Umberto Eco: “Why am I so interested in the subject? I can’t really say. I like lists for the same reason other people like football or pedophilia. People have their preferences.”

SPIEGEL: “Why do we waste so much time trying to complete things that can’t be realistically completed?”

Eco: “We have a limit, a very discouraging, humiliating limit: death. That’s why we like all the things that we assume have no limits and, therefore, no end. It’s a way of escaping thoughts about death. We like lists because we don’t want to die.”
–

This site/domain predates the movie blog. It was originally set up to hold my movie lists. Lists of movies I’ve seen and have yet to see. Movies I liked and need to see again. Saw in theaters or on video? Have on DVD? Available on DVD. Watched on Turner Classic. Read about in a magazine. How many movies seen, by year? By director? How many directors? How many movies? How many lists?

I do love the movies more than the lists, but it wasn’t seeming that way. I’d watch House of Mirth very late one night, not remember it the next day but check it off the list. Watch In a Lonely Place whilst looking for music on the internet, only glancing at the TV when it sounds like the scene has changed. With the movie blog around, I have to think about everything I’ve seen after watching it. Encourages thought and analysis. Exceptions still occur, as does terrible writing and half-assed entries, but overall it is working.

Lately the unfortunate combination of The Road (post-apocalyptic survival story) and Collapse (paranoid doc about how the world’s headed down The Road sooner than later) along with Vic Chesnutt’s death on Christmas, all got me thinking about death, that discouraging, humiliating limit. Like Umberto Eco, I like lists because I don’t want to die. So as The Year We Make Contact approaches and I ponder how many George Clooney movies, Hellraiser sequels, classics, romantic comedies, awful remakes and foreign dramas I have left to watch, I have kicked out more lists than ever:

Favorite New Movies in Theaters, 2009
Favorite Movies on Video, 2009
Fifteen Favorite Shorts of 2009
Top Ten Retrospective Screenings of 2009
Fave Movies of the Decade
Movie Lists 2006 Redux
Movies to Watch in 2010

I was gonna jazz these up with some fresh screenshots but all this writing is cutting into valuable moviewatching time…

First feature of Bigelow’s I’ve seen (and only the third she’s made) since Strange Days in the mid-90’s. As good/intense as they say. Plot is just a series of dangerous situations strung together, with minimal character/story crap getting in the way – and I say that as a compliment. Doughy-faced star Jeremy Renner (seen him before in two not-so-good movies), replacing a blown-up Guy Pearce, defuses bombs with his team Anthony Mackie (charismatic star of Spike Lee’s forgotten She Hate Me) and Brian Geraghty (hundredth-billed in Art School Confidential). David Morse shows up to talk (where’s he been since The Green Mile?) and Raifffienes plays a desert bounty hunter (pffft, “security contractor”) who catches a bullet to the neck during an ambush.

Geraghty, Mackie, Pearce:
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Movie builds tension further by counting down the days (30-some) till the company is relieved – keeping in mind that movies historically love to kill army guys when their tour is almost up, or kill cops a few days away from retirement (see also: Exiled). Jeremy goes a little mad chasing after a boy who sells bootleg DVDs, thought dead so a revenge plan is set in motion, it goes wrong, then the boy shows up alive and well. Brian gets kidnapped and shot, but the three guys live. Renner can’t deal with home/family life (shades of The War Tapes), re-enlists in the final scene, with a chilling “365 days left in tour” title card.

J. Renner assesses the situation, find it unsatisfactory:
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It’s unsurprising that cinematographer Barry Ackroyd works with Paul Greengrass, but curious that he also shot The Wind That Shakes The Barley.

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Since we didn’t see this when it played theaters this summer, I skipped all the articles about it. Found one still lingering on Bright Lights, arguing that it “combines two cinematic subgenres that no one ever thought to put together before – the bomb disposal film, and another subgenre that has scarcely been recognized as such, the Steve McQueen military film.” Apparently I must see The Small Back Room, a Powell/Pressburger British/Nazi Hurt Locker.

