'Brazil'

While watching this film, I wondering who was the richest, most successful member of the Monty Python troupe.

Graham Chapman died too early and didn't do much after the break-up. Terry Jones, too, hasn't done much. I would suspect Eric Idle and Michael Palin come next. Then John Cleese.

That leaves the soft-spoken, rarely-seen Terry Gilliam. The guy behind the animation from the Python sketches and films. The only American.

He's directed The Fisher King, 12 Monkeys, Jabberwocky, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Time Bandits and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

Add in the abandonment of the Don Quixote film and Heath Ledger's death during Imaginarium gives him a sort of mythic appeal, as if he's part of the mystic of film.

Furthermore, he turned down opportunities to direct Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and Braveheart.

I'd declare Gilliam the most successful, but there's nothing wrong with what the others have done with their careers. Gilliam happens to be a very good filmmaker. Brazil is just a bit of that success.

'Fat City'

Interesting tidbits about Fat City:

1. Stacy Keach in his role of "Tully" was well regarded. In the New York Film Critics Circle, he received multiple votes for Best Actor. At the time, the circle was a heavy influence on the Oscar voters. Keach, however, only got a few votes along with fellow contender Marlon Brando, in his role of Vito Corleone in The Godfather. The organization quickly changed the rules forcing the winning to get a majority of the votes. Neither Keach nor Brando could get a majority. The voters compromised with Laurence Olivier for Sleuth.

Both Olivier and Michael Caine were nominated for Oscars for Sleuth. Keach wasn't. And Brando took home the Oscar. Bottomline: Keach was screwed.

2. Brando was initially offered the role of Tully.

3. Beau Bridges was initially offered the role of Ernie. He declined and offered up his brother, Jeff. Jeff, of course, won the Best Actor Oscar this year for Crazy Heart. Beau is doing another episode of Stargate.

'The Bitter Tears Of Petra Van Kant' & 'The Marriage Of Maria Braun'

Two films from Rainer Werner Fassbinder, already reviewed twice before on this blog for Fox and His Friends and Ali: Fear Eats the Soul.

The two themes that combine all four of these films are loneliness and hurt. Both themes tied together under the umbrella of relationships.

Whether it's homosexual in nature, between people of different races and ages, between a manipulative woman and her lovers, or a battered old hag and her manipulative lesbian lover, Fassbinder didn't seem to see too much into relationships. And he was really unwilling to make anyone the hero, or good guy.

Bitter Tears ... and ...Maria Braun are particularly good bookends. Both feature manipulative and borderline sociopathic or sadistic women hellbent on hurting everyone in their path -- from daughters, husbands, former lovers and friends. Nothing will get in the way between them and a good screw. Whereas Braun set her sights on making money, there was still the inkling of insecurity. As if when she was at the very top, even she knew it was temporary or not real.

Petra Van Kant, on the other hand, was not on top and she knew it. There was one way up and that avenue was closed and there was nothing she could do about it.

'Pickpocket'

Pickpocket explores the oft-visited argument that certain people are exempt from the human laws that keep us from stealing from and killing each other.

People need money. Why shouldn't some other sap have it taken away from him or her in order to fulfill this need? There are worse arguments out there. At least once in all of our lives do we take advantage of a situation because we feel like we deserve it or it's someone else's loss, even if that someone is a major corporation.

I think pickpockets are neat. And it was fascinating watching our hero learn the tricks of the trade and practice them on chairs and tables in his apartment.

I think pickpockets have balls. If I'm in a big city, I'm always wary of pickpockets. I don't know if they even exist or exist enough for it to be an actual problem. I'd like to think that I would be aware if someone was sticking their hand deep into my pocket to steal my wallet or cash.

Then again, pickpockets wouldn't exist at all if they were unable to dupe a sap like me.

'Way Down East' & 'Intolerance' & 'Orphans Of The Storm'

While riding with a friend recently, he plugged in his iPhone and put his downloaded songs on shuffle.

One of the songs that comes up is Run DMC's "It's Tricky." I don't necessarily react, but my friend states that the group and, thusly, the song were relevent because they were pioneers of the rap or hip-hop genre.

I got to thinking about this. It's a common substantiation of particularly artists, that they were some of the first to do it therefore they are due some sort of respect or props for doing so. For essentially being at the right place at the right time.

Are Run DMC a better group because they were one of the first to perform rap at a high level?

Is D.W. Griffith a good director or just one of the first of the prolific ones?

I tend to believe he's the latter: Someone that was at the right place and the right time. The guy who invented baseball, but he was no Babe Ruth, Willie Mays or Frank Robinson.

Again, I'll be tickled pink when I'm done with these silent films. I've had enough. I've never seen someone say less in three hours than Griffith.

'Audition'

Truly one of the more grisly films I've ever seen. Makes your skin crawl.

I'm not alone. In screenings in Ireland, filmgoers apparently were passing out. Feminists have complained that the film backs up every female stereotype known to man.

Of course, you could take that criticism and turn it around and make the film itself a criticism of those same stereotypes. Art, it's fantastic!

The creepiest aspect of Audition is that this poor man is being physically and emotionally tortured, but that we don't know why he's being tortured like he is. Was it because he was attempting to meet a wife under false pretenses? If so, wouldn't that mean that just about every person with a penis should have his feet lopped off with a wire?

There's other forces afoot. Bad things happening to good people even if its unfair is understandable if there's some sort of reason. Because there is no reason, it scares you even more. Randomness ain't cool.

'Rosshalde'

Rosshalde, to me, is just another chapter in the literary transition of the turn of the century, provincial lifestyle, the rise of the middle class and the death of the mores that dominated through the beginning of the 20th century.

Rosshalde is no different from Howard's End or any other E.M. Forster novel or The Remains of the Day.

