Spartacus (1960)

Directed by Stanley Kubrick
Written by Dalton Trumbo
Based on the novel by Howard Fast

Rating: 7.00/10.00 or ***

It is hard to classify Spartacus as Stanley Kubrick's film. In many ways, it is not. The history of the making of Spartacus could make a movie itself, with its credited screen writer blacklisted, its original director removed, and its main actor a heavy hand in the proceedings. No, this is not Kubrick's picture. We know this because Kubrick's earlier works had a complete command of tone; each was trimmed to concise necessity. This one is long, bloated, and poorly guided. Spartacus has also aged, while all other Kubrick films have not. And yet, there is also a consensus of favorable nostalgia with this film. I have it, too.

Spartacus stars an increasingly skilled Kirk Douglas, fresh from his work with Kubrick on his masterful Paths of Glory. Douglas plays the title character with a ferocious simplicity. His face speaks volumes in the film, a solid stone of intensity. Spartacus is a slave in the Roman Empire. His fierce desire for freedom soon leads him to a sentence of death, but he is "saved" by Batiatus (Peter Ustinov). Batiatus sends Spartacus to a gladiator school. Soon, Spartacus learns the skills. While there, he meets Varinia (Jean Simmons) and quickly falls in love. Varinia returns the feelings, admiring Spartacus for his intensity and his gentility.

Two powerful men and their wives visit the school. The wives demand entertainment in the form of death matches. Spartacus loses the battle but is spared death by his opponent. His opponent is killed. Spartacus is so angry by this that he rebels and soon leads a large army of slaves and poor civilians in the fight against an aging, misled empire. The rest of the film follows the victories of Spartacus until Rome finally is strong enough to outnumber his army.

This portion of the film contains the best scenes. I was especially fond of the senate scenes, with the hopeful dictator Crassus (Laurence Olivier) at odds with the wiser, older Gracchus (Charles Laughton). Gracchus appears to be the only one aware of the evil plans of Crassus (to become dictator of the empire). Yet Crassus succeeds because he has youth, energy, and drive. He also conjures up the plan to defeat Spartacus. But his motives are complicated by his desire to defeat Spartacus the individual and not just Spartacus the idea. Crassus was one of the men who attended the gladiator school, and after Spartacus watched his opponent die, he attempted to kill Crassus in anger.

Crassus intends to defeat the spirit of Spartacus the individual by enslaving his now wife Varinia and their newborn child. Gracchus, now outcast as a traitor to the dictatorship of Crassus, has similar individual motives. He intends to punch Crassus in the gut, figuratively speaking. He does so by freeing Varinia and her son. The film ends with Spartacus dying on the cross (by the hand of Crassus, of course) watching as Varinia shows him that his son is freed. The ending does not have the hero survive; rather, his spirit survives.

The problem is that, of course, the motives of Gracchus are not pure. The scene in which Varinia learns of her newfound freedom is intended to make Gracchus heroic. He is not. His motive is vengeance. This is, of course, human. But the filming of the scene does not match the purpose.

There are other such problems that show the film's age and convoluted production. Much of the supporting acting is solid, statured, melodramatic. The character of Julius Caesar (played by John Gavin) is not used to the full potential. There are hints of sexism in the film, making women look like mannequins rather than real people. Portions of the soundtrack take away from the impact of some important scenes.

A lot of the film works, though. Olivier, Laughton, Douglas, Tony Curtis (as the best friend of Spartacus), and Ustinov give solid performances. Tony Curtis makes Antoninus a shy but fiercely loyal individual. Curtis supplies the role with this subtle combination convincingly. This makes the scene in which Spartacus kills Antoninus to spare him from crucifixion especially poignant. Ustinov's zealous performance gives the Batiatus character just the malicious edge necessary to provoke and incite Spartacus. The contrasting dichotomy of Crassus and Gracchus is successful due to Olivier and Laughton giving their respective characters the appropriate quirks and character traits to emphasize their motives. And Douglas commands the screen, as the hero of this film should.

It is hard to imagine that Kubrick enjoyed the final product of this film. His tone is mostly missing from this work. He would not allow it to happen again. His work in the 1960s was stunning, including the criminally underrated Lolita, the acclaimed Dr. Strangelove, and the masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey. But he can be credited for at least sustaining the film's vision and clarifying the film's storyline.

There is a sense of nostalgia watching this film. Spartacus has the feel of a past epic. It has ambition, a sense of young and naive hope, and a more cynical, wiser look at reality. It features the rise and fall of a hero. It has much to say about society, both past and present. It looks like a classic film. And it even feels like it at times. Yet, there is a sense of age beginning to win out on the film. Right now, Spartacus is archaic. But the future may claim it as obsolete.

Magnolia (1999)

Written and Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson

Rating: 7.50/10.00 or ***

Coincidence often weaves itself into the predetermination versus free will debate. The stranger the coincidence, the more one tends to wonder of the potential hand a greater being has over life's events (or, perhaps, how mathematics may dictate our actions rather than us choosing what we do or do not do), Magnolia is a movie of coincidence and the external world playing a hand in the lives of many people. It is one of the most ambitious efforts in the last ten years of cinema.

