#13, The Third Man

This will probably be my last post before I leave for Vancouver, and as I mentioned, I don't know how much I'll be able to update until I get back next month. So, enjoy.

If Robert Mitchum were in The Third Man, it would pretty much represent everything good about film noir. As it stands, it gets pretty damn close (and we'll be getting to Mitchum later, anyway). Commonly mistaken as being directed by Orson Welles (his only writing or directorial contribution was the wonderful coo-coo clock monologue), Carol Reed's masterpiece is a quality film in nearly every respect. While watching it with my 12th grade history class made it somewhat difficult (there was one comment along the lines of, "But, films are just better now, right?"), it was still incredibly engaging. The Third Man is another one of those films where it's difficult to begin where to describe it, so I suppose this time I'll start with the few things that bothered me.

As is the problem with much film noir, some of the dialogue is difficult to deal with. While superb direction and acting mask most of this, there are moments where the characters kind of start to disappear, and uninteresting stereotypes start to show up. Perhaps I was unconsciously more critical of this simply because of the genre, though. Most notably, the relationship between Holly Martin and (Joseph Cotton) and Anna Schmidt (Alida Valli) seemed more like an obligation that had to be worked into the plot than anything else, though it did seem to contribute more to the plot in this way than most male/female lead relationships do. The fact that the narrative voice from the beginning disappeared without a trace bothered me, as well, and though humorous and well written, it seemed mostly an excuse to set the tone with a series of (albeit marvelous) shots of the seedier parts of Paris. Welles' character's crimes were also something of a MacGuffin, and somewhat of a disappointing climax to the conspiracy, especially towards the end, and in that way it felt a bit disconnected.

Now, that's out of the way. Otherwise, The Third Man really is brilliant. Carol Reed has to be credited with pulling off a true spectacle, as he brought all the elements of his film together perfectly. The unsettling, stark, angular shots that comprised the film were the perfect basis for flawless performances from the actors, all struggling to find answers in a world gone slightly insane. And, eve though they might have bothered me a bit, the feeling of disconnect created by elements such as the opening narrative and awkward relationships contributes to what represents a remarkable commentary on the weariness of the human condition after WWII. The lost, confused Martin, the bombed out shells of buildings and lonely alleyways of post-war Paris, wrought with shadows and harsh angles, a subtle menacing musical score punctuated by climactic moments, and the bizarre, unsettling sense of conspiracy that permeates the entire atmosphere create a truly wonderful aesthetic, and serve as an able response to the state of a world that must have felt almost post-apocalyptic.

Robert Krasker is a truly genius cinematographer, whose harsh, almost expressionistic angles, stark contrast, and menacing shadows truly define the atmosphere of the piece, and expand upon and perfect that specific, modernistic style. I can't emphasize enough how well the film sets the tone of a society in uncertain times, and the visuals are the key behind that feeling. The right images appear at the right times, creating truly haunting moments in the nearly abandoned alleyways of Paris, and the sewers and hidden tunnels that run beneath the streets. There is a sense of panic around every corner.

The acting is also above average, especially Welles in the time he's on screen. He has this uncanny ability to match his performance perfectly to the intent of the piece, making the viewers feel whatever Welles wants them to feel. He is able to somehow generate his expressions and emotions as readable as a book, yet still maintain an air of mystery and confidence. If his performance can be summed up in one frame, it would be the one I chose as the heading for this particular article. Cotton and Valli, with more screen time, render engaging performances, as well, though by the nature of the piece they're plagued by a few more slow moments. Cotton delivers wonderfully as a confused and slightly panicked pulp fiction writer caught up in a conspiracy much larger than he initially imagined, both terrified and fascinated by the events that both unfold and tighten around him. Along with a great cast of supporting characters, they convey the qualities piece beautifully.

Highlights: Perfect expressionistic imagery and general aesthetic. Memorable performances and moments, as well as a great ending sequence. Good underlying cultural analysis that complements, rather than clashes with, the aesthetic and soul of the film.

