My Favorite Movies: City Lights (1931)

During the silent era of Hollywood, there was a great demand for comedy, particularly of the screwball variety, usually involving lots of visual misunderstandings and chase scenes. Charles Chaplin, Buster Keaton, and Harold Lloyd are regularly recognized as the three masters of that genre during the period. There is usually a great debate amongst critics as to who was the greatest of these artists. The general consensus is usually that Chaplin played things too schmaltzy to be even compared to the incredible Keaton. Chaplin also has his supporters, though, who defend his attempts to provide meaning to his misadventures. Often, Lloyd gets simply forgotten about, but that’s for another day.

I try not to take any sides on this argument, because each of these men were geniuses and they each have wonderful movies to back them up. Of all of the comedies released featuring them, however, my favorite would have to be Chaplin’s City Lights. Although to call it a comedy almost does it an involuntary injustice, making those unfamiliar with the material imagine a bunch of ridiculous buffoonery.

Ridiculous buffoonery has its place, a little of it being in this very movie, but this is actually a very serious movie accompanied by its share of laughs. You see, Harold Lloyd was the everyman, Buster Keaton was the stuntman, and Charlie Chaplin was the romantic. His films would often try to pull at heartstrings even before tugging at the funny bone. His The Kid, for example, left more laughs off the screen then any of his movies, shooting instead for a completely tragic style of storytelling.

City Lights blends the drama and comedy together better than any other attempt of the time. The story has Chaplin’s famous nameless Tramp character encountering a poor blind girl played by Virginia Cherrill. Although the Tramp is equally as poor, he has an accidental millionaire friend who gives him anything he wants while drunk, but does not remember anything when sober.

The scene when the Tramp first meets the girl and buys a single flower from her is the heartbreaking chord that resonates through the rest of the film. He does not realize she is blind at first, and when she drops the flower she is handing him, he picks it up, while she slowly stoops down and begins searching for it. The look on his face at this realization mirrors what we are feeling  for this poor girl. The Tramp falls quite in love with her and begins seeing her under the guise of a gentleman, using the millionaire’s resources, of course.

Chaplin was a great actor as well as a great director. He knew when he needed to be in the spotlight stealing the show and when he needed to submit to the camera for the greater good. The Tramp is not in every scene, with Cherrill getting more screen time than you might expect. Her performance is just as endearing as Chaplin’s, which is a good thing since the whole film depends on her making us feel for her situation.

This movie was meant as an inspiration for those, like the characters in the film, who were still suffering from the Depression. It is also a very defiant film since by 1931 everybody had already converted to talkies, while Chaplin was the only big artist who stuck stubbornly with the notion that silent films had greater artistic quality than the more vulgar show of sound. I applaud his decision, as this story very much benefits from the silence, although appropriate score and sound effects were added in.

At the same time, I am glad that Chaplin did eventually make the shift to sound, because a movie like The Great Dictator wouldn’t have worked without it. You can see him beginning to budge a bit even in this film, with the scene in which the Tramp swallows a whistle being a perfect example. The sound effects added make the scene even funnier, with that little tweet of Chaplin’s hiccups being used to great effect, like accidentally hailing a cab and attracting every dog in the vicinity.

What struck me the most in re-watching City Lights is how charmingly innocent it all is. There is a scene where the Tramp winds up in the middle of a rather wild party, where a girl in a slip is dancing on a table amongst other tomfoolery, and he seems completely oblivious, happily munching on finger food with his back to the world. Another moment finds him taking only two drinks and becoming completely drunk, going so far as to eat the long strings of confetti at a restaurant thinking they are part of his spaghetti.

The Tramp is, after all, a child-like character. Look at the scene where he alludes the millionaire’s butler, runs into the house, and jumps into a tall chair, kicking his feet merrily. His complete devotion to the blind girl, even when aware of the possibility her love may not be returned when she discovers who he is, is heart-warming and refreshing. It kind of makes you feel good to see true, honest people portrayed on the screen as heroes, especially during a time when gangsters and monsters were beginning to be idolized as screen stars.

The best moment in the film is at the very end when the Tramp has been released from a year-long prison sentence after being accused of stealing a thousand dollars that the millionaire had given him. Before his arrest, he had been able to give the money to the girl to get her eyes fixed, which she does. The final scene has him absently walking past her new flower shop, and she eventually realizes who he his. It’s a wonderful moment that must be seen rather than described. Some say it’s corny, just like everything Chaplin did. I say it’s one of the most perfect moments in American cinema; closing out one of the best pictures ever filmed.