In this case, it's the dismemberment of the family establishment and the disenfranchisement of marriage. Veraguth's disillusionment of his marriage (and thus his older son, who he actually has entirely more in common with unlike the youngest, Pierre, who seems to despise art) and also with the provincial life in the country speaks volumes about the sea change in the way we see families and archaic ways of living through the middle of the 20th century.

Essentially, everything about the way we thought and felt changed. From the latter stages of the Industrial Revolution (mobility, communication), to civil rights, the Great Depression, the World Wars, the 1960s and the "flattening" of the world makes us currently completely unrecognizable to even someone like Veraguth and possibly Hermann Hesse.

'The Red And The White'

The quintessential anti-war movie. Proposed as a celebratory film for the 50th anniversary of the Russian Revolution, Miklos Jancso instead made a stunning, poignant film showcasing the pointlessness and barbarianism of war.

It's pure. Nothing else stands in the way of the futility of war. There are no characters to get attached to and no plot. The plot, instead, is war. Side A vs. Side B. Whoever kills the most wins.

Then again, nobody really knows who is on Side A and who is on Side B. I watched the entire film and never quite grasped who was who and who was fighting who. Or why.

The film is foreign and distant (literally and figuratively on both accounts), which supports the general idea that war is the dumbest thing ever.

Speaking of, you'd think warring sides would create different uniforms. The British had it right 200 years ago with the red coats. You'd never mistake that with the French, Spanish or Prussians. Without a doubt, I would end up shooting at someone on my side if I were in war. Too little time to decide because I'd rather it be them than me.

I would like to go back and talk with these different soldiers and ask them whether they would still fight if they knew A) that they would lose and it wouldn't matter that they died; or B) that fighting over an ideology or way of thinking was truly worth dying and killing.

We always go back to World War II: There was a real evil and a real threat. People signed up, fought and died to stop both. Noble? Maybe. Something worth dying for? Probably.

But look at the Russian civil war. Communists vs. Tsarists. One ideology versus another ideology. Thoughts, essentially, against thoughts. If a civil war took place every time to factions of people didn't agree, we'd be in perpetual civil war.

The Tsarists would lose the civil war. Communists gained control and ruled for another 80 years before capitalists wound up outspending them, Chernobyl happened and the regime fell.

Was it worth dying for those Tsarists in the first place. Was operating under an unfair totalitarian regime where you starved all that much more awesome than an unfair Communist regime where you starved?

For the Communists, knowing that within a short 80 years your form of government would prove completely bastardized and feeble worth putting your neck on the line?

I would most guys would've voted to stay at home.

'The Vanishing'

This film seemed eerily familiar, but I'd never seen it. So I dug deep and found that it's basically the same plot line to Kurt Russell's 1997 magnum opus, Breakdown.

I saw Breakdown in theaters and I thought it was pretty good at the time. Russell and his wife are driving across the country in a movie. The car breaks down in the desert. The wife hites a ride for help. Russell catches up to her, but she missing. Apparently all kidnapped.

In The Vanishing, the signicant other is captured just to be (we assume) raped and murdered by a college professor, who has more than a little set of problems going in his life.

The film actually focuses less on the couple and more on the murderer. It's a great little fictionalized peak into the world of a serial killer. Plus, it's French.

'Hombre'

Hmm. Another film that's better than The Sting, Cool Hand Luke, Butch Cassady ... and The Hustler.

My assertation has always been that nobody gave a hoot about Paul Newman until he died suddenly (to us, of course) two years ago. Once he passed, everyone was coming out of the woodwork to talk superfluously about all his great films. Blah, blah, blah.

Since, no one's said a word and I've gone on to watch half his movies.

Newman, it turns out, wasn't overrated. He was just being rated for all the wrong movies. Hud is still his best. Hombre has to be up there.

'Pat Garrett And Billy The Kid'

This would've been a great film if it wasn't for all the gosh darn Bob Dylan.

What a disaster. Any killer dramatic moments of the film were absolutely ruined by Dylan's music, especially the overplayed "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" ... as someone's dying. If you're going to use Dylan, don't use that song and don't use it during an actual dying scene. Filmmaking is supposed to be creative. Not done in a way that my three-year-old could do it.

Also, Dylan, as the actor, reminded me of Pee Wee Herman when he's cast in the film of his actual adventure. He's real still and oddly looking straight into the character and at the other actors waiting for someone to tell him he's doing it wrong.

They tried to force Dylan on us and I wasn't buying.

Otherwise, a brilliant film. Love the way Sam Peckinpah uses the earthy tones like brown and then put Kris Kristopherson in that bright, light blue shirt. It jumps off the shot. Just breathtaking. He'd do the same using the greenness of the trees, the blueness of the skies and, most notably, the redness of the blood.

Another fine point of the film is James Coburn's portrayal of Pat Garrett as a torn and broken man at home, in his business and in his heart. We're led to believe that Garrett is somehow the villian here. The problem with that assumption is that the good villain doesn't know what he's doing wrong. Or maybe he doesn't believe it's wrong.

Coburn's Garrett does, and its eating him alive.

'Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels'

I think Guy Ritchie is one of the top two or five most original filmmakers going right now. I'll even forgive his latest pursuits, including the ordinary Sherlock Holmes.

Between Lock, Stock and Snatch, Ritchie's created two of the most original and fascinating films in the past 15 years.

Why are they good? Watch them and tell me you can stop yourself from going into a British accent for the next 24 hours.

Tell me you could create characters such as Bacon, Soap, Barry the Baptist, Dog, Plank, Hatchet Harry and Nick the Greek.

Richie's innate ability to find these actors in his homeland that can absolutely kill every line and every scene. Kill it. Every time.

