The Big Sleep (1946)
Bogart at his best! Recounting the the plot of The Big Sleep would be akin to listening to the mad ravings of a backwoods mental patient while he tries to convince you that every branch of the American government is somehow in cahoots with the Kingdom of Mars to overthrow the world and turn mankind into the slaves of our conquering Martian overlords. It's complicated is what I'm trying to impart to you. I suggest keeping notes. There's something about the patriarch of a prominent family being blackmailed; a low-level hoodlum posing as an antique book dealer being murdered and the aforementioned patriarch's youngest daughter being photographed at the scene; there's a suburban casino owner named Eddie Mars (Oh, shit! The Martians are among us!) who may or may not have had something to do with the disappearance of Sean Regan, a dude who used to work for the the afore-aforementioned patriarch (AKA Capt Sternwood), and was probably carrying on an affair with Mars' wife; there's a bit about Carmen Sternwoods' driver being drowned to death; etc. etc. Somehow ace gumshoe Philip Marlowe keeps everything from getting too knotted up. Does he solve the mystery, or, rather, mysteries? I'll let you find out...and then you can tell me if you actually figure out what the hell is going on.
My grade: A
Proof old movies are largely better than new ones: Screenplay by, oh, I don't know, William Faulkner!
Confession: Fifteen minutes in, I realized I'd already seen The Big Sleep. Oh, well, it's a great flick. No harm done.
The 400 Blows (1959)
Antoine Doinel isn't a bad kid. It's the people around him that are all messed up. His teacher, whom he dubs "Sourpuss," is cruel and joyless; his mother is probably bipolar; his stepfather is quick to anger and too obsessed with his racing club to take much of an interest in his son's life; his best friend, Rene, whose own parents leave much to be desired (his mother is an alcoholic, his father is a gambler), teaches him the delicate arts of petty theft and school skippery. Society in general seems poised to cut Antoine down at every pass. So, naturally, the boy rebels.
Francois Truffaut's The 400 Blows is a classic of French New Wave cinema and, as such, is totally worth your time. It's a brilliant slice-of-life film that proves being a teenager in the US in the 2000's is just as difficult and weird as it was in 1950's Paris.
The Devil's Rejects (2005)
I like Rob Zombie. I find the handful of films he's made visually stunning. Even when the action on screen is depraved and horrifying, it's a thrill to watch. I see a lot of potential in Mr. Zombie as a film director, I just haven't really enjoyed any of his films. That being said, The Devil's Rejects is my favorite movie of Zombie's thus far. It is technically a sequel to 2003's House of 1,000 Corpses, which I rewatched last month and still felt meh about, but the films are thematically very different. While Corpses was a disturbingly nauseating, sometimes very funny, horror movie about four road-tripping college coeds (Two of which were played by Chris Hardwick and Rainn Wilson!) getting mixed up with a family of depraved thrill killers, Rejects is a Western-tinged, sometimes very funny, revenge movie in which a deeply disturbed sheriff hunts down three of the depraved thrill killers from the first movie. It's less horror, more crime thriller. Lovers of filth talk will be excited to know that Rejects is filled to the brim with profanity! There's also plenty of torture, murder, and sexual assault, if you're into that sort of thing. The film gets so bogged down in it's headshots, gun-rape, and toilet language, that any semblance of a coherent, or interesting, plot is nonexistent. The final scene, however, which is basically Bonnie and Clyde set to "Freebird" is pretty spectacular.
Last Tango in Paris (1972)
The Constant Gardener (2005)
My grade: A
Shocking discovery: Did you know they had the Gravitron ride way back in 1959? It's true! The first time Antoine skips school, Rene takes him downtown for a ride. It is a truly nauseating experience.
