#67. The Manchurian Candidate (1962)

When I was a little kid I was so frightened when I found out that The Elephant Man was real that it left a scar on me that very few people would ever believe. Meanwhile, I would unflinchingly watch horror films and slasher flicks and sleep like a baby that night. I guess I have always been more creeped out by things that have the potential of actually happening than things that are more fictitious.

The whole concept of “The Manchurian Candidate” speaks to my paranoid nature and jaded view of what the government won’t tell us. Not that I am some kind of conspiracy theory nutjob like Jesse Ventura, but I’ve read enough George Orwell books and subsequently watched them unfold in real life that I am no sucker. I know there are things going on “behind the scenes” that we will probably never even know about.

“The Manchurian Candidate” takes place in the years following the Korean War; the ugly, paranoid Cold War years. Raymond Shaw, a soldier who is back from the war is awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. He is corralled into a dog-and-pony-show type of ceremony with which he is clearly uncomfortable. As it turns out the ceremony was set up by his diabolical mother (Angela “Murder She Wrote” Lansbury) who is married to a prominent US Senator who is clearly a caricature of Joe McCarthy, as is evidenced by a ‘greatest threat to national security’ parody speech he delivers in the same booming monotone as the disgraced Senator himself. Not only does he recklessly accuse other members of congress of Communism, but he can’t even keep his list of “confirmed” Communists straight- finally and hilariously deciding on 57 given his fondness for Heinz products.

Shaw himself seems to question his own heroics, seeming more confused and detached from his accolades rather than proud or even deserving. Meanwhile, his former commanding officer Maj. Bennett Marco (Frank Sinatra) is starting to question Shaw’s heroics as well. After a series of disturbing dreams and flashbacks that become progressively more vivid, Marco is convinced that something bad happened to their squad in the heroic maneuver which allegedly led to Shaw’s Medal of Honor. His visions seem to indicate that they were taken to Manchuria and hypnotized. In fact, other members of their platoon start having the same memories- including some disturbing recollections of Shaw killing several subordinates on command. Non-coincidentally, the ones they remember Shaw killing are the same ones who allegedly died on the same combat mission for which he was awarded his Medal of Honor. Investigative evidence reveals that the whole mission never really happened; it was just an experiment to ensure that the hypnosis has worked.

The façade soon begins to crumble as each memory and secret reveals a new truth. Not only is it true that Shaw has been trained to kill without remorse through military hypnosis, but the ones behind the horrific deed aren’t even the Army brass- rather his powerful mother and stepfather. The ultimate goal being to stage the execution of the unnamed political party’s Presidential nominee at their convention at Madison Square Garden, thus clearing the way for Shaw’s stepfather (the Vice-Presidential nominee) to take the nomination himself, The reason this has to be done is because Shaw’s stepfather is an influential senator but he does not quite have enough momentum to win an election single-handedly unless a major catastrophe can be staged in order to make him appear to be a hero. Seriously, am I the only one who was thinking of September 11th at this point??

Marco eventually discovers that the trigger mechanism for making Shaw carry out orders is seeing the Queen of Diamonds playing card. He uses this breakthrough to begin deprogramming Shaw and free him from the grasp of his mother. In a thrilling climax it appears as though Marco’s efforts have failed as Shaw aims his sniper rifle at the stage only to turn it on his mother and stepfather. Finally believing he has earned his Medal of Honor, he places it around his neck before turning the rifle on himself. The film concludes with Marco eulogizing his friend for his actual heroics rather than his made-up ones.

The real artistry of “The Manchurian Candidate” lies in its’ ability to make you think. Not analytical thinking, rather the kind of thinking that keeps normally rational people awake at night. The kind of thinking that makes you wonder exactly how much is going on in the world that we don’t know about. The kind that makes you wish it was just thought provoking because at the end of the day the thought of any of this being true or possible is scary as hell. Unfortunately the film is not without its flaws.

There are too many things that can be left open to interpretation, which ultimately makes the movie suffer because of its unwillingness to fully commit to plot devices. At one point Shaw’s mother confesses to having been behind the hypnosis ploy but professes that she never knew her own son would wind up being the guinea pig. This seems unlikely since it turns out she has been manipulating him her whole life, and she immediately follows this claim by awkwardly and creepily kissing her son in a very Oedipal way. Not only is the kiss not explained, but it is never confirmed whether or not she is lying- since it is almost certain that she is, not fully committing to her sadism doesn’t make her as clear-cut an antagonist as she should be. Though to her credit, Angela Lansbury plays a phenomenal creep.

“One of your mother’s endearing traits is the tendency to refer to anyone who disagrees with her as a communist. I once found it necessary to sue your mother for defamation of character and slander. I think what hurt her more than the money was the fact that I donated it all to an organization called The American Civil Liberties Union.” (Senator Jordan “The Manchurian Candidate”)

Another seemingly pointless device employed in the film is the expansion of storylines in terms of love interests. Marco develops a relationship with a woman he meets on a train and subsequently marries her, a big step for him as he has clearly devoted his life to his military career but also a relatively pointless plotline. Also there is the expansion on a story relating to a past relationship Shaw had with a rival senator’s daughter that is rekindled. He marries her and subsequently kills her and her father. I realize that this was meant to illustrate how remorseless Shaw’s killing is, but it is a long and complicated way to make a point.

For all the little nitpicks I may have with “The Manchurian Candidate” the thing I keep going back to is the fact that sometimes the things we want to hear and the things we need to hear are often two very different things. The fact that the Kennedy Assassination occurred so soon after this film was released and the Government still doesn’t want us to know the findings is just one tiny example of life imitating art and vice-versa.

#68. An American in Paris (1951)

Imagine my disappointment when I found out that “An American in Paris” is, in fact, not the Paris Hilton sex tape.

Bad jokes aside, I have been on a tremendous George Gershwin kick lately, thanks in large part to the new Brian Wilson album. What better time for a movie based on his work to pop up on the list?

