I know Kung-fu: 30 Days of movies: Day 5- Favorite Action Film

Alright, I know that I have verbose and have rhapsodized about this movie or that movie to appear all scholarly and shit. ¿Verdad? Right. Well, I sometimes get carried away by the sound of my own keyboard. Not today. This is a stripped down, no-nonsense, fist to the face style posting about movies that kick ass. If my other post have been Rush, this is Motorhead, motherfucker.

Hard Boiled (1992)

Is there any movie that is as ridiculously over-the-top in the action category as Hard Boiled? I mean, seriously, Chow Yun-Fat slides down a hand rail shooting two guns that never seem to run out of bullets. The shootout in the chop shop? Insane. Does the plot make sense? Does it matter?

The main cop’s name is Tequila, for fuck’s sake!

The bad guys have their secret hideout in a hospital!

I can’t take it. This is one of the ultimate “just don’t thin about it, dude” movies.

Ong-bak (2003)

There’s a whole “thing” happening with martial arts films from Thailand right now. This Chocolate and Raging Phoenix are taking the Hong Kong Wing Chun style of wire-fighting made famous in the U.S. through flicks like The Matrix and grounding them. Tony Jaa doesn’t fly through the air except for the leap to put his elbow right into somebody’s head. This movie was one of the most cringing movie experiences I’ve ever had. I watched most of the movie going “Ow, oh geez, ouch, shit.” I was amazed at the stunt work. Like, fuck man, there must have been so many concussions on that set. I mean, I’m sure there wasn’t because they’re all professionals and shit, but still. Jeez, just thinking about it.

The Matrix (1999)

Speaking of being drained for your electrical energy by robots, I still get a kick out of this movie. I am not nearly as anti-sequel as some other people are about The Matrix, but I didn’t enjoy them nearly as much. Even with Monica Belluci in them. The last one was just laughable (which is what we did when we caught it in the theater, loudly and with many hysterical fits that ended in “Oh my God, this is great.” Even though it wasn’t.) but it finished the story up in a completely what the fuck way, which is fine with me. The first one was all “You’ve lost the game by thinking about the game” kind of deep while adding kung-fu, slow-motion, and a shit load of bullets. Yes, slow-motion was a tool.They brought a gun to the book club meeting and I loved it. Cornel West (whom I think is a genius) was one of the “Council of Zion” members in the sequels and did the commentary for the movie on the giant 10-disc (or something) box set of the whole series. We have one at work and if it’s still there in 8 paychecks, I’ll get it. Maybe. Probably not.

The Wild Bunch (1969)

I just love Westerns in general. The Searchers, Once Upon A Time In The West, Unforgiven, Silverado, The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly, True Grit, The Proposition (which, by the way, makes for a horrible date night movie- you live, you learn),Rio Bravo…any of those could go here, but I love The Wild Bunch because of the beginning shootout (a standout of editing – you can be forgiven if you think you see one of the bandits take a shotgun blast to the face, you don’t though) and the final bloodbath. As William Holden and Ernest Borgnine mow down the Mexican Army with a machine gun, the Wild West comes to a close. These two relics of a time that has all but been extinguished by progress fight to their last breaths because they valued standing up for what was right more than they valued their own lives. And as they begin to lose, taking bullets left at right, Ernest Borgnine screaming “Give ‘em hell,Pike!” the orgy of blood comes to a close with a rifle shot fired from a kid no older than 12. A barrage of bullets cut through Bill Holden and as ol’ Ernest dies besides his best friend, he whispers “Pike…Pike” before the West is finally lost..fuck,man. That movie is bad-ass.

These are just some of the great action films that I would call my favorites. Also on this list is the great Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (which will show up later on in the 30 days), Deep Rising, Hot Fuzz, Speed Racer, Watchmen (again, we’ll get to that later), Hunt For Red October, Iron Man, Inception, Dark Knight, and, I guess, a dozen more.

You might want to try believing in something bigger than yourself. It might cheer you up. 30 Days of Movies: Day 4- Favorite Drama

American Splendor (2003)

Another entry in the genre of “schlub cinema” is the story of Harvey Pekar. This movie could qualify as a comedy, I guess, but I find the humor is buried beneath layers of pain. Harvey’s marriage breaks-up; we laugh because he can’t ask her to stay because of his laryngitis. We laugh whenever Harvey is being curmudgeonly, which is often because, let’s be honest, that what we expected out Pekar. This movie is a portrait of a man who gets by doing what he loves, sharing stories of his life and his philosophies while working a job doing menial task. He truly is “our man.”

