Life Is NOT A Malfunction: Short Circuit (1986)

I am wholly aware that there are some incredibly absurd movies that made their self aware during the 1980's, indeed, I have even gone so far as to review many of them, almost always with loving admiration or an unhealthy attachment, especially if said films involve things like cocaine smuggling ninjas or satellite based aliens consuming orgy minded suburban parents.  These movies were weird and did not necessarily acquire anything beyond the obvious cult status associated, however, Short Circuit is a film that has managed to retains most of its respect and was decidedly successful upon its initial release could out do every other film in its notes of the absurd.  Indeed, Short Circuit is perhaps the most bizarre film to come from the 80's not in that it exists alone, but that it was so successful.  Between some wonderful smirking by eternal heartthrob The Gutt, one of the more curious performances of Ally Sheedy's career one can pick apart its obvious attractions.  Everything else is completely an enigma though, notably the bizarrely Orientalist spin on the major foreign character within the film, not to mention a decidedly confusing and ethically problematic take on robotics, sentience and human bonding.  I assume this film is intended to be comedic, however, I could not begin to unpack the ramifications and implications of approaching such movie with an awareness that it is chuckling at such deeply social woes.  In contrast to Ally Sheedy's involvement in say WarGames, one almost thinks that Short Circuit is in bad taste, and I would certainly make this claim were it made in any other year than 1986.  It is in this unabashed push towards complete absurdity that one is able to truly appreciate Short Circuit, because what one paper should come off as complete and irreverent politically incorrect satire manages to take on a knowing level of self-awareness, wherein each glance of humor on the part of Steve Guttenberg and moment pun-infested dialogue manages to say everything about an era where excess and decadence were simply a fact and any point of lack or oppression was ignored or made to be a point of frustration.  In the very choice to ignore any palpable reality Short Circuit reconsiders the ability and execution of satire.  It is bad, it is wildly problematic, but it is also delightful.

Short Circuit focuses on the American governments most recent attempts at launching a series of former Cold War robots, known collectively as the S.A.I.N.T. program, as service industry robots.  This appears to be an ideal situation as the precision and focus affords the robots to do both very general tasks as well as specific, detailed endeavors.  Yet, when an intense lighting storm hits the factories, one robot is electrocuted a la Frankenstein and breaks free from the space.  In doing so, the war division of the government goes wild fearing that the number five division of the robot will destroy everything in its path, as the lightning resulted in an overriding of its circuits and reverting to its former Cold War programing.  To make matters worse the robot is equipped with a laser capable of destroying any item nearly instantaneously.  The robot becomes a point of fascination for its creator Dr. Newton Crosby (Steve Guttenberg) who sees this "glitch" as a movement towards a higher degree of sentience, particularly with Number 5 rewires his own switchboard to assure his livelihood.  Eventually, Number 5 travels far enough to meet with food truck entrepreneur and lively twenty something Stephanie Speck (Ally Sheedy) who immediately assumes the robot to be a form of extraterrestrial life, becoming visibly upset when it proves to be the far less exciting government weapon of mass destruction.  Yet, realizing that Number 5 truly desires to become "alive" Stephanie takes it upon herself to teach and train Number 5 while also helping to avoid his own disassembly, or, in human terms, death.  All the while, Dr. Crosby and his wise-cracking Indian assistant Ben (Fisher Stevens) attempt to track down Number 5 with the most advance positioning technology possible.  Eventually, they are able to track down the robot and discover him deep in training with Stephanie, as well as attached in a manner that is noticeably more than platonic.  However, Crosby and Ben realize that Number 5 is indeed advanced and capable of self-control, so much so that when the government eventually attacks Number 5 it proves to be a decoy created by the very robot who has become hyper-sentient.  The film closes with Number 5 assigning itself with the name Johnny 5 and becoming the pal of Crosby, Ben and Stephanie, assumedly planning on undertaking a series of new journeys, a fact shown in the multiple sequels that followed.

I am currently pinpointing my research interests within the field of film studies and, as I have noted earlier, this includes South Korean cinema.  However, realizing that just having a regional focus does not entirely suffice for the deeper I delve into school, I have decided to also focus on the ways in which gendering and body politics emerge within films about beings that are non theoretically human, including things like cyborgs, robots and dolls which become sentient.  As such, much to my surprise and elation, Short Circuit very much fits within this new vein of research, especially in regards to the gendering of Johnny 5, who moves from being a purely servile non-human other to that of a war based threat to eventually being a thing of fraternal and pseudo-sexual interest to at least two characters in the film.  In theory, Johnny 5 should not be a figure with a specific gender, but it is rather clear from the onset that viewers are supposed to define him as masculine, whether it be a result of his phallic like laser or his male-inclined vocal pattern, his gender is fixated within the masculine, making its creation by Dr. Crosby and the American government all the more ethically curious.  Indeed, his very war like identity suggests an entrenched notion of war as sexual aggression wherein each element of warfare finds its ties to the male phallic privilege, perhaps most famously explored in Kubrick's uproariously funny Dr. Strangelove.  Here it is becomes more heady intellectually, because if Johnny 5 is indeed a phallic extension of the government, he too is one that is anthropomorphized, suggesting a desire that war not only be a sexual act, but one that in the process "gives birth" to new entities that are vaguely human but still less than in the important factors.  The levels of control and privilege that emerge in such a scenario are complex and fascinating and could certainly extend on to consider other films within this genre.  The fact that Stephanie has a pseudo-romantic encounter with Johnny 5 takes on a reverse-Pygmallion element, although she is not the creator so again it is a bit more confusing.  There are also a ton of ways in which to consider how gender is performed and how a viewer is to understand that Johnny is supposed to be masculine, all tying to an assumption that a non-human body could still exist within a gendered dichotomy.  It is also no small coincidence that Wall-E is clearly based on Johnny 5.

Key Scene:  Johnny 5's quest for knowledge through reading the encyclopedia from front to end is both hilarious and deeply curious from an ethical standpoint and is dealt with in a near perfect way.

This is a solid rental through and through, although it is cheap enough on DVD that buying it might prove equally inexpensive.

I See Dead People: The Sixth Sense (1999)

The name M. Night Shyamalan has become quite the running joke in contemporary Hollywood, indeed a name that once carried weight in the thriller community has been relegated to mocking and outright avoidance, in so much as his most recent film Another Earth went quite out of its way to assure avoid noting that it was directed by Shyamanlan, wherein during his height as a filmmaker he could earn viewers purely by attaching his name to a project, even as just a producer.  This may seem almost impossible now given the string of terrible movies from the director, but when one revisits Unbreakable, or even Signs they can see an auteur at work who has been allowed free reigns in making directorial choices, even if some of them were less evocative than others.  However, there was a decided phenomenon surrounding his 1999 work The Sixth Sense, one that became so evasive in popular culture that everybody was aware of the spoiler well before encountering the film.  Admittedly I had never encountered the film in its entirety until yesterday when I finally, with a degree of hesitation, popped it into my Bluray player.  Initially, a little hesitant to embrace the cinematic elements of the film, I realized that there was something wonderful, in a completely eerie sense, at work.  This realization, would, however, not have come were I not completely aware of the reveal at the end of the film, which is made somewhat nauseatingly clear throughout the film.  It is not the on-the-nose ways in which I find the film particularly well-executed, but more so in regards to the more subtle elements.  For example, there are some notable choices with the cinematography and mise-en-scene that pay off in major ways by the end of the film, and much to my surprise Bruce Willis delivers a rather nuanced performance that calls attention to the major issue his character is facing throughout the film.  Of course, an argument could be made that these moments are far from the credit of Shyamalan and this might well prove true, but it is precisely this combination of factors that make for a somewhat timeless thriller, which might be ripe for rediscovery in about twenty years, who knows maybe Shyamalan will have found his footing again, or he will have made so many missteps as to become completely irrelevant.