To illustrate the diversity of the social and cultural landscape of Paris we are introduced to three different protagonists, who narrate their own back-story and their relationship with the TRUE protagonist of the film; the city of Paris. There is Jerry, an aspiring painter and former US Army infantryman played by Gene Kelly (which means that you know his character is going to spontaneously and inexplicably break into dance at unusual times). We see the modest but not deplorable conditions of his small apartment in a scene where he takes a table out of his bedside closest in order to eat his breakfast. Gene Kelly does an exceptional job of illustrating both the carefree nature of Jerry as well as turning this simple routine into a small dance number conducted in a very tiny space.

Next up is Adam, a far more cynical picture of the starving artist- another American transplant he is in Paris on scholarships working towards being a concert pianist. The two live in the same apartment building and form a bond of friendship based on their mutual American-ness. The dynamic of the two characters provides a perfect “odd-couple” scenario and it is a shame that the film doesn’t include more interaction between the two.

” I'm a concert pianist. That's a pretentious way of saying I'm unemployed” (Jerry Cook, “An American in Paris”)

Rounding out the three male leads is a successful French musician who is older and wiser than the two American bohemians. As is the case with every early American film depicting a Frenchman, his name is Henri. He is slightly self-conscious about his age and enjoys the company Adam, probably because it helps him feel younger but also because he is a very generous soul and enjoys helping him out financially.

On this particular morning Henri is telling Jerry and Adam about his young fiancé Lise. Though she is not present at the time, Lise is the character who is given the most back-story, though it is not 100% accurate. Henri describes the different facets of her personality as she is shown performing interpretive dances to coincide with each of her aspects. The various characterizations of her not only seem to contradict each other but also come across as idealized. This tool is very effective in showing the borderline absurd level of perfection a person truly in love projects on the object of their affection.

Jerry sets off for his day’s work- attempting to hock his good-but-not-great paintings on the street. A young art student critiques his work while passing by. His response, while at first seemingly understandable gives the clear indication that he is probably in the wrong business given that he doesn’t respond well to criticism and appears to have a very thin skin. However he seems understanding of his limitations when talking about his work in a very self-deprecating way when he is approached by a wealthy American woman (significantly named Milo- “as in Venus De”) who buys two of his paintings, representing his first professional sale.
Milo very openly begins to pursue Jerry, who is leery of her advances and takes offense to what he assumes is her feigned interest in his work. As it turns out, Milo does have a history of “sponsoring” hopeful artists and is seemingly something of a groupie disguised as an aficionado. Her too-good-to-refuse offers of introducing him to several bigwigs in both the art and journalism communities of Paris compels Jerry to go on a quasi-date with Milo to a nightclub where he spots and subsequently falls in love at first sight with Lise, completely unaware that she is the same fiancé his friend Henri has told him about.

A love-triangle-plus-one (a love square? Diamond?) ensues, with Milo trying to break down Jerry, Jerry trying to break down Lise and Henri being blissfully ignorant to Lise’s inexplicable willingness to cheat on him with Jerry. On their first “date” Jerry and Lise establish a secluded trysting place- a riverbank. There is a very artistic fog rising off the river, blending with the overhead streetlamps which seemingly implies the presence of light (love) amidst a dark fog (emotional uncertainty). It also gives off a sort of yin-yang vibe as not only do the two share happy times there, but later sad when Lise later confesses her engagement.

Jerry explains his situation to the always-pessimistic Adam, who initially teases Jerry about his status as a glorified gigolo but also seems to encourage him to go with the “sure thing” of security with Milo. A dream-sequence sort of scenario then plays itself out where Adam fantasizes about achieving his own aims. He imagines himself as a pianist in a massive concert hall; he is then shown to be the conductor, every musician in the orchestra and the audience as well. This scene is not only cinematically impressive but also shows that, in spite of his trademark glass-half empty attitude, Adam is still very much an optimistic dreamer who refuses to make his goals any less lofty. It is a shame that this piece doesn’t appear earlier in the film, as it seems incredibly out of place in the middle of the film and is clearly just meant to give the character more onscreen time in order to make sure the audience doesn’t forget his presence.

The inevitable moment where all four of the people involved in the love-cube (I’m sticking with that) wind up in the same room occurs at a climactic party sequence. Jerry is now showering Milo with attention as he is on the rebound from having been rejected by Lise, who is also in attendance with Henri. Despite the film’s earlier style of being an oversaturated Technicolor masturbationfest the party scene is dark and is clearly meant to reflect the mood that Henri, Lise, Milo and Jerry will all eventually experience. Milo first when she finally learns the truth about Jerry and his love for Lise, then Jerry and Lise as they share an emotional goodbye/breakup on the balcony and finally Henri, who overhears their whole admission.

The climactic finale depicts Jerry performing the various cycles of human emotion with a full-scale ballet in the background. The production is of course stunning and lavish, but to the point of obnoxiousness as it becomes clear the director has put all his eggs in this basket. The ballet section drags on laboriously and while Gene Kelly does things most people can only dream of over the course of it, the scene itself suffers from over-opulence and packs WAY too much forced symbolism into a small frame, none more glaringly obvious than the separating and re-joining of one of Jerry’s sketches that has been ripped up and blows carelessly about the stage.

Upon completion of the ballet, Jerry is shown standing conspicuously alone atop a stairway as Lise suddenly comes running up to him. The reunion of the two is swirled in a string arrangement of Gershwin’s “An American in Paris.” The main problem with this ending is that, for at least 50% of the characters involved this is not just an unhappy ending, but a devastating one, though all of the classic symptoms of a fairytale ending are present.

Despite all of the bad things I can say about this movie, it is not by any means bad. I can find no fault in the production quality itself and DEFINITELY none in the music. Many of my favorite Gershwin pieces appear in the film (“I Got Rhythm,” “S’Wonderful” and “Love is Here to Stay” to name a few). What really prevents “An American in Paris” from knocking it clean out of the park is simply the fact that Hollywood had not yet mastered the art of a musical film. There are lengthy periods with no song-and-dance numbers and points where so many are crammed together in a row that they are not able to stand on their own.

#69. Shane (1953)

When “Brokeback Mountain” came out, I remembered telling everyone who was opposed to it “all cowboy movies are gay, at least this one is honest about it.” And with a very few exceptions this has been my philosophy on westerns as a whole. I have just always had a problem with the Neanderthal attitude of them; with men’s men, women who do as they are told and the term “yella-bellied” is enough to make a rational person kill a man.

