Monday, September 19, 2011

#13. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)

Don’t let the fact that I watch The History Channel a lot fool you into thinking I am some kind of intellectual. I am not really learning much because I’m usually watching “American Pickers” or “Pawn Stars” rather than the month-long specials devoted to World War II. One of the benefits of not being a history buff is the fact that I can watch movies like “The Bridge on the River Kwai” and not have to worry about how much the story has or has not veered off from real events when being set during actual historical events. I know the basics of World War II and not much in depth about the treatment of British POWs in Japanese work camps. Ergo, I can take a piece of maybe/maybe not history like this film and just be able to enjoy it as entertainment.

I have found that a David Lean directed film typically means big production, lots of outdoor filming and elaborate cinematography and this one is no exception. Everything from the wide-screen presentation to the huge wide-Latin font reminiscent of an old-west Wanted poster is indicative of the scope of this film. The opening shot is a point-of-view shot looking upward at a hawk in the sky with a grainy, almost low-quality effect. The more I think about it the more I think the grittiness of the shot is quite intentional given the prison-camp setting that is revealed. Almost as if to imply that the concept of freedom (often represented by flight) is somehow out of focus to the subjects of the film. The most amazing thing about the opening credits is that the scenery is so visually pleasing despite the fact that the actually images are pretty grisly; makeshift cemeteries, slave laborers working at gunpoint etc.

The action jumps back and forth between a company of new prisoners marching to the camp, led by their Commander Col. Nicholson (Alec Guinness) and a cynical American POW named Shears (William Holden) digging graves for fallen allies. At one point Shears delivers a deeply sarcastic eulogy laced with antiwar sentiment. While this may largely be viewed as simply a cinematic device to establish him as a fringe rebel or a jaded antihero, it is actually an incredibly accurate portrayal of the average grunt and the use of gallows humor as a coping mechanism.

“Here lies Corporal Herbert Thompson, serial number 01234567, valiant member of the King's own, and Queen's own, or something, who died of beriberi in the year of our Lord 1943. For the greater glory of… what did he die for? I don't mock the grave or the man. May he rest in peace. He found little enough of it while he was alive.” (Commander Shears, ‘The Bridge on the River Kwai’)



Despite being defeated and disheartened, the British troops led by Nicholson march into the camp in perfect formation while cheerfully whistling the “Colonel Bogey March” in an effort to psyche out their captors. The Japanese Colonel in charge of the camp is unfazed however and informs the company that they will be used as laborers building a rail bridge over the river Kwai, which will serve as a main supply line for the Japanese military, thus in essence meaning they will be contributing to the war effort, but for the wrong side. Nicholson is defiant to the opposing Colonel, even going so far as to remind him of Geneva Convention regulations forbidding officers being used for hard labor.

The clash in leadership between the Japanese Commander Saito and Nicholson illustrates how both men are warriors in their own right despite their stark differences in attitude. Saito speaks of the Bushido way while Nicholson continues to insist that officers do not work side-by-side with enlisted men. At first glance it appears as if his attitude is class-based, however as Nicholson’s character develops both in his confrontations with Saito as well as dialogue he exchanges with Shears, it is evident that Nicholson is from the old school of military leadership. In other words, you got to be an officer because if the things you have endured and lived through, not because of ROTC and social status prior to enlistment.

Perhaps nowhere is this trait more evident than when Nicholson defies Saito’s work orders by standing in formation under the blistering sun for an entire work day while the enlisted men work on the bridge. Despite the fact that the physical toll is more demanding than if they had chosen to work on the bridge, Nicholson’s officers follow his lead completely. This action also serves as a means of conveying how well respected Nicholson is given the fact that Saito has at this point demonstrated a willingness to physically abuse prisoners, having beaten Nicholson bloody with a copy of the Geneva Convention. Doubtless the officers all understand or at least suspect that they will be beaten or tortured in some form or another.

I love the subtle nature in which the various abuses Nicholson suffers are illustrated throughout the picture. At one point he goes into Saito’s quarters and exits being supported by two Japanese soldiers, unable to stand or walk of his own free will. Another horrendous punishment he endures is being locked into what is referred to as “the oven,” essentially a tightly enclosed metal structure left in the direct sunlight. While it is easy to imagine the severity of this torture, this film does not opt for the shock-value factor, instead the viewer’s imagination is the only limit as to what might have happened to him when he was out of sight.

