TITLE: Review: 2001-A Space Odyssey (1968) AUTHOR: Joe Johnson DATE: 9:37:00 PM ----- BODY:
Dir: Stanley Kubrick

Any movie that goes twenty-five minutes without dialogue or waits an hour to get to the central characters, seems like a formula for failure. A movie with angry evolutionary links jumping around with bones in their hands, looks like a failure. A space movie with lasers and battle, must be a failure. So why is Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey so successful?

I heard about this movie growing up and how my parents walked out of the theatre. And so when I finally got around to watching it, I wanted to finish - to prove that I was an intellectual, a conoseiur of films and could take whatever abstraction was being thrown at me. Having watched this a few times over the last decade, I'm continually surprised by how original, how unique this film remains. It makes me wonder what kind of person gave Kubrick permission to do this, because on paper it must have seemed like a complete mess. And that reminds me of another movie and how a studio risked everything based on the talent and reputation of a director: RKO and Citizen Kane.

This movie belongs in that conversation, on the same list with Citizen Kane, Casablanca, The Passion of Joan of Arc. And if you're trying to figure out why it works, stop. It's impossible. This film violates every rule but comes together with such precision and beauty that any attempt to emulate the structure is absolutely futile. It's like trying to remember why the Mona Lisa remains such a captivating portrait.

The story is confusing and abstract - something about a monolith that ushers humanity into evolutionary stages. And perhaps that isn't important, though there's an angle to the story that makes it feel as grand as the book of Genesis.

The central and most famous section of the film takes place aboard a space ship on a mission to Jupiter. It tells of the perfect HAL 9000 computer that starts to lose it's perfection. It develops a self-awareness that transforms into self-preservation, leading the irrational act of murder. It ultimately leads to the "death" of HAL. Not just the termination of a machine, but the death of an emerging consciousness. This section is so compelling. It's placed between the bookends of obscurity and silence at just the right time, cleansing the pallette for another exploration - this time for a special effects driven journey of discovery.

Like the rest of the movie, this third section shouldn't work, but it does. Perfectly. There are a few striking things about this movie aside from the atmosphere, pacing and vision.

The first is that the special effects have more accuracy and substance to them than nearly everything that has emerged from the cgi revolution. It reminded me of why it was possible to believe the original Star Wars trilogy occured in a real place. The new trilogy felt like light and pixels. The second is that, with the possible exception of Star Wars or Solaris, no one has improved upon this story or the sci-fi epic. Granted, the HAL storyline is ultimately a re-imagining of the Frankenstein legend, but very little of what Kubrick achieved forty years ago has been exceeded.

In an evolutionary model, Stealth, Electric Dreams, Terminator and perhaps even the Matrix trilogy, should have come earlier, leading to 2001 as the ultimate word on humanity verses machine, of mankind atoning for its own attempts to replace a creator god.

But this film, like Citizen Kane, was years ahead of the evolutionary curve - almost like an act of divine intervention.

***** of *****

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-------- TITLE: Archive Review: Casablanca (1942) AUTHOR: Joe Johnson DATE: 6:45:00 AM ----- BODY:
After reviewing Bogart and Bacall on our Howard Hawks WTD episode, I thought it would be worthwhile to look at another Bogart pairing from a few years earlier.

Dir: Michael Curtiz

Surely there are over-rated classics: movies that are listed as important but seem dated by contemporary standards. Casablanca is not one of those. It continues to stand as a fascinating piece of filmmaking that is safely positioned to endure long after most films of the twentieth-century drift into nostalgia and neglect.

At the beginning, there is little sign of the promise this movie holds. There are moments of cinemagraphic greatness, but nothing so stark and visual as Citizen Kane or a David Lean film. The opening titles and expositional voice over seem in keeping with small budget war pictures that were being pumped out of the studios during that time. But ultimately, this film is not about a beginning. It is about the ending.

The whole story primarily takes place at “Rick’s Cafe Americain” - the restaurant/club owned by Humphrey Bogart’s Rick Blaine. For drama, rather than draw in the establishing allure of the location, Curtiz relies on the sheer presence of Bogart and Bergman, and a beautifully composed supporting cast that includes Peter Lorre, Sydney Greenstreet and Claude Rains. Bogart is making his breakout in this role. He finds himself as the center of the entire story, being forced to confront a buried past and choose a side - not only politically, but morally. In the 100 minutes of screen time, we watch a man define himself.