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From Sam Fuller’s autobiography:

[Writer/producer Myles Connolly] and I started throwing around ideas for his picture. It was supposed to be about a character based on Tom Mix, the cowboy star of silent films who’d made scores of Westerns. Then came the talkies, and Mix didn’t make the transition successfully. Myles and I came up with a story about a silent cowboy star who doesn’t want to play a gangster role in a talkie because he wants to be loyal to his fans. He doesn’t want to disappoint the kids who are crazy about his Westerns. We called it Once a Hero, but after the movie went into production, they gave it the more commercial title of It Happened in Hollywood.

Harry Lachman, who’d been a successful painter in Paris, directed the picture. Lachman is forgotten today, but he made over thirty movies before he stopped directing in the early forties. Fay Wray played the female lead. This was after King Kong distinguished her from all the pretty blondes of the day as the one who could scream the best. the Tom Mix character, Tim Bart, was played by Richard Dix. It Happened in Hollywood was my first real credit on a picture.

Fay Wray, the one who could scream the best:
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The name wasn’t changed soon enough – the Once a Hero title card made it onto the film. Celeb cowboy actor Bart is introduced screening his latest movie to sick kids, a real white-hat good-guy honest friendly lunkhead. He and his leading lady Gloria are called back to Hollywood for sound tests – she makes it but Bart, dressed in a silly period suit and made to speak out-of-character flowery dialogue, gets cut. Gloria later gets him a bit part as a gangster but he walks when the script is changed to make him a cop killer.

“The day of Westerns is over. We have to make the pictures indoors from now on.” Recalls The Naked City, which we watched the same week, finally making the pictures outdoors again.

Bart in gangster getup with his director:
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Out of work and unpopular when a young fan comes to visit, Bart throws a party and invites all the stars’ doubles and stand-ins to delight the kid – the highlight of the picture. Some stand-ins do the voices better than others – Chaplin’s and Harold Lloyd’s have no problem since they don’t speak.

This is not W.C. Fields:
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The improbabilities pile up… a realtor, after Bart to repossess his mansion while the party is being held, is kidnapped. Bart and Gloria tearfully confess to each other that they’re broke. The boy falls ill and the doctor says he can’t be moved. Tim hits his low point, about to reenact the bank robbery for real, ends up foiling a more serious bank robbery and shooting the criminals. Now a hero in the papers, he’s hired back by the studio, Westerns make a comeback and Tim opens a ranch for sick kids. That’s a better ending than Tom Mix got, touring with a circus after leaving the movies, marrying for the fifth time then dying when his car plunged into a ravine.

Did anybody realize that Blake Edwards made a movie in which Tom Mix (Bruce Willis) teams up with Wyatt Earp to solve a murder at the Academy Awards? It came out three months before Die Hard.

A boy in trouble:
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Decent movie. I liked Richard Dix (who’d really been a silent film star, and not exclusively in Westerns) but Fay Wray made more of an impression. It all confused Katy, who knows Sam Fuller is some kind of badass and didn’t follow his connection with this movie. I didn’t either, honestly – assuming Power of the Press and Scandal Sheet will show off more of his style (I already know that Shockproof does).

Stephen (dreamboat Jackson Rathbone from M. Night’s Last Airbender and the Twilight series) is a black haired film student who meets Quaid (edgy dude who studies fear). Stephen’s editor is a vegetarian girl, and I remember what happens to her from the short story. Abby is a girl with a dark goth birthmark all over her face and body – I liked her best.

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The ol’ “kid upstairs watches his family get killed by a maniac below” bit. Didn’t I see the same scene in Giallo last week? Everyone in this movie has tattoos and listens to teen hard-rock. It’s like the vision of underground youth culture put forth by 8mm or Blair Witch 2. Whoops, there’s my favorite M83 song over a clubbing/sex/film editing montage so I guess I’m guilty too. They hang up their fear-study flyers (on red paper, of course) among gratuitous ads for the new Dresden Dolls album.

