Monthly Archives: September 2012

Review: An Affair to Remember (1957)

Cary Grant. Deborah Kerr. The Empire State Building. One of the greatest romance films of all time, according to the AFI. I fear I am going to upset more than a few people here, but I’m just going to have to say it anyway: meh.

Nickie Ferranti (Grant) and Terry McKay (Kerr) meet on a ship sailing from Europe to NYC. He’s a famous playboy who’s just announced his engagement to wealthy Lois Clark (Neva Patterson), and she’s in a stable, if boring relationship with a nice businessman, Ken (Richard Denning). Still, the two are drawn to each other, and by the time their ship docks in New York, they’ve agreed to meet at the top of the Empire State Building in six months’ time, having freed themselves from their relationships and found ways of supporting themselves. Naturally, it doesn’t work out quite that way. Terry gets hit by a car on her way to the meeting, and spends the next six months convalescing and refusing to contact Nickie because she has lost the ability to walk. Will he discover the truth? Will they live happily ever after? Please note that many of the “greatest romances” on the AFI list do not, in fact, involve the featured couples ending up together, so you really never can tell. Still, given the storyline here we can naturally expect some kind of confrontation, so I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions.

I know some of you are ready to call for my head, so let me say that I’m really unhappy with myself for being unimpressed with this movie. It’s such a iconic film (thank you, Sleepless in Seattle) and I love Cary Grant, and I was truly excited to see it. It’s beautiful to look at, but I found the plot and and the performances to be wildly uneven. Additionally, as I grow older, there’s something about people failing to communicate that drives me totally batty; when you base the entire premise of your story on that failure, I’m probably not going to be happy about it.

The first half of the movie is really fun. The flirtation between Nickie and Terry is quick and dry-witted, and they both carry it off well. Being wry and clever is what Grant does best, and Kerr matches him point for point. Even their romantic scenes in the first half of the film are fairly convincing. Their stopover in the Mediterranean (?) to visit Nickie’s grandmother is lovely; the characters find a certain comfort level away from the microcosm of the ship, and the actors do a good job of portraying that sense of ease.

The second act is where the problems start. To begin with, there is a fundamental change in each of the characters that would seem to be detrimental to any future relationship. These are not particularly wholesome individuals. Nickie is a known philanderer who is clearly intent on marrying money rather than a woman. Terry, too, is in a relationship for monetary reasons. She’s a nightclub singer, and her businessman pays the bills. As romantic as it seems for these two people of the world to “go straight” and live on love alone, it just doesn’t ring true here. Furthermore, the actors themselves seem far more disposed to the former mindset, rather than the latter. Grant, in particular, is much more suited to a certain shallowness of character, as much as it pains me to say so. I don’t want to spoil anything, so I guess I’ll just say that neither Grant nor Kerr managed to sell the climax of the film for me. Their chemistry seemed to be spotty, and again, they did better with flirtation than with actual romance.

Ultimately, though, it was the conceit of the story that lost me; Terry’s decision to hide her condition and not let Nickie know that she hadn’t deserted him just seemed contrived, and, well, stupid. I get that it was about pride and she wanted everything to be perfect, but I guess I’m just too practical for that kind of “romance.” Never mind the fact that all the waiting could mean that she would lose him. Perhaps that’s where the real romantic sentiment comes in: she had faith that he would still be waiting for her. But to put someone you supposedly love through that kind of pain is self-indulgent at the very least. Anyway. To get back to the film, while it’s a classic in many ways, I found myself unfortunately underwhelmed, which is not to say that it’s not worthwhile. Much of it is indeed enjoyable, and clearly a lot of people think it’s terribly romantic, so you probably shouldn’t listen to my two cents at all.

PS. One final thought, and this is a rhetorical question, but: If everyone wanted to sound like Marni Nixon, why didn’t Marni Nixon just play all of these roles?

SYTYCR Round 5 Review (not used): Napoleon Dynamite (2004)


Were you the weirdo in high school? It’s ok, you can admit it. I was. My friends were. Fortunately there were enough of us that we banded together and had quite an excellent little social circle. It’s hard to be a weirdo, especially as a teenager. Balancing that fine line between wanting to be accepted but still wanting to be yourself is what it’s all about. Don’t believe me? Ask Napoleon Dynamite.