Even in his bad films, all you need to do is see a minute of the film and know it's a Guy Ritchie film. He found his voice -- that strain of storytelling that just about every artist that is living or has ever lived has tried to find or found. There' a handful of living film directors that have found their voice. Ritchie is one of them.

'Shaft' & 'Shaft'

Ironically, Shaft was based on a novel by a white journalist.

That's right. African American's biggest and best-known pop culture nugget is only in existence because some white, geeky journalist decided to write a book about a black detective. Named Shaft.

First Elvis Presley steals rock, then white culture steals Shaft.

Kidding aside, Melvin Van Peebles once noted that the original story was going to be a white detective. Instead, they decided to take the Shaft novel and turn it into a film after the success of Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song. Thus, Blaxploitation had its poster boy in Richard Roundtree.

Shaft isn't a bad film at all. Although I didn't get into Sweet Sweetback and I'm not particularly a fan of other Blaxploitation, this is a nice, short film. The acting isn't horrible and it does a great job in fully developing this man named John Shaft into a character that we still know little about other than he's a guy that always does the right thing and spends little time putting up with bullshit.

No mater our skin color, those are traits we can all relate to.

And, to top things of, we finally have a film where the soundtrack is better than the actual movie. Isaac Hayes' score and soundtrack is the pillar of mid-1970s funk and soul. It'd be good on its own. Put a film behind it and it's even better.

'Blue Velvet'

In honor of the late, great Dennis Hopper.

Typical David Lynch here. I don't get shocked at anything, but I would bet the rape scene was pretty hardcore for 1986. Along with the bugs and the robotic robins.

At what point will modern audiences not be shocked any longer? I think that threshold is closer than we think.

One motif of the film that I caught -- and that I haven't read about further -- is that of the human senses. Essentially how the five basic senses of touch, taste, hearing, sight and smell are taken away and all we are left is some alternate, odd reality.

For example, the body part Jeffrey finds in the field is an ear. Jeffrey's father employs a blind man at his hardware store. The way Frank vehemently inhales nitrous oxide through his nose (thus altering his existing reality). Jeffrey mentions the kid that had the enormous tongue. And I would interpret Dorothy's desire to be hit during sex as a sign that it's hard for her to feel anymore.

Then consider Jeffrey peering through the closet slits during the rape scene. Or when he can't hear Sandy honking the car horn when Dorothy returns. Or Jeffrey repeatedly commenting on how much he likes Heineken beer. All deals with the senses.

All of this had to be on purpose. Lynch in an interview mentioned that the film started in his brain with the lopped off ear in the middle of the field. Don't know if the other junk I noticed is real or just a coincidence.

'Meshes Of The Afternoon'

Experimentation has different meanings based on the medium.

Being experimental in literature or film typically means you're insanely long or insanely short, all the while, not making a ton of sense. Think "Meshes of the Afternoon" or most of Samuel Beckett's work.

Musicians have a different playing field. You can get as weird as you want in the recording studio, but in the end, those notes don't mean anything. You can't really misinterpret a note or sound. You can either not interpret it or interpret it. What John Coltrane or John Lennon does on their instruments does not breed revolutions or change minds. Record and release fart noises or highway traffic and that's experimental.

A musician can make a five-hour album of animal noises and it'll probably be terrible. Beckett or the avant-garde in film can do the equivalent and it be one of the films I need to se ebefore I die.

'Dr. Mabuse The Gambler'

There are 10 Dr. Mabuse films. This is the first. Luckily I only needed to watch one of them.

I'll certainly be thrilled when all of the three-hour silent films are out of the way because they are by a million miles the most difficult things to watch in the history of mankind.

'The Jerk'

I imagine there are funnier films out there. But it's a short list.

Few have put forth a comedic effort quite like Steve Martin does in The Jerk and he's never come close to replicating that effort.

Yes, there's the writing. It's perfectly irreverent without having to be Mel Brooks, slap you across the face.

Foremost, I think Martin's delivery clearly turns this into an instant classic in terms of comedies. The way he can distort his fact. The way he scampers around like a woman being chased by a bee as the sniper is taking out the oil cans ("Stay away from the caa-uns!"). His gawky, geeked-out way he danced on the disco dance floor.

Martin's character, Navin Johnson, makes you completely forget that he's a fictional character being created out of thin air by a comic genius. The way he lights up when he thinks something good is happening or his utter disappointment (like a kid seeing a puppy kicked) when he thinks something is going wrong. It was a role and an opportunity of a lifetime.

Moreso, I like the title. The Jerk. We often use that term for someone who is discourteous or mean. However, it's used here to describe someone who is clueless, foolish, naive and ignorant. Kind of an archaic denotation that couldn't describe Navin Johnson any more perfectly.

'Diner'

These coming-of-age dramas kind of wear me out. Frankly, I think they're kind of stupid.

For one, how old are these guys? I think they're supposed to be 21 or so. Guess what? You don't come of age at 21. If you don't have your shit together at 21, then you might want to get used to flipping hamburgers.

With that said, none of these guys seemed to have any real job. Mickey Rourke was the hairdresser. Kevin Bacon was a rich kid. Tim Daly was at least in college. What Barry Levinson doesn't go into is what these people are going to do for the rest of their lives?

Keep going to the same crummy diner? Keep getting in massive gambling debt and having it magically go away? Keep acting like the Fonz and banging on the juke box to get the music going?

The tagline to this film is "Suddenly, life is much more than french fries, gravy and girls."

Then, Mr. Levinson, what is it? Seems to me that these guys learned that they can still skate by no matter what happens.

Speaking of, what the hell happened to Mickey Rourke? Everyone else I could easily recognize. But Rourke looks like a completely different person. As if some time in the 2000s someone hijacked his body and took over.

