#88. Easy Rider (1969)

The movie "Easy Rider" ends with the image of a destroyed custom chopper off the side of the road. This is a perfect metaphor for this whole film... it is just a messy wreck.

Before I get into the bad points of this movie (and trust me there are several) I do have some good things to point out about "Easy Rider." The outdoor scenery is gorgeous, there are shots of the American southwest that we rarely get to see, as most films set there focus on the dry, barren wastelands. One shot in particular scans the horizon line of what seems like a normal midday sun, however as the camera pans to the right it is revealed that the sun has just sunk and that the brightness we have just seen is the last light left in sight. I don't know if it was done with editing or just captured naturally but it is a seamless transition of, literally, day and night.

Another commendable element of this movie is the fact that the dialogue is very realistic. Anyone who has ever hung around someone who was high has had to hear the Jack Nicholson "UFO" speech, or the drug-induced analysis that can only come from a couple people who believe that they can solve all the world's problems when they are high. Clearly Dennis Hopper either strove for authenticity while writing the script, or the script sort of wrote itself the way conversations between people who are stoned tend to do. Similarly, Hopper also does a great job of creating a first-person's perspective for the viewer. While there are a few good point-of-view shots, the true beauty lies in the ability to simulate whats going on for the viewer. The humming sound that drones on subtlely as the main characters cruise down the highway, the under-exposed film that gives off the image of a drug-induced haze and some masterful fast-cutting shots of downtown New Orleans during Mardi Gras that show just how much is going on at all sides, almost as if you are there, surrounded by all the chaos and people.

Finally, I have to address the performance by Jack Nicholson. As someone who has never seen his earlier work it was very easy for me to assume he is a one-trick pony who plays a cynical asshole all the time. However, in his role as an alcoholic ACLU lawyer, he completely establishes himself as a first-rate actor. It is actually a shame that such an incredible performance is wasted on such a slow and ultimately, focus-less movie.

About 45 minutes into it, my wife and I asked each other what the plot was and neither one of us had a great answer. Essentially, it is about two drug dealers who are trying to get to New Orleans. There is very little dialogue and even less insight as to who these people are. Being a part of the counter-culture at the time, they fit into alot of the commonly held stereotypes of hippies: the drugs, the appearance and the general attitude and vernacular. There are parts where it appears that Hippies are trying to be portrayed in a sympathetic light, but you never can tell- be it Hopper's crudeness, Peter Fonda's general shortness and aloofness or a combination of the two. They don't want us to get to know them and thus how can we feel anything for these people?

"They talk to you about individual freedom. But they see a free individual, it's gonna scare 'em" (George Hanson, "Easy Rider")

While on the subject of the character portrayals I also feel like I should mention the fact that the relationship between Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda is very ambiguous. There are talks about the two of them retiring to Florida together, they share some playful naked splashing inside a swimming hole and at one point while talking over a campfire Dennis Hopper seems like he attempts to put his arm around Peter Fonda but then thinks better of it. I won't call it out-and-out homo erotica, but I do think it is important to mention that there are several instances where the two of them meet up with some women, even do some canoodling, but it is always made clear that the two of them are leaving town together. If this was intentional and even meant to just be implied, then the goal of "Easy Rider" becomes too lofty even for 1969 Summer of Love mentality. To make bigots look at dirty hippies differently is one thing- to make them gay also would simply have been out of the question.

It may seem like a cliche, and I don't even like that I am wording it this way, but I do think this movie taught me a little bit about myself and my own prejudices. I never had any idea that bikers were anything other than rednecks. Needless to say when they repeatedly show redneck people treating the main characters progressively worse simply based on their lifestyle or their look, it made me have to reevaluate my perspective on different walks of life. Because of this, if nothing else, Dennis Hopper manages to at least show that first impressions of people are sometimes not always right or fair. However, I don't think this point would have required a redundant 90 minute movie to do so. Essentially "Easy Rider" becomes a 90 minute PSA when it ends abruptly and unexpectedly and leaves you saying "Well that just wasn't fair!"

The pacing to this movie is so slow and the long following shots of the two men on their bikes is just too repetitive. There are also extended periods of little-to-no dialogue, which can be fine since I am passionate about silent cinema, however this is more of an awkward silence. You're waiting for someone, anyone to say something and break the ice, but the exchanges with just about everyone are limited and curt. The only lengthy dialogue comes from Jack Nicholson, who is introduced late in the movie and, like all the other people in these two characters lives, seems to just come and go.

It's not that I don't understand or acknowledge the use of things like metaphor, imagery and symbolism in this movie, it's just that I don't believe it ended up serving the story, and at the end of the day I have to come back to the argument that there really wasn't even a story to begin with!

#89. Patton (1970)

When I was in the Army, myself and my battle buddy invented a game called Butt Darts. The object was relatively simple, if you could sneak up behind a fellow soldier, gyrate three times as if you were violating them from behind and successfully sneak away without them having caught you, then you receive points based on the person's rank and how often they bend over. For instance, an officer doesn't do a lot of work so it is rare to catch them bending over. Meanwhile, a First Sergeant does a lot of work, but doesn't like people standing too close to him, so that is a risky score.

These are the kinds of things you come up with in high-stress situations with no sleep. Nothing says you're comfortable with your manhood like pretending to mount another guy- and I'm sure there were a few of those guys who used that game as their own way of coming out, but I digress.

A crucial aspect of Butt Darts though was the fact that we wouldn't dare try it on someone we didn't respect. If someone Butt Darted you, you were one of the boys. The more we respected you, the higher your point value was, it was a way of showing what kind of regard we held you in. George S. Patton would have been worth about a half a point at best.

