#254. The Cooler (2003)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Is this a real thing? Do casinos actually hire people with quantifiably bad luck to walk around and ruin players' hot streaks through nothing more than their terrible vibes? Because, if so, I think I may have found my true calling.

 

Well, on second thought, perhaps not. Between the grainy visuals, the melancholic mood, the smooth-yet-downbeat score, and the constant threat of seeing Alec Baldwin break someone's limbs with a baseball bat, The Cooler doesn't exactly glorify this line of work. But the whole thing's so seedy and gritty that the concept at least feels credible to me, and it counter-balances the touches of fantasy extremely well. 

 

It also makes for three incredibly compelling main characters. Shelly has more depth than your typical crime movie antagonist, and both Natalie and Bernie are so jaded and sympathetic that you really root for them as a pair. Plus, the fact that they're played by Maria Bello (one of the coolest and most underrated actors out there) and William H. Macy doesn't exactly hurt on a likeability level.

 

There's no denying that this one can be pretty bleak at times, but there's more than enough style, personality, energy, and heart throughout for it to simultaneously work as an optimistic little fairy tale about love and redemption.

 

Grade: A

 

#250. Young Adult (2011)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

There sure were a lot of character-driven indie comedies (that weren't actually comedies) being made around this time. But while Young Adult is tonally predictable and narratively contrived in the way that most of its contemporaries tend to be, I think it manages to slightly separate itself from the pack simply by daring to focus on such an uncharacteristically irredeemable protagonist.

 

Well, maybe "irredeemable" is kinda harsh, but there's no denying that Mavis is a difficult character to follow for ninety straight minutes. She's mean, she's bitter, and she's dangerously delusional. And yet, between Jason Reitman's tender direction, Diablo Cody's brief moments of pathos, and Charlize Theron's raw-yet-humanizing performance, there's also enough depth and nuance to keep her compelling, and compelling in a way that doesn't (overly) sacrifice the credibility of her arc.

 

That's not to say that every single moment smacks of authenticity (it's a good thing Theron and Patton Oswalt have such great chemistry, because the Matt stuff would be almost unbearable otherwise), but the themes of history, stagnation, and mental illness certainly do. They're earnest and uncompromising, and they manage to complement both the main character and the overall mood. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#246. Stand and Deliver (1988)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Saw this one, predictably enough, in our middle school gym during an assembly. I can still recall our principal (and this is my lone memory of the guy) accidentally introducing it as Stand by Me and everybody being audibly disappointed when another faculty member corrected him.

 

That initial feeling mostly ceased by the time the movie got going, though. Stand and Deliver may be a fairly formulaic bit of academic schmaltz (I do give it credit, however, for hopping on that trend relatively early), but there's a reason why every school on the planet has it in their rotation: it's educational, it's inspirational, and it gives kids an underdog tale that they can relate to. Our group absolutely ate it up. 

 

Watching the movie again as an adult, it's clear that certain aspects of the story are total fiction (no way are a group of teens, regardless of their background, making that kind of educational jump in under a year), and the storytelling's sometimes a bit rushed and messy, but the feel-good presentation, as well as the committed performances from Edward James Olmos and Lou Diamond Phillips, are typically enough to overcome those defects. That's the stuff that left an impression when I was thirteen, and it's the stuff that still works on me now.

 

I do wish it got me to actually care about calculus, though. But I guess that's more of a me problem. 

 

Grade: B+

#242. Good Will Hunting (1997)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

I had extremely fraught feelings on this one the first time I saw it. The smooth storytelling, powerful acting, and general schmaltziness mostly appealed to me, but I simply couldn't stand the main character, whose insufferably smug attitude irritated me to the point where I genuinely struggled to watch him, let alone root for him.

 

After a second viewing, I can definitely see why I felt that way (the scene with the Michael Bolton guy is such power fantasy horseshit that it still makes me cringe), but I was more appreciative of Will's arc this time around. The opening collection of vignettes does some great work to subtly establish his psychological and intellectual complexities, and the fact that everyone around him responds so differently to his behaviour helps to explain his questionable choices. I still don't know if I like the guy, but I think I at least understand him a bit better now.

