Setter’s ‘Spectives: It’s ‘The World’s End’ as We Know It … Big Whoop

Setter Drawing for Blog 082613Ever get the feeling while watching a movie that the actors enjoyed it a lot more than you?

That was exactly my response to The World’s End, the third in the “Cornetto” trilogy of silly, hyper-violent cinematic spoofs starring Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. (The previous two were Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz.) I’m not a huge fan of the other films in this loose series, though they’re diverting enough on a rainy day when nothing else is on. The World’s End, however, felt more slapdash and cobbled together, as if the script – which has something to do with robotic aliens taking over the world as a stuck-in-the-’80s loser attempts to make a final, epic pub crawl with his now-grown-up buddies – was devised on the fly over brewskis. Ultimately, there were a lot fewer laughs in this flick than I hoped for, despite a strong cast (Martin Freeman plays one of the pals) and what was probably an immense amount of money spent on blue, extraterrestrial blood.

Part of the reason why I’m not a “Cornetto” series fan is the insistence on frustratingly kinetic editing that typifies many of the “action” scenes. I realize this is all part of the idea – that this is spoofery and it’s all very lighthearted – but it makes for dull viewing when done over and over again. And though I feel that Hot Fuzz is the best of the lot, I think they all smack of missed opportunities, as if too many jokes fell by the wayside. If you’re going to spoof something, go all the way, à la Airplane! or Blazing Saddles. I’m not sure what the creators of The World’s End were thinking, but there were some semi-serious moments that didn’t really work in such a wild and woolly context.

Once again, I’m in the minority on this; the Cornetto trilogy is a popular one, and I seem to be, oftentimes, at odds with popular cinematic taste. I stand by my perspective on The World’s End, though, with the end result being that on the whole, I’d rather have an ice cream than watch this movie again.

Skip’s Quips: The Verdict on ‘Argo’ Is … Pretty Smooth Sailing

Blog Sketch 082813I somehow knew Argo was going to be good, yet for no apparent reason I’ve been avoiding it.

Until last night. Saw it for the first time. And you know what? It’s a more than decent suspenser. OK, as a friend noted, there were too many “ticking clocks.” But it was tense enough, with sharp direction from Ben Affleck, who also starred in the film. There were also good turns from Alan Arkin, who was a hoot as a cynical yet patriotic producer, John Goodman and Bryan Cranston. Cinematography and editing were solid; perhaps there was a bit too much herky-jerkiness with the camera. All in all, though, it was quite well done.

I’m not usually a big fan of Affleck’s work; as an actor, I find him rather mannered. But in this movie, he was relatively subdued, and it worked nicely. I hope his next opus will be just as strong.

Skip’s Quips: Details on the ‘Interiors’ Doctrine

Blog Sketch 082813These days, I refuse to see any Woody Allen movie made after 1975.

That’s right: I didn’t see Blue Jasmine. You know why? Because I already know I won’t like it.

Plus, Mia Farrow told me years ago that I have a “beautiful singing voice,” so I do kinda feel biased. But that’s another story.

The problem is, I just don’t care for any of Allen’s films with serious themes. Even Annie Hall; it just isn’t my favorite. The non-humorous dialogue and situations peppering his later pictures aren’t credible in my book. And I can’t help but wonder why he gravitated to such content after making some of the most hilarious films to hit the screen in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Those include Bananas, Sleeper, and Love and Death, laugh-a-minute jokefests that, to my mind, are of higher quality and greater import than anything he has made since. He’s a terrific comedian. Why does he seem to feel an all-comedy flick is beneath him?

I’ve remarked before on the phenomenon of great comic actors taking on serious roles in, perhaps, an effort to be recognized for more “significant” work. Yet I wonder sometimes about a theory I have: that great actors are often great comedians, yet great comedians aren’t always great actors. It is just a theory, but it has held true in many a case.

Don’t worry; I’m not gonna patent it or anything.

Woody’s not going to go back in time, I assume, and recreate the past. We’ll just have to live with his annual or semiannual churnout of lackluster, serious films dotted with big stars. And I will have to live with not going to see them. What price contentment, huh?

I’ll just put on Sleeper instead.

Setter’s ‘Spectives: Why We Are the Makers of Manners

Setter Drawing for Blog 082613It’s now been a quarter-century since I last saw someone scream in the movie theater.

The rebel yell occurred in Manhattan during a showing of Kenneth Branagh’s intense, glorious Henry V, which had recently debuted. Crowded, hot and uncomfortable was the interior as a host of New Yorkers, squished together in narrow seats, silently watched the actor perform with the utmost passion. When it came to the famed St. Crispin’s Day speech, one of Shakespeare’s finest, the music went into crescendo mode. The theater listened. Branagh reached a climactic point.

And one man sitting in front of me pumped his fist high, like a champion weightlifter.

“Yeeeaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” he screamed, louder than any Patrick Doyle melody.