There are so many elements of the traditional western that are still present in “Shane” but in many ways this film turns the stereotypical western film upside down. It is the third film on the list by director George Stevens, who’s 1951 film “A Place in the Sun” has gone from a movie I have never seen to my favorite movie since beginning this project a few months ago. It is a weird feeling to have high hopes and low expectations pinned on a movie at the same time.

An archetypical cowboy named Shane (Alan Ladd), complete with buckskin jacket and white-handled six-shooter rides onto a small family farm. While initially just passing through, he stops to drink some water and converse with the father Joe and his young son Joey who is in awe of Shane. He learns that all the local homesteaders are especially cautious of anyone passing through their claims due to increased hostility from the cattle barons who are attempting to drive all the farmers off the local spreads in order to monopolize the entire frontier.

With no real direction and seemingly determined to outrun his mysterious past, Shane stays on with the Starrett family where he and Joe develop an almost brotherly relationship (including one very telling scene with no dialogue where Shane and Joe smile approvingly at each other after successfully remove a stump Joe has been trying to get rid of for some time) Joey’s idolization of Shane increases the more hesitant Shane is to discuss his life and Joe’s wife Marian and Shane have little verbal communication but are frequently shown glancing at each other while conversing with Joe. While it never seems flirty or out of line, it does come across as inappropriate at times.

Shane visits the local General Store/Saloon which is mostly filled with partisans of the dominant local cattle king, Mr. Ryker. The locals have gotten used to being harassed by Ryker’s thugs, but Shane is unaware of how bad matters are. After taking repeated abuse from the hired goons Shane walks away, which actually shrouds him in more mystery. By not taking the bait and engaging in the fight it is assumed that either Shane can’t handle himself or that he is going to great lengths to show some restraint. In a later encounter with the same group, Shane reveals that it is in fact the latter, as he soundly hands about 5 guys their asses. When Joe joins the fight the pair appears to be unstoppable, and in a shot almost identical to the one involving the stump, the two silently smile and nod to each other before finishing the fight.

The use of silence to convey emotions and interpersonal connections is a brilliant and recurring tool used in “Shane.” Not only does it leave a level of ambiguity as to the nature and depth of the relationships between the characters (particularly the repeated shots of Marian and Shane looking at each other) but it also stays consistent with Shane’s character, he is not talkative or open about his past, thus he would probably not be overly expressive with his feelings.

Conversely, Joey, who of course does not have the verbal filter of an adult freely lets his adoration of Shane fly from his mouth. In addition to speculating about Shane’s ability to fight, he flatly asks Joe if he thinks Shane will teach him how to shoot. Joe offers to teach him himself but Joey dismisses the proposal, assuming that Shane must be a far better gunman than his father. What you have to keep in mind is that at the time this film is set (the height of the westward expansion) that the ideal hero for a little boy was the quintessential cowboy- as described in novels and games of Cowboys and Indians. To have a “real” cowboy plopped right into his lap, complete with the mysterious past, would have been like setting a superhero or a ninja down in front of a modern-day child. So even though it is flat out disrespectful to his upstanding and respectable father, one can hardly blame Joey’s wide-eyed idolization of Shane.

The relationship between Shane and Marian begins to manifest itself in conversations between her and Joey, who can’t stop praising Shane. At one point Joey asks his mother if it is ok that he loves Shane almost as much as his own father, not only does this not even faze her, but she actually concedes that it is in fact ok, all the while admiring Shane. The other is perhaps the most blatant showing of emotion we see from anyone in the film as she tries to convince Joey that he shouldn’t get too attached to Shane, because at some point he is going to leave. While saying this to her son, she is clearly projecting her own emotions as she fights back a slightly teary warble at the notion of Shane no longer being a part of the family’s lives. Marian is lecturing herself every bit as much as her son.

”Don't get to liking Shane too much...I don't want you to...He'll be moving on one day, Joey. You'll be upset if you get to liking him too much.” (Marian Starrett, “Shane”)

Tensions between Ryker and the homestead farmers reach a breaking point when buyout offers are refused, intimidation tactics fail and even an example-murder of one of them doesn’t scare the settlers off. Joe prepares himself to go into town to kill Ryker and almost surely be killed himself as Marian pleads with him not to go. It is at this point that the lines between honor and jealousy become blurred. Joe reveals that he knows Marian has feelings for Shane but also confirms that he understands neither of them had acted on them. As a result, Joe feels the need to prove himself to his family every bit as much as he is simply compelled to do the right thing by killing Ryker. Joe’s determination only intensifies when Shane offers to go in his place.
Solely out of love for his friend, Shane does everything he can to physically prevent Joe from certain death. The fistfight that ensues between the two is one of the most artistic and beautiful ever filmed. The two silhouetted figures are backlit by a gorgeous full moon as they significantly crash into the stump the two friends removed together. While it still remains upright it wobbles and shifts in an obvious metaphor of Shane and Joe’s relationship at that moment. In a final act of desperation, Shane uses the butt of his pistol to knock Joe out. While this brutal and underhanded act is done as a last ditch effort to save Joe from death, Joey only recognizes it as a cheap shot on his own father which knocks Shane off the pedestal the boy has elevated him to since first laying eyes on him.

Shane rides into town, vanquishes the evil-doers and makes amends with Joey, who has followed him to the fight. As the two engage in an emotional goodbye, Joey begs Shane to stay. Even though he still looks up to Shane, it is in a more familial way now rather than wanting him there as a mentor. However, Shane has suffered a gunshot wound in the final battle and, while never said, it is implied that he is dying. He rides off into the moonlight (again, the opposite of what every other western crams down our throats) as Joey calls out to him to “come back.” Which of course could mean to literally come back, or, as children who don’t fully grasp the concept of death might say to someone who is passing on, more of a “please don’t die” sort of cry.

There are so many things I appreciate about “Shane” which also illustrate that not every western has to be a testosterone fest. Characters can express real emotions other than anger, people who chose to walk away from fights can still be tough and most importantly while people may not be able to control their feelings, they can still be in control of how they act on them.

