The Wizard of Oz

The Wizard of Oz

1939

Director: Victor Fleming

Starring: Judy Garland, Frank Morgan, Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr, Jack Haley, Margaret Hamilton

The Wizard of Oz is what I call an “exception” movie.  People who don’t like musicals tend to like The Wizard of Oz, despite the fact that it’s a musical.  People who say they don’t like old movies tend to like The Wizard of Oz, despite the fact that it’s 75 years old.  It’s a film that has transcended its origins and become a part of the national film lexicon.  Everyone and their dog knows, and most likely loves, The Wizard of Oz.

The story revolves around Kansas farm girl Dorothy (Garland) who is dissatisfied with her simple life and longs for more.  When a tornado picks up Dorothy’s house with Dorothy inside it and drops her in the magical land of Oz, it seems like Dorothy’s wish has come true, but she is quick to realize that you need to be careful what you wish for.  Dorothy soon wishes that she can return home to her family and friends in Kansas, and enlists the aid of the Scarecrow (Bolger), the Tin Man (Lahr), the Cowardly Lion (Lahr), and the Wizard himself (Morgan) to battle the evil Wicked Witch of the West (Hamilton) so she can find her way back home.  After all, there’s no place like home.

Now here’s where I make a pretty darn big confession: I am not in love with The Wizard of Oz.  And more than that, I never have been.  (Did I just quote Gilbert and Sullivan? Yes I did. Bonus points to those who can tell me which operetta I just referenced.)

Let me explain a bit more: I do not think The Wizard of Oz is a bad or inferior film.  I think it’s great that so many people know and adore this film.  It just never found its way into my heart the same way it apparently has with the rest of the Western Hemisphere.  And before y’all go screaming at me about having ice in my heart for not being enamored of this film, try to give me a chance to explain.  And stop judging, because that’s not very nice.

I have a theory why this isn’t a personal favorite of mine, and it has a lot to do with my disposition as a young Siobhan.  Like pretty much everyone else, this movie was screened quite a bit when I was a child.  I remember watching it over and over and over again. 

A significant fact you must know about me: young Siobhan was a sissy. 

I hated scary books, scary cartoons, and scary movies.  I remember going to a sleepover in elementary school where one of the other girls was hell bent on us watching A Nightmare on Elm Street and I practically had a panic attack from the very THOUGHT of us watching a horror movie.  I watched Star Wars: A New Hope for the first time when I was six, and the trash compactor scene terrified me so deeply, I pointedly refused to watch Star Wars again for another eight years.

And I think the reason I don’t love The Wizard of Oz is because it scared me too much as a kid, but my family kept on watching it anyway and I couldn’t tell anyone.

So, what parts of The Wizard of Oz traumatized me?

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

1. Miss Gulch trying to take Toto away from Dorothy.  I’ve always had an affinity to animals, even as a youngster, and to watch Dorothy as her beloved pet is forcibly removed from her hands broke my heart.  I didn’t like that, no I didn’t like that one bit.

2. Dorothy being locked out of the storm shed.  As I mentioned early on, I’ve seen this film many many times, but I still got anxious every single time the tornado comes.  It’s as if I thought that hoping Dorothy would reach safety would somehow change the plot of the film.  Just one time, just ONE time, I’d love it for Dorothy to not be stuck outside in a natural disaster. 

3. The first arrival of the Wicked Witch of the West.  SHE APPEARS FROM NOWHERE IN A PUFF OF ORANGE SMOKE.  AND THEN SHE IMMEDIATELY TRIES TO KILL DOROTHY.  The Wicked Witch of the West wholeheartedly deserves her spot as one of the greatest villains of all time because she basically scared the crap out of me as a child, and she is so very frightening from the very beginning on.

4. The moving trees that throw apples at Dorothy when she meets the Tin Man.  It’s how they stand stock still and then start mercilessly beating on Dorothy and the Scarecrow.  I mean honestly, this is the stuff of my nightmares.

5. When the Wicked Witch of the West throws fire balls at the Scarecrow.  HE’S MADE OF STRAW.  SHE’S TRYING TO KILL HIM.  Do you know how horrible it is for a six year old to imagine a beloved character burning to death?  Because that’s what went through my head in that scene.

6.  The scary forest when we meet the Cowardly Lion for the first time.  The set designers did their job when they made this incredibly creepy forest, and every single time Dorothy entered this place, I wanted to look away.