The Sixth Sense begins with Dr. Malcolm Crowe (Bruce Willis) indifferently celebrating the receiving of an award for his work in child psychology alongside his wife Anna (Olivia Williams).  When they return to their room after talking, they are stunned to find one of Malcolm's former patients half-clothed in their bathroom, blaming Malcolm for his societal issues.  Frustrated the young man shoots Malcolm before killing himself.  The narrative then jumps forward a year to show Malcolm undertaking a new case with a young boy named Cole (Haley Joel Osment), who suffers from incredibly intense social anxiety and depression issues following the divorce of his parents.  Malcolm, hoping to use this a point of redemption after what he deems a failure with his former suicidal patient dumps everything into his helping Cole, much to the frustration of Anna, with whom Malcolm is continually growing distant.  Yet, when Malcolm makes a breakthrough with Cole, who has been previously incapable of help from other psychiatrists he feels obligated to go above and beyond his duty as a psychiatrist, particularly since it is revealed that Cole believes that he can see dead people wandering about the world, in his mind unable to realize that they are dead and thus going through routines to fix wrongs.  Malcolm is decidedly suspicious of this claim, but, nonetheless, follows Cole through his visions, particularly brutal ones involving images of hanging bodies and violent gun accidents.  When, Cole begins describing in great detail individuals' most repressed secrets, Malcolm begins to take his claims seriously, even agreeing to drive Cole to a some what far off funeral to help a young girl correct her wrongful death, one she managed to videotape.  This endeavor causes suspicion in Anna who has become involved with her shop hand, as well as Cole's mother Lynn (Toni Colette) who has become frustrated by ungrounded claims that she is partaking in child abuse, as well as fear for Cole and his, in her eyes, unhealthy attachment to his dead grandmother.  When Cole finally explains in great detail what he sees, a series of events paired together make Malcolm realize that not only is his attachment to Cole a unique one, but his growing distance from his wife, might be predicated not upon this attachment to his patient, but a very tangible removal from the physical world.

I want to note that there are some problems of dated choices in the film, but one could make that claim for most every "great" movie from 1999, perhaps the most important year in film since 1976.  A few moments of slow motion filmmaking and sickeningly heteronormative narrative aside, The Sixth Sense manages to create an ambiance of otherworldliness without ever making it frustratingly clear.  Again, I came at this film already aware of the reveal, so my ability to pick up some of these directorial choices was indeed predicated upon this and I could not speak for a completely blind viewing of this film, although I would be quite intrigued to see a legitimate cinephile go into this film blind as to its narrative and reveal, although that is probably impossible.  However, I digress, I want to hype the cinematography of this film above anything else, particularly the way in which Tak Fujimoto makes the "non-human" entities of the film pop out against the mildly gritty posh urban backdrop that is downtown Philadelphia.  The film lights Willis in such a way that his eyes become piercing black orbs, indeed quite spectral in their essence and the use of the now iconic Willis scowl draws even more attention to this idea.  Never one to layer on the performance, what Willis brings to Malcolm's character through a barebones performance is an individual who has lost the ability to express himself physically to another person, which is indeed true of a narrative where he is dead and incapable of communicating in any way beyond changing the temperature of the room or through influences of memories.  Also, the manner with which the film is edited allows for a very, very subtle breaking of the linear narrative, at times even the most minimal of jump zooms noting the difference between the space of the human figures and those of the ghosts, undoubtedly, a purposeful choice on the part of Shyamalan who has never failed at creating suspense.  Of course, this film is also quite scary, although it does lull viewers into its intensity, much like Signs much of the film is spent anticipating the presence of a scare and while there are really only one or two examples of this in The Sixth Sense when they do occur they prove to be almost too intense to handle, an execution of horror that has only really occurred with perfection in The Exorcist

Key Scene:  The ghost reveal in Cole's tent will scare you, if it does not then you have a nervous system made of iron.

I cannot defend this film enough and considering that it is pennied out on DVD, grabbing a copy is a given.  If not from Amazon it is readily available at pretty much any place that sells media in its various forms.

Sweep The Leg: The Karate Kid (1984)

Sweep the mother fucking leg!  I could have pulled a ton of quotes from this film and incorporated them into the title, because I had not really realized how much of the iconic catch phrases of the 80's were lifted from this film, perhaps one of the most eighties of all films.  Between its language, style and general penchant for the excessive, The Karate Kid is everything I have come to expect from a classic genre film, particularly one that incorporates a distinct coming of age narrative.  It is also yet another reminder that when it comes to films involving kung fu and/or ninjas that are also set in the eighties, it is easiest to distinguish the good guys from those who are bad, in that the villains always possess motorcycles, while seeming to lack any piece of clothing that includes sleeves.  Also, The Karate Kid is the rare movie that manages to exude such a self-awareness about its eventual datedness and place as immediate nostalgia that some of the more pseudo-racist and narratively problematic through lines are present, but capable of being overlooked.  In fact, I would be willing to place The Karate Kid as one of the moments of before/after in 80's cinema, a time where simplicity, earnestness and stylistic over-exuberance trump cultural critique and the lavish as a means of social critique.  Indeed, compare this and a work like Top Gun with later works from the same decade like Robocop or Pretty in Pink and you will realize a sharp contrast in seriousness of subject matter, even in regards to genre works or coming of age tales.  While I know that a lot of this can be chalked up to simple escapist cinema and a changing landscape in the rise of independent cinema, but I would also extend the consideration that much of The Karate Kid narrative feeds into the hyper-idealisim of a Reagan era America where even the most impoverished of persons can pull themselves up by their boot straps and contest the greatest of foes, despite being cheated and denied equal class access.  Indeed, The Karate Kid depicts a world where its main character gets fortunate break after fortunate break, thus allowing him to move outside of his class othering at such an instantaneous rate that it would appears as though Reagan's misguided assumption about trickling down economic benefits did indeed reach one of the lowest rungs.  This idea failed in reality, but certainly seemed quite plausible in the narrative of The Karate Kid.

The Karate Kid begins with Daniel Larusso (Ralph Macchio) and his mother Lucille (Randee Heller) making the long trek from New Jersey to California, Lucille believing that by taking herself and her son to a completely new space that they will both be able to prosper in the wake of what the film suggests to be an unfortunate past with her spouse.  Daniel is incredibly reluctant to embrace the new space, particularly since California is decidedly different from his close-knit New Jersey block, although, he lucks out in getting invited to a beach party on his first day in the town.  It is during this party that he meets Ali Mills (Elisabeth Shue) a wealthy girl who seems to take a liking to Daniel for his earnest, down-to-earth attitude.  Yet, it is also during this night that he meets a group of biker kids whose ties to the infamous Cobra Kai dojo have made them into maniacal karate experts whose ruthless attitudes make fighting them a less than stellar affair.  The Cobra Kai's leader is Johnny Lawrence (William Zabka) whose previous relationship with Ali, causes him to immediately dislike Daniel and attack him in a push to establish his authority.  After being beaten up, Daniel returns home, and in an attempt to hide his bruises from Lucille instead gives away his secret, causing her to express concern, although she cannot exact the effort she would like considering that she is busy working to make their lives in California sustainable.  At this point, Daniel meets the apartment complex's maintenance manager Mr. Miyagi (Pat Morita) who admits to knowing karate, although he is hesitant to teach it to Daniel who he thinks only want to use it to pick fights, however, Miyagi does take Daniel under his wing, seeing that he is lacking a consistent parental figure.  During the night of a dance at his school, Daniel is attacked by a group of students from the Cobra Kai school, at which point Miyagi defends the young man and in the process realizes the seriousness of his situation and after confronting the dojo leader, suggest that Daniel and Johnny meet in the the regional martial arts tournament.  At this point Daniel's training is more intense and his relationship with Ali evolves, after a minor setback.  On the day of the tournament, Daniel's training pays off, although he learns in the process that it often takes overcoming cheating, physical and mental adversity and occasionally changing a course of action to complete a task successfully.

I should preface this paragraph by saying that I fully understand that The Karate Kid is made for a particular audience of youth and that it serves primarily an escapist function.  Yet I also want to note that intended audience/level of cultural popularity has never stopped me from over analyzing a film before, nor will it now.  Indeed, after I finish this post I intend to wildly throw some theory to a rather popular contemporary film trilogy in hopes of publication.  However, I digress.  I want, to posit that The Karate Kid is very much a film that suggest that class is something that can be transcended by the graciousness of those with privilege passing their wealth downward to those without.  Indeed, Daniel and his mom are clearly to be of a working class status in the opening moments of the film, when they arrive to California and are located in a run down apartment complex that boasts a pool barely containing any water, which of what is available is grossly stagnant.  Furthermore, Lucille must play into the gimmick of moving up through lower level management by "taking classes" as a means to succeed economically, when much of this requires her to sacrifice the possibility of making money, because she must spend what ever extra earning she makes to pursue these endeavors.  The signifier for Daniel's poverty then becomes his bike, which is mocked and destroyed by Johnny and his friends whose privilege drives them to destroy his poverty merely out of humor and out of a jealously that he could attain one of their points of status in Ali.  The really bizarre thing about the film, and the way in which it affirms a Reagan idea of trickle down economics is that when Daniel is in the presence of Ali he is suddenly in possession of money, most notably in the lunch scene where he retrieves enough money to pay for both of their meals, despite being clearly lacking in earlier moments.  Furthermore, Mr. Miyagi, while primarily a sensei to Daniel, seems to also be a point where money/property passes towards Daniel, in his case fixing his bike signifier to be less poor looking and eventually replacing it with a classic car.  These gifts are an implausible thing to most people of a lower class space, but this is one of the faults of trickle down economics, is that such occurrences are suggested to be quite frequent. It is worth acknowledging Miyagi's identity as other, but that is not the reading I am going for so it shall not be elaborated upon.  Daniel's class thus becomes less and less evident to the point that once he arrives at the tournament he is destined to win, attaining a golden trophy, perhaps a signifier of wealth, or a false idol intended to provide him a delusion of access to that which his lower class status will probably never officially attain.