One of the most unsatisfying things about biopics up until the late 70's/early 80's was the fact that you just didn't make a film about somebody without canonizing them. In early biopics Babe Ruth never touched a drop of alcohol and the Lincoln County Cattle War would never have been won without John Chisum, who was a fair and just businessman. "Patton" was one of those movies that came out at the twilight of this era in cinema. You can tell the director wanted to show that Patton had some human flaws, but always stops short of pointing them out. Or at least of stops short of actually calling them flaws.

"The absence of war will destroy him." (Capt. Steiger, "Patton")

At one point in the movie, a contemporary lectures Patton about how he is gambling with the lives of troops for his own personal glory, but then even this mild criticism becomes a compliment when the fellow General states that it is just because Patton loves the military so much.

I have to imagine there are two kinds of people who would have admired a man like Patton. The armchair warriors who never had the sack to enlist themselves but still expect "their" military to be superhuman. The second are the people who go into the military because conventional life just does not work for them. People who need to have their lives regimented either because of a lack of discipline or a lack of ability to function in day-to-day society.

When Patton takes charge of a unit in Northern Africa he immediately begin to throw his weight around. Pictures aren't allowed on the barracks walls, fines are instituted for anyone who's uniform is not to Patton's standards and the Army doctors are ordered not to treat anyone with PTSD, even going so far as to slap and berate a shell-shocked private who has just come off the front line. Of course it is easy for anyone who doesn't actually wear the uniform to cheer for this kind of discipline. People who have no individuality or who have no problem succumbing to conformity would probably consider this method of leadership quite the "hell yeah!" moment. Of course, given the attitude Americans had at the time about the stresses of war and the jaded attitudes back home regarding Vietnam it is no surprise "combat fatigue" is so ignorantly and insensitively handled.

"Patton" is not a terrible movie, it just walks a very thin line. It is a daunting and impossible task to polish a turd but this movie attempts to do so by presenting Patton in a positive, even sympathetic light. The cinemascope is incredible, the tank battle scenes are incredibly realistic when shown in the panoramic sense and there is no "filler" in this 3 hour movie. In fact there are a lot of things missing.

I need to know more about Patton's background, his combat street-cred, any incidents that may have made him the way he was, what happened to him after the war. Did he have a family? Did he come from a military background? Yes, I know the answers to all these questions are only a google search away, but first of all nobody had google in 1970 and secondly, I think its a modest request to want this basic information to be in a BIOPIC!

Lastly, but certainly no small gripe: how are we expected to believe strict, draconian leadership is effective from someone who is portrayed as totally insubordinate? At one point in the movie Patton promotes himself to Lieutenant General in the field before Congress has even approved it. Who's to say that any solider on the line who would have questioned or defied his methods wouldn't have been every bit as in the right as Patton himself?

This is just one of too many questions that "Patton" leaves unanswered. This is confusing to say so I can't even imagine how confusing it may be to read, but here goes: Patton was a steaming pile of shit, I just don't know if "Patton" was...

#90. "The Jazz Singer" (1927)

There is an episode of “Family Guy” where an elderly man is at a scientist’s convention and he brings an electric lamp with him. When the onlookers are less than enthusiastic about his contribution, he is baffled and exclaims “You don't think this is amazing? When I saw this at the 1904 World’s Fair I nearly crapped my pants” That is the way I picture movie producers reacting to new technologies in cinema.

When George Melies stumbled upon stop-motion effects, he directed “A Trip to the Moon” which, though I still regard as a beautiful movie, the problem was the fact that so many effects and stop-motion sequences were included it became absurd and disjointed because the focus was on finding any excuse he could to show us this great new toy. Over 100 years later James Cameron found a new way to combine CGI and 3D effects and threw together a two-hour-plus mess called “Avatar” that basically stole the scripts from “Dances with Wolves” and “Ferngully” but the whole world fell at his feet in marvel of the newest visual gizmo.

When I saw that “The Jazz Singer” was on the list, and especially when the front of the DVD said “The First Sound Motion Picture” (in actuality it was merely the first widely released movie that featured spoken dialogue, and that was minimal, but all the songs did feature audible lyrics) I was afraid I was going to see more of the same: People crapping themselves so much over new technology that the substance is sacrificed and the story ultimately suffers because of it. Don’t get me wrong, the story is still kind of weak, but it is at least a well conceived story and realistically it was the first “no son of mine is going to…” kind of movie, but that’s the problem; it birthed a now-too-common movie cliché.

As the son of an Orthodox Jewish Cantor, Jakie Rabinowitz (Al Jolson) has chosen his lifelong passion of singing Jazz in clubs and theatres over his father’s dream of Jakie taking his place in the synagogue. Decades go by without the two speaking while Jakie continues gaining prestige in the jazz world. After successfully touring the nightclubs of California, Chicago, Oregon and Washington (rare Pacific Northwest shout-outs in the olden days of cinema) he discovers he is heading back home to New York for a role in a Broadway show. He decides this is as good a time as any to try and reconcile with his estranged father. His father refuses to welcome him back into the family unless he gives up his jazz singing to lead the congregation in Kol Nidre for Yom Kippur, when he announces that he will be doing dress rehearsals for his show instead, his father disowns him again. Eventually, his father falls ill and makes it clear that his dying wish and the only way he will reconcile with Jakie is if he chooses to sing for the congregation instead of his music career. I won't spoil the ending for anyone but it should be fairly obvious what happens.

"We in the show business have our religion, too - on every day - the show must go on!"(Jackie Rabinowitz, "The Jazz Singer")

Now to address the elephant in the room....

I can't talk about "The Jazz Singer" without mentioning the fact that Al Jolson performs twice in blackface. I've known about this for a long time and it was a huge reason I never watched the film before now. I was all set to rip this movie to shreds because of this offensive abomination. I had my first line all ready to go:

(ALTERNATE BLOG ENTRY INTRODUCTION)

In his 1997 book "Brain Droppings" George Carlin boldly states "Fuck Al Jolson." After having watched his racist 1927 cinematic abortion "The Jazz Singer" I agree... fuck Al Jolson!

