So I had heard that they (the all-powerful and all-vague They) were making a movie about GW Bush, and I might have even heard that it was going to be controversial for being the first presidential biopic to come out while the president is still in office, but I just got the details of this shindig, and hoo-boy.
Directed by Oliver Stone, starring Josh Brolin (after No Country for Old Men, I'm definitely a fan) as Bush, Richard Dreyfus as a startlingly similar-looking Cheney, and (I have to throw this in because I love her) Ellen Burstyn as Barbara Bush. I don't know if it's going to be any good, but my curiosity is definitely piqued. Check out these pictures.
http://movies.yahoo.com/photos/movie-stills/gallery/921/w-stills#photo0
Anyway. In addition, now that I'm a film student I get to take all of the random ideas and theories floating around up top and (maybe) actually write papers on them. Here's a potential paper topic for my Film History/Historiography class. Here are some thoughts:
Some of this class' readings made me start thinking about historical fiction, and how it's always been such a popular medium both for novels and cinema, and yet there is always such an inevitable backlash from people claiming the writer/filmmaker was in a certain sense trying to pull a fast one on us, trying to convince us of a history that is entirely inaccurate. I don't think that most novelists or filmmakers that set out to create "historical fiction" are really trying to give us a history lesson (that's why it's called fiction), at least not in the way that such critics claim, but that whole idea of the "spirit of the truth," or at least the framework of the truth used for the purposes of entertainment, is really interesting to me.
Obviously I would have to narrow it down quite a bit or else risk a "I'm interested in historical fiction" "well good for you I'm interested in stamp collecting, what's your point?" sort of issue. Maybe I could choose one particular historical event that has frequently been used in cinematic and literary adaptations (the life of Anne Boleyn, for the sake of argument) and compare both the historical evidence of the event itself to various "adaptations" of it (perhaps the present tv show "The Tudors" and Lubitsch's film "Anna Boleyn") and examine both the changes/liberties that the director has taken with historical fact, as well as audience reactions. Have people ever really taken such things as bona fide history lessons? For that matter, could works like this, at least in some way, be constructively used as such? Or are questions like that far too subjective?
So yeah. that's what I got so far.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Burn After Reading
(Look at me, all writing on a recent release and everything...)
If/when I see Burn After Reading again, I'll make a point to count the number of times the phrase "what the fuck?!?" is uttered. These three words basically summarize the "plot" as well as the "point" of the Coen Brothers' new film, if it can be said to have either (hence the scare quotes). It's like a farce of old, characters constantly acting at cross-purposes (intentionally or unintentionally), confusing each other and themselves, foiling allies, helping foes, and everyone sleeping with each other.
As the CIA Superior instructs the officer briefing him of the situation says, "Well... report back to me when any of it makes sense."
The movie feels like less of a finished masterpiece like No Country for Old Men, Fargo, or even The Big Lebowski, and more like the Coen bros. just got high one Saturday afternoon and decided, "hey man, let's call over some friends and make a fuckin movie man. let's just do it. I'll get a keg, you call George." And the film does feature a number of Coen frequent fliers-- George Clooney and Frances McDormand most notably. Much has been made of the film's "frivolous" nature in critical reviews, and while in one sense I agree, on the other hand I'd ask what's so wrong with frivolity. The film is hilarious.
The cast is fabulous and makes the ridiculous morass of a plot work; McDormand as a gym employee obsessed with financing a set of cosmetic surgeries and John Malkovich as a hot-headed recently-unemployed intelligence agent are particularly funny. Much has been made of Brad Pitt's turn as a beautiful dumb-as-a-doornail fitness trainer and, while he is funny, it's tough to compete with the likes of Malkovich and McDormand. That's not to say he doesn't have moments of being really quite funny, but it comes off once or twice as being just-ever-so-slightly overplayed.