Key Scene:  SWEEP THE LEG!

This is a fine film considering its dated 80's nature.  However, when approaching it be aware that its dated features also come with some problematic depictions of Mr. Miyagi as an Oriental body.  Other than that feel free to buy this, although renting is the route I would go.

The Idea Of Learning Is To Be Bigger, Not Smaller: Born Yesterday (1950)

One of the many wonderful things about being involved with the Funny Lady Blogathon held at Movies, Silently, is that I was able to read passionate and loving breakdowns of many other bloggers favorite classic comedic performances, many of which I had already encountered and a ton more that sounded absolutely fascinating.  One such performance was that of Judy Holliday in Born Yesterday.  Having been made aware of this film by its inclusion in a handful of "must see movie" texts, I was destined to eventually come across it in a viewing, yet when Holliday was mentioned by Caftan Woman, I knew that prolonging this film was out of the question and am I glad I finally caught up with this work.  Not only is it a refreshing work from George Cukor, but Holliday is nothing short of perfect in a role as the longtime girlfriend of a mob boss, a role which would be reworked and rehashed by multiple directors in the following decades with little to no success and would often cause the actress performing the roles to come off as grating or completely idiotic.  This is not the case in Holliday's delivery of the character, her wandering eyes and cleverly delivered pauses between lines make for one of the best executions of a character archetype ever witnessed on screen.  It would be one thing if the film was entirely carried by Holliday, but that is not the case Cukor makes a Billy Wilder level comedy with the frenetic pacing of a Hawks comedy, often allowing for moments of introspection only when he feels it necessary to allow for the sweeping cinematography of the film's Washington D.C. setting to take over.  Furthermore, Born Yesterday manages to be a rather earnest look at the idea of learning and breaking out of pre-prescribed expectation, a rather powerful narrative when one considers that the film focuses on the empowerment education provides for one woman, who learns to appreciate not only her place in relation to the prestigious history of democracy in America, but in regards to her own gendered relationships with those near and dear to her daily engagements.


Born Yesterday begins with the arrival of noted "tycoon" with mob ties Harry Brock (Broderick Crawford) arriving to Washington D.C., for some unspecified business with big wig senators.  Along with Brock come a variety of lackeys, as well as his mistress Emma "Billie" Dawn (Judy Holliday).  With the help of his somewhat devious lawyer Jim (Howard St. John), Brock hopes to strong arm a few people into making favorable decisions concerning land he owns, while also considering the necessity of marrying Billie who possesses much of his stock through a legal loophole to assure his financial advancement.  Realizing the general pomp and circumstance that comes with the world of Washington politics, Brock becomes hypocritical of Billie's manners and ignorance, thus leading to his hiring of a local journalist named Paul (William Holden) to tutor her in the way of the world.  Of course, Brock assumes that this means some simple rules in etiquette, whereas Paul takes it upon himself to educate Billie in the ways of the world.  Billie takes to her education with much fervor and begins picking up the ideas of democratic values and correct sentence structure, which causes Paul much elation and a growing fondness for Billie, who seems keen to recuperate the feelings.  It is during this learning the Brock finally grows suspicious of Billie's education, seeing her movement towards enlightenment as her stepping above her place, particularly when she begins to correct his grammar and ridicule him for not being aware of basic American history.  Nonetheless, at the demands of Jim, Brock begins to sign away his belongings to Billie in hopes that it will allow them to take further advantage of government loopholes and make huge financial gains.  Billie, however, now fully aware of the ethical division between just and unjust actions and along with some loving prodding on the part of Paul begins to outright refuse Brock and Jim's demands, deciding that she is her own person capable of making singular decisions that will not be predicated upon Brock and his tough guy demeanor.  Wanting nothing more than to escape her lackluster lifestyle, Billie agrees that she will slowly return Brock's holdings to him on the agreement that he never bothers her again, a bargain to which Brock begrudgingly agrees.  Billie now free from the burden of embraced ignorance gets married to Paul and the two are assumedly headed to carry out their life of love and an unending quest for knowledge.

It is precisely the rejection of celebrated ignorance that makes Born Yesterday not only a great film, but one with a particular pertinence in the past few years of American politics.  Indeed, it is not small accident that this film was set in Washington D.C. a place that seemingly thrives upon it being alright to "not know a whole lot."  It should come as both a shock, as well as no surprise, that America has only elected one person with a PhD in all its history, being of course Woodrow Wilson.  It seems as the American voter fears somebody far too educated and well-versed instead preferring people with more reliability, as though to be highly educated is both alienating and undesirable.  This is not to say we have not had intelligent men and women hold public office, it is just made clear in media dialogue that it is less desirable and a thing to be questioned.  To tie this directly to Born Yesterday and Billie's quest for self-knowledge and enlightenment, it is necessary to stand her up against a woman who exuded the idea that ignorance is idea...Sarah Palin.  On the road, Palin constantly reminded people that she did not have time to read current events or keep abreast to issues since she was a mother who worked, amongst other excuses.  In what Palin seemed to think was an empowering statement of her maternal status, ultimately, betrayed her gender by suggesting that the woman is incapable of pursuing learning particularly when she has domestic priorities.  To draw attention to this issue is important no doubt, but to make it excusable and, subsequently, acceptable is highly problematic.  I do not mean to get so political here, but it is worth considering this in contrast to a character like Billie who is expected to occupy her own unique domestic space, one that deters her from education and dismisses her as a stereotype to be consumed by Brock when necessary.  Where Palin would be afforded opportunities to educated herself, she simply avoided it, in Born Yesterday, Billie is at times ridiculed and denied access to her education, particularly when Brock destroys her books.  Yet, it is Billie, a fictional character, who better represents what it means to be an empowered woman, that is both aware of her place in a problematically masculine world, but also willing to cement herself as a woman with her own power in knowledge, a thing that allows her to stand against the most brutish of men.

Key Scene:  The game of gin rummy between Billie and Brock is a moment of perfectly executed cinema that is also incredibly funny.  Holliday's mannerism and delivery are spot on during this entire sequence.

The DVD for this film is rather cheap and while I would hope for an imminent bluray release it does not appear to be in the near future, therefore renting might be the best course of action as it stands.

I Keep My Undies In The Ice Box!: The Seven Year Itch (1955)

First off, I want to thank Movies, Silently for the opportunity to be involved in The Funny Lady blog-a-thon, and be given the excellent task of tackling Marilyn Monroe no less!  I have decided to revisit The Seven Year Itch, a film I have no seen in years, firstly, because I find it to be one of the funniest (if not the funniest) films ever made.  Second, however, I also believe it speaks volumes to the brilliant performer that Marilyn Monroe was, while also allowing her to play with notions of her own place as a sexual icon, as well as the larger idea of male fantasy and expectations of the "ideal conquest."  I picked this movie specifically because it is so funny, and while much of that can be credited to the involvement of Billy Wilder and the droopy-eyed performance of Tom Ewell, it, ultimately, comes down to the masterful delivery of Monroe as a fantastical version of some robotic version of an ideal male woman, who is a risqué model with demure sensibilities and a young, overly idealistic woman who just also happens to have a mature understanding of the complexities of marriage.  While it is never expressly stated, one can assume that the film is a large scale fantasy on the part of the main character and that his fantasy is merely a projection, in which case, the performance Monroe puts on takes another layer of absurdity, nonetheless, being portrayed with a stone-eyed certainty as she delivers lines about retrieving snack foods and undergarments from iceboxes.  Simply put, what Monroe does in The Seven Year Itch is reject everything that the cult of celebrity had created for her, through blowing it all out of proportion, because while the cultural image of Monroe is easily the famous publicity still of her in a white dress catching a draft from a passing subway car, that was merely an instant in this film, it is not reflective of her in the slightest.  One must remember that Monroe also took on serious roles in films like All About Eve, Clash By Night and another Technicolor delight River of No Return.  As such, she is performing a comedic deconstruction of herself within the framework of The Seven Year Itch, one that is half-fantasy/ half-absurdity and all perfection.  I would argue that actors, regardless of gender, struggle to commit to a character with such a degree of certainty as Monroe displays in this racy film that stands as one of the big breaks from the restrictions of The Hayes Code.

