#248. Timecop (1994)

 

 

When you watch the opening scene of this movie, in which a time traveler with futuristic weapons kills five Confederate soldiers and steals their gold, you can't help but feel as though the rest of the script kinda wastes its no-limits premise. Unfortunate as it is, if you're here to see some fights between major historical figures and cops from the future, you're gong to be extremely disappointed.

 

But that's when you need to remember that this is a Jean-Claude Van Damme movie. Like, with all due respect, the ceiling was only ever going to be so high. And, once you adjust your expectations accordingly, I think there's a lot to enjoy here. The story, while not nearly as playfully batshit as it could've been, is still creative and well-structured, the presentation is appropriately lean and grimy, and the supporting cast brings a decent amount of flavour and charisma.

 

Plus, there's the aspect that's always the best part of these sci-fi/action movies, and that's all the futurism/time travel stuff. Even if it predictably results in a thousand plot holes, it gives us some charming sets and designs (I especially love how wrong they were about what cars would look like in 2004), and it ensures a fast pace, which, along with JCVD's patented kicks & splits routine, keeps the action fun and engaging.

 

Grade: B+

 

#247. Disraeli (1929)

 

 

This is officially the oldest talkie I've ever seen (I seriously need to get around to watching The Jazz Singer at some point), and I think I'm beginning to understand why the technological advancement was initially met with some pushback. Like, as cool and charming as it is to hear spoken dialogue in a movie this old, the limitations regarding audio recording result in a very static presentation, with awkward blocking and a motionless camera.

 

Similarly, the storytelling's fairly primitive and formulaic, but at least this aspect was slightly less dry than I was expecting. Well, okay, the premise, about a prime minister's attempt to purchase the Suez Canal, didn't exactly have my heart racing, but there was enough of a strategy component (like Disraeli feigning an illness in order to trap a spy, or bluffing so that he could get a banker to sign a paper) that I remained at least somewhat invested in the plot.

 

Also keeping me invested was George Arliss, and not just because of the ridiculous haircut (was that thing painted on?). His performance may be hammy and over the top, but there's a playful mischievousness about him that both endeared me to the character and provided some much-needed energy and levity. If there's a reason to recommend this one to all the Best Picture nominee completionists out there, it's easily him.

 

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+

#245. Appaloosa (2008)

 

 

Appaloosa? Wasn't that the name of the woman from Purple Rain?

 

It's easy to see why this one didn't make bank. 2008 was a year of fast and fun blockbusters, so casual audiences likely weren't interested to see a slow, atmospheric throwback western. I know that's how I felt at the time. But now that I've developed a greater appreciation for westerns (and slower stuff in general), I can say I enjoyed it more than I probably would've as a fifteen-year-old.

 

No, the movie doesn't contribute much to its genre, and no, it doesn't quite have my preferred texture (there's something crisp and clean about the sets and cinematography that scans as false to me), but I think it otherwise generally pulls off the modest goals it sets for itself. The scenery's vast, the conflicts sizzle, and the violence comes fast and lethal, which makes up for the lack of visual legitimacy.

 

And while a few of the performances don't entirely work for me (Jeremy Irons is uncharacteristically benign, and Renée Zellweger looks a bit out of place), the central dynamic between Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen provides the necessary charisma. I was already aware that these guys had solid chemistry thanks to A History of Violence, but they're finally given the opportunity to shine as a pair here, and they make for a compelling, and cool, tandem.

 

Grade: B

#244. The Conjuring (2013)

 

 

Haunted house movies have never ranked very high on my list of horror subgenres (mainly because I don't believe in ghosts), but I can still find them effective if they keep things simple and sincere. And that's why something like The Conjuring works for me: it doesn't subvert a single trope, but it commits so hard to the material and atmosphere that the scares feel earned.

 

Sure, this means a lot of scenes where characters investigate strange noises and occurrences, but James Wan's direction is subtle and restrained enough to pull these moments off. Plus, they're generally restricted to the first half. Once the demonologists arrive, the approach becomes hands-on and investigative, with a team dynamic at play, both of which made the story much more enjoyable and compelling to me.

 

Also, you have no idea how relieved I was to see that the conflict was almost never interpersonal. So often in these movies, we get way too many scenes where characters either don't believe each other, or start behaving differently and no one catches on, and it's just nice to see one take the level-headed route. Makes for a more satisfying watch, and it also causes me to actually want the best for these characters, which inherently raises the stakes.

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. I spent most the movie waiting to see Patrick Wilson notice that Darth Maul-looking guy in the mirror, only to remember near the end that this happens in Insidious.

 

#243. They Drive by Night (1940)

 

 

A.K.A. The Road to Frisco

 

Bit of an interesting structure to this one. The opening half is centered around two brothers who transport goods across the country, avoid loan sharks, and try to work on their home lives. But then, a good chunk of the way through, we're suddenly introduced to a trucking business owner and his wife, the latter of whom basically becomes the main character once she decides to go after one of the brothers. 

 

Much like this wife character, the movie is arguably guilty of wanting to have its cake and eat it too. The pair of storylines don't have a whole lot in common on a character or thematic level (though I guess they both reflect the dangers of this lifestyle), the tone is kind of all over the place, and certain aspects of the story - particularly Bogart's subplot - fall a bit by the wayside.

 

In all honesty, though, I don't really consider this stuff to be actively detrimental. On the contrary, I actually think they keep the energy fresh, the pacing lively, and the plot unpredictable. And between the sharp writing, Raoul Walsh's solid workmanship, and Ida Lupino's compellingly maniacal performance, the movie not only manages to maintain its momentum, but kicks into an even higher gear once we reach the third act.

 

Grade: A-

#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.