Dave’s Film Festival, entry #2: “The Asphalt Jungle”

The next entry in Dave’s Film Festival is director John Huston’s 1950 film The Asphalt Jungle, considered a classic of the film noir genre, which Huston had already helped pioneer in one of his previous films, The Maltese Falcon.

The film’s plot is a story of a bank heist that goes wrong and continues to turn sour well after the job is done. Upon his release from prison, a veteran criminal, Doc, assembles a group of small-time crooks to pull off the heist. They include a vault specialist, a heavy (Sterling Hayden of Dr. Strangelove), and a driver. After problems arise during the heist itself, more trouble comes from Doc’s financiers and from a police force trying to overcompensate for its stigma of corruption and ineptitude.

Some points of the movie didn’t come across too well. Certain production aspects weren’t believable, even for a 1950s film. For instance, the driver, who is shown in several scenes, is meant to be a hunchback. But the only scene in which this was physically apparent was the scene, a good two-thirds into the movie, in which another character refers to him as a hunchback. In every other scene — even after the fact is mentioned — I did not notice he was a hunchback. Also, the plot seems to unravel pretty steadily at the film’s end; the final few scenes with Hayden’s character, in particular, seemed unnecessary. [Please keep in mind that, at this point, all the films in Dave's Film Festival are films that I've never seen before. Were I to watch them again, I might notice new layers or plot points that would alter my opinion of the whole. But at this point, this is a first-impression affair.]

All in all, I enjoyed The Asphalt Jungle well enough, though I think Marsha fell asleep toward the end. I can certainly see how the film has influenced a great number of noir pictures that have come after it, particularly bank heist movies. But if you’re wanting to see just one classic noir film, I’d go with The Maltese Falcon.

Talkin’ ’bout “The Dark Knight”, “I’m Not There”

Somehow, yesterday (I don’t remember how it got started), I found myself searching for all things related to The Dark Knight, the next installation of filmmaker Christopher Nolan’s take on the Batman series, due out next summer. For those of you who don’t think Nolan’s first effort, 2005’s Batman Begins, is by far the greatest Batman film yet, well, you’re just wrong. In fact, as a guy who doesn’t usually go nuts over superhero movies (but who is a Batman fan), I can honestly say that it’s one of my favorite movies period.

Anyway, I’m particularly interested in what will be the outcome of actor Heath Ledger’s portrayal of über-villain the Joker in Knight. Clearly, the guy doesn’t like to be typecast, seeing as how he’s portrayed everything from a heartthrob, to a skate bum mentor, to a drug addict. And there was that western he did, and his turn as Casanova immediately following in a thinly veiled attempt to let people know that he still likes girls. But forgetting all that, if you’ve seen the still frame of him as the Joker, or read some of the comments he’s made about the role, you’d agree that we have reason to expect good things.

I’m also eager to see his performance in the new Bob Dylan pseudo-biopic I’m Not There, in which he portrays an avatar of Dylan’s late-1960s, early ’70s period, during which Dylan was in extreme demand, yet became somewhat isolated from both the rest of the world and his earlier role as a voice of the ’60s. In the film, Ledger plays one of at least six different versions of the Dylan mystique. [Batman himself, or at least the actor Christian Bale who portrays him in both Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, also plays one of the Dylans in I'm Not There. Crazy.]

To sum up, here’s a good New York Times article on Ledger as an actor.

Dave’s Film Festival, entry #1: “Serpico”

The first screened entry in Dave’s Film Festival is Sidney Lumet’s Serpico, released in 1973. The film stars Al Pacino in the title role of Frank Serpico, a real-life New York City police officer who helped expose a ring of corruption within the NYC law enforcement system in the late 1960s and early ’70s.

