Editor's Note

I have done extensive updating of my movie database website today. I have added links to all reviews that I have on this website. I hope to alphabetize the list to make it even more user friendly by the end of the month. This is due to the several suggestions I have received regarding my website format. Hopefully, the final product will be more useful. Thanks for reading.

Some movie rants, two more movie reviews, and readers' comments are all to come this week.

Movie Review #20 (re-entered)

Empire of the Sun (1987)
Directed by Steven Spielberg
Screenplay by Tom Stoppard
Based on the novel by J.G. Ballard

Rating: 5.25/10.00 or ** (out of 4)

***Editor's note: This was re-entered since this mysteriously disappeared from the website.***

When people think of Steven Spielberg films, the first one that comes to their mind is likely not Empire of the Sun. In a random (rather small) poll, I asked a few people my age if they had heard of the movie. Out of fourteen people, zero had heard of it. That's fairly amazing for a film that was made in their lifetimes (albeit in their early ages) by a director well-known by most cinema-goers.

Empire of the Sun was a failure at the box office. It garnered around $10 million after Spielberg spent much more making the film. There could be several reasons for this, such as poor advertising, fairly unrecognizable actors, difficult subject matter, etc. Hence, the film has basically been shelved and forgotten. I had heard of this film at an early age, however, as I collect soundtracks from certain composers (in this case, John Williams). Natural curiosity led me to rent this film recently to see if there was a hidden great work in the dusty shelves of financial film failures. Entertainment Weekly certainly thought so as they claimed several months ago that this is one of the top ten unknown masterpieces.

After viewing the film, I happen to wonder why anyone would consider this movie masterpiece material and almost applaud the fact that it was a box office failure. Most people (maybe) seemed to have good taste by not watching the film, as I found the film disorganized, manipulative, and boring.

I am not a Spielberg fan. I think most of his films are overrated, cheesy, sappy, and extremely manipulative. I still get thoroughly annoyed by the final scenes of E.T. I can still imagine Spielberg's face in the background with the words "Cry! Cry! Cry!" in the background. And the final thirty unnecessary minutes of A.I. that dare the more emotionally sensitive to leave the theater with a dry face. And the absolute horror of a film called Hook. Critically acclaimed films such as Amistad and Saving Private Ryan only have moments of brilliance surrounded by long sequences of mediocrity. His three great accomplishments, the Indiana Jones films, Schindler's List, and Close Encounters of the Third Kind, still have tendencies as I have described above.

This Spielberg bias may have altered my viewpoint somewhat here with Empire of the Sun, but the film lacks fundamental qualities that all require. The first thing that came to my mind after watching the movie was, "What was the point?" After reviewing the movie over and over again in my mind, I could find none. The movie seems desperate to show something, but I am not sure what it is. It leads me to believe that the director is not sure, either.

Empire of the Sun details the life of young Jim (played by future American Psycho Christian Bale) in China during World War II. He is the son of a rich British couple, who attend elegant balls and ride the busy streets of Shanghai in a limousine while ignoring the poverty and desperation of the Chinese surrounding them. Jim is separated from his parents one day as World War II makes its presence in Shanghai, and he would not see them again (during the war). We then see Jim's life on the streets of Shanghai and then eventually in varying prisoner of war camps.

Jim is treated somewhat harshly in the first camp, but he learns quickly from recently found companion Basie (John Malkovich) certain tricks that aid him in small but hopeful ways. Jim, Basie, and others are then selected to a "better" prison camp where they are held essentially for the rest of the war. It was at this point where I almost considered the film a documentary of sorts, but I knew it wasn't because it was trying to be dramatic by using the mystical imagination. Jim always dreams of flying, of airplanes, of fighting in airplanes. He can easily recognize all aircraft and is mesmerized whenever he hears a plane engine. So I continued to wonder where the film was going.