The Seven Year itch focuses on the experiences of the shy and sheepish Richard Sherman (Tom Ewell) a well-to-do publishing agent who, like many men living in Manhattan in the fifties, finds himself seeing his wife Helen (Evelyn Keyes) and son Ricky (Butch Bernard) off as they leave town, while he stays in town and continues accruing wealth for the family.  Richard, a schmuck of sorts adheres to every detail his wife lays out for him, including an avoidance of smoking and drinking and a strict diet, all doctor's orders of course.  Richard, who constantly speaks about his love for his wife, nonetheless, fantasizes about all his possible moments of infidelity, while also creating a projection of Helen that dismisses his claims.  Richard finds himself even incapable of thinking about cheating, without the condemnation of his wife.  Seemingly fine simply existing in a liminal space between freedom from his family and a constant reminder of their presence, through slips on roller skates and hidden keys to his cigarette chest, things change for Richard drastically when he is met with a new occupant in his complex, a curvaceous young blonde woman who becomes simply known as The Girl (Marilyn Monroe).  The innocent girl initially asks Richard for help getting into the house which he gladly agrees to do, although it is clear that he is fraught with anxiety over how to help this woman whose stunning beauty is alarming, a matter that is made all the worse when she accidentally knocks a tomato plant onto his balcony later that evening, only missing Richard by seconds.  This accident leads to Richard inviting The Girl down for a drink, to which his fantasies begin running wild from causing the girl to swoon over performances of Rachmaninoff to perfect cocktail recopies.  Yet even as Richard unfolds elaborate plans his reality impedes constantly, through things like the landlord attempting to change the carpeting and a check-up call from Helen.  Despite these constant distractions timing still proves in his favor as The Girl enters and the two hit it off, despite his nervousness, awkwardness and misdirection, leading to a failed performing of not the Russian composer, but instead the simple Chopsticks.  The next day, Richard finds himself despairing over his foolish advances, only to be furthered condemned by a psychoanalytically inclined author that says his desires are a result of pent up frustrations and the like.  Invariably, Richard and The Girl continue seeing one another, although their engagements, aside from innocent kisses are left undisplayed, but an encounter with one of Helen's dear friends leads Richard to realizing where his true concerns should lie and he flees form Manhattan, ultimately, leaving both his fantasies and realities behind him to join his family on vacation.

If one is to assume that much of this film exists in the space of Richard's fantasies, the dream sequences within the already established dream would make the film a sort of meta-fantasy, wherein, Richard has one projection of his own life that is not suited to his liking and simply adds another layer to make it more fantastical or indicative of his personal desires.  This is scene when he is already troubled by the idea that he does not represent the ideal masculine of somebody like Tom MacKenzie (Sonny Tufts) who he suspects his wife to be having an affair with, therefore, he creates another layer to his fantasy that involves The Girl saying that she is only interested in men who, like Richard, are shy and constantly perspiring.  If there is a certain degree of layering to his idealization and desire on Richard's part I would contest that there is also the same amount of twisting and multiplicity within Monroe's performance.  As noted earlier she is playing a heavily caricatured version of the sultry, yet shallow, young model that would encompass male desire, tragically, something she would become known and stereotyped for both on and off the screen.  Yet, Monroe bring a certain vapidness to the role, not because she is a bad actress, that is far from the case (refer to the films mentioned earlier), but because she knows that such a "desired" version of femininity requires that the woman strip away all notions of emotion or a soul and become, like the picture of her in which Richard constantly sneaks a glance, a object of desire without thought or reason.  Incidentally, it is no coincidence that the still of the dress being blown by the subway draft is the most famous scene of the film, despite being only a publicity still, it reflects this same non-animated form of objectification.  The beauty of Monroe while important to the film, particularly when Wilder's script breaks the fourth wall and has Richard suggest that the woman hiding in his house is none other than the real life version of Marilyn Monroe, is secondary to what she is stating about the nature of a desired body both in fantasy and reality.  To Wilder and to Monroe, it is one thing for her character's performance to be one of Marilyn Monroe, but it is secondly so because she is playing into a heavily muted version of herself, one that must only be sexualized because it is realistic to be anything else.  To Monroe this is to be laughed at, and while it may not have been realized at the time, it is certainly the case now, and easily stands as Monroe's funniest performance, and were it not for the unfortunate tragedies that would follow in years to come, I would imagine that this performance would stand up to be one of the single greatest strokes of comedy genius to ever grace the screen.

Key Scene:  All that I have mentioned culminates perfectly in the Rachmaninoff scene, although there are other wonderful moments throughout the film that combine together to make Richard's fantasy world one of the most foolishly funny visions in all of cinema.

This film, along with a ton of other Monroe classics is available in a bluray box set.  The transfer is stunning and the extras are wonderful, particularly the Hayes Code meter that you can have play throughout the film, showing the degrees of "obscenity" that the picture would have received.

No Quarter. No Mercy For The Loser: Rio Bravo (1959)

When it comes to the classic westerns, ones that almost all clock in at well over two hours in run time it is not just idea, but a necessity that they prove to be watchable, because there is absolutely nothing worse than a movie that drags on in the context of already being incredibly lengthy.  When it works it is something wonderful, like is the case with The Great Escape or with Seven Samurai.  Fortunately, as a filmmaker Howard Hawks lives in a world where dialogue is always engaging and the plot perplexing and this is certainly the case with his classic star-driven western Rio Bravo, which is both incredibly well-made and highly entertaining.  Within the matter of just under two and a half hours, viewers are teated to a variety of human identity issues being fleshed out and dealt with in great turn, while also avoiding the worrisome threat of being too preachy or misdirected.  Of course, Rio Bravo is more than just a traditional western that happens to just be really cool to watch, it manages to comfortably move about the genre specifics, without really leaving the space of its narrative, in fact, this movie has arguably been the most closed in within terms of character movement, only depicting the individuals within the relation to the town, and more so, within concern to the town jail and hotel.  Such a setup would be restrictive to most directors and performers, but within the world of a Howard Hawks film the more congested and restrictive the space the more he seems willing to absolutely blow the lid off of possibilities, whether it be a great turn at the comedic for John Wayne, or the wonderfully sentimental song number midway through the film.  Far before I ever envisioned this blog as a regular endeavor, let alone planned to devote an entire month to the genre of westerns, many of the individuals whose taste in film I highly admired, referred to the western as being their favorite genre, and while I am not quite committed to that kind of admiration, watching Rio Bravo has certainly led to me heavily reconsidering how much I have thought my top ten films to be solidified.  I would have to revisit my list of favorite all-time films, but considering how absolutely excellent Rio Bravo proved to be i would stand to call it my favorite western at the moment, although it is early in the month, with a ton of other classics on the docket so that is liable to change.

Rio Bravo begins with the stumbling and defeated The Dude (Dean Martin) walking into a bar sheepishly attempting to get a drink from anyone who will offer.  When the wily and troublesome Joe Burdette (Claude Akins) thinks it hilarious to throw a coin into the spitoon and watch The Dude fish it out, in steps John T. Chance (John Wayne) the local sheriff to reprimand Joe for his childish and degrading behavior, which invariably leads to a fight, in which The Dude in a moment of clarity helps Chance take back control, eventually leading to the arrest of Joe.  However, the run in with Joe is only one of Chance's problems and he, in fact, is having little success keeping a lid on the ruffians and wild folks who exist in and around his town.  Hoping to get The Dude back on the right track he hires him back on as an assistant sheriff, along with Stumpy (Walter Brennan) in a hopes that their unlikely combination will help to avoid trouble in the town.  Yet, when an old friend Pat Wheeler (Ward Bond) comes into town, along with a new hired hand Colorado Ryan (Ricky Nelson) only to see the dire state of Chance's town, he offers his services.  Chance refuses, however, noting that it is almost certain death and his workers will be too preoccupied with thoughts of their families to serve in any fruitful capacity. Instead, after some prodding and jousting on both ends Chance ends up attaining the aid of Colorado to standup against Joe's brother Nathan (John Russell) and his crew of lackeys.  Furthermore, Chance begins a relationship with Feathers (Angie Dickinson), as well as using Carlos (Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez) and his hotel as a point of operations.  While the singular focus is on moving trouble from the town, Chance is also quite aware of the necessity involved in making sure that The Dude stays sober, a decidedly hard task when The Dude admits that any stint without hard liquor results in his sadness about his past, however, with some stern words from Chance and a moment of success on The Dude's part he comes around and realizes his possibilities as a crime fighter.  In the end Chance, The Dude, Colorado and eventually Stumpy use their small team to take on Nathan's entire posse, an endeavor made ever slightly easier with the aid of high powered explosives.  In the end Chance and Feathers openly admit their feelings, while Stumpy and The Dude patrol the streets of the much calmer and more civilized town.

