From the Blog Archive: Why 'Aliens' is Possibly the Greatest Film of the 1980's

Just before I started this blog, almost 3 years ago, I wrote a couple of film-related posts on my other, infrequently-updated blog.  This next article was the first of my semi-frequent 'Most Relentlessly Awesome Movies' series, and as it's officially 'Alien Day' - marking the 30th Anniversary of the release of 'Aliens', I thought it a good excuse to re-post it...

THE MOST RELENTLESSLY AWESOME FILMS, EVER - PART ONE

'ALIENS' (1986)

'This Time, It's War...'

I'm going to come right out and make a very bold statement:  I seriously believe there is a case to be made that this film is THE Greatest Movie of the 1980's.  I'll state why below, but I think I should acknowledge that as I write the 1980's are a period very much on everyone's minds at the moment following the death of one of the key figures of that era, Margaret Thatcher.  Her politics define that era (for good and bad), and in many ways there are echoes of this in 'Aliens': privatisation, corporate greed over-looking communities, military interventions...  This movie is very much of its time - a bold reflection of it - but at the same time it peels back the skin and isn't afraid to comment on the ills beneath.  While it has the same gung-ho attitude of many action films of the era - and of leading politicians - it also subverts and often challenges them.

But this film is not just great because of the sub-text: it is a master-work of character writing, production design, atmosphere, tension and edge-of-your-seat action.  I first saw this movie when I was 10, and it had a profound effect on me.  For a start, it was seriously cool - you had these awesome Colonial Marines running around with their kick-ass tech; these designs were enormously iconic, and it is hard to imagine that so many beloved Sci-fi settings, across so many platforms (movies, video games, collectable miniatures & games) would have existed without the Colonial Marines as their template.

Ripley and some 'Absolute Bad-asses'...

Next, this film really creeped me out.  The scenes when the Marines touched down on the seemingly abandoned colony (remember, this was in the days before the Special Edition, so there was no glimpse in to life on the colony prior to the infestation), with the evidence of the desperate and horrific battle that had taken place there, really fuelled my imagination.  Although you didn't see what happened to the colonists, the few suggestions of their battle for survival made it seem all the more terrifying.  This was a case of how movies can use the power of suggestion to make something all the more frightening (and as 2011's 'The Thing' Prequel proved, sometimes imagining how an horrific event occurred is actually more frightening than seeing it).  And this is before you even get to the Aliens themselves, and their nests!

Finally, despite Sigourney Weaver's misgivings about the amount of gunplay in the movie, Ripley in this movie is one of my all-time favourite action heroes.  At a time when Schwarzenegger, Stallone et al were taking on entire armies armed with usually nothing more than their muscles and a knife, Ripley seemed the greatest of all of them - more determined, more driven, and tougher somehow.  The fact that she went in to the Alien's nest on her own, with none of the Military Training of the Marines, despite her fear of the Xenomorphs, just made her seem all the more heroic.  The fact she was a woman was kind of secondary; some people look at other kick-ass action women in some films as a bit of a gimmick, or debate whether there are enough empowering roles for women in those kinds of films.  Because of Ripley in this film, I've never seen female action heroes in neither way - I've always been able to accept them without a second thought, and that is because Ripley was such a great character in 'Aliens' that the fact she's a woman is not an obstacle to accepting her as an action hero.  In fact, it's arguable her gender brings another level to it, which I'll discuss later.

So aside from the fact that this is a highly regarded movie, widely lauded as one of the best sequels of all time - and a damn classic film in it's own right - what is it that would justify my claim of it being The Greatest Movie of its decade?  I think it's down to it being very much in the vein of prevalent action movie ideals of the era, but at the same time rising above (most) stereotypes and even managing to cast a critical (perhaps even satirical) eye over these and the politics of the period.

To start with, let's look at the Colonial Marines themselves.  These men and women would not have been out of place in pretty much any other '80's action-fest - they'd stand shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Rambo or John Matrix, and more than hold their own.  'Grunts' though they were, the script and acting allowed each to have their own distinct character and personality, regardless of screen time.  And, man, they had quality scripting - these soldiers remain amongst the most endlessly quotable characters until this very day.  I've often thought that as well as 'Talk Like a Pirate' Day there should be 'Talk Like a Colonial Marine' Day!  It's this level of writing and characterisation which elevates these 'Grunts' from the usual cannon-fodder of these types of films.  Of course, some are more significant characters than others, but each one is an example of how a good script and acting can elevate even the smallest of characters/roles.

At the same time, there is a slight subversion of the gung-ho action hero - after their losses from the first confrontation with the Xenomorphs, the survivors are not the same as before, most notably Hudson who has a (in retrospect, slightly humorous) breakdown.  I think this is a reflection of what was happening in US Cinema at the time and the decade leading up to it, as films began to tentatively explore the Vietnam war, and its effects on those that fought in it.  Although some films in the '80's seemed to be hankering for a re-fight of this war, after a couple of more reflective films such as 'The Deer Hunter' in the '70's, after 'Aliens' the likes of 'Platoon', 'Full Metal Jacket' and 'Born on the Fourth of July' came along. Now, I'm not saying that 'Aliens' influenced or paved the way for these films - and it certainly didn't stop the continuation of macho blockbusters - but it is interesting that cinema audiences were open to more introspective takes on the war after 'Aliens'.

The interesting thing about James Cameron's movies is that he seems to have a dual fascination for the military (check out the toys he gave these Colonial Marines and the Military forces of Avatar), whilst at the same time being fearful and critical of what military leadership means. Despite their cool toys and hi-tech equipment, the Colonial Marines are easily taken down by the Xenomorphs - all whilst their commanding officer Gorman can only issue orders they can't hear or simply ignore.  A military resolution may have seemed like the best solution to this situation (and perhaps total extermination by nuke still is!), but it proved to be fatal.  This idea that military leadership and reliance on military can only lead to needless and ultimately costly confrontation is a recurrent theme of Cameron's, from 'The Terminator', through this, 'The Abyss', and most recently 'Avatar'.