7. The poppies.  The goddamned poppies.  The Wicked Witch drugs our gang to try to stop them.  What’s truly frightening in this scene is how she manages to do this from far away in her castle, nowhere near the Emerald City.  She’s incredibly powerful and insidious in her methods. 

8. “Surrender Dorothy.”  Because nothing says frightening like death threats in the sky.

9. Approaching the Wizard of Oz for the first time.  THERE ARE FIREBALLS AND A GIGANTIC DISEMBODIED HEAD WHO YELLS AT EVERYONE.  THIS IS NOT SOMETHING THAT MADE ME HAPPY AS A CHILD.  Y’know the Cowardly Lion in this scene?  Yeah, that was me.

  10. The forest surrounding the Wicked Witch of the West’s castle.  Again, I think I hate the set designers of this film. 

   11.  Flying monkeys.  Fuck no.  Stop giving me nightmares.  “Fly, my pretties!” What you just heard was the sound of child Siobhan running away from this movie. 

12.  The hourglass with red sand ticking away the remaining moments of Dorothy’s life when she’s trapped in the Wicked Witch’s castle.  Having that kind of time limit put on her life made me so anxiety-ridden as a child.

13. When the Lion, the Tin Man, and the Scarecrow go undercover as the guards to break into the Witch’s Castle.  The music (which is heavily pulled from Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain, a genuinely frightening classical music composition), the costumes, the dark lighting and dangerous set, all made this a big pile of “NOPE” to me.

14. The death of the Wicked Witch.  You’d think that by this point in the picture, I’d be overjoyed to watch the villain die.  Nope, not scaredy cat little Siobhan, oh no.  I found her death traumatizing, watching her shrivel and burn away as if she is being corroded by acid. 

Yep.  This movie basically scared the pants off of me as a kid.  And I had to watch it over and over and OVER again.  So you’ll pardon me if it’s not a personal favorite.

Now, having made that rather exhaustive list, you can perhaps understand why this film, frankly, filled me with terror as a young child and why I never quite managed to fall in love with it.  And while the things on that list don’t really scare me anymore, I had to watch this movie SO many times as a child and I didn’t have the nerve to tell my parents that it scared me so heartily that I made myself sit through this frightfulness too many times to ever develop an emotional affinity for the film.  

I told you I was a sissy when I was a kid.  Seriously, you don’t understand just how much everything scared me.

Which isn’t to say there weren’t parts of this film that I enjoyed.  The stand out setpieces are easily the Munchkinland sequence and the arrival the Emerald City.  These two scenes are still my favorite parts of The Wizard of Oz, and I DO love them, very much.  Both are happy parts of the film, which meant I wasn’t cowering behind my hands as a youngster.  Both are towering examples of brilliant uses of Technicolor to achieve a fantasy look.  The colors are rich and luxurious, and both scenes are filled with a multitude of interesting side characters.  I love the costuming and set design of both of these lands.  It’s the rotund, Seussian, illustration-feel of Munchkinland, and the sleek art deco design of the Emerald City, all sophistication and smooth lines, that I really love.  Add on top of that two fantastic songs that leave you humming the tunes for the rest of the day and yeah, for sure, these are my two favorite parts of the film.

The Wizard of Oz will always be considered a great film, and rightfully so.  It’s a visual achievement with a heartwarming message, full of indelible characters and charming songs.  But it’s not my favorite.  It’s basically the first horror film I ever saw, and because I was terrible at communicating my fear as a child, I was forced to watch it time and time and time again.  No, it doesn’t scare me anymore, but it’s really too late to reverse the damage.  I appreciate The Wizard of Oz and I can appreciate its stature in the film world, but it will never be a personal favorite.

Arbitrary Rating: 8/10.  Again, I think this is a legitimately good film, full of so many iconic film moments.  But… JESUS it scared me as a kid.

ETA: I will always remember Margaret Hamilton going on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and getting dressed in the Wicked Witch costume in order to show young children that the Wicked Witch was just a character and not a real monster.  

Additional ETA: and yes, I've seen Return to Oz.  And I rather like it, even as a kid, despite the fact that it's exponentially creepier than this film.  The difference was that everyone around me acknowledged that Return to Oz was a scary film and didn't make me watch it unless I wanted to.  I couldn't vocalize my fear of Wizard, so my parents just kept... putting it on.  