He is by a million miles the best looking guy in the film and probably one of the top five best looking young actors in Hollywood. Today, he looks like a gay heroin cowboy.

'Storm Over Asia'

One of the major inaccuracies of this film (which is Russian) is that the British never invaded Mongolia.

Of course, the film focuses on a Mongolian herdsman who is thrust into a battle between the Russian and British forces as they angle for control of this region.

The herdsman is caught and executed by the British. But once they learn the herdsman is the descendent of Genghis Khan, they retrieve and rehabilitate the man to be the face of the British puppet regime.

Of course, the British were never around. The Russians were.

In 1928, of course, Russia was mired deep into an oppressive communist regime and were not allowed to make real films in lieu of propaganda. This film endears the Russian government to the indegenous peoples of their land, which is very diverse. Russia's a weird country. You don't get stuck on the Asian and European continents and not collect a diverse melting pot of people. Asians of mongoloid background are a large part of the Russian tapestry.

Maybe the Russians were trying to reach out to these people. Maybe they were just trying to run down the imperialist England and, in turn, Americans.

'Decline Of The American Empire'

I kinda wish I would've seen this film before its sequal, The Barbarian Invasions, which was previously viewed and reviewed here. I thought The Barbarian Invasions was a fantastic film and I had seen them sequentially I might have appreciated Decline a bit more.

Decline is about sex. While preparing for a dinner party, the men are together at the lake cottage talking about their sex lives. Their wives-girlfriends are at the gym doing the same.

Unbeknownst to all, some or none, everyone's kind of sleeping together even in their own group.

No matter how it shakes out, everyone's kinda fucked in the head when it comes to sex and their relationships.

These so-called banal intellectuals argue how archaic American culture and marriages are while they tend to all sleep with other people.

Then, why get married? I'm no prude. I'm all about sexual freedom and kinda doing whatever with whomever. But when you enter into a relationship and that becomes a marriage, then a certain amount of respect and monotony is expected no matter how free and loose the pair are.

Otherwise, what' the point? Procreation (another thing our characters are generally against)? Just not being alone?

The gay guy had it right. He likes prowling and the last thing he wants is to coming home to some nagging wife-lover no matter what.

Of course, he was also pissing blood. So what does he know?

'On The Town'

I can't get enough of Gene Kelly.

In An American in Paris, I opined about his ability to utilize space -- whether it's a tabletop or sidewalk to execute his dances.

In On the Town, I recognized his ease as he performed. Kelly dances as easy as we sleep. Some guys make their jobs look easy. Kelly has to be No. 1 on that list. No telling how many people he inspired to become dancers only for those people to learn that it was actually insanely tough work.

Some interesting production notes include Frank Sinatra having to wear a prosthetic ass to fill out his sailor's uniform and Jules Munshin being so terrified of heights that during the scene on top of the building, he had a rope tied to his waist and anchored to something off-screen.

I did find it odd that the only decent looking woman was Ann Miller and she was paired with the goofiest, non-star in Munshin.

Also, this was film on location, in New York City. For those who love the Big Apple (and if you've been there, you love it), this is a great film to watch especially if you're wanting to get a glimpse of New York City in its heyday of the 1940s and 1950s.

'Cinema Paradiso'

I think my favorite aspect of the foreign film is their quirkiness.

Having the priest of the town in Cinema Paradiso review the films before they are shown in order to cut and splice out all of the unpure scenes are really neat. Especially when you know when the kiss is coming only to have it skip to the next scene and the crowd of film-loving Italians boo and hiss.

Then, to have Alfredo edit all the kisses into one long real was a really cool moment not only for the Toto character, but for the writers to know how to arc that part of the story over to how it ends is remarkable.

A more likable film has not been made over the past 20 years.

'The Defiant Ones'

Allegedly, director Stanley Kramer wanted Sidney Poitier and Marlon Brando to star in the film.

Other rumors had Elvis Presley interested in playing Joke alongside Sammy Davis Jr. as Noah.

At some point, the role of Joker was offered to veteran actor Robert Mitchum, who would've been great in the role (better than Tony Curtis, for sure).

Mitchum declined. At the age of 14, he actually was sentenced to and escaped from the chain gang in Georgia. He noted that a white prisoner would've never been bound with a black prisoner. The premise, he stated, was too unbelievable.

In 1953, Mitchum starred in White Witch Doctor, in which he played a hunter in the African wild, who agrees to escort a nurse through the wilds of the African jungle, escaping gorillas, hostile natives, lions and all the other realistic shit that happens.

The anecdote about not being chained together with Sidney Poitier is considered false even though Mitchum put it his book.

It's worth noting that Mitchum also had some unfortunate comments about the Jews in the 1980s. He was also an alcoholic and was one of the first celebrities to get busted for weed back in the late-1940s.

Either he was a badass or total dick, hard to tell.

'Live At The Harlem Square Club'

Oh, I like this song.

During "For Sentimental Reasons," Sam Cooke is through a couple of lines through the song when he says "Oh, I like this song."

It couldn't be more sincere. More revealing. "For Sentimental Reasons" was recorded and released relatively early in his mainstream career, having gone to the public in 1957 and peaking at No. 17 in the charts and No. 5 on the R&B charts.

It wasn't a current song nor was it necessarily a big hit. But I can picture Cooke on the stage at the Harlem Square Club with his eyes closed and grinning saying, "Oh, I like this song."

He didn't like it because it made him a lot of money or really because it was insanely popular. It was just a good song. A song that you could've taken the lyrics and scribbled them on a note and given it to a loved one.

It's a sweet, romantic song. Sam Cooke liked that song just like any regular human being might like any song.

