Everyone loves a good list*. Thankfully, our friends over at Rotten Tomatoes -- in anticipation of the new something-is-up-with-the-government flick (and probable yawner) State of Play; trailer here, if you must -- recently revealed one:
*As opposed to a bad list, like this one.
The 25 best conspiracy movies ever.
A note, before we break it down: The list is formula-based (percentage of critics who approve, average rating, etc.), so it's not decided by a committee. Therefore, films like JFK -- easily among the best -- missed out, because they didn't get unanimous raves*.
*The ones who didn't like Oliver Stone's masterpiece probably were in on the whole thing!
Thoughts ...
-Glad they recognized Blow Out (#24), a forgotten part of the John Travolta arsenal. An idea: Let's just think about this 1981 flick -- in which a B-movie sound designer stumbles upon a plot against a Presidential candidate -- when this nonsense comes out later in '09.
-Hot Fuzz (#20) is the only comedy on the list. What, did the plan to overthrow San Marcos' new leader not count?
-Seeing Minority Report (#19) on here just makes me angry. It still is the worst case of ending FAIL I can remember. What a way to blow an incredible setup.
-Finally caught The Bourne Ultimatum (#15) the other day, and it was pretty good. Can't say the same about Gone Baby Gone (#13), which had some strong moments and a confounding moral question at its center ... but overall felt a little hackneyed.
-Between Touch of Evil (#14) and Manchurian Candidate (#6), I'll take the one that was directed by the Wilt Chamberlain of filmmaking.
-L.A. Confidential (#4) is a little bit overrated. No Way Out (#8) is not.
-Speaking of overrated, I can't quite get the unconditional love for North by Northwest (#2). It has some great moments and a helluva score, but its plot registers high on the Convoluted Scale.
-Chinatown is No. 1, and no dispute with that. But two others are right up there: The Insider (#11) and The Conversation (#7) -- which just might be Francis Ford Coppola's best*.
*Yes, better than that overrated mob movie he made.
Omissions (other than Woody Allen's aforementioned Latin American satire, of course):
-JFK: Duh.
-The Alien series: It's not just a rabid, acid-blooded killer they're fighting ...
-The Usual Suspects: Or was it a conspiracy?
-The Parallax View: Like The Conversation, pure 1970s minimalism. Wow.
Huh? Exactly ...
Showing posts with label 1950s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1950s. Show all posts
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The Wilt Chamberlain (circa '62) of Filmmaking
OK, confession time*:
*First, let's hope the confession doesn't end up like the one at the beginning of this.
1) I'm not old enough to remember seeing basketball great Wilt Chamberlain play.
2) I'm not old enough to remember Wilt Chamberlain live (much)*.
*Aside: Although we're referencing Chamberlain, we won't talk much about this little detail.
3) Repeat 1 and 2, only in 1 replace "basketball great" with "filmmaking legend" and "Wilt Chamberlain" with this guy:
Yeah, so it's not exactly an original position for some film nerd to admire Orson Welles. But my point is this:
Welles' pre-1960s work wasn't just good for its era. Films such as Touch of Evil (the re-done 1998 version ... wow) and Citizen Kane are still good now. Like legitimate good, not "influential" good.
Which brings us to our Wilt Chamberlain/1962 analogy. Sure, during the 1961-62 season, the 7-foot-1 Chamberlain played alongside Hall of Famers like Oscar Robertson (Billy Wilder), Bill Russell (Alfred Hitchcock), Jerry West (Frank Capra) and Elgin Baylor (Elia Kazan). But come on. In '61-'62, Chamberlain averaged a league-record 50.4 points per game (Citizen Kane) and added 25.7 rebounds per (Touch of Evil). He was simply better than everybody else, even if he didn't win the MVP Award (Best Director Oscar) that year (during his career).
That all makes sense, right?
*First, let's hope the confession doesn't end up like the one at the beginning of this.
1) I'm not old enough to remember seeing basketball great Wilt Chamberlain play.
2) I'm not old enough to remember Wilt Chamberlain live (much)*.
*Aside: Although we're referencing Chamberlain, we won't talk much about this little detail.