However, I had to jettison this entry, because I don't feel like Al Jolson meant to be racist or offensive when he does these scenes. The context is that he has to perform in blackface as part of his pre-written role in the Broadway show. Furthermore, he doesn't do the full-on blackface routine we all know where the horrible racial stereotypes and ignorant slang are part of the act, he just sings a couple songs while portraying a jazz singer who happens to be black. Also, I can't imagine Al Jolson could have justified being a raging bigot when he himself belonged to a persecuted ethnic group. In fact the most racist thing I can find in "The Jazz Singer" is the scene where Jakie's mother gets a letter from her long-lost son and the only parts she is interested in are the ones regarding the "nice girl" he met and her subsequent worries that she may be a shiksa (gentile). And in this case, Al Jolson is playing off the stereotypical Jewish mother, and I am of the belief that you can't be racist against your own people.

Ultimately this is a relief, as I didn't WANT "The Jazz Singer" to be a racist movie, I was just sure it was because of the blackface stuff. Don't get me wrong, blackface was ignorant, disgusting and unforgivable but I also realize it was a societal norm at the time this movie was made. It was a common and accepted form of entertainment to most Americans, and like I said, Al Jolson REALLY toned it down as far as the bigoted portrayal goes.

At the end of the day though, I do still believe that the only reason this film was as highly regarded as it was and certainly the only reason it made it onto this list was because of the fact that it was, for all intents and purposes, the first "talkie" in American cinema. Had it not blazed such a significant trail, the relatively contrived storyline would have been lost in the fold of numerous other movies in the silent era. It would have joined the ranks of "The Man in the Iron Mask" in that people today would only know of the remake and be totally unaware there ever WAS a previous version. "The Jazz Singer" could have been a much better movie, but at the same time I am just glad it wasn't as terribly offensive as I feared it would be.

#91. My Fair Lady (1964)

I was always under the impression that feeling dirty, awkward and uncomfortable while watching a movie was reserved for "Two Girls, One Cup." Then I watched "My Fair Lady."

I'm not entirely incapable of enjoying a musical, "Yankee Doodle Dandy" was great, even the film version of "Phantom of the Opera" was pretty good despite the fact that Andrew Lloyd Webber's crimes against the stage equate to Manuel Noriega's crimes against humanity. However, it doesn't bode well for a musical or any other kind of movie when I am constantly reading the chapter list to make sure we are getting closer to the end.

For those of you who don't know the premise, the film is based on the play "Pygmalion" by George Bernard Shaw. An arrogant professor/phoneticist named Henry Higgins meets an unrefined cockney flower girl, Eliza Doolittle and makes a bet with his friend that he can teach her to be ladylike and eventually be able to pass her off as a noble. At first it seems like it is going to be a lighthearted story with a sprinkling of satire aimed at classism. However, almost immediately things take a turn for the worse.

When it is determined the Eliza will be living with Professor Higgins for the 6 month duration of the project while he changes her style, mannerisms and language. Almost immediately this premise lends itself to a skeevy element of prostitution. This impression is only encouraged by Eliza's protests that this arrangement will compromise her virtue, and exacerbated even further when her father attempts to "come to her rescue" and is simply paid off by Higgins to leave them alone. From here, the woman-hating Higgins proceeds to live out some kind of perverse role-playing-like fantasy by dressing Eliza up in all sorts of opulent outfits and assigning handlers to her to ensure she is dressed, groomed and even bathed to his standards.

Throughout the film, Higgins projects a barbaric, misogynistic attitude towards women; treating Eliza as property, breaking into an uncomfortably flirtatious number with his ass-ociate Col. Pickering asking why women can't be more like him and never attempting to relieve Eliza's fears that he is going to physically harm her. In fact he seems to revel in her paranoia and only gets more glee from constantly verbally berating her. This uncomfortable relationship is only enhanced by the significant age difference between Higgins and Eliza.

"Have you ever met a man of good character where women are concerned?" (Henry Higgins, "My Fair Lady")

The only scene where Higgins seems like he may be able to redeem himself comes after a horrified Eliza finds out she was merely the subject of a wager and angrily confronts him about it. He implies that all he ever wanted was for her to stand up to him and gain some self-confidence. However this hope of good character is immediately dashed when he expresses shock at her "lack of gratitude." He also admits envy to the point of wishing for a pathetic, impoverished existence when Eliza begins a relationship with one of the upper-classmen she meets at a wealthy race track.

While it is only HEAVILY implied and hinted at through songs, particularly "I Could Have Danced All Night" and "I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face" the concept of Eliza and Higgins being love interests is nothing short of creepy. This creepiness is only enhanced by the fact that, given the attitude he has expressed towards women and the appallingly sexist remarks he makes towards her, Eliza would seemingly submit to a life of being a possession is heartbreaking.

Even the title alone, "My Fair Lady" displays this backwards principle of male ownership. Especially given the fact that the original production was going to be called "Lady Eliza" but Rex Harrison, who secured the role of Higgins both in the stage musical and the subsequent film and apparently took the part to heart, refused to be the male lead in a production with a female title character.

Despite the attention that has been lavished on Audrey Hepburn for her portrayal of Eliza Doolittle, I feel this film was largely unfair to her. By overdubbing her vocals without her knowledge, the impression someone gets from watching it was that she was a terrible singer and an even worse lip-syncer. However, I guess this doesn't surprise me since berating and degrading women seems to be the focal point of this film.

"My Fair Lady" is not without it's positive aspects. The lavish production and extravagant budget it was given was an amazing credit to the level of confidence a movie studio was willing to give an adapted stage musical, something that had only previously been seen with James Whale's "Show Boat." Also, the freezing of the background characters while those in the foreground become the center of attention was a brilliant directorial tool which makes the movie feel like a more theatrical experience than a cinematic, as this is what the characters would be doing when the curtain is lifted and lowered. Also, the one truly great song in the production "I Could Have Danced All Night" gets plenty of exposure as it appears in reprise form several times throughout the film.