#70. The French Conncection (1971)

One of my personal goals along the way as I blog about these films is to make sure I at least devote 1000 words to each one just to make sure I am giving plenty of analysis and commentary as well as to try and cover all the bases. In the case of “The French Connection” you have no idea how badly I just want to type the word “shit” one-thousand times and be done with it.

Whenever I mentioned to somebody that I was going to be watching this movie, their response was always “ooh, car chase scene.” I am positive this is the case because the car chase scene was the most interesting part of the movie. And I am pretty convinced that this scene is actually not even all that exciting, it’s just that the rest of the movie is so slow and terrible that this scene seems very thrilling by comparison.

Gene Hackman and Roy Scheider play Popeye Doyle and Cloudy Russo, a pair of bumbling New York narcotics officers who are obsessively trying to track down the go-to-guy between drug pushers in Brooklyn and a mysterious source in the French port city of Marseilles. Part of their obsession can be traced back to the discovery that Doyle and Russo haven’t had a significant drug bust in years. In addition, every time they act on one of their ill-fated “hunches” the suspect turns out to be perfectly clean.

”You put a shiv in my partner. You know what that means? God dammit! All winter long I gotta listen to him gripe about his bowling scores!” (Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle, “The French Connection)

Their iffy-at-best detective work turns up a world of shady Italian fronts, wealthy Jewish drug dealers and some African American pill-poppers. Essentially every ethnicity is depicted as having some hand in the drug trade- and Popeye never misses an opportunity to point out his distaste for pretty much all ethnic groups.

I know the depictions of New York City ghettos are meant to serve as a “gritty” backdrop for this film, but it winds up being too repetitive a theme as there are several minutes in several different scenes of foot pursuits from slum to slum. With New York, there are endless possibilities that could make a police cat-and-mouse type movie interesting, ferries, crowded streets in shopping districts, traffic-jams, skyscrapers and elevators- but no, save one scene where Popeye loses a suspect on a subway, the pursuits all take place in grungy, deserted backstreets.
After screw up after screw up Doyle and Russo are taken off the case to find the French Connection (I just love it when a movie title makes sense ;)) and a dejected Doyle goes back to his now oft-depicted drunken haze. When a sniper who is as bad at sniping as Doyle is at life botches a hit on Popeye, the big dramatic chase scene begins.

There are so many things wrong with the vastly overrated car chase that I don’t even know where to begin. The French assassin hijacks a rapid transit train while Doyle hijacks a civilian’s car in order to chase the train from below. Not only is a car vs. train chase absolutely pointless, but it is completely unbelievable. The notion that Doyle would be able to find a lengthy stretch of traffic where he could pursue an elevated train is laughable- no bridges or waterways? Construction zones or dead-ends? If the commuter train just follows the flow of traffic why have it? Not to mention the fact that there is only a minimal level of swerving involved for Popeye to keep up with the train for the entire length of the chase. I don’t know when New York streets were so abandoned but I guess I am expected to believe that New York didn’t become heavily populated til sometime in the 1980’s. The chase scene culminates with Doyle killing the would-be assassin- again, in a completely isolated and empty part of the city.

Now, maybe I just misunderstood this part of the movie or maybe my amateur police knowledge isn’t what I thought it was, but I can’t piece together why Doyle and Russo subsequently get assigned to staking out the car that is suspected to be the mule car despite having been removed from the case. At first I assumed it was because they were playing Renegade Cop and doing the opposite of what they were supposed to, however, as soon as they decide to move in and confiscate it they have a whole barrage of police at their disposal.

While the car is being searched Doyle shows us the first indicator that he might actually be a competent officer by discovering the entire stash in the car’s rocker panel, despite having been told by the NYPD’s Main Guy Who Takes Apart Cars Looking For Drugs (I am not going to be so self-righteous that I am going to pretend to know the actual name of the position, or google it and make it look like I knew all along what I was talking about) that the car was as clean as it was the day it came off the assembly line. Almost like that, Doyle has immediate access to an entire SWAT team as he sets up a blockade to trap the now identified go-between Henri Devereaux immediately after the deal goes down. A shootout ensues in, you guessed it, another abandoned neighborhood. Apparently Doyle and Company are as good with guns as they are general police work, because the entire crew not only lives, but manages to walk away with little-to-no jail time, as we learn via copout epilogue.

As I have said in numerous blogs before, the best kind of protagonist is the kind who is flawed, but shows signs of good. Popeye Doyle has absolutely no redeeming qualities thus making it very hard for you to pull for the guy at any point in this movie. He is a racist, a drunk and completely inept at his job, which is the kind you definitely SHOULDN’T be inept at. Also, they don’t explore this fully, but I think he has some kind of creepy shoe fetish that isn’t discussed. When Russo comes to his apartment he sees Doyle has several pairs of women’s footwear on his floor, and in a later scene, Popeye is completely unaware of the world around him as he looks at the trashy boots of a woman he sees while on patrol. I know this kind of subtle indication is usually used to help us get into the mind of the person in question, but in this case I’m glad it wasn’t explored further. Whether or not Popeye is a pervert or a cross-dresser, I could care less.

I don’t want to be so general as to say that “The French Connection” was boring, but immediately upon conclusion of the film I understood what it must feel like to be the victim of some type of sadistic and inhuman torture, as once I realized the movie was over, I felt like I had just outlived every kind of punishment that can be inflicted on a person. This movie insults my intelligence, bores me almost literally to tears and steals time away from me that I can now never get back unless I make significant lifestyle changes.

#71. Forrest Gump (1994)

I have always had a love/hate relationship with “Forrest Gump.”

When I first saw it in theaters I completely tuned it out when Forrest’s best friend Bubba was killed in Vietnam, citing the Def Comedy Jam staple of “why does the brotha always have to die?” Since that time I have seen this film quite a few times in fragments but haven’t watched it start to finish in quite some time until it came up on this list. I am able to appreciate it more now than in previous years but I am also able to notice its flaws as well.