In the next line, Cooke proceeds to lead the audience in a sing-along. Cooke would recite the proceeding line of the song and then an explosion of unmiked voices from the crowd just scream out the lyrics. The next line. Again, the cacophony of voices erupts from the speakers.

There's something special about Sam Cooke. I'm not saying anything that hadn't been said the previous 50 years. Cooke started extremely early when he bridged the gap between gospel, pop and then soul. For my money, he's better than Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Al Green or anyone else as a singer.

The live album is much more raw and finds Cooke in his natural habitat performing for others, leading them in the appreciation of great songs and letting him present another version of his songs -- some hits, some new songs.

More importantly, it puts Cooke's sensationally unique voice in the limelight. Why is Cooke better than those other names? Cooke sang with such ease. He put as little effort and received the most back. He sang as easily as most of us talk.

'All That Heaven Allows'

My parents were divorced when I was about 15. Since, my sainted mother has been wooed and courted by a handful of older gentlemen. Apparently, my mother is a pretty hot piece in the senior citizen sets in local churches.

Anyway, despite various relationships, she's never gotten married and I've never blamed her for remaining single. Frankly, the guys she was seeing were a bit on the losery side. I'd like to think my sweet mother could do better than these chumps.

My mother likes going to musicals, traveling, visiting museums and being generally active. One guy she kind of dated could barely walk and was suspected to be pretty unable to walk within a couple of years.

I look back now and realize maybe I was a bit too critical of my mother. I never said anything to her face, but I didn't like these guys. I'm too protective. But I was probably too over the top. Why should I overprotect my mother and prevent her from finding happiness and companionship?

That'll drive you mad while watching All That Heaven Allows. Jane Wyman's a well-to-do widow with a social life and two college-age children. And a gardener.

Of course, Wyman's gardener happens to be none other than Rock Hudson, the hunk of all Hollywood hunks. They meet and get to know each other. They fall in love despite his ascetic, Thoreouian lifestyle and him being significantly younger than him.

Nobody approves. The kids think Hudson's after her money and dear ol' mom is trying to replace dear ol' dad.

Of course, the social circle sparks with the scuttlebutt of Wyman banging a younger, hotter guy. Who is a gardener.

It's a comment on 1950s values. Not only of how we conduct relationships, but how we judge the people that conduct them. It's one thing to disagree with the relationship. It's another to be a dick about it.

This is a good movie because the director and actors make you love the characters. You really end up hoping for the best by the end of the film. Even thought we know that Hudson was gayer than a parade.

'The Immoralist'

This is one of Andre Gide's "earlier" publications (1903) when he was about 34, but he was still set to write and publish a ton of things afterwards.

Gide was a bit of a rabble rouser.

He became a communist until he visited the Soviet Union and soured on the whole deal. He wrote about homosexuality and free and easy living. He was a beat and a hippie before there were beats and hippies.

In The Immoralist, our hero Michel travels to north Africa with his wife and he is near death with TB. He survives with a new viewpoint of life and ceases to function until the provincial rules of modern and social life. Although he can't completely come forward without bring embarassment to him and his wife.

He moves to the country and falls in love with the simplicity and quiet of his family farm and the attitude of his attendant's son, Charles.

Eventually, Michel is forced back into the social scene in Paris and eventually his wife dies. Although they are together, they're mentally miles apart. His wife, however, is very religious and very caring despite this separation. Both are kind of heart broken with this emotional divorce and Michel's guilt is palatable when she later dies.

Maybe ol' Michel wasn't such the immoralist after all.

'Meet Me In St. Louis'

I have a friend, Rajesh, who visited St. Louis recently with his wife, Cate.

It was a rather short little vacation to a sleepy midwest city that they didn't really know a lot about, but it was within driving distance and was relatively cheap.

One of the biggest (if not, secretly, the only) reason why they chose St. Louis was the musical, Meet Me In St. Louis.

It stars a 21-year-old Judy Garland playing a coming-of-age woman at the turn of the century in St. Louis just prior to the World's Fair. She and her sister fight for the hands of their beaus as they also deal with possibly leaving the city -- and house -- they grew up in and love.

Cate, in fact, loves this film. According to Rajesh, it's one of her favorites all time. Allegedly, the pair drove around "for hours" trying to find the home of Sally Benson, the writer that wrote the short stories from which the film's script was culled . Or former home. Like in the film (which is semi-autobiographical), she was moved due to her father's business to New York.

According to Rajesh, the couple drove through "demilitarized" streets of St. Louis trying to find this house only to learn that the old structure was, at some point, demolished. So, two of the whitest people I know were in middle of a St. Louis ghetto taking photos of an empty lot.

Therefore, I had to assume this movie was kickass. I was disappointed. I like my musicals, but I need at least some depth. Good songs. Maybe some good dancing.

I get none in Meet Me In St. Louis. Although I do love "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," which was written for the film. Although the film isn't overly Christmasy, so it kinda sticks out like a sore thumb.

Other fun facts:
1. Kid actor Margaret O'Brien plays Tootie. According to the Internet, O'Brien's mother was being a total bitch so the directors attempted to kick her out for one of the crew member's daughter. They eventually opted for O'Brien. The same crew member apparently dropped a light almost hitting (and probably killing) young O'Brien. The crew member was escorted from the studio and was put in an insane asylum.

2. Judy Garland would eventually marry the director, Vincente Minelli. They would have a daughter, Liza.

3. Benson may have been best known for her screen writing. She was nominated for an Oscar for her script for Anna and the King of Siam. She also wrote Alfred Hitchcock's Shadow of a Doubt.

'Closely Watched Trains'

Despite the gravity, a very quirky and funny film in the vein of Jean-Pierre Jeunet. He would've had a blast making the scenes involving the sex and suicide.

