Film 101—Spielberg II: To Boldly Go…

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Spielberg

In a way, this post on captains, creatures, and crusaders is the sequel to Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, but with a focus on exploration and action-adventure.* While there are fewer trains, there are an awful lot of planes and ships and a continuing emphasis on travel and movement. And sunsets, of course. Lots of sunsets.

Crusaders
The Indiana Jones movies seem to fit so perfectly into the Spielberg canon, it is easy to forget that the original character was very much a creation of George Lucas, who was instrumental in the production of the first film in the series, Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981). Raiders proved to be such a success (even garnering five Oscars, for Art Direction, Editing, Sound, Sound Effects Editing, and Visual Effects as well as nominations for Best Picture, Cinematography, Directing, and Score) that it was soon followed by Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom in 1984 and then Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade in 1989. If only they had stopped there, but no, they just had to make Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008), of which it may be best to say as little as possible.

Coming into this project, my love of Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) was very clear. I selected the film for Best Opening, Desert Island Film, and Best Score. I still have a great fondness for Raiders, but also a new appreciation for Temple of Doom and new insight into Last Crusade. Watching them together, there are definite patterns that emerge: For example, in each, the Paramount mountain logo fades to a mountain on the screen. In Raiders, it is a real mountain in Central America, in Temple of Doom, it is a mountain depicted on a large gong, in Last Crusade, it is a rock formation in Arches National Park, and in Crystal Skull, it is a gopher mound in the desert (tacit admission, perhaps?). I love that kind of attention to detail.

Additionally, each opening sequence is modeled after a particular film genre, the old action-adventure serials for Raiders, 1930s musicals and screwball comedies for Temple of Doom, westerns for Last Crusade, and science fiction for Crystal Skull. This is one thing I love about Spielberg, and we already saw it at work in 1941—his deep love and knowledge of cinema history and his integration of that history into his work. These openings are very reminiscent of James Bond films (although in each one Indiana Jones ultimately loses the object he is seeking to a rival) and it was not surprising to me to learn that it was this type of character and film that Spielberg had in mind when he originally discussed the project with Lucas.

While ultimately I think that Raiders is by far the best film, there are many highlights throughout the series that merit and reward repeat viewings, except, of course, for Crystal Skull, which was even worse than I remembered. I mean, really, from the bands of Russians roaming freely through Nevada to the giant ants consuming a body in mere seconds, not to mention the magnetic-when-convenient alien and using a refrigerator to survive a nuclear bomb, honestly, I can’t even discuss that film seriously. Let’s speak of it no more.

Random things I love about the Indiana Jones movies:

1) Maps. I just love the whole marking his route on maps thing. And Indy’s very first trip to Nepal starts in San Francisco as he flies over the Golden Gate Bridge!

2) Marion’s introduction in Raiders. You know I’m going to love a scene where a woman drinks a man under the table. And this talent isn’t just a clever introduction, it actually comes up later as Marion tries to escape in the desert. I appreciate that the women in this series are not just window dressing, but rather individually drawn characters.

Come on. I’ll buy you a drink. You know… a drink?

—Marion Ravenwood has the last word in Raiders of the Lost Ark

3) The basket chase in Raiders. As this website points out, this scene owes much to Hitchcock, but the music reminds me of David Lean’s Lawrence of Arabia, a favorite of Spielberg. This, and the sword/gunshot battle just before it, capture the often slapstick nature of the series.

4) Sallah’s love of Gilbert and Sullivan. Why this denizen of the desert repeatedly sings tunes from H.M.S. Pinafore, I’m sure I don’t know, but I love him for it.

5) Katanga, the ship’s captain in Raiders. A great example of a minor character who nevertheless is fleshed out with a distinct personality and moral code.

6) Club Obi Wan. Oh, did you miss that in Temple of Doom? I’m sure I did when I first saw it (along with the fact that this film actually takes place in 1935, one year before the events of Raiders), but, yes, the brilliant opening scene takes place in Shanghai in Club Obi Wan. This scene is probably my favorite opener. I’m quite sure the first shot must be an homage to the Rank gongman, who first appeared in British productions in 1935. There is also a heavy James Bond influence here, from the costumes and set, to the Lazy Susan gag, and then especially the raft down the mountain at the very end of the sequence.

7) The ice spilling out over the floor in Temple of Doom. Perhaps my favorite moment in the opener above is when Willie Scott (Kate Capshaw) is frustrated in her chase after the diamond when two buckets of ice spill across the floor, effectively hiding it forever. This diamond/antidote chase sets the screwball tone that really improved the film for me this time around. When viewed through that lens, Willie and so many other elements start to make sense and seem far less annoying than I remembered. (Although I still hate the heart thing. Yuck.)

8) The flying monkeys in Temple of Doom. Okay, not really, but the shot of the bats as Indy, Willie, and Short Round are approaching Pankot Palace reminded me of the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz. And Dan Ackroyd’s cameo at the airport had a distinctly Casablanca vibe. People talk about Tarantino’s filmic references, but there are so many in Spielberg’s work.

9) Sean Connery as Henry Jones in Last Crusade. This was just brilliant casting and he and Ford make a great team. I love the scene when they are tied together and Connery starts the fire. Their reconciliation near the end of the film, when Connery calls Ford Indiana instead of Junior, is very moving. Of course, River Phoenix as the young Indiana Jones isn’t bad either.

10) The train in Last Crusade. Note that while Spielberg seems to have left his train obsession behind for most of this series, this train plays an extremely important role, providing much of the origin story for Indy’s character, from his fear of snakes to the use of the whip. Also, that initial shot of the train moving across the landscape has David Lean written all over it.

11) The umbrella and the birds in Last Crusade. I think that Last Crusade leans a little too heavily on campy humor (the Ark joke, the Hitler autograph) and action sequences (the boat chase, the interminable tank fight) and this scene is a reminder of how simple is sometimes best. It also highlights the gulf between the two leads.

12) The three riddles in Last Crusade. My love of puzzles of all kinds makes this sequence stand out from the seemingly relentless action set pieces of the third installment. This obstacle course is a great throwback to the original Raiders opening, in fact, I had muddled them in my memory and was surprised at how short the “puzzle” part was in Raiders when I rewatched.

13) Sunset shots. While the iconic shot is probably the end of Last Crusade, with Indy, Henry, Marcus, and Sallah riding off into sunset, I love the shot at the dig site in Cairo after they have pinpointed the location of the Ark. One of Spielberg’s prettiest sunsets is the one at Pankot Palace in Temple of Doom.

There is not too much to find fault with in these three movies. One consistent problem is the continuity of mechanisms—the speed of lowering doors, ceilings, etc. often does not match the time Indy has to get out. I realize this is done to ratchet up the tension, but it is so far off as to be ridiculous.

A few things don’t quite fit in this world, notably the Kali Ma sequence in Temple of Doom (which seems like something from an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer does it not?), Indy’s blatant destruction of the library/church floor in Last Crusade, and the presence of the knight in the final scenes of Last Crusade, especially the waving part. But these are minor quibbles, all three installments are worth watching multiple times.

Creatures
While the Indiana Jones films have many layers and can be appreciated on multiple levels, the Jurassic Park films are more straight-up “creature features”—in fact, I had initially thought I would write up Jaws, E.T., and Jurassic Park as a separate post under this banner, but, as I watched them one after the other, they didn’t really seem to go together thematically. And, while Jurassic Park (1993) is an incredible film, it is not really on the same level of cinematic achievement as the other two, and The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997) is really just a remake of King Kong, but with dinosaurs. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I love King Kong in all its incarnations. [Confession: my shocking order of preference is 1976, 1933, 2005.]

What have they got in there, King Kong?

—An eerily prophetic Ian Malcolm upon entering Jurassic Park

Of course, Jurassic Park itself is really just a slasher film in disguise, albeit one with terrific pacing, writing, and special effects. And, like the best slasher films, it has just the right mix of terror and humor. As always, Spielberg is very deliberate with his camera; for example, the kitchen sequence with Lex and her reflection is a thing of genius. But my favorite scene is probably the one with the impact tremors of the T-Rex in the glass of water in the jeep.

Less character-driven than most of his other adventure films, Jurassic Park does give us Dr. Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum), the only reason to even watch the sequel (apart from a few glorious shots such as the glass slowly breaking under Julianne Moore suspended in the RV over the ocean and the ship coming out of the fog and crashing into the pier in San Diego).

One reason I think Jurassic Park doesn’t quite measure up to Spielberg’s earlier adventure films is that it seems very self-aware (this is also partly why I think Last Crusade is less successful than Raiders). This awareness is quite blatant in the character of Malcolm, who deliciously comments on the mayhem, years before the arrival of self-aware slasher films like Scream and Cabin in the Woods. This self-awareness is indicative of what will prove to be a turning point in Spielberg’s career, as he leaves behind his mostly hopeful, relatively innocent films to take on much more serious, often pessimistic, subjects, starting with Schindler’s List (1993) released just six months later.