The compelling parallel plot involves Shears managing to escape the prison camp amidst all the excitement of the Nicholson/Saito conflict. His plight is also depicted in through understated means; continually increasing facial hair, impatient stalking by buzzards who seem to sense his death is imminent and so forth. Fortunately for Shears he does manage to collapse right into a friendly village where he is cared for, however his arrival at the village cinematically leaves something to be desired. Images of the shadows of the overhead buzzards begin to intercut with a sort of avian creature-themed kite that is being flown by one of the children in the village. Of course the “surprise” here is that Shears fears he is on death’s door but instead the village represents a sort of salvation, thought the effectiveness of the scene is entirely diminished by the loud and gaudy appearance of the kite. Since it is so obviously either a toy or a result of an LSD like experiment, the suspense is all but diminished for the viewer before it is supposed to be.

After many sessions of tense negotiation, Saito finally gives in to Nicholson’s demands and grants amnesty to the officers, in turn Nicholson inexplicably becomes an advocate of building the bridge; perhaps because he is suffering from some sort of Stockholm Syndrome or because he is sympathetic to Saito’s situation, in which he must kill himself if the bridge is not completed on schedule. For whatever reason though Nicholson presses his men to stop sabotaging the project and build the bridge to specs and beyond.

Conversely, a newly recovered Shears is recruited to join a team tasked with destroying the bridge, to which he reluctantly agrees- setting him and Nicholson up for a fateful reunion that is sure to end badly, which it does. The bridge is blown up, but in the most unsatisfying way; with Shears and Nicholson both dying in the process; in fact it is only in his last moment of life that Nicholson realizes how much he has betrayed his own cause. His final act of redemption is bittersweet and not at all characteristic of the heroism he displays early in the film. In spite of it all though, the much anticipated destruction of the bridge itself does pay off handsomely for the viewer, as the explosion is both climactic and completely convincing.

I wish I could say that there are no wasted shots in this movie and that every single scene is necessary but I simply can’t. The runtime is relatively reasonable given the epic scope, but as with previous David Lean works, there is a significant amount of self indulgence that goes into this picture. Still, it is by no means a waste of time; the cinematography is top-notch, the acting, while a little corny in some of William Holden’s scenes is still quite superior. Alec Guinness does not stray too far from his generally dry and proper delivery, which suits the role of a British military superior perfectly. At one point during a negotiation with Saito his matter-of-fact delivery even provides some comedic results, for instance his simple, almost careless retort of “I haven’t the foggiest” when Saito asks Nicholson if he is aware of the gravity of Saito’s position.

The most unique element of the movie though is the way it is able to walk the line between anti-war and pro-war. In most cases a film discussing war is either too preachy on one side or the other (say “Patton” is in the red corner while “All Quiet on the Western Front” fights out of the blue corner). The same way the depths of opposing characters are explored, this film does not seem to take on the viewpoint of just one character- thus allowing for a more all-encompassing depiction of war. It is no small feat to center a film around war and not alienate anyone, and “The Bridge on the River Kwai” does this excellently.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

#14. Some Like it Hot (1959)

The thing about humor is that it is SO subjective.

I will never understand what people see in the character Adam Sandler plays in pretty much every movie, but I’m pretty ok with the incessant typecasting of Steve Carrell. I think the physical humor of “Jackass” is low-brow and brainless, but I think Buster Keaton was a genius. I won’t even acknowledge Monty Python’s existence, but their Canadian contemporary “The Kids in the Hall” can make me laugh til I cry. Understand that when I criticize “Some Like it Hot” it is not that I think it is a poorly made movie, it is simply that it is not my kind of humor in any way, shape or form: which, when you are talking about a comedy, kind of hinders one’s ability to enjoy the film as a whole.