My Top Ten Movies of 2012

I wrote a few months ago that 2012 was an average year for movies and it was. I have seen about a third of the 300 or so movies released last year, and of those I only truly enjoyed a handful. But that handful of movies was so great that they made wading through the rest of the year’s crap worth it. Below you will find my top ten favorite movies of the year. Note that a few of these are not necessarily what I would list as the best. These are the movies that had the biggest, most positive impact on me during the year, and they come with my highest recommendation. Also note that a few of these movies are ones I haven’t written proper reviews of yet, if I do at all. The last few weeks have been incredibly busy and my writing may continue at this slow pace for a while into the new year. Anyways, here they are.

#1: Moonrise Kingdom I have been asked why I love this movie so much. I have responded, “How can you not?” Wes Anderson’s latest film is a masterpiece of color, humor, quirks of all kinds and true originality. It is an exercise in cinematic creativity, and if it conforms to any recognizable rule of the movies, I didn’t notice. Even its critics can’t deny that it is at least different. I haven’t seen anything like it and even after several viewings in the past six months it still amazes me. It has quickly become an all-time favorite.

#2: Cloud Atlas Nobody will argue that this was the most discussed and debated movie of the year. In less than three hours, it tells six stories spanning multiple centuries, all told at the same time and starring the same actors, sometimes in roles of different race and sex. I’ve tried to avoid calling it complicated, but it certainly is complex. What it achieves in pushing the boundaries of how complex film can get and still be comprehensible and entertaining is miraculous. Never mind if it tested people’s patience in the process.

#3: Argo Say what you will about Ben Affleck’s abilities as an actor, there can no longer be any question that he is a great modern director. This, his third and best film, is an incredible piece of entertainment mostly because it has a great story that is told with passion and intensity, the very area in which most thrillers seem to struggle. It has impressed me most by holding up immensely well after repeat viewings, never losing any of its charm or impact. If I had to pick an unbiased, all-around best movie of the year, this would be it.

#4: The Master This was one of my biggest “wow” moments of the year, and yet I never told a soul to go watch it. For me, it inspired great feelings of admiration and love for its purely cinematic style. In others, it seems to inspire nothing but confusion and hatred, even if it does have an incomparable performance from Joaquin Phoenix. Besides the controversial allusions to scientology, it features some truly depraved characters who do despicable things, and it is not a pleasant experience. It is uncompromisingly brutal and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

#5: Les Miserables After many years of waiting, the fans of this beloved musical finally got the movie it deserved. Helmed by Tom Hooper and featuring a mostly stellar cast (Who told Russell Crowe he could sing?), the movie’s splendor meets and surpasses all expectations. In addition, it is a masterpiece on a technical level. With all the singing recorded live, the actors are free to continue acting through the songs, rather than adding a barrier between them and the audience with phony lip-synching. Add to that beautiful cinematography and a heartbreaking performance from Anne Hathaway and you have an event not to be missed.

#6: Flight This is one of those star vehicles that actually deserves its star and vice versa. Denzel Washington has already repeatedly proven himself to be one of the best actors of our time, so I shouldn’t have been surprised by how awe-inspiring his performance is here. Assisted by a great supporting cast and powerful lead, Zemeckis’ movie is an inspirational story unlike any you may have seen, mostly because it keeps its inspirations to itself. It is a sometimes uplifting, sometimes down and dirty and always completely captivating movie.

#7: Skyfall Action movies so rarely contain anything much more meaningful than a chase and a shoot-out that you can imagine my shock when the latest James Bond film is genuinely good. It is a great action movie wrapped in a great drama, headlined by moving performances from Daniel Craig and Judi Dench, an insane turn from Javier Bardem and meticulous direction from Sam Mendes. Alternately exciting and moving, it has all those things a Bond movie should have, yet with that dose of humanity that a great movie should have.