The movie cuts to a later time at the prison camp, where Jim has a bit of freedom to roam the camp making deals and stealing items for Basie's and his benefit. This in itself confused me a bit. Were we supposed to feel that the camp was a cruel, evil place to be if such activities were allowed? It seems a bit conflicting to me since the film makes it appear that the camp ruled with an iron fist when it was so inefficient in doing so.

And then the scenes of manipulation roll around. Basie is beaten severely in one scene after his findings and scams are discovered by a soldier. Jim's acquaintance and friendship with an Asian boy ends tragically and awfully predictably. And there are several scenes that add unnecessary suspense, such as the "swamp search" scene. The film appears to be trying to evoke emotion when it only prevents any from being felt. The film, by using the Hershey candy bar, tries to make a point that only concludes with a scene a four-year-old can predict.

The film has some good qualities, though. Christian Bale and John Malkovich should be commended for their performances. Bale plays Jim with a mixture of hope, dread, and quickened adulthood for such a young child. Malkovich plays Basie as a slightly stoic, scheming, sly individual caring more about himself and his mode of survival than of anyone surrounding him (This tendency leads well to, unfortunately, another highly manipulative scene.). Notable supporting performances are given by Nigel Havers (Dr. Rawlins) and Joe Pantoliano (Basie's chum Frank).

Unfortunately, good acting is surrounded by disorganization in direction. The final scenes of the film reunite Jim with his parents. Jim, at one point in the film, exclaims that he can't remember his parents' faces. This is shown in this final scene, but the scene itself just bamboozles me when it comes to purpose. Again, it makes the film somewhat biographical and not dramatic or emotional, when at other times the film occasionally adds in the dreams of childhood, the horrors of war, and the business dealings of life (dramatic events) during times when it felt that no emotional addition was required. No one purpose outweighs the other (taken as a whole. The film clearly suffers from a lack of organization as a result.

Empire of the Sun, although well shot and well acted, is highly flawed. With an unclear purpose and a high quantity of manipulative or somewhat cheesy moments, Spielberg misses in a film that seemed to have potential. The result is a film that is deservedly collecting dust in cinema archives.

Movie Review #28

Glengarry Glen Ross (1992)
Directed by James Foley
Screenplay by David Mamet
Based on the play by David Mamet

Rating: 7.75/10.00 or *** 1/2 (out of 4)

So, here's the cast: Al Pacino, Jack Lemmon, Alan Arkin, Ed Harris, Kevin Spacey, Alec Baldwin, and Jonathan Pryce. With one of the wittiest and most rhythmic dialogues I have heard in some time, Glengarry Glen Ross features writer David Mamet and the stellar cast at their best. There is such drive in this movie. It's so great to see good actors with interesting characters and excellent dialogue. Moreover, the topic, albeit far from new, is interestingly presented.

Glengarry Glen Ross focuses on four salesmen each at different spots in their lives but all with the same underlying fear. Ricky Roma (Al Pacino) plays a man on top of his game (seemingly). He can sell to anyone; he has the ability to use a person's nearly unnoticeable weaknesses and use them to his advantage. However, there is a growing sense of desperation. To lose a sale is complete and total failure to him. Meanwhile, Shelley Levene (aka Shelley the Machine Levene) has fallen far from his peak of sales occurring when he was younger. Jack Lemmon plays the aging salesman, who has to battle many problems including a lack of sale closures, a sick wife, and an unstable job. Alan Arkin plays George Aaronow, a man obviously not happy where he is with his life. He hates his job; he feels that he cannot sell anyone to anything. However, you seem to get the sense that George has nowhere else to turn, nowhere to go. What brings him his pain is his only mode of security. Finally, there is Dave Moss (Ed Harris), a man so bitter with everything, including his boss, his job, and his second-rate work (when compared to Roma).

The four salesmen attempt to sell real estate to customers (or leads, as they are lovingly called) who are unwilling to buy anything. But John Williamson (Kevin Spacey) continues to recycle them; they won't buy now, but maybe they will later. Williamson hears the various complaints and desperate monologues each of them gives him, but he has strict orders. Williamson breaks no rules and is not willing to be flexible with the four. Williamson has no sympathy, which Levene suggests is because he has not sold anything in his life.