The next subversion of the gung-ho action movies of the time is in Ripley herself; obviously, first of all, because in the era of steroidal he-men, the principal hero is actually a woman.  It's not so much this which makes her remarkable, it is her drive, determination and resilience - despite her obvious fears and vulnerability - in the final act which makes her an action hero who is more believable and relatable than almost every Stallone, Schwarzenegger or Lundgren character of that era.  Whilst some might critique Ripley in this film in terms of the feminine or maternal psyche, at the end of the day she is a grieving parent who has found an opportunity of redemption in the girl Newt.  If you're a parent I think you can relate to this, regardless of your gender.

'Get away from her, you BITCH!!!'

The other way that this movie both reflects, and subverts, one of the prevalent ideas of the time is the portrayal of growing Corporate influence and power of everyone's lives.  Right from the start of the film the privatisation of Space is abundantly apparent; the first lines mention 'The Company', there are corporate logos recurrent on the space station where Ripley convalesces, and all over the Colony on LV 426.  This background presence completely echoes what was happening in reality during that decade; there was an explosion of Privatisation, especially in the UK but in many other countries around the world also, as many industries were sold to be run by Corporations.  This did create opportunities for quite a few people become wealthy - however the downside was job losses in some areas, and a questioning of the ethics of many companies.

So in 'Aliens', the corporate sponsored colonisation and exploration of space provides opportunities for people to make money - it is, after all, a family of explorers, looking to stake a claim on a new discovery that inadvertently set off the events of the film.  However, just as Corporations are criticised for being monolithic, impersonal entities that put profits before people and environment, it is revealed that the 'discovery' was in fact orchestrated BY the Company.  In the decade where 'Greed was Good', this film demonstrates there is likely to be a human cost.  Corporate greed is given a face by Carter Burke, Weyland Yutani's representative, who would happily sacrifice Ripley, Newt and the military crew, to ensure he gets his financial bonus.  At this point the film perhaps becomes heavy handed with this subversion - but it reinforces at an individual level that this sort of financial greed can make people lose sight of the value of other human beings.  Greed is not always good...

There is one other reason why I think you can argue that this film is the greatest of its decade: I've entitled this series of articles 'The Most Relentlessly Awesome Films', and I think the first part of that statement completely fits this film.  It is relentlessly gripping, tense, and above all entertaining, right from the start.  If someone asked me what my favourite scene is in the film I honestly couldn't pick one, as continuously throughout the film there is something in pretty much every scene which is great: whether it is the script, the cast, the cinematography and lighting, the outstanding and iconic production design, the fantastic special effects work (which has by and large stood the test of time), the spot-on score which hits every beat from terror to heroism, there is always something to remark upon.

Briefly, which version do I prefer?  The extended Special Edition is more complete, giving more background to Ripley (making her attachment to Newt more understandable), and we get the iconic Sentry Guns sequence.  However the Theatrical, original version does not suffer for the cutting of these moments - it definitely gives the film more depth though, so as a fan I'd say I prefer the Special Edition.

* * * * * 

Thanks for reading - I've been really busy lately with work, my studies, and a house move; but there'll be more from this blog soon, including the next 'Son of a Geek!' video review.  So please bookmark/follow my blog for more!

The Most Relentlessly Awesome Movies Ever: Jaws

I've been quite busy this month, so this blog has been quieter than usual - but I've found time to look back at an all-time great movie that just happens to celebrate the 40th Anniversary of its first release this month...

THE MOST RELENTLESSLY AWESOME FILMS EVER - PART NINE:

JAWS

After 40 years of being regarded as one of the greatest films ever made, it might seem redundant to further analyse 'Jaws' - there have, after all, been entire books written about the film.  But I can still bring a personal perspective to why it remains so greatly loved, and continues to terrorise and captivate each new generation.  If you were growing up in the late 1970's or '80's, there is little doubt that you were at some point terrified by this film: John William's menacing and hysteria-inducing score, the gory shocks of severed hands or chewed off heads, and the horrific sight of thrashing limbs as the sea turns red - these are etched on to the psyche of an entire generation.  But we survived this trauma, partly because the film ends on a cathartic and brighter note than the death and terror that precedes it; and partly because we all took it and put it in the games we played - who else would play 'Jaws' in the school playground, chasing their friends, snapping their arms like a fanged mouth, while singing the 'duh-duh, duh-duh' signature over and over?  I can't have been the only one!

But this is a film that doesn't just frighten kids, there is real substance to the plot and characters that make it one that so many people happily revisit time after time, year on year.  Of course, it is directed with real panache by Spielberg - no one would know what a dolly zoom is if it wasn't for that shot - but it helps that the script, and the actors playing them, give the characters a depth that really makes this film more than the simple 'shark hunt' story it could otherwise have been.  It's little touches that blockbusters nowadays often overlook that help achieve this; for example, I love the scene where Chief Brody and his wife make fun of the New England accents of the community they've moved to ("I'll put the CAAHRR in the GAH-RAAHGE!") - it's a scene that does nothing to advance the plot, but is so intrinsic to the characters - it's easy see how many films today would have cut it out altogether.

One of the most famous shots in film history...