Especially the scene where Hubicka stamps the woman's ass and legs with the train station's stamp. Milos himself is a pretty quirky playerin the Jeunet definition of quirky players. He's sensitive and quite determined to get laid or die. He can do neither very well.

Then there are the anecdotes about Milos' grandfathers: One of which died while trying to hypnotize the German invaders and was crushed by a tank. Pure Jeunet.

Then again, Jeunet didn't make this film. It's pure Jiri Menzel.

Two things:

1. The change in Milos to an apolitical type, who seemed extremely uninterested in anything but having sex to a guy that gave up his life to help blow up a retreating Nazi train, is extraordinary. For no reason, he seemed to give up everything despite showing no ill will toward the Nazis in the previous 90 minutes.

2. This film is certainly important. More so because it's one of the few Czech films under communism to really push the envelope with the censors. Plus, it's Czech New Wave with a very obvious tip of the cap to the French like Godard and Truffaut. A beautiful film.

'The Searchers'

Is the western the oldest and deepest film genre?

Westerns have been around, basically, since the medium was started early in the 20th century. They've found a ton of success over the years financially and critically. And never has the western ever been down. Maybe they're not made in quite the volume as they once were, but you'll find quite a number every year.

The only genres to really compete: horror and science fiction.

Sci fi started with Trip to the Moon and has clearly become film's biggest moneymaker. Ironically, George Lucas worked in a number of references to The Searchers in his Star Wars films.

Of course, the horror genre can be traced to the Dracula and vampire films of the early part of the century and today they can't make theatres large enough to pack in enough fear-hungry teenagers.

The Searchers takes on a tricky subject. Not one of survival in the old west or circling the wagons. It's not about bandits or sheriffs. A grizzled vet of the Civil War goes on a long search for his niece, who was kidnapped by Native Americans.

The story was apparently written with Cynthia Ann Parker's abduction, which was one of a handful in the actual old west. Parker wound up spending 24 years with the Comanches, marrying, having kids and having a life before she was "liberated."

Of course, you have to consider Stockholm syndrome, which seemed to be what Natalie Wood's character was suffering from as John Wayne was taking her home.

On the surface, Stockholm syndrome doesn't make any sense. With a little thought, I could imagine how living a pretty easy life with a bunch of Indians would be OK.

'Playtime'

Jacques Tati really did not dig the direction that Paris and France went int during the middle of the 20th century.

In three straight films of his that I've seen of his, they all star Tati as Mr. Hulot, the bumbling, mostly silent Frenchman, who finds himself in a number of different scenarios and circumstances because ... he's so bumbling.

As funny as it can get, Tati readily indicates his utter disdain for modern Paris and the ton of tourists that were coming in and eating away at the charm and uniqueness of his home country.

As admirable as this may appear, it's really pointless and petty. Does he not want people to be soulless and obnoxious? You have enough babies over time and a number of them are going to be dumb.

I don't know what Tati expected. Maybe these films are just his statement. Had he not made them, he would've regretted it forever. I'd like to think so.

Despite his disenfranchised view of modern living, his sets are visually mesmerizing.

'Dr. Strangelove or: How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Bomb

Great title. Great director. Great performances (all three) from Peter Sellers and George C. Scott.

It's smart and sexy and so stinking relevant that I can't believe people would actually go in to watch this film and not come out totally freaked out or totally relieved that someone was actually talking about what was always in the back of everyone's brains after World War II.

The film was released in January 1964 just after the assassination of John F. Kennedy in November 1963 and smack-dab in the middle of the Cold War when everyone was on edge after the Cuban Missile Crisis.

I was born long after and all I ever worried about were nuclear meltdowns and the Russians winning Olympic medals. But I do wonder how seriously all of this was taken at the time. Did kids and adults really think that ducking your head was going to help you survive an atomic bomb? To me, that's not taking things seriously.

But that was also the media (and the government) trying to mold thoughts. Surely everyone was on true pins and needles or were at least trying to hide their fears, which is OK. It didn't help being freaked out every day.

What I like best about Kubrick's film is that he puts a vast majority of the blame and responsibility falls on human interaction, communication and ineptitude. It's as if the bombs were pit bulls, and these world leaders were the dog owners. With enough negligence, anything can destroy.

'Foe'

J.M. Coetzee re-creates Daniel DeFoe's Robinson Crusoe with a girl involved. Naturally, she ends up getting screwed by every guy in the book (Crusoe, DeFoe). All except poor Friday.

Coetzee weaves another stellar tale from the existing story to paint an allegory for what was happening in his native land of South Africa.

The division of race is told through the idiom of language -- how those who have it (and share it with many others) are able to succeed whilst those without it are mired in inequality and substandard existence.

It's this absence of language and Miss Barton's overwhelming and desperate need to give Friday a language (while most were OK with him not having one) that brings to question the entire debate of race and equality.

On one level, the lack of language deprives Friday (the representation of all indigenous or people of color) of the opportunity of being equal. It gives the whites (or the slaveowners) the power.

Despite Miss Barton's apparent good intentions are rooted in the entire idea of power and wielding that power. Basically, once the cat was out of the bag (see: slavery), there was no going back nor was there any real way to repay or provide restitution on any level. Somehow, those people (black, Indian, whatever) have never quite been able to get back.

No matter how many laws are passed, no matter how many generations of humans are raised to accept and love one another, 500 or 600 years ago whenever they decided to trap and enslave the people on the continent of Africa, it made thousands and thousands of years of ripples that'll outlast us and our great-great-great-great grandchildren.

'The Big Chill'

Gay. Gay. Gay.

By a million miles, the gayest movie I've ever seen. Can't believe I'm watching this.