The four are nearly negligible to the company, and so a deal has been made. The top two sellers in the next week get to keep their jobs. First prize is a Cadillac. Second prize is a set of steak knives. The other two get fired. So the desperation they had to begin with has now been multiplied.

The night this is announced (in appropriately arrogant and authoritative fashion) by Blake (Alec Baldwin) and the following day is what we witness. We observe how the four fall apart, in varying ways, to the announcement that removed all sense of stability to their lives. Blake uses every motivation and insult he can think of. He observes how the four should not drink coffee because only closers drink coffee. He points out that he owns an expensive BMW while Moss only drives a Hyundai. He gives them the ABCs of sales (Always Be Closing). He hints at his access to the Glengarry leads in mystical fashion. He refuses to give the four access to them because it would be like throwing them away.

It's a wondrous scene to watch. Blake taunts three men (Roma is trying to sell something at the time at a neighboring bar/restaurant.), and the three have a growing sense of failure while listening to it. Lemmon is especially effective here. You can see the sadness in his face and the quiet hopelessness in his gleamless eyes. Then after Blake's rant is done, Williamson comes back out and gives the three impossible leads to sell. Spacey is superb in this movie. He plays the part of Williamson with such cold detachment. You can see the evil smile just under the surface. He knows the hold he has over these men, and it appears to just tickle him.

The film then splits itself into three parts. Spacey and Lemmon have one sequence, Harris and Arkin have another, and Pacino and Pryce have the third. Spacey and Lemmon display some of their best acting they have ever done in their scenes together. Lemmon gives line after line to Spacey, each with diminishing hope and growing desperation, and Spacey just gets colder and colder and colder. You have to wonder how much fun both had doing these parts. I can imagine each of them with such zeal giving their lines that many re-takes would have to be done since they are too eager to supply the lines. Meanwhile, Harris and Arkin also supply a riveting sequence. Both of them express their characters at the boundary of sanity. They suggest a way to end this madness, but you can tell that both of them are hiding something. Both are scared to wits but for different reasons entirely.

And then there's Pacino and Pryce. In perhaps Pacino's best acting in his career, he tries to sell real estate to a potential customer. He senses an unspoken homosexual tendency with his potential buyer and exploits it very subtly. Just a fantastic scene with some amazing writing.

The next day the hope continues to dwindle. Levene is convinced he has returned to form after selling over 80,000 dollars of real estate that morning. Oh, how wrong he is. Moss has reached his boiling point and can no longer stand to work in the boiler room. Aaronow is scared to wits, more of work than anything. And Roma has to hold on to his sale he made the previous night.

Meanwhile, the office has had a break-in, and the precious leads Blake referred to happened to be what was stolen (a concept Moss and Aaronow had discussed the previous night). And so police interrogation of each character begins. Desperation reaches its climax here, and it results in the failures of each character. And it is astounding to watch.

There are other scenes of genuine brilliance. Take the scene in which Lemmon enters a home of a potential buyer. Everyone involved (including the audience) knows Levene won't make the sale, but he tries and tries and tries. Levene almost resorts to begging in making the sale. No dice. Lemmon's brilliant acting serves the scene so well that you can't help but admire the performance.

And there's some wonderful lines in the movie, too. Aaronow has just been interviewed, and he is so distraught by it that he makes a scene in the office. Williamson then gives him the line: "Will you go to lunch? Just go to lunch. Will you go to lunch?" Spacey delivers the line with a dose of coldness and comedy. Just a great scene.

Meanwhile, Pacino has line after line of witty anger to give Williamson after he ruined his previous night's sale. Pacino offers the lines with such rhythm; it's almost operatic. Pacino has always been the actor with a monologue, but here his (and the film's) purpose is much more honorable. It's a clear case of character development.