When I think about Jaws, something that springs to mind is how it is one of those few films that, if you come across it channel hopping, inevitably you end up watching it regardless how far in it is.  I don't just think that's because it has been seen so many times that it's etched on our minds (though it might be); to me it's because it almost feels like two films in one.  The first half, where the threat of the shark is slowly being realised as it begins to terrorise the swimmers around Amity Island, feels like a '50's monster b-movie, or a horror movie.  You've got some of the elements - the police chief and 'scientist' (okay, biologist) that realise the threat but whose warnings fall on deaf ears amongst those in authority, until (of course) it's too late.  You've got a relentless, uncatchable, dangerous and barely seen monster, from whom no one is safe - even dogs or children.  (As a side note, am I the only one who gets frustrated during the scene where Mrs Kintner, grieving at the death of her son at the shark, slaps Brody round the face?  I always want to scream at the screen "go slap the stupid Mayor, it's his fault the beaches weren't closed!"  Or, maybe that's just me?  Ok then.)  But then the film shifts in the final section, almost half the film, as Quint takes Brody and Hooper out to hunt the beast: okay, the strands of the shark hunt are already set up, but the feel becomes that of an adventure, a wild hunt, a cat-and-mouse thriller at sea.

All together now: "you're gonna need..."

During this second half there are moments where the film deliberately slows down, further differentiating itself from what has preceded it; the films ups the tension to almost unbearable levels for a scene where no one - not even Brody's children - are safe, then it almost goes off at a tangent, with the focus seemingly shifting to Quint.  Well, it might just be that Robert Shaw's performance is so iconic, so mesmerising, that it seems like the film becomes about him and his quest to get the shark.  Again, it's incredible to think that any film, especially one that is apparently a genre movie, would take a shift at the final act, when most films are gearing up to their climax.  That's not to say that at this point the film doesn't have tension, or build to a satisfying and tense finale - which of course it does - but there are few films that would still find space for great moments of character while gearing towards a final showdown.  We should all be thankful that 'Jaws' does this, as we get one of the greatest single scenes ever committed to celluloid: an evening of drinks leads to some unlikely male bonding between three unimaginably disparate characters, seguing in to an unforgettable monologue from Shaw: his revelation about the USS Indianapolis.  It is a moment that, aside from the phenomenal acting performance that Shaw delivers, is a moment that - in the midst of an apparently light-hearted scene - manages to make the film even more disquieting, and brings a level of genuine and actual horror to it.  For whilst the shark attacks of the first part of the film, terrifying as they are, are still fiction, this monologue is based in fact.  And it carries deeper terror, as it draws attention to the fate of these lost and seemingly abandoned sailors, facing the prospect of drowning or being eaten alive; furthermore, during a time of war, when capture by the Japanese military must have been a terrifying prospect.  And the final piece on top of all that, the mission was to deliver the first Nuclear bomb used during war - a subtle reminder that mankind is capable of acts far more horrific than those driven by the survival instincts of a natural predator.

"Farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies..."

'Jaws' was a landmark release at the time, it etched itself on the minds of the generation that were children when it was first released - but it remains an enduring classic.  And I think it's worth considering how remarkable that is, because on paper it doesn't add up to a film that has followed some 'template' or 'recipe' to be successful: hallmarks of B-movies, monster movies, horror movies; terror, gore and menace; a final act that veers in to a nautical adventure, or a study of man versus nature.  But Spielberg's seminal direction - his technical mastery, ability to make a scene just simply work, and his lightness of touch with characters and his actors - combines with great acting performances and an effective script to give us an iconic masterpiece of cinema. In this piece I've barely scratched the surface of its complexity, of what makes it so great; yet the fact it its rediscovered afresh and equally loved by each new generation is testimony to what a fantastic piece of cinema it is.  I just need to persuade my son to sit and watch the whole film now - so he can be terrified, thrilled and enthralled, just like his mum and dad were by 'Jaws' at his age..!

The Most Relentlessly Awesome Films Ever: Avengers Assemble

Today is only a mere 3 weeks from the UK première of the film I am looking forward to  - and geeking out over hard - more than any other this year: 'Avengers Age of Ultron'.  While we chomp at the bit to see the sequel, I thought it a good excuse to look back at what made the first film so great...

THE MOST RELENTLESSLY AWESOME FILMS EVER - PART EIGHT:

AVENGERS ASSEMBLE (2012)

'Superhero'.

'Team'.

On their own, each of those words can evoke exciting story possibilities and images - but put together the potential is even greater and exciting.  If you're thinking of cinematic potential then this is even more so - but at the same time the risks that go with those are also multiplied.  For every great Superhero movie, there are as many (if not more) that have disappointed.  And when these films have tried to introduce more characters, to expand a 'franchise', well the results haven't been successful.  Then you have the added unknown of getting several characters, established in their own films (and film franchises) - how do you bring them together and make it feel like they're all equal?  And what do you present them with that's a threat big enough to justify their coming together?  Going in to Marvel's 'The Avengers' (or 'Avengers Assemble' as we have to call it here in the UK), the dangers that it wouldn't work always seemed like they would outweigh the potential for excitement and fun.

But when the film hit back in 2012, smashing Box Office records like a green rage monster, any of these risks, these doubts that it wouldn't work, were quickly forgotten.  Yes, it's not a perfect film; and yes it does teeter occasionally on its tightrope walk - threatening to slip in to cheesiness or campness on occasion; but it holds it together enough to provide an exhilarating finale that is exciting, joyous, entertaining and crowd-pleasing.  So much so, in fact, that I would argue there is a strong case to make that this is the greatest Comic Book Superhero movie of them all.  Even on those occasions it almost feels like it's going to fall apart, Joss Whedon's fantastic and endlessly quotable script, and the charismatic cast that simply own their roles, keep the film on track.

The Avengers: before they fight together, they usually fight.  Each other...

Apparently Whedon really had to wrestle the script to completion, stating that the biggest challenge was to justify them becoming a team in the first place.  You can imagine as well that it was probably tough to convey each character's voice too.  And offer a satisfying story, and one where the potential of portraying these Superheroes working together on screen is fulfilled.  So the first thing you have to acknowledge is how great Whedon's script is; full of so many witty and endlessly quotable lines, for each and every character.  And what's more, they're so right for each one - we already knew that RDJ could deliver a snarky line with zest and style, or that Thor could be the focus of humorous fish out of water moments - but it's not just these two who get their laughs, and never at the expense of making fun of the characters or trying to make them zany or (even worse) campy.  Take Black Widow's introductory scene - absolutely pitch perfect in showing her approach to espionage, we get a great laugh out of her stating "this idiot is giving me everything" (while she is bound to a chair, dangling over a ledge!), and then get to see her open a can of whup-ass on her apparent captors.  This scene further demonstrates that Whedon not only knew how to bring out the fun in having these characters appear on screen, but he also gets them, and portrays them faithfully to the lore and history of their comic appearances.  It's just small things that illustrate this, like the way Thor wipes the blood from his mouth with a wry grin when he's fighting Hulk - you just know he's relishing in having found a worthy opponent to fight.