In many ways, Napoleon Dynamite (Jon Heder) is your typical teenager. He’s usually hungry, looks like he’s half-asleep at any given moment, and is mainly concerned with looking cool and finding a date for the dance. He likes: martial arts, tater tots, drawing, and Chapstick. He dislikes: his family, especially his Uncle Rico (Jon Gries), a sleazy salesman type who still dreams of his glory days as a high school football hero, and his brother Kip (Aaron Ruell), who stays home all day hitting on “babes” in chatrooms, the popular kids at school, and getting beat up. See, Napoleon marches to the beat of his own drummer. Still, he’s a pretty decent guy, so he reaches out to a couple of fellow weirdos: Pedro (Efren Ramirez), who’s recently arrived from Mexico, and Deb (Tina Majorino), who’s shy but uniquely motivated. Together, the three of them will do their best to navigate the wilds of high school and, by working to get Pedro elected class president, find a way to stick it to the popular kids at the same time.

This is an odd little movie. It’s got all the hallmarks of your standard high school comedy, but in many ways, it’s more a collection of character sketches. There’s not exactly a single over-arching plot, but rather several different threads going on at the same time. There’s a certain amount of savvy in this kind of set-up, namely the fact that the movie’s intended audience has either already been through high school or is going through high school and can undoubtedly find things in common with Napoleon Dynamite and his friends. To cite a specific example, for those of us of the right generation, the introduction of the internet as a means of social interaction strikes a resonant chord. Beyond that, the major themes of alienation and acceptance are universal. Addressing those themes is what this movie does best.

With regard to the acting or the artistic work done on the film, it’s hard to have a marked opinion. The acting, though convincing, is fairly subdued across the board, in keeping with the apathetic attitude of its main character. Even the scenery and costumes seem designed to present a certain flatness; the film is set in a rural town in Idaho, so it’s pretty, but fairly bucolic. Even when tensions flare, the overall feel of the piece is on an even keel. All of this definitely serves to make the movie distinctive and adds to the feeling of being trapped in high school hell. The characters seem to take nearly everything in stride; rejection is par for the course here. The few occasions that actually contain more of a spark are quiet but poignant moments, heightened, perhaps, by the colorlessness of what comes before and after.

Despite this subdued nature, it is the characters themselves who are fascinating. Pedro is as confused and overwhelmed as any teenager, but his troubles somehow carry a different weight given his racial background. Hints of racism appear in a few scenes; one of multiple themes that are raised briefly and discarded again. Pedro takes most of these things in stride, carrying himself with a quiet confidence that things will work out for the best. Deb is a brightly colored artist among a sea of classmates in khaki, but she fades into the background due to her demeanor. Still, she is the only character who mentions going to college, unusual in a film about high school, and Tina Majorino manages to infuse her shy exterior with obvious passion and ambition. Napoleon himself exemplifies all of the vast potential of a teenager. He’s sullen but caring, unique but seeks acceptance, confident yet easily embarrassed. Above all, he is a true and loyal friend. Jon Heder is definitely the star here; it takes a rare talent to create a character both obnoxious and sympathetic.

I wasn’t sure to expect from Napoleon Dynamite. My initial impression based on the reports of others was that it was a particularly stupid depiction of teenaged life; mainly something to laugh at. In the final tally, I do think it is more than that. Obviously, audiences continue to find it entertaining and amusing, but I would suggest that to do so is to merely accept the movie at face value. If one focuses more closely on the characters, there seems to be very little to laugh at. I didn’t think they were funny because I have known these people. They’re just trying to get through the day with a little dignity intact. To look at someone like Napoleon and only see his odd interests and his unique sense of self is to see only half the picture. It’s possible that I am assigning entirely too much depth to the film. Perhaps it was only meant to be funny. Still, I would suggest that there is a great deal of inherent realness and humanity in these characters.

I fear I have made Napoleon Dynamite sound like a film of great meaning and emotion. That was not my intention. It’s only so-so as movies go, but it addresses the stereotype of high school from a unique and interesting perspective. Things don’t magically change at the end. Napoleon doesn’t become popular. He doesn’t get the hottest girl in school. Things stay largely within the same framework throughout, and that’s really very satisfying. So, a feel-good hit, then? It’s not that, either. Overall, I think it’s a simple piece that can work in a variety of ways. If you want to watch funny characters do and say funny things, you can do that. If you want to look a little more closely and see surprisingly real people, you can do that, too. There are probably films that do both better, but Napoleon Dynamite does things its own, special way.