#8: Django Unchained Quentin Tarantino is one of my favorite directors because his movies never fail to surprise me. His latest, a story of racial revenge in pre-Civil War America, is no less surprising than his others, but in a surprising way. It is relatively normal. The movie is carefully paced and almost entirely straight-faced, taking its time to tell a sincere story that would have become campy in different hands. Christoph Waltz, who stole the show in Tarantino’s last film, does so again here, and Leonardo DiCaprio gives a performance of startling maturity.

#9: Lincoln This historical epic seems to be the popular favorite of the year for both critics and audiences, and why not? Steven Spielberg has always been able to rope in his viewers more consistently than any other director that comes to mind, and this film is no exception. Daniel Day-Lewis plays the famous president, an ever-present symbol of Americana, less as a historical angel and more as a humble and flawed, but nevertheless powerful, presence. The movie is unendingly entertaining and enlightening, even when dealing with material with which every American is familiar.

#10: Looper In yet another example of a fascinating movie that could have all too easily been bogged down by its own excitement, this thought-provoking time travel flick frequently avoids the temptation to skip over story and character specifics and jump straight to action. Besides the fact that it has the guts to be a major motion picture starring Bruce Willis that has only a fraction of its time devoted to typical mindlessness, it is also an extremely well-written thriller that is almost guaranteed to raise at least a few questions. Joseph Gordon-Levitt also stars in yet another smartly-picked role on an already impressive resume.

Honorable Mentions: Amour, Bernie, Compliance, The Impossible, The Invisible War, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Safety Not Guaranteed, Seven Psychopaths, Silver Linings Playbook, Wreck-It Ralph

Life happens.

Oh, the holidays. They’re always so dratted busy and I never get anything done that I’d like. For example, I’ve seen five new movies in the past few weeks and haven’t written a word about them. However, it’s better to be late than never or whatever, so here is one word about each of those movies I saw: Killing Them Softly, Life of Pi, Lincoln, Red Dawn and Rise of the Guardians.

The best of these, or at the very least the most popular, is Ang Lee’s adaptation of the ever-popular piece of literature Life of Pi. It is mostly the story of a family moving from India to America, whose ship sinks leaving the young man Pi as the sole survivor. He lives on a lifeboat and raft, which he dangerously shares with a vicious tiger, for an extended period, and he narrates the film as a middle-aged man telling his story to a reporter. I hate to say it, since the film will most likely be considered one of the best of the year, but I didn’t enjoy it as much as I assumed I would. I found myself losing interest during large chunks of the story, as much as I tried not to. The trouble stems from the somewhat unnecessary length of the mid-ocean isolation scenes, which suffer from a lack of any emotional or visceral interest. The film is a success regardless, mostly because Lee is a great storyteller and his movies never fail to be visual treats. Despite my personal reservations, it is still an easy recommendation.

 

Next, my favorite of the five, is Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln, a film which has garnered considerable discontent for being exactly what it sounds like. People like to be entertained and Spielberg remains one of the greatest cinematic entertainers still active in the industry. It shouldn’t matter that he also enjoys giving history lessons. This Lincoln movie doesn’t cover any new territory, touching on questions of politics, slavery, war, etc. But it does so with a surprising bluntness not usually seen in pictures about immensely respected figures of Americana. People don’t want to hear that a great president only accomplished great things by bending the rules, even if it’s the truth. This Abraham Lincoln, as played by Daniel Day-Lewis with a brilliant and controversial aloofness, is not portrayed as a flawless saint, but as an imperfect man just trying to do what’s right. This is one of the most potentially accurate historical depictions I’ve ever seen in a film, and that makes it fresh enough to be considered great.

Being the only holiday movie released this year, and a darn good one at that, Rise of the Guardians gets a high recommendation for family viewing this season. Based on a series of popular children’s books, it tells the story of how a group of the most legendary figures in young people’s myths, Santa , Jack Frost, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and the Sandman, join together and ward off the Boogeyman who wants to turn the world into a giant nightmare. As silly as it may sound, the movie is anything but. Told with a refreshing sincerity and whimsy, this is the sort of movie that is so bright and creative that it deserves to become tradition. The movie offers nothing more than fluid computer animation and a good time, but if a kid’s movie isn’t going to teach anything, it should at least make an effort to unlock the true imagination parts of the brain. Rise of the Guardians is imaginative and then some.