A stupid, awful, violent little movie. Makes sense that the vegetarian-trapped-in-room-with-rotting-meat scene from the short story would make it to the movie intact. There’s nothing horror movies enjoy more these days than a psychological (yet gruesome) torture chamber. This also shared a hint of the ending of Martyrs, the torturer gaining enlightenment by staring into the dying eyes of his victim, but that movie somehow seemed both far more violent and less gratuitous. Stephen ends up killing everyone, gets away, ho-hum.

The writer/director has his hands on most Barker-related movies of the recent past and near future, including Midnight Meat Train, Book of Blood, something called The Plague and the upcoming Hellraiser remake.

I probably shouldn’t say I watched this at all, since I was focusing more on cutting out CD tracklists than on the screen, but I looked up often enough for this to remind me of Chop Shop. Seemed like one of the modern indie movies that are trying to outdo each other with their raw realism, with traces of The Wrestler follow-cam. I’m not so into the gritty Dardenne school, but this didn’t overdo it. Sugar dreams baseball, makes furniture, gets into the U.S. major-league farm teams, is the next big thing, then thinks he’s losing his edge so runs off to NYC to work on furniture, play small-time ball in his spare time.

Regular collaborators Fleck and Boden are both credited as director, but Fleck took sole director credit on breakthrough Half Nelson so Boden doesn’t get as much mention in the reviews. I don’t know who either one of ’em is, so it’s all the same to me.

Cinema Scope liked it, said they “pared down the dialogue, kept the plot off to the side, and invested everything in looks, gestures, space, and atmosphere.”

Clooney fires people for a living, is always flying, gives speeches about dropping all your attachments and being free of troublesome possessions, hobbies, pets, family and friends which only weigh you down and lead to death (he didn’t explain exactly how his way of free living equals happiness or longevity). Doesn’t sound like a winner of a guy, but we’re talking George Clooney here. He cruises by on charisma, intensity and confidence, never looking back or down until he crashes, hard, in love with a fellow traveler. Movie ends beautifully with him rethinking his priorities, gazing at a departure board.

Equally excellent: George’s happily-married affair Vera Farmiga (the only woman in The Departed, the two-timing psychiatrist) and George’s possible successor, super-confident young Anna Kendrick (Rocket Science, Edgar Wright’s next film).

I found nothing wrong with the movie, enjoyed almost as much as Michael Clayton. Katy liked it too, but disagrees with the award talk for George’s performance – said he just plays George Clooney. Some real call-attention-to-themselves cameo appearances by Zach Galifianakis, JK Simmons and Sam Elliott still aren’t as distracting as Clooney’s own cameo in The Thin Red Line, so I give them a pass. I guess none is distracting if you don’t know the actor. Katy misidentified Zach, and I was probably the only drooling Big Lebowski fan in the theater who got excited over Sam.

“The class of people who comes here seems to get worse every year… and this year we seem to have next year’s crowd already.” Lubitsch movies always have such great dialogue, but he didn’t write ’em and English wasn’t his first language, so why is it?

It was a bad week for staying awake all the way through movies. Shout out to Gold Diggers of 1933 (I hardly remember anything) and Ninotchka (some awful Russian spies who reminded me of the encyclopedaeists in Ball of Fire were cashing in when I checked out), both of which Katy finished after I’d fallen asleep, and Hollywood Canteen which she didn’t feel like finishing after it got repetitive (army man and buddies are fawned over by actors, including huge star Joan Leslie (who? the girl from Yankee Doodle Dandy?)). I liked this one the most, at least its first half, so I came back the next day to watch the ending.

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Opens with a racy scene about sleeping in and out of pajamas. Bank owner, cheapskate and stickler for everything Gary Cooper meets Claudette Colbert whose father the marquis is trying to hold onto his status despite being flat broke. CC falls for Gary and they’re to be married when he confesses he’s had seven ex-wives. Angry as hell, she signs a lucrative pre-nup agreement, marries Gary then spends his money while trying her best to provoke a divorce. Hilarity ensues.