SYTYCR Round 4 Review: Super Mario Bros. (1993)


Sometimes, a movie combines great actors with brilliant dialogue and compelling storylines. Sometimes, great actors can elevate a lesser script and make a movie better than it ought to have been. And sometimes, well, there’s just not a damn thing they can do, except get drunk and try to muddle through.* Sadly, in the case of Super Mario Bros., it is the latter case with which we concern ourselves today.

Based on the classic Nintendo video game, Super Mario Bros. follows heroic plumbers Mario (Bob Hoskins) and Luigi (John Leguizamo) as they travel to an alternate dimension in order to rescue Luigi’s new ladylove, Daisy (Samantha Mathis). Unbeknownst to them, Daisy is actually a princess in this other world, which runs largely parallel to our own. You see, when a meteor crashed into the earth 65 million years ago, things got split into two. In our dimension, humanity evolved from mammals, and in the other, a kind of humanity evolved from reptiles (namely, the dinosaurs). Daisy’s parents hid her in our dimension to save her from the clutches of the evil Koopa (Dennis Hopper), who has taken things over. Now Koopa wants to capture the princess and use a broken-off piece of the meteor, which is in her possession, to reunite the two dimensions, “de-volve” all humanity back into apes, and rule the world. Naturally, it is up to Mario and Luigi to save the day.

This is not a good movie. It’s got some really good talent (mainly Hoskins and Hopper) and the story is straightforward enough, but the execution leaves a great deal to be desired. To start with, we’ve all played Super Mario Bros. at some point, right? It’s all cute and primary-colored, and there are little mushrooms and even the bad guys are sort of round and funny-looking, right? It’s for kids. The film version? Not so much for kids. The action and language are PG enough, but the look and feel of the movie is something else entirely. It’s really dark and dystopian and weird. Most of the action takes place in the city run, by Koopa, as sort of a police state. It looks like the seedy underbelly of some major metropolis with a serious fungus infestation. Think Blade Runner, or something. Everyone is wearing their crazy, 90s version of futuristic fashions, and there are little dinosaurs running around instead of rats.

Now, the decision to make the movie a bit darker could have been a pretty good one, but for the fact that in 1993, video games were still mostly (please note I said MOSTLY) the entertainment of a younger crowd. As a result, what this movie has something of an identity crisis: it’s a kid’s movie that thinks it’s a grown-up. The dialogue and the action are pretty elementary, and while there are some scary/creepy/icky moments, they’re pretty low-key for the most part. Dennis Hopper doesn’t get to unleash the crazy nearly as much as one would hope for, and Mario and Luigi are plumbers from the Bronx who tell each other things like “Nothing is impossible,” and “I’ve got a feeling about this.” All in all, the look of the movie is its greatest asset, but it doesn’t suit the image of the source material properly.

The cast is somewhat divided as well, in that Hoskins and Hopper (along with Fiona Shaw as Koopa’s evil gal-pal, Lena) do a surprisingly good job with their characters, whereas Leguizamo and Mathis have little to no personality at all and mainly seem to be along for the ride. Fisher Stevens and Richard Edson, as bumbling minions, are supposed to provide some comic relief, but only end up adding to the weirdness of the whole thing. When Koopa gets tired of their incompetence, he has them “evolved” in order to make them smarter. Basically, they’re still bumbling, but their dialogue makes a shift from inane to Shakespearean. Adult audiences may find it funny, but the whole affair would likely go over a younger person’s head, in effect adding to the disconnect.

Finally, the secondary aspects of the storyline are nearly incomprehensible. The fungus that’s taking over the city is somehow a manifestation of the previous ruler, Daisy’s father, and it occasionally holds out a helping tendril, but it’s mainly only mentioned in passing, and a scene between Hopper and a fungus-ridden throne room, clearly designed as exposition, explains nothing at all. The mushrooms that pop up from time to time may have helped to clarify things somewhat had they been utilized more, but again, they’re only mentioned briefly, as though the creators realized they ought to make a few more references to the video game. Another small reference is the appearance of Yoshi, a baby T-Rex, who’s actually quite impressive, effects-wise. Overall the effects here are used sparingly, and thus effectively, but while they add to the interesting environment of the picture, they can’t save it from being a confusing mess.