There are so many things about Harvey in this movie that I keep close to me as comfort that I’m not the only one like this: the way Harvey describes his obsession with collecting things (especially records), the way he wakes up out of a nightmare to the reassuring realization that he has job (“let’s face it, without a job, I wouldn’t know what to do”),  and his troubles with women brought on by his own insecurities (at least I recognize that it’s my insecurities, right?).

Part documentary, part dramatization, part love letter to the guys who punch in/punch out everyday and know there’s more to life than what’s been handed to them.

Terrence Malick (1973, 1978, 1998, 2005)

I won’t lie. I am not able to write about the work of Terrence Malick. It isn’t for lack of want. I can not express in words how his movies move me. It isn’t that they’re particularly enthralling dramatically or exciting. People find him boring and with good reason. His movies are long and quiet. Long shots of wheat fields and the light shining through trees while a voice over talks about “what is the meaning of it all?” or something like that. Not a lot happens and there are very little pyrotechnics, either in the acting or in the action. His movies don’t provide the easy narrative of most genre films. Motives are sometimes cloudy, hard to understand. The characters are not completely themselves: Martin Sheen’s Kit (Badlands) is a psychopath playing the role of a rebel without a cause in a real life lovers-on-the-lamb scenarioRichard Gere spends Days of Heaven pretending to be the brother of his lover. Even after 20 years away from the director’s chair, Malick returned to movies, still frustrating people’s expectations of what was acceptable  in a mainstream film. Thin Red Line is a war film more concerned with the effects of war on a man’s soul then a bullet on a man’s skull.  What kind of war film is that? Especially given that it was released shortly after Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, which definitely provided the audience with everything it needed to have to “enjoy” a war film. Guts, heroes, and a feel good philosophy: one man can make a difference. Thin Red Line  instead straight up ask, “What difference can one make in all this madness?” A character is chastised for his unwillingness to sacrifice his men to the meat grinder of battle. Sure, we sympathize with him, because he is human like us and he understands that this is madness even if he can’t fathom it. In the end, though, he was wrong. A charge up the hill and, goddamnit, that hill was taken.

No. I can see why people don’t like Terrence Malick movies.

These things,though (the lack of “proper” storytelling, ambiguous characters, “deep” thoughts (or even just music) paired with images of the incidental beauty of the world just existing. I even like The New World enough to where I own both versions of it.

But, I can’t talk about his movies. I’ve read the books that dig deep into the philosophical aspects of Malick’s work. His interpretations of Kierkegaard and translations of Heidegger. There are better writers who can do a better job of describing what his work does than I can. I wish I could express to you the sights and sounds of a Terrence Malick, but this is what it is for me: It’s like being able to watch the universe expand while Explosions in the Sky plays. That’s the best I can do. Sorry.

Breaking the Waves (1996)

Where Terrence Malick shows the audience beauty in the minutiae of nature (a soft breeze caressing a blade of grass)  and vast expanses of nature (giant panoramic views of the yet unspoiled New World), von Trier gets in close to show us the broken spirit that resides in people. Dogville  was another great movie about seemingly good people becoming savages. There are no words to properly describe what happens to you while watching a Lar von Trier film. Assault might be a good word. After I saw this in the theater, I walked across the street to the record store I worked at. A coworker named Tim saw me walk in, dropped what he was doing, and rushed over to me. This was the conversation that followed:

Tim: “Oh my God, are you okay?”

Me: “Huh? Uhhhhh….yeah? Why?”

Tim: “I don’t know, man. You look like someone shot your dog. Like you were in an accident or something.”

Me: “Ooooohhhhh, *nervous laugh* nah no no….I just watched Breaking the Waves and, fuck, man, that movie was…like two hours of a fire and brimstone enema.”

Tim: “Whoa. That’s all, just a movie? God, you looked horrified. So it was bad?”

Me: “Oh no, it was great, you should see it.”

This movie is equally beautiful to look at, like something out the ’70s art house/independent era, but the people are grotesques. Emily Watson’s performance here is the benchmark by which I hold most actors in serious roles. It is explosive, tragic, and heartbreaking. The scenes where she talks to God (and God talks back?) are uncomfortable in how they bring to question if this woman (our protagonist, our heroine) is in her right mind or if maybe there is something divine in her. She is Christ-figure: a lamb who must suffer the wrath of the church and the world around her out of love and will suffer ’til death because it is the will of God that it happens to her. This movie is still a gut-wrencher and has the distinct title (privilege?) of being a movie I never want to watch again, but will always love for the experience.