An American in Paris

An American in Paris

1951

Director: Vincent Minnelli

Starring: Gene Kelly, Leslie Caron, Oscar Levant, Nina Foch, Georges Guetary

Right off the bat, I will say that An American in Paris doesn’t hold a candle to Singin’ in the Rain.  Of course it doesn’t.  Nothing does.  And even I, an avowed fan of movie musicals, admit that An American in Paris is not even close to my favorite movie musical, nor do I think it deserved to win the Best Picture Oscar for 1951 over A Place in the Sun or especially over A Streetcar Named Desire.  And, when considering Gene Kelly musicals, it’s an absolute travesty that THIS film was recognized by the Academy when Singin’ in the Rain didn’t even garner a single nomination the following year.  Basically, An American in Paris suffers from being a pretty decent musical that, frankly, got more praise than it deserves.

But Gene Kelly.  Gene Kelly with rolled up sleeves.  Gene Kelly speaking French.  Gene Kelly cures a great number of my ills.  And it’s an MGM musical, with some pretty darn staggering set pieces.  So you know what, I still like An American in Paris.

Jerry Mulligan (Kelly) is a struggling street artist living the poor bohemian life in post-WWII Paris with friend and struggling pianist Adam (Levant).  Enter rich heiress Milo (Foch) who takes an interest in both Jerry’s art and Jerry himself, and makes an offer to Jerry to be a kept man.  Jerry’s hard up for money, and seriously considers it – after all, Milo’s not too bad.  Problem is, Jerry also just met Lise (Caron), a young ingénue who completely swept him off his feet.  But Lise isn’t exactly unattached; in fact, she’s engaged to one of Jerry’s good friends, Henri (Guetary), Jerry just doesn’t know that yet.  How on earth will this complicated entanglement of love and lovers ever possibly resolve itself?

My biggest problem with An American in Paris lies not with the fact that it garnered more awards than it probably should have, or that it indirectly lead to Singin’ in the Rain being shut out come nomination time.  No, my big problem with An American in Paris is in its story.  It’s a bit sordid, a bit seedy, and it never quite gels.  Do I need my musicals to have perfect or completely moral stories?  No, I don’t (Cabaret is pretty awesome and certainly not G-rated), but in An American in Paris, it’s as if the film cannot decide which way it wants to swing with regard to its characters.  Is Jerry a wholesome do-gooder or is he a desperate playboy?  Is Milo a cunning cougar or honestly in love?  I wind up feeling sympathy for characters that the film tells me I shouldn’t like, and I dislike the characters who are clearly meant to be the heroes.  In other films, I embrace this sort of role reversal because it was obviously intended, but in An American in Paris, this is more down to poor character development than any sort of intended moral ambiguity.  I just can’t sympathize as much as the film tells me I’m supposed to with Jerry’s plight – wealth and riches or honest love? – especially when it comes at the expense of peripheral characters who I rather like.  Even when I first watched An American in Paris when I was a wee child who absolutely adored MGM musicals, this one never sat well for me and I seldom, if ever, asked my parents to rent it again.  I liked the lovely dancing and the gorgeous setpieces, but the plot never worked the way it thinks it does.

Now, having said all of that, I still like An American in Paris, and that’s because 1) Gene Kelly 2) Gene Kelly dancing 3) incredibly colorful dance sequences 4) Gene Kelly 5) an amazing ballet finale and 6) Gene Kelly speaking French. 

Yeah, I have a thing for Gene Kelly. 

No, not a thing.  A full on, hardcore crush that has been raging for years and will continue to burn with the heat of a thousand flames for the rest of my life.  We’re talking number one or number two in my all-time crush list.  All time.  Top Two.  The man simply does things to my ovaries.  Like exploding them all over the nice wallpaper.

And man, is he on form in An American in Paris.

We first get the lovely little opening scene where he opens and closes trick contraptions in his tiny little Parisian studio apartment, indirectly showing off his keen sense of choreography and physicality.  Then we get Gene Kelly being goofy and silly with Oscar Levant.  Then we get Gene Kelly singing “I Got Rhythm” with a group of French children, and I honestly don’t think I can handle how utterly adorable he is.  Then he pulls out his classic “falling hopelessly in love” bit and I melt.  I utterly melt. 

Stop it.  Just stop it.  You're killing me.

He’s just. 

I mean. 

So handsome. 

I can’t.

Added for obvious reasons.