In the end though, it is simply too much to demand of an audience to endure three hours of this rubbish. When my wife and I first began this project we agreed that while we may see some movies that were not our cup of tea, we still wouldn't see anything that could be called a "bad" movie. After watching "My Fair Lady" I may have to re-evaluate that claim.

#92. A Place in the Sun (1951)

Don't let the title fool you, "A Place in the Sun" is not a Hallmark love story or a warm, happy film about a warm, happy place.

In fact, "A Place in the Sun" might be one of the darkest movies I have ever seen. It may also be one of the best. Furthermore, it is any Film Study Professor's wet dream.

Montgomery Clift, who's later-life decline was so gradual and so self-destructive it was referred to as "the longest suicide in Hollywood history" plays George Eastman, who goes to work at his uncle's factory. Rather than using nepotism to his advantage, he ends up with an assembly line job and works his ass off to try and advance a little further. While on the line he meets Alice, a somewhat frumpy co-worker who he has several secret nighttime dates with, as his uncle strictly forbids workplace relationships. Eventually he spends less time with Alice in favor of a celebrity socialite Angela Vickers (Elizabeth Taylor) and the two fall in love.

Life throws George a nasty curveball when it turns out Alice is pregnant with his baby, since she is unmarried and he is in jeopardy of falling out of the good graces he is starting to achieve with his uncle, they attempt to secure an abortion. When this fails Alice makes the decision for both of them that marriage is the only option. George makes a decision of his own when he hears a story about a couple who drowned in nearby Loon Lake. He takes Alice out on the lake with every intention of murdering her, but later has second thoughts. However, Alice comes to her own conclusion that this is what he is trying to do and, in the ensuing chaos she manages to tip the boat, they are both struck in the head by the oar and Alice winds up drowning anyway. Though George decides not to go through with his plans there is already too much evidence against him for setting up the events and he is eventually tried for her murder.

I can't even begin to express how shocked I am that a movie made in the 40's and released in the early 50's deals with the subjects of pre-marital sex, unwed pregnancy and abortion. I have to presume the only way this movie got approved by the Censorship Offices was because the words "pregnant" and "abortion" are never used, rather they are heavily implied in the dialogue.

In spite of the sleaziness of carrying on affairs with two women, George Eastman is in many ways the perfect protagonist. His internal struggle is very human and very carnal, his genuine love for Angela makes his disloyalty to Alice more understandable than if she were simply a fling and even his motive for wanting to kill Alice can almost be seen as merciful due to the inevitable poverty her and her child are doomed to, not to mention the shame and scorn of a judgemental society. Another interesting aspect of George's character is that his desire to succeed is not based on greed, but rather a desire to support his mission-worker mother. Also, it is important that a good protagonist not be too much of a goody-two-shoes, if nothing else because it is unrealistic. Everyone knows a flawed person while few of us know a "perfect" person, and if we do, chances are we don't like them very much.

"Every time you leave me for a minute, it's like goodbye. I like to believe it means you can't live without me" (Angela Vickers (A Place in the Sun)

Not only does Montgomery Clift pull off one of the best leading roles in the history of cinema, he accomplishes a horrifying level of silent acting. The scene where he takes Alice on Loon Lake consists of many close up shots, he is sweating profusely and not saying a word. As his moods change from murderous to merciful his face is half light and half dark as if to show the very nature of his soul at that given moment. Also, as he emerges from the lake unharmed after Alice has drowned he walks towards a fixed camera, staring straight ahead into it. This could imply daze, an indicator innocence by being able to look you in the eye and tell you that he did not kill Alice or just a creepy homage to the film the shot appears to have been borrowed from, 1932's "Island of Lost Souls."

Shelley Winters accomplishes her task of making the viewer both sympathize with as well as intensely dislike the character of Alice, her incessant nagging and seemingly indifferent attitude to George's career advancement, even when it would suit her best interests makes it much easier on the viewer to cope with her death. However her initial reasons for falling in love with George (a deathly fear of loneliness) makes her story a sad one. Elizabeth Taylor on the other hand is so sweet, genuine and affectionate towards George that you find yourself pulling for him if only just to see her happy.

There is a lot of deep social commentary going on in this movie as well: not just the humanization of people who can't seem to keep their pants on, but just the way it illustrates the general ills of a class-based society. The distance between George and his Uncle based on his impoverished upbringing, the fact that Angela, while not at all snooty or elitist in her beliefs, is not even able to notice George until he is invited to a soiree and the fact that even though he works side-by-side with her, Alice tells George that he is "not on the same boat" as her (also a grim foreshadowing of her demise) all serve as constant reminders that there are no such thing as equals in a capitalistic world.

The unfairness of the justice system is also very prevalent during the course of the film, not only when Angela is pulled over for speeding and still only receives a warning based on who she is, but George's ability to get a fair trial. You realize just how hopeless it is to defend yourself when you are not in a position of privilege. This point is underscored even further when Angela's father mentions that he has the ability to spend $100,000 to prove George's innocence or not spend one penny to save him from the electric chair.

As I mentioned earlier, "A Place in the Sun" is loaded with textbook examples of amazing film-making elements. The character study, the dramatic use of music (which ironically features lovely string arrangements typically reserved for love scenes when George comes to the realization that he could kill Alice and dark "DUH-DUH-DUH" kinds of orchestrations at times when it looks like George may have to settle down with Alice) and unbelievable use of lighting. Since all his meetings with Alice have to be secretive and at night, the setting is always dark and gloomy like George's prospects of life with her, whereas time with Angela is spent at the beach or in well-lit opulent parties, the polar opposite of his drab existence outside of high society.