We stared at him, surprised. Some of us laughed. Me, I smiled. I knew how he felt. He, like the rest of us, wanted to join Henry’s band of brothers. The speech was so well-acted that the guy forgot he wasn’t part of the English army at Agincourt.

I’ve never heard anything as raucous in a movie theater since. I’m proud—it was a unique cinematic experience. Yet it also tells us something about great art: that it’s able, at its best, to transform us, inspire us. That there’s nothing else as immersive … and we can happily disappear into the canvases we embrace.

Sometimes I wish I had done the same thing at that time. I certainly felt like doing it. I realize, however, that the moment belonged to the fellow in front of me, as well as Branagh, whose speech made the reaction possible.

And it’s better that way, I think. Movie magic couldn’t, in my opinion, have been better expressed.

Skip’s Quips: Slamming the State of Serious ’70s Sci-Fi

Blog Sketch 082813Gosh, Rollerball is a mediocre movie.

I came to this realization after giving the Norman Jewison-helmed sci-fi flick yet another chance on Turner Classic Movies last night. It confirmed all my previous assessments: that it’s pretentious, tiresome and not as introspective as it thinks it is. The blame can partly fall on the script–which documents a future society in which corporations rule the world and sanction the violent, eponymous arena game–but it also features a lethargic performance by the usually reliable James Caan, slow-paced direction by Jewison (no, shots of people turning their heads to stare at the protagonist menacingly are not a substitute for character development) and dubious social commentary … most lamentably evidenced by a scene in which a posse of doltish partygoers representing, I assume, our worst inner voices, commit arboricide with the help of a rather powerful gun.

OK, I get it. Humans are bad. We like wars and killing trees. Fine.

We also like quality filmmaking–and Rollerball doesn’t cut it. The main problem, however, is that it could’ve been so much better, like so many other serious 1970s sci-fi flicks. Logan’s Run, A Boy and His Dog, Soylent Green … science fiction really had a lot to say in that era, but a scarce few films then aced the sniff test. I wish the folks behind them had taken the time to streamline the scripts, make the messaging less heavy-handed, kept the preaching to a minimum. Forbidden Planet‘s a benchmark. So is Paul Verhoeven’s Total Recall. Spare, concise screenplays, quick-flowing dialogue, tense direction. That’s all you want in a good sci-fi movie, and you don’t find that a lot in the “golden” age of the 1970s. Ideas are almost commonplace. Execution isn’t.

So why is that? I know that period heralded an age of cinematic risks, and many of the non-sci-fi films then exemplified that. Yet with the exception of pictures such as Fantastic Planet and A Clockwork Orange, many of these flicks don’t live up to their expectations. Yes, I know the 1970s also saw the debuts of Alien and Star Wars, but those are less like “message” movies than old-fashioned, leave-your-thinking-at-the-door entertainment.

Rollerball, at its core, is a message movie. And it doesn’t work. Does that mean sci-fi should be devoid of messages altogether–that it should stick to what it does best? (Read: lasers.)

I don’t think so. But it’s something I’ll ponder next time I watch one of these futuristic “man-must” movies. Man must do this, man must do that.

Man must make better science fiction films, methinks.

Setter’s ‘Spectives: Let’s Put On a Movie-Inspired Show!

Setter Drawing for Blog 082613Do you remember the (sometimes) good old days when Hollywood turned Broadway musicals into motion pictures?

Yes, we still get that to some extent with Chicago, Phantom and others of their ilk. But, uh …

Well, but. It’s not the same, is it?

Definitely not the same is the trend to turn motion pictures into Broadway musicals. The Lion King is one example. Another’s Newsies. Even My Favorite Year got into the stagebound act (terribly, I might add).

What are we going to say about the cinema 20 years from now? “Hey, where were you when the film of the musical based on the movie The Producers came out?”

I know how I’d respond: “Me? I was watching the film of the opera based on the Beaumarchais play The Marriage of Figaro at the Met. After that, we ate at the restaurant spun off the novel based on the  video game inspired by … ”

Blah, blah, blah.

There’s something truly uninspired about creating a play or musical based on a movie–especially if the original’s a good one. Film’s not like theater; it’s permanent, constant. Actors don’t flub lines one night and get them perfectly the next. You’ve got a completed work.

So if the source movie’s good–as is the case with My Favorite Year and The Producers–why bother translating it for the stage? Shouldn’t we consider ourselves lucky that we have a film we can always return to, laugh at, quote the lines from? And isn’t that one of the main reasons why we can watch great movies over and over again … because we know them like we know our significant others, our families, our friends?

Because they never change?

That’s why I’m not interested in seeing any more Broadway shows based on films. The theater begs for interpretation, transformation; movies don’t. I’ll watch the motion picture version of Sunset Boulevard, not the musical, thank you very much. Because the latter, like so many of its kind, just isn’t ready for its close-up.