Tom Hanks basically reinvents himself as an actor in this film, despite having turned out his first good role a few years earlier in “Philadelphia” this was really the film that dictated the direction his career would head. He absolutely nails the part of Forrest, a mentally-challenged Alabaman who winds up living an extraordinary life that included meeting 3 Presidents, being a war hero and even teaching Elvis to dance, largely indifferent to his surroundings due to his level of cognition. He treats meeting Presidents, becoming a celebrity spokesperson and receiving the Medal of Honor as commonplace because he has no reason to believe his life is any different than anyone else’s.

The most interesting thing about the characters that Forrest comes into contact with is the fact that they are unconsciously able to relate to his status as a societal minority. His earliest friend and love of his life Jenny is a woman in 1950’s Alabama, his battle-buddy Bubba is a young black man during the civil-rights movement and, upon returning home from Vietnam his friend Lt. Dan Taylor is a disabled societal castoff.

There is also conscious and unconscious exploitation of Forrest’s good nature on differing degrees from the various people in his world. His mother convinces him that it is ok to lie for the sake of money when he is reluctant to endorse a ping-pong paddle. Bubba needs someone else to go in with him to purchase his coveted shrimping boat so he taps Forrest for the partnership despite Forrest having no skill or interest in said trade. Lt. Dan keeps Forrest around for his ability to push his wheelchair and make his life more convenient but in all honesty it is just as likely he just wants the company.

However, nobody is a bigger user, and with more cold motives than his beloved Jenny. The way she strings Forrest along repeatedly in the film and comes and goes from his life as she pleases and as it benefits her makes her probably the most malicious character in the film. Ironically, the most selfless act she commits is the one that seems to be the most questionable. When she asks Forrest to marry her after finding out how wealthy he has become, it seems like very exploitative timing, however it becomes more and more evident that she is desperate to find someone who can take care of her and Forrest’s son after her inevitable death.

There is, albeit an implied commentary on American society in this film that is very important to mention. While the levels are differing, the “bad sides” of the characters are exposed in one way or another except in Forrest. It is sad but true to think that the only people who are seemingly incapable of hurting other people is the person with the developmental disability.

A consistent theme in the narrative of “Forrest Gump” is the use of heavy implication without actually coming out and saying certain things. Forrest talks about how Jenny’s dad “was always kissing and touching her and her sister,” His mother tells him his father is “on vacation” to explain his absence but never says if he ran away, died or never really existed in the first place and when Jenny reveals that she has “some kind of virus” which eventually kills her, it is a safe assumption that it is AIDs, but we can’t be sure. In doing so, not only are we left wondering about the gravity of what is being described, but also it is just ambiguous enough to where we understand the things being talked about are bad, but not sure how bad, thus we have the same level of understanding that Forrest does.

” This is a new company record! If it wouldn't be such a waste of a damn-fine enlisted man I'd recommend you for OCS! You are gonna be a general someday, Gump!” (Drill Sergeant, “Forrest Gump”)

I know this film was intended to be very inspirational, but the one sequence that makes me stand up and cheer above all others is a brief back-reference to an earlier scene. When describing Bubba’s family’s back-story Forrest mentions that several generations of Bubba’s family had been servants for white people. After Forrest donates Bubba’s share of his fortune to his mother, an incredible scene results where we see that she has her own white “slave” to wait on her, and her the view outside of her window reveals a spread far more opulent than anything any of the other white people who had previously “employed” her family ever attained.

Of course, I can’t summarize/praise this film without mentioning the special effects. The way Forrest is transposed into footage of JFK, Dick Cavett and the iconic de-segregation of the University of Alabama is practically videofied Photoshopping. Also, the way Lt. Dan’s legs are digitally removed really goes the extra mile, as any other movie would simply have just filmed him from the waist up or the waist down. It is a credit to this film that these amazing special effects can still be amazing but not take the focus off the movie itself.

There are things about this film that I intensely dislike is the unrealism of the dialogue. It is forgivable with Forrest for obvious reasons, because he wouldn’t talk like a normal, well adjusted adult- and even when people talk to him would be understandable because they feel like they have to talk to him like a child. However, even the communication between the other characters is incredibly hokey and the communication with Forrest is even worse.

My other biggest complaint about this film is, ironically, something that I tend to go apeshit for in most other movies: symbolism. The use of symbolism is done so obviously and so dumbed-down that it actually loses its effectiveness. The most obvious example of this is the feather that floats carelessly in the breeze both at the beginning and the end. What could have been a metaphor for the whole movie- and something that everyone could interpret to mean something else, instead, by having Forrest talk about how his mother says our lives are similar to an object floating around on a breeze takes this right away from us and tells us what we have to believe.

The other most overblown use of symbolism is the metaphor of birds and flight representing our souls. When Jenny and Forrest are hiding from her angry father she prays to be a bird so she can fly away from her situation as a flock of birds flies away from her house. No less than three more times, including two implied suicide contemplations, Jenny speaks about being able to fly and, eventually, when Forrest talks to her grave another flock of birds flies off, as if her soul has been carried away. This final reference to this comparison could have been so powerful had it been a solitary and subdued bird- instead it is a loud and almost aggressive swarm that makes sure it is idiot-proof enough for a mainstream audience to “get” and still feel intelligent.

As is the case with anything else, when something becomes TOO much a part of popular culture then, through no fault of its own, it becomes played out. It happened with “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” it happened with “Yada, yada, yada” and more recently it happened with Kanye West’s infamous “Yo, Imma let you finish…” Perhaps the most overly referenced movie in the last 20 years has been “Forrest Gump.” Who hasn’t shouted “Run Forrest, Run!” at a particularly ridiculously attired jogger? Do you know anyone named Jenny who you haven’t referred to at least once in a delayed “Jen-ney” cadence? I didn’t think so…

#72. Ben Hur (1959)

Imagine being persecuted, even enslaved based on your cultural background. Your best friend turns on you because of your ideological differences and your mother and sister are imprisoned in such deplorable conditions that they contract leprosy. Once you have endured that kind of suffering and discrimination, how do you show that you are still proud of your heritage and steadfast in your beliefs? If Charlton Heston has anything to say about it you convert to Christianity.