All our heroes will die, eventually.

When I was, oooohhhh I don’t know…it was 1991 (or ’92), so I was 14 or 15 years old, I went to my very first rock concert. First concert that I wasn’t dragged to. First time I saw a show coming to town and said, “I want to to see that band play!” It was Living Colour at (what was then called) the Universal Amphitheater. We sat in the balcony, fairly centered. It was me, my bass instructor (who got a kick out of it) and some other dude (a friend of mine at the time…we’ll call him “Travis” because I’m pretty sure his name had a “t” in it). The opening band was Primus, out supporting Frizzle Fry and damn they were weird. Living Colour was good. Just like the videos I’d seen. Pretty rockin’.

Here’s the point: Living Colour broke into a cover of Tracy Chapman’s “Talking ’bout a Revolution” and Corey Glover said something that I thought sounded so cool: “The Revolution will not be televised.” A couple of days later, I read the review of the show in the L.A. Times, and that was the first time I became aware of the name Gil Scott-Heron. That name would stick with me as I became more aware of the injustices in our society and the inequalities around me.

A powerful writer and speaker, he will always be remembered best by the world for his talk of revolution. I will always remember him best for the ride I took in my friend Richard’s car one summer evening as we ventured into Hollywood to see some band or another play. “Whitey on the Moon” played through the speakers and I felt the frustration in my soul.

I hadn’t followed Scott-Heron’s work faithfully and would say that I had only given his work a cursory listen. There are people, however, whose being provides comfort. Knowing that there was someone like Scott-Heron standing up and speaking for many people who couldn’t…”who will pay reparations on my soul?”…such a clear voice…so powerful…

never to speak again…but we have the records and we can still be touched by them.

I’m sorry, there was a bigger point here. This article is a beautifully written remembrance of Mr. Scott-Heron that made me a little teary eyed. Yes, I can be human sometimes.

This article made me remember another touching remembrance written when the great Harvey Pekar passed away. Harvey was a hero. An inspiration. His passing made my heart ache. This article was written by someone who was touched by Pekar’s work and had actually had the opportunity to meet and work with “our man.”

People like Gil Scott-Heron share their worldview with us and, if we let them, can alter our way of thinking forever. And even though the voices of these people, these heroes, become silent, they will never die out as long as we keep their words alive.

 

I love Christopher Nolan. That is all.

“What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?” 30 Days of Movies: Day 3 – Favorite Comedy

Everyone loves a good laugh. Even Gargamel, who I suspect spent his off-time watching All In the Family reruns. Why not? I do. That’s one thing that me and the big G have in common. Another is that we’re both bigots against little blue people. Stupid Krishna.

Anyways, here’s some movies that I have laughed at (or with, whatever):

Steamboat Bill Jr. (1928)

It’s hard to really narrow down which Buster Keaton is my favorite, but this one has the “ol’ house collapsing around him” bit. That’s a good bit. The cyclone scene is the showpiece of this one, but there’s a lot of hilarious stuff here: Buster’s attempts to busts his dad out of jail, the reuniting of Bill Sr and Junior at the beginning of the movie – the dad’s hopes for a big, strong son crushed as his “fancy college boy” son lullabies a baby with a ukulele, Buster’s one man piloting of the steamboat – saving the day and winning his dad’s respect in the process. The finale also has one of Keaton’s best closing punch lines: Bill Jr. has saved the girl from drowning in the flood and she rewards him a kiss. His response is to jump back into the waters with a life preserver and bring back a preacher.

There used to be this tiny theater in Hollywood that showed nothing but silent films. The showings almost always had live organ accompaniment, giving it just the right retro/nostalgic feeling.  The theater only had showings on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights and a matinee on Sunday. The weekend shows were the same, but the Wednesday shows were always different. One April, the entire month’s program was dedicated to Buster Keaton.Watched Steamboat Bill Jr, Sherlock Jr (if not my favorite Keaton, then definitely the next favorite), Our Hospitality, The General, and on my birthday I took a date to see  Keaton’s talkie Speak Easily (which has Jimmy Durante’s great mangling of “Singin’ In The Rain”). Oddly enough, she never went out with me again.