 

And besides, it's hard for me to remain annoyed when every other element has this much warmth to it. Damon and Affleck's writing remains emotionally authentic despite some overwrought dramatics, both Williams and Skarsgård elevate the story's resonance via their maturity and weariness, and Gus Van Sant captures the bittersweet tone with a keen sense of melancholy (even if using Elliot Smith is kind of a cheat code). Put it all together, and you've basically got the cinematic equivalent of a warm hug.

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. I don't think I ever noticed just how short Robin Williams was before now. Speaks to his force of personality, I guess.

#238. The War of the Worlds (1953)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Let's start with the positive: this is probably the most visually stunning sci-fi movie to come out of the '50s. The use of Technicolor brings a lot of beauty and legitimacy to the concept, and it causes these already impressive effects (the ships, the creatures, the death rays, and the explosions all look amazing) to pop that much more.

 

Unfortunately, as predictable as this may sound, the human stuff is where the movie continues to lose me. While the sheer volume of destruction is enough to provide some adequate stakes, and the tight nature of the script mostly keeps things from getting too draggy, the characters are simply vacuums of personality (which isn't exactly helped by the performances), and it quickly causes me to disengage with what should be a fun story.

 

Similarly, the resolution's a total letdown (I can still recall laughing out loud the first time I saw it), but it mostly gels with the hokiness at play, while also wrapping things up fairly tidily, so I won't complain about that one. Instead, I'll say that, despite the bulk of this thing being a bit silly and dated for my liking, I can at least respect how influential the technical and genre components have proven to be.

 

Grade: B-

 

#234. Frost/Nixon (2008)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Man, remember when American presidents could actually face the consequences of their actions? What a wild concept.

 

For the most part, Frost/Nixon is a safe and unadventurous historical drama (what else would you expect with Ron Howard behind the camera?), but the execution's smooth and direct enough that I find the whole thing really compelling. It just builds and builds in a way that feels both suspenseful and effortless, and it's not long before I'm gripped by a bunch of interviews that have already taken place.

 

Helps, too, that the movie humanizes these two people to the degree that it does. Nixon is correctly presented as a lying criminal, but there's a self-loathing loneliness to this depiction that gives the man some unexpected depth (and I like that Frank Langella does his own interpretation, rather than just an impression). And despite Frost coming off like a vapid playboy, you can sense his frustrations and inner turmoil at all times, and it lends that much more weight to the stakes of the story.

 

I don't know if I'm completely sold on the faux-documentary style (in my opinion, it detracts from the overall simplicity), and a few of the more sensational moments don't quite convince, but I think this is an otherwise impressive dramatization, with a strong central conflict, a good sense of rhythm, and a likeable team dynamic.

 

Grade: A-

 

#229. Miller's Crossing (1990)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1-2

 

The Coen Brothers are my favourite filmmakers, and have been for quite a long time now. Visually, tonally, stylistically, and even thematically, they simply make the kinds of movies that I want to watch. And while I don't necessarily adore everything they've ever made, the batting average is high enough that you'll more than likely grow tired of my endless praise before long.

 

For that reason, I chose to lead off with Miller's Crossing, which had never been a personal favourite (the dense opening half hour always kept it at arm's length for me). But, lo and behold, it totally clicked for me this time, so I guess that plan backfired. I've come around on the complicated plot and era-specific dialogue, and I'm finally able to see just how rich and moody the whole thing is.

 

Whether we're talking about the costumes, the comically large sets, the beautiful music, the muted cinematography, the wild set pieces, the squib-heavy violence, the dry humour, or the colourful collection of characters and performances (I'm especially partial to Jon Polito and J.E. Freeman, but everyone shines here), it all makes for a compelling drama, a terrific period piece, and a well-constructed slice of pulp.

 

So not only do I now view this as another Joel & Ethan masterpiece, but I can also recognize it as maybe the first instance in which their bizarre tonal aesthetic (namely, mixing serious tension with borderline-slapstick) came together in a way that only they could make work. It's just a flawless bit of filmmaking, and I doubt I'll give it the high hat ever again.

 

Grade: A+

 

#225. Like Mike (2002)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Saw this one with my cousins back when it was new, and the only stuff I really held on to was the fantastical premise, the scarring scene where Crispin Glover burns a photo of Jonathan Lipnicki's mom in order to get information, and that godforsaken theme song, which has played in my head every single time I've seen a basketball (or should I say, bas-ket-ball) court ever since.