Downers: A few disconnected elements, as well as an anti-climactic plot device. A few isolated moments that drag and fail to hold interest. The relationship between the leads, while amazing at moments, falls flat at others.

8.5/10

#12, The Shawshank Redemption

This film has an unusual history, from what I know. Faring poorly when it was released in theaters, it went on to become to most rented video of all time, and its popularity soared well after it had left movie screens. It's rated as #2 on imdb's top 100 list, right behind The Godfather. I suppose the early 90's are when rental films started to become a popular cultural phenomenon, and Shawshank simply had the right ingredients to ride the trend as much as it did. And somehow, it's managed to maintain its popularity. There was a documentary piece on the DVD that was about Shawshank's history, but I didn't get a chance to watch it. If anyone's seen it, let me know.

Anyway, while I wouldn't rank Shawshank as the second greatest film ever made, it did exceed my expectations, and I was impressed by how engaging it was. It was another film that managed to touch me emotionally at certain points, especially towards the end. In fact, the practical part of me wants to say that Tim Robbins standing in the rain with his arms outstretched in a vaguely Jesus-esque manner was far too cheesy and laughable, but in truth, it gave me a bit of that warm-fuzzy feeling. That moment was more powerful than it had any right to be, though I will say it would not have been successful without the set-up given the rest of the scene.

Powerful, actually, is a good word to describe the film in general, and is certainly the intent behind it. While it is definitely mainstream contemporary Hollywood, it's mainstream contemporary Hollywood at its best. Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman give the best performances I've ever seen them give, and are really the heart of the film. While I do have problems with Freeman's very specific type-casting, he is nonetheless stellar in Shawshank, and I suppose its before his typecasting became so established. Every moment the two characters are on screen is a joy, and they turn what could have otherwise been a conventional, feel-good narrative into a real epic and both artistic and human triumph.

Shawshank is another film where the conventional narrative almost seems to have been broken down into a series of vignettes and episodes, which does an excellent job of helping the viewer connect to the film from moment to moment, and present the characters in very real manners. As director, then, Darabont, who has done nothing else notable except The Green Mile, which I also liked, handles the film very well, and seems to have a good grasp of what he wants to convey, and how to convey it. For the most part, he stays out of the way, simply setting the scenes and letting Freeman, Robbin, and the others characters carry the message and aesthetic of the piece. He seems to have a great deal of trust in his actors, a method which, being an actor myself, I appreciate greatly, and is the perfect fit for this film. He manages to very consistently maintain the overall mood of the piece, while still shifting between distinct moments spanning several decades. There actually is a profound sense of time passing and the world aging, while the characters live out their existence inside Shawshank (even if the characters don't physically age all that much...).

I will say, though, that aesthetically, the film doesn't have that much going for it. There's nothing really that innovative about the filmaking, and while Darabont is correct in letting his actors carry the film and the general structure is well done, he doesn't really offer much otherwise. It's good, but nothing spectacular.

And to think, it was based on something written by Stephen King of all people. There are some good films adaptations of his work. Maybe I should give his writing another go...

Highlights: Spectacular performances from Robbins and Freeman. A wonderful sense of time and sentimentality, and a story that kept you engaged. Wonderful last half hour or so. Very well put together.

Downers: I really didn't buy that the same Guard Captain and same Warden would stay at the prison for over twenty years, especially without seeming to age a day. I also couldn't really understand their actions at some points. Some other secondary characters fade into the background a bit too much. Some moments were a bit too cheesy and Hollywood. I wanted to see Freeman play the harmonica, damnit. Aesthetically unremarkable.

Surprisingly difficult to rate. The acting really makes it.
8.5/10

Been a busy past few days

Weeee! I'm back, and with a spiffy new blog title that I suppose works slightly better with the blog, and makes it seem less like a blog about entomology. I don't know whether anyone got it or not, but the former title (and current URL) is a quote from Aliens, one of my favorite films. ANYWAY...