There’s Something About Mary (1998)

A shockingly laugh-out-loud-funny moviegoing experience. One of the best times I’ve ever had at the movies. At least where I was actually watching the movie (boo-ya). The movie is raunchy, stupid, absurd, offensive, and fucking hilarious. I was doubled over laughing for most of the movie and actually missed jokes because I was laughing so hard. It’s hard not to laugh at Ben Stiller’s fear that he’s taking a “loaded gun” out on a date resulting in cum in Cameron Diaz’s hair. Of course, the “dick in a zipper” scene was uncomfortably long, which is what made it so funny, and I can watch “Ben Stiller vs. the dog” on repeat just for the Three Stooges eye-poke reference. This is the kind of ridiculousness that makes going to the movies worth it. Classic.

One thing I find funny is on the U.K. posters for the film, Lee Evens is given “above the title” credit. One of the things I really liked about about There’s Something About Mary  was that it had two of my favorite “underrated” comic actors in featured roles: Chris Elliott (who’s in one of my favorite “guilty pleasure” movies (which I’ll get to some other time) and Lee Evans (who made a fan out of me  in the dark comedy Funny Bones a couple of years before this). I just like the idea that to sell the movie to filmgoers in the U.K., they needed to have Lee Evans name, because, really, did anyone but Matt Dillon have much of a name before this movie?

Groundhog Day (1993)

There’s probably not a lot more than can be said about how awesome Bill Murray is. Groundhog Day, What About Bob?, and Rushmore are all on my list of favorite comedies, but for the sake of space, let’s just focus on this one. Well, for the sake of space and the fact that this is one of the greatest movies to come out in my lifetime. Argue it if you want. Go ahead.

Groundhog Day falls into a category of movie that I call “schlub cinema”. I’ll go into greater detail about it at a later time, but it’s a category of movies about men who have been tossed into existential crisis and end up spending the movie searching for “the meaning of it all.” I use the word schlub because these men are usually losers. Sure, Phil Conners (the cocksure prima donna weatherman played by Murray in Groundhog Day) doesn’t really seem like much of a loser at first. In fact he seems more like the egotistical Bill Murray-esque character that we’ve seen in Stripes, Ghostbusters, and Scrooged (man, Murray really is golden,isn’t he?). But once Groundhog Day begins repeating on him, the facade of a confident man is broken down and what’s left is some sort Rod Serling comic protagonist; a man with only an empty past to look at as he apparently has no future ahead of him. When he’s run out of hedonistic pleasures to pursue, he’s left only with a future of his empty self and nothing else. This is where the movie descends into a curiously morbid territory as Phil “kills” himself repeatedly.

This is a comedy we’re talking about, verdad? Yeah yeah yeah. It’s so much more than that, though,dude. The very idea of repetitious awfulness  has become synonymous  with Groundhog Day. I don’t know very many people who have watched this film and not not been  touched by something deeper than “that dude did the same day over over. Ha ha.” It sticks with you. Sure, it’s funny (it’s fucking hilarious, actually),but it’s also a deep examination of a “schlub’s” humanity.

This is what makes this comedy so special. A character is put through existential hell (the movie has been used by Catholics as an example of the concept of purgatory, as well) to find a truth about himself and his life that he could never could have discovered without his dive into the abyss that was a millennium of the same day.

Yes, I said millennium. I’m of the school of thought that he was stuck in Groundhog Day for a very, very long time. And yes, I also accept that he was only stuck there for “a day” and I accept that time is just a human construct and yada,yada,yada. Still…a millennium. He learned to ice sculpt, to speak a foreign language,play the blues piano, timed a perfect bank heist, and spent close to an eternity learning to be able to stand  Andie MacDowell. These are skills that take time to perfect. Many lifetimes. A (say it with me now) millennium.

Also,the part where Phil Conners punches out Ned? One of my favorites parts of any movie.

Ever.

“Make ‘em Say “Ugh”. 30 Days of Movies: Day 2 – Least Favorite Movie(s)

I am opinionated as f**k.