Glengarry Glen Ross can be considered a tragicomedy. There are scenes that are funny to witness but hard to bear. It's a story that all of us can relate to. Nobody wants to fail, and it is sometimes this fear that drives us. In fact, it is sometimes the only thing that drives us. And if this failure is reached, the price is complete and final. But there is something more to this film than that. This is also a film that gives actors a chance to utter some wonderful dialogue, to display characters with compassion and true emotion (or lack thereof), and to do something more than just act. The actors are an orchestra, their vocal cords are the instruments, and their deliveries are the cadence. And it's this approach to the film's topic that makes Glengarry Glen Ross a true joy to watch.

Movie Review #27

Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels (1998)
Written and Directed by Guy Ritchie

Rating: 9.00/10.00 or **** (out of 4)

The equation for kinetic energy is an object's mass multiplied by its velocity squared all divided by two. In other words, the more mass you have, the greater the kinetic energy. The more velocity, the greater the kinetic energy.

Movies have a similar equation. If you will, take Chad's function of a movie's success rate, which is equivalent to a movie's substance multiplied by its appropriate pace squared divided by two. Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels has little substance, but it certainly has an enormous amount of appropriate pace. Hence, the movie has a high success rate in Chad's movie function.

LSTSB is the most enjoyable film I have seen since Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. The first time I saw this was in 1998. It's been a while. This movie is just oozing out fun, plot twists, cool attitudes, completely inept but eerily likable characters, and a bold and exceptional director's touch. At times, it almost seems like too much, but you can't deny the joy you have when you watch something like this. It's almost as if you are a young child that has been given two scoops of your favorite ice cream.

Guy Ritchie has made a film of uncommon intelligence, comedy, and suspense. The film features four "con-artists" who barely squeak by, but somehow earn enough money to find their way into a high-stakes poker game with Hatchet Harry (You have to love the names of these characters.). The four cronies are led by Eddie, an amazing poker player. Eddie has an unique skill of determining other players' tensions while playing poker, and thus, rarely loses a fair match. Harry, however, has no ethics whatsoever. He relies upon his large and authoritative aide Barry the Baptist (another cool name) to determine exactly how his hands stack up to Eddie's. Eddie loses a round that costs him a fortune that he and his friends cannot afford. Unfortunately, they have seven days to pay up, or else Barry the Baptist will start chopping the fingers of Eddie and his friends for each day past the due date they can't come up with the money.

Eddie, Tom, Soap, and Bacon luckily and (fortunately) quickly find a scheme that gives them a glimmer of hope. By eavesdropping on their neighbors, they learn of a plan to steal from marijuana growers. Led by Dog, the plan has the beneficial feature of meeting and exceeding the 500,000 pounds the four unfortunate souls have to pay Hatchet Harry.

Oh, but that only begins the story. The marijuana growers work for a vicious drug dealer named Rory Breaker, a man with a very short fuse. And then, in a seemingly different subplot, there are two dolts looking for shotguns that Hatchet Harry has an interest in. Nope, the subplot belongs, trust me. And then there's a hit-man with a strong connection to his son but a sensational amount of hatred toward his hits. Yep, his subplot belongs too. And yet, I've only scraped the surface. Amazingly, Guy Ritchie has flooded his film with characters and plots that all make sense. Unlike a movie that seems clogged with characters, this film requires the numbers. The reason is one of pure humor and plot twist. Ritchie's characters are plot devices, are stylistic necessities, are delights to see on screen.

Many critics and viewers have complained that this film is too confusing, the dialogue is too incoherent, and the characters are too numerous. I agree with none of these critiques. The film's characters and plots are all interconnected, all seem necessary, and all are easy to pick up on if you pay attention. As for the incoherent dialogue, remember, this is a British film. It will be semi-tricky to pick up on everything the first time if you are not used to the accent. Watch it a second time, and I guarantee you'll pick up on most of the things you couldn't the first time. Is the film clogged with characters? The answer is no. Unlike Robert Altman's pictures (Gosford Park readily comes to mind.) and P.T. Anderson films (Boogie Nights, especially), characters in LSTSB are not used for substance value. They are used as pure plot devices to add to the number of interconnections, twists and turns, humorous additions, etc.