Captains
Hook (1991), which was released between Last Crusade and Jurassic Park, also reflects this developing pessimism, and is almost a last-ditch attempt to preserve a childlike sense of wonder, much as Peter Pan refuses to grow up in the original story. However, this attempt is an utter failure. As bad as Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was (and it was), it still wasn’t as bad as Hook. If you haven’t seen it (and please don’t), the story follows an adult Peter Pan (Robin Williams), who doesn’t remember his earlier life until he flies to London to visit Granny Wendy (Maggie Smith), and Captain Hook (Dustin Hoffman) kidnaps his children, forcing him to return to Neverland and rescue them. Julia Roberts is woefully miscast as Tinker Bell and pretty much brings down the whole movie single-handedly, although the Lost Boys were pretty bad too. And, if that’s not enough, for those haters out there, Gwyneth Paltrow makes a cameo appearance as the young Wendy. In the end, all gets wrapped up in a saccharine bow—fatherhood is beautiful, blah, blah, blah, life’s an adventure, blah, blah, blah—ugh.

Thankfully, in recent years, a new captain has come on the scene, one that perhaps indicates a return to the glorious action-adventure of yore. I said in my first Spielberg post that the film I was most looking forward to was The Adventures of Tintin (2011) and I wasn’t disappointed; I really loved it. The motion capture looks far better than I anticipated and the film exhibits a great respect for the original comic book series. In fact, if you know the books well, there are numerous Easter eggs throughout for Tintin fans, especially in the opening credit sequence, the first scene in the open-air market, and Tintin’s apartment. The animation is absolutely gorgeous, particularly the depiction of the ocean and desert landscapes, as well as the detail found in the street scenes in Europe and Morocco.

If you are not a Tintin fan, think of him as a proto-Indiana Jones, with a touch of James Bond. Spielberg’s movie weaves parts of three separate stories into one adventure tale involving intrepid reporter Tintin, his faithful dog Milou (Snowy), and soon-to-be-sidekick Captain Haddock, all chasing after the mystery of a model ship and the treasure of Haddock’s seafaring ancestor. There are numerous elements changed or rearranged from the original books, but I thought they made good choices overall. The two things that seem a bit off because of these changes are the fact that Tintin buys the ship before knowing Haddock (in the books, it’s a present for him), and the pickpocket (which is how they finally reunite the three rolls of parchment). Here, the whole pickpocket storyline seems superfluous, although it serves to keep the detectives Dupont and Dupond (Thompson and Thomson) in the story, so I guess I can live with it. Milou, as always, is awesome.

One can only hope this is a captain and crew who will go on and on to further adventures.

*Note: I’m sort of assuming you know the plot of most of these films. If you want to see where they fall in the Spielberg filmography, click here.

Ballet 101—Cinderella

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Ballet

This past Saturday, I went with La Belle Chantal (or Chanterella as she decided to refer to herself for the evening) to the final program of the San Francisco Ballet’s 2013 Season. This production of Prokofiev’s Cinderella was a new one, a joint venture with the Dutch National Ballet choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon, who recently created Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland for The Royal Ballet in London. The plot departed in a number of ways from the traditional ballet, taking inspiration from both the Perrault and Grimm versions of the tale, as well as Rossini’s opera, La Cenerentola. So, while the basic story is quite familiar, I was happy I had read the synopsis ahead of time since some of the details were easy to miss: such as the fact that the prince and his childhood friend (the valet’s son) change places to deliver the ball invitations, or that they both arrive drunk at the ball. Also, one of the sisters is nicer than the other, but that doesn’t come across very clearly either, especially if you come in already thinking they are both mean.

While the overall production was impressive, at times the choreography seemed uninspired and the plot rather muddled, as if they threw all of their fantastic ideas together onto the stage and forgot about the dancing. I loved the humor of the piece, especially from Hortensia, the evil stepmother (Marie-Claire D’Lyse), and the two stepsisters, Edwina (Vanessa Zahorian) and Clementine (Dores Andre), but, like last year’s Don Quixote, I felt it spent too much time on laughs, especially to the detriment of Cinderella’s part, which (let’s face it) should be front and center. It’s sad when the sublime Yuan Yuan Tan is not given very much to do, especially when I just saw her as Tatiana in Onegin and know she can kill it.

Cinderella’s slipper. Neither glass nor ruby, but gold.

In sum, when it worked, it really worked, but I spent the night going back and forth in my assessment and left thinking it could have been so much better.

I Loved It: The opening scene, a sort of prologue that relates the death of Cinderella’s mother and introduces the tree that sprouts from her grave, watered by Cinderella’s tears. The mother was beautifully danced by corps member Charlene Cohen, who so impressed me in Ibsen’s House.

I Loved It Not: The seven (yes, seven!) scenes in Act I. Traditionally, the first act jumps right into the preparations for the ball, first by Cinderella’s stepmother and stepsisters, and then with the Fairy Godmother. While I liked the first scene showing the death of Cinderella’s mother, I found the secondary prologue, showing the rambunctious nature of the young prince and his friend Benjamin, superfluous, although the staging sets us up for a mirror image of Cinderella fleeing the ball years later. The third scene, showing the introduction of Cinderella to her new stepmother is also unnecessary. The fourth scene, where the King explains to his son the importance of who he chooses to marry and his friend mocks the prospective brides (whose portraits on the walls become animated), was humorous, but again, not particularly necessary.

I Loved It: The fifth scene brings us to the proper start of the story, with Cinderella serving and being bullied by her family. When the Prince (Luke Ingham) arrives disguised as a beggar, he receives shoddy treatment by the stepmother and kindness from Cinderella; meanwhile, Benjamin (Taras Domitro), who is disguised as the Prince, gets the royal treatment from the stepsisters. Here, there is a lovely bit of choreography between Cinderella and the Prince that I quite liked.

I Loved It Not: Scenes six and seven involve Cinderella’s family leaving for the ball without her and the Fates, who have watched over her since her mother died, bringing her to the tree by her mother’s grave. Here is where things get a bit muddled. Four spirits emerge one after the other, each one representing a season from the original ballet: Lightness is spring, Generosity is summer, Mystery is autumn, and Fluidity is winter. The spirits teach Cinderella the steps she will need for the ball. However, you would never get that if you hadn’t read the program. And this is one place where I would have loved to see more creative choreography.

I Loved It: The tree. The tree during this whole section was extremely cool, changing with the seasons and at times enveloping the dancers. Eventually, wheels evolve from the branches and the Fates transform into horses to pull the chariot that emerges. From a visual perspective, this sequence was amazing.

The Fates lead Cinderella to the ball. Photo by Erik Tomasson.

I Loved It: The ball! The ball occupies the entirety of Act II and I loved it. When the curtain came down, I turned to Chanterella and said, “I take it all back!” The costumes of most of the guests were very lush—not quite pure jewel tones, but rather warm versions of dark green, blue, and purple. The soloists here, in the form of prospective brides from Bali, Russia, and Spain, came off quite well, but the real stars of this ball were the “clumsy” stepsisters—I can’t even imagine the technique it must require to dance badly well—and Cinderella’s stepmother, who ends up getting drunk and has a hilarious solo, before ripping off Cinderella’s mask and forcing her to flee the ball.

Couples dance at the ball in Cinderella. Photo by Erik Tomasson.

I Loved It Not: The ball was not without its problems. For one, neither Cinderella’s nor the Prince’s solo was particularly creative, nor was their pas de deux. The Prince’s solo was especially odd since he was dancing for at least four counts before his music began. Also, he looked like he was dancing in The Nutcracker. For all that the costumes in this act were pitch perfect, the tomato red color of the Prince’s outfit was one of two false notes, the other being the magenta dress of the Spanish dancer. They both looked cheap in comparison to everyone else.

The Prince considers potential brides. Photo by Erik Tomasson.

I Loved It: The first scene of Act III and the line dance of musical chairs across the front of the stage as the Prince tries to fit the gold slipper on a motley crew of wanna-be princesses.

I Loved It Not: At the end of the first scene, the chairs rise slowly up to form an arch back in Cinderella’s home. Like many of the production elements, this seemed a little too complicated, and more fitting for an opera production. It didn’t work for me at all, but Chanterella thought it looked cool. And again, in the final wedding scene back at the tree, there was too much going on. Courtiers dressed as shepherdesses, really? It’s like they needed to use up leftover money in the costume budget or something.

I Loved It: The final pas de deux between Cinderella and the Prince. This is the type of fairytale romance we should have seen during the ball.

Cinderella runs through May 12 at the War Memorial Opera House; however, the entire run is sold out with only limited Standing Room tickets available for each performance.