There. It’s out in the open. If this was a support group, we’d all be sitting around in our little circle of chairs and I would stand up and say, “Hello. My name is Scott and I am opinionated as f**k”, and you all would say, “Hello, Scott.” I have come to accept this not so much as a personality flaw than as a nervous tick that kicks in when people say things I don’t agree with. It’s tourettes, basically. Uncontrollable explosions of verbiage that immediately make me feel like I just popped someone’s balloon with chainsaw. It has sometimes led me to make overly bold statements that usually end in the word “ever.” Such as “Something something is the best(or worst)  band/movie/book/meal/job/person/song/comic book/religious tract ever.” Now that we have that out of the way, can we get on to my least favorite movies EVER?! Okay:

Fight Club (1999)

Longest movie about a little boy just needing a hug ever. I may be off here (I doubt it,though), but I every time I see some douchebag in Tapout gear or an Ed Hardy shirt, I know they love Fight Club. The plot of the movie is basically the same as any wrestling program (or gay porn): bits of dialog before some sweaty men began rubbing up on each other. It is uber-masculinity played to such an absurd level that I should be convinced that it’s a parody of “manly manly men” syndrome. Even if it is, the following it has gathered of meatheads who actually buy into Tyler Durden’s way of thinking makes it scary. It’s a technically well made movie, with some pretty good acting by the pair of  Brad Pitt (as psycho prophet Tyler Durden) and Edward Norton(as shmuck), and it’s got some good bits to it. As impressively shot/directed/acted as this movie is, it is philosophically offensive. Once you wipe the stylized man goo off and see what’s  underneath, it’s a disturbing celebration of barbarism and misogyny.

There is only one real female character in the movie and she just seems to be around for the boys to screw. Women (as a gender in general), however, are everywhere in this movie. It could even be said that women are the entire point of the movie. In her book Dames in the Driver’s Seat: Rereading Film Noir, Jans B. Wager says:

“Rich women arouse only ridicule and contempt and seem to stand in for the capitalist venture— ironically, a venture dominated by white males. The same displaced contempt infuses Tyler’s version of the problem with his generation: ‘‘We’re a generation of men raised by women. I’m wondering if another woman is really what we need.’’ Women, wholly and physically absent from the narrative except for Marla and Chloe, nevertheless carry the blame for society’s masculine malaise. Not only is each individual woman guilty, women in general constitute the problem against which the male characters of the film must do battle.”

Being a man raised by a woman, I can unequivocally say that it made me a better person than having my father around ever could have.  Being a man raised by a Latina, I also see another disturbing facet to Fight Club: the movie has garnered a solid cult following over the years and I wonder if there would have been nearly as much critical and audience attention in favor of it  if the main protagonist hadn’t been an upper-middle class white boy. It has also been commented that Fight Club could be viewed as an allegory on fascism, with the use of human fat to make soap being a reference to the holocaust. I had never really given that much thought before, but if that’s how you want to see it, go for it. Just don’t tell me that this movie is about men reclaiming their masculinity from the clutches of corporate culture and feminism.

The Boondock Saints (1999)

Christ, punch me in the balls if I have to hear one more person talk about how great this movie is. This was a marginally entertaining film about two brothers who go to war with the mob, but the non-stop “Oh my God, this is the best movie ever!” from co-workers and customers at the record store I worked at was enough to drive me straight from a rational critic of the movie to unflinching hatred for the movie. This flick has actually made me bigoted against the Irish. Okay, that’s a lie, but seriously,dude, it’s not that good. It’s all posturing and stylization without any depth. Although, the same can be said for The Usual Suspects, which is a movie that I actually like. So maybe I do hate the Irish. No, I don’t. Stop saying that.

It’s been maybe a good 10 years since I’ve seen this movie (were they good because I hadn’t seen this movie? Hmmmm…), and I can only recall bits and pieces. Like the ridiculous ending where the cop joins up with the killers to exact justice on criminals, the two avenging brothers now reunited with their hitman father who was previously sent to kill them but realized that they were his kids after they recited some family prayer or something. So, their dad had a change of heart and didn’t kill them despite being a cold blooded killer who abandoned them for a life of Irish Mob-itry. And the cop, who was a cross dresser for some reason (if I remember correctly) realizes at the very end of the movie that “whoops, these are the bad guys, what did I do by joining up with them?” Did I get that all right? Is that what it is? ‘Cause it’s pissing me off just thinking about it. Stupid movie.

Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999)

I’ll keep this short, since I’ve already rambled on about Star Wars before and I more than likely will again. Shut up, I’m not a nerd, you’re a nerd.

Nerd.