Finding a consistent tone for this film could have been the major Achilles heel - how do you match the tech-savvy, rock-star persona of Tony Stark with the earnest and straight-forward heroism of Captain America?  How does Thor's realm of 'magic' and 'gods' remain believable alongside the super science behind Iron Man and Hulk?  Yes, there are moments when this threatens to unravel - Cap's sudden appearance, and Freedom-espousing monologue, just as Loki is about to zap some museum patrons in Germany does come perilously close to being a bit, well, cheesy.  Fortunately Whedon knows to keep things moving briskly along, and we get a brawl between Cap and Loki (I love how they both react during it, indicating they both realise that they've never fought someone like their opponent before), followed by a suitably attention-grabbing arrival of Iron Man, and the film keeps the tone correctly balanced.

Loki is a classic villain - dastardly, heartless, yet at once charming and strangely likeable...

As well as Whedon's script and story pacing, the success of the film owes a tremendous deal to its cast, who you can sense are growing in confidence in their roles.  Of course, even before this film RDJ absolutely kills it as Stark (like Jackman and Wolverine, Christopher Reeves and Supes, it is unlikely that anyone will ever be able to embody the role as definitively), but if the cast had any reservations or uncertainty about these characters coming together (which is understandable) by the end of the film they are all invested and, you can sense, having fun.  As great as the ensemble is you can still pick out individuals for praise - and firstly, it's worth pointing out that Tom Hiddleston, as fan-favourite Loki, shows absolute gleeful commitment to his character right from the start.  Thinking about the great moments his character gets, both in terms of out and out villainy and wicked humour, it is clear he knew what a great role he had in this film (in fact an email came to light in which he thanked Whedon for the role he had written for his character, so this is truly the case).  And what a great villain Loki makes for this film - you need a threat that justifies 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes' coming together, and he delights in tormenting and manipulating them, even when he allows himself to be their captive.

His is not the only star-making turn in this film - that a film so strongly based on an ensemble cast can boast two of these performances is remarkable.  Going in to this film Hulk had a pretty chequered cinematic past, and the casting of respected actor (but not box-office draw) Mark Ruffalo, instead of inviting previous actor Edward Norton back, might have indicated that Marvel Studios and Whedon may have continued the trend of being uncertain how to handle this character on film once again.  Well, that emphatically turned out to not be the case: Ruffalo's performance, under-pinned by many subtle touches that entirely fit the character (I love the remorseful glance he throws at Black Widow as he is about to 'Hulk out' on the Helicarrier), and Whedon's script giving him (again) some great lines and fantastic, crowd-pleasing moments, proved it IS possible to get the character right on screen.  And it also brought Ruffalo to mainstream star status.  It was a turn that left audiences and comic fans wanting more - hopefully Marvel will one day give Hulk another solo movie, which, pleasingly, Ruffalo is open to.

 Everyone was unprepared for how memorable Ruffalo would be as Bruce Banner in this film

The film's greatest success - above its cracking script, great performances, and finding a consistent tone for a number of different characters - is arguably how it fulfils the long-held wishes and dreams of comic fans and movie audiences in ways that no one would have imagined possible until recently.  Comic book and Superhero movies have had such a chequered history that when Marvel Studios teased they would be building to this through Nick Fury's cameo at the end of 'Iron Man', that excitement would always be tempered by a realistic nervousness, based on the number of comic films that have disappointed.  Although Whedon may have struggled to write a story that gave sufficient grounds to bring these characters together as a team, he clearly knew what an exciting and momentous event seeing them finally brought together onscreen would be.  So we get a final act that must rank as one of the best action-sequences of the decade, and certainly in the Superhero genre.  After a two-act build up that teases, with semi-team ups between Iron Man and Captain America, as well as spats between Thor and Iron Man then Hulk (addressing those endless fan debates and desire to see what happens when these powerful heroes clash!), a superbly crafted shot shows our heroes back to back, facing a threat that truly justifies the intervention of not just one, but a team of Heroes.  When the camera pans round them for that iconic shot, Whedon is milking the moment for all it's worth - and rightly so, as it is a moment of wish fulfilment for countless comic book fans after years of hoping and dreaming, and the culmination of Marvel Studio's planning and universe building.

For comic book fans and geeks, this was the film's key money shot - in both senses of the term...

Whedon's skilled handling of the characters and balancing their screen-time continues right the way through this sequence - each hero gets a moment of awesomeness in their own right that is completely befitting their character.  We see Cap being the selfless leader, Thor bringing the thunder (and lightning), Iron Man using his tech and smarts to bring down his foes (whilst delivering a snappy one-liner), we see why Black Widow and Hawkeye are the best at what they do (as well as some amusing insights in to their working relationship); and of course, we get to see Hulk smash.  I don't think there are many films that boast a moment as uproariously crowd-pleasing as his 'fight' with Loki!  This is topped off with possibly my favourite shot of the entire film - in a single shot the camera follows the battle, showing the Heroes fighting individually and then back to back against the invading Chitauri army, combining their powers and abilities to take down their foe (underpinned by Alan Silvestri's rousing theme music).  For me, it completely captures those double-page pieces of artwork from comic books (known as spread pages)that depict tremendous and epic scenes showing Superheroes battling against their foes (or each other) - with incredible detail to pore over, as well as capturing the essence of what makes the characters so cool and awesome.  This scene, and the rest of the climactic battle, quite simply never get old, no matter how many times I watch it.