Film 101—Spielberg I: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

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Spielberg

What I realized watching Spielberg’s early films in close succession is that they are all about movement, often involving transport and travel. If not cars, then planes, if not planes, then trains. And if you are wondering which Spielberg movie has trains, then you haven’t been paying attention—they pop up in the oddest places.

Whether you consider his first film to be Duel (1971), which was originally made for television but later expanded with additional footage to be released as a feature film, or The Sugarland Express (1974), the road was clearly Steven Spielberg’s middle name from the beginning.

Duel (1971) is a psychological thriller about a businessman who sets off on the road and is terrorized by a truck driver whose face we never see. This movie, which has almost no dialogue, was as creepy and intense as I remembered. You can see why the director who made this would go on to make Jaws: that enormous truck is every bit as menacing as a shark, perhaps even more so, since it is driven by a person, a deliberate stalker with no apparent motivation. Stylistically, you can definitely peg this as early Spielberg, with a number of interesting framing shots, such as viewing the protagonist (Dennis Weaver) on the phone through the round window of a washing-machine door. Duel also marks the first of many Spielberg sunset shots.

Train sighting: Part of the additional footage shot for the European theatrical release was of the car above being pushed into passing train.

The Sugarland Express (1974) is a different kind of suspense-driven road movie, one that is more like an O.J. highway chase, i.e., a slow-burn police convoy that may self-destruct at any moment. The film, based on a true story, opens with Lou Jean (Goldie Hawn) convincing her husband, Clovis (William Atherton), to break out of his (very) minimum security pre-release facility in order to “rescue” their child from a foster home in Sugarland, TX. On the road, they soon panic and kidnap a patrolman who is chasing them, steal his police car, and use him as a hostage to keep other officers at bay. Most of the film focuses on the friendship between the couple and their hostage, with a senior officer (think Harvey Keitel from Thelma and Louise) monitoring everything in the distance.

While Duel had almost no dialogue, Sugarland is all dialogue, and it’s better and more natural than most Spielberg movies. However, one of my favorite scenes has almost no dialogue, as the couple watches a Road Runner cartoon playing on a distant drive-in screen, with Clovis providing the missing sound effects. This is just one of many light touches in what is ultimately a fairly depressing story that will feel vaguely familiar to most people. So, unless you are interested in the cinematic aspects, and the cinematography by Vilmos Zsigmond is quite beautiful (we get not one, but two, sunset shots!), I might recommend skipping this one.

Train Sighting: I don’t think there is a train in this one, but I watched it before I started to notice the train thing, so there may be one in the background somewhere. They definitely cross train tracks in the initial car chase.

Quint (Robert Shaw) and Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) swap stories in Jaws.

It continues to amaze me how early Jaws (1975) comes in Spielberg’s filmography. But, having just watched Duel, one can totally see why this film appealed to Spielberg and why he would have even been allowed to execute such a potentially difficult project. And it was a challenge, especially given the inherent difficulty of shooting on the ocean and the unanticipated problems with the mechanical shark.

Is there anyone that hasn’t seen this, or doesn’t know the plot? If so, a great white shark menaces the small island community of Amity, and a police chief (Roy Scheider), a marine biologist (Richard Dreyfuss), and a gritty fisherman (Robert Shaw) set out to hunt it down. Also, why haven’t you seen this? You need to cancel your weekend plans and get your hands on a copy now.

Even though Jaws traumatized me as a kid (I snuck into a weekend showing in the student union of the prep school campus I grew up on), I have a certain fondness for it, especially after spending many vacations on Martha’s Vineyard where it was filmed. In fact, my favorite part is when Chief Brody rides what is in fact the Chappaquiddick ferry, which crosses the teeny tiny channel leading into Edgartown Harbor, but the camerawork makes it seem as if it is traveling a great distance. Because, even in Jaws, with its inherent setting limitations, most dialogue and action takes place on boats (naturally) but also on improvised rafts, ferries, or otherwise on the move.

The film contains a number of examples of interesting camerawork, including the phenomenal series of close-ups (via swipes) of Chief Brody on the beach fixated on the ocean. There’s also great dialogue, especially once the three lead actors get out onto the Orca. Besides Quint’s story about the USS Indianapolis, my favorite conversation is when he compares scars with Hooper. Apparently, one of the most famous movie lines ever, “You’re gonna need a bigger boat,” was improvised by Scheider on set.

In fact, here’s the real testament to how amazing this film is: Even with the number of times I’ve seen it, I still watched it twice just now. It’s that frakking good. But one thing I didn’t realize before this project was how rewarded this film was in its day, winning Oscars for Editing, Score, and Sound. It was also nominated for Best Picture, losing to One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Given the fact that the other nominees that year were Barry Lyndon, Dog Day Afternoon, and Nashville, I’d say that’s pretty darn good.

Train Sighting: No trains in this one, alas, but there is a great sunset shot of Quint on the bow of the boat, just before night falls and he tells his chilling story of survival at sea.

Spielberg pays homage to DeMille in Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

While perhaps less obvious than Duel or The Sugarland Express, Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) is also a road movie, of sorts. Seeing it on the heels of Jaws made me realize how important the quest narrative is to Spielberg. Quests and the hero’s journey is something I more readily associate with George Lucas, but it is very strong with this one as well. Again, transportation looms large, with the opening scenes featuring the recovery of WWII fighter planes, air traffic controllers on the job, and the model train of Roy Neary (Richard Dreyfuss).

Close Encounters is not exactly a film for children, as E.T. is, but it is the first great example of what Spielberg often does so well, tapping into the wonder and fears of childhood. It’s been a long time since I’ve watched it, but this story of the UFO encounters of one man, one woman, and one little boy has lost none of its power. In fact, I see now how influential it was on some of my favorite television shows, recalling to mind some of the best episodes of The X-Files and the entire run of The 4400. Although it lost out on most of its eight Oscar nominations* to Star Wars, released that same year, it deserved every accolade it got. In fact, I would have added acting nominations for Dreyfuss and Truffaut. In the end, it won for Vilmos Zsigmond’s incredible cinematography and for Special Achievement in Sound Effects Editing.

In addition to serving as the first true introduction of the Spielberg Face, Close Encounters also marks our introduction to Spielberg’s adorable child syndrome. Yet, adorable boy aside, one thing I loved about this film was just how normal everyone looked—it made me a little sad to think how this would be cast today. [Side note: The DVD I was watching had a “making of” special that included an interview with the grown-up Barry (Ladies, he’s still tots adorbs!).]

Train sighting(s): Our introduction to Roy Neery opens on a model train being raced around a track until it crashes. Later, when people need to be cleared from the site of Devils Tower, it is with news of a rail disaster. And trains are being used to clear people out of the area.

John Belushi is remarkably restrained as a crazy pilot in 1941.

We now arrive at the first of Spielberg’s many films about the Second World War. Yet, 1941 (1979) is very different from his later prestige projects dealing with the war—films such as Empire of the Sun (1987), Schindler’s List (1993), and Saving Private Ryan (1998). For one thing, it’s a comedy. Sort of. Apart from a few scenes, I don’t find it very funny. And, with Tim Matheson, John Belushi, and Dan Ackroyd as part of the large cast, it plays like a poor imitation of Animal House, released just one year earlier. (However, this film will go down as the one that revealed Belushi’s acting talent to me—he is brilliantly restrained as pilot “Wild” Bill Kelso.)

Which is a shame, because the premise (the paranoia that sweeps Southern California one week after Pearl Harbor) showed incredible potential for great farce. Instead, it’s an unholy mess. There are some great set pieces (the jitterbug contest, the Ferris wheel) and witty Hollywood references (the destruction of the “land” part of the Hollywood sign, the nod to It Happened One Night’s hitchhiking scene, Robert Stack parodying himself), but everything is thrown together in one big jumble with no strong central character tying it together. If you are wondering what a Spielberg film without a soul might be like, you need only check this one out.

This isn’t the state of California, this is a state of insanity.

—Robert Stack as Major General Stilwell in 1941

That said, it certainly was not as bad as I feared, and for those who love movies it is worth sitting through to catch the myriad cinematic references. My favorite was a bit of choreography that seemed to come right out of silent movies (or maybe Chitty Chitty Bang Bang), when the Japanese spies, all “descendents of Ninja assassins,” disguise themselves as Christmas trees. For Spielberg fans, there are also a number of direct references to previous Spielberg films, including a witty parody of the Jaws opening.

Train sighting: The model trains in the street riot scene.

E.T. don’t need no stinkin’ plane to get off the ground.

Before starting this project, I would have sworn that E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) came before Raiders of the Lost Ark, but shockingly it did not. However, I will be discussing all of the Indiana Jones films in my next post on Spielberg’s adventure films, so E.T. is next up here. Note: As for all Spielberg’s films except 1941, I watched the original theatrical release.

