#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-