I was interested in viewing the film after seeing it referenced in the Wes Anderson film Rushmore, in which the main character puts on a stage adaptation of the film at his high school. And when watching Serpico, one can easily see many of the stylistic touches that Anderson employs in his films: distinct coloring, unique wardrobe choices, and conspicuously straight-ahead camera angles at certain key moments (such as one of the final scenes in which Serpico testifies before the Knapp Commission).

Like many Seventies movies, Serpico takes a harsh view of the world. The title character eagerly joins the police force as a young man, but soon finds that some cops play fast-and-loose with the rules in their attempts to deal with criminals. But what really gets to him are the constant payoffs that other cops take from bookies and other lowlifes. Over time, as Serpico continually refuses his share of the money, other cops become distrusting of him, and he bounces around from precinct to precinct, ostracized at nearly every turn and receiving little to no help from his superiors.

The film focuses intently on what sets Serpico apart from the other cops. The first major difference is his appearance; Serpico dresses like a hippie, so he’s more effective at fitting in for plain-clothes duty than his fellow officers. The second is his unwillingness to take payoffs, and the majority of the film’s plot documents the frustrations this causes in both his professional and personal life.

Pacino is very good in this film, in which his intensity dominates nearly every scene. His character is of either Italian or Greek heritage (I couldn’t tell for sure), and the family scenes are underscored with Mediterranean music, just like the Godfather pictures. Perhaps we’re supposed to see what could happen if Michael Corleone happened to be a NYC cop instead of a criminal.

All said, I enjoyed the film immensely. Its Seventies style was engrossing, though not overpowering (unlike many films from that decade), and actually added to its appeal, similar to some of Woody Allen’s Seventies movies. And though I had an idea about how the plot would end, I didn’t know for sure, and so I had extra reason to stick around. Recommended.

Dave’s Film Festival

With all these folks signing up for Netflix (or the Blockbuster version thereof) so they can rent more movies for less money, I’ve decided to plot a different course toward the same end. I’ve signed up with a program that allows me to rent more movies for a lot less money: namely, the Oklahoma County public library system.

No, it’s not very sexy to check out your movies from the library, and they don’t have a lot of blockbusters (no Spider-Man 3, dang). But they do have a lot of classic titles that I’ve wanted to see for a while. And they’re free (excluding late fees, which one need only exercise a sparse bit of memory to avoid). That’s still quite a bit cheaper than even Netflix.

And who knows, every once in a while, I may find one there that came out after the beginning of the new millennium.

So, in this spirit of free films, I’m launching the first ever Dave’s Film Festival. It will likely be an ongoing, sporadic affair, consisting of me and (usually) Marsha watching selected entries whenever we have the chance. And attention all you film buffs out there: Dave’s Film Festival is open to the public. In other words, if you know where I live, you can come watch the movies with me. Would Ebert extend such an offer? I think not. [Update: Marsha says to call first.]

There’s really only two criteria if you want to enter your film into Dave’s Film Festival. First, your film has to be available for free within the Oklahoma County public library system. Second, it has to be a film that I’m interested in seeing. I understand it may be difficult to know whether your film will appeal to my delicate yet preternaturally good tastes. Perhaps the best way to gauge it is to read my reviews of other entries and use your best judgment to determine how your film stacks up against the rest.

In truth, I’ve already watched the first three entries. Two, Serpico and Dog Day Afternoon, are Sidney Lumet pictures starring Al Pacino. The third is John Huston’s The Asphalt Jungle. All three are crime dramas, yet all look at the subject from notably different angles.

Please be on the lookout for reviews of the entries in Dave’s Film Festival. Of course, I will be posting reviews of most, if not all, of the successfully screened entries right here on this blog. I look forward to your feedback.

It’s fall, and so I’m listening to Neil Young

It must be fall. Autumn. A glorious time – my favorite season of the year – when the air gets cool and the colors change. Some call it “football weather”. Whatever it is, I love it. In Oklahoma, fall doesn’t last long; in reality, it’s summer here at least eight months out of the year. But even in those few short months (or maybe weeks) when we experience fall, I feel more alive than I do the entire rest of the year.