Whiskey and heavy drinking are of course one of the major tropes, or at the very least themes within most westerns, and while the consumption of alcohol in heavy amounts is often depicted within the genre, very little is done in the way of drawing attention to the issues of alcoholism or the heavy and continue abuse of liquor.  Of course, the drunkard does emerge in films of this nature, but never in such a way as to be a main character, or one whose actions are explained and grounded.  As such, Rio Bravo, while very much about Chance's own attempts at reigning in an out of control town, perhaps an extension of his psyche, or about Colorado's drive to assert his own young masculinity, ultimately, exists as a film about recovery.  This recovery can of course be taken at a very literal level as The Dude Learns to manage his days without even the slightest of drinking which leads to him having varied mood swings and an absurd diet.  He is written of throughout as an alcoholic, so much so, that only Chance seems to support his push towards being sober, suggesting that much as is the case with Alcoholics Anonymous style systems, that each individual needs a person to work them through the toughest of times and be a voice to engage with or a shoulder to lean on.  Chance, as his name suggests, is a final vestige through which The Dude finds his salvation.  Of course, he is not, by any means, the only character attempting to reinvent himself, but Hawks' directorial style seems to emphasize The Dude and his particular concern for turning over a new leaf.  In many scenes the camera often lingers on The Dude as he fidgets and moves about the space, an unusual technique for the time, let alone the genre, however, perhaps the most obvious moment in which the narrative suggests that The Dude is attempting to redefine or reestablish himself comes when he looks at his reflection in the mirror, seeing himself shaved and clean is followed by his being attacked.  In the past his confrontations with a former self would have led him to the bottle, yet when tied up he must learn to suffice without the crutch, eventually finding solace and comfort in music instead.  The Dude and his movement from an addiction are central to the film, which is particularly intriguing since the film moves and feels like a western, while also being a very focused human drama.

Key Scene: The singing scene of course, so much musical excellence is occurring in that space, it is only a slight let down, however, that John Wayne does not join in the fun.

Hey, Where The White Women At?: Blazing Saddles (1974)

I promise that this month of westerns will consist of some more traditional notions of what the genre consists of and not complete revisionists examples of a western, however, I have had a bluray of Blazing Saddles sitting on my shelf for so long and knowing that I would fully enjoy it I figured it was appropriate to incorporate within this blogathon, especially since it does indeed allow me to grasp a variety of examples as to what exists within the genre over its century of films, furthermore, I am always in the mood to watch a Mel Brooks film because I know it will result in me laughing with genuine excitement as well embracing the magic of what has to be one of the most post-modern filmmakers to ever work in comedy.  As readers may well know, Blazing Saddles has a reputation that precedes itself and manages to be quoted by many individuals without even realizing they are quoting the comedy masterpiece.  This recent visiting of the film had been the first time in years, and I can vaguely remember watching it when I was younger and far too lacking in knowledge of both film and forms of comedy to appreciate it in its grand execution.  Of course, given that Mel Brooks has a complete disregard for any sort of political correctness or social limitations relating to his comedy, Blazing Saddles could easily offend a ton of people if they are not willing to detach themselves from their contemporary viewpoints.  I, on the other hand, would argue that Brooks is always aware of the layers of his comedy and never delivers a joke that could be deemed offensive or in bad taste without entrenching it within a simultaneous critique of the very nature of what makes the specific joke funny.  Furthermore, given the recent backlash against Tarantino for his use of racial slurs and race within the context of a western, it would seem as though all those madly throwing diatribes against the wall hoping they would stick to the ever changing walls of the internet, managed to, in most cases, disregard this film completely, and, while I would never say that it is offensive, the same critiques fired at Django Unchained, would certainly apply to Blazing Saddles, all be it in a comedic context, and knowing Tarantino's sharklike ability to consume films it is impossible to think that Brooks work was not on his mind, particularly in their use of a particularly infamous racist organization in their respective films.

Blazing Saddles is set at the height of post-war American West, wherein African-Americans although free, possessed little if any rights and found themselves subject to exploitative work and a lack of social mobility.  One such worker Bart (Cleavon Little) is forced to use a railroad car to check an spot of railing that might be within quicksand, leading to his near death and the final moment of frustration that leads him to take a shovel against his employer.  This act of frustration leads to his being placed in jail, under the supervision of State Attorney General Hedley Lamarr (Harvey Korman), who spends most of his time attempting to correct his name being mispronounced, as well as reigning in the antics of the state governor and sex fanatic William J. Le Petomane (Mel Brooks).  However, when the town of Rock Ridge expresses concern over suffering and exploitation at the hands of local marauders, Lamarr and Petomane, who have vested interests in the railroad moving through that town, decide to use Bart as a way to throw the town into chaos, while also making a selfish stride in civil rights for political purposes.  Bart, confused at his new job offer, nonetheless, takes it happily and arrives at Rock Ridge, only to be greeted with distrust and racial slurs, yet, Bart is an absolutely brilliant person and learns to manipulate the idiots of the town and the various attackers to his advantage, even gaining the help of the pseudo-alcoholic wash-up The Waco Kid (Gene Wilder) who sees past Bart's race and works with him to make the city safe and worthy of occupants.  Lamarr, still desiring to make money off of the railroad, sends in a gang to destroy the town, although Bart and The Waco Kid use this knowledge to plan a counter-defense, which leads to a fight between the town and gang, ultimately, breaking the fourth wall of the film and becoming a battle of all film genres within the studio lot and cafeteria at Warner Brothers Studios.  When all is done and Bart and The Waco Kid have won they ride their horses off into the sunset, or at least the distance required to reach the awaiting limousine.

Tropes, tropes, tropes...that will be the theme this month and boy does Blazing Saddles completely throw these notions out the window.  While this is easily achievable within the context of the film being a comedy, Brooks manages to layer his deconstruction of the western as well as revisionist pieces that seem intent on suggesting that the landscape was anything but misogynistic and racist.  Characters like Bart and Lili Von Sthupp (Madeline Kahn) exist within the space of Rock Ridge to show how individuals of the era would likely have acted towards persons not white or male in the rough and tumble western towns.  Of course, revisionist westerns are filled with characters who seem completely at peace with racist internalizations and embrace oppressed individuals gladly.  For example, while Unforgiven is an excellent film, it certainly suffers from this high degree of over optimism regarding race relations, where as the previously mentioned Django Unchained, as well as Blazing Saddles make it quite clear that even the most open and liberal of minds in the era suffer from racist notions.  The Waco Kid is certainly willing to trust Bart, but that is not without first testing the waters and even then he still has moments in which racist assumptions move through his interactions.  In fact, should a person think that Blazing Saddles does not expressly concern itself with issues of race and the layers to which people acted in the past, his decided inclusion of an actor as Hitler, as well as a parallel between Nazi's and the Ku Klux Klan drives that notion directly into viewers minds, because if racism existed in 1930's and 1940's Germany its likelihood of existing in the 1870's American West was undeniable.  Furthermore, considering that racial issues were still huge in America in the mid-seventies, the commentary Brooks provides within Blazing Saddles adds a layer of meta-criticism, as some viewers were likely to retain similar, if not more degrading notions, of African American to those of Rock Ridge.  Of course so many other rejections of the western genre and its tropes occur, particularly when it is staginess is revealed, but an entire lecture could be formulated around Brooks use of post-modernism in such a way.

Key Scene:  There are so many zany, over-the-top moments in this film as far as comedy is concerned, but the subtlety Wilder uses in the very funny "smoking" scene had me laughing well after it moved on to another situation.

This bluray is super cheap and looks amazing, furthermore, it is a maddeningly funny film and you have no excuse not to own a copy.

I Got A Black Belt In Barstoolin': Foxy Brown (1974)

I would have been quite foolish to have gone the entire month without including a film from the blaxploitation explosion which occurred in American film during the 1970's, particularly, since the genre is full of some rather intriguing and unusual depictions of women, in some cases quite problematic, however, on occasion the women who possess spaces in these films did so with such a degree of authority and strength that they would become symbols of power and pride for women, particularly those of color, for decades to follow, and even be remade in loving homage by Quentin Tarantino.  At least this is the case for Jack Hill's 1974 blaxploitation classic Foxy Brown, which is a funky, fresh and absolutely thrilling look at the effect on drugs and urban black populations in the seventies.  Of course, sticking it to the man and promoting a drug-free culture within the African-American community was nothing new to blaxploitation films thematically and the idea was certainly not uncommon within the political debates occurring in urban communities during the era, however, one cannot ignore the masterful and, admittedly, awesome ways in which this rather run of the mill story unfolds in the world of Foxy Brown.  Like many of the era's classics, it is rife with some terrible acting and some of the most haphazard editing techniques ever comitted to film, which have come to signify some of the more negative elements of the genre, yet, it is also a film with an excellent soundtrack, some fun over-the-top fighting scenes and enough interracial relationships to make CPAC and the American Family Association go up in arms.  These are, obviously, the things that have made these low-budget urban flicks last and remain cinematically relevant.  Foxy Brown is an exception to its counterparts, with its strong and sensual female lead who is unarguably victim to the male gaze and cinematic objectification, yet her existence and abrasive confrontational attitude stand to confront this objectification head on, making Foxy Brown a girl of revolutionary means both cinematically, socially and historically all at once.