Bogart is most convincing when he’s strong. The scenes in which he buries his head, apparently weeping, seem somehow overacted. But there is always a sense of power and weakness in Bogart. He is strong because he is unpredictable and angular though not physically overwhelming. There is also a desperation in his manners and stature. He could easily drift into being a pathetic man suffering from a mid-life crisis. Perhaps this makes his tenderness towards Ilsa some of the most dangerous work Bogart took on as an actor. It was a hint of what was to come much later in his career with his brilliant performance in The Caine Mutiny.

When first introduced to Rick there is a sense of new charisma and possibility entering the film, something Curtiz emphasizes by his gradual rising pan, tracing Bogart’s hands and moving toward his face. However, the real magic of the movie is Ingrid Bergman cast against him. She glows with a transcendent depth that makes the Moroccan context seem tame. In flashback scenes, she has a youthful luster that is almost a last chance to see her as girlish - something which will soon disappear in the darker roles that mark her later career. Bogart attempts to be carefree and passionate, but it isn’t always convincing. Bergman, however, appears to be in a very different place when we view her in the Paris flashbacks and the conflicted world of Casablanca.

The film grows in intensity, building to the famous ending that could have very well gone another way. But one almost has a palpable sense of danger as the Germans become more territorial and Rick realizes that there no one can save Ilsa and Lazlo but him. Rick is a man with a past and a story, apparently as a mercenary and warrior. But weapons have little place in this warfare, and it is only through diplomacy, deceit and desire that he can choose: to save a good man and lose Ilsa, or allow him to be arrested by the Germans and regain the happiness he knew in Paris.

Casablanca is nearly a perfect film. It is modest but satisfying in length. The characters are unforgettable and endearing without being typical or overly safe. Dialogue is simultaneously natural and poetic, and the story is as timeless as any told by Shakespeare. There is something about this film that could never have been predicted, and could never be duplicated. Casablanca is the convergence of story and talent, heart and ambiguity that forms a greatness far above all but a few films.

***** of *****

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-------- TITLE: Archive Review: Star Wars (1977) AUTHOR: Joe Johnson DATE: 5:13:00 AM ----- BODY:
Dir: George Lucas

It was easy as a boy to wonder how Star Wars was neglected for 1977’s Best Picture Oscar; how Annie Hall could have any legitimate claim in the face of this landmark epic. Of course, I realized later that great films—or at least Best Pictures—are not usually those which appeal most to six-year-old boys.

As I revisit this very familiar territory after a five year lapse, I am slightly more savvy. I can spot quality filmmaking much better than in younger years. I am no longer blown away, or even very interested, by grand spectacles like Men In Black or The Matrix sequels.

Perhaps to my surprise, Star Wars is truly a stunning movie. George Lucas, who has become more a video game visualizer than a movie director, actually seemed to have notable visual instincts and even an ear for dialogue. Lucas admits to drawing from Kurosawa, and that is part of his wisdom. That hint of eastern influence draws this very western story into a realm of metaphysics and ancient folklore. All other science fiction is about the future. Star Wars is about the past—like Greece, like Rome, like Noah or the Garden of Eden.

Lucas’ directorial style is invigorating. He uses appropriate establishing shots of fantastic space-scapes, but spends much of his time with characters in close shots. In this immediacey, there is something like Carl Dreyer’s Passion of Joan of Arc. The characters are shot to be more important to story and action than the visuals. Something that Lucas and many of his imitators seem to have forgotten.

The casting is fitting and exciting. Mark Hamill is the perfect embodiment of a restless farm boy, complete with a free California look with a subtle combination of aspiration and arrogance. Alec Guiness legitimizes the entire production, providing the gravity and age that lets us believe this is truly an ancient story. Harrison Ford has the charisma of Indiana Jones, with enough youth to cocnceivably be a rogue (and hide some flat dialogue delivery). Princess Leia is presented as the innocent, virginal princess, though Carrie Fisher gives her color with an appropriately biting wit.

The supporting ensemble needs little description, for they are now icons: R2-D2, C3PO, Chewbacca, Darth Vader, and even the enigmatic stormtroopers. Perhaps just as important, is the inclusion of the most memorable musical score in recent time. Or maybe it is the inimitable sound effects which color every scene.

It is, quite simply, impossible to see the summer movie season without being reminded of Star Wars’s influence. It is a cultural icon that permeates entertainment and marketing. Yet, behind all of the business and commercialism is a really good movie. George Lucas, to his credit as director and producer, created a brilliant and original masterpiece of modern cinema. So maybe I can still ask that question: “What was the Academy thinking anyway?”

***** of *****

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