This scene illustrates why I would argue that 'Avengers Assemble' is the greatest Superhero comic book movie of all time; with moments like that it absolutely captures why so many people have ever picked up and read a comic book, pored over the art, and avidly followed the adventures of their favourite characters.  This film captures the sheer joy and awe that great comic book stories and characters have evoked in readers at some point in their lives; whilst there are many comics that prove how challenging, intelligent, insightful and artistically profound the medium can be, the first reason anyone picks up a comic is to be entertained and wowed by great art, stories and characters.  It is a joyous form of escapism.  Does this mean that 'Avengers Assemble' is a better comic book/Superhero film than the highly lauded 'The Dark Knight'?  Again, I would argue 'yes'.  Whilst that film is a masterpiece, successfully capturing how comics have (in the right hands) been capable of making insightful socio-political observations, as well as treating the psychology of superheroes very seriously, as I have said it is 'Avengers Assemble' that conveys the sheer joy of comic books, the awesomeness of the characters and stories, more effectively than any other film in the genre.

For comic book geeks and Superhero movie fans, if you'll pardon the metaphor, this film is joy on an almost orgasmic level ('geek-gasmic', if you will!); it is like the best sex you've ever had with your most perfect partner!  Sure, it starts out tentatively and a little uncertain in some places, with an occasional, awkward fumble - but then it becomes as exhilarating and joyful as you hope it would be, building to a satisfying conclusion that leaves you with a contented feeling afterwards.  Whedon apparently stated he wanted to make a film that would give audiences the same experience of some of his favourite blockbusters when he was growing up; he more than achieved this - he gave us a defining genre classic, a box-office milestone, and an iconic moment in pop-culture.  It is an uplifting, entertaining joy of a film, and one I will never tire of watching.

...the film should also be given due credit for bringing Schawarma to everyone's attention, of course.

The Most Relentlessly Awesome Films Ever: Rear Window

This latest article of my 'Most Relentlessly Awesome Movies...' series is a tad delayed - originally I intended to write and post it during December, but never found the time; and then the same happened again during February.  But here it is, which means that there'll be an article in this series two months in a row - I can sense your excitement from here..!  So without further ado...

THE MOST RELENTLESSLY AWESOME FILMS EVER - PART SEVEN:

REAR WINDOW (1954)

I am pretty sure that 'Rear Window' is the first Alfred Hitchcock movie I ever watched and consciously took on board that it is one of several great films, in a tremendous body of work, that bears the classic hallmarks of what made him known as 'The Master of Suspense'.  I first saw it about 17 years ago, as part of a season of films screened on TV in tribute to James Stewart who had passed that year.  I'm sure I had seen 'Psycho' or  'The Birds' (or, at least, parts of those films), which are classic movies in their own rights, but when I saw 'Rear Window' I finally 'got' what made a Hitchcock film so distinctive, and - as with much of his work - such great pieces of cinema.  And the fact this film makes full use of a limited setting and almost austere premise impresses me as much now as it did upon that first viewing.  It is marked with a black, knowing sense of humour about death and sex, features a leading turn from a classic blonde actress, and has a murder mystery at its centre - if you wanted to sum up the consistent elements of Hitchcock's films, then there are all present in this.  It even manages to make some subversive swipes at human nature, and also at the medium of cinema itself.

The artistry and attention to detail that went in to realising the back-apartment lot over looked by photographer J.B. 'Jeff' Jeffries (Stewart) is nothing short of impressive.  Even in today's era of CGI effects work, the execution of every aspect of the set is pretty astounding: the shared garden, each apartment window, even the side alley looking in across a busy street on to a café.  Aiding the illusion are a myriad of extras, cars driving past, that make the whole thing feel alive - not just some construct on a Studio lot somewhere.  As the film opens, and the camera pans around taking in the view of the other apartments from Jeffries' window, you're immediately taken in to accepting the setting as alive because of the way the other residents are introduced.  Though we never learn their names, straight away we learn a lot about these individuals: the songwriter, 'Miss Torso' the dancer, the sculptress, 'Miss Lonely Hearts'; and despite them having little relation to the central plot, we become as invested in their lives as Jeffries does, watching them while he convalesces.

Adventuring Photographer JB Jeffries (Stewart) thinks that Lisa (Kelly) is too good and sophisticated for him - but she's as tenacious, brave and adventurous as he is...

The film does such tremendous work in fully realising the setting and establishing Jeffries and his some-time girlfriend Lisa Fremont (Grace Kelly), that when the apparent murder that is the main thrust of the plot only occurs a third of the way through the film you are so involved it doesn't feel to have dragged.  Just in this opening half hour there is so much of what keeps people analysing and appreciating Hitchcock's films; I love how the camera allows the viewer to become, like Jeffries, a voyeur on his neighbour's lives - and when the camera cuts back to Jeffries' reactions to them, there is a knowing humour.  Like when he pans his camera's lens over the apartment where newly-weds have moved in - and have had the curtains drawn since; his reaction is a mixture of disappointment and sheepish guilt - which must be shared by the audience, who like him probably were curious as to what the couple were getting up to!  It draws a laugh which is a mixture of humour and a little guilt!