Foxy Brown, surprisingly enough, does indeed focus on a woman named Foxy Brown (Pam Grier) a black woman who seems to have it hard enough navigating the unwelcoming world around her, especially after her boyfriend became a victim of assault for working undercover to bust drug trafficking.  Even when he returns to society, it is as a new man, undergoing plastic surgery to change his alias.  Things seem to be great between Foxy and the new version of her boyfriend, yet her wily brother Link (Antonio Fargas) finds himself tied deeply into drugs himself both as a user and a dealer and quickly becomes financially indebted to the wrong people.  Realizing that Foxy's new lover is indeed the old narcotics officer, he rats him out for his own safety, leading to his murder.  This illogical murder and death of her lover, which has now essentially occurred twice, leads Foxy into a decided mode of revenge, in which, she seeks out all those involved in the wicked trade beginning with the lowly henchmen and working her way up to the druglords.  Along the way she meets an group of terrible, mostly white, people who find her foolish attempts, at the most humorous, always standing in her way, whether it be the simultaneously suave and gross Steve Elias (Peter Brown) who takes a sexual interest in Foxy, yet cannot remove himself from his oppressive state as a higher up in the drug trafficking.  Foxy also comes into contact, multiple times, with a woman named Katherine Wall (Kathryn Loder) who sees Foxy not only as a threat to the success of her brothel/drug ring, but her own power at a sexual figure as well.  After making quick work of everyone from the drug pushers to high-end politicians, Foxy finds herself at the point in which she must destroy the drug distributors at the root, and she recruits the help of her local Neighborhood Justice Comittee to end the terrible engagements.  This, of course, involves a ton of guns and shootouts, but Foxy eventually obtains what she wants, both justice for the wrongs exacted by drug dealers, as well as revenge for the people who were directly involved in the murder of her lover.  Despite being sexually objectified, beaten and forced to take heroin, Foxy moves from the situation a bigger and more threatening, not to mention enlightened woman.

So many a critics, particularly with a feminist lens in mind, have dismissed this film, and many other of the era for their heavy use of nudity and the naked female form, for what seem to be inexplicable moments.  I get this reading, trust me it is a film far from being void of problems, however, where I want to draw the line with a film like this is its distinct use of metaphor and message.  The body of Foxy is exploited and objectified, not for the sake of male gaze in a cinematic sense, but as a very real call to attention of these issues occurring on a large scale, especially within the urban community.  The film rejects the notion of black women as being highly-sexualized, in fact, Foxy inverts this notion and uses the bigotry to her advantage, playing up on this assumed sexuality to get a politician caught in a controversial act.  Similarly, the idea that the black woman is to reside in the back ground to the black male political cause is also rejected within the film, it is Foxy who saves her brother, and while she does require the help of a group of black men to, ultimately, take down the drug dealers, it is her image of empowered black woman that ends the film, leaving no question as to where she stands in relationship to the rest of her community.  However, what I think puts many theorists up in arms, is a scene depicting Foxy fighting a group of white, lesbian women in a dive bar.  They find her presence problematic and not entirely welcome, and one might anachronistically read this as a division of women, yet, one must remember that the film was released in 1974, at this point in time the National Organization for Women was still predominantly white women, and only two years earlier when Shirley Chisholm ran for president, NOW back a white male, to avoid the fears of losing in supporting a black woman.  It is a film of layers, to read into the nudity is a necessary one, without question, however, it extends to something much larger and more revolutionary.  Foxy is a woman, one of color and she fights against the man, which evolves far beyond the simple assumptions of rich white male wealth, essentially, this is a key moment in analyzing intersectionality, far before it became socially and theoretically acceptable to do so.

Key Scene:  The bar scene is everything one could want from a blaxploitation film in all its cheesy, yet awesome glory.

This film is super cheap, I do not foresee a bluray version coming out anytime soon, therefore, a DVD copy will suffice.

Superheroes? In New York? Give Me A Break: The Avengers (2012)

So I know this month is dedicated to women in film and I intend fully to still post at least one film a day from within that broad umbrella, but I have been viewing a streak of rather solid films along with the ones being posted about and I thought it would be a shame not to include some of them in between as well, especially considering that I am currently on break and need everything imaginable to avoid from actually having to write a paper that is due when I get back to school.  Furthermore, there are still and handful of movies I need to see from 2012 before properly making a list of my favorite films.  While The Avengers certainly could have been a contender in pretty much any other year of films, it will certainly not make to my top film list of this year, however, that is not to undermine its excellence by any means.  The Avengers stands as an excellent example of a superhero movie that is both wildly entertaining and also filled with philosophical reflections and more than a few political ideologies, yet, while they are made very present, unlike the far less successful The Dark Knight Rises, The Avengers manages to allow viewers to come to such commentaries on their own, as opposed to wasting an already lengthy runtime attempting to shove them down their throats.  Yet, Joss Whedon, in his infinite wisdom, is careful not to invest too much interest in any single ideology and, in fact, shows the positive elements, as well as the very negative portions of any given situation.  Furthermore, having failed to see any of the franchised characters films prior to this, I only had their collaboration to go off of, and I found the introductions to each character to be absolutely captivating and succinctly executed, providing even the most unfamiliar viewer, such as myself, with the necessary information on their positive traits as well as their flaws.  The best part about all of this positive execution is that even if it were not to be present the magnitude and commitment with which the action sequences are shot is so stellar and fresh that it could have been entirely watchable on these grounds alone.  The Avengers stands as a promising outlook onto what the blockbuster film can and should be and is quite deserved of its financial success.

The film begins with work being done at an underground facility run by the top secret globally financed  agency S.H.I.E.L.D. whose work with the Tessaract, a highly powerful cube made of some impenetrable space materials, has caught the attention of Loki (Tom Hiddleston) a demi-god from the planet of Arsgard who sees the item as a means to take control of, and subsequently destroy the earth.  He begins taking over the plant by putting its employees under control with a mind-altering specter, taking control of both the Tessaract's main engineer and Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) a highly trained archer who works for shield.  This all occurs despite heavy efforts by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) to stop Loki, yet when Loki gets away and it is made quite clear that global destruction is his plan, Fury demands that the collective known as the Avengers be assembled to challenge Loki.  This group includes a vast array of personalities, whether it be Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) an ex-assassin turned S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who finds herself troubled by a criminal past, the gamma ray physicist whose temperment has led him from simply being Dr. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) to that of The Hulk, as well as the aptly named Captain America (Chris Evans) who stands as America's first superhero, which is solidified by his being frozen underwater and only recently revived to be part of The Avengers.  The group also includes the "genius, playboy billionaire" Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) whose technological skills allow him to be Ironman, a nearly invincible fighting machine.  Finally, considering that Loki is their main enemy, the group also includes Thor (Chris Hemsworth) Loki's adoptive brother and protector of both Asgard and to some degree Earth.  Further along the line they also pull Hawkeye from Loki's power and bring him back to The Avengers.  Suffice to say, this group must learn to play nice together, between dueling egos and past injustices, they eventually come together, but even their heavy degree of unity is challenged by the sheer power of Loki and his army of alien beasts.  This eventually requires a heavy moral push on the part of Fury and the sacrifice of a few officers in the process.  Fortunately, the group does eventually overcome Loki and safe the earth from being consumed in a large black mass.  All of them go their separate ways having grown from the experience, however, as a sequence after the closing credits suggests, it is far from their last bout together.

The film makes it blatantly clear that no individual within The Avengers is completely void of problems, whether it be Tony Stark creating a shell of a life of decadence to protect from the very real fact that he has shrapnel inches from his heart that could kill him at any moment, or Bruce Banner whose quest to advance humankind resulted in such frustration and disappointment that he can no longer control his mental state, or Black Widow whose negative past life has become so prominent that navigating through the current world proves nearly impossible.  Even the seemingly forward thinking Captain America suffers from relevance issues in his inability to relate to a contemporary world that does not embrace his jingoistic ideologies, let alone look positively on the image of the American flag.  One could read each of the members of The Avengers, including the demi-god Thor, as ways to approach issues in the world, Thor of course representing the placing of one's hopes in a higher power, Captain America as a putting hope in a group ideal, or Stark as a means to use money to escape the real issues of ones life.  However, as the narrative created by Whedon shows, none of these answers work with any degree of success when placed on their own, yet when a combination of these come together it helps considerably and they can take on even the most seemingly insurmountable of forces.  It reads nicely as a coming together narrative of diversity, even if the group is noticeably occupied by white bodies, something that will hopefully change in the years to come, as it relates to comic book heroes.  The brilliance comes not in this commentary, however, but in the reminder that in many instances this occurs through a shared ideal, one that transcends personal vendettas, and, often, this shared idea has been fabricated by some half-truth, in the case of The Avengers, it is overselling the sacrifice of an officer on the part of Nick Fury that really pushes them into action.  The film clearly asks viewers to consider if such exploitation is justified and, if so, who is to be praised, the superheroes or the man who put them into action?  If all this were not enough, it also critiques the way in which power is controlled by a council of shadowy figures, which seems to be more and more a truth in a world of global wars and back room political dealings.