To take the gayness to the next level, the producers decided to put a greatest hits of 1960s music on the soundtrack. Really. Thanks for trying to find some deep cuts that have some fucking meaning. Instead, you went out to sell soundtracks to Baby Boomers.

'Frenzy' & 'Marnie'

I count 16 Alfred Hitchcock films in the 1,001 list. By my estimation, that's the most for any one director. I've reviewed all but about six or so.

Frenzy and Marnie represent two of Hitchcock's final films. The latter (1964) was Hitch's third to the last American film and the former (1972) was his second to the last for his career. But it also signaled his return to making a film in England. Indeed, it's extraordinarily English. Especially compared to the previous 30 which were extraordinarily American.

Marnie is the most interesting because of all the little stories that went with it. It's essentially a retelling of Psycho except Marnie gets caught and there's horses.

Still, it stars the massively unattractive Tippi Hedren, who had starred in The Birds a year before. This is upsetting because Hitchcock wanted Grace Kelly, and she was set to do it, but by then she was the princess of Monaco and her people objected to her playing a criminal.

During filming, Hitchcock and Hedren had a falling out. Rumors were that there was an intermediary that served as a go-between during production. I find this hard to believe on Hitchcock's part. The pair never worked together again or spoke.

Sean Connery is another story. He was primed to do a Hitchcock film, but reportedly balked at Notorious and North by Northwest (both superior films) but Connery felt he'd be further typecast as a spy-type. So he did the inferior Marnie. Connery's quoted as saying that he likes the movie with certain "reservations." Which just certifies him as being a prick.

Marnie proved to be a bit of a milestone for Hitchcock and signaled the end of an era. Both his longtime editor and cinematographer died following the film. His musical composer was fired in his next movie. All his security blankets were closed.

Thus, films like Frenzy come off as being completely different. Almost unrecognizable as Hitchcock unless you just know it is. It's very modern, lacks his typical nuances and the killer casts he was able to procure.

'The 13 Clocks'

There's nothing deep (or overtly deep) or complicated about James Thurber's fantasy stories.

Duke is due to marry the princess on her 21st birthday. The prince -- disguised as a minstrel strolls into town. He's given the seemingly impossible task of finding 1,000 jewels and starting all 13 clocks in the castle.

It's easy when there's a lady who cries jewels. And when the princess is the key to starting the clocks.

It's a rich, entertaining stories. Take the story and add Thurber's sing-song prose-poetry and the beautiful illustrations included in the edition I was able to read.

'Paleface'

As a singular actor or performer in any setting, there's little doubt that no one was better than Bob Hope.

Note: I didn't necessarily say funnier. Hope is transcendant. He's not just a comedian, even though he's exceptionally funny even in these modern days of Comedy Central.

It's the delivery, it's how he controls your eye as you watch him on screen or on stage. He takes over. In sports, it's equal to Michael Jordan taking over a game or Tiger Woods just dominating a course.

It's part charisma and part a natural persuasion toward being a performer. Part just physical presence. He didn't need to perform, just be included in the shot to take over. Hope, unlike 90 percent of all these others, was absolutely born to perform.

When you think of the greats -- Brando, DeNiro, Gable -- Hope has to be included.

'Come Drink With Me'

One of the top 10 most visually appealing films I've seen.

A beautiful movie that was Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon ... only 30 years before. It's fresh and vibrant and could go toe to toe with any modern kung fu movie.

This film probably makes Quentin Tarantino horny.

'Gandhi' & 'Black Narcissus'

I'd seen these two films within days of each other not realizing that the latter had anything to do with the former. In fact, there's a minimal degrees of separation.

Black Narcissus is set in Indian, high in the Himalayas. It follows the trials and tribulations of a group of British nuns set to start a school in the area. It's a British film and was released right before Indian independence and the end of England's grip on the country.

Gandhi, obviously, is the famous biopic starring Ben Kingsley about the life of Mohandas Gandhi and the nonviolent resistance movement that he spearheaded to plant the seeds for that independence.

Gandhi is brilliant and it's brilliant because of Kingsley. He's fantastic in this film (as has been noted over the past 20 years).

Black Narcissus is great because it's an allegory for the end of the British rule in India. In Gandhi they reference that the English people were sympathetic with the Indian resistance, which I don't know if that's true or not.

If you read enough about England in the 1970s and 1980s, the English people weren't too keen on any one of color, but I don't know if that's true for all people of color or those people in the 1940s.

India interests me, and I hope to read and learn more about it.

I think what fascinates me most is the dichotomy of religion. Growing up and watching Temple of Doom, you think everyone there is Hindu. In fact, it's a large next for Islam and despite the split with Pakistan after independence, there is a shitload of animosity between the two sects.

I feel I'm a reasonable man. But it feels like the Muslim people can't seem to get along with anyone. The Jews, Hindus and if the extremists are any indications, they're not too entirely hip on Christians. Then again, the Jews and Christians seem to pick just as many fights.

There's a good reason many people get disgusted with religion. It prevents humans from thinking straight and, ironically, it prevents them from treating others with kindness, it prevents us from turning the other cheek.

Whether it's Christian-Catholic, Islam-Hindu, Islam-Jewish, Jewish-Christian or any other conflict, people have gotten their panties in a wad when religion gets dragged into things.

It's a shame that such a good thing has been soiled by human brains. I'd bet God -- whether it's a Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim or Judeo-Christian -- would like a do-over.

'Gone With The Wind'

I'd never seen this movie in its entirety. In fact, I thought it didn't go on too much longer after the burning of Atlanta. In fact, that's the middle of the film.

This is a pretty extraordinary film. I assume I'm watching the restored version from 2004. It looks incredibly fresh and clean. At times, it's hard to imagine it was every done in 1939.