I think what I liked most about Burn After Reading was the fact that it was so much of a classical farce, but made postmodern (that's right, I said fuckin po-mo) by the fact that the characters constantly call attention to the farce with the aforementioned "what the fuck?!?" A number of characters say this over and over again, especially the CIA Superior, and given the weird-and-getting-weirder events of the film, it's a natural question to ask. But usually it's the job of the audience to ask such questions; here, the film points out its own absurdity. And I like that. I also like that even though we get attached to the characters, we don't really care that much when most of them die by the end. But what kind of tragic-comic farce would it be if they didn't?
Anyway, it's a fun ride, and after No Country for Old Men, I can see how the Coen Brothers needed a little frivolity. It's not a masterpiece, but it's solid entertainment with a pleasing dose of self-consciousness. I give it a solid four out of five muffins.
If/when I see Burn After Reading again, I'll make a point to count the number of times the phrase "what the fuck?!?" is uttered. These three words basically summarize the "plot" as well as the "point" of the Coen Brothers' new film, if it can be said to have either (hence the scare quotes). It's like a farce of old, characters constantly acting at cross-purposes (intentionally or unintentionally), confusing each other and themselves, foiling allies, helping foes, and everyone sleeping with each other.
As the CIA Superior instructs the officer briefing him of the situation says, "Well... report back to me when any of it makes sense."
The movie feels like less of a finished masterpiece like No Country for Old Men, Fargo, or even The Big Lebowski, and more like the Coen bros. just got high one Saturday afternoon and decided, "hey man, let's call over some friends and make a fuckin movie man. let's just do it. I'll get a keg, you call George." And the film does feature a number of Coen frequent fliers-- George Clooney and Frances McDormand most notably. Much has been made of the film's "frivolous" nature in critical reviews, and while in one sense I agree, on the other hand I'd ask what's so wrong with frivolity. The film is hilarious.
The cast is fabulous and makes the ridiculous morass of a plot work; McDormand as a gym employee obsessed with financing a set of cosmetic surgeries and John Malkovich as a hot-headed recently-unemployed intelligence agent are particularly funny. Much has been made of Brad Pitt's turn as a beautiful dumb-as-a-doornail fitness trainer and, while he is funny, it's tough to compete with the likes of Malkovich and McDormand. That's not to say he doesn't have moments of being really quite funny, but it comes off once or twice as being just-ever-so-slightly overplayed.
I think what I liked most about Burn After Reading was the fact that it was so much of a classical farce, but made postmodern (that's right, I said fuckin po-mo) by the fact that the characters constantly call attention to the farce with the aforementioned "what the fuck?!?" A number of characters say this over and over again, especially the CIA Superior, and given the weird-and-getting-weirder events of the film, it's a natural question to ask. But usually it's the job of the audience to ask such questions; here, the film points out its own absurdity. And I like that. I also like that even though we get attached to the characters, we don't really care that much when most of them die by the end. But what kind of tragic-comic farce would it be if they didn't?
Anyway, it's a fun ride, and after No Country for Old Men, I can see how the Coen Brothers needed a little frivolity. It's not a masterpiece, but it's solid entertainment with a pleasing dose of self-consciousness. I give it a solid four out of five muffins.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Mea culpa, friends, mea culpa
So it's been almost a month, and I've seen the new Raiders movie, I've seen the Departed, I've seen Barton Fink, and I've seen *coughhide* Baby Mama. I fear it's been too long since seeing most of them to write anything particularly useful, but I'll try.
First, as promised, Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skulls. I have to say that I was really pleasantly surprised by this flick. It had to have been really difficult to make an Indiana Jones sequel that didn't piss off people like me, people who hold the originals near and dear to their hearts, and for that I tip my hat and say Well Played Sirs, Well Played Indeed. Now, I've heard a lot of people bitchin about the aliens. Yeah, the aliens are pretty ridiculous. But recall, if you will, the ending of Raiders of the Lost Ark. The Ark of the Covenant opened and NAZIS' FACES MELTED OFF. That's a ridiculous scene if I've ever seen one, and that's why this new movie works so well-- it keeps very close to the spirit of the originals. Some cool action sequences, some fun dialogue tossed back and forth, a beyond-improbable climax and, most importantly, Harrison Ford.