“Ben Hur” is either the most elaborate recruiting tool for finding Jesus or just an extremely overproduced period piece. Don’t get me wrong, the visuals are stunning and the story itself is told very well, I just have a hard time being preached to without getting a little defensive about it.

After a short prologue depicting the birth of Jesus (which includes possibly the hokiest looking Star of Bethlehem ever committed to film) we are introduced to the main antagonist, Messala, a Roman warrior and Judah Ben Hur, a Jewish Prince. The two are old friends and haven’t seen each other in years and Messala has adopted a rather Anti-Semitic view since having become a militant leader. Shortly after Messala’s return and initial dialogue with Ben Hur we are also introduced to Esther, the daughter of one of Ben Hur’s family servants whom he is clearly in love with and vice-versa, despite her impending arranged marriage- more on that dynamic later.

There is some initial tension between the two as they bicker over their views, but it appears that their longstanding friendship still comes first. Messala later reveals his true colors though when he has the opportunity to clear Ben Hur of a made-up charge of attempted assassination of a Roman governor. Instead he allows Ben Hur, his mother and sister to be imprisoned.

After escaping captivity following years on a slave ship, Ben Hur befriends a powerful Sheik who takes note of his keen ability to race his prized Arabian horses. The two devise a plot to not only make an ungodly amount of money, but also for Ben Hur to exact his revenge (and set up the film’s climax); participation in a chariot race. At first he dismisses this idea, as the humiliation of losing to a Jew is not vengeance enough for Ben Hur, until the Sheik reminds him that there are no rules inside the arena of chariot racing; on other words, this would be the only way to kill Messala and get away with it.

”One God, that I can understand; but one wife? That is not civilized” (Sheik Ilderim, “Ben Hur”

The stakes are raised considerably when Ben Hur learns from Esther, who’s arranged marriage has been called off, leaving her free to declare her love for Ben Hur, that his mother and sister died in prison. The truth is that they contracted leprosy and have been banished to “The Valley of the Lepers” but have begged Esther to tell him they died so that he can remember them fondly. Ben Hur is now going into the race thinking that his former friend has killed his family in addition to enslaving him. Time to flip the disc… because the movie is THAT long!

So anyway, now that the race is about to start we see that Messala also has every intention of someone dying today as he has rigged his chariot up with retracted blades on the wheels. The chariot race sequence is packed with symbolism: from Ben Hur’s horses and chariot being all white while Massala’s are red and black, the color shared by all evil things from the Third Reich to the Slipknot logo. Also, Messala mercilessly whips his horses and other competitors; Ben Hur doesn’t even HAVE a whip. The horses Ben Hur has trained jump over the other drivers who have fallen out of their chariots, Messala’s roll right over people and kill them. The dichotomy of Good Vs. Evil is depicted in such cut-and-dry terms during the Chariot Race that it borders on clichéd, but the subtleties are subdued just enough to not make it look like an old west gunfight between a guy in a white hat and a guy in a black hat.

To a lesser but still important extent this part of the film also depicts the complete contradiction in characters between the two. Not just Messala’s cruelty but even when Ben Hur manages to disarm him, it doesn’t even occur on him to turn the whip on Messala. After the race, when Messala has been trampled by several horses on the track, we see genuine concern on Ben Hur’s part. As he lies in a medical tent dying, Messala seems as though he is going to reach out to his former friend, who appears more than ready to reciprocate. Instead, in one last act of spite, he reveals the true location of Ben Hur’s mother and sister before cowardly escaping into death.

It is at this point that the film begins to unravel and the true agenda becomes clear. Ben Hur is reunited with his mother and sister despite their pleas for him to stay away. He recalls a meeting he had while still enslaved with a mysterious carpenter/preacher who saved him from death. He also hears Esther refer to a similar man who gave a sermon on the side of a mountain where he spoke of miracles, forgiveness and righteousness. They go in search of the magical healing man to have him cure the Hur-women’s leprosy. However, they arrive too late as he is being sentenced to death in a public tribunal. It looks as though they may still be able to receive his healing touch as he falls in front of them while carrying a large wooden cross, but he is just out of reach.

Something I was able to appreciate about this section was the fact that the crucifixion is shown rather vaguely but without losing any intensity or sense of the level of brutality. I have a feeling that if this film were shown side-by-side with “The Passion of the Christ” in an effort to convert potential Christians, “Ben-Hur” would be much more successful, if nothing else just for the fact that it doesn’t make you wince or guilt trip you while pushing its agenda on you… it just pushes its agenda on you, though to the film’s credit, they never once refer to the man being killed as Jesus Christ- the closest they come is referring to him as “the young Rabbi from Nazareth.” In doing so they succeed in two simultaneous tasks:

1) They manage to avoid any possible outcry of blasphemy by not saying they are outright depicting the events of the Bible

2) The way the Jesus-character is shown keeps a strong air of mystery about him. There is never a frontal shot, an angle of his face and certainly not a close-up. By doing so they keep the film’s depiction of Jesus as mysterious and ambiguous, thus not necessarily forcing the story on us as truth.

Scenes of Jesus’ blood falling to the ground and flowing into the streams as a first dark, then joyous and sunny cleansing downpour indicate the changes to the world in correlation to the crucifixion of Christ. As Ben Hur rushes home to tell his loved ones about the miracle he has just witnessed he discovers that his mother and sister have been cured of their leprosy and everyone lives happily ever after.

Now, I am not speaking from my personal religious beliefs here, as I believe that even many Christians would take exception to the notion that the sacrifice of Christ somehow cured the world of ALL its ills. “Ben Hur” would have you believe that all the suffering and pain in the world was somehow cleansed following the death of Jesus, which obviously, Christian or not, isn’t the case.

Perhaps the most universally insulting element of “Ben Hur” is the way everyone’s religious faith seems to be loose. Ben Hur has suffered incalculable persecution due to not just his religion and heritage, but his refusal to abandon them, yet converts to Christianity seemingly on a whim. Even the Sheik sweeps the differences between Muslims and Jews under the carpet to form an allegiance seemingly for the benefit of monetary gain. It would be nice to think that the film is attempting to depict people of many faiths and backgrounds bridging their cultural gaps, but the ever-present theme of how good comes to everyone who believes in Christ just make the movie’s objective very clear- therefore I at least can’t fault “Ben Hur” for a lack of transparency.