A favorite of many, E.T. never really resonated with me. I’m not sure why, but it may be my complete lack of interest in outer space and most science fiction. Yes, I realize I said above that one of my favorite shows is The X-Files, but it was always the stand-alones that I preferred in that series. True, I love to stargaze, but that’s more about myths and storytelling than dreaming of other worlds. And also why I love Star Wars, but not Star Trek, and Firefly, but not Farscape. [Cue appropriate rabid fanbase reaction.]

And while I now know that E.T. is not really about aliens, but rather loneliness and friendship, I’m not sure I could get past the alien part when younger. Now, of course, it makes me sob like a baby, in much the same way that Toy Story 2 and Toy Story 3 do. I think the film gets a little muddy once Elliott gets sick, and the purpose of the government agents could have been made clearer, but I guess that’s not really the point.

Regardless, E.T. was an unqualified success. Upon release, it surpassed Star Wars to become the highest-grossing film of all time (until Spielberg’s own Jurassic Park ten years later) and was nominated for Best Picture as well as Academy Awards in Cinematography (Allen Daviau), Directing, Editing, and Writing; it took home Oscars for Best Score (John Williams), Sound, Sound Effects, and Visual Effects.

Train sighting: A model train is running around its track when the government agents in space suits first invade Elliot’s home.

Finally, there are two more “plane” films I watched out of order for this post: Always and The Terminal. Mostly because I couldn’t see where else they might fit in the grand scheme of things.

Despite occurring in the present day, Always has a clear link to one of Spielberg’s favorite subjects, the Second World War, as it is a remake of the World War II melodrama A Guy Named Joe. The basic plot and characters are identical—a daredevil pilot (Richard Dreyfuss) dies and his ghost must mentor a young pilot who has fallen in love with his “widowed” girlfriend (Holly Hunter)—but Spielberg transposes the action from the war to modern-day Colorado and a group of aerial firefighters. The original A Guy Named Joe was a favorite of both Spielberg and Dreyfuss and they talked about it often on the set of Jaws.

In my first post on Spielberg, I listed Always (1989) as my least anticipated rewatch, even though I didn’t really remember seeing it. I now realize why. Looking up information for this post, I saw the release date—just days before my mother died of cancer. And, yes, I went and saw this movie about death and moving on in the theater. It was actually just one in a series of Hollywood attempts to mess with my mind that fall, which also saw the release of Dad and Steel Magnolias. [Side note: Huh, it looks like Ethan Hawke was in Dad. I guess I blocked out a lot from that fall.]

Even without the traumatic memory, I wouldn’t recommend this one. The dialogue is particularly bad. Aside from being Audrey Hepburn’s final film appearance (in a very small cameo), there is not much to recommend it, unless, of course, you want to channel another Holly Hunter role and have a good cry. You’ll need lots of Kleenex.

Last but not least, we have The Terminal (2004). While featuring planes galore, The Terminal is actually more about being stuck somewhere than actual travel: almost the entire film takes place in the terminal of JFK, where a traveler must take up temporary residence when his visa expires mid-flight due to a coup in his home country. The premise might seem completely unbelievable, but it is apparently based on a true story.

I have to say, I was not looking forward to this film. Mostly because I’m not a fan of either Tom Hanks or Catherine Zeta-Jones. Especially Catherine Zeta-Jones. She was actually okay here. Hanks, however, was exactly as I imagined he would be. So grating. So Forrest Gump. Now, maybe this film wouldn’t have been made without him, but I think if The Terminal had featured a no-name actor in the lead role, I would be praising it from the rooftops. I still recommend it though, especially if you don’t have Hanks issues. It’s not an amazing film cinematically, but it’s very charming and funny in its own quiet way.


*Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) was nominated for the following Academy Awards: Supporting Actress, Art Direction, Directing, Editing, Score (John Williams), Sound, and Visual Effects.

The Voice: The Art of the Steal

Tags

Awards, Reality TV, The Voice

As we check in with The Voice, we are at the end of the Knockout Round. This season, coaches came into the Battle Rounds with 12 singers each from the Blind Auditions—a welcome relief from last season’s 16, even though it still meant we had knockouts to contend with. I don’t love the concept of the Knockout Round, or at least one judged by the individual coaches; I feel like a number of potential audience favorites were eliminated here.

New to the panel of coaches this season are Shakira and Usher, who are providing a welcome breath of fresh air. I love how Shakira gets so into the performances and how constructive Usher is with his criticism. Both of them seem to have jumped right into the competitive deep end and take their mentoring roles very seriously. Blake and Adam, as always, are adorable.

Christina who?

Below are some highlights from the Battle and Knockout Rounds. Unfortunately, as happened last season, we did not see certain battles. That’s just plain annoying when there was plenty of time to show them and now those singers may have a disadvantage in the later voting rounds.

Best Battle: Judith vs. Karina on “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World” by James Brown. This battle was fantastic to watch and listen to. It was a great choice of song and a great performance from both singers. Karina was probably the least surprising steal of the Battle Rounds.

Most Surprising Battle Decision: Vedo over Jessica on “Locked Out of Heaven” by Bruno Mars. It was a good battle and both did well, but I was sure that Usher would go with Jessica.

Favorite Battle: Monique vs. Luke on “You and I” by Lady Gaga. This may have seemed like an odd pairing, but it worked incredibly well. I liked Luke’s audition, but he really shone here and I’m glad he was stolen.

You’re learning to use just the perfect amount of Tabasco not to spoil the recipe. You know what I mean? And I think that’s what us girls have to do. In music… and, with men too… if you know what I mean.

—Shakira on Monique’s performance on “You and I”

Favorite Battle (runner-up): Kris vs. C. Perkins on “It Will Rain” by Bruno Mars. I loved this battle, even though I’m not a fan of either of these guys. I want to like Kris, but I just can’t warm up to him. Also, what is it with the Bruno Mars obsession on this show? Or does he just write a ton? It seems like every other song is by Mars.

Oddest Battle Pairing: Christian vs. The Swon Brothers on “I Won’t Back Down” by Tom Petty. I’m not sure what Blake was thinking with this pairing. It seemed he really liked Christian at the auditions, but this battle was so weighted towards the Swon Brothers with the choice of Tom Petty (who they sang during their audition). Although they came off a bit better, Christian did well and I’m surprised he wasn’t stolen. His “I’m Sexy and I Know It” was one of the high points of the Blind Auditions for me.

Most Suspicious Battle Pairing: Garrett vs. J’Sun on “How You Like Me Now” by The Heavy. Why suspicious? Because I suspect Shakira (or the producers) wanted Garrett to stick around and J’Sun, whose audition we did not see, was sacrificed to make that happen. This was one of those soulless battles—the singers were perfectly competent but neither did anything for me. I’m a bit tired of the Garrett story, but I suppose I would have gone for him too; however, neither should have made it through this round. Don’t even get me started on Garrett making it through to the live performances.

Worst Butchery of a Song: Audrey (Team Usher) with “How to Love” in the Knockout Round. I don’t even know how Audrey made it through the auditions, so the fact that she made it all the way to the knockouts just shows how weak Usher’s overall team was. Seriously, the only people I even cared about were Ryan and Michelle, and we lost Ryan. I don’t mind Cáthia, but the fact that we have Josiah or Vedo instead of Ryan is just appalling.

Favorite Battle Song Choice: “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World” (Team Adam). I’ve always loved this song and it was a perfect showcase for both singers.

Favorite Knockout Song Choice: “Always on my Mind” (Judith). Although I recognized her talent, I was not a fan of Judith until she chose and delivered this song. Great idea, great performance.

Favorite Knockout Song Choice (runner-up): “Back to Black” (Josiah). God help me, I liked Josiah’s take on Winehouse. He still doesn’t belong in the live rounds, but he is the best looking guy in the competition so Usher was no fool to pit him against Jess.

Worst Battle Song Choice: “Burning Love” by Elvis Presley (Team Adam). Did Adam learn nothing from Blake’s horrific song choices of Season 1? These guys deserve better. I love Midas Whale, but I bet Patrick might have been stolen with a better song choice here.

Worst Battle Song Choice (runner-up): “Put Your Records On” by Corinne Bailey Rae (Team Blake). While not as horrific as “Hunk of Burning Love,” this was not a good battle song and didn’t showcase either Danielle or Caroline. That said, I wasn’t surprised to see either of these cute teeny boppers make it through. Caroline looks like a WB/CW star already and was sure to be stolen. Plus, she sang “Tiny Dancer” for her auditions, one of Adam’s favorite songs. I was sure he would set her up for success in the Knockout Round and he did.