And then we have the introduction of Grace Kelly (how aptly named she was...) as Lisa, as she stirs Jeffries from a half-slumber with a dreamy, soft-focus kiss.  So much has been written about Hitchcock's apparent obsession with Blonde women - but in this film he doesn't merely fetishise them (although this shot, and a later one where she is nuzzling in to Jeffries' neck, are arguably more sensual and erotic than much of 'Fifty Shades of Grey').  We learn that Lisa is smart, capable, and an activist - as she helps Jeffries with his investigations we see she is far more than the immaculately dressed New York fashion socialite that Jeffries has pegged her down as.  Despite his commitment issues, over the course of the film we see that Lisa is in fact an ideal match for him - as tenacious, brave and adventurous as he is.  Looking back at this film, and this character, with a 21st Century feminist-influenced mind-set, there are still elements of her character that betray how women were limited in their roles throughout society at the time: she is still expected to be immaculately and beautifully turned out in fashionable clothes, she still cooks dinner for her man.  But while Jeffries is physically unable to put himself in the location of the crime they're investigating, she is able to go ahead and do so - unlike many women at the time would have been.  Of course, it adds to the tension of that scene later on that she is also vulnerable in some ways, especially as the suspected killer is a physically larger and clearly stronger figure than her.   Whilst other films before and since then would put a female character in such a perilous position and ultimately would have made her another victim, this film distinguishes itself by allowing Lisa to use her wit, cunning and guile to get out of the situation.

Once the film sets out the central mystery, Hitchcock absolutely mines it to its full potential.  As we only see and hear what Jeffries does, we as the audience are only as strong as Jeffries himself in the conviction that he has witnessed one of his neighbours, Lars Thorwold (Raymond Burr), murdering his wife.  We are kept within the confines of Jeffries' apartment, only seeing what he can from his window, and it is easy  to have that conviction swayed as other characters express their doubts.  Solving this mystery requires an unflinching eye observing the entire apartment complex, and by the time Jeffries is absorbed in his surveillance the audience is equally so - thanks to the way in which Hitchcock has made the viewer as engrossed in watching Jeffries' neighbours as he is.  (Ironically, after the film has so plausibly realised a living, breathing apartment yard, the white dye applied to Burr's hair to age him is the only thing to break the spell it has cast - if only slightly!)

It all builds to two scenes of almost unbearable tension - firstly, as Lisa breaks in to Thorwald's apartment to retrieve his dead wife's wedding ring; and then in a final confrontation between Thorwald and Jeffries in his darkened apartment.  Both scenes work because the lead actor is physically limited to the one room, and by tying the camera to that location we feel his helplessness as he first watches Thorwald confront Lisa in his apartment, then secondly as Thorwald tries to eliminate him as the only witness to his crime.  There is a simplicity to these scenes that makes it possible to see how they might have been more mundane or trivial if executed differently - but again, these show the prowess of Hitchcock as the 'Master of Suspense'; these set pieces are realised to the full potential in terms of tension and, well, suspense.

Jeffries is a voyeur - but then again, so is the audience - we've been watching everything he has..!

The Director's humour is clear throughout, but none moreso when, at the end, we realise like Jeffries' nurse Stella (Thelma Ritter), we have been involved in quite an unpleasant situation; and even more than that, our human nature inevitably makes this the case.  There is something instinctual in human behaviour to observe other people, to the point where we are all to some degree voyeurs.  There are moments where Hitchcock allows the viewer to look back at Jeffries and to tut judgementally, before wryly reminding us that we have been watching his neighbours as intently as he has, so who are we to judge!  The medium of film is part of this behaviour - we all have lurid fascinations, to varying degrees, to even the most darkest elements of human activities; even with sex and murder.  These are part of the appeal of cinema - we can watch these played out in the safety of other (fictional) people's lives, but the voyeuristic drive is the same.  When Hitchcock makes the viewer laugh at Stella's reaction after her assertion that 'she wants no part of it', he is also inviting us to laugh at that element of ourselves, too.

There are many outstanding classics from Hitchcock's body of work that would provide any movie fan with an entry point from which to begin to appreciate his films.  'Rear Window' did that for me, and years after that first viewing I remain as impressed as I was then; by its technical achievement in realising an entire apartment lot and making it feel vibrant and truly alive, and in getting the full potential from what on the surface is a simple premise.  Critics and film buffs would debate which of his films is his greatest work, or which most exemplifies what marked him as a great director - 'Vertigo', or 'North by North West', or 'Psycho'.  But 'Rear Window' was, for me, the perfect introduction to Hitchcock, enabling me to appreciate that he was a 'Master' not just of suspense, but of cinema in general; and for that I will always hold this film with a special regard.

The Most Relentlessly Awesome Films Ever: Ghostbusters

I had hoped to write another of these articles back in August, but unfortunately I was just too busy; but this series is BACK - and the choice is a timely one given a) it certainly fits the time of year with Halloween impending; b) the sad passing of one of the lead actors earlier this year; c) it's getting a well deserved re-release to mark its 30th anniversary in the UK this month; and d) the recent announcements about a reboot/sequel.  All I'll say on that regard is that Paul Feig has a lot to live up to with his film...

THE MOST RELENTLESSLY AWESOME FILMS EVER - PART SIX:

GHOSTBUSTERS (1984)

I don't think my childhood interest in ghosts and the paranormal started with 'Ghostbusters', but it certainly helped fuel it.  Prior to the release of this film, the only other movie that had influenced my career aspirations was when I saw 'Star Wars' at the age of 5, and decided I wanted to become an X-Wing Pilot(!); well, after seeing Ghostbusters I wanted to be a scientist - a 'parapsychologist', at that.  This continued for years afterwards, helped no doubt by cartoon shows and a sequel - but for a while I wanted to set up 'traps' around our house and see if it was haunted.  So straight away I have to acknowledge that this is a film that had a significant impact on my childhood.

It wasn't until I was in my 20's that I truly appreciated what a sophisticated film Ghostbusters truly is.  Well, if you'll excuse the fact that my realisation stems from a joke referencing male bodily fluids!  But it truly demonstrates what a tremendous piece of work this film is, that it could beguile kids with its world building, characters and special effects, and be appreciated by adults for knowing humour and at least one truly iconic comedic acting performance.

"...like the floor of a Taxi cab..."  Eeewwwwww!!!