Like all good drag comedies, this film begins with a police shootout. Some are rumrunners posing as undertakers transporting a hearse full of liquor through Prohibition-Era Chicago. In the typical dark Billy Wilder directorial style, the casket inside starts “bleeding” after it is filled with bullets, only to have the lid lifted to reveal bottles of alcohol instead of a corpse- and that’s how we discover the front. In fact the funeral parlor they drive to is a cover- classic 1920’s speakeasy, complete with gambling, drinking and musicians; specifically Joe (Tony Curtis) and Jerry (Jack Lemmon) who just started working there and, when the club is raided, abruptly stop working there.

Attempts to secure other jobs are fruitless so they accept a one-off gig playing a Valentine’s Day dance. Unfortunately they never make it because they end up stumbling into what is heavily implied to be the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, which they barely escape with their lives- first by not being shot in the crossfire, then by not being killed by the mobsters for witnessing the act. In the days before a comprehensive witness protection program, their only option is to accept a job in Florida, where an all-female revue happens to be in need of a bassist and sax player; the instruments the two coincidentally play! The precision with which the Massacre scene is filmed could pass as a legitimate gangster movie, meaning that this is likely one of the earliest forays into spoof comedy. So yeah, thanks a lot for “Spaceballs” Billy Wilder… dick.

Apparently it is easy to pass for a woman because with little-to-no time to prepare Joe and Jerry are transformed into Josephine and Daphne; the two ugliest women you ever saw. Despite not even being able to walk right in high heels they fool everyone in their traveling caravan; from the house mother to the ukulele player/singer Sugar (Marilyn Monroe) who Joe winds up falling in love with; at first it appears as though Jerry will be the love interest because he has a little back-and-forth with her in one of the sleeping carts when they first meet, but it doesn’t go much further than this.

“I don't care how rich he is, as long as he has a yacht, his own private railroad car, and his own toothpaste.” (Sugar, “Some Like it Hot”)


Once in Florida things go terribly awry when a millionaire named Osgood (Joe E. Brown) falls in love with Jerry in his Daphne persona. The absurdity reaches a new level when Jerry begins to entertain the notion of marrying Osgood and abruptly divorcing him for a big settlement. To complicate matters even further Joe constantly struggles to find the right time to tell Sugar the truth about him and Jerry so that he can reveal his true feelings for her that he has managed to develop in a remarkably short amount of time. And of course the icing on the cake is that the mobsters from Chicago come to the exact same hotel in Florida where they are staying- so there’s that to deal with too. Despite the fact that Sugar has basically gotten to know Joe under false pretenses, she ignores all of this and professes also being in love with him once he reveals the truth, so they can live happily ever after. Osgood also sticks to his guns in his resolve to be with “Daphne,” so much so that he is hilariously unflinching when he finds out she’s a man at the end of the movie.

In many ways “Some Like it Hot” is essentially the source material for “Tootsie.” Men are forced to disguise themselves as women due to a lack of work in the entertainment field, fall in love with women they work with who see them as confidants and fight off the amorous advances of smitten men, all the while wrestling with their consciences. The female leads are both emotionally vulnerable and insultingly portrayed as women who, while maintaining a profession, are ultimately not that bright; though Jessica Lange acts circles around Marilyn Monroe- which does not appear to be much of a task.

However, there are two fundamental differences between these two films: “Some Like it Hot” takes a much edgier approach with so much sexual innuendo you would think it was made in the era of “Porky’s” or “Stripes.” While I applaud the courage that must have taken in the 1950’s, this approach is used ad nauseum, which makes watching this movie feel more like a 2 hour shift with that boss who sexually harasses all the female employees and less like an enjoyable film watching experience. Meanwhile, “Tootsie” WAS made in the era of “Porky’s” and “Stripes” and handled almost the exact same subject matter much more intelligently (as intelligent as a movie about a man lying to women who trust him can be) and more humanly. Most significantly, there is a transition; an actual development into the female persona.

The second disadvantageous difference in “Some Like it Hot” is the presence of Jack Lemmon. His hammy overacting and overall skeevieness have the same detrimental effect on this film as they did “The Apartment.” I know there are some people who consider Lemmon to be a comedic genius, so I will again refer back to my earlier statement about comedy being subjective, probably more so than any other genre of entertainment.