This was after having watched George Lucas try to re-invent history (*nerdvoice* “Han shot first.”) and after he had done away with the “nyub nyub” song at the end of Jedi. It wasn’t Jar Jar, it wasn’t the midi-chlorians, it wasn’t the pod race scene, it wasn’t the racist depiction of alien species, it wasn’t “Yippee”, it wasn’t Lil’ Darthy accidentally blowing up the space station and saving the day (Okay, it was that a little), it was just how boring Lucas made the back story of the biggest badass in the galaxy. It was disappointing. Sure, it took 12 times viewing it before the adrenaline of “Oh my God, there’s a new Star Wars movie” wore off and I began to look at it for what it was. Which, honestly, was another thing that turned me against this movie – that feeling of getting duped. It’s not a horrible movie and Lucas shows off a skillful eye in parts. The costume design was pretty good, the Sith hiding in the shadows could have made for some great future drama if Darth Maul hadn’t been killed off, the Senate chamber, the Jedi Council, and (my favorite) the climatic lightsaber duel were all elements that I can still appreciate. But the rest is a mess.

So, now we got the tough ones out of the way. Favorite movie? Check. Least favorite movie(s)? Check. Clear sailing from here on out? Big Check. Right?

It just dawned on me that all three of these movies came out in 1999.

1999: The year cinema went fart.

By protecting others, you save yourselves.30 Days of Movies: Day 1- Favorite Movie

Seven Samurai (1954)

I’m not going to waste a whole lot of time discussing the complex (some would say convoluted) balloting system used to determine the winner of the “Scott’s Favorite Movie” Award, but I will say this: that was the worst use for a slingshot ever. That poor penguin.

I will, however, spend a whole lot of time discussing Akira Kurosawa’s 1954 masterpiece Seven Samurai. Released several years after the life-affirming Ikiru (called Kurosawa’s “greatest film” by Roger Ebert), Samurai didn’t just raise the bar for Japanese chanbara (swordplay) or jidaigeki (period)movies, it became a touchstone for Western filmmakers. I mean Western both in the Western Civilization way and in the “We’ll head them off at the pass” way. For the uninitiated, here’s Donald Richie’s bare bones explanation of the plot:

“The story is simple. A village is harassed by bandits. The villagers ask the aid of a masterless samurai who in turn gathers others, a group of seven – they themselves as outside society as the robbers they are asked to fight. They plan their defense and carry it out. A number die, and the villagers are grateful for the protection rendered. But it is spring planting season; they have things to do. “

This quick synopsis distills the 207 minute movie down to a mere droplet, but the story itself isn’t that complicated. It’s what’s bursting out from the frame of that simple story that makes this movie so exciting and fun. The characters are what make this movie come alive. When the villagers set out in search of samurai, we are treated to a Mos Eisley-like town full of prideful, pompous samurai. The search for samurai could have filled a full 3 hour movie in itself, but Kurosawa gives us all we need to know about each of the seven heroes in quick introductions. They win a duel here, cut some wood there; all give just a couple of lines of dialog that show us what great characters they are before they become part of the team. We immediately get a feel for the polar opposites that are represented by Takashi Shimura’s thoughtful, noble Kambei and the great Toshiro Mifune’s wild,unpredictable Kikuchiyo. These are the fan favorites (obviously), but each of the seven brings a talent, even if it’s just being a poor swordsman with a good sense of humor.

The way that the characters prepare for the final battle (and the way the villagers become lil’ warriors themselves) builds to a climax that is bittersweet. Of course the village is saved and the battle is won but we are cheated out of feeling victorious. There is no victory song, no dancing with Ewoks on the corpses of the bandits, there is just three samurai left mourning their dead comrades and farmers that have to get back to the business of farming.

Even 57 years later, Seven Samurai  is still inspiring filmmakers. Samurai has been remade several times, most notably in 1960 with director John Sturges replacing medieval Japan with the American Wild West in The Magnificent Seven (starring Yul Brynner and Steve McQueen). There was something lost in the translation from samurai swords to six-shooters, but it’s still a good time at the movies. Beyond that, a recent anime took the story and expanded it to almost double the length, and the story of  “getting the gang together for one big score/battle/mission” has become commonplace.