If you can overlook all that stuff, or if you generally don’t mind being brainwashed, “Ben Hur” is actually a fairly enjoyable film. Cinematically it is practically flawless. The scope of the set designs, particularly in the arena for the chariot race and the depth of detail in the Valley of the Lepers are remarkable and, while ambitious, exceed any and all expectations of people hoping to see a film that is as big as its production cost. Even the performances are exceptional; though Charlton Heston’s constant crying at the drop of a hat makes me feel like I am watching Glenn Beck.

#73. Wuthering Heights (1939)

I know it’s called the “AMERICAN Film Institute’s 100 Years-100 Movies” but everything about “Wuthering Heights” is decidedly British. An all English cast starring in a film based on a Brit-Lit classic and set in Yorkshire, UK. The most English thing about “Wuthering Heights” though is the drama.

The film is based on a classic novel which I won’t pretend to know anything about. Laurence Olivier (years before he was knighted) plays Heathcliff, a man who takes a desperate border stranded in a blizzard into his manor, known as Wuthering Heights. Heathcliff is shown to be very brooding, curt and generally dark. Though he addresses a woman who is said to be his wife, their interaction is limited and callous and it is assumed that she is definitely not the love of his life when Heathcliff, seemingly in a trance calls out into the blizzard to a woman, proclaiming “she has come back!” This odd behavior and the stunned border’s reaction set up the flashback narrative that follows, with the housekeeper explaining Heathcliff’s bizarre actions.

This type of introduction both helps and hinders the way the story is presented; on one hand flashback storytelling is a great way to introduce us to a seemingly one-dimensional character or set of characters and subtly peel back the layers to reveal a complex and multi-faceted being. However, if something is too overstated, as is the case at the beginning of “Wuthering Heights,” then the journey is almost spoiled as we already know what to be looking out for now and that the story will be filled with tragedy. The cries of “She has come back” make it pretty clear that there is going to be a lost love involved, and Heathcliff flatly telling the stranded border that Wuthering Heights is a lonely place where his only company is his dog further illustrates the divide between he and his wife.

However, even in spite of these possible missteps “Wuthering Heights” is so amazing that it doesn’t even matter or even hurt the story. Now THAT is good filmmaking!

Many, many years prior, Heathcliff was brought to live with a well-off family whos patriarch found him abandoned in the streets. The man explains to his son Hindley and daughter Cathy that the boy will be raised as one of them and even tries to instill values in them by explaining that their good fortune obligates them to share with their fellow man. Cathy has no problem subscribing to this mindset, to the point that she considers Heathcliff her best friend. Of course, Hindley has a different opinion of things, as he suffers from a severe case of the “I, my, me’s” and never misses an opportunity to remind Heathcliff that he is a “gypsy begger.” In a brilliant and chilling use of foreshadowing, Heathcliff vows revenge on Hindley for his terrible mistreatment of him- vowing to pay him back no matter how long it takes.

The forebodings of things to come do not end here, as perhaps the most important scene in the film unfolds. Heathcliff and Cathy are innocently playing atop a rocky hill overlooking Wuthering Heights as the two children, partially in the context of playing and partially from the heart declare their love for each other. In the midst of Heathcliff declaring Cathy his “queen” she begins to fantasize not about their lives together but of all the possessions Heathcliff would shower upon her in their fantasy world. Over the course of their lives the two share many more emotional moments atop their cliff, but they are never quite enough to convince Cathy that social standing is irrelevant compared to undeniable love. Because of this, she marries a wealthy man named Edgar, who’s homestead The Grange is everything Wuthering Heights is not: It is filmed in bright lights with high ceilings, elaborate décor and ethereal white tones- in contrast, Wuthering Heights is always poorly lit with large but confining rooms and its inhabitants are always dressed in black.

The powerful and ingenious irony being that, in this dark and dreary place, both the house itself as well as the cliff that represents so much of their life together, Heathcliff and Cathy experience the only moments of true happiness their lives will ever see, and though The Grange represents the life Cathy has forsaken Heathcliff for, there is nothing but sterility and depression in the opulent white palace. Cathy comes to this realization in a remarkably well-shot sequence where she verbally acknowledges that the two are soulmates and that the only joyful moments she has ever experienced have been with him “our souls are the same… I AM Heathcliff.” As this line is delivered a massive crash of lightning explodes outside her window, illustrating that this realization is dark and grim rather than romantic and joyous due to the fact that the choices she has made are irreversible.

Fast forward later in life: Heathcliff is finally successful, so much so that he has bought Wuthering Heights from Hindley, who has racked up too much debt to keep the house in the family any longer. Heathcliff exacts his revenge not by throwing him on the street or forcing him to live in the stables as he had once been forced to do by Hindley, but instead by keeping him in the house. By constantly reminding him that the house is no longer his and that Heathcliff’s charity alone is the only thing keeping a roof over his head Heathcliff shows signs of both humanity as well as sadism. This sadism reveals itself in a much darker and cruel fashion as Heathcliff’s master plan begins to unfold.

”Ask your husband to call another doctor in future. Whoever dwells in this house is beyond my healing arts.” (Dr. Kenneth, “Wuthering Heights”)

Driven more by his love for Cathy and seemingly by some degree of insanity, Heathcliff spitefully marries Isabella, Edgar’s sister. Cathy insists it is to get closer to her and tries to talk Isabella out of it, Edgar is more concerned with the fact that he was not born into nobility and Isabella herself convinces herself that he does love her, only to find that the remainder of her life will be lived in her sister-in-law’s shadow. This shocking character turn not only shows a dark side to a previously fault-less protagonist, but more importantly illustrates the unreasonable and unhealthy extremes love can drive a person to. Though his decision is a callous one, the argument can be made that Heathcliff is at least attempting to settle for a wife as close to Cathy as he can have in her absence, while the sympathy for Cathy is never really as strong because the choices she made were done so from placing her social standing above her own feelings.