Oh, and huge surprise on my part: I actually didn't want to stab Shia Labeouf in the face. I think that was the biggest worry for me-- some kid from the Disney channel playing Indiana Jones' long-lost son? It sounded like a recipe for cheesy hackneyed father-son scenes that do nothing but make me squirm with murderous rage. But surprisingly enough... it didn't! I can't say I really actively liked his character, but the mere fact that they introduced an Indiana Jones Jr character without pissing me off was quite a feat. And I liked the final (or penultimate or something, sorry it's been a little while) scene where Indiana Jones' trademark fedora is blowing down the aisle of the church and the kid is about to pick it up-- a none-too-subtle metaphor for the adventuring mantle being passed from father to son, as it were-- but at the last minute Harrison Ford snatches it out of Shia's hands, remaining the top dog we all know he is, even at 60-whatever. It could've been a stupid "hey look at this" metaphor moment, but they completely cut the meaningful-metaphor in half with playful irony by having Harrison snatch back the hat, and in the end that's why I liked this movie. It didn't take itself too seriously, and it seemed like everyone involved just had fun with it. And when filmmakers have fun, that usually means the audience has fun.
Oh, just one word about the CG animals: NO.
I guess this just goes to show that George Lucas really does ruin movies by writing and directing them. This was much better sequel than the Star Wars prequels and I think it was largely due to Steven Spielberg's directing skillz. Anyway, all in all, I was surprisingly pleased by this flick (really the best word to describe it) and would willingly pay money to see the next installment, which given the monetary success of Crystal Skulls is basically inevitable.
Barton Fink soon, hopefully. I just saw it last night, so I should write about it before I forget anything. It's a complicated film though, so I think I want another day or two to mull it over. I don't know how I feel about it yet (well, I know how I feel-- I thought it was brilliant-- but I don't know what I think, I guess). It's a movie that deserves to have something intelligent and well-thought-out said about it, and I am as always eager to not look like a dumbass.
First, as promised, Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skulls. I have to say that I was really pleasantly surprised by this flick. It had to have been really difficult to make an Indiana Jones sequel that didn't piss off people like me, people who hold the originals near and dear to their hearts, and for that I tip my hat and say Well Played Sirs, Well Played Indeed. Now, I've heard a lot of people bitchin about the aliens. Yeah, the aliens are pretty ridiculous. But recall, if you will, the ending of Raiders of the Lost Ark. The Ark of the Covenant opened and NAZIS' FACES MELTED OFF. That's a ridiculous scene if I've ever seen one, and that's why this new movie works so well-- it keeps very close to the spirit of the originals. Some cool action sequences, some fun dialogue tossed back and forth, a beyond-improbable climax and, most importantly, Harrison Ford.
Oh, and huge surprise on my part: I actually didn't want to stab Shia Labeouf in the face. I think that was the biggest worry for me-- some kid from the Disney channel playing Indiana Jones' long-lost son? It sounded like a recipe for cheesy hackneyed father-son scenes that do nothing but make me squirm with murderous rage. But surprisingly enough... it didn't! I can't say I really actively liked his character, but the mere fact that they introduced an Indiana Jones Jr character without pissing me off was quite a feat. And I liked the final (or penultimate or something, sorry it's been a little while) scene where Indiana Jones' trademark fedora is blowing down the aisle of the church and the kid is about to pick it up-- a none-too-subtle metaphor for the adventuring mantle being passed from father to son, as it were-- but at the last minute Harrison Ford snatches it out of Shia's hands, remaining the top dog we all know he is, even at 60-whatever. It could've been a stupid "hey look at this" metaphor moment, but they completely cut the meaningful-metaphor in half with playful irony by having Harrison snatch back the hat, and in the end that's why I liked this movie. It didn't take itself too seriously, and it seemed like everyone involved just had fun with it. And when filmmakers have fun, that usually means the audience has fun.