Key Scene:  As great as "that one scene with The Hulk" is, I have to show favor to the Stuttgart scene, because it is a direct counter to the normal tradition of superhero movies and was much welcomed on my part.

This is certainly worth buying, although I would personally wait for it to drop in price before doing so, considering that it was mass produced, it is only a matter of time.

I'm A Bagel On A Plate Full Of Onion Rolls: Funny Girl (1968)

I must admit that my growing up in a world of South Park and Family Guy created a certain expectation of Barbara Streisand as being this over-the-top and over-the-hill performer whose dramatics and larger than life sensibilities were a thing to be mocked, this information was of course all procured without every actually seeing a single film involving Streisand, or hearing any of her music for that matter.  Since those days that seem so long ago I have come to understand Streisand as a legitimate performer and a woman more than capable of singing.  Sure she has a certain degree of maudlin about her performances, just check out her homage to Marvin Hamlisch at this years Oscars.  Yet to completely dismiss her as a performer is illogical, it is simply a performance method that works surprisingly well for her stylistically and represents the theatricality that seems to evidence Streisand's staying power.  No worries if this is all a bit new, I only came to this realization after watching Funny Girl yesterday as a part of this month of women oriented film, of which, I knew I could not overlook Streisand.  In this film, much is to be said about her commitment to theatricality as a means to acknowledge her otherness, both as a Jewish woman and one whose body image does not necessarily reflect that of the societal mythologized ideal.  Through an embracing of humor, Streisand and director William Wyler depict a larger social commentary within a rather normal musical.  I say that not to dismiss it cinematically, it is by no means the most stellar musical I have ever seen, but it does take its critical lens very seriously and nearly deserves unadulterated praise for that alone.  While, Streisand makes the film comedic, she is also very aware of the seriousness of the narrative, particularly as it relates to expectations in a heteronormative relationship, something that can prove disparaging when both parties have not laid out their expectations from the onset.  Overall, Funny Girl does not stand out as a flawless piece of filmmaking and suffers from its misguided concern for showiness, yet Barbara Streisand is phenomenal and certainly deserved the Oscar she obtained, as a result, and just to reemphasize this fact, Streisand can sing, and she sure shows it in this film.

Funny Girl centers on Fanny Brice (Barbara Streisand) a now successful Broadway performer who is setting introspectively in the theater putting on a recent production of Ziegfeld Follies, for which she is the star.  The film then moves to a flashback, in which viewers are shown Fanny's twisting and unconventional move to stardom from being the object of affection in her crowded Jewish home to making a name for herself not as an outright Broadway beauty, but for learning to embrace her considerable attractiveness, while also using her unconventional looks as a means to poke fun at her performances, something crowds love, despite the frustration of her manager.  During one of her early performances she meets Nick Arnstein (Omar Scharif) an exotic horse racer and gambler who takes an instant liking to Fanny, to which she is more than welcoming, finding his dark features and suave mannerisms to be captivating.  The narrative then moves into Fanny and Nick learning to navigate their decidedly different lifestyles, for Fanny constant traveling and for Nick needing to stay put when luck suits him to do so.  However, one thing is clear the two care deeply for each other and eventually agree to get married, something that both embrace dearly, yet no amount of affirmation can help to contest their truly unique lifestyles and when Nicky fails to attend one of Fanny's performances due to riding a hot hand of gambling the two have a considerable falling out, yet, Fanny knows he was only doing what he thought to be in his best interests.  When it is revealed that Nicky has accrued huge debts she attempts to help him by providing him with a job prospect, but his desire to be self-made causes him to refuse, ending up with him becoming involved in an illegal bond trade and subsequent arrest, all the while Fanny trucks along with her career, up until the moment from the films opening, where she is now revealed to be sitting and awaiting the return of her loving husband, while also realizing that the world she exists in is something she obtained almost entirely on her own, aside from an initial white lie on the part of Nicky to expedite the process.

Funny Girl almost mocks the assumption that everything financial should necessarily involve a masculine presence.  While Ziegfeld the character is certainly present in the narrative and finances many of the performances in which Fanny earns her reputation, she refuses to adhere to the uniformed rigidity associated with such situations, much to his dismay, although he realizes that attempting to subdue anything that is Fanny would be to ruin her stardom and presence on stage.  Even her husband Nicky proves to contradict the image of masculine provision, in that he makes money intermittently and is always seemingly lost within moments to follow, yet he finds it impossible not to navigate the capitalist fueled world of bourgeois decadence, complete with phallic cigars, near empty brandy sifters and thousand dollar bills.  It would be easy to state that Nicky has a gambling problem, yet, when he has a chance to win money against Fanny's family with a sure hand he refuses to do so, perhaps solely as a result of respect, but more likely a result of his assumptions of money and masculinity.  His choice to not take money from these women is somewhat ironic, because it is made rather obvious that these woman have managed to create a space all their own completely detached from masculine provisions.  Sure it is not as lavish and luxurious a world as the card rooms where Nicky plays, or the crystallized worlds of Fanny's stages, but they are happy in their self-sufficiency and ability to navigate their world with considerable success.  This is clearly something that influences Fanny as she uses it as an inspiration to strive for career advancement, which she does, despite being and othered other.  The closing scenes of her occupying an entire theater only speak to how successful she has become with her economic endeavors, which, unlike Nicky, are backed by mental comfort as well.

Key Scene:  The rollerskating scene is hilarious and well done and helps to explain why this film gets referenced so frequently as one of the best musicals of all time.

This did not blow me away by any means, but it has a historical relevance and says some interesting things within its narrative, as such I strongly encourage renting it, or finding a streaming version.

Let Joy Be Unconfined: A Night At The Opera (1935)

A Night at the Opera is by no means my first engagement with the beloved Marx Brothers, for whom all comedic film is to thank, and rightfully so considering that they were the veritable grandfathers of every comedic styling imaginable, aside only from toilet humor it appears, but even that manages to sneak in occasionally.  As part of my relatively recent discovery of the film podcast Filmspotting, I have come to appreciate not only their gloriously terrible "Massacre Theater," but their ever impressive film viewing marathons, and while I found myself incapable of following along with their blaxploitation marathon, I assured myself that I would at least engage within one film in their Marx Brothers marathon.  I was able to catch up with A Night at the Opera and despite the seeming dissatisfaction the duo appears to have had with the classics of comedy, I could not help but still adore this film, even with their criticism of the other works in the back of my head.  Sure some of the jokes fail to land in the films, but much of that is, undoubtedly, a result of contemporary viewer's considerable distance from the material, yet one must truly consider that nearly all of this film is engaged in humor, almost all of which is uproariously hilarious and well-delivered, even layering upon itself, to make, dare I say, meta-comedy.  One is also reminded, while watching this particular Marx Brothers film, that the group was necessarily tied to vaudeville performances, particularly the fact that often in their routines they did more than just crack jokes, but could actually deliver some rather stellar music performances and choreographed dance/acrobatic numbers.  Furthermore, while much of the film is focused primarily on the gags and insanity of the Marx Brothers' characters, it also does have a larger overarching story, which only passingly involves the comedic trio, and considering that it is a secondary element of the narrative it is, nonetheless, a decent offering.  Also, as appears to very much be the case for Marx Brothers works as a whole, A Night at the Opera is incredibly anarchistic and completely dismissive of any sort of social guidelines or rules, and it is perhaps in this clear consideration of all that is to be maddening that it is to be adored.