My deeper appreciation at the many levels upon which Ghostbusters works actually followed a viewing of 'Taxi Driver' when I was 21; there's a scene where Robert DeNiro's iconic anti-hero Travis Bickle describes cleaning his taxi after a night shift in detail that, well, doesn't leave much to the imagination.  A few years later I got hold of a copy of Ghostbusters on DVD, and I can remember watching the scene where, having defeated the attempts of Gozer the Gozerian to open the gates to Her alternate dimension, the Ghostbusters are covered in the residue of the exploded Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.  Egon's comment that he "feels like the floor of a taxi cab" immediately brought to mind the aforementioned scene from Taxi Driver, and suddenly I had a whole new understanding of that joke..!

It might seem like a crude place from which to base a new-found appreciation of a film, but I'd been a fan of it since I was 7, and my love for Ghostbusters had not diminished since then.  It was one of those films that is the archetypal '80's event movie - a blockbuster smash that was accompanied by a hit record, and made an indelible impact upon popular culture (c.f. Back to the Future, Top Gun, etc etc etc).  If you were a child during that period you were no doubt exposed to the combined marketing that went along with these films, like books, t-shirts, collectibles given away free in breakfast cereals - at that age, thanks to these, before I'd even seen the film I was sold on the concept of Ghostbusters.

But merchandising does not a classic film make - the elements need to be up on the screen, and Ghostbusters still stands out in this remark because of three things I mentioned above.  Firstly, it establishes a setting which is at once simple, yet with enough depth to ensure that it really draws the viewer in.  Co-screenwriter Dan Ackroyd is well known for his fascination with the supernatural, and this shines through in all sorts of ways.  There's the way the team investigate the paranormal, all the various unexplainable 'events' the characters refer to (some, admittedly, are there for comedic effect more than anything - 'mass sponge vibration', anyone?), references to 'Tobin's Spirit Guide', and the idea that the occult and paranormal are even in the history, design and architecture of the city.  Then, there's the science and tech behind the ghost-busting itself - it's handled in such a way that makes it simple enough to grasp, plausible enough to believe in, but - most importantly - it works in a way that is really, really cool.  Proton Packs, Ghost Traps, the Containment Chamber make complete sense in the world the film establishes, but are also iconic designs that capture the imagination - as a child I was probably one of many who yearned for a set of overalls and a toy Proton Pack to emulate my Ghostbuster heroes!

I mean seriously, how cool are the Proton Packs?

And that's a paradox of this film, because as you get older you realise that, really, the Ghostbusters aren't your archetypal heroes - in fact, in a lot of ways, they're the opposite.  You have Ackroyd's Ray Stantz, an enthusiastic man-child; the late, great Harold Ramis as Egon Spengler, a man so entrenched in science he's out of his depth with normal interactions with other human beings; Bill Murray as Peter Venkman, whose wise-cracking is a cover for the fact he has no interest in science or proper scientific ethics whatsoever, and has pretty much based his career on coasting on the work and achievements of Stantz & Spengler.  Finally, you have Ernie Hudson as Winston Zeddemore - whilst the 'token black dude', he's also a grounded, blue-collar voice for the film, motivated not by a desire to protect people from ghosts, but simply for 'a steady pay-check'.

But this brings me to what I think is the second reason this film remains a classic - it is in this characterisation that the depth of Ghostbusters becomes apparent.  It is the fact that each one of them goes against the standard 'heroic' norms that makes them such a unique and memorable team; they fit together almost like parts of a body - Ray is the team's heart, Egon it's head, Zeddemore the common sense, whilst Venkman is undoubtedly the mouth.  And although this makes the film something of an ensemble piece, each character is given some great lines and moments, making them unforgettable.  That even goes to supporting characters such as Annie Potts as Janine Melnitz, Rick Moranis' scene-stealing Louis Tully, and William Atherton's sneering Walter Peck - each make their mark on this film in often funny but indelible ways.  And not forgetting Dana Barrett, played by the legend that is Sigourney Weaver; what could have been a rote 'damsel in distress' role avoids this pitfall by making her intelligent, strong, and independent.  It is a mark of how great the film's script and direction are that, despite how high the gag-rate is, and how quickly the film establishes its world and progresses the plot, it never loses any of the performances or characterisation in the midst of these; the audience is always invested because of the characters and the performances.

"...it sounds like you have two people in there already..."

Which brings me to the third reason I think this film is considered such a classic - while each character gets at least one classic, quotable line or great moment, there is no doubt that one performance stands out above all the other.  Bill Murray's name isn't the top one above the poster, but this film is so closely associated with him because of what an iconic character he makes out of Peter Venkman.  He gets the film's best lines, delivered in that low-key, almost dead pan, slightly sarcastic way that is his trademark. Despite his flaws - we're first introduced to him rigging a test so he can ask an attractive student on a date - his sardonic humour is irresistible; even Dana Barrett eventually falls for his charms (in a fashion).  I think that, as iconic as Bill Murray is in this film, you have to acknowledge Ackroyd for not only writing  another actor's part as the movies' effective lead, but also giving to him the films best lines.  And let's face it, if you're going to quote Ghostbusters, you're going to be quoting a Venkman line:

"Okay, so?  She's a dog."
"It's true, your honour; this man has no dick."
"...aaaaand... the flowers are still standing!"

"No one steps on the church in my town!"

"...dogs and cats living together, pandemonium!"
"Back off, man.  I'm a scientist."
"We came, we saw, we kicked it's ASS!"

"...it slimed me..!"

Although Ghostbusters is a film of its era, its status as a timeless classic is assured because everyone involved brought their A game to it - the script, the direction, each actor, the special effects, the score; if you want to show someone what an entertaining and funny blockbuster movie looks like, then there are few movies that can rival Ghostbusters as a near-perfect example of this.  It retains a special place in the hearts of the 1980's generation that grew up with it, but it is widely esteemed by all because of its humour, characterisation, and a career-defining performance.  I'm looking forward to revisiting it on the big screen later this month - and not least of all because I'm taking my son to see it for the first time.  He's the age I was when I first saw it, so I'm looking forward to seeing what he makes of it...