The key here is that this movie doesn’t know who it wants to be. I actually think that if the producers had gone with a more kid-friendly vibe they might’ve ended up with a better picture. In their attempt to make it more in line with the fantasy ethos of the day (the early 1990s saw the rise of Tim Burton and 1994 would give us The Crow, for example), they lost something inherent in their source material. Mainly, I think that Super Mario Bros. was designed to tap into something gaining in popularity, but it was poorly conceived and executed. It’s a shame, really, given the talent they attracted and the potential for something visually unique and enjoyable based on the Mario world. Maybe Super Mario Bros. was ahead of its time. Maybe with today’s technology Hollywood could produce a better adventure for our plumber friends. It’s just too bad that Bob Hoskins will no longer be available.

*According to John Leguizamo, this is actually how he and Mr. Hoskins got through the experience.

SYTYCR Round 3 review: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (2001)


We all like to go back and rewatch old favorites. For most of us, watching a well-executed series flourish and grow is also an enjoyable experience. Combining the two practices, therefore, must also be something many of us enjoy doing, but, I would suggest that much may be lost in translation. Following a story from its beginning to its end, watching a series of events play out over a matter of years, necessarily alters our perception of the story as a whole, and in so doing, weakens our ability to go back and start all over again. I found this to be the case in going back to the very beginning and re-watching Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Beyond any annoying emotional feelings (“Look how tiny and wee and cute the trio is!”), I found it difficult to judge HP1 based on its own merit. It begs to be looked at from the perspective of its position within the larger narrative, so in some ways, that’s how I’ve been forced to treat it. Put another way: I tried really hard to pretend like I was seeing it for the first time, but I’m probably not going to fool anyone. SO, let’s just move on, shall we?

2001 saw the release of the film adaptation of the first book of J.K. Rowling’s wildly successful series about a boy wizard and his evil nemesis. Unknown kids, roughly the same age as Harry and his friends, were cast in the starring roles, and to support them, a veritable parade of the very finest England had to offer stepped into the shoes of the Hogwarts faculty and other adults. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone would serve as our introduction to Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe), and in turn, as Harry’s introduction into a world he had no knowledge of, but was destined to be part of. Harry, you see, is a wizard, although he doesn’t know it. He’s been living uncomfortably under the roof of some awful relatives, the Dursleys (Fiona Shaw, Richard Griffiths, and Harry Melling, all perfectly horrid), having been made an orphan at an early age. On his eleventh birthday, he comes to learn the truth about his life. His parents were part of a magical world in which they fought against the evil wizard Voldemort and lost. Harry himself ought to be dead, but something went awry, and in the wizarding world, Harry’s a celebrity: The Boy Who Lived. Suddenly, he finds himself on the way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he makes a few friends, a few enemies, and ultimately discovers that the fight against Lord Voldemort is far from over.

And we’re off! There was probably never any actual question that this first film, directed by Chris Columbus, would be a smash hit. It certainly was, and the series as a whole made history in a variety of ways. Still, this first venture couldn’t entirely have predicted all that future success, and so it is a reasonably modest affair. It’s very rudimentary in a lot of ways, but for the most part, that is acceptable. It is an introduction, after all. It sets the stage. It gives us Harry’s back-story, such as it is, and it sets up all the necessary components of the saga that is to unfold later. Taken by itself in retrospect, it’s actually quite the tidy little picture. The visual effects are totally worthy of Rowling’s vision, the acting is solid, the story entertaining, and above all, it leaves us wanting more.

There’s so much to see in Harry’s world. Even after all this time, I was struck once again by how Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, the game of Quidditch, and the climactic series of challenges looked as though they’d sprung from the pages of the novel. Likewise, the score and the overall feel of the movie lend us a sense of wide-eyed wonder and joy that all this could really be possible. Alright, so maybe the troll’s a little silly-looking, and some parts of the Quidditch match look a little fake. A certain flatness, likewise, may be attributed to the fact that this was a new venture and a new world into which we were all stepping, or perhaps to the direction. Either way, it is the obvious care and respect of the world being created that makes this film look so wonderful.