I would never in a million years have watched, or probably even heard of this movie had it not popped up on my list for this project. To be honest, that prospect depresses the hell out of me now. Now that I have seen "A Place in the Sun" I can't imagine my life without it from here on. Just like George falls in love with Angela the moment he lays eyes on her, I have been completely swept off my feet by this movie. I know there is no such thing as the "perfect movie" but I would be shocked if there was one out there that came as close as this one.

#93. The Apartment (1960)

When I saw the title on the list I had no idea what I was getting into. I definitely didn't think it was going to be a movie so far beyond anything else that was being done at the time.

The plot focuses on an ambitious insurance accountant (Jack Lemmon) eager to climb the ladder at his 31,000 employee company who finds a pretty shady way to do so. Apparently in the late 50's/early 60's male bachelors were few and far between, ones who have their own apartment by Central Park were an even more precious commodity. If you are a philandering member of upper-management, you exchange good words and positive performance evaluations for standing appointments to borrow said apartment as a love nest. This results in Jack Lemmon's character being promoted straight to the top in a short amount of time.

Other than the obvious dilemmas that can result from such an arrangement (What do you do to pass the time while your superiors are filling your apartment with stank? Aren't these girls going to come to your place looking for these guys?) there has to be a more serious conflict in order for there to be a movie plot- so this is the part where the up-and-coming executive falls in love with his boss' side-dish.

I would love to have seen how this film was received upon its' inital release, because the way sex is discussed in this movie is very frank, not frank for its time, just frank. The water-cooler talk at the office is all about the girls the men are bringing to the apartment, the neighbors hear what is going on all hours of the day and assume Jack Lemmon is constantly having a sexual battle-royal and one of the men from the office even suggests a four-way "party." "The Apartment" had the strange timing of being released after the overly-conservative 1950's but before the sex-with-strangers-in-the-mud late-60's, so it's hard for me to tell what the sexual attitudes of the time were, but I can't imagine there wasn't some degree of protest over this movie. Conversely though, there must have also been a considerable amount of mainstream tolerance, as it did win the Oscar for Best Picture that year.

As far as the major players go, I was pleasantly surprised for the most part. I have never seen Shirley MacLaine play anything besides a sassy grandma type character, so I was able to get some insight as to why she is actually Hollywood Royalty- I had previously assumed it was just because she had simply lived long enough, but her portrayal of the mistress of the Big Boss was unlike any I've ever seen. She brings an aspect of humanity and sympathy to what could have been just another "other woman" character. Fred MacMurray was NOTHING like the Fred MacMurray I remember from "My Three Sons," I was impressed at how well he was able to play a sleaze. Jack Lemmon is another story however, his overly expressive, self-aware comedic acting paved the way for the Matthew Perrys of the world, and that isn't a good thing.

One of the most thought-provoking things "The Apartment" is able to achieve is the level of shock or outrage certain people experience while watching it. My wife was absolutely mortified over how many of the men in the upper-ranks of this insurance company were cheating on their wives at some random employee's apartment- I wasn't really shocked. I have always had the attitude that to a certain extent, the trade off to corporate success was leaving your morals at the door. To ascend to the upper-ranks of business means to leave your good traits in the gutter. Maybe it's the anti-authoritarian in me, maybe it's just because of my own observances of how people in upper-managerial roles conduct themselves.

"When you're in love with a married man, you shouldn't wear mascara" (Fran Kubelik, "The Apartment")

One last thing about "The Apartment" that may not appeal to everyone is the use of gallows-humor. I am drawn to the darker aspects of comedy, dead celebrity jokes have always gotten to me faster than knock-knock jokes. When Jack Lemmon's character's botched suicide attempt becomes a focus of multiple jokes, some may wince. When Shirley MacLaine suggests the doctors shoot her like they do a horse over a broken leg, I might have been the only one in the theater in 1960 laughing out loud. The darker aspects of life (or death as it were) that Billy Wilder injects into all the movies he directs especially benefit this movie, as Jack Lemmon's over-the-top-to-the-point-of-absurd comedy needs something to counter-balance it.

#94. Goodfellas (1990)

How f'ing cool is "Goodfellas??!!"

One very basic acid-test I've always used for how much I like a movie is how many times I find myself saying "YES!" Looking back after having just watched "Goodfellas" I wish I would have counted, but there are quite a few.

Contrary to the attitude I have carried about this movie for years without having seen it, this is not a typical mobster movie- despite all the evidence to the contrary. Yeah sure DeNiro and Pesci play the kinds of characters you almost always see them as, sure there is a scene where a bunch of wiseguys bury a guy they just whacked in the middle of nowhere and of course a guy gets strangled with piano wire, but there is something significantly different about this mobster movie.

The body-count isn't ridiculously high, they don't force that notion of family honor on you and most importantly, and VERY hard to do- they don't glamorize the world of organized crime, but they also don't scorn it. Movies that depict criminals or anti-heroes as the protagonist tend to either preach the consequences of living a lawless life to you or they show no consequences at all. "Goodfellas" is very matter-of-fact about everything. Yeah, you screw up you might get killed. If you aren't smart with your money you're gonna go broke. Very few movies have been able to show people making a frowned-upon living in a non-judgemental kind of way. The only other movie that even comes close that I can think of is "Boogie Nights."

"There was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and believe me, we tried to steal every bit of it." (Henry Hill, "Goodfellas")

As I have said before, I am a music man first and a movie man second- this film is a beautiful marriage of the two and it is laced with some of my favorite music of all time, it is especially Phil-Spector heavy. In fact a pivotal scene featuring a staggering tracking shot that never cuts away or edits the perspective is set to my favorite Spector production "Then He Kissed Me" by The Crystals.

