#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+