 

Literally nothing about the central relationship between Calvin and Tracy left an impression (in fact, I had no memory of the Tracy character in general), which is funny because, as an adult, this was the aspect I liked most. It's a simple and predictable little arc, but it's also a sound and resonant one, and Lil' Bow Wow and Morris Chestnut have enough chemistry with one another that you completely buy the relationship.

 

Otherwise, the movie's basically what you'd expect: a cute bit of children's wish fulfillment. And even if the sugary energy and schmaltzy tone can feel a bit juvenile to an older viewer, there's still enough in the way of humour, innocence, and appearances (the cameos in this one honestly blow Space Jam out of the water) that I don't regret not leaving it in the past.

 

Grade: B

 

#221. Husbands (1970)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

In theory, I can appreciate what Husbands is going for. By presenting its themes (middle age, aimlessness, toxic camaraderie) in the ugliest and most obnoxious manner possible, the movie makes a pretty compelling case for the values of normal adulthood simply by removing them. It's a clever and poignant approach, with a ton of potential for interesting drama.

 

In practice, though, I just kinda find the whole thing tedious, irritating, and uncomfortable. Every scene seemingly goes on forever (especially the early one at the bar, where we spend upwards of ten minutes listening to these guys berate a woman for not singing well enough), the dialogue has that improv feel to it that causes most of the words to feel empty, and the characters are so insufferable that it quickly becomes difficult to care about them. 

And, yeah, I know this stuff's all probably intentional, but that doesn't make it any easier to sit through, frankly. I like the gritty cinematography, the chemistry between the three leads, and the occasional moments of introspection, but everything else continues to do very little for me.

 

Grade: C+

 

#217. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

Whenever I find myself thinking that the whole Avengers phenomenon might've been a bit overblown, I have to stop and remind myself that, when I was a kid, crossovers were only ever found in sitcoms, children's cartoons, and this haphazard curiosity.

 

That probably explains why I circled back to it more than once. I mean, it's not as though I was all that enamoured by the story or the action. Hell, even a handful of the characters went directly over my head at the time (I didn't know who Allan Quartermain or Dr. Moriarty were until years later). But I guess I simply liked the idea of seeing some literary figures team up to fight bad guys, because my memories of the movie were generally positive.

 

Now that I'm a bit older, its flaws are a lot more apparent to me (the plot never goes anywhere interesting, the character motivations are non-existent, the middle hour is a slog, and the special effects are genuinely terrible), but I still can't bring myself to hate the movie, either. Nostalgia aside, I love a good steampunk aesthetic, I doubt any movie with Sean Connery at its center could ever truly bore me, and there's something small and silly about the whole thing that I find almost refreshing in today's landscape.

 

Grade: B-

#213. Dark City (1998)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

A few weeks ago, if you had pointed a gun at my head and said that you'd shoot me unless I could tell you a single thing that happens in this movie, I would've been a goner. Literally all I could recall was the nighttime aesthetic, the towering production design, and Kiefer Sutherland being a weird little freak.

 

After a second viewing, I can kinda see why those were the only elements that left much of an impression (the story's a bit muddled and messy, the other main characters are mostly generic, and the noir tropes aren't especially original), but I found Murdoch's conflict to be fairly intriguing and compelling this time, and all the stuff with "tuning" and The Strangers made for more inventive worldbuilding than I'd remembered.

 

So while I still think the exposition could've been doled out a lot better, and some of those plot developments and reveals continue to feel like nonsense to me, the movie is ultimately distinct, ambitious, captivating, and energetic enough that I'd be surprised if it completely left my brain again. But, even if it does, at least I already know that the atmospheric and beautiful (and charming, thanks to some '90s CGI) visuals probably won't.

 

Grade: B+

 

#207. An American Werewolf in London (1981)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 2

 

There aren't a ton of horror-comedies that manage to succeed as both horror and comedy, but American Werewolf is one of the few that walks that difficult line nearly perfectly. And I think that's because John Landis never really allows the genres to get in the way of each other. As much the scares tend to come with playful nods to werewolf tropes (lycantropes?), they're also played straight enough that none of the intended intensity is lost.