 

Killing Them Softly is the new gangster drama that just opened a few days ago. It stars Brad Pitt as a man hired to kill the men who robbed other men of their gambling money. That’s all that happens, which is likely to disappoint the film’s target audience who want action and plenty of it. This movie has extremely graphic violence, but focuses its attention more on the people than on anything, and there’s lots of talking. That would normally be a good thing, but the talking in this movie is just talking. Nothing that is said is very profound, memorable, or informative and none of the characters are particularly interesting. I saw the movie, which was written and directed by Andrew Dominik, as something like a student film with a budget. Pitt is joined by Richard Jenkins, James Gandolfini and other great character actors who perform admirably, but just don’t have anything to do in a movie that has plenty of style and no drive. Its biggest success is in the fascinating sound editing, which nobody will probably notice.

Finally, we come to the atrocious remake of Red Dawn, which all of my faithful readers have already guessed I’d hate well before they read this sentence. It is the very example of the type of film I truly loathe. It is wholly unnecessary as a rehash of a movie only twenty years old and not very good to begin with. It exists for extended scenes of running, shouting, shooting and blowing things up. In case there are any of the producers who have money to burn on these things reading this, here is the opinion of this average viewer: I DON’T CARE!!! I am never, no matter how snazzy the production values, going to like a movie where action trumps story, where glaring and screaming take the place of acting, or where the best the writers can do is, “Let’s drop this mother f-bomb.” That is an actual quote. Please go see Lincoln.

My Favorite Movies: The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

John Steinbeck’s arguably greatest and also most controversial novel, The Grapes of Wrath, was bound to become a Hollywood classic at some point. The fact that it would be so at such an immediate point, considering some of the book’s content, is a bit surprising. Just one year after Clark Gable shocked the world by saying “damn” in Gone with the Wind, this movie was released, based on a book with a record number of profanities and other lewd material. The book was an angry morality tale; a visceral first-hand look at an era mostly ignored. The movie turns this into one of the most inspirational of films. It was a great feat of screenwriting.

Henry Fonda may be my favorite actor. He was not one to give performances in the sense that he would act big in the traditional Hollywood manner. He was a far more natural presence. Reportedly, he was so self-conscious and introverted that he refused to play roles that required him to be a “hero.” In The Grapes of Wrath, he nevertheless embodied one of the greatest film heroes.

Tom Joad is an angry man. He dotes on his good mother, referred to only as Ma Joad in the novel and film, who insists that he do his best not to lose his temper and risk going back to prison. Watch the scene where Tom hitches a ride home with a truck driver, who asks a string of increasingly personal questions. Observe that Fonda doesn’t noticeably build in his anger. It just gets released in one big gust. Notice Tom also has a certain sense of humor when, as he leaves the truck, he grinningly reveals why he was in prison: homicide.

Even as an angry man, Tom is a great hero for two reasons. He does his best to keep his violent nature locked up and he does what he knows is right whenever possible. In some cases in this film, that means doing what is wrong in the eyes of the law. Such were the times this movie depicts. When done wrong, and the people in this film have been done very wrong, their answer tended to be to shoot the one responsible. However, the deeds done here were not accomplished by individuals. There’s a moment where the man informing a family that they have to evacuate their home before it gets torn down informs them of the chain that goes back several people. Nobody is to blame, he argues, it just happened.

At one point, a gas station attendant watches as the Joads drive past, remarking that they can’t be referred to as human beings.

“Human beings couldn’t stand to be that miserable.”

We watch in similar horror as this family to whom we have become so attached goes through all manner of misfortune and discomfort. They lose their house like everyone else, family members die off, some run off, they barely make it on the gas and money they have, they’re treated like dirt, and ultimately, Tom becomes wanted for murder.

I used to call this the saddest movie ever made. I now consider it more hopeful than tragic, but be sure there are some poignantly bitter moments. The image of Ma sadly going through her box of various knick-knacks and burning most of them is one of the most hauntingly sad moments in film. In fact, there’s a strange sadness in general to Jane Darwell’s beloved performance. She is so easily associated with mothers everywhere and as such, seems to spend most of her time in worry. There are moments like when Tom first comes home and when they actually reach California that make you feel weirdly joyous, as if your own mother were crying tears of joy.

