#36. Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970)

 

 

This is one of those war movies that feels more like a history lesson than a piece of drama. Generally speaking, that's not really my thing, and it doesn't always work for me here (especially in the opening forty-five minutes, which are ungodly dry), but I do think there's something admirable about the scrupulous, impartial approach that it takes.

 

Specifically, I'm talking about the fact that we get to see everything from both perspectives. And while neither side ever bothers to develop any of its characters, and everything runs kinda grey (especially on the American front), I think the movie finds some energy in those moments of cross-cutting as the tension begins to mount.

 

This pays off with the extended attack sequence, which, while overlong, is so technically remarkable that it mostly makes the slow build-up worth it. And I also appreciated that, right through to the very end, the movie never chooses one side over the other. I still think the emotional impact would've been far greater if the human element was more present, but, as textbook chapters go, this is an impressive recreation all the same. 

 

Grade: B

 

#35. Bubba Ho-Tep (2002)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

This is now the second time I've seen this movie, and both times I expected a lot more than I actually got. I mean, it's a horror-comedy where Bruce Campbell thinks he's Elvis Presley, Ossie Davis thinks he's JFK, and the two of them team up to fight an ancient Egyptian mummy. How could it possibly disappoint?

 

Well, the execution leaves a lot to be desired, particularly in regards to the limp story and sluggish pacing. And, like, I can appreciate the decision to give Elvis an existential crisis, but when it starts to take up the bulk of the runtime, and gets in the way of all the fun genre stuff, you can't help but feel as though the movie isn't living up to its fullest potential.

 

And that's a shame, because there are moments of B-movie greatness here. Campbell and Davis bring a lot more energy and gravitas than the script does, Coscarelli captures a lot of the concept's inherent goofiness, and I just love the retirement home as a horror setting. This is an amusing enough time, and it's far too creative and weird to outright bash, but I think this is also one of those cases where reading the plot synopsis is somehow more enjoyable than actually watching it.

 

Grade: B-

 

#34. Shoot the Piano Player (1960)

 

 

A.K.A. Shoot the Pianist

 

One of my biggest cinematic blind spots is the French New Wave. I saw one or two of them in university, but not nearly enough to even pretend to have an understanding of the movement. So I decided to dip my toe in with Shoot the Piano Player, which I chose entirely due to its 81-minute runtime.

 

And I'm glad I did. There's something catchy and uninhibited about this movie, from the free-flowing storytelling to the unpredictable camera movements to the unique blend of genres. It's messy, but it's also playful and vivacious (which also contributes to this being a good introduction to New Wave), and doesn't have much interest in playing by the rules.

 

But while I liked the style, I was also pretty invested in the narrative. Part of that's thanks to the mix of upbeat and melancholy moods, but it was mostly because I was able to connect with the Charlie character. This guy's sensitive and shy and confused in ways I immediately related to, which I think caused the emotional beats to hit even harder.

 

Grade: A-

 

#33. Dead Man (1995)

 

 

This is one of those cases where mood takes precedence over plot or characters, and that's generally how I like it. As a story, Dead Man really isn't anything all that special. It's slightly subversive in many ways, but it's also kinda tedious and one-note. Though I can't really find it in myself to care when the vibes carry such potency.

 

This whole movie feels like a dream, or like some hazy purgatory between life and death, between the natural world and the spiritual world. And it captures this strange state of mind through beautiful Western landscapes, sharp black & white photography, some deadpan wit, a handful of quirky performances (many of which are much briefer than I would've preferred, but I digress), and - my personal favourite - Neil Young's thunderous, hypnotic electric guitar scoring.

 

Do I know what Jarmusch is trying to say with this movie? Not in the slightest. Hell, maybe he isn't trying to say anything at all. But what I do know is that I found the whole experience to be surreal, whimsical, and even a little profound - perhaps because it's all so perplexing. 

 

Grade: A

 

#32. Angel Heart (1987)

 

 

Couple of interesting genres going on here. We've got a straight-ahead detective story, with dingy settings and down-to-earth characters, contrasted with a supernatural horror movie about voodoo and the occult where Robert De Niro dons long hair and sharp nails. I'm not sure the tandem always works (the more fantastical elements sometimes come off a little absurd in this context), but it's a strangely bewitching experience all the same.

 

One thing the movie definitely gets right is the descent aspect. From beginning to end, you can tell we're headed somewhere sinister. I guess one could argue that this causes the eventual twists to feel a little telegraphed, and I won't pretend that every step of the investigation is completely riveting, but I still love that you can feel reality slip away as we head to New Orleans and delve deeper and deeper into this unusual mystery, slowly removing the genre trappings until there's nothing left.

 

Tonally, this is a strange one. I can't tell if it's taking itself too seriously or not seriously enough. But I guess there's something about that weird middle ground that makes for some interesting atmosphere.

 

Grade: B+

 

#31. The Man Who Laughs (1928)

 

 

There's no denying the importance of silent cinema, but I should probably come clean early and own up to the fact that my attention span isn't always super compatible with these early movies. I'm hoping to eventually improve on that front, though, so I figured it might be a good idea to get my feet wet as quickly as possible. 

 

I started with The Man Who Laughs because I was expecting a horror movie in the vein of Dr. Caligari or Nosferatu, both of which I quite enjoyed. But while those Expressionist textures are definitely present, this is really more of a Hunchback of Notre Dame-style tragedy. I tend to be most drawn to silent dramas when the emotions are at their heaviest, though, so that was fine with me.

 

What I didn't care for so much was the long-winded and unfocused narrative. As heartfelt and tender as the romance was, and as compelling as Mary Philbin and Conrad Veidt are, it too often felt as though the two supposed leads were reduced to supporting players in their own story. Large swaths of the runtime are dedicated to the intrigue and corruption of the Royal Court, and that stuff just didn't grab me at all.

 

Fortunately, we end with a pretty strong third act, which features more melodrama, more theatrics, and even some swashbuckling action. This is no doubt a seminal movie; I just wish the whole thing was a little tighter and more consistent. 

 

Grade: B

 

#30. Oz the Great and Powerful (2013)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Caught this one at the theater with my family back when it came out, and I can still recall the experience being mildly disappointing. Watching it again over a decade later, it's easy to see why (the CGI-heavy visuals aren't really to my taste, and I always thought Franco and Kunis were distractingly miscast), but the positives suddenly stood out to me a lot more.

 

For one, after fifteen years of soulless Disney remakes, it's nice to see one that isn't a simple knockoff. This is a movie that has a unique story to tell and actually dares to take a few risks, even if those risks are often unsuccessful. Beyond that, I was more compelled by the underdog story this time, and I found that Weisz and Williams were both so awesome in their roles that they mostly undid the damage caused by the other two leads (which: I've changed my mind on Kunis; she's perfectly fine).

 

But I think the real saving grace here is Sam Raimi. This is far from his best or most characteristic work, but I was surprised to finally recognize just how much of his style can be felt throughout, from the dark visual tones to the campy sense of humour. Gives the movie some needed texture and bite, and it made for a more enchanting adaptation than I remembered. 

 

Grade: B