Oh, just one word about the CG animals: NO.
I guess this just goes to show that George Lucas really does ruin movies by writing and directing them. This was much better sequel than the Star Wars prequels and I think it was largely due to Steven Spielberg's directing skillz. Anyway, all in all, I was surprisingly pleased by this flick (really the best word to describe it) and would willingly pay money to see the next installment, which given the monetary success of Crystal Skulls is basically inevitable.
Barton Fink soon, hopefully. I just saw it last night, so I should write about it before I forget anything. It's a complicated film though, so I think I want another day or two to mull it over. I don't know how I feel about it yet (well, I know how I feel-- I thought it was brilliant-- but I don't know what I think, I guess). It's a movie that deserves to have something intelligent and well-thought-out said about it, and I am as always eager to not look like a dumbass.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Raiders Rating
Oh, and Raiders of the Lost Ark definitely gets 4 1/2 out of 5 delicious fedora-tastic muffins.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Indiana Jones, and other things
So laziness has won yet again and alas, it looks like Musical #2 will not happen. I could say a few words on Sweeney Todd anyway... for example, it was almost exactly what I expected, that is, a Tim Burton movie in which Helena Bonham Carter and Johnny Depp sing, complete with the expected accoutrements (deliciously dark moments, fantastic gothy-type costumes [including some black-and-white-striped dresses for Helena Bonham Carter that, while being completely expected in a Tim Burton movie, I also really coveted], etc). It was obvious that neither Depp nor Carter were really singers per se, but both carried it off relatively well, and as mentioned all the way back in the third or so entry in this blog, there is no movie than Alan Rickman does not make better.
As Sarah mentioned in a conversation we had on the film, Across the Universe and Sweeney Todd could be quite usefully contrasted by saying that Across the Universe cast singers rather than actors, which made the acting less impressive, and Sweeney Todd cast actors rather than singers, which made the songs less impressive. I think it should be at least somewhat obvious which approach I prefer-- yes, Burton's-- and even though the all the fake blood was a bit much for me to take (very intentionally over-the-top and stylized yes, but still gross) I did find Sweeney Todd to be quite entertaining.
Well. It seems I've said more than a few words on Sweeney Todd. I didn't intend to, I promise-- and I don't want to say anymore because it's been a few weeks since I saw it and without the film freshly in my head, I don't want to make any sort of foible that could later be used to poke holes in my credibility. ie make me look like a jackass.
My thought here actually was to tackle Raiders of the Lost Ark. Not in fact "Raiders of the Lost Arc," as I accidentally typed into imdb.com the other day... ah, Spielberg's epic film about the cosine that got away...
So much for not looking like a jackass.
Anyway. Indiana Jones and Star Wars were the two movies my dad made my sister and I watch as children and whatever differences my parents and I may have now, I still absolutely love both of these movies and I'm glad my dad introduced me to them at such a young age. In anticipation of the upcoming Indiana Jones movie, I thought I'd dash out a review of Raiders of the Lost Ark. I know it's the hip thing to be doing right now-- the Onion AV club just did it after all-- but what the hell. All I have to say is, I had better not get my heart broken again like with those tragic Star Wars prequels-- I hold out hope, but it is the hope of a movie-goer who is all too familiar with betrayal of a disastrous sequel.
Raiders is far superior to Temple of Doom, and somewhat superior to Last Crusade. Everyone says it, but it's true. Last Crusade is sweet due to the dynamic between Sean Connery and Harrison Ford, but Raiders is the true gem. Yeah, it's not a fantastic film (again the [perhaps-contrived?] contrast here between Film and Movie) but it's a damn good movie. George Lucas' vision (and he should stick to the 'visioning,' really), combined with Steven Spielberg's ability to create lasting movie images (witness Indiana Jone's iconic fedora-silhouette) combined with John Williams' ability to write comparably iconic theme music, combined with Harrison Ford's charisma make this a quality quality flick. And Karen Allen is the best of the Indiana Jones heroines/love-interests. She is the most likable, the most intelligent, and has the best dynamic with Ford. Yeah, she does the wilting useless woman thing from time to time, but she's feisty in a way that isn't irritating. The fact that she's going to be in the new Indiana Jones movie is one of the things that gives me hope about it.