Of all the movies I have watched so far for this project, none have awed me with their cinematography as much as this one. In addition to the tracking shot I mentioned before, there is a scene where Joe Pesci, Ray Liotta and Robert DeNiro realize the body of a wiseguy they buried 6 months ago is probably going to be exhumed so they set out to do it first. The only lighting comes from the tail-lights of an old Pontiac. The black silhouettes of the three with a strong red backlight conjures up all kinds of sadistic imagery, blood-saturation, the pits of Hell, even the Nazi flag. If Martin Scorsese ever should have won the Oscar, it should have been for this movie just based on the creative use of lighting, silent acting and still shots alone. I wonder if, 20 years later, the Academy thinks it may have dropped the ball a little bit handing that award over to Kevin Costner.

I really don't even mind the fact that Joe Pesci shows us how much of a one-trick pony he really is in this movie because, lets face it, if you are going to have an obnoxious mafia guy with short-man syndrome character, why not go with what you know works? His reckless killings and the way his colleagues react to them is a much more realistic depiction of how the mafia probably works rather than everyone just laughing about it and sticking the mook in a trash compactor. His scenes are among the best in the movie but you still find yourself cheering when someone finally shuts his ass up.

"Goodfellas" is the best example so far of why my wife and I decided to embark on this endeavor in the first place- to make us watch movies we normally never would have, and discover that we in fact loved them.

#95. Pulp Fiction (1994)

There are a lot of bad things I can say about "Pulp Fiction."

There is no clear-cut plot. Who is the "main character?" What is the point of not telling us whats in the briefcase? The timeline is all disjointed. How can two hitmen fire like a dozen shots in an apartment building and not have anyone call the cops? How unrealistic is the dialogue with Uma Thurman and John Travolta? For that matter are we really expected to believe ANY man would risk physical harm over UMA THURMAN?? There are certain rules to film-making that are pretty basic and pretty clear, this movie doesn't respect any of these rules.

Then again, if you knew me in college you know that I don't have a lot of respect for rules and regulations.

For all the things that are wrong with this movie, there are some things that are inherently right with it. While I have never been a recreational drug user (not even once) I spent a significant part of my life deeply immersed in the lifestyle and the dialogue in this movie is 100% authentic. The drug dealer HAD to have been based on a real person, everything from the mannerisms to what goes on at their houses in the middle of the night is dead-on. Also, the banter between Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta is incredible and as much as I dislike Quentin Tarantino's directorial style I think it took a brilliant mind to even think of pairing those two up. Also, I appreciate the fact that there is so much humor- not everyone can find comedic value in such dark subject matter and gallows humor has held a special place in my heart ever since I heard the "Need Another Seven Astronauts" joke following the Challenger Explosion.

"I can't give you this case, it don't belong to me. Besides, I've already been through too much shit this morning over this case to hand it over to your dumb ass." (Jules Winnfield, Pulp Fiction)

Though the entire sequence with Bruce Willis is laborious to endure, the characters he comes in contact with hearken back to film noir pieces from the 50's. Not to mention Christopher Walken's cameo is hysterically disturbing and brings a sense of ridiculousness to an otherwise WAY too serious storyline. Also, while I won't call it character development, the silent physical acting is very commendable in the scene where Bruce Willis decides to rescue Ving Rhames from having his stool pushed up in a completely non-bar etiquette way.

I do think some things are best left to the imagination of the audience, however I honestly don't think the whole "what is in the briefcase" thing was done artistically. Rather, I think it serves as a terrible Spackle job in the hole that is the explanation for why Vincent and Jules survived the bathroom gunman attack. The "666" combination, the possibility of divine intervention, the glow coming from the case, all of these things lend themselves to the possibility that the contents of the case could be anything from a soul to some type of religious icon. If I were going to venture a guess I would say that the briefcase contains the Holy Grail. There is way too much biblical symbolism for me to think it is anything else. I am also comfortable making this assumption because I know that it will never be dispelled or confirmed, as presumably any explanation given for the contents would still leave a hole in the storyline, but leaving it open for speculation ties off all the loose ends without actually doing so. Cop out, Quentin, Cop out.

I vowed I would never watch another Tarantino movie after my major disagreement with "Reservoir Dogs" but I am glad I watched this one. It entertained me and did a much better job of intersecting all the stories together than other films which have attempted this ("Love Actually" anyone?) While I will still never like the non-linear storytelling I can't accuse him of having stolen it from anyone. Also, now that I know it is his "thing" I can safely avoid the rest of his movies- for real this time ;)

#96. The Searchers (1956)

Fresh off my horrible experience with “Unforgiven” the AFI has dealt me another western with John Wayne’s “The Searchers.” If you haven’t already read about that experience, “Unforgiven” left such a bad taste in my mouth I felt like I’d given a hummer to the Jolly Green Giant. Needless to say another western with just one movie in between them felt like it was going to be quite the chore. Add to that the fact that my only previous knowledge of “The Searchers” was rampant speculation that it could possibly be the most racist movie this side of “The Passion of the Christ.” Oy!

Right out of the chute we get a feeling for what kind of racial attitudes we are up against. John Wayne's character Ethan comes home from the Civil War where he was fighting for the Confederacy. He finds out his brother has taken in an adoptive son named Martin who is one-eighth Cherokee, of which Ethan clearly disapproves. One day while all the men-folk are out with the Texas Rangers, except Ethan's brother, the savage and inexplicably vicious Comanche Tribe raids the homestead and kills everyone except the 9 year old and teenage daughters, where it is more than heavily implied they will rape them and forcibly make them part of their tribe.

Of course the only thing a "real man" like John Wayne can do is pursue justice. It was a little tougher for me to get a hard-on over this pursuit of sweet, bloody revenge like it was when I started watching "Unforgiven." Namely because of the fact that it is conveniently overlooked exactly WHY the Comanches are so hostile and conduct raids on land that used to be theirs to begin with. "The Searchers" takes place the same year the Texiacans (American colonists who were welcomed without any restriction into Texas by the Mexicans who still owned Texas) attempted to force the Comanches onto crude reservations in the Arizona desert. Thus, no matter how evil they attempted to depict them, it is hard for me to vilify the Comanches too much.