That care and professionalism carry over into the performances of the cast as well. Choosing unknown children to helm a franchise is undoubtedly a risky proposition, but I think that the decision to gather together some truly superb adult actors to back the kids up was a brilliant move. With the likes of Richard Harris (Headmaster Dumbledore), Maggie Smith (Professor McGonagall), and Alan Rickman (Professor Snape) on the roster, you know you’re going to get a good show. The talents of the adults, in my opinion, elevate the abilities of the children. Radcliffe, along with his counterparts Rupert Grint (Ron Weasley) and Emma Watson (Hermione Granger), while obviously still newbies, hit all their marks here and very seldom lapse into the kind of preciousness that one can sometimes expect from a “kid’s movie.” If their emotional investment lacks depth, well, they’re kids. They’ve got lots of growing to do, as do their characters. Ultimately, I’m just not sure that any known actors would have done a better job, particularly in this early stage where less range was required.

Like everything else here, the story itself is rudimentary. It’s a classic “unknown hero” scenario, with a previously unremarkable character finding himself thrust into a remarkable situation. The fun is in the details (like Quidditch and Wizard’s Chess), and in figuring out which way the battle lines are drawn. There are moments where a certain lack of polish can be seen, most notably in the final scene between Harry and Professor Quirrell (Ian Hart), which feels, at times, as though it were lifted from any Scooby-Doo episode ever written, but overall, the pacing is good and there seems to be an appropriate balance of humor and more serious matters. As has been previously mentioned, with this viewing in particular, I was truly grateful for the dearth of “cute” moments that could so easily have taken over a “kid’s movie about magic.”

That over-simplification is the trap that audiences could have so easily fallen into with this film. Yes, it’s a movie about kids. And magic. But mainly, it’s a movie about good and evil; about heroes and villains. Even in these early days, we can see the bravery, loyalty and courage that are being instilled in Harry and his friends. We are made to understand that Lord Voldemort is a real threat, and that there is darkness in this magical world. These themes belong neither to adults nor children; they are part and parcel of humanity, whether real or imagined, and they are the strengths of the Harry Potter series. The first film of the franchise, even with its designated duty to set things up, still provides us with some big ideas and a taste of things to come. Above all, the purpose of a first installment is to whet its audience’s appetite for what comes next, and in that, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone is eminently successful.

Eleven questions

I’m trying to catch up on some things, and so today, you get a bit of a questionnaire, supplied by Ruth over at FlixChatter. Here are my answers to her 11 questions:

1. Who’s your favorite movie actor who’s currently starring in a TV show?


I really want to say Nathan Fillion, but he’s always been more TV-oriented, so I guess I can’t count him. Is Gabriel Byrne still doing In Treatment? I don’t watch enough TV to answer this question, obviously.

2. Could you date someone who does not love movies?

Probably, but it wouldn’t be very much fun. My husband has gotten more into movies since we’ve been together, and it’s really great to watch things and embark on projects together. And he puts up with me talking about them all the time.

3. What made you want to have a movie blog?

See the above. I was just talking about movies constantly. Still do, but now I have an outlet for that. Plus, I’ve found opportunities for branching out in terms of what I watch.

4. Which director/actor collaboration would you like to see? [It has to be people who have never worked together before]

I want Kenneth Branagh to do a big-budget adaptation of Richard III, starring Geoffrey Rush. They haven’t worked together that I’m aware of.

5. What dish are you good at making?

I made some sweet potato scones the other day that my husband declared his second-favorite baked good ever…I guess I don’t really have a signature dish, though. Generally, most of the things I cook turn out pretty edible, if I do say so myself!

6. Any encounter with a celebrity you care to share?

My brother and a friend of his flew out to visit when we lived in LA for the express purpose of going to see the RSC production of King Lear starring Ian McKellen. It just so happened that Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson were attending the same performance. We didn’t talk to him at all, but we were standing less than five feet away from him at one point. He was a lot handsomer in person than I expected. Ian McKellen was also really awesome.

7. Since the Olympics is still going on, what’s your favorite movie set in London?

Probably Notting Hill. I love all the shots of the outdoor markets, plus they wander around a bit in the swankier areas, like Anna’s hotel.

8. Which is your favorite movie writer? [Could be a journalist, novelist, etc.]

I don’t know. Guess I haven’t thought about it much. Can I say Shakespeare, since he’s so heavily adapted? I do think Aaron Sorkin does good work; both The Social Network and Moneyball were impressive. Ooh, and Tom Stoppard! (Please note that the image above is Joseph Fiennes as Shakespeare in Shakespeare in Love, which was penned by Mr. Stoppard. So clever.)

