of that town should count themselves lucky that geese weren't involved. Take it from a Canadian: those fuckers are ruthless.

 

#185. Monkey Business (1952)

 

 

The Howard Hawks one, not the Marx Brothers one. Though, while I've never seen the latter, I have a sneaking suspicion that the two are pretty similar on a tonal level (which stands to reason, given the title).

 

Monkey Business is something of a throwback to the screwball comedies of a slightly earlier era. It doesn't necessarily reach the same delirious heights as a few other Cary Grant movies, but, between the fountain of youth premise, the two lead performances (especially Ginger Rogers, who's really going all out here), and Hawks's snappy direction, it mostly compensates with similar amounts of buoyancy and energy.

 

It's also got some of that characteristic Old Hollywood charm that you can't help but smile at, from the the director saying "Not yet, Cary" when Grant opens the front door prematurely (I'm not always big on fourth wall jokes, but that one was cute and creative enough to tickle me), to the adorable and surprisingly elaborate chimp antics, to seeing our dignified actors behave like juveniles. Sure, the whole thing's pretty rudimentary, and not exactly clever or consistent, but it's also affable, amusing, and animated enough that I can agree with its "minor classic" status. 

 

Grade: A-

#184. Instant Family (2018)

 

 

Every once in a while, you're just in the mood for something nice and sweet, y'know?

 

I won't act like Instant Family doesn't have its share of problems. The first act is somewhat rocky, the characters' decisions and reactions aren't always super believable (especially in the support group scenes, where I feel like I'm watching aliens pretend to be human), and the muddy colour grading is a bit of a tonal buzzkill. But I suppose the mood is otherwise endearing and heartwarming enough that these issues mostly melt away by the time the story takes off.

 

And what a pleasant little story. You can't help but grow to love this group, partially because the cast has so much charisma and chemistry, and partially because the script balances its tones in such a fresh way (for instance, I found many of the jokes genuinely funny, and not in the meek and bittersweet way that you tend to get in this genre). And even if the movie rarely gets as deep or authentic as it would probably prefer, the fact that it cares so much is usually enough to make it resonate.

 

Plus, it's all in service of an actual cause, so there's an additional layer of sincerity and emotional impact here.

 

Grade: B+

 

#183. The Secret Agent (2025)

 

 

The main talking point with this one seems to be its length/pacing/sluggishness. I'll admit that two hours and forty minutes is a trying amount of time to spend on a movie that only intermittently springs to life, especially when much of the meandering feels so shapeless (though the kinetic camerawork, snappy editing, and lively performances help to keep the energy up), but I think I otherwise liked the slow burn. It gave the setting some immersion, the thrills some tension, and the structure a chance to unfold in bizarre and unexpected ways, especially in the third act.

 

There's also a good balance of personal drama and paranoid thriller here (with some cartoonish surrealism thrown in for good measure), which usually kept me invested in the conflicts and characters, gripped by the plot developments, and on edge whenever we did get some action. So even if I don't think the overall movie's quite as consistent or memorable as the two other Best Picture contenders I've watched thus far, the positives regarding scale, rhythm, tone, and political commentary (the bulk of which probably went right over my head) still make it entirely deserving of the nomination in my opinion.

 

Grade: A-

 

#182. Deep Blue Sea (1999)

 

 

I have a soft spot for late '90s studio schlock, as well as simplistic horror movies where a small group of characters fight to survive in an isolated setting. This one manages to hit both of those weak points, and has a good time doing it, so I can only dock so many points for stupid writing and terrible effects.

 

Actually, if anything, those two qualities only serve to enhance the charm. This isn't a Sharknado situation, where the entire project reeks of laziness and cynicism. No, Deep Blue Sea cares, and plays everything completely straight (with just the right amount of self-awareness), which makes the cornier elements a million times more likeable and fun as a result.

 

Plus, while this earnestness often takes us in some strange directions (the whole religious subplot, for instance, goes over really weird), it also allows for some effective genre scares, creative violence, cheesy dialogue, committed performances, surprisingly decent action set pieces, and LL Cool J's absolute masterpiece of a theme song. The whole thing's a junk heap, but it's a determined and entertaining junk heap.