A Night at the Opera begins in an non-descript European country in which opera is highly praised, it was, of course, intended to be Italy, but due to its date of release censors demanded that references to the country be removed.  Regardless, in this country exists one Otis B. Driftwood (Groucho Marx) who has made a living by playing on the beliefs of one Mrs. Claypool (Margaret Dumont) that he has the power to make her a relevant figure in the high class society, however, Driftwood is merely a very well-spoken con man and manages to take her for money, while making her believe that she can achieve prevalence by becoming friends with the local opera managers.  All the while, Driftwood seeks another means to gain money and finds it through a burgeoning opera star named Riccardo (Alan Jones) who is managed by the wry and slightly abrasive Fiorello (Chico Marx).  Driftwood and Fiorello strike up a contract, or lack thereof, in which they obtain money for Riccardo's performances, although they both seem quite aware that to assure this success they must dethrone the opera company's shining star Rodolfo (Walter Woolf King), which also means Driftwood losing his ties to the higher end opera figures.  Also within the mix is the wardrobe/stage/sound manager and mute Tomasso (Harpo Marx) who seems more content with showing how he can ruin a job than actually complete it with any degree of proficiency.  The entire opera troupe ends up taking up a job performing in The United States leading to a portion of the narrative occurring on the ship, during which time, the sly ways of Driftwood, Fiorello and Tomasso are brought to attention, yet their ability to think on their feet allows them to evade arrest and eventually shack up in an decent apartment until the opera season begins, at which time they use the opportunity to create chaos within the theater allowing for Riccardo to gain prominence, while also destroying the image of Rodolfo.  In the closing moments, everyone seems to have won their desired possession, except of course Rodolfo, but the narrative clearly makes him the bad guy and a person deserved of criticism.

I mentioned the anarchistic elements of A Night at the Opera as something rather present in much of the  work of the Marx Brothers.  I mean to say this both as a narrative device and, in some regards a cinematic sense, while the stylistic elements are certainly not as intentionally undermining as something done by Godard or Tarkovsky, they certainly exist within A Night at the Opera, particularly the act of speeding up images, or cramming the space within as many bodies possible would reflect this, especially as we see within the scene staged within the lower deck of the ship.  Language, is, undoubtedly, a part of the anarchy of a Marx Brothers film, obviously rooted within Groucho whose sure fire and every ready wit have become a bit of an iconic thing within cinema and cultural history.  Yet he is not the only one reconsidering language, Chico's purposeful misunderstanding, or, more importantly, refusal to understand certain terms could be their own place of anarchy within the filmic narrative.  Then, of course, there is Harpo whose refusal to say even the simplest phrase makes his use of language absolutely, and, undeniably, anarchistic.  If these elements are not enough to sway a reader as to the anarchistic nature of the Marx Brothers and A Night at the Opera specifically, the complete dismissal of everything bourgeois and sophisticated certainly should. One can see this in a super specific situation when looking and Driftwood and Fiorello attempting to create a contract, only to completely destroy it in the process, however, this also absolutely and obviously occurs within the final opera sequence when ever sense of normalcy and class separation is deconstructed through acts of acrobatics, bringing a working class game of baseball into the space, or by completely throwing of the staging of the play by dropping different scenery onto the stage.  It should be acknowledge, however, that not even the Marx Brothers believe that everything is a justification for insanity and even they can find moments of serenity and poetic transcendence.

Key Scene:  This serenity actually becomes the films highest moment, when viewers are treated to a Truffaut-like scene of Harpo and Chico playing music for children on board the ship that is a thing of legitimate cinematic beauty.

This DVD is relatively easy to come by and with no apparent bluray release in the future it is well worth the investment.

I Am A Golden God: Almost Famous (2000)

There is a consensus that Dazed and Confused is one of the best reflections of a historical moment ever put to film, which perhaps helps to explain its unquestioned place at the top of film hierarchy between its sweet soundtrack and great cast, and I am certainly somebody who dotes on the film whenever possible.  Yet viewing Almost Famous earlier today has really thrown a layer of perspective on the entire debate, as it is an equal and at times better film than Dazed and Confused while theoretically focusing on the same post-rock'n'roll disillusioned youth culture of the front half of the seventies.  I use the word theoretically because where Dazed and Confused chooses to focus on a seemingly mundane group of individuals dealing with grandiose and heightened issues, Almost Famous is precisely the opposite choosing to situate its narrative within the most lively portion of the era, while considering some of the most mundanely troubling aspects of human existence.  Cameron Crowe, perhaps most well-known for Jerry Maguire and one LL Cool J demanding financial compensation, yet what exists within Crowe's ode to an era is a love letter to some lost moment of childhood, or perhaps of an entire generation, one that is a sweetly sentimental as it is brutally detached from the situation.  It provides viewers with something that is both completely grounded in reality, as well as being somewhat stylized and expressionistic in its approach.  The America that is depicted through travel within Almost Famous is both rejecting the old social order, while also attempting to consider how to properly reinstate some sort of authoritative figurehead.  It seems as though Crowe's very personal film attempts to reach out and consider how much control individuals had during the time, while also suggesting that many involved were actively attempting to avoid responsibility, making the handful who genuinely sought to guide themselves with a legitimate moral compass equally confused and lacking direction without any degree of support.  Almost Famous is a manifest of sorts to an era long gone, a film whose millennial release date says much about the manner with which the characters move through their space disconnected, yet harping upon a less than grounded belief in a shared culture.  Short of calling Almost Famous a revelation, one could certainly deem it necessary viewing.

Almost Famous focuses on the wide-eyed William Miller (Patrick Fugit) an aspiring music critic who is constantly dealing with the loss of a father at a young age, and overbearing anti-anything produced by society mother named Elaine (Frances McDormand), as well as the loss of a close relationship with his sister Anita (Zooey Deschanel) who leaves the house to pursue a career as a stewardess.  When William is encouraged by a minimally successful local critic, named Lester Bangs (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), to write about an up and coming band named Stillwater, he moves away from the nest, much to the worrying and fretting of his mother.  Yet, the magnetism of Stillwater with their boisterous lead singer Jeff Bebe (Jason Lee) and their enigmatic guitarist Russell Hammond (Billy Crudup), proves to much for William to ignore and while passing as being considerably older than he is manages to land a gig as a roving reporter for The Rolling Stone who see Stillwater as the "next big thing."  William also meets Penny Lane (Kate Hudson) a self-proclaimed "band-aid" which she claims to be distinctly different from a groupie in that they actually inspire songs in the groups and purposefully avoid having sex with band members.  Needless to say, the trip across America proves to be a veritable wakeup call for the young William, who is witness to all kinds of decadence, debauchery and danger, all the while Elaine constantly assuring his safety to no avail.  It is also along this trip that William becomes enlightened to the woes related to being pushed through the ringer of celebrity life.  He witnesses Russell spiral through a multitude of identity issues, not to mention a problematic love triangle between Russell and Penny, with William being an onlooking third participant.  Of course, as was the case for so many bands before and after, Stillwater finds themselves doomed for failure based on their dysfunctional dichotomy and the general deception of the music industry.  William catalogs the entire unravelling of the band while also dealing with his own existential crisis, tied both to his inability to return home in times of desperation, as well as his inability to consummate anything of value with Penny.  As the tour winds down William is beleaguered and returns home to a welcoming Elaine and a world weary Anita.  Although the band denies the report he files to The Rolling Stone a final scene involving redemption between Russell and William proves all the reward the recent high school graduate could have desired.

It is a tricky thing for a filmmaker to create an narrative so heavily invested in considering the human condition, let alone one within such a setting relative privilege.  Usually films of this grand introspection require at the very least a third world setting or some degree of impoverishment.  However, I would argue that Crowe's particular choice to set the film in the early seventies provides a degree of moral and social decrepitude equal to that, without forfeiting the hipness of "rock'n'roll" or music culture.  The characters, both main and extras, seem to simply wander through their spaces hoping for momentary collisions of understanding, some attaching themselves to a single band, as is the case with one overly committed Led Zeppelin fan, or to an idea, as occurs with Penny Lane who seems tied to the idea of Stillwater, both prove tragic because not only of their singularity, but also because of their assured promise of disappointment, considering that Stillwater does not stay together and, historically speaking, neither did Led Zeppelin.  The way the characters involuntarily engage with one another both embracing and denying its necessity was a theme that seems to have failed in a film like Crash, but works so perfectly within this work.  William's groundedness throughout the film is not a result of his stronger moral upbringing, although it clearly helps him keep his head straight in later portions of the trip, but instead his commitment to his own personal escapism through music, however, unlike the others who use it as a pseudo-drug, William sees it as a metaphor for live and forms a healthy relationship with each musical moment, often choosing not to join in on sing-alongs, opting instead to study each person rendering their voice to a song, this occurs most noticeably with a famous Elton John song.  Yet when groundedness literally becomes an impossibility for William, even he breaks down and is forced to reconsider his value placements, confronting the group for their treatment of Penny, not because he thinks it is particularly unjust to Penny, but because it is unfair to him and his desires for her.  The choice to situate the final scenes of the film at William's home are key, because even though he has travelled and seen an awful lot for his age, he is still quite young and deserves a chance to remain a child a bit longer.

Key Scene:  The opening credits are awesome, if not those, it is certainly the airplane scene.

Buy this movie, it is well worth the few bucks you will have to shuck out to enjoy its brilliance.  In fact, I suggest a joint viewing with Dazed and Confused, as they both use different avenues to make similar considerations about seventies America, in fact, just think about both films closing settings.