9. Which do you prefer: sweltering heat or cool, rainy days?

Having experienced both today, including running in some major early-morning humidity, I’ll say rainy days, although it really just depends.

10. Favorite outfit/costume from a movie?

I think I’m going to have to probably be super-cliche and just say everything Audrey Hepburn wears in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It’s just all so iconic. I actually love her “slob” outfit toward the end, and have tried many times to duplicate it, but I just don’t have the right build.

11. Which actor/actress did you initially detest but then slowly warm up to? [Feel free to reverse the question, that is an actor you initially loved but now can’t stand.]

I used to really hate Drew Barrymore for no good reason, but now I am quite fond of her. She’s not brilliant, but she’s very charming and funny and she obviously works hard. Plus she produces, and I thought her directorial debut (Whip It!) was pretty good.

SYTYCR Round 2 Review: The Exorcist (1973)


I apologize for what is likely a tasteless bit of humor, but I can’t get past a silly wish that the tagline for The Exorcist had been “The Devil went down to Georgetown.” It just makes me giggle. And believe you me, since there are no giggles to be had when watching the movie (except for the creepy, possessed kind), a little humor might lighten proceedings. As I’m sure everyone is aware, The Exorcist is a horror film of the first order. Released in 1973, this tale of demonic possession captivated audiences, spawned sequels and copycats galore, and was even nominated for Best Picture by the Academy, the first horror film to be so honored. Today it is still considered one of the scariest movies of all time, full of iconic scenes, images, and sounds that can immediately strike fear into the hearts of anyone brave enough to press play.

Chris MacNeil (Ellen Burstyn) is a famous movie star, currently filming a movie in Georgetown, DC, where she is living in a stately brownstone with her daughter Regan (Linda Blair). Regan’s a happy, reasonably well-adjusted child, but when she becomes sullen, distant, and starts telling strange stories, her concerned mother takes her to the doctor. Through diagnoses of depression and lesions on her brain, Regan’s condition continues to worsen. Meanwhile, Father Damien Karras (Jason Miller) is struggling with questions about his faith and the death of his elderly mother. When all other answers have been exhausted, the possibility that Regan may be possessed leads Chris to Father Karras, who in turn requests permission from the Church to perform an exorcism. The Church summons Father Merrin (Max von Sydow), who has experience in such matters, to perform the ritual, but at what cost will the two priests succeed in their goal to save a young girl from a horrible fate?

I think that in this day and age, audiences may have a particular notion of what makes a horror film. Generally speaking, they’re thin on acting, continuity, and plot, and heavy on gore. The Exorcist, interestingly, claims none of these characteristics. It’s an incredibly taut piece of work; dramatic, slow-burning, and punctuated by some truly impressive performances. The story, though straightforward, finds its strength in showing us the natures of the people who suffer through this ordeal, and how the experience shapes them.The normalcy surrounding the supernatural makes it that much more terrifying: the slow struggle of multiple doctor’s visits, painful tests, and baffled discussions gives the audience so much more depth than your average slasher. The normal skepticism of everyone involved, and the attempts to explain away the unexplainable keep the tension building throughout the first half of the movie; the exorcism that serves as the climax of the film comes as a relief, a deep exhale that lets us know we’re finally on the right track.

Perhaps the most surprising facet of this film is the acting. It’s all first-rate. Miller’s Karras is a tormented soul seeking answers, and Blair as Regan does an incredible job of navigating the horrors she both endures and perpetrates. Max von Sydow is somewhat underutilized, but his place within the structure of the story helps to explain that: he arrives when there are no more questions, when it is time for faith and action. He brings calm and strength to the proceedings, and in that he is superb. It is Ellen Burstyn, however, who is the star here. Her performance is awe-inspiring as she moves through the stages of Chris’s reactions to the situation: confidence to concern to full-on fear, hopelessness, and despair. Her deterioration mirrors that of her daughter, and is, in some ways, the more dramatic of the two in that she has no scary make-up or special effects to fall back on. The strength with which she convinces her audience that she is, first and foremost, a mother who will do anything to protect her child, is the emotional centerpiece of the film.