Worst Knockout Song Choice: Almost anything. Seriously, most of the contestants’ choices were horrific, either because they didn’t fit the singer (“Higher Ground,” “House of the Rising Sun,” “Every Breath You Take”), or had no real melody in the first place (“The Climb,” “How to Love”), or were too obscure (“I’m With You,” “All My Life”), cheesy (“Everything I Do I Do It for You,” “I Just Died in Your Arms,” “Maybe I’m Amazed”), or just plain annoying (“Live Like You Were Dying,” “Power of Love,” “Jesus Take the Wheel”). Or sometimes all of these at once.

Most Egregious Elimination: Midas Whale (Team Adam). I loved these two. Their humor, their language skills, their Idaho-ness. Everything. I cannot believe Adam got rid of them by putting them up against Amber. While I didn’t like her song choice, theirs (“Higher Ground”) was even worse. They weren’t the best singers, but they were adorable.

Worst Styling: Judith (Team Adam). Brandon’s hat was pretty bad, but between her hair and the horrific jumpsuit, Judith in the Battle Round wins this hands down.

Most Overrated (tie): Caroline and Orlando (Team Adam). Adam seems captivated by Caroline, but she’s not the unique singer he seems to think she is. Orlando was good, but he oversang on “Ain’t No Sunshine” and I don’t really understand why Adam stole him in the first place.

—Are you telling me to shut up?
—No, not at all. Absolutely not. You’re Usher… I would never say that.

—Carson Daly pushes Usher to make a decision

Best Steal: Sasha (Team Shakira). Interestingly, Shakira is the only coach taking both her steals into the live performances. I wasn’t a big Sasha fan initially, but she won me over with her choice and performance of “At Last” in the Knockout Round.

Worst Steal: Taylor (Team Blake). Her battle with Jess on “You Know I’m No Good” by Amy Winehouse wasn’t very interesting. She seemed awkward and didn’t show much promise (not that I’m a fan of Jess—something is off with her enunciation and I’m happy she was eliminated in the Knockout Round). However, the nail in Taylor’s coffin was the choice and performance of “Russian Roulette” in the Knockout Round. I really don’t know what Blake was thinking. Also? Olympic hopeful my ass: A quick Google search turns up one non-Voice gymnastic reference from the mid-2000s.

Strongest Audition Eliminated in the Battle Rounds: The Morgan Twins

Favorite Audition Eliminated in the Battle Rounds: Christian

Strongest Contenders Eliminated in the Knockout Round: Mary (Team Shakira), Ryan (Team Usher), Savannah (Team Blake), Warren (Team Adam). Although they weren’t my favorites, I was surprised at all these eliminations. I suspect Mary turned out to be a bit of a diva, and her song choice of “Every Breath You Take” did her no favors, but the others? Especially Savannah, she was growing on me and I liked her unusual choice of “As Long As You Love Me” for the Knockout Round.

Favorites Eliminated in the Knockout Round: Luke (Team Blake) and Midas Whale (Team Adam). While neither delivered their best performance in the Knockout Round (which is a shame because I thought Luke’s arrangement of “Teenage Dream” had real potential), I thought both these acts could have been popular in the live performances.

Strongest Team: Team Adam, although I would have taken Midas Whale or Warren over Caroline.

Weakest Team: Team Usher, although I wonder if Blake’s all-country team is in danger of cannibalizing itself.

Top Four I’m Currently Rooting For: Judith (Team Adam), Karina (Team Shakira), Michelle (Team Usher), Sarah (Team Adam)

Team Adam
Amber
Caroline (Steal)
Judith
Sarah

Team Blake
Danielle
Holly
Justin
The Swon Brothers

Team Shakira
Garrett
Karina (Steal)
Kris
Sasha (Steal)

Team Usher
Cáthia (Steal)
Josiah
Michelle
Vedo

Cee Lo who?

San Francisco Ballet Blues

Tags

Ballet

Sasha DeSola in Ibsen’s House. Photo by Erik Tomasson.

I bought tickets to Program 6 of the San Francisco Ballet for two reasons: one, because I’m a huge fan of story ballet and so wanted to see at least part of Raymonda, and two, because the program originally included a new work by Yuri Possokhov. However, between buying my subscription and finally receiving the tickets, this got changed around and Possokhov’s interpretation of Igor Stravinsky’s Le Sacre du printemps became part of Program 3. No real apologies were made for this change, which is yet another reason for me not to fully embrace this company’s subscription policies and practices. Don’t even get me started on their limited subscription options.

Of course, they are repeating the Stravinsky next year, along with Firebird, so I could try to see it then. However, I’m not sure I’ll be subscribing as there are only two full-length classic ballets on the menu: Giselle, performed just two years ago, and Cinderella, a holdover from this year (which is fine, except perhaps they should have either waited until after it was performed to announce this, or not have said “back by popular demand”).

I know doing the classics is expensive, and there aren’t that many full-length story ballets in the repertoire to begin with, but, is this it? Looking at the last ten seasons, Giselle, Romeo and Juliet, and Swan Lake represent almost half of the 22 ballets programmed. Besides those three, and the annual warhorse The Nutcracker each December, they have had repeat performances of the aforementioned Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, and Onegin. Don Quixote has also shown up twice. Coppélia and The Sleeping Beauty, both favorites of mine, have only appeared once, which is perhaps the most surprising of all. They did feature Sylvia back in 2006, so I’m hoping to have a chance one day to see the likes of Le Corsaire or La Fille mal gardée. However, the fact that they are presenting only Act II of La Bayadère next year does not bode well, especially after experiencing a partial Raymonda this weekend.

Nureyev’s Raymonda Act III. Photo by Erik Tomasson.

Raymonda, composed by Alexander Glazunov and originally choreographed by Marius Petipa, is a three-act ballet set in medieval Hungary. You can see the Kirov’s full version starting here, but it is often performed only partially, usually with Act III, which tells the tale of the nuptials of Raymonda and Jean de Brienne. Nureyev created the one-act version performed this weekend for the Royal Opera House in London in 1966. This act includes the most celebrated passage of the ballet, the Pas classique hongrois.

While this work is clearly technically challenging, it is often rather inelegant. La Belle Chantal felt many of the group dances could have been in Oklahoma, proclaiming them hoedown-y. She’s not wrong. Furthermore, while unusual and interesting, the folkloric elements seemed mismatched with the beautiful, lush set and costumes, creating an enormous disconnect for me. And, of course, jumping into the third act like this, there is no story to grasp onto.

And therein lies the problem with presenting partial ballets. I think I would have appreciated this ballet far more if I had been able to experience the full progression of the story, music, and choreography. Instead, it just didn’t have the impact I had hoped. Which is a shame because the technique on display was magnificent. Especially the pointe work—my god, the pointe work. Courtney Elizabeth stood out among the soloists, and both Frances Chung as Raymonda and Taras Domitro as Jean de Brienne were fantastic, particularly in their own challenging solos.

Lorena Feijóo and Vitor Luiz in Ibsen’s House. Photo by Erik Tomasson.

The next piece on the program was Ibsen’s House, first created by Val Caniparoli for the New Works Festival in 2008. Although the concept sounded interesting, this work was the replacement piece for the new Possokhov, so I was a little wary. Naturally, I loved it. Even the woman in the row in front of me hacking up a lung through much of the second half (thankfully she did not return after intermission) couldn’t ruin this.

Ibsen’s House highlights five female characters out of the works of Henrik Ibsen, notably the eponymous Hedda Gabler and Nora from A Doll’s House, and showcases what I feel is the strength of this company—the depth in the field of female principals and soloists. Even corps member Charlene Cohen performed admirably as Mrs. Alving in the introduction to the Ghosts section, which had particularly unusual and interesting movements. Lorena Feijóo, a new-to-me principal who recently returned from maternity leave, was a revelation as Hedda Gabler.

The stark set, which consisted primarily of a huge full-length window upstage (house left), highlighted the modernist, Scandinavian-ness of Ibsen’s plays. I thought this window, which was covered by a sheer curtain, was used effectively as dancers occasionally appeared behind it in the background, emphasizing the frustration and distance expressed by the couples downstage. Finally, the music was gorgeous—three movements from Antonín Dvořák’s Piano Quintet No. 2 in A major. I must get a recording of this soon.

Courtney Elizabeth in Ibsen’s House. Photo by Erik Tomasson.

The last section of the program, Edwaard Liang’s Symphonic Dances, was a repeat from last season, although I hadn’t seen it before personally. For all that Ibsen’s House made me willing and eager to see more mixed programs, this piece reminded me why I usually don’t enjoy them. Even with both Yuan Yuan Tan and Maria Kochetkova as featured dancers, I just couldn’t get into this one. Partly it was the music (Rachmaninov), but mostly it was because it just didn’t go anywhere, and yet took far too long to do it.

So this mixed bill had very mixed results. Here’s hoping Cinderella lives up to the hype and the promise of Prokofiev’s score.