Despite some of the film’s great sadness, there are also the counter-attacks of hope. A scene that always stands out in my head is the one where a waitress, who was fairly uncaring at first, sells one of the Joads a loaf of bread and afterwards two nickel candies for a penny. There are good people scattered a bit in this otherwise dreary world, including the almost freakishly perfect campsite the Joads find by the film’s end. If all good things come to those who suffer, this cheerful outcome is well-deserved.

This all leads to the two fantastic, beautiful scenes that end the film. First, Tom discovers that the police have found him in the camp and mean to arrest him later on, so he decides to leave. Ma stops him on his way out and he convinces her that he must go for the good of the family. He gives a very plain, down to Earth speech that becomes surprisingly moving in its delivery. It also becomes memorable in its context, implying that he knows he couldn’t last long on the run and that death is imminent.

“I’ll be all around in the dark. I’ll be everywhere, wherever you can look. Wherever there’s a fight so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there. Wherever there’s a cop beatin’ up a guy, I’ll be there. I’ll be in the way guys yell when they’re mad. I’ll be in the way kids laugh when they’re hungry and they know supper’s ready. And when the people are eatin’ the stuff they raise and livin’ in the houses they build, I’ll be there too.”

It gets me every time, even if it sounds corny on paper. Then, there’s the very last scene when Ma, apparently newly invigorated by Tom’s speech gives a brief one of her own. She says that the Joads can never be beaten because they’ve become strong in the battle. Thesemoments are perfect endings to a movie that, under the careful direction of Hollywood legend John Ford, makes no mistakes. Especially at the time, it couldn’t have ended in the same shocking way the book did, but the results are nevertheless extraordinary. The time that The Grapes of Wrath depicts is essentially behind us, but the film is timeless.

My Favorite Movies: Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

British director David Lean is best known for his enormous epics like The Bridge on the River Kwai, Doctor Zhivago, and A Passage to India. His most famous work is probably Lawrence of Arabia, which is also arguably his best picture. Years before he ever made his “big” movies, he had made small, relatively quiet ones like Brief Encounter and his Dickens adaptations Great Expectations and Oliver Twist. Lawrence of Arabia, I think, combines these two sides. It is a big film to be sure, but it is also a quiet deconstruction of human emotions, particularly when it comes to our more violent sides.

After the success of The Bridge on the River Kwai, Lean looked for the subject for his next epic and initially selected the life of Mahatma Gandhi. The story of T. E. Lawrence, though, probably seemed like a more personal solution. It seems to me that it would be easier to criticize the life of an already controversial political figure, then that of a beloved religious one (Although, it was later proven that the only good way to make a movie about Gandhi is to leave all criticism at the door.).

Oddly enough, the movie about Lawrence sparked more controversy than the man himself did. Many felt a movie would not do the guy justice, especially if it went too deeply into the more, shall we say, crazy sides of his character. Actually, all speculation about the errors of the film’s presentation of the man was not so much a problem as the film’s small dismissal. It did do good critical business, even winning the Academy Award for Best Picture, but many audiences and critics were not so enthralled by this sprawling drama, which contained no big stars, no women, and no traditional thrills.

This was, after all, an era dominated by the new discoveries of film-making without boundaries. The French New Wave was already beginning to reach America, and we were testing our own limits as far as content and delivery were concerned. Then here comes a movie that is content to be traditional, with a style and a story more akin to the popular epics of the 50s then with the movies that were currently in fashion.

Regardless of all this, Lawrence of Arabia did do good enough business initially to be remembered, and it is now recognized as the masterpiece it is. There is nothing wrong with movies that set out to be awe-inspiring. David Lean could have made Lawrence on a Hollywood set, but he wanted to shoot in desert locales such as Jordan and Morocco, alongside some scenes shot on British sets. The desert scenes, and most of the movie takes place in the desert, are extraordinary for the very reason that they are genuine. The realism of the scenery and the dramatic way in which it is used make the film so much more impressive then if it had been simply created on a green screen.

Take Omar Sharif’s first appearance. We can barely see him at first. He is riding a camel so far off in the distance that he is simply a black speck. Lawrence and his guide stand perfectly still watching the black speck grow larger and larger. Finally, the guide realizes that offence will be taken at their having drunk from the well they are resting beside. He makes a mad dash for his gun and is shot by Sharif, who has now entered our reasonable view.