Director William Friedkin famously used all sorts of unorthodox methods (a special refrigerated set, firing guns to surprise his actors, and so on) to capture the look and feel of his film, and his attention to detail truly pays off. It is that precision that elevates The Exorcist and makes it a good movie, as opposed to merely a good horror movie. There’s very little left to be desired in the finished product: it can be a bit slow at times, although the extra exposition helps to drive the narrative and keep the tension up. Even the effects of the 1970s, often laughable in other features, are used judiciously and to success here. The major strength is, as stated, the adherence to reality in the face of the otherworldly. It makes the audience feel as though the same things could happen to them, and how would they know any better how to deal with them? How would any parent react to such a traumatic series of events surrounding their child? By keeping things simple and allowing our imaginations and emotions to run with the story, The Exorcist gets inside its audience’s head, stays with it well after the popcorn has been swept away. Even those who are not a fan of the genre will find things to admire about this particular example.

SYTYCR Round 1 Review: Eraserhead (1977)


Ahh, Eraserhead. Such a quirky little gem. A charming tale of a put-upon boy who becomes the world’s greatest superhero after it’s discovered his strange, rubbery cranium holds the key to world peace. And the songs! Every one a small slice of lyrical genius. From start to finish, I just don’t see how anyone could watch this movie without a smile on their face…

Oh. Wait.

Just kidding.

Eraserhead is actually a cult classic sci-fi/horror film, the first feature-length movie directed by David Lynch. To say that it is the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen would likely be an understatement. There seems to be a small but vocal contingent of people who think it’s great, and probably more people who wish they could unsee it. It is open to a variety of interpretations, and so I’ll give you mine, although mostly I think that it defies interpretation and should just be seen as a work of art.

Henry (Jack Nance) lives in a bleak, industrial world. At all times, the hum of machinery and the hiss of steam is in his ears. This mundane existence is upended when he receives an invitation to his estranged girlfriend Mary’s (Charlotte Stewart) house for dinner. The usual awkward “dinner with the family” scene gets ratcheted up a few notches when Henry learns that Mary has given birth (prematurely) to his child, which is deformed. Mary and the “baby” (truly an alien, worm-like creature) move into his apartment, but Mary soon leaves because she cannot stand the baby’s constant wailing. Life become more and more bizarre for Henry as he struggles to care for the creature.

Seriously, a brief synopsis does this movie no favors. Eraserhead is not a conventional story, with things like plot and character development. It is, perhaps literally, a nightmare: a disjointed sequence of loosely-related events that have bubbled up from some dark place in Mr. Lynch’s mind. In my opinion, attempts to understand this film in any sort of conventional way will merely lead to frustration. The “nightmare” explanation is the best I can offer you. It’s a dark and disturbing abstract; the characters are ciphers with very little personality or interest, and the events make little to no sense. Lynch has said that this is a deeply personal film, and that it deals with his anxieties about becoming a father. It’s a valid explanation, but it doesn’t cover enough ground for my taste. As someone who likes to root around for meaning, I can come up with some English major-y type psycho-babble about the banality of life and the search for something more to one’s existence, but someone else would likely have a completely different interpretation, and the truth of the matter is that we are all left confused, and I’ll tell you something: I think we’re supposed to be.

Leaving aside the confusion for a moment, though, let me say that the sound editing and cinematography of this movie are first-rate. It’s shot in black and white, naturally, and the use of shadow and light to heighten the sense of uneasiness is extremely effective. Likewise, the mechanical noises, and the cries of the “baby” are crystal clear and front and center, so that we find ourselves in the same sonic landscape as Henry, and are just as desperate to escape it. I was really impressed by how Eraserhead looked and sounded, despite the weirdness of everything else. I imagine a lot of that credit is due to Mr. Lynch, although I felt that a lot of the camera angles and close-ups steered the film a little more toward camp than serious film.

In the final tally, I can’t tell you that I enjoyed this movie, but I can’t tell you that I disliked it, either. It was a vision of something, and even if I don’t understand or agree with that vision, I can appreciate it as having come from someone’s imagination. It was actually not as disturbing as I feared it would be, and I think that for someone interested in the progression of David Lynch’s work, it’s probably pretty important and instructive. I will leave such a study to others with less conventional taste than I, though, and say that Eraserhead is not exactly a work I would recommend: it’s more of a curiosity. Hey, I’m watching this crazy nonsense so that you don’t have to! Pretty good deal, no?