 

But it's not just the balance of tones that makes this movie great. It's also the murky, fog-shrouded atmospheres, the simple-yet-effective locations (I'm a sucker for a spooky subway station scene), the fantastic music choices (why include just one version of "Blue Moon" when you can have three?), and, of course, those killer makeup effects. We're all aware that the transformation scene is iconic, but I'm also a huge fan of Jack's rotting flesh - particularly that little piece of skin that dangles from his neck.

 

Plus, there's something kind of lax and awkward about the movie that I find mildly endearing. Even if it makes the result a bit imperfect (some of the timing choices, like the ending, still don't fully work for me), it keeps things from getting too smug or clever for its own good, which ensures that the homage/contemporary equilibrium is just as sturdy as the horror/comedy one.

 

Grade: A

 

#202. Best of Enemies (2015)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

I despise televised debates, especially the ones centered around politics. They accomplish nothing, they never change anyone's opinion, and they always devolve into shouting contests where the loudest, most disruptive voice "wins". Frankly, just thinking about them irritates me, and I doubt I'll ever be able to forgive Gore Vidal and William F. Buckley Jr. (though the latter can forever fuck himself for many other reasons) for getting that particular ball rolling.

 

But while I have negative interest in watching two rich, entitled assholes pointlessly bicker with one another for an extended period of time (at least outside of a reality TV setting), this documentary does a pretty great job of presenting the subject matter in a way that's entertaining and easily digestible. It's snappy, it's fairly moderate, it includes a lot of enthusiastic talking heads, and it contextualizes the relevance of these men, both then and now, in a way that doesn't feel disingenuous or overblown.

 

Plus, I'm always a sucker for a historic doc that builds to a legitimate climax. So for someone like me, who knew practically nothing about either person or their encounters prior to my initial viewing, that ninth debate really bowled me over the first time, and didn't lose much of its power on a rewatch.

 

Grade: A-

 

#196. Singin' in the Rain (1952)

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

I usually feel a slight sense of trepidation when it comes to tackling the more popular and acclaimed movies, but not so much here. And I think that's because Singin' in the Rain is so pleasant and likeable and beautiful and entertaining that the positives basically speak for themselves.

 

Like, where to start? The gorgeous Technicolor? The catchy songs? The athletic choreography? The breathtaking pastel sets? The funny dialogue? The sharp industry satire? It's all so marvelously composed and effortlessly executed (despite the fact that these numbers are clearly exhausting) that you can't help but smile through the entire thing.

 

And unlike a lot of musicals from the time (or any time), there's not a single dull moment throughout. The title sequence, "Make 'Em Laugh", and "Good Morning" are all rightfully immortalized, but then you've also got the lovely "You Were Meant for Me", the energetic "Moses Supposes", and the show-stopping "Broadway Melody", as well as a fun showbiz plot and a cute romance in between all the winning numbers. It's about as joyous and perfect as Old Hollywood gets.

 

Case in point: the movie has appeared on pretty much every significant film list there is (including a top ten placement from both the American Film Institute and Sight & Sound), and you almost never hear any objections.

 

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.

#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.

 

#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

#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+

#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+

 

#163. Labyrinth (1986)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1, though I'm no longer certain I actually saw the whole thing, because all the stuff I remembered happens in the first half.

 

My fifth grade teacher actually showed this one to us, and, in hindsight, I'm glad she did. Ten is basically the perfect age to handle a darker fairy tale while still being kinda scared by it (okay, a few elements were downright terrifying to me - particularly Bowie himself), and that sense of danger really makes the whole experience feel stirringly vivid and real. 

 

Watching the movie again over twenty years later (I didn't enjoy doing that math), it still feels vivid and real, but that's mostly because I'm now far more appreciative of the '80s creativity on display. The practical puppets are adorably tactile and full of life, and the labyrinth itself is just a fantastic series of sets and set pieces. There's a new design and creature around every corner, and they all really come together to bring this nightmarish world to life.

 

Sure, the story becomes a little repetitive here and there, and it starts to lose some steam after the Fire Gang scene (though the Relativity-inspired climax gets us back on track), but this setting is ultimately so imaginative and weird that I can live with a meandering narrative. 

 

Grade: B+