3) Repeat 1 and 2, only in 1 replace "basketball great" with "filmmaking legend" and "Wilt Chamberlain" with this guy:
Yeah, so it's not exactly an original position for some film nerd to admire Orson Welles. But my point is this:
Welles' pre-1960s work wasn't just good for its era. Films such as Touch of Evil (the re-done 1998 version ... wow) and Citizen Kane are still good now. Like legitimate good, not "influential" good.
Which brings us to our Wilt Chamberlain/1962 analogy. Sure, during the 1961-62 season, the 7-foot-1 Chamberlain played alongside Hall of Famers like Oscar Robertson (Billy Wilder), Bill Russell (Alfred Hitchcock), Jerry West (Frank Capra) and Elgin Baylor (Elia Kazan). But come on. In '61-'62, Chamberlain averaged a league-record 50.4 points per game (Citizen Kane) and added 25.7 rebounds per (Touch of Evil). He was simply better than everybody else, even if he didn't win the MVP Award (Best Director Oscar) that year (during his career).
That all makes sense, right?
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Overlooked: The Killing
*Warning: The following post contains references to black & white images, straightforward narration and other frightening elements of pre-rating system films.
What to say about Stanley Kubrick that hasn't already been said?
My own comment: When looking at the late director's filmography, it's hard to believe the guy directed as few films as he did. Only eight after 1960. Only two after 1980.
Early on, in 1956 -- before helming legendary movies like 2001 and A Clockwork Orange and Full Metal Jacket and this unfortunate disappointment, and even before he made the I-can't-believe-Kubrick-did-that-one Spartacus and Dr. Strangelove (the best of the bunch) -- the peerless director crafted The Killing.
It doesn't carry the twisted vision later synonymous with the director. It's pretty much a straight, sinister, small-time crime film -- a group gets together to rob a horse track and make a killing (of one kind or another). The word "taut" gets thrown around a lot, but it's perfect here -- there really isn't much time wasted in the movie's 83 minutes.
Yes, like in many early films, some of the acting is wooden and the music a little excessive. There's also one character -- played by a hulking chess-crazy pro wrestler from Russia named Kola Kwariani -- whose dialogue was almost incomprehensible*.
*Seriously, listening to Kwariani in his couple of scenes, I felt like Brian Fantana talking to Ron Burgundy.
Still, those are small qualms with an otherwise slick, entertaining yarn. It's easy to see why this one often gets forgotten when talking about Kubrick's career -- it's not big/yuge/EPIC, like some of the others. But it's also easy to see why Quentin Tarantino liked it so much that he wanted to do his own quasi-version of it years later, with Reservoir Dogs.
And, in the end (literally), the film's final line belongs right there among the best ever:
"What's the difference?"
What to say about Stanley Kubrick that hasn't already been said?
My own comment: When looking at the late director's filmography, it's hard to believe the guy directed as few films as he did. Only eight after 1960. Only two after 1980.
Early on, in 1956 -- before helming legendary movies like 2001 and A Clockwork Orange and Full Metal Jacket and this unfortunate disappointment, and even before he made the I-can't-believe-Kubrick-did-that-one Spartacus and Dr. Strangelove (the best of the bunch) -- the peerless director crafted The Killing.
It doesn't carry the twisted vision later synonymous with the director. It's pretty much a straight, sinister, small-time crime film -- a group gets together to rob a horse track and make a killing (of one kind or another). The word "taut" gets thrown around a lot, but it's perfect here -- there really isn't much time wasted in the movie's 83 minutes.
Yes, like in many early films, some of the acting is wooden and the music a little excessive. There's also one character -- played by a hulking chess-crazy pro wrestler from Russia named Kola Kwariani -- whose dialogue was almost incomprehensible*.
*Seriously, listening to Kwariani in his couple of scenes, I felt like Brian Fantana talking to Ron Burgundy.
Still, those are small qualms with an otherwise slick, entertaining yarn. It's easy to see why this one often gets forgotten when talking about Kubrick's career -- it's not big/yuge/EPIC, like some of the others. But it's also easy to see why Quentin Tarantino liked it so much that he wanted to do his own quasi-version of it years later, with Reservoir Dogs.
And, in the end (literally), the film's final line belongs right there among the best ever:
"What's the difference?"
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