LSTSB requires careful attention from the viewer, for sure. It is easy to get lost in character names and schemes each character seems to have. But it's doable, and Ritichie makes us want to participate actively. The film is never boring enough to lose the audience's interest.

Some scenes in this film are masterful. When Dog and his cohorts invade the marijuana makers' headquarters, they meet a caged opening. The resulting sequence is one of the most humorous ten minutes of film I have ever witnessed ("Would everyone stop getting shot?"). The concluding "shoot-out" scenes are fantastically put together. I almost clapped after I witnessed it. Voiceover and flashback work is both humorous and appropriate. Never does the film seem pretentious or artistically overdone. There is a definite style to the work and to each scene, but it always seems to fit just perfectly into the fast-paced rhythm of the film.

Along with the masterful scenes come the immensely enjoyable characters. Barry the Baptist is one of the most likable but devilish villains to ever be placed on screen. Hatchet Harry is sly, cunning, and slimy. Rory Breaker is amazingly vicious in his eerily comedic role as the drug baron from hell. And the four con-men are appropriately stupid, smart, and likable all at once.

Some commendation must given to the acting. Notable performances are given by Nick Moran (Eddie), Jason Flemyng (Tom), Vinnie Jones (Big Chris, Hatchet Harry's hitman), Lenny McLean (Barry the Baptist), P.H. Moriarty (Hatchet Harry), and Vas Blackwood (Rory Breaker). Also adding in solid performances are Frank Harper as Dog, Jason Statham as Bacon, and Dexter Fletcher as Soap. Sting makes a cameo as Eddie's father, and Alan Ford also has a cameo (and he's also the narrator). Ford would later show his amazing ability to be one of the most wicked villains ever displayed on screen in Ritchie's later work: Snatch.

Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels is a load of fun. It might not be the greatest film ever made (far from it), but it is on my top five list of most entertaining movies ever seen. With this in mind, there is no way I could give this movie less than four stars (a highly difficult feat to accomplish--hey, I'm picky.). Whatever the case, the combination of intelligence, wit, style, and characters give this film a unique and wonderful ability to entertain the viewer to nearly insurmountable heights. A definite must-see for any movie lover.

Movie Review #26

Igby Goes Down (2002)
Written and Directed by Burr Steers

Rating: 7.50/10.00 or *** (out of 4)

Igby Goes Down reminds me a lot of The Graduate mixed with Ghost World. All of these films feature a distraught or disillusioned youngster thrown into the harsh realities of life, and none of them are suited for it. They find the unfortunate discoveries of human facades, of unexpected events and consequences, and of hidden and damaging secrets. The story of Igby Slocumb is a story that has been told countless times in movies. However, even though the fundamental storyline for Igby Goes Down is not at all new, what this film has that few others of this genre have is unusual and intelligent characters and dialogue.

Igby Slocumb (Kieran Culkin) is a child of a mentally unstable father (Bill Pullman) and a completely self-absorbed mother (Susan Sarandon). Igby despises her mother, and there is good reason why. When Igby fails school after school that he is in (due to nonchalance and not idiocy), his mother only reacts by harshly reminding him that his failures damage her credibility and reputation. So Igby is sent to another school...and another...and finally he is sent to military school (briefly) before he once again fails to succeed. His indifference is growing, and his desperation is becoming more apparent. Igby, although seemingly uncaring toward his present status, is terrified about what the future brings him.

So Igby hits the streets of New York City, finds a loft owned by his stepfather D.H. Banes (Jeff Goldblum) to live in, and "putters around" waiting for life to continue or to show some sign of progressing to something tangible and hopeful. Along the way, he meets "artist" Rachel (Amanda Peet) and quasi-girlfriend Sookie Sapperstein (Claire Danes). Rachel quickly is in good terms with Igby, who seemingly has invaded the loft in which she resides. However, Rachel the artist (who doesn't seem to produce any art) is more focused on drug use and is almost ignorant of her existence, or anyone else's. Meanwhile, Sookie has a relationship with Igby until Igby's brother Oliver enters the mix. Sookie seems only interested in her entertainment and well-being, and it quickly becomes clear to her and to Igby that Oliver fits those needs much more suitingly.