Oh yeah, I'm also leaving on a road trip to Vancouver this coming Wednesday (which is what I was absent working out), so my internet connection will be dubious. This doesn't effect the vast majority of the world in anyway, but for my few loyal readers, I don't know how much I'll be able to update. I think I'll start seriously trying to get this little deal some exposure once I get back, too. I also want to, at some point, perhaps do selected expanded reviews, or force my own theories about film and culture onto this wonderful void we call the internet. That can wait, I suppose, until I get back.

#11, The 400 Blows

The 400 Blows is a film that my mother, actually, had been trying to get me to see for a while, so I finally relented and got around to renting it for this project. Unfortunately, I liked it, which is a shame, since I'm starting to get sick of giving films such high ratings. I really want to slap another 4 onto something. Looking at what I've watched, though, it seems like it may be a while before I can do that.

Anyway, The 400 Blows is a semi-autobiographical film by Francois Truffaut chronicling the life of a young school boy, and the tribulations he endures. One of the best character studies I've ever seen, it's very difficult to decide where to start describing it. The narrative, while for the most part conventional, is nonetheless almost depicted in a series of vignettes, adding a level of depth and realism that supplemented the rest of the film.

The acting is also great. It seems to me that whenever a director casts a child in a lead role, they go out of their way to make sure the kid is superb, as the actor who plays Antoine Doinel certainly is. He endures the abuse, mistreatment, and misfortunes that befall him with a sympathetic and slightly disturbing air of acceptance, which is especially clear during the wonderful (from an aesthetic sense) interrogation of him towards the end of the film. He has no true allies, and his one true friend constantly leads him into disasters. The sense of loneliness for Doinel is achingly clear, and when his friend, Rene, bicycles away from the facility Doinel is being held in towards the end of the film, there is an almost painful sense of finality to it. On top of a very emotional ending, in this way the film does a sublime job of offering empathy, yet withholding judgmentt.

This sense of loneliness and isolation remains pervasive throughout the film additionally through the tight-angled shots, closed spaces, and excruciating sequences of dramatic irony that Truffaut employs. Every moment is almost as painful to watch as it must be for Doinel to endure, and even his moments of happiness are clouded by the promise of disaster. Wonderfully emotional, and wonderfully executed.

Highlights: A very poignantly atmospheric piece, designed to inspire both emotions and the intellect. Even the quiet moments roar with subtext. A very sympathetic character. A very objective narrative perspective.

Downers: Some of the secondary characters, especially the father, were lacking in definition.

9.5/10

#10, The Manchurian Candidate

Please take note that unless I specify otherwise, the films I'm reviewing are probably going to be the original versions, and not whatever remakes of questionable quality happen to have been created since then. A good example is this film, The Manchurian Candidate. I say this because more than one person thought I was referring to the recent version with Denzel Washington (which I have not seen) when I was talking about this one.

But on to my words of wisdom. This was another film I enjoyed for the most part, though the repetition of useless female leads in films, especially like this, is starting to bother me more and more. Especially in the middle of the 20th century, you could take any blond female actress in Hollywood and stick her in any female lead in any film, and one could not tell the difference, either between the actresses or the characters they played. It's always the same character, contributing the same nothing to the story, doing nothing but providing a romantic interest for the lead character. At best, as is the case in films such as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, she will sacrifice everything that makes her interesting by becoming subordinate to the male lead. It's disgusting, really, and I think that I'll dedicate an entire post to the topic in the future.

But I digress. The Manchurian Candidate. Good film, despite the distracting presence of Janet Leigh, whose role is made even more indecipherable by the bizarre scene on a train where Maj. Bennett Marco (Frank Sinatra), first encounters her. Of particular note, I thought, was the performance of Laurence Harvey as the brainwashed Raymond Shaw, forced by a Communist program to carry out a number of rather disturbing assassinations, including an attempt on the (presumably Republican) Presidential Candidate running against Shaw's idiotic father in the primaries. Easily the most human and genuine character in the film, I couldn't take my eyes off of Harvey whenever he was on the screen, and was actually touched by his performance towards the end of the film. Also of note were the bizarre and rather disturbing "garden party" sequences, alternating and sometimes combining the perspectives of the hypnotized soldiers and the communist leaders "viewing' them. This section is easily the best in the entire film, combining disturbing and threatening images and concepts with a rather innocent and dull backdrop. It's very unsettling, and sets the tone for the entire film.