This is just one example of the superb way in which the vastness of the desert is used in subtly thrilling ways that other directors would not have had the patience to attempt. Other images, such as the long line of camels solemnly marching across the enormous landscape, the immense battle scenes using hundreds of extras, and the actual exploding of a train (similar to what was done in River Kwai) all showcase Lean’s incredible aptitude to present us with the things he knows will wow his audience, who he clearly knows very well.

As I said earlier, this is not only a movie of splendor, but it is also a deep character study about a real-life man whose image may have been very recognizable for a time, but who was not really known so well as a person. Peter O’Toole stars in his first role as this interesting individual, and it may just be the highlight of his entire career. It is only right that his image is immediately associated with Lawrence’s. His character is immensely proud and patriotic, as well as supremely confused and down-trodden.

Watching the movie, one can see his slow emotional downfall. At the beginning, he is a quiet, clumsy person whose most outrageous action involves burning his fingers to prove that he can endure the pain. When he is sent out into the Arabian desert, he feels he must constantly overcome his tame British origins to better the lives of the desert’s inhabitants. At first, he becomes a respected leader. He then gets such a very big head that he decides he is some sort of prophet and that he is going to take over the entire country single-handed, losing all of his closest allies in the process.

O’Toole’s portrayal in the second half of the film is one of the film’s highlights. From the time that Lawrence absently admits to having enjoyed carrying out an execution, we know that this is an unstable man. The moment in which he officially cracks is during a battle that he has begun unnecessarily, in which he runs around, with insanity all over his face, randomly slicing people with his sword. This insanity is never really cured, and the film ends with his being more or less dismissed from any kind of authority by his country, and the last shot shows him simply contemplating his great failures.

The film actually begins with his death via motorcycle accident, followed by the funeral full of people who don’t really miss him. This is actually a case in which it was alright to show the end at the beginning, a device of which I’m not usually fond. This is not a movie in which the ending could be a real surprise, so it is instead the intensity and power of the images and emotions that drive the story. I certainly am glad it was made when it was, because new Hollywood conventions couldn’t have made it any greater.

Lawrence of Arabia does remain a very powerful movie. Watching it in 2012 sparks comparisons to the big political leaders of our modern world and starts to make you wonder how long it will be until they have their own inevitable downfalls. Above all, I still consider this one of the most beautiful movies ever filmed and it will never fail to take my breath away.

With its new high-definition restoration, the timeless images look even better than before. Whether seeing it for the first time or the twentieth, on a big theater screen or a big small screen (A phone is not an option for a movie of this scale.), there has probably never been a better time to experience this great masterpiece. Do so.

My Favorite Movies: 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

2001: A Space Odyssey is just the sort of movie that general audiences can’t stand for one second, while movie snobs spend great quantities of time ranting about how good it is. I guess I was born to be a snob. I still remember the first time I saw this movie. I was very young and had no idea what most of it meant, but I found it genuinely intriguing. It really stuck with me and it is still a movie that I will watch on a regular basis, every year or so.

Having this film on disc is like miraculously having the gift to revisit those dreams that you remember so clearly, but wish you had more time to really figure out. I have seen the movie so many times that I sometimes fall into the temptation of just sinking into it. I more often watch it as a spectacle than as a parable. It is a miraculous achievement because of how strongly it speaks to us, and how different what it has to say has become. Ignoring the intellectual side of the experience is just as bad as avoiding it entirely.

Film director Stanley Kubrick and author Arthur C. Clarke agreed at some point that they needed to collaborate on a project that would highlight both of their strengths, and what better way than with a science fiction story. The original intention was that they would both share in the creating of a book and movie of the same story. Both names still appear on the film credits as authors of the screenplay, but the book is simply Clarke’s, in the same way that the movie is entirely Kubrick’s.

I believe the title was selected to impose a familiarity with Homer’s The Odyssey. This odyssey is just as profound as the classic, just this time in the exploration of outer space and its limits, as well as a study of the great conflicts of humanity. The film is divided into four separate segments that are just as important as a whole as they are individually.

The first section is titled “The Dawn of Man.” It is the part of the film most commonly referred to in complaints that it is boring. The usual argument is that a bunch of monkeys sitting around and screaming for fifteen minutes not only does not make riveting cinema, but is also irrelevant to the rest of the film. If looking at the early scenes on the surface only, I could understand this logic, but this is not a movie that can be watched only on the surface. I disagree with the film’s detractors because this section is vital to the understanding of the rest of the film.