Film 101—Steven Spielberg

Tags

Hitchcock, Spielberg

Now that I’ve gotten screwball comedies out of my system, I can get back to my original post-Oscar plan of reviewing the work of Steven Spielberg. Why have I chosen Spielberg? Well, after I saw Lincoln as part of my Oscar Blitz, it seemed I had a very different opinion of the film than most people I talked to. Frankly, I found it rather boring, as well as typical, sentimental Spielberg.

I realized that it had been a long time since I had been excited about a Spielberg movie, although I have fond memories of much of his early work. So I thought it might be interesting to look back at his entire filmography to see how it has held up for me over the years and whether I might reassess something like Lincoln in light of Spielberg’s overall trajectory.

In another sense, Spielberg is a perfect follow-up to my Hitchcock series. Not only was Hitchcock a direct influence on Spielberg, but they are among the handful of filmmakers who successfully straddle the art/industry divide, being both highly respected craftsmen and popular “brand name” directors.

Regular readers will not be surprised to learn I would prefer to watch these films chronologically (logical is right there in the word, people!), but I think I want to group them by theme for discussion, so I’m not sure what my schedule will be for individual posts. However, I am planning to begin posting by the end of April and wrap up the entire series by the end of May. Luckily, since I’m not being distracted by either Mad Men or Games of Thrones, this should be entirely possible.

As a starting point for this series, below are some assessments I would make today based on what I remember of the films I have seen. I will revisit these categories (and more) at the end of the series to see how these picks and assessments hold up under a condensed viewing schedule.

Note: Apart from Jaws, which I have seen repeatedly due to its filming location on Martha’s Vineyard, and some of the early adventure films, I have generally seen these films only once, usually when they were out in theaters. Therefore, there are a few I don’t remember very well at all, including Empire of the Sun, Always, The Lost World: Jurassic Park, Amistad, and Minority Report, and a couple where I’m not even sure if I’ve seen the entire film, namely, 1941 and A.I. Artificial Intelligence. The ones I’m sure I haven’t seen are The Sugarland Express, The Color Purple, Hook, The Terminal, War of the Worlds, The Adventures of Tintin, and War Horse.

Desert Island Film: Raiders of the Lost Ark. I might have been tempted by Jaws, but I doubt that would be very good fare when one is stuck on an island.

Most Anticipated Rewatch: Catch Me If You Can. I remember being pleasantly surprised by this one and would love to see if it holds up. Munich was a close second here, but its length prevented it from taking the top spot.

Least Anticipated Rewatch: Always. I saw this in the theater and remember it as a total tearjerker—Steven Spielberg at his sentimental worst.

Most Anticipated New-to-Me Film: The Adventures of Tintin. I loved Tintin and Milou growing up, which is why I didn’t see this film when it came out as I thought it looked awful. The words “bastardization of my childhood” may have been uttered. However, I have since heard good things and am intrigued.

Least Anticipated New-to-Me Film: Hook. I am dreading this one. I had no desire to see it when it came out, and the Watching the Directors podcast tore it to shreds when they covered Spielberg.

Best Lead Actor/Actress: Daniel Day-Lewis, Lincoln. This is one that may change upon reviewing everything. It’s a great performance, but a lot of it for me was that he looked like Lincoln, so I’m not sure it will hold up to other heavyweight performances that aren’t complete Oscar bait.

Worst Lead Actor/Actress: Kate Capshaw, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. I’m pretty sure this one will hold up, although someone in Hook may give her a run for the money.

Best Stunt Casting: While most people would probably say Sean Connery in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, for me it has to be François Truffaut in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I still can’t believe he agreed to do the role, but he’s perfect.

Favorite Character: Quint in Jaws. The speech (you know the one) still gives me chills every time. Yes, I’m also a fan of Moby-Dick, why do you ask?

Best Line: “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.” There may be better lines I’m not remembering, but you can never go wrong with a classic.

Best Opening: Raiders of the Lost Ark. I remember absolutely adoring this when I first saw it and still love watching it every time I revisit this movie—I think it’s my love of puzzles and capers.

Worst Ending: Munich. This was a tough call since Spielberg has a big problem with endings as a rule. As I said during my Oscar blitz, Lincoln would have been infinitely improved by chopping off the last 20 minutes or so, but I went with Munich here since I really would love to forget I ever saw that sex scene.

Best Cinematography: Schindler’s List. I can’t imagine anything will dethrone this one, even if the girl in the red coat is completely unoriginal.

Best Editing: Duel. I can’t remember when I first saw it, but I have a vivid recollection of being amazed at the suspense of this film, given that it is about a battle between a truck and a car.

Best Score: Raiders of the Lost Ark. This was a tough one. Obviously, the musical motifs for both Jaws and Close Encounters of the Third Kind resonate strongly in the mind, and then there is the beautiful violin theme from Schindler’s List, but I think the overall score for Raiders is probably better.

Best Special Effects: Jurassic Park. Dinosaurs! What more needs to be said?

Best Script: E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. This is another one that’s a tough call. I don’t have the fondness for E.T. that many people have, but I do remember a pretty tight structure and good dialogue.

Most Underrated Film: Empire of the Sun. I’m not even sure this was on my radar as a Spielberg film when I saw it, or that many people think of it when they think of Spielberg, but I suspect I may conclude it is one of his best “serious” efforts.

Most Overrated Film: Saving Private Ryan. Beyond the incredible opening, I don’t get the love for this film. While no fan of Shakespeare in Love, I have no problem with its “shocking” win at the Oscars that year.

Worst Film: 1941. I know I’ve seen bits of this one, but I suspect I may have turned it off without watching the whole thing. I just remember it being not at all what I expected.

What about you? Are you a fan of Spielberg? Which film is your favorite? Which do you feel misses the mark?

Film 101—Screwball Wrap Party

Tags

Awards, Screwball Comedy

40+ screwballs later… some final thoughts and recommendations:

Top Ten Essential Screwballs
It Happened One Night (1934)
My Man Godfrey (1936)
The Awful Truth (1937)
Bringing Up Baby (1938)
You Can’t Take It with You (1938)
His Girl Friday (1940)
The Philadelphia Story (1940)
The Lady Eve (1941)
Ball of Fire (1941)
The Palm Beach Story (1942)

If you have read this complete series, you know that this is not my personal top ten, but rather a list to provide someone new to screwball comedies a good sampling of the best actors, stories, and styles to be found in the genre. In addition, these should be readily available at your library or via Netflix.

Carole Lombard and William Powell do the dishes in My Man Godfrey.

If you have seen and enjoyed many of the works above and want to take it to the next level, you should seek out these lesser-known films, most of which could easily be on anyone’s personal top ten list:

Six Screwballs to Seek Out
Libeled Lady (1936)
Easy Living (1937)
Midnight (1939)
My Favorite Wife (1940)
Love Crazy (1941)
The More the Merrier (1943)

I would also highly recommend the following films even though they do not have a purely screwball pedigree:

Six Screwball-Adjacent Masterpieces
Trouble in Paradise (1932)
Design for Living (1933)
The Thin Man (1934)
Sullivan’s Travels (1941)
To Be or Not to Be (1942)
Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

Cary Grant tries to quietly marry Priscilla Lane in Arsenic and Old Lace.

And now the awards!

Most Overrated Film: Bringing Up Baby

Most Underrated Film: Easy Living

Favorite Discovery: Ball of Fire

Slight rosiness?!? It’s as red as The Daily Worker and just as sore!

—Sugarpuss O’Shea on the state of her throat in Ball of Fire

The Time-I-Can’t-Get-Back Award: I Met Him in Paris

Favorite Plots: Easy Living, If You Could Only Cook, The More the Merrier

Most Convoluted Plot: Theodora Goes Wild

Best Dialogue: His Girl Friday

Most Screwy: Bringing Up Baby

Most Romantic: It Happened One Night

Favorite Underrated Director: Mitchell Leisen (Easy Living, Midnight). Now I wish I had managed to see Hands Across the Table with Carole Lombard.

Ray Milland sneaks food to Jean Arthur in Easy Living.

Cary Grant Films: 7 (Favorite Character: C.K. Dexter Haven in The Philadelphia Story; Best Performance: Arsenic and Old Lace)

William Powell Films: 6 (Favorite Character: Godfrey in My Man Godfrey; Best Performance: Love Crazy)

Jean Arthur Films: 6 (Favorite Character: Babe Bennett in Mr. Deeds Goes to Town; Best Performance: The More the Merrier)

Carole Lombard Films: 5 (Favorite Character: Maria Tura in To Be or Not to Be; Best Performance: My Man Godfrey)

Myrna Loy Films: 5 (Favorite Character: Nora Charles in The Thin Man; Best Performance: The Thin Man)

Claudette Colbert Films: 5 (Favorite Character: Nicole de Loiselle in Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife; Best Performance: It Happened One Night)

Best Overall Performance: William Powell (who transitions from loving husband, to acting crazy and “setting the hats free” at a society party, to going drag as his own sister) in Love Crazy

Favorite Supporting Actor: William Demarest (Easy Living, The Lady Eve, Sullivan’s Travels, The Palm Beach Story, The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek)

Favorite Supporting Actress: Spring Byington (Theodora Goes Wild, You Can’t Take It with You, Rings on Her Fingers)

Best Ensemble: The Bullock Family in My Man Godfrey

All you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people.