The rest of the film is good, though not spectacular. Sinatra delivers a good performance, there is good cinematography (one out of focus shot of Sinatra, especially, towards the end, while accidental, creates a wonderful tone), with a good story and good direction. There are a few moments, as I've suggested, that are rather extraordinary, especially for the type of film The Manchurian Candidate is, and all in all it is far better than one might expect. It does suffer, though, from a few instances of temporal uncertainty, odd cuts, and bizarre and cryptic dialogue. The premise of mind control, while unsettling, is also sort of loose in a few points, and I was really quite disappointed when a few of the villains disappeared early on. Also, Angela Lansbury, as Mrs. Iselin, Shaw's mother, delivers a performance on par with Harvey's, but the exact motives in her character seem bogged down in the desire to provide a twist towards the end. Nonetheless, a superb film.

Highlights: Extraordinary performances by Harvey and Lansburry, individual moments of conceptual and cinematic brilliance, an engaging story that is quite emotional at moments.

Downers: A worthless female lead, moments of uncertainty or where the premise weakens.

7.5/10

Random Observation

I have 666 messages in my email inbox. Funny that.

#9, 12 Angry Men

So, I watched Vertigo tonight, and boy, do I have much to say about it. While I'm tempted to get it out of the way right now, I shall stick with my viewing order. I think it's the kind of film I'll be able to say more about after it's sat for a while, anyway.

First of all, I just love this film's title. I wanted to get that out of the way. Luckily, though, the film has far more going for it than just its title. It's generally safe to assume that a film that takes place, for the most part, entirely within one room is not going to be that great. It doesn't take much knowledge or imagination that holding an audience's interest for over 1 1/2 hours without a change of scenery can be incredibly difficult. For accomplishing this alone, 12 Angry Men is commendable. It's the way in which Lumet does this, however, that's quite extraordinary.

At this point, I know I've said in several of my reviews that the films possess extraordinary casts, but I'm quite serious in this case. I don't think that I've seen many films with a better group of character actors, except perhaps in The Seven Samurai, and even in that film, the style was entirely different (being in Japanese and all). Almost all of the characters are distinct and engaging, and my only regret really is that we didn't get to spend more time with each of them. The film is more about the story being told (twelve jurors debating the fate of a man who initially appears obviously guilty of murder), and therefore the characters are there more to add color than anything else. While the script and story are wonderful, the plot is entirely predictable, and once a given juror has changed his mind and said his piece, he doesn't have much more to add. A few characters, though wonderfully portrayed, also bothered me with how one-dimensional they were at moments.

Another touch that I absolutely loved in 12 Angry Men was the cinematography. Specifically, as the film progressed, the camera angles became lower and lower, with more close-ups on individual actors, creating a wonderful sense of claustrophobia and panic. Combined with the performances and involvement, as well as rapidly failing mental states, of each of the characters, and 12 Angry Men tells one of the best visual stories I've seen. There really isn't a dull moment throughout, especially with Henry Fonda's portrayal of the enigmatic Juror #8 carrying the course of the entire film.

Highlights: Focuses on the story, delivering it beautifully. Colorful and exquisitely acted characters, engaging cinamatography and well-paced dialogue.

Downers: Focuses on the story, with colorful characters who have difficulty becoming more than characters. All too predictable, even right down to the order the jurors change their minds.

8/10

#8, Citizen Kane

You know how stuff in general often doesn't live up to its expectation? You hear about the greatest food ever, the greatest book ever, or the like, and oftentimes it ends up sucking. I'm well versed in this sort of disappointment, so frankly, when I stuck the disc for Citizen Kane, supposedly the greatest film ever, into the DVD player I really didn't have very high expectations.