As the housekeeper concludes her anecdote for the stranded guest, we find out Heathcliff has gone missing, venturing out into the blizzard looking for Cathy’s ghost which he frantically claimed to have seen at the beginning of the film. The final shot shows two blurry and glowing figures, Cathy and Heathcliff, walking hand in hand to their cliff overlooking Wuthering Heights. This ending pulls off the nearly impossible, as the lead character dies, his wife is left heartbroken but the conclusion is a happy one as Heathcliff and Cathy’s souls are now finally at peace.

“Wuthering Heights” spends the bulk of its runtime preparing you for dark and heartbreaking tragedy, and in the end what you get is a far greater and far more realistic love story than you will ever find on the “Staff Picks” shelf selected by a girl named Tiffany who dots the “I” with a heart at your local video store. This film is like the concept of love itself; it puts you through the gamut of emotions from butterflies in your stomach to being completely gutted. And isn’t that really what life is all about?

#74. The Gold Rush (1925)

Remember the diner scene in “Benny and Joon” where Johnny Depp uses the forks and rolls to make a set of legs and feet and makes them dance? The movie I will be blogging about today is the movie that this bit was stolen from back when it was performed by a relevant actor.

“The Gold Rush” takes Charlie Chaplin’s Little Tramp character out of his normal street-urchin element and plants him in the Alaskan Klondike at the height of the 19th century gold rush. This is the perfect foil for a convincing change of scenery for The Tramp- he can still be his optimistic, always trying to get-rich-quick self, but have a fresh new backdrop and new opportunities for comedic scenarios. In his later films Chaplin took to making bold and unapologetic political statements, thus in many ways “The Gold Rush” represented the passing of the torch in his films.

Lost in the vast nothingness of the Yukon The Tramp wanders into the cabin of a murderous fugitive Black Larsen. Larsen’s attempts to throw him out are thwarted by the powerful outside winds blowing The Tramp back in the door. The wind also brings in another unwanted guest- Big Jim McKay who has just found “a mountain of gold” near the cabin. The storm gets so bad that the three are awkwardly confined to the cabin for days. The need for food forces Black Larsen out into the storm after he draws the deciding low card from the deck. As The Tramp and Big Jim continue to grow more and more desperate for food Black Larsen stumbles on two Marshalls who are pursuing him who he promptly kills, taking refuge in their campsite. He also stumbles on Big Jim’s claim and proceeds to plunder it.

Meanwhile, back at the cabin Big Jim is so overcome with hunger he begins to hallucinate that The Tramp is a chicken. In an effort to stave off their hunger and potential cannibalism, they cook one of The Tramp’s shoes for Thanksgiving Dinner. This makes for one of the most famous comedy sequences of all time as the shoe is divided between the two men. The Tramp makes the most of a bad situation by pretending the nails are bones and eating the leather off them like meat. The laces are transformed into spaghetti, which, while hilarious, does remind me of a similar gag in “City Lights” which was a couple movies back on the list, where The Tramp is at a party and eats a streamer off his plate believing it is spaghetti- while it is a different gag I know Chaplin’s comedy is better than having to recycle bits.

”Chicken or no chicken, the little fellow looks appetizing.” (Big Jim McKay, “The Gold Rush”)

And of course it wouldn’t be a Chaplin film if there wasn’t a girl involved. This time it is Georgia, an employee in the dancehall at one of the many gold rush boom towns. When he first meets her she is embroiled in a fight with the local “ladies man” Jack. It is ambiguous if Jack is just trying to make a conquest of Georgia or if they have an on/off relationship: either way she looks right through The Tramp, both literally and figuratively until she is so determined to make Jack jealous that she dances with The Tramp simply because he is the most sorry specimen in the joint. Even though he has just been unwittingly used The Tramp bravely stands up to Jack in a hysterical fight scene culminating with him wildly swinging at a wall, knocking a clock down and subsequently cold-conking Jack with it.

The Tramp is now more determined than ever to strike it rich in hopes of winning Georgia’s heart. The scenarios that lead up to and follow these events create little nuances that speak to the Tramp’s character. No matter how cruelly Georgia uses or ignores him, he still pursues her and welcomes her into his life with open arms, but not to the extent that would make you think he is a sucker, just a romantic. Even when he is cramped in the cabin with Big Jim, he is the one who offers up his shoe for a meal, and his other one when things turn REALLY desperate. Even in a dream sequence when The Tramp imagines a New Year’s Dinner with Georgia and her friends he envisions himself giving elaborate gifts to everyone, not just Georgia.

The other character who is given a particularly impressive level of depth is Georgia herself. At first she seems like just a one-dimensional, shallow flapper-girl. We see her internally struggle with her complete lack of feelings for The Tramp but also her sympathy for him. She also is susceptible to peer-pressure, as her friends encourage her to lead him on for the sake of a joke though it is evident every time she turns her back to her friends that she is torn. At one point she opens up to another girl about how she just wants to meet a worthwhile man, which indicates that she is anything but a gold digger since she is so dissatisfied with Jack, who clearly appears to be well-off.

Perhaps the most telling indication of Georgia’s true personality comes at the end of the film. Setting sail away from Alaska her and The Tramp are unknowingly on the same ship- The Tramp a success, her a failure. When The Tramp is mistaken for a stowaway Georgia offers to pay his fare, despite the fact that she clearly is not in a position to do so and, as far as she knows, The Tramp is in no position to pay her back. This selflessness finally creates an undeniable common thread between the two and completely redeems her earlier wrongdoings.

“The Gold Rush” isn’t as “important” of a film as “The Great Dictator,” nor is it as deep a movie as “City Lights” but what it lacks in substance it makes up for in memorable sequences. The eating of the shoe, the Dance of the Dinner Rolls and the amazing physical comedy demonstrated in the climactic scene where Big Jim and The Tramp are trapped in the cabin as it teeters back and forth on the edge of a cliff have become Comedy 101 mainstays.

I’m sad to say that “The Gold Rush” is the last of the Chaplin films on the AFI List, but it is almost a blessing as far as the credibility of my blog is concerned. I can only pretend to be objective about so many movies and I think the 3 Chaplin films and “Frankenstein” fills my quota.