Almost immediately Ethan discovers that the Comanches must have gotten all they wanted out of his niece Lucy, because he finds her dead in a canyon. The plot is now him and Martin attempting to find the last survivor, Debbie. The search takes place over the course of five years which, of course leads to a lot of false leads, ambushes and self-discovery. To make a long story short, they find her, she has been forced into the Comanche tribe, and John Wayne hates injuns so much he would rather kill her than see her be "one of them" and the only thing that stops him from doing so is Martin.

"We'll find 'em in the end, I promise you. We'll find 'em. Just as sure as the turnin' of the earth" (Ethan Edwards "The Searchers")

Eventually, with the help of the Texas Rangers and the Union Army, Ethan successfully raids the Comanche camp, has a chance to kill Debbie, but instead thinks better of it and rescues her and everyone lives... happily ever after?? As happy as a movie like that can end I suppose...

As much as I can (and will) criticize John Wayne's one-dimensional acting, there is one thing I can say to his credit in this film. There is one early scene in particular shortly after their search begins that he has a breakdown where he conveys so much anger and hatred that it is almost scary. Maybe he was drawing on his real feelings toward Native Americans (which I've heard rumors were sour) or maybe it was because of the implied subtext that Ethan is in love with his brother's wife, but whatever it is, for one brief moment in this film, John Wayne seems like he is ready to kill for real.

Initially I wanted to unload on this movie and talk about how horribly racist it was, how ignorantly it depicted Native Americans and how it absolves the white settlers of any wrongdoing. Then I got to thinking, maybe they were trying to illustrate some subtle point against racism after all. Even though it seems quite begrudgingly, Ethan does accept Debbie as his own flesh and blood after all, even if she has been "defiled." Though even more of an afterthought is the fact that Scar, the Comanche Chief, while showing off his collection of white people's scalps, mentions that he takes two for every son he has lost to the white man. In the end the point is made, just not stressed enough, that Ethan's quest for revenge is no different than the position the Comanches were forced into.

"The Searchers" was a vastly superior western to "Unforgiven" in every way, and I can't believe only one movie separates the two in the minds of the AFI. Or more to the point, I don't see how "Unforgiven" was even allowed to be on the same list as "The Searchers." The cinematography is so far beyond anything that was being done at the time and I have taken enough film classes to know that John Ford was one of the greatest outdoor directors of all time. All in all this movie endures a lot. It endures the racially insensitive vernacular of it's time, it endures the advancements made in film making that have come along since and most of all it even endures John Wayne's sucky acting.

#97. Bringing Up Baby (1938)

I was a little leery of this movie based on the title- I guess I assumed it had something to do with actual babies, had I known Baby was an adorable leopard I would probably have seen this movie years ago.

I have to assume this movie is the first incarnation of what is now the modern romantic comedy. Katharine Hepburn is hilarious as a flighty socialite who uses Baby the Leopard as the bait to get to know Cary Grant, to the point that she pretends to be mauled over the phone to prevent him from making his wedding. The premise of the movie itself is totally absurd and, like most movies, can have about a dozen holes shot through the plot if you look hard enough.

'He's three years old, gentle as a kitten, and likes dogs.' I wonder whether Mark means that he eats dogs or is fond of them? (Susan Vance, "Bringing Up Baby"

For hours after watching this film I was beating myself over the head asking myself "how did this movie make the list?" Not that it wasn't entertaining, it was hilarious. In fact it was one of the funniest movies I've ever seen and the comedic aspects of the movie were WAY ahead of their time. Not only does this movie include the first ever cinematic use of the word "gay" in reference to homosexuality rather than to mean happy and festive, but it also builds many of it's laughs around the topic of stalking. I'm not sure if my past experiences with stalkers helps enhance my enjoyment of these gags or just makes them less outrageous to me because I've seen that kind of behavior, but for whatever reason I honestly laughed til I cried with this movie.

However, funny or not, I just feel like there needs to be "more" to a movie to make it a truly "great" film. After awhile, I realized that maybe I have become too much of a movie snob. Motion pictures can be just a form of entertainment, not every movie has to make some grand statement or be the first to use a crane-cam or a breakaway wall. They don't all have to have some deep symbolism that is hidden in the body language or the dramatic effect of a closeup. I'm glad I realized this early on in the list so that I can appreciate the "brain candy" effect of some movies.

That said, time to move on to the in-depth analysis ;-)

I really wrestled with morality with this movie, especially as Katharine Hepburn pursues Cary Grant quite openly despite knowing he is about to be married. However, again, as I mentioned earlier in reference to modern romantic comedies, I can't even begin to single out or malign "Bringing Up Baby" for being responsible for that. Just as we are expected to believe it is sweet and romantic for Julia Roberts to want to sabotage a friend's wedding, the fact that Katharine Hepburn practically holds Cary Grant captive long enough to make him miss his wedding doesn't necessarily make her unlikable. The rationale in this case is that Cary Grant's fiance makes it clear in the first scene that they will have an unconsummated marriage because her interest is in him furthering his social status to subsequently do the same for her.

A huge credit is owed to this movie also for its amazing animal training. Tame or not, working with a live leopard in the early days of cinema must have taken a tremendous amount of trust and comfort. While there are certain scenes where you can tell the leopard has been spliced in with the cast, other scenes clearly show Baby playfully interacting with the cast. Were it not for the strides this movie made, who knows when or if we would have had Mr. Ed or the original Mighty Joe Young. Then again, if it weren't for this movie, we may have never had "Turner and Hooch" or "Bedtime for Bonzo" either.

Thanks a lot "Bringing Up Baby..."