I just recently realized that this movie wasn’t in my (pretty dwindled) DVD collection, so I picked up the 3-disc Criterion Collection edition. Some of my favorite parts: Kyuzo’s duel with the unknown samurai in the field, Heihachi’s philosophy on fighting battles (“it’s impossible to kill ‘em all, so I usually run away.”), the old man in the mill whose advice is find “hungry samurai” (or better yet, “Why worry about your beard when you’re about to lose your head?!”), the grandma who avenges the death of her family as the town stands by and watches, Kikuchiyo’s ringing the alarm bell and scolding the town for its cowardice, and the epic final raid by the bandits on the village. In the end, Seven Samurai is the high water mark for epic action films and is one movie that I can watch repeatedly without ever getting tired of it. It is, to make a long story short, my favorite movie.

Another Blog About Star Wars

Choosing a single movie that stands up above every other movie that I have ever seen as a one,true favorite is an absurd task. There are far too many movies that I can watch repeatedly and feel an uplifting joy every single time. Even if the movie is a complete downer (such as Darren Aronofsky’s nightmarisly brutal Requiem For A Dream). Just the excitement of someone controlling their craft to create something new can be enough to bring a smile to my face. Having said that, however, there are most definitely movies that have brought me a whole lot more joy than others.

If I have to choose a favorite single movie to place above all others, then I think it’s only fair that we take a look at the movies that have kept me (relatively) sane, happy, overjoyed to be alive just to see them. For starters:

     EMPIRE STRIKES BACK (1980)

     Let’s just get it out of the bag that I’m a big nerd. Not the nerdiest nerd in Nerdtown, but a fairly substantial nerd. So of course, a Star Wars movie (*insert nerd voice* “From the ORIGINAL trilogy”) makes its way onto the list of my top movies. Having just watched this the other night, I was reminded of the way that these movies affected me growing up. I was constantly aware of the size of the universe that these characters inhabited. Early on in the movie, there is reference to Han Solo running into a bounty hunter on another planet. This was mind-boggling to me because they didn’t show it. I had to imagine which bounty hunter, how it happened, and where is that planet that this happened. The first Star Wars had a similar moment when Obi-Wan gives Luke the back story of Anakin Skywalker, describing what a great pilot he was during the Clone Wars. A whole history that extended to infinity in my mind. A whole potential for adventure. Countless hours were spent with those action figures acting out all the “What if”s that could be.

     This one has always been my favorite of the original trilogy. It’s not that I dislike any of the original trilogy (I was young enough to like the Ewoks just fine),it just always seemed the most assured while still having something to prove. It’s the ultimate middle kid syndrome.  Episode IV was the trailblazer,but it wasn’t perfect. It had to learn the hard way how to exist and had to essentially create the language it needed to communicate. Episode V  used that language to bring a crescendo to the space opera. It learned how to do what it needed to by watching its older sibling and improved on it. Episode VI was just immature. It strutted to the finish line too easily, riding the technological advancements of the Star Wars movies that came before and only adding the wink and nods of an in-joke. What I mean is Return of the Jedi was too self-referential to the trilogy, too knowing of itself as the third part of a trilogy. An example of this is on Endor when Han and Chewbacca sneak up on two unsuspecting Scout Troopers. He is warned to do it quietly and answers back with “Hey, it’s me” with a wide, dopey grin. Luke and Leia give each other a knowing look and the audience is in on the joke as well. I’m wandering off track here. Where was I?

     Oh yeah, Empire.Sure, this one had all the great bombshells (OMG, Darth is Luke’s fucking FATHER?!), but it also had the best interaction between characters and dialogue of the original trilogy. Still….every time I watch this movie, I tear up a little thinking about all those toys I had and wishing that I still had (at the very least) the big ass AT-AT. *sigh*

     I will definitely talk more about Star Wars (especially when I get around to “30 Days of Movies” Day 2. Whenever that will be. I have a feeling this 30 day thing will take me all year.

Big Dumb Facebook 30 Day Movie Thingy.

So, there is once again another one of those 30 day things on Facebook where you list your favorite movies or music. I did the music one and my biggest complaint was that I was unable to post multiple songs. There was also the issue that in order to really go into the songs and give a good history of what those particular songs mean to me, it would take more than 140 characters. Sure, I could have just posted it as a comment, but that’s like moving the omelette to the side plate and bringing the muffin up front (shhhh, I’m hungry).

So this time around: Sorry Facebook, but we’re posting it here. Now I can rant on and on and on and on and on and on and on…..

…but not now. I’m pretty tired and hungry. Let’s see what the food fairy put in my fridge while I was at work……oh look, bread and tea. Yummy.