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Gary Cooper’s gruff phonetic pronunciation of French words adds to the humor. He’s actually not bad as a comic actor. Apparently a remake of a Gloria Swanson silent film. That’s David Niven on the beach above as Colbert’s friend (and a bank employee) whom Colbert sets up as a fall guy in her divorce plot. And the great E. Everett Horton as the marquis. Great looking movie with a perfect cast.

One of the funniest movies I’ve seen all year. And it’s the kind of humor that makes the film nerd in me very happy, lovingly referencing 70’s cheapie Blaxploitation movies, even down to the shitty edits, overacting and pointedly sloppy dialogue, such as “your mama would turn over in her grave if she were here to see this.”

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Beautiful lines like “Ain’t nothing in the world get Black Dynamite more mad than some jive-ass sucka dealin’ smack to the kids” are just icing on the cake.

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That’s Tommy Davidson, the only star of In Living Color who didn’t go on to much of a movie career (unless Booty Call and Bamboozled count). Our star is Michael Jai White, Spawn himself, finally back on top where he belongs.

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Plot isn’t important. BD avenges the death of his brother, wipes smack off the streets, foils Fiendish Dr. Wu’s evil chemical plot and then defeats Richard Nixon in a nunchuck battle.

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Obviously destined to be a cult video classic alongside Wet Hot American Summer.

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Aw, crumbs. I thought I’d written a whole lot about The Naked City already, then I click over here a couple weeks later and find a blank page. I did watch it twice (once with commentary) and check out all the DVD extras, but I didn’t write anything. So I’ll be brief.

Katy and I were impressed by this crime scene sketch:
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Single-handedly created the police procedural, the idea that a single Sherlock Holmes/Sam Spade detective doesn’t solve a case, but rather a large team, labs and research and lots of hard work. So it’s an ensemble cast, led by young cop Don Taylor (of Stalag 17 and Flying Leathernecks, also directed Planet of the Apes 3, Omen 2 and The Final Countdown) and older wiser Irish cop Barry Fitzgerald (The Quiet Man, Bringing Up Baby). A girl has been killed, so her friend from work (Dorothy Hart), her slimy, mysterious buddy (he’s also the work friend’s fiancee: House Jameson, later appearing in some episodes of the Naked City TV series) and her doctor Howard Duff (A Wedding, While the City Sleeps) are all questioned. Turns out the buddy is a thief but no killer – real bad guy is pugilist/harmonicist Ted de Corsia (Lady from Shanghai, The Enforcer), who gets a boffo chase scene down and up the Williamsburg bridge at the climax.

Our two heroes:
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A remarkable movie, better than I was expecting. Works as a sordid crime investigation drama, and somehow with all that complicated/groundbreaking location shooting they found the time to produce some excellent shots. From Luc Sante’s Criterion essay: “Hellinger chose as his cinematographer William Daniels, a great craftsman – once known as Garbo’s cameraman – whose career demonstrates how brief the history of the movies has been: he shot Greed (1925) at one end of it and Valley of the Dolls (1967) at the other.”

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The producer (who also narrates) was a former newspaper man who would work on city crime scenes. He died a week after the first sneak preview of Naked City.

Jameson: a real loser
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J Hoberman:

“The Naked City,” an otherwise conventional police procedural that, like Brute Force, was among its year’s top-grossing movies, was distinguished mainly for its Lower East Side locations and what the critic James Agee called the “majestic finish” of its chase across the Williamsburg Bridge. The cameraman William Daniels won an Oscar, but the movie was heavily re-edited before release, in part, Dassin said, because one of its screenwriters, Albert Maltz, was by then part of the blacklisted Hollywood 10.

Can’t remember the corny line the narrator said over this image:
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