And John Rhys-Davies is so wonderful. I would so have his Sallah/Gimli/Treebeard/DaVinci babies. He's good without trying, in the same way Harrison Ford is. And there's a monkey-- how can you argue with a monkey? And oh shit Nazis! And the best movie-scene story ever, of an elaborate market-place swordfight scene changing to Ford whipping out his pistol and just shooting a guy due to having diarrhea that day. Maybe it's an urban legend, maybe not, but I like it.
It's really difficult to write or think anything about Indiana Jones at this point, given just how iconic it's become, how much a part of our cultural lexicon. That scene with Indiana running from the giant rock-- what can you even say about that? Even people who haven't seen the movie (all fifteen of them) have seen that scene referenced over and over in pop culture. How can anything be said about Indiana Jones on its own, as it doesn't exist on its own anymore but rather as this thing, out in culture, that immediately comes to mind whenever one sees a fedora, or a whip, or hears the tiniest snippet of that theme music? Da-dada-da... da-dada... you know you're thinking it. If not, I refuse to acknowledge you as a person.
Anyway, in the end, it's really that very iconic quality that makes me have to nod to Spielberg and say Well Played, Sir, Well Played. Cause how many movies have taken on that quality in our stimulus-bombarded culture? Jaws, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park? Well done him. Again, not great films, but damn good movies. Not Room With a View, but Room With a View of Hell, Staircase of Satan, Pond of Death.
I will continue to hold out hope for the new Indiana Jones movie (perhaps only to be dashed on the cruel rocks that only a bad sequel to a beloved original can provide), and will write about it when I see it.
As Sarah mentioned in a conversation we had on the film, Across the Universe and Sweeney Todd could be quite usefully contrasted by saying that Across the Universe cast singers rather than actors, which made the acting less impressive, and Sweeney Todd cast actors rather than singers, which made the songs less impressive. I think it should be at least somewhat obvious which approach I prefer-- yes, Burton's-- and even though the all the fake blood was a bit much for me to take (very intentionally over-the-top and stylized yes, but still gross) I did find Sweeney Todd to be quite entertaining.
Well. It seems I've said more than a few words on Sweeney Todd. I didn't intend to, I promise-- and I don't want to say anymore because it's been a few weeks since I saw it and without the film freshly in my head, I don't want to make any sort of foible that could later be used to poke holes in my credibility. ie make me look like a jackass.
My thought here actually was to tackle Raiders of the Lost Ark. Not in fact "Raiders of the Lost Arc," as I accidentally typed into imdb.com the other day... ah, Spielberg's epic film about the cosine that got away...
So much for not looking like a jackass.
Anyway. Indiana Jones and Star Wars were the two movies my dad made my sister and I watch as children and whatever differences my parents and I may have now, I still absolutely love both of these movies and I'm glad my dad introduced me to them at such a young age. In anticipation of the upcoming Indiana Jones movie, I thought I'd dash out a review of Raiders of the Lost Ark. I know it's the hip thing to be doing right now-- the Onion AV club just did it after all-- but what the hell. All I have to say is, I had better not get my heart broken again like with those tragic Star Wars prequels-- I hold out hope, but it is the hope of a movie-goer who is all too familiar with betrayal of a disastrous sequel.