#98. Unforgiven (1992)

This movie ended exactly the way I wanted it to end, everything that I said I hoped would happen within the first half hour happened, yet this was one of the most unsatisfying movies I have ever seen.

As a general rule, I don't care much for westerns, the "Young Guns" films and "The Assasination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" being very rare exceptions. However I am also biologically a man, and seeing the right people get shot in the right circumstances will always excite me. After reading a synopsis of "Unforgiven" it awakened the same carnal emotions in me that get me all fired up whenever I watch "The Punisher" (Thomas Jane, not Dolph Lundgren). Two hours and ten minutes later I was wishing I had been watching the Dolph Lundgren "Punisher" instead...

There are so many things wrong with "Unforgiven" that I don't even know how to list them, in order of priority, chronologically or just as I think of them, so prepare for a tirade as sloppy and disjointed as "Unforgiven" itself.

First of all, I really resent a lot of the praise this movie receives based on the notion that Clint Eastwood's character Will Munny is uniquely original because of his "anti-hero" status. Which wouldn't have been an issue had this character not been preceded by characters like Charles Foster Kane (Citizen Kane), Han Solo (Star Wars) or for that matter, Dirty Harry. Which brings me to the topic of typecasting.

I would have thought Clint Eastwood has turned out a remarkable performance if the part had been played by Terrance Stamp or Paul Newman, someone who doesn't historically play a reluctant hero with a dark past, however he simply played Clint Eastwood, complete with the gruff disconnection from other characters. More disappointing though was the completely poor usage of one of Hollywood's greatest talents, Morgan Freeman, who also falls victim to some period type-casting, as he found himself cast in the "humble sidekick" role several times during this point in his carrer ("Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves" and he even had to be the Yin to Jessica F'ing Tandy's Yang in "Driving Miss Daisy" (awesome movie btw).

All that aside, I feel there are a lot of flaws with the plot itself. First off, there needs to be some back-story. Why would Munny's deceased wife see fit to reform a man who admittedly used to kill women and children? Was she a missionary? Did she see him in a way nobody else did? Love at first sight? Did he save her life? How did people from such diverse backgrounds even cross paths? Without this key information we have to assume that nothing more than a desire to change that made Will Munny reform his ways, which is simply not believable.

Secondly, while I love the fact that they depict a friendship between a black man and a white man in the era soon after the Civil War, I find it unbelievable that Ned's race is never brought up. I wasn't alive at the time, but the notion that a black man was allowed to patronize a white brothel is hard to, um, swallow... ;) The other complaint I have with the depiction of a bi-racial friendship is the routine stand up comedians and BET shows have been pointing out to us for years, how come the brotha always has to be the one in the group to get killed?

I don't mind long movies- I love long movies. What I don't like is feeling like I am having my time wasted. The character of English Bob was given quite a bit of screen time and in many ways more character development than the major characters, which would have been fine if they would have used him more. He is a relatively entertaining eccentric with a fascinating backstory who is built up only to be discarded mid-movie and never seen again. On top of that, the Gene Hackman Sheriff is such a shady scumbag that there is no good reason we should believe the insight he gives us into English Bob's character.

Now, the last of my BIG nitpicks is the biggest one and I think the one that made the difference between if I would like this movie or not. Yes, all the characters that I wanted to see die were killed, it just wasn't good enough for me. The cowboy who disfigured Delilah the Sweet Hooker (no this is not her name in the credits) is killed instantly with three shots to the chest. I get no satisfaction from this. Sure it is humiliating to die on the crapper at the hands of a blind kid, but there is also a certain level of shame in killing a man that way. He needed to be made to suffer much more than he did. He needed to be castrated, tortured or carved up with a spur, then killed. I get a little solace in knowing the gut-shot his partner sustained probably led to a slow and painful death, but again, it wasn't 10% of what he deserved.

The death of Gene Hackman's character was also about as gratifying as an 8-second handjob. He spends the whole movie bragging about his shoddy carpenter skills and talking up the house he is building- to not have the last thing he sees before he is killed is his house ablaze makes me wonder why they even bothered. As he is walking out of the saloon at the end of the climactic gunfight, Munny shoots a still-alive Deputy in the nuts at close range with a shotgun. HELLO, YOU HAVE AN ANTAGONIST WHO HARMED A SEX WORKER!!!!! Why was he not on the other end of this exchange?? That is Cinema 101 shit. Even better if one of the prostitutes had done it instead considering they are ridiculed and maligned by nearly everyone in the whole movie and never get any real retribution.

"He should have armed himself if he's going to decorate his saloon with my friend" (William Munny, "Unforgiven")

The abrupt ending also took me aback quite a bit. What happens to a town where the sheriff and the whole police force have been killed? What happens to the saloon/brothel once the owner is killed? Are the prostitutes going to unionize? What happens to The Schofield Kid? Ned's widow? Does Delilah finally attain some level of happiness? Why don't they tell us exactly what Munny did in his past? I know there are people out there who would say there is a certain artistry in keeping us in the dark so we can draw our own conclusions or because life doesn't always go how it should, but it's hard to draw conclusions about people we know so little about. The only place where this directorial tool is TRULY successful is the end synopsis where Munny's widow's mother is left to wonder what her daughter ever saw in him. As a viewer I just felt screwed.

When having our customary post-movie wrap-up discussion, my wife Lisa used an expression to describe this film that really stuck with me: Lazy Filmmaking. The lack of character development, the holes in the narrative, the jumping around from sub-plot to sub-plot, the numerous loose-ends left at the end- everything about this movie just felt thrown together. I have often heard this movie described as an "anti-western" or the antithesis of the John Wayne era, and other than the fact that the protagonist wasn't a sugar-coated hero, the only difference between this and the other few westerns I have seen is the fact that, instead of a sunset, Munny rides off into a storm... oooooooh dramatic!!!

One more thing: Does Munny seriously leave an 8-year-old boy in charge of the family farm?!?! WTF?