Gone With the Wind has one of the most fascinating characters in all of filmdom (Scarlett), one of the best acting performances (Clark Gable) and probably one of the most likable characters ever (Hattie McDaniel's Mammy).

However, as deliciously neurotic as Scarlett was, the fact that Rhett Butler basically told her to kiss his ass made it by far the best ending of all time.

The magnificent story is set against one of the most fascinating and game-changing times in American history, which had taken place on 70-odd years before. McDaniel's father was a slave. There are some even today that haven't gotten over the Civil War. Imagine the attitudes in Atlanta, Charleston, Birmingham or Jackson in 1939.

The production is fantastic, the bit characters are really well done. There is little to really dislike about this film.

By the way, seems like a pretty good idea to no longer ride horses. Seemed very, very dangerous. More people died riding horses than in the Civil War.

'Don't Come Home Drinkin' (With Lovin' On Your Mind)

I’ve wanted this album for a long while (I couldn't find it for about a year and I eventually discovered an LP for a reasonable price in Amazon) for several reasons:

1. I was a relatively large Loretta Lynn fan stemming mostly from her duets with Conway Twitty.

2. It’s by far the most awesome album title.

Lynn a straight-shooting country princess just looking for a guy to stay true and at least a little sober every once in a while. She tells us this all in under three minutes.

Voices like Lynn make me wonder where the country and western female fits in the grand scheme of this great struggle of the sexes, especially in popular art. I’m not entirely familiar with the work of, say, Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Simone or the other early jazz singers. I feel that rock female artists such as Janis Joplin or Grace Slick were too carnal – they tried to be a man in a man’s world.

Early R&B and Motown would often get attitudinal (“R-E-S-P-E-C-T”), but never did they ruffle too many feathers and they would get angry one minute and pretty forgiving the next.
Gals like Lynn were fed up. They didn’t dig their men cheating, carousing and drinking. And they were apt to throw it back right in the man’s face by going out and getting some herself.

From Patsy Cline up through the 1970s, country and western women knew only of heartbreak and disappointment. In all, they captured the toil and work of the American woman more than any other genre.

'Stand By Me' & 'The Princess Bride' & 'When Harry Met Sally'

Director Rob Reiner has four films in the 1,001 list.

Martin Scorsese has nine (a rough count) so maybe it’s safe to say that Reiner is half as good of a director as Scorsese.

I’ve never considered Reiner anything other than Meathead from “All in the Family.” Look at a list of his directed films, and it’s not bad at all.

In fact, I think the guy has quite a bit of value. I think he captures a certain amount of attitude from the Baby Boomers and, to a point, Generation X.

Is there a more quintessential relationship film than When Harry Met Sally? Did any film of its genre or time quite straddle the lines between the pessimism of the Boomers and Gen X along with the seed of hope and serendipity that both groups kinda still believed in down deep?

There’s Billy Crystal’s Harry. The typical asshole. Jaded and a straight shooter. He calls it like he sees it and he sees everything as being related to sex without the niceties and small things that make true relationships grow and prosper.

Then there’s Meg Ryan’s Sally. The optimist (a journalist, of course), who truly believes that people are deep and have different dimensions from the one-sided sex whores to the multi-dimensional thoughtful creatures seeking to perpetually evolve emotionally.

Consider Reiner’s other work. This Is Spinal Tap commenting on the metal scene of debauchery and a listless generation. Misery and the idea of celebrity and a fan’s perceived expectations. A Few Good Men and the military complex.

Two of his films kind of serve as bookends and both deal with death: Stand By Me and The Bucket List.

The latter is a silly, throwaway movie starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman (it’s no Pacino and DeNiro … but it’s still two of the best actors of the past 50 years), who are dying and seek to scratch off a list of things to do before they pass on. Stand By Me is the Stephen King story about four friends in the 1950s who travel to see a dead body. It’s part adventure, part macabre and part adolescent fixation on death – something they didn’t understand then and something that we assume Nicholson and Freeman still don’t understand in their 80s.

Despite all his films being relevant for a certain group of people, nothing’s captured the imagination of the American public (especially that of Generation X) than The Princess Bride. Ironically, it’s a story of true love where despite everything in the world going against our two lovers, nothing would get in their way, even death.

Still, there was a subtle message. One that was relatively popular at the time. It’s the same theme in The Neverending Story – that modern technology was ruining our youth. In The Neverending Story, children not reading anymore was basically destroying an entire imaginary world full of multi-faced races, uncooperative, lethargic giant turtles and rock eaters. And spawning tremendously large man-eating wolves as agents of change and despair.

In The Princess Bride, Peter Falk has to force feed his grandson (Kevin Arnold … or as he’s also known, Fred Savage) a book forcing him to turn off his video games. Despite the grumbling, Savage ends up loving the story. And, thus, Fantasia was saved.

My point is that Reiner doesn’t make awesome films that change the way we look at writing or acting. He’s not Scorsese or Godard. But he’s also not a tortured artist or someone unable to bring on a fight in a film. There’s not many guys that can be so light hearted as in The Princess
Bride and capture such a heavy burden in Stand By Me.

'Trust' & 'Stranger Than Paradise'

I coupled these two seemingly distant films because they are both highly-regarded early independent films. You know. Back when independent films just sucked.

I've got to be honest: I liked neither. But I get it. I get why they are important because without them, dudes like Kevin Smith don't exist. Then there are a million less gay Kevin Smith fans. And maybe Kevin Smith doesn't have the very real weight problem that no one's really willing to talk about.

Independent films are basically based on the idea that you can spend the least amount of money to tell a story. Now, these directors would like you think they're saying something by making movies where there is no real plot, so-so writing and these angry, disillusioned characters.

The reality is that they don't have the money to pay actual talented people to make or be in their films so they come off as such. It's a genre of convenience, at times.