 

And regardless of where you stand on the movie's quality, I think we can agree that Sam Jackson's big speech is a legitimate top hundred horror moment.

 

Grade: B+

 

#181. Brainstorm (1983)

 

 

There's a reason why the only times you ever hear about this one are when people discuss Natalie Wood's sudden and mysterious death. And that's because, in pretty much all other regards, there just isn't a whole lot worth talking about. 

 

Okay, maybe that's a bit harsh. I suppose Brainstorm has value. The premise, for instance, about technology that can project one person's consciousness and sensations onto another via headset, is pretty creative and ahead of its time, and the sci-fi visuals are generally quite stunning. But that's basically where my compliments end. Everything else feels off to me, from the weak acting (Wood looks bored, Louise Fletcher is all over the place, and I don't even know what Christopher Walken's going for) to the atrocious dialogue to the choppy editing to the uneven sound mixing. And the result is a bewildering, insta-dated misfire, at least in my opinion.

 

Even the alternating aspect ratios, which, sure, probably look really cool in a theater setting, are mostly jarring on a home screen. All the non-virtual scenes (which is ninety percent of the movie) are now covered by both vertical and horizontal black bars, which causes everything inside to look boxed-in, small, and inconsequential. Makes the whole experience feel less cinematic to me, not more.

 

Grade: C

#180. The Public Enemy (1931)

 

 

A.K.A. Enemies of the Public, which is such a pointless rearrangement that it kinda reminds me of Sphinx from Mystery Men. "If you want to be The Public Enemy, you must first become Enemies of the Public."

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

It's sometimes hard to judge such an influential film on its own merits (especially when said film basically set the template for an entire genre), but The Public Enemy is so fast and modest and electric that it still totally works as a straightforward piece of nefarious entertainment - hand-wringing intertitles notwithstanding.

 

And while the story is your typical "rise and fall" gangster arc, the simple and seminal presentation, combined with the energy and creativity on display, elevates it to almost mythic status. William A. Wellman is constantly using the camera to punctuate the mood and intensity of a given scene (which is extra impressive when you consider that most of the action takes place off-screen), and James Cagney is so commanding and dangerous and transcendent that he not only dominates the movie, but foreshadows actors like Brando and Nicholson with his grinning, charismatic menace. Just an all-timer of a performance.

 

Between the acting (and not just Cagney; this whole ensemble's pretty solid), the nimble pacing, and the creeping tone, this has to be one of the more accessible movies of the '30s. You may want to consider watching it with subtitles, though. Thanks to both the heavy accents and the mediocre audio quality, it's sometimes near-impossible to understand what these characters are saying.

 

Grade: A

#179. Sentimenal Value (2025)

 

 

A.K.A. Affeksjonsverdi. Cool word.

 

Every other year, I make an effort to watch all the Best Picture nominees before Oscar night. I wasn't initially planning on doing that this time, but then I thought that it might make for a fun little assignment within this larger project. So I've decided to go for it.

 

And I'm glad that I did. Sentimental Value is a melodrama that easily lives up to its wistful and evocative title; the kind where you see it and immediately understand why every actor involved got a nomination (Renate Reinsve and Stellan Skarsgård are both as powerful as advertised, but I think Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas is the true scene-stealer here; every time she showed up on screen, I felt like I was looking directly into her soul), not just because their deliveries are so emotional and resonant, but also because of how much is expressed non-verbally. You can always see the pain and sadness in these character's eyes, and it's consistently heartbreaking.

 

But the movie's strengths don't just lie in its performances. Joachim Trier's direction is delicate and understated, the editing cleverly punctuates the drama by cutting to black after every segment, and I think the house is just a great symbol of this family's histories and traumas. It's all very affecting and personal stuff, with undercurrents of humour and catharsis that keep things from getting too grim or overbearing.

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. What do we think Gustav's gonna get Erik for his next birthday? My money's on Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom.

#178. Edmond (2005)

 

 

Based on a Mamet play from the '80s, Edmond is about a chummy and repressed businessman who just kinda snaps one evening and sets out for a night of debauchery and sexual release. It sort of combines the feverish, all-nighter vibes of After Hours and Eyes Wide Shut with the vengeful misanthropy of Taxi Driver and Falling Down.