It does not matter whether or not you believe in the theory of evolution, which you shouldn’t because it’s stupid. However, within the reality of the movie, evolution happened. It does so with the assistance of the Monolith, a mysterious, large metal object that seems to silently encourage the pre-human apes to become more violent in their way of living, which provides them with meat and the establishment of authority for the first time.

It is important for the overall effect of the film to see these things occur, as a complete futuristic vision of how far mankind has come. The Monolith is also the most fascinating aspect of the film, as it leaves its three appearances, origins, and purpose a complete secret for the individual interpretation of the viewer. The book, however, is much clearer about the object and its extraterrestrial origin. The book cannot be used as the base for understanding the movie, though, as the two formats are completely different experiences.

What follows is the most incredible sequence in the film, which is what I call “The Dance of the Spaceship.” This segment is a montage of images inside and outside of a traveling spaceship, set to Strauss’ “Blue Danube.” The scenes included here are essentially the film-makers’ way of showing off the amazing special effects they have mastered. A pen floats seamlessly through the air. A woman walks on the ceiling. The spaceship itself seems to really be spinning in space. It is easy to believe that there are truly no strings attached. These scenes also establish the depth of imagination that went into creating this future, which is actually scientifically realistic and not as far-fetched as other science fiction epics.

We also have a clear connection to modern humanity to prove that we are still relatively the same. This is accomplished with two scenes of small talk and a video (“telephone”) conversation between a man and his daughter. This segment also confirms how audiences’ impatience is unduly given. Take the shot of the spaceship being lowered down into the space station. Yes, it is moving slowly, but this is Kubrick’s way of giving his viewers time to take in the world he has created. Notice all the little windows all over the station, inside of which can be scene tiny little people moving about. If all the trouble was gone through to make this simple shot look so realistic, the least we can do is watch and appreciate it.

Next, we have “The Jupiter Mission” which is the only part of the movie to have established main characters, through astronauts David Bowman and Frank Poole. It also has a plot, which begins simply with introductions to these men, their hibernating co-workers, and most importantly, the HAL-9000 computer. This machine is probably one of the greatest villains ever put onto the screen. It is embodied by a small red “eye” and communicates with the deceptively soothing voice of actor Douglas Rain.

HAL is a super-computer with complete control of the ship which has been specially programmed to have human emotions. This helps the two-man crew during their long voyage to have someone to talk to, but eventually leads to the nervous breakdown that could only have occurred to a computer with such a wide range of emotions to deal with.

HAL informs his crew that there will be an equipment malfunction, which does not occur. Since all of the 9000 computers have been completely perfect, the astronauts are not sure how to deal with it. They decide in what they think is secret, to turn HAL off. First, they play it cool and remove the “faulty” equipment. This is a lengthy scene, during which, the only noise that can be heard is the heavy breathing inside the astronaut’s suit. There is then sudden silence. He has been disconnected and is floating off into space. HAL has made his first move. Check.

Of course, the real question here is whether or not HAL is actually at fault. Shouldn’t the men who built the machine be to blame? In their desperate attempts at perfection, they created the monster. Perhaps, in a way, HAL only went rogue because of his programming. It was still basically a perfect machine, which is what made it so much more dangerous.

The final segment, “Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite,” is the most awe-inspiring portion, as well as the most befuddling. It begins with David Bowman, now the only surviving member of the Jupiter mission flying into the “star gate.” The images that unfold were intentionally aimed right at the viewer in order to provide us with a first-hand view of what the man is experiencing. What we see is incredible: explosions of color and waves of light flowing towards us in quick succession and glimpses of the surfaces of alien terrain, which are equally bizarre and stunning. Knowing what I experience watching this scene sober, one wonders what it must be like otherwise!

Ultimately, David arrives at his destination. He winds up inside a stately house and he changes perspective multiple times as he becomes older and older. The final shots of the film show him on his deathbed, reaching out to the Monolith, being transformed into a giant fetus, and hovering in space over Earth. I can only assume that the Monolith has now taken on the form of a divine being, putting into place the cycle of human life. Maturity leads to age. Age leads to understanding. Understanding leads to death. Death leads to life.