Raiders is far superior to Temple of Doom, and somewhat superior to Last Crusade. Everyone says it, but it's true. Last Crusade is sweet due to the dynamic between Sean Connery and Harrison Ford, but Raiders is the true gem. Yeah, it's not a fantastic film (again the [perhaps-contrived?] contrast here between Film and Movie) but it's a damn good movie. George Lucas' vision (and he should stick to the 'visioning,' really), combined with Steven Spielberg's ability to create lasting movie images (witness Indiana Jone's iconic fedora-silhouette) combined with John Williams' ability to write comparably iconic theme music, combined with Harrison Ford's charisma make this a quality quality flick. And Karen Allen is the best of the Indiana Jones heroines/love-interests. She is the most likable, the most intelligent, and has the best dynamic with Ford. Yeah, she does the wilting useless woman thing from time to time, but she's feisty in a way that isn't irritating. The fact that she's going to be in the new Indiana Jones movie is one of the things that gives me hope about it.
And John Rhys-Davies is so wonderful. I would so have his Sallah/Gimli/Treebeard/DaVinci babies. He's good without trying, in the same way Harrison Ford is. And there's a monkey-- how can you argue with a monkey? And oh shit Nazis! And the best movie-scene story ever, of an elaborate market-place swordfight scene changing to Ford whipping out his pistol and just shooting a guy due to having diarrhea that day. Maybe it's an urban legend, maybe not, but I like it.
It's really difficult to write or think anything about Indiana Jones at this point, given just how iconic it's become, how much a part of our cultural lexicon. That scene with Indiana running from the giant rock-- what can you even say about that? Even people who haven't seen the movie (all fifteen of them) have seen that scene referenced over and over in pop culture. How can anything be said about Indiana Jones on its own, as it doesn't exist on its own anymore but rather as this thing, out in culture, that immediately comes to mind whenever one sees a fedora, or a whip, or hears the tiniest snippet of that theme music? Da-dada-da... da-dada... you know you're thinking it. If not, I refuse to acknowledge you as a person.
Anyway, in the end, it's really that very iconic quality that makes me have to nod to Spielberg and say Well Played, Sir, Well Played. Cause how many movies have taken on that quality in our stimulus-bombarded culture? Jaws, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park? Well done him. Again, not great films, but damn good movies. Not Room With a View, but Room With a View of Hell, Staircase of Satan, Pond of Death.
I will continue to hold out hope for the new Indiana Jones movie (perhaps only to be dashed on the cruel rocks that only a bad sequel to a beloved original can provide), and will write about it when I see it.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Another Hulk movie
Really? I mean... really?
I think the obvious question here is.... why? And now they're dragging Edward Norton into it. I am decidedly skeptical.
Oh, and a review of Sweeney Todd will be coming soon, which should make the last post's title of "Musical #1" make a lot more sense. And a new muffins-based rating system. Promise.
I think the obvious question here is.... why? And now they're dragging Edward Norton into it. I am decidedly skeptical.
Oh, and a review of Sweeney Todd will be coming soon, which should make the last post's title of "Musical #1" make a lot more sense. And a new muffins-based rating system. Promise.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Musical #1: Across the Universe
I may actually be more torn about this movie than any other I've seen. No really-- hear me out. It's not just that it was sort of okay, not too great but not too bad... no, that would be too easy. Instead, I found it spectacular and gorgeous in some parts and off-puttingly awkward and hackneyed in others. I still don't know how I feel about this film, actually, and unless I see it again at some point, I expect this ambivalence is just what I'm going to be taking away from Across the Universe.
First off: the dialogue. Ouch. Cheesy story I can handle, suspension of disbelief about characters bursting into song I can handle. But that dialogue, man... I'm sorry, but it was really bad. Distractingly bad. Like, I have to look away from the screen and cringe and I'm losing faith in this film with every passing moment bad. Yeah, it's possible that maybe they were going for stiff cheesy dialogue on purpose as if even the spoken words were song lyrics, but if so, it needed to be done better. More purposefully.