 

Unlike Travis Bickle or William Foster, though, there's absolutely no mistaking how pathetic Edmond Burke is. The power fantasy stuff is almost completely absent, and what we're left with instead is an awkward and often uncomfortable tale of loneliness and frustration. It's not as fun as those earlier comparables, nor is it nearly as consistent (the two scenes with Julia Stiles, for instance, don't convince in the slightest), and the affected dialogue gets a bit tiresome at times, but the intimate scope and dreamlike atmosphere mostly manage to similarly draw you in and keep you guessing.

 

Plus, if you're as big a fan of William H. Macy as I am, you probably shouldn't miss this one. I don't know if he's ever been more ferocious, or more pitiful (which is saying something), than he is here.

 

Grade: B+

#177. The Body Snatcher (1945)

 

 

In almost every regard, The Body Snatcher is a very small movie. It's less than eighty minutes long, there aren't a lot of characters, and the financial constraints are obvious. And yet, the whole thing's so rich and creepy and fun that it never feels especially slight to me. Helps that Robert Louis Stevenson's source material is as smart, provocative, and conflict-heavy as it is (with some fascinating dynamics and parallels), and that Boris Karloff's as delightfully sinister as ever.

 

The bulk of the credit, though, should probably go to Robert Wise, who's working overtime to ensure that this thing's as atmospheric as possible. Nearly any moment will serve as adequate evidence, but I'll note my three favourites: the camera staying on an empty arch while a singer abruptly goes quiet, the silhouette-bathed cat witnessing a fight, and the tense carriage ride climax. It's genuinely breathtaking stuff, and a reminder of why this guy managed to have such a long and fruitful career. 

 

Honestly, this one really surprised me. I was expecting something on the level of the Universal Monsters, but what I got was leagues ahead of most of those. It may even be an early contender for my favourite horror movie of the '40s (which, granted, was a relatively weak decade for the genre).

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. This was the final film to feature both Karloff and Bela Lugosi, and while they may not have much screen time together here, seeing the two of them roll around trying to strangle each other feels like a fitting conclusion to their on-screen relationship.

 

#176. Faces Places (2017)

 

 

A.K.A. Visages Villages, which is much more fun to say.

 

What a delightful little documentary. You wouldn't necessarily expect a travelogue featuring two slightly self-serious artists to be so endearing, but it works thanks to the fact that they both clearly care about the subjects they're capturing, and because they bring a likeable combination of styles to the table. Agnès Varda's warmth and curiosity pairs incredibly well with JR's larger-than-life projects, and they come together to generate a sweet and often poignant look at the importance of individuals, communities, and spaces.

 

The structure does occasionally get repetitive at times, but it's generally loose and diverse enough that I'd call it far from tedious. For instance, the movie could also be considered something of an autobiography, as we similarly get to learn a lot about our filmmakers - and not just as artists, but as people. Through this intimate process of collaboration, they can share stories with one another, discuss a wide range of philosophical topics, and build an adorable bond.

 

And even if some of the more emotional moments feel heavily manufactured, they're endearing and enriching enough that I can still enjoy them for what they are.

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. My expectations of Godard were pretty low, but goddamn.

 

#175. The Sentinel (1977)

 

 

This is a horror movie from the '70s, so it's predictably pretty heavy on atmosphere, which is fine by me. Michael Winner's direction isn't always as flashy as I'd like, but his slow-burn approach mostly manages to keep things creepy and foreboding, and the gory practical effects go a long way in providing some grotesque tactility. Plus, I really like the apartment building as a primary setting.

 

Unfortunately, the story's a bit of a letdown. Granted, both ghosts and Satanism generally rank quite low on my list of genre topics (mainly because I don't think either one's especially scary, and because they both tend to follow predictable and frustrating narrative beats), so it's possible that I was never gonna fall in love this one. But I also thought the mystery was kinda weak, and the religious plot just sort of felt like nonsense to me after a while.

 

There is one successful source of intrigue here, though, and that's how Winner got so many big names to sign on. I don't know if they were that hard up for work, if the script was that much better than the final result, or if blackmail was involved, but, whatever the reason, I'll admit that it's pretty fun seeing so many familiar faces. I love a good game of "Spot the Star", especially when the movie involved is only sporadically interesting.