I'm sure you've guesses by now that Citizen Kane caught me completely off-guard, then. I'm not sure, but I think I spent the whole two and a half hours with my mouth agape. The film lived up to everything I had heard about it and then some. While it isn't my favorite film, I certainly would not contend after viewing that it is one of the greatest, at least of the meager few I've ever seen. While I would prefer to be able to say that any man who writes, directs, and stars in his own film inevitably gets caught up in his own ego and fails in at least two out those three, I cannot deny that Orson Welles is a genius filmmaker (even if Mankiewicz did most of the writing). Which bugs me, since so man has any right to be able to pull that off. But he does. Damn.

Citizen Kane reads like a laundry list of quality filmmaking. Following the path of a reporter attempting to discover the meaning behind the last word, Rosebud, of the late media megalith, Kane, the narrative is complex and engaging, full of colorful characters settings, and subtle twists in the direction of the story that you never notice until far later. The character of Kane himself, portrayed flawlessly by Welles, garners both sympathy and scorn, is both the reluctant hero and anti-hero. Kane is one of the most complex characters I've seen on screen, and represents a wonderful critique of the commercial giants that began to emerge in the 20th century, and continued to evolve in society today. Throughout all of the this, he manages to remain shockingly human, and I found the ending really quite profound.

The cinematography, as well, can only be described as epic and masterful. I don't think any other film before Citizen Kane used deep focus to such a great extent (i.e. the entire film). This created some truly magnificent and complicated shots, literally bringing entire scenes into perfect focus in an incredibly dynamic manner. Layer this on top of some of the sweeping shots of the larger scenes , or wonderful dynamics of the darker, more closed scenes, in particular the confrontation between Kane and Leland.

I can't really say much more than has already been said about this film. Everything you've heard about it is true. A real classic if there ever was one.

Highlights: If I had to pick one, I'd go with the ending. Spectacular.

Downers: A surprising number of goofs and continuity errors. Also, it's long, and might drag in places for some. Perhaps it also gets caught up in its own grandiose nature in places.

10/10

#7, The Seven Samurai

Look, I watched the Seven Samurai 7th. Aren't I clever?

This move is the shit. The Seven Samurai is easily the greatest action film ever made, and among the best films of any type. Everything that has come after it essentially just imitates Kurosawa's masterpiece, growing progressively worse as the years past. It's kind of Platonic, I suppose; the further action films move away from the one that originated so many staple elements of the genre, the worse they become. It's funny how one of the greatest visual masterpieces of cinema can be grouped into the same genre as the trash we have nowadays.

Kurosawa has a certain style that no other director I've seen can even approach. The worst film I've ever seen that he made, Rhapsody in August, was still fantastic, and The Seven Samurai, in which he's at his best, is breathtaking. In terms of his aesthetic, if you were to take a still of any frame in the entire three hour movie, I guarantee that it would be a masterful photograph. Kurosawa's sense of composition, tones, light, and atmosphere are unparalleled, and he manages to create something deeply moving simply in the way The Seven Samurai looks. Kurosawa pioneered elements in this film that we take for granted today, such as the shot of the bandit horse cresting the hill, the gathering of the band of reluctant heroes at the beginning of the film, and the uncertain relationship between the heroes and those they protect. I don't think anyone else has done them better.

Also after viewing this film I decided Toshiro Mifune was my new favorite actor. His wild and lunatic performance of Kikuchiyo, seeking recognition from the other samurai and to impress the villagers, is layered and touching, demonstrating a character with a massive ego and wild personality that covers his basic insecurities. He plays perfectly off of the subdued Takashi Shimura, as Kambei Shimada, who turns in a marvelously subtle and collected performance as the weary, jaded warrior who simply wants to do something good. They are all supported by a fantastic cast, both of samurai and warriors, preparing themselves for what could be their final days against the onslaught of the raiding bandit horde. Good times indeed.