The film begins with a narrative about strange coincidences. The sequence is fascinating because of its unusual method of setting tone. In essence, we are given three scenarios that seem remarkably impossible, but seemingly actual, that happen to occur by chance. A string of coincidences so unusual that any other chain of events would seem absolutley natural. What is interesting is that another chain of events would really be just as remarkable. Because only this string of events happen in reality.

The methodology in setting the tone is a combination of documentary and humorous commentary. Although Anderson makes the scene a bit too long and somewhat forced in its humorous overtones, the sequence is essential to the film. Without it, the movie would seem like an exercise in philosophy, a look into the world he creates without really explaining the motives for doing so. In the process, Anderson creates a feeling in his film that never goes away: a zealousness rarely seen in film. Often, it seems that the director is so eager to show us a scene that he almost forgets to end the previous one.

This is not a complaint. On the contrary, this gives Magnolia's three hours an energy and drive that 3-hour plus films rarely contain. There is a point where the film gains such a momentum that I dreaded its demise. This momentum is felt in all channels: the acting, the storytelling, the music. In fact, it's the film's "rising action" at work, but rarely has such a film built so excitedly.

Magnolia contains a huge ensemble with related but not necessarily intertwined stories. I think the core of the film is the character of Earl Partridge (Jason Robards), who is near the throes of death. Partridge has a young wife named Linda (Julianne Moore), who is suffering from a combination of guilt and depression over Earl's impending death. His son is Frank (Tom Cruise), who has severed all ties with his father. Frank is a public speaker (denouncer), who encourages men attract women and then overtake them. He is generally a hateful man but obviously damaged from his youth. Earl's nurse is Phil (Philip Seymour Hoffman). Earl asks him to find his son before he dies. Earl is a TV producer. His most popular show is "What Do Kids Know?", a show that features three adults competing against three kids in a game of trivia for cash. The show's host is Jimmy Gator (Philip Baker Hall). He is also dying of cancer. He is married to Rose (Melinda Dillon). Jimmy decides to come clean with Rose about his trespasses. One of them involves his daughter Claudia (Melora Walters), a drug addict who is clearly damaged from her youth. She soon meets a police officer named Jim (John C. Reilly) after a neighbor calls in a noise complaint. Jim is a quirky, simple, driven man who speaks in cliches and comforts in awkward gestures. One of the TV show's contestants is Stanley (Jeremy Blackman), son of Rick (Michael Bowen), who drives his son very hard so he can win a quick buck. Finally, an old contestant of the show named Donnie (William H. Macy) is losing his grasp on the dissipating fumes of his childhood popularity on the show.

Clearly, the film is inundated with characters, and it is a credit to Anderson that it is actually fairly simple to follow these characters as each of their stories unfolds. However, the film tends to suffer from its bloatedness at times. Often there is up to twenty minutes (or more) between scenes involving a particular character, taking away some of the momentum a particular character is giving to the story. On the other hand, Anderson also has an uncanny ability to weave these characters into the story so effortlessly. This is especially notable in the film's second hour, with the music continually climbing, as some characters prepare for the daily filming of the TV show, some characters prepare for the loss of Earl, Frank prepares and takes part in a probing interview, and so on.

I am generally not a big fan of ensembles because it tends to lead to forced entanglements, whether by scene or by meaning, between all the members of the ensemble. Indeed, there are such moments. One involves a musical piece which many of the characters sing aloud. While this is an interesting directorial touch, it also seems a bit heavy-handed. In a sense, it serves as a transition in the film's third hour, which is half quite mainstream, half most certainly not. However, it also seems inherently unnecessary.

The film's final movement, a courageous, unexpected move, leads us back to the film's initial point. The characters are so involved in their own lives that they tend to forget that the world around them has just as much influence. There are hints of this throughout, as in Frank's interview with the curious, subtlely vindictive interviewer (April Grace). Consider the cancers of two of the main characters. With both, there is a sense of making peace with their lives. Thus, they both try to either make amends or to confess their sins. Generally, this leads to a certain failure but also a certain cleansing. "Skies clearing, breezy overnight."

The film's final thirty minutes remind us that the world may have different plans for us. And perhaps the scenes remind us that there are certain events that just make us better people. Consider Donnie's return of the money he was about to steal from his ungrateful employers. Or Frank's visit to Linda in the hospital. Or Stanley's confrontation with his father.

It is an exercise in futility to describe the film in full. Magnolia is inundated with commentary on philosophy, societal interaction, family dysfunction, and the public's duplicitous greed and scorn for the entertainment industry. It is a film with so much to say. Magnolia bursts at the seams. Unfortunately, Anderson lets it get away from himself at times. His world is almost disorienting to watch; at times, it feels Anderson may be so excited by what he has created that he almost loses sight of his original vision. Fortunately, his drive and message successfully win out.

This film was easily my most requested since I began reviewing again this summer. Some requested the film because they hated it; others because they loved it. I admire the film, but I'm not sure I like it. Those that hate the film tend to think it is too loaded with characters, art, and a teaching hand. Those that love the film appreciate its intelligent, complex insights, its tremendous acting, and the overwhelming eagerness with which the story is told. I recognize both sides and have landed somewhere in the middle. Maybe my reaction can be attributed to looking at the whole beach rather than on focusing on a few grains of sand.