 

Grade: B-

 

#174. Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 4-5

 

Here it is, the most widely reviled film of my lifetime. We all know the story: expectations were unreasonably high, and all those years of build-up and excitement eventually led to disappointment, which turned to anger, which turned to hate, which turned to endless screeds about how George Lucas "raped" our collective childhoods (yes, people actually said that).

 

It was all a bit much, honestly, to the point where the heavy backlash inevitably received a backlash of its own. Nowadays, you're much more likely to hear about how this trilogy's actually underrated, and that the initial reception was far too negative. I'd like to agree with that stance. I really would. But it frankly doesn't survive actually sitting down and re-watching the damn thing.

 

Yeah, sorry, but, all these years later, long after I've come to accept this prequel for what it is, it still doesn't do all that much for me. I don't hate it by any means (in fact, the kiddie tone [along with Darth Maul and "Duel of the Fates"] might even give it a tiny leg up on the two entries to come), but the defects are just too overwhelming to ignore. They almost go without saying at this point: convoluted plotting, clunky pacing, wooden acting, awful dialogue, bland CG environments, a general lack of passion, etc. Despite the wealth of potential here (which might partially explain all the fruitless fan edits), most of it's squandered by tedious storytelling and lazy creative decisions.

 

Now, in fairness, Lucas always insisted, rather defensively, that these movies were made for children. Maybe so. But I was six years old in 1999, and, as a member of that target audience, I can assure you that I still would've chosen any of the Original Trilogy episodes over this one every single day of the week.

 

Grade: C+

#173. Gentleman Jim (1942)

 

 

Boxing movies tend to be either dark and depressing melodramas or high-stakes underdog stories, so it's kinda refreshing to see one that's so laid-back and easygoing, while still being full of life.

 

Much of that can be credited to the lighthearted, almost screwball nature of the screenplay, as well as Raoul Walsh's sturdy-yet-dynamic direction (both the bouts and the montages have some genuine energy to them), but the key ingredient here is clearly our leading man. I'm told that this was one of Errol Flynn's favourite roles, and you can easily see why. It plays to all of his strengths: charm, wit, physicality, attractiveness. Jim's a cocky fella, but Flynn plays it off so effortlessly and charmingly that you're always in his corner.

 

As much as I liked the buoyancy of this one, though, I have to admit that I found the narrative only occasionally gripping. What few subplots there are grew kinda repetitive to me after a while (it doesn't exactly help that the conflicts and arcs are so basic), and I think the movie largely runs out of steam before we get to the final fight. Fortunately, that belt scene wraps everything up quite nicely, while also providing some necessary heart.

 

Grade: B+

 

#172. Sing Sing (2023)

 

 

The best prison dramas tend to be the most humanizing ones. The ones where we examine tragic figures and lost causes through trauma, systemic oppression, corruption, vulnerability, support, and, hopefully, rehabilitation, not only to make these characters endearing and relatable, but also to serve as a reminder that liberation can be found even in the ugliest of settings. "Bars cannot contain the soul" kinda stuff.

 

And that's why a movie like Sing Sing works: it uses a minimal plot and a grounded technical approach (tight framing, natural lighting, long takes) to allow this theme to take center stage. And it's such a tender and heartwarming theme, carried out in such a raw and original way, that I really can't ask for more. I just enjoy seeing these hardened convicts experience some catharsis via creative expression for a little while. That kind of emotional power is infectious.

 

Also, while we're on the topic of simplicity and naturalism, the casting is a stroke of genius. I knew next-to-nothing about the background of this movie, so I was genuinely taken aback when the credits started rolling, revealing that almost every supporting actor was actually playing themselves. Just a beautiful little full-circle moment.

 

Grade: A

 

#171. Tea and Sympathy (1956)

 

 

You can almost always tell when an older Hollywood movie is based on a play. Sharp writing and stagy direction aside, they tend to be a lot more socially and politically progressive.

 

Granted, you can still feel the Hays Code holding this one back from delving even deeper into some of its heavier topics, but it's nevertheless incredibly thoughtful and delicate in its outlook, especially by '50s standards. The themes of toxic masculinity and conformity hold up all too well, the forceful melodrama is generally cogent and earned, the two Kerrs (no relation) bring a necessary amount of warmth and heart, and the beautiful technicolour fits right in with the large sets and heavy emotions.