Highlights: Innovative, beautiful, suspenseful, and engaging. A visual masterpiece, aided by one of the most colorful casts you can ever find. Camera work that is out of this world. Great fight scenes.

Downers: It's very long, which might bother some people. I was incredibly disappointed when a certain one of the villagers died. I would have liked to have seen more of the bandits.

10/10

#6, On the Waterfront

This one is hard to rate, actually. Before you decry me for blasphemy, my reservations essentially come from the political motivations behind the film. Elia Kazan is one of those called to the McCarthy hearings who actually named names, and got a whole bunch of actors blacklisted. And he's never apologized for it. On the Waterfront was his way of justifying his actions to his critics, most noticeably Arthur Miller. He parallels Brando to himself, then; the informant torn between loyalty to his union and "doing the right thing," who eventually decides to stand up to the corruption. The only thing is, one cannot justifiably compare the corruption of the dockworker's unions to the supposed communism of Hollywood. Plus, I firmly believe that Kazan's actions indirectly lead to John Garfield's fatal heart attack. And Kazan has never apologized for it. This knowledge makes the film difficult, in some ways.

All of that aside, however, One the Waterfront is still a masterpiece. For one thing, Schuldberg's screenplay is a true gem, delivering dialogue that remains fresh, entertaining, and thought-provoking. For such a simple premise, the story remains complex and involving throughout. Kazan, for his political shortcomings, is nevertheless a fantastic director, as the tone and pacing he sets throughout the film complements the script and actors' performances perfectly, and his sense of aesthetic is impressive while subtle.

While the film is certainly one of the greatest in terms of the fantastic pacing, the colorful personalities, and the truly amazing script, it's Brando's performance that sets it in a league of its own. Brando is absolutely perfect as the ex-prize fighter, union favorite who falls from grace. Terry Malloy is a rarity in film, a character who's so complex and yet so human, that he seems at the same time larger than life and as though he could be the guy sitting next to you on the bus, his arms folded and his face buried in his chest. It's impossible not to be moved by Brando in this film.

Highlights: Marlon Brando in the performance of a century. Hardly a slow moment.

Downers: The political message that I can't get over. Also, despite some fantastic dialogue with Brando, Eva Marie Saint's character gets tedious at some points. She's also billed surprisingly low on the credits. Women's lot in Hollywood, I suppose.

9/10

#5, The City of Lost Children

I want to open this by plugging Ron Perlman, who stars in this film. He's a terrific actor, but apparently has difficulty getting work, especially in leading roles, due to his abnormal facial structure. Lame.

I'd always wanted to watch this film all the way through, and this was my chance. I really wasn't disappointed. If you've never heard of it, The City of Lost Children is a lesser-known visual masterpiece by the Frenchman Jean-Pierre Jeunet, the man responsible for Amelie (as well as Alien: Resurrection, but we don't need to speak of that). In my opinion City is actually superior to Amelie. The visuals and tone of the former are far more touching than the latter, and the fact that the Paris of Amelie seems to have been ethnically cleansed has always bothered me. The former simply does not get too caught up in itself. I'll even go so far as to say that the combined performances of Perlman and Judith Vittet, who plays the girl Miette (but seems to have, unfortunately, disappeared entirely from cinema afterwards), surpass that off Audrey Tautou. Yes I said it. But I digress.

The City of Lost Children is held up entirely by its wonderfully colorful characters and visuals, and the dystopic yet strangely beautiful atmosphere of the city that much of the film takes place in. The story, involving Perlman, a circus strongman, in a quest to rescue his adopted little brother from the clutches of a scientist that would steal his dreams to restore his youth, is both simple and imaginative. My only regret is that some of the characters disappear from the film far too quickly and are not referenced again. I would have liked to see some elements of the story elaborated upon or at least closed up, especially in terms of the Cyclops Cult and the orphan children. It felt like there was some potential there that was not fully exploited. Otherwise, however, the imagination, emotion, and combinations of wonder and terror contained within this film are truly beautiful. Even with the imperfect rating, this is another personal favorite.