—Alexander Bullock in My Man Godfrey

Favorite Ensemble: The seven dwarfs professors in Ball of Fire

Favorite Mobster: Leo Carrillo as bootlegger (and gourmet) Mike Rossini in If You Could Only Cook

Favorite Cameo: Carl Switzer (aka “Alfalfa” from The Little Rascals) as a boy scout in I Love You Again

The Mulder & Scully Sexual Tension Award (tie): The whistle-off/sing-off between Melvyn Douglas and Irene Dunne in Theodora Goes Wild; the “whippoorwill” scene in It Happened One Night

—By the way, what’s your name?
—What’s that?
—Who are you?
—Who me?… I’m the whippoorwill that cries in the night. I’m the soft morning breeze that caresses your lovely face.
—You’ve got a name, haven’t you?
—Yeah, I got a name. Peter Warne.
—Peter Warne. I don’t like it.
—Don’t let it bother you. You’re giving it back to me in the morning.

—Ellie Andrews and Peter Warne in It Happened One Night

Least Appealing Love Interests: Gene Anders (Robert Young) and George Potter (Melvyn Douglas) in I Met Him in Paris

Least Favorite Heroine: Susan Vance (Katharine Hepburn) in Bringing Up Baby

Least Favorite Hero: Warren Haggerty (Spencer Tracy) in Libeled Lady

Strongest Female Character: Joan Hawthorne (Jean Arthur) in If You Could Only Cook

Biggest Sap (tie): Charles Pike (Henry Fonda) in The Lady Eve; John Wheeler (Henry Fonda) in Rings on Her Fingers

Favorite Cynical Brunette: Emmy Kockenlocker (Diana Lynn) in The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek

Favorite Dr. Eggelhoffer (tie): Dr. Emil Eggelhoffer from Nothing Sacred; Dr. Max J. Eggelhoffer from His Girl Friday. Cliché much? I sincerely hope this is some Hollywood hat tip I’m not aware of. I was half expecting the team of doctors in Love Crazy to all be named Eggelhoffer (although I would have also been happy with Dr. Emil Schaffhausen).

Most Catty: Miss Bragg (Kathleen Howard) in Ball of Fire

If I were the cream for that woman’s coffee, I’d curdle.

—Miss Bragg about Sugarpuss O’Shea in Ball of Fire

Favorite Scene: John Barrymore on the telephone in Midnight

Best Title Sequence: The mock silent film, freeze-frame set-up to The Palm Beach Story

Best Title Sequence (runner-up): The flipping newspaper pages in The Front Page

Most Cinematic Opening: The zoom and pan opening of Trouble in Paradise, going from the garbage collector and his gondola, to a darkened hotel room and the after effects of a robbery, to two Italian women buzzing at the room’s door, then finally panning along the outside of the hotel room windows to settle on Gaston (the “baron”) on the balcony of his room with a waiter

—What shall we start with Baron?
—Hmm? Oh, yes… That’s not so easy. Beginnings are always difficult.

—The hotel waiter to “the baron” in Trouble in Paradise

Best Visual Cue: The clocks signaling the passage of time in Trouble in Paradise

Best Wardrobe (tie): Kay Francis as Mariette Colet in Trouble in Paradise, designed by Travis Banton; Gene Tierney as Linda Worthington in Rings on Her Fingers, designed by Gwen Wakeling

Favorite Wedding Gown: Miriam Hopkins in Design for Living

Best Hair: Veronica Lake in Sullivan’s Travels

Best in Slapstick: William Powell “fishing” in Libeled Lady

Best in Meet-Cute: Gary Cooper and Claudette Colbert each buying one half of a pair of pajamas in Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife

Best Use of a Musical Cue: “My Man” in Too Many Husbands

Favorite Performance of a Song: The professors singing “Sweet Genevieve” in Ball of Fire

Best in Lip Sync: Betty Hutton showing off for the soldiers with “The Bell in the Bay” in The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek

Worst in Lip Sync: Barbara Stanwyck as Sugarpuss O’Shea performing “Drum Boogie” in Ball of Fire

Most Overused Song: “Ochi chernye” (“Dark Eyes”). In addition to being the often-interrupted Russian song of Mrs. Bullock’s protégé, played by Mischa Auer, in My Man Godfrey, I noticed it in the background of the restaurant scene in You Can’t Take It With You, which also features Mischa Auer as a ballet teacher. Finally, it plays a key role in The Shop Around the Corner, as the music box theme.

Most Overused Dog: Skippy the Dog (aka Asta). In addition to a starring role in the Thin Man movies, Skippy plays a not-insignificant role as Mr. Smith, the object of a custody dispute in The Awful Truth, as well as George, the dog who hides the dinosaur bone in Bringing Up Baby.

Favorite Performance by a Goat: My Man Godfrey

Best Use of a Santa Suit: Cary Grant in My Favorite Wife

Favorite Euphemism: The typewriter being kept “in working order” in Design for Living

—You didn’t keep it oiled.
—I did for a while.
—The keys are rusty. The shift is broken.
Gilda slides the carriage, causing the typewriter to ding. They look at each other with surprise.
—But it still rings! It still rings.
—Does it?

—Tommy wondering about the state of his old typewriter in Design for Living

Favorite Final Shot: The crossing skis in Mr. and Mrs. Smith

And they all lived happily after…

For previous posts in the Screwball series, click below:
March Madcapness: Introduction to Screwballs
Early Screwballs and The Lubitsch Touch
1930s Screwball Classics and Forgotten Films
1940s Screwballs: Comedies of Remarriage
1940s Screwballs: The Rise of Preston Sturges

Film 101—1940s Screwballs: The Rise of Preston Sturges

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Screwball Comedy

For those needing to go to a happy movie place today…

If I were asked to name the single scene in all of romantic comedy that was sexiest and funniest at the same time, I would advise beginning at six seconds past the 20-minute mark in Preston Sturges’ The Lady Eve, and watching as Barbara Stanwyck toys with Henry Fonda’s hair in an unbroken shot that lasts three minutes and 51 seconds.

—Roger Ebert (1942-2013), November 23, 1997

Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck flirt in The Lady Eve.

For this final chapter in the tale of screwball comedies, we are well into what I like to think of as the Preston Sturges years. While some directors we reviewed earlier will continue to direct comedies in this era, such as Howard Hawks with Ball of Fire in 1941, Ernst Lubitsch with To Be or Not to Be in 1942, and Frank Capra with Arsenic and Old Lace in 1944, Sturges dominates the first part of this decade, just as screwballs are mostly fading away with the onset of World War II.

One reason for this dominance is that Sturges was remarkably prolific in the early part of the decade, writing and directing eight films in the years from 1940 to 1944. Perhaps he was making up for lost time—he only began directing at age 42, after arriving in Hollywood in his mid-30s as a writer. Lest you think he was simply a clever wordsmith (although he certainly was that), his films are full of physical comedy, with a strong visual style, featuring extended takes and a carefully constructed mise-en-scène. His unique vision is evident from the first seconds, as even his opening credits are usually quite innovative.

As with Lubitsch and Capra, his screwballs don’t always strictly follow the conventions of the genre, but they are definitely screwball in spirit, with an unusual mix of fairytale and frankness. He consistently plays with audience expectations and the Production Code, particularly regarding sex. He also was extremely loyal, building true ensemble pieces with a core group of character actors who he used from film to film (my favorite is William Demarest, perhaps best known as Uncle Charley from My Three Sons).

The first film I looked at, Christmas in July (1940), is a brief (only 67 minutes!) fairytale about a young man, Jimmy (Dick Powell), who enters a slogan contest with a first prize of $25,000, or about $400,000 today. In a strange twist, after some of his co-workers trick him into thinking he has won, he ends up being promoted at work and goes on a shopping spree with the money he doesn’t know he hasn’t won. This fairytale is also a cautionary tale with conflicting messages about hope and the work world woven throughout. Whether it’s intentional or merely a modern-day reading of some of these themes, we will see this sugarcoating of a darker underbelly in most Sturges films.

Whose conning who? Charles Coburn, Barbara Stanwyck, and Henry Fonda play cards in The Lady Eve.