 

Sure, it's all kinda preachy and romanticized, but I think most of us prefer a little sentimentality in these kinds of movies. It gives the characters and their feelings that much more vulnerability and relatability. If you don't agree, however (and you might be right not to; some of these scenes have a bit of a Disney Channel vibe), the ending is a nice, understated little return to reality, one that's so touching that I forgive it for stepping on the even better forest scene that comes just before it.

 

Grade: A-

#170. There Goes the Neighborhood (1992)

 

A.K.A. Paydirt

 

I'm down for any movie with a Mad World-esque scavenger hunt premise, even if the results are often messy and mediocre. So while There Goes the Neighborhood is clearly both of those things, the mere fact that it's about a group of characters who collectively lose their minds over some buried treasure is enough to keep my feelings positive. 

 

The main selling point here is obviously the cast. I don't know how you manage to get Jeff Daniels, Catherine O'Hara, Hector Elizondo, Rhea Perlman, Judith Ivey, Harris Yulin, Jonathan Banks, Dabney Coleman, and Chazz Palminteri together and not score a hit out of it, but this group nevertheless makes the most of a tepid and underdeveloped script, while also keeping things appropriately chaotic.

 

Honestly, maybe too chaotic. Like a lot of zany comedies, this one commits the understandable mistake of having way too much going on at the same time. People speak over one another, everything moves a bit too quickly, and it all starts to feel like overload after a while (especially when you take into account rookie Bill Phillips's clunky and unpolished direction), to the point where very little leaves much of an impression. I had a fun time with the movie, but I can also see why nobody ever talks about it.

 

Grade: B

 

#169. Valley of the Dolls (1967)

 

 

To my eternal dismay, I tend to like camp more in theory than in practice. On paper, something like Valley of the Dolls sounds fun and lively and colourful (and I'll agree that the pastel sets and hammy performances do manage to provide some charm), but, as an actual viewing experience, I mostly just found the movie unpleasant and dull.

 

Those seem like preposterous adjectives given the subject matter and overall presentation, but I guess my problem is that the whole thing quickly gets bogged down by tedious pacing and coarse conflicts, both of which really kill the vibe. And it probably doesn't help that the structure's as loose as it is (especially since these three women barely appear to know each other), or that we never settle on a consistent tone.

 

Still, the energy does pick up every now and again (thanks mainly to the wonderfully miscast Patty Duke, whose cringy-yet-endearing performance keeps things from totally flatlining), and I can usually sense some melancholy underneath the kitsch, which lends a lot of much-needed weight. This isn't an awful movie, necessarily, but I'd argue that it ultimately suffers from being stuck in something of a no man's land: too dark to be fun, and too silly to be resonant. 

 

Grade: C+

#168. The Departed (2006)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

Ever since this one took home Best Picture and Best Director at the Oscars, you'll occasionally hear talk about how they were both largely legacy wins, and that those accolades probably would've gone elsewhere had Raging Bull and Goodfellas not been snubbed in the past. I myself wasn't immune to this line of thinking: The Departed has never not been enjoyably entertaining to me, but the heavy plotting and admittedly mediocre visual palette always kept it from being a personal favourite.

 

That is, until now. Re-watching the movie for the first time in over a decade, I can finally recognize that "entertaining" was an extreme understatement. This is among the tightest, fastest, angriest, most pulse-pounding, tension-mounting, and neatly-packaged (I love stories that manage to tie up every single loose end) thrillers I've ever seen. The whole thing's overflowing with vitriolic dialogue, dark humour, fluid cinematography, flawless pacing, star performances, and aggressive flip phone action, and I had an absolute blast from beginning to end. 

 

Now, is it Marty's "best" movie? Probably not, but I will say that 1) there's some stiff competition in that regard, 2) that doesn't diminish how masterful and downright fun it is, and 3) it's gotta be among his most rewatchable. Once the credits started rolling on this latest viewing, there was a part of me that wanted to run it back, which is an impulse I rarely get, and one that I haven't truly felt since I started this blog.

 

Grade: A+