But that’s not why I know it must be fall. I know because I find myself impulsively listening to Neil Young. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of another artist whose music screams “fall” quite like his. As I write this, I’m listening to a solo acoustic show of Young at Toronto’s Massey Hall in 1971 — one of the live archival releases from Young’s vaults that he’s started issuing in the past year. Every track gives the feeling of natural resignation, from the opener “On the Way Home” to highlights from albums like After the Gold Rush, which he’d just released, and still-in-progress numbers from the then-upcoming Harvest.

On this date, Young played acoustic guitar on most of the 17 tracks, and piano on the others. Some songs, like “Love in Mind”, “Bad Fog of Loneliness”, and the opener, I’d never heard before, and I love ‘em. The others are stripped-down arrangements of some of his classics. You’ve heard “Needle and the Damage Done” on solo acoustic, and possibly even “Cowgirl in the Sand”. But what about “Ohio”, “Helpless”, or “Down by the River”? I hadn’t, and I have to agree with an opinion I’ve heard elsewhere: only when you hear Young play his songs solo have you felt their full impact. Though this album was just released earlier this year, I’ve got to think it will become one of the definitive pieces in Young’s canon.

Young’s songs often look at the decay of things. But just like the message of one of his most autumnal tracks, “Don’t Let it Bring You Down”, after the decline, there’s hope that things will improve. Fall is a time when nature enters a period of decay, as part of the earth moves further from the sun’s warmth. Eventually we’ll get back to spring and summer. Still, with Young’s music and a brisk breeze, I could stay in autumn a while longer.

Finally saw “Darjeeling Limited” last night

So, last night Marsha and I finally saw Wes Anderson’s new film The Darjeeling Limited, of which I’ve previously blogged about quite a bit. It’s a story about three brothers — played by Owen Wilson, Adrien Brody and Jason Schwartzman – on what’s intended to be a journey of spiritual and self-discovery through India, during which the siblings at least kind of hope to reconnect with one another; they haven’t seen each other in the year since their father’s death.

The film features a lot of the same themes as Anderson’s other movies: familial distrust, parent issues, quirky behavior. And it has many of the highly unique visual settings and very particular shots you’d expect from an Anderson film. But another of the common threads that run throughout an Anderson film has been his severely deadpan style of humor; that is, until now.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some funny moments, though few (if any) laugh-out-louders. Instead, this seems to be Anderson’s first full attempt at making a movie that is not first and foremost a comedy, but rather a true look at humans for what they are. (Here’s another review toward that end, though it’s probably even more gushy than mine. To attempt some sort of “balance”, here’s a review that’s not as kind.)

Anderson has verbalized his admiration for the French New Wave filmmakers, to whom he’s been compared stylistically. A lot of those French New Wave films, to me, seem to be not so much about events, like most movies today, but rather about being. It’s a differentiation Anderson has come close to making in his previous films, but he gets closer to the mark here. Unlike most of his past films, like Rushmore or The Royal Tenenbaums, redemption for the characters in Darjeeling isn’t fully realized. They don’t totally reconnect with all the people in their lives. The mom and dad issues aren’t resolved — in fact, they’re left conspicuously hanging. And the story doesn’t come to a full conclusion. But if you’re going for that French New Wave feel, it ends how it’s probably supposed to. (I said to Marsha after we left the theater, “It was pretty existential, wasn’t it?”, not so much as a question, but just to see if she agreed. She did.) 

So, all that being said, here’s the summary: the first half is kind of funny; the second half is a thinker; I really liked it; and I look forward to seeing it again soon.

[Addendum: I'd read that some of the events in the film retain even more poignancy considering Owen Wilson's recent troubles. After seeing the movie for myself, I can say that's definitely true. Incredibly enough, this recent MySpace interview of Wilson by Anderson, his longtime friend, is just as moving, though I don't know for sure that it's meant to be.]