But--- this brings me to the musical numbers. The whole point-- conceptually, artistically, whatever-- of this movie. Some of them were merely there, some were roped in a little too artificially (i.e. Jude looking at a pile of strawberries and then bursting into "Strawberry Fields Forever"... hmm) but overall, they were what made this movie great. The very first time I had to stop whatever else I was doing or thinking about and stare in wonder at the screen was the scene of "Let it Be" during the Detroit Riots. It was actually rather heartwrenching, which is an impressive feat for a movie (particularly a musical) to accomplish. The trippy "I am the Walrus" number was also pretty damn sweet and gorgeously done, and the final "All you Need is Love" song was also really quite lovely.
A word about Eddie Izzard. Now, I *love* Eddie Izzard, maybe a little more than is even justified. And I love the fact that he was in this movie. But.... the Mr. Kite scene was really unnecessary. And not unnecessary in a Here Do You Want a Chocolate Bar, Sure Why Not sort of way. Unnecessary in a Here Do You Want This Pinecone I Found Outside It Kind of Looks Like Abraham Lincoln sort of way. It was just silly. While it was worth it to me, a fan of Eddie Izzard, to see him in this film, I can't see this scene being worth watching for the average person.
Anyway.
I've loved the Beatles for years and years-- grew up listening to them, actually, as my parents also love the Beatles-- so obviously I was predisposed to enjoy the music. I think the songs were relatively well-chosen, although I would've loved to see Here Comes the Sun, but that's just because I think that's a brilliant song. I had been hoping for a few more cool fucked-up Nam scenes, but... well, this blog has enough Nam already I guess. Overall, I think this movie would've been better if it had just been one long conceptual Beatles music video with all of the in-between scenes deleted, but it's still worth sitting through the dialogue to see some of the beautiful musical sequences.
First off: the dialogue. Ouch. Cheesy story I can handle, suspension of disbelief about characters bursting into song I can handle. But that dialogue, man... I'm sorry, but it was really bad. Distractingly bad. Like, I have to look away from the screen and cringe and I'm losing faith in this film with every passing moment bad. Yeah, it's possible that maybe they were going for stiff cheesy dialogue on purpose as if even the spoken words were song lyrics, but if so, it needed to be done better. More purposefully.
But--- this brings me to the musical numbers. The whole point-- conceptually, artistically, whatever-- of this movie. Some of them were merely there, some were roped in a little too artificially (i.e. Jude looking at a pile of strawberries and then bursting into "Strawberry Fields Forever"... hmm) but overall, they were what made this movie great. The very first time I had to stop whatever else I was doing or thinking about and stare in wonder at the screen was the scene of "Let it Be" during the Detroit Riots. It was actually rather heartwrenching, which is an impressive feat for a movie (particularly a musical) to accomplish. The trippy "I am the Walrus" number was also pretty damn sweet and gorgeously done, and the final "All you Need is Love" song was also really quite lovely.
A word about Eddie Izzard. Now, I *love* Eddie Izzard, maybe a little more than is even justified. And I love the fact that he was in this movie. But.... the Mr. Kite scene was really unnecessary. And not unnecessary in a Here Do You Want a Chocolate Bar, Sure Why Not sort of way. Unnecessary in a Here Do You Want This Pinecone I Found Outside It Kind of Looks Like Abraham Lincoln sort of way. It was just silly. While it was worth it to me, a fan of Eddie Izzard, to see him in this film, I can't see this scene being worth watching for the average person.
Anyway.
I've loved the Beatles for years and years-- grew up listening to them, actually, as my parents also love the Beatles-- so obviously I was predisposed to enjoy the music. I think the songs were relatively well-chosen, although I would've loved to see Here Comes the Sun, but that's just because I think that's a brilliant song. I had been hoping for a few more cool fucked-up Nam scenes, but... well, this blog has enough Nam already I guess. Overall, I think this movie would've been better if it had just been one long conceptual Beatles music video with all of the in-between scenes deleted, but it's still worth sitting through the dialogue to see some of the beautiful musical sequences.
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