Honestly, I don’t actually fully understand what this final scene really means, but that’s the beauty of it. What most people don’t realize is that Kubrick has given us a gift by leaving the specifics to the imagination. Most people don’t like movies that refuse to explicitly explain themselves. It is movies like 2001: A Space Odyssey that enlarge our minds by freeing them of pointless explanations, instead of taking away our freedom of thinking by telling us what to think. That would just make us machines.

A great action movie. The sky must be falling.

I walked into Skyfall, the 23^rd (or 25^th if you’re a stickler) James Bond movie, knowing what to expect. I was aware of the praise being heaped on the movie by virtually everyone, but just couldn’t trust it. I have seen all the Bond movies of the past fifty years and they have each been virtually identical. The formula hasn’t changed since 1964 and it can be quite frustrating talking to a die-hard fan of the series, because I can never remember which movie was which, who was in it, or what happened. I will not have that problem with Skyfall.

This new movie has most of the things you would expect from a 007 picture. The opening sequence is a chase that involves riding motorcycles on rooftops and leaping onto speeding locomotives. This is followed by the opening credits which feature the title song, this time from Adele, and girls made of seaweed dancing around. Now the mandatory plot kicks in, though I honestly don’t remember the specifics of it. I know terrorism and explosions are involved.

Where things start to get interesting are in the early scenes with Bond himself. He is getting old. He is not able to pass a routine physical examination to see if he can continue in his crime-fighting duty.  Yes, James Bond is an immortal cinematic icon, but that doesn’t mean he has to be a mindless action figure. In this film, unlike any other, Bond is a human being, complete with shortcomings. He also has a past, a fact so interesting that I marvel that nobody thought of it before. Daniel Craig brings a reality to the character that is astounding in its freshness. It used to be that all you had to do to play Bond was look suave and run around shooting things.

Equally fascinating is the performance by Judi Dench as M, the leader of the British secret service who has always been involved in the movies, but at a distance. Now, this character too has a history that slowly unravels before us, though everything remains a complete mystery. M’s emotional connection to Bond is addressed for the first time and some Bond purists may whine that both characters have become too gentle because of these moments. I say that they have become real. The little clues we get about Bond’s childhood only make this relationship more obvious. Again, I am surprised that nobody else has noticed that mother begins with M.

These are the things that resonated the most with me and they are what make the movie memorable beyond mere action, but don’t worry. There’s still plenty of action and, for once, I was impressed. There are a few of the more ridiculous set-ups, like the opening, which are expected. However, most of the action scenes are surprisingly involving. There’s a particularly interesting fight that is staged almost entirely in silhouette and which contains more than one visual illusion that actually caught me off-guard (I can’t describe it any further. You’ll just have to see it.). Most wonderfully of all, the entire film was shot with a camera that stays steady and actually allows us to see everything going on. It is beautiful.

Even the series' usual sexism is handled in a less tasteless way. The primary Bond girl of the film is Naomie Harris who does not sleep with Bond, at least it isn't suggested onscreen, and her true identity brings her character a special significance. There is also Berenice Marlohe who plays a woman who has become a skilled actress in order to survive. It would be easy to mistake her performance as eye candy and let it go unnoticed. Pay attention. There's a lot more going on.

The villain is played by Javier Bardem, who approaches his role with a controlled mania. He comes across as overdrive on a tranquilizer and I thought he was marvelous. His introductory scene is timed with a unique precision. The scene takes place in an enormous room, which is framed by a very wide shot that doesn’t move as Bardem walks deliberately slowly towards the camera, making a speech that we may not have otherwise paid any attention to. Bond fans worried when Sam Mendes signed on as director here that he was going to avoid action entirely to make a big batch of Oscar bait. Instead, the result is a perfect blend of the exciting action fans wanted and the dramatic involvement the series so desperately needed.

I think a lot of times my friends get annoyed with me for disliking almost every new action movie that is released. I especially had trouble this year with The Avengers and The Dark Knight Rises, both of which I hated for the usual reasons. I don’t hate action movies, but I am not going to care about one that is action and nothing but action. Skyfall is a genuinely intriguing film because it gives us actually good reason to care about it and about these characters that have been so boring for so many years. Though I reserve the spot of my favorite Bond movie for Goldfinger, which remains a fun novelty, I truly feel that Skyfall is the best of the series, even to the point that I would recommend it be seen separately from the others. It’s in an entirely different class.