It is certainly found in The Lady Eve (1941), perhaps his most overtly cynical film. The story of a wealthy heir and Amazonian snake expert (Henry Fonda) who becomes involved with a con artist (Barbara Stanwyck), this one takes many twists and turns that don’t always make a lot of sense, but it has a number of fine qualities, including some great physical comedy from Fonda. Personally, I’ve never really warmed to this film; as with Bringing Up Baby, I find the heroine too willfully cruel to be sympathetic, and the hero too unbelievably naïve (read: stupid) to live. At least in His Girl Friday, Cary Grant, who plays a creepily manipulative man, is fairly well matched in Rosalind Russell’s Hildy.

The cutest pair of hobos you ever did see, in Sullivan’s Travels.

On the other hand, Sullivan’s Travels (1941) has always been one of my favorite films, mostly due to having had a wicked crush on Veronica Lake ever since seeing René Clair’s I Married a Witch. This is not really a screwball comedy in the traditional sense, it’s more like a funny road movie, “with a little sex in it.” I include it here because it is one of the best movies about movies ever and everyone should see it.

—I want this picture to be a commentary on modern conditions. Stark realism. The problems that confront the average man!
—But with a little sex in it.
—A little, but I don’t want to stress it. I want this picture to be a document. I want to hold a mirror up to life. I want this to be a picture of dignity! A true canvas of the suffering of humanity!
—But with a little sex in it.
—[Reluctantly] With a little sex in it.

—Sullivan discussing his pet project with studio execs in Sullivan’s Travels

Sullivan’s Travels is a great send-up of and love letter to the movie industry, as popular comedy director John L. Sullivan (Joel McCrea) decides he wants to make a “serious” picture entitled O Brother Where Art Thou? and sets out penniless to discover how the other half lives. As in Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift, he sets out four times, first walking, then driving, then by train, only to end up back in Hollywood each time. Along the way he meets The Girl (Veronica Lake), who becomes his travel companion.

—How does the girl fit in this picture?
—There’s always a girl in the picture. Haven’t you ever been to the movies?

—A confused policeman to wayward director Sullivan in Sullivan’s Travels

When Sullivan actually does reach rock bottom, sentenced to six years hard labor on a chain gang, he realizes just how important comedies are when you have nothing else left.

I believe that if, at the end, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do.

—Roger Ebert (1942-2013), Life Itself: A Memoir

Also featuring Joel McCrea, this time with Claudette Colbert, The Palm Beach Story (1942) is another longtime favorite, although I don’t think that as a film it’s as good as The Lady Eve, Sullivan’s Travels, or The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek. But it is a classic screwball in every sense. This fast-paced picture, with the craziest of plots, from its opening freeze-frame credits to the final incredible twist, is yet another comedy of remarriage, when Colbert’s Gerry decides to take the train to Palm Beach in order to get a quickie divorce from Tom, for no real reason other than the fact they are broke. (Gerry plans to marry someone rich who will invest in Tom’s engineering project.) After experiencing the “hospitality” of the Ale and Quail club car, she sneaks off and meets eccentric millionaire John D. Hackensacker III, played by Rudy Vallée. In the meantime, Tom has followed Gerry to Palm Beach by air, where he gets introduced to Hackensacker and his sister as Gerry’s brother. Hijinks ensue.

The Ale and Quail hunting club serenade Claudette Colbert in The Palm Beach Story.

The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek (1944) opens in a similar way to The Palm Beach Story, with two newspapermen rushing to make a frantic phone call to the governor. The audience doesn’t learn what this phone call is about at first, but it serves to introduce the story via flashback. Incredibly, the plot of this film revolves around Betty Hutton (Trudy Kockenlocker!!!) getting drunk at a farewell party, marrying a soldier, getting pregnant, and not remembering any details or having any proof of it the next morning. Luckily, since this is still Hollywood in the 40s, childhood friend Eddie Bracken, who has been in love with her forever, comes to the rescue and she falls in love with him for his good heart. What is not to love about that?

Although a policeman, William Demarest has a hard time controlling his daughters in The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek.

I didn’t know this film at all before this project. It turned out to be a fascinating way to close out my review of Sturges’ work because it really represents the culmination of the director’s efforts to this point: sex as a driving force in the narrative, his overt playing to the letter of the Code instead of its spirit, his stock cast of character actors (with the opening phone call including a nod to his first film The Great McGinty), the emphasis on physical comedy and pratfalls, the weakness or naïveté of the male hero, the bitter or sarcastic female (found here in the younger sister, played by Diana Lynn), and incredible overlapping, sometimes nonsensical, dialogue.

—Listen, Zipper-puss! Some day they’re just gonna find your hair ribbon and an axe someplace. Nothing else! The Mystery of Morgan’s Creek!
—Papa, that’s really not being very helpful.
—Well, what do you want me to do, learn to knit?

—William Demarest with his daughters in The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek

The Best of the Rest

The Doctor Takes a Wife (1940), directed by Alexander Hall, didn’t have the class element of most screwballs, but I found it very endearing, and perhaps most like a Regency romance with its marriage of convenience plot. Last seen way back in Platinum Blonde, here, Loretta Young plays an independent feminist author who has just written a best-seller on the joys of the spinster life. Needing to get to New York in a hurry, she catches a ride with medical school instructor Ray Milland and a series of incidents leads the press to report they are married. For separate reasons, both decide it’s better to go along with the charade than to come clean. This one has some great one-liners.

—Wait a minute, that man in there really isn’t my husband. He’s a… a prowler.
—Lady, I don’t care what your husband does for a living.

—Loretta Young to a reporter in The Doctor Takes a Wife

I was really looking forward to Ball of Fire (1941), directed by Howard Hawks. With a script by Billy Wilder, Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck as leads, a supporting cast that includes Dana Andrews (a favorite from Laura), and a plot revolving around a bunch of professors living together and writing an encyclopedia, how could I not love this? And, while you may think I am setting it up for a fall, I am not. I loved it.

The professors find a showgirl in their midst in Ball of Fire.

It gets off to a slow start, but it sneaks up on you, especially the seven professors who are modeled on Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and include such friendly faces as Carl the head waiter and Sascha the bartender from Casablanca, Uncle Max from The Sound of Music, and Clarence from It’s a Wonderful Life. I particularly loved the scene with Cooper trying to understand the garbageman’s slang.

Rings on Her Fingers (1942), directed by Rouben Mamoulian, is an odd little film. It has just a tinge of noir in it, which prevents it from being a complete screwball. Right on the heels of playing the naïve heir in The Lady Eve, here we find Henry Fonda playing an even bigger sap. After being mistaken for a millionaire, he is swindled out of his life savings by a team of con men, including a new-to-the-game Gene Tierney. She only learns that he is a simple clerk when they meet again at the home of the team’s next mark. If you like pretty, pretty dresses, this is the one to watch.

The More the Merrier (1943), directed by George Stevens, is a great showcase for Charles Coburn, who pops up as a character actor in quite a few of these pictures, but moves to the forefront of this tale involving the housing shortage in wartime Washington, D.C., winning an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor in the process. Coburn plays a retired millionaire who connives to get leads Jean Arthur and Joel McCrea together by subletting McCrea half of his sublet. The elaborate dance that is three people getting ready in the morning in one small apartment sets the stage for decades of romantic comedies to come.

Finally, we come to Arsenic and Old Lace (1944), directed by Frank Capra. This film is in a category all its own—the Halloween screwball. If you haven’t seen this, you need to. The flip side of Loretta Young in The Doctor takes a Wife, Cary Grant plays a famous author of several anti-marriage books who secretly marries his aunts’ next-door neighbor (Priscilla Lane) on Halloween. While visiting them to relate the news, he finds a corpse hidden by his “adorable” elderly aunts, commits his brother Teddy to a mental institution (he thinks he is Teddy Roosevelt), and deals with the return of his evil cousin, Jonathan, whose plastic surgeon (Peter Lorre) has made him look like Boris Karloff.

—Aunt Abby, how can I believe you? There are twelve men down in the cellar and you admit you poisoned them.
—Yes, I did. But you don’t think I’d stoop to telling a fib?

—Mortimer Brewster to his Aunt Abigail in Arsenic and Old Lace

I hope you have enjoyed this review of screwball comedies and that you are able to check out some of these great films for yourself if you haven’t already. Look here this weekend for the final screwball round-up and awards ceremony.

Screwball Filmography: Part IV
The Doctor Takes a Wife (1940)
Christmas in July (1940)
The Lady Eve (1941)
Ball of Fire (1941)
Sullivan’s Travels (1941)
Rings on Her Fingers (1942)
The Palm Beach Story (1942)
The More the Merrier (1943)
The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek (1944)
Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

For previous posts in this Screwball 101 series, click below:
March Madcapness: Introduction to Screwballs
Early Screwballs and The Lubitsch Touch
1930s Screwball Classics and Forgotten Films
1940s Screwballs: Comedies of Remarriage