The Devil's Rejects (2005)
I like Rob Zombie. I find the handful of films he's made visually stunning. Even when the action on screen is depraved and horrifying, it's a thrill to watch. I see a lot of potential in Mr. Zombie as a film director, I just haven't really enjoyed any of his films. That being said, The Devil's Rejects is my favorite movie of Zombie's thus far. It is technically a sequel to 2003's House of 1,000 Corpses, which I rewatched last month and still felt meh about, but the films are thematically very different. While Corpses was a disturbingly nauseating, sometimes very funny, horror movie about four road-tripping college coeds (Two of which were played by Chris Hardwick and Rainn Wilson!) getting mixed up with a family of depraved thrill killers, Rejects is a Western-tinged, sometimes very funny, revenge movie in which a deeply disturbed sheriff hunts down three of the depraved thrill killers from the first movie. It's less horror, more crime thriller. Lovers of filth talk will be excited to know that Rejects is filled to the brim with profanity! There's also plenty of torture, murder, and sexual assault, if you're into that sort of thing. The film gets so bogged down in it's headshots, gun-rape, and toilet language, that any semblance of a coherent, or interesting, plot is nonexistent. The final scene, however, which is basically Bonnie and Clyde set to "Freebird" is pretty spectacular.
My grade: C+
Last Tango in Paris (1972)
Ah, Paris: the only place where two complete strangers can meet in a dilapidated, rat-infested apartment and be awkwardly humping each other within minutes. It truly is the City of Love. Love, in this case, looks like a 45-year-old widower (Brando) who harbors supremely odd ideas on life, death, and sexual intimacy with swine and a bratty, 20-year-old French girl (Maria Schneider) who may or may not marry her filmmaker/douchebag boyfriend, engaging in increasingly strange sexual behavior with one another between rambling conversations that make little to no sense. The whole endeavor is simultaneously dreamlike and gross. Then, something happens in the film's last 14 minutes: humor rears its mostly-ignored-up-to-this- point head. There's drinking. And more drinking. And dancing. And then kind of, like, flopping around on the floor. Then Marlon Brando pulls his pants down and moons an elderly Parisian woman. Then there is a spirited, drunken chase through the streets of Paris, which from the reactions of the flummoxed passersby, was filmed in secret. Then there is the final minute, which I will not reveal here, that kinda, sorta ruins things. Oh, well.
My grade: B-
Common misconception: Last Tango in Paris has nothing to do with The Last Airbender.
Weirdest thing to say while the stranger you are having casual sex with on a regular basis fingers your butthole: "I'm gonna get a pig and I'm gonna have the pig fuck you. I want the pig to vomit in your face and I want you to swallow the vomit. Are you gonna do that for me? I want the pig to die while you're fucking him. Then you'll have to go behind him. I want you to smell the dying farts of the pig."
A warning to the ladies: If you and your movie snob husband or boyfriend are about to get intimate and he says, "Get the butter," this means he intends to have anal intercourse with you. You are in charge of what happens next.
The Constant Gardener (2005)
Justin Quayle (Ralph Fiennes) picks up where his muckraker wife, Tessa (Rachel Weisz, in a role that won her the old Oscaroo), leaves off after she is murdered for having the audacity to uncover an international conspiracy involving half-assed drug trials in Africa. Exposure could be a career ender for several stuffy British bigwigs and the besmirched reputations of many of Justin's fellow diplomats. Justin stops at nothing to make sure his wife didn't die in vain, though he is given multiple outs over the course of the picture. The Constant Gardener is both engaging and relevant, a conspiracy thriller of the highest caliber.
My grade: A
But what's with the title?: That's an easy one: Justin Quayle loves to garden. Got any harder questions for me?
Would you do the same for your wife?: Ummmm. I'd like to think so, but who knows what I'd do if a pick-up truck full of African hoodlums with semi-automatics arrived to snuff me out in Middle-of-Effing-Nowhere, Africa. I might stand my ground or I might just piss my man- panties and cry. Here's hoping my wife never decides to expose a major pharmaceutical conspiracy on the African continent, though, it goes without saying, I support her in any endeavor on which she choose to embark.