I might just have to warn my son about this particular scene though, seeing as it did scar my own childhood just a little when I was his age..!

The Most Relentlessly Awesome Films Ever: Fargo

I‘ve been really busy lately, so it‘s taken me longer to get this post written up than I‘d hoped; but I still intend to stick to writing one of these ‘Awesome Films‘ pieces every two months - I just made it with this piece to keep to this target!  Without further ado...

THE MOST RELENTLESSLY AWESOME FILMS EVER - PART FIVE:

FARGO

Some films are so great you have to watch them as many times as you can; whereas some films that are great can make such an impression on you that even if you only see them once in decades, they're still etched on your memory.  For me, 'Fargo' is one of those films.  I saw it upon its first release in the UK in 1996, and immediately realised what a classic it is.  Although I didn't have the opportunity to watch it again until only recently, so much of that film had stuck in my mind, things that mark out what makes the film truly great: the superb performances form the cast; the brilliant script, at once humourous while shot through with noirish tendencies; and the excellent direction and cinematography.  This especially captures the bleak wintry snow-scapes of the setting, the unglamorous yet often warm and homely places the characters live and pass through, not to mention framing some shocking moments of violent.


The Coen Brothers have a pretty unique sense of humour, and in Fargo it is on display to the fore.  There is not the comedy of one-liners and pratfalls, or awkward and ridiculous situations; they find humour in the way someone's regional dialect and accent affects their speech patterns - or in the slight flaws in their character which might give way to slightly delusional behaviour.  What I find interesting in watching Fargo is how you can almost sense them in each scene smiling as they delight in hearing the characters talking with their broad North Dakotan (Dakotoan???) accent; every 'Yah!',  every 'Shoot!'  Conversations between characters are, for the most part, filmed with the camera being close enough you feel that you're part of the conversation.  This is an interesting counterpoint to the way some of the acts carried out by certain characters - especially the more violent acts - were filmed: at a distance in most cases.  It's like the Coens aren't as interested in the actions of the characters as they are in the characters themselves.  Just as much time is given over to apparently mundane conversations as it is to key, plot/character developing ones.  Even an important piece of diaologue, which provides a turning point for the kidnapping investigation which is central to the plot, is filmed as though the Coens are taking amusement in the way the man speaks it, than the impact it has on the plot.  Having said that, it is a classic moment, and one that stayed in my mind years after watching the film originally.

In most repsects, Fargo is a typical Noir: a luckless man hires two thugs to kidnap his wife, to get a ransom from her wealthy dad.  It goes to the appropriately dark places - there are a few murders on the way - but there is so much more that makes this a thriller that transcends genres.  For a start, the icy and sometimes bleak landscapes of North Dakota are not usually associated with violent crime and kidnapping - at least, not to the eyes of most film makers.  Secondly, the portrayal of central characters could feel at home in any drama; you have William H Macy‘s Jerry Lundegaard, the least successful salesmen at his father-in-law‘s business, with a wife who matter-of-factly points this out to him frequently, and a teenage son who doesn‘t even listen to him.  Macy‘s performance is excellent, it really put him on the map as a great character actor, he fully conveys the desperation underneath Lundegaard‘s meek but polite exterior.  Especially once the kidnap plan he instigated starts to unravel.  Then you have Frances McDormand‘s deservedly Oscar-winning turn as Sheriff Marge Gunderson.  The Coen‘s spend time setting up her marriage to Norm ‘Son of a‘ Gunderson, before she heads out to investigate three murders the kidnappers have committed.  She is heavily pregnant, but doesn‘t let it stop her doing her job.  She is the moral centre of the film, never perturbed by the increasingly gruesome scenes she has to investigate, but always driven to solve the crimes and bring those responsible to justice.  She retains a fairly simple, decent outlook on life throughout, she even seems apologetic to the kidnapper she shot in the leg whilst he was trying to escape - before expressing her disbelief that anyone would do what they did ‘jsut for a bit of money‘.  Her portrayal of Marge could have been centred on her simply being the determined and perceptive sheriff - but we also get a rounded portrayal of the woman she is too, someone who still seems to believe in the basic decency of people.  There is a scene which almost seems superfluous to the plot - while following up a lead she meets up with an old school friend whose advances she deters in a way at once both naive and definite; it might not relate to the kidnapping part of the narrative, but it perfecty serves the character, and reveals her humanity.

Amidst these great performances, every incidental character is virtually unforgettable due to the Coen‘s knack for capturing the most mundane detail of every exchange due to their clear fascination and amusement with the local dialect.  It is in these that the film finds much of its humour (aside from the unacknowledged absurdity of Lundegaard‘s scheme), but it is with a real warmth and affection for it.  These provide such memorable lines as "goin‘ crazy over by the lake" or "kinda funny lookin‘":

Despite this, Fargo is ultimately a superb thriller, thanks in no small part to the performances of Steve Buscemi (he's the "kinda funny lookin" one!) and Peter Stormare, a virtually mute psychopath.  Buscemi has already established himself as one of the best character actors of the ‘90‘s following turns in films such as 'Reservoir Dogs', but here he is the right mix of sleaziness and ruthlessness - reinforcing how great he can be in any role.  Stormare gets the film's most violent moments (including the infamous wood chipper scene), he is at once as enigmatic as he is frighteningly dangerous.

This film pretty much changed the way everyone views wood chippers, for ever...

‘Fargo‘ is at once a seemingly incongruous mix of elements - wry observational humour, strong characterisation, and a film-noir plot in a distinctly non-noir setting.  But the Coen‘s wry observational style, balanced with a warm sense of humour towards the people they‘re portraying, whilst giving the most heinous events an underlying sense of absurdity, make this film a classic.  Once you‘ve watched it, the mark left on your memory is as striking as blood on snow.