Oliver, played by Ryan Phillippe, is a successful (?) Columbia student who has only pity and loathing to give Igby. Igby likes neither and actually has the same feelings for Oliver. Phillippe and Culkin's tension and interaction on-screen is the thing to look for in this film. Their interactions are always filled with a silent tension, an obvious conflict, but a mutual yearning for the other's appreciation. Both of them serve as an interesting irony. Each of them pities the other and would have nothing to do with the other's mode of living, but in a way, they are jealous of each other because of their style of living.

I can't quite say for sure what Igby is looking for in life. I'm not sure if he knows. What Igby does know is that he is not free. His life up to this point has been full of bitterness, resentment, and negligence. Igby wants to free himself from this. He knows he needs to get away, but he is not quite sure how to do that. California seems to be the answer to all of his problems, but it is quite clear that California as the place for freedom to reign is a dream. He may end up going there, but is he really finding his life's desires by doing so? It's an interesting question the movie poses.

Igby has no solid relationship. He seeks Sookie's, but her interests only regard herself. Rachel is too prone to drugs and art to even think about deep interaction with other people. D.H. Banes, Igby's stepfather and (somewhat) authoritarian, seems nice on the outside, but is wickedly violent on the inside (which is observed a way into the movie). Mimi the Heinous One (Igby's mother) also regards only herself. It could be impossible that she has ever had true feeling in the world she lives in. Also, note how Mimi and Sookie seem to have similar interests. Yet, Igby only sees hope with Sookie and despair with Mimi. Another interesting contradiction the movie presents. Oliver is too proud and too blind of Igby's despair to have any kind of family relationship with him.

This leaves Igby's father, Jason. Pullman plays Jason as a detached and mentally unaware man with no remote sense of awareness toward others. Jason is mentally ill. It served as a warning to me. Igby relates to his father. Igby goes to visit him in one of the last scenes of the movie, and it was alarming to witness it. Jason does not realize the goings-on around him. The thought that may cross your mind when watching the film: Would Igby follow this path?

Yet, Igby has something his father did not. Independence. Igby eventually does fly off to California; he may not be successful in doing so (The film appropriately ends without telling us.), but he had to go. It's a hopeful but tragic ending to the movie, quietly powerful, ultimately effective.

The film has solid actors giving solid performances. The best performances were from Culkin, who has the right mix of attitude, resistence, and desperation; Phillippe; and Sarandon. Amanda Peet has a small but important role, and she does adequately. Claire Danes' performance was nothing too special, but she succeeds in her character's purpose. Jeff Goldblum gives a cunningly subtle performance as the stepfather.

The film's strongest point is its ability to handle so much at once. The topics of life, living, family secrets, sex as romantic versus sex as necessary, and human interaction are all dealt with intelligently. The film never seems overdone or too complex (P.T. Anderson and Robert Altman can learn from Steers in this regard.). This is coupled with witty one-liners and important monologues. Igby Goes Down has an exceptional screenplay. I wonder how bad this film would have been without it since the dependence on the writing is quite obviously the most important aspect of the film.

There are some drawbacks to this film, though. Although the fundamental questions the movie presents are common to all people, the way in which they are formulated is a bit inaccessible. Furthermore, Steers' style frequently conflicts with the message he is giving his audience. Steers sometimes gives a sense of pretentiousness to his film (as with the unnecessary use of flashbacks and odd camera movements). However, these drawbacks are minor and should not deter the reader from viewing the film.

Igby Goes Down is a highly enjoyable, at times funny, at times dramatic motion picture that allows one to think about life's questions in a new and unusual way. As one watches the film, one cannot help but feel sympathy (or perhaps empathy) for (with) Igby. Based in part on acting, but more importantly on dialogue, this film was a rare gem of the rather dismal movie year 2002. This is one of the year's best films.