Highlights: Breathtaking visuals, an atmosphere you could cut with a knife, inventive characters, and fantastic performances from Perlman and Vittet.

Downers: Moments that were all too fleeting or not expounded upon. Fascinating characters that would appear and disappear sooner than I would have liked.

8.5/10

#4, M

The film that established the precedent of what would eventually become film noir. Without M, there never would have been any Maltese Falcon or The Third Man. M is refreshing in that it was created long before the tired old cliches of film noir became tired old cliches. The characters, the story, the tone, the build-up, and the climax, all of these are absolutely stellar in this masterpiece. Though it was the first film Fritz Lang ever made in sound, one would never know it when watching M. Everything falls into place perfectly, from Peter Lorre's character's eery whistling Hall of the Mountain King, to Fritz Lang's imposing aesthetic, and the depth of the even the supporting characters in the film.

Peter Lorre's performance in the film, also, predates Peter Lorre himself becoming a tired old cliche, and he is marvelous. His nervous, erratic, and yet understated personality comes across beautifully, and his final monologue establishes him as a truly complex and intricate villain, driven insane by his actions, and yet unable to stop them. The film is a perfect exploration of morality and the social dynamics of the darker side of culture. One of my personal favorites.

Highlights: Stunning visuals, storytelling, and characters. A touching and disturbing performance by Peter Lorre. Flawless on every level.

Downers: Um. It's in German?

10/10

#3, Soylent Green

Soylent Green is one of those films that everyone seems to know about, but not many, at least in my generation, have actually seen. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, however, as I think Soylent Green's legacy is superior to the actual product. Easily the worst film I've watched that I've included on this list, I simply found myself unsatisfied when the end credits began to roll.

For one thing, I loathe Charlton Heston and everything he stands for. Politics aside, I think he's a terrible actor, and although I have not seen Ben Hur, do not understand why he's garnered so much respect on-screen. Maybe it's just for particular moments, such as the big twist at the end of Planet of the Apes, or his big one-liner at the end of this film.

Besides that, I simply found the film boring. Soylent Green, the miracle food-source that supposedly keeps society functioning, is really nothing more than a MacGuffin, barely relevant to the story except towards the very end. In addition, the "environmental" message that I'd heard so much about in relationship to the film is rather weak. There are also many other plot elements that are barely expounded upon, most notably those riot-control scooper-things. Despite a surprisingly touching curtain-call performance from Edward G. Robinson, and a few interesting visions of tomorrow's world, I found Soylent Green spectacularly mediocre.

Highlights: A moving last few scenes by Edward G. Robinson, surprisingly decent direction and suspense. Some interesting ideas.

Downers. Charlton Heston in every way, shape, and form. Interesting ideas did not go far enough. Shallow on very many levels.

4/10

#2, Metropolis

Let me warn you in advance that most of the films I've watched I've loved, so don't anticipate very many low ratings.

Metropolis (the silent, 1927 version by Fritz Lang, not the recent anime one) really swept me off of my feet when I watched it. The unfortunate thing about this film is that much of the footage has been lost, creating significant gaps in the story, which, in the reconstruction I watched, were filled in by stills and text taken from the original script. While the film is fantastic on its own, I couldn't help but wonder what the lost footage would have added.

The acting style is quite what you'd expect from a 1920's silent film, but this isn't necessarily a bad thing, as I like to think the film is more allegorical than anything. Some of the visuals are quite impressive especially considering the time, and despite some plot gaps and a resoundingly weak arch-villain (Rotwang gets pummelled twice), the film is poignant and thoroughly enjoyable. What truly impressed me was the manner in which some of the shots of metropolis were animated, with lights moving a milimeter at a time between frames to give the impression of live-action. Well beyond its time.

Highlights: Some fantastic and innovative shot. Beautiful artwork. Some fun little allegories with social hierarchy and machines and stuff.

Downers: Missing footage is a big one. The weak villain bothers me more than it should. Some bizarre plot gaps and actions by characters that aren't explained all that well, even with the missing footage.

8/10