When Gene Kelly dances, the world stops spinning to wait until he’s done.  I am entranced, utterly fascinated, with the way he can make his body do things with what appears to be little to no effort.  He’s so smooth and despite the athleticism that he is rightly remembered for, it’s the grace he has that makes him my favorite performer from the era of movie musicals.  Yes, he does all this absolutely staggering choreography, but he makes it seem so easy.  One of my favorite parts of any Gene Kelly musical is when he dances with a partner, because it is here that his talent is most evident.  A dance partner, any dance partner, really shows me how amazing he is, because despite his best efforts to make the dance a true partnership, Kelly always manages to shine.  I can’t take my eyes off him, not for a second, and he just puts everyone he dances with to shame.  If it’s a tap dance sequence, Kelly is smoother, less stilted with his movements.  If it’s a slow dance, a romance, Kelly is more effortless.  If it’s a wild and crazy dance, Kelly commits more.  His talent was so immense, there was simply no containing it, even when he tried.  I can’t tear my eyes away from him when he dances.  This is true star quality. 

And then there’s the final ballet sequence.

I will say, right here, right now, that if movie musical ain’t yo thang, that final ballet sequence must be rather interminable to sit through.  Sixteen uninterrupted minutes of film that doesn’t speak to you in any way doesn’t sound like fun to me either.

Thing is, though, that ballet sequence IS my thing.  To me, it’s the highlight of the entire film.  It’s an extraordinary capper to a film whose story fails to completely captivate me; the extended dance sequence ends the experience on an incredible high note.

The film fantasy to end all film fantasies, the sets, costumes, and choreography are all astounding.  When it is combined with Leonard Bernstein’s incredible score, you have filmmaking that wins all around for Siobhan.  I adore how clever the different styles represent different French painters.  It’s art, plain and simple, art put to film.  (and there are worse things in life than Gene Kelly in a skin tight dance costume during the Toulouse Lautrec sequence.)  And has Technicolor ever gotten a better workout than in this sequence?  It’s simply extraordinary.  To me, it is easily the highlight of the entire film (and even those who don’t enjoy must admit that it gave Gene Kelly a chance to contemplate how to set up the amazing ballet sequence in next year’s Singin’ in the Rain).

I would never count An American in Paris amongst my favorite film musicals, but it’s not a bad musical either.  Gene Kelly is definitely on his game here, in full on ovary-‘sploding mode, and the dance sequences are fantastic.  The story is weak, but the production value is strong.  Whenever I feel the need for a Gene Kelly fix (which is pretty darn often), there are far worse options I can reach for (Summer Stock, anybody?  Which I still rather like) than An American in Paris.

Arbitrary Rating: 8/10.  Because Gene Kelly reasons. 

Musings on Mandela, Philomena, American Hustle, and Nebraska.

I’ve been struck with the unusual-for-me desire to get my butt to the cinemas to enjoy the pickings for 2013.  In these, the first three days of 2014, I’ve done two double-headers at my favorite cinema that shows current releases.  And, because I’m still me, I can’t simply “watch” these movies, I have to also think about and analyze them.  But four 1000-word-plus reviews is a bit too daunting, especially when my blogging skillz are a bit rusty.  So I figured I’d do a briefer review of these four flicks.

Up first:

Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom

2013

Director: Justin Chadwick

Starring: Idris Elba, Naomie Harris

The utterly inevitable movie of Nelson Mandela’s life hits the big screen with brilliant casting being the best thing going for it.  As my students are wont to say, not gonna lie, the only reason I went to see it was Elba.  Idris Elba as anything is automatically worth it; the man is a force of nature, and him as Mandela seemed too good to pass up. 

The film follows a mostly straightforward biographical movie outline, starting with voiceover reminiscences to golden memories of youth, then plunging us almost immediately into young man Mandela’s difficulties and following, in a linear fashion, through the imprisonment we all knew was coming, as well as the release and election.  We also follow the life of Mandela’s second wife Winnie (Harris), who stands by her man while he’s in prison by continuing to lead the revolution movement, even to the point of becoming militant.  Director Chadwick makes an effort to humanize the mythic Mandela, showing him as a red-blooded young man who was a hound dog with the ladies and not exactly husband of the year to his first wife.

Elba does not disappoint as Mandela, filling the screen with rage, righteousness, and then powerful pacifism, and he is easily the strongest aspect of the film.  Harris is also very good as the sweet yet steely Winnie who must also weather great injustices in the family-lead fight to end apartheid.  But the performances are all I can truly recommend; the story feels too disconnected to my liking.  Years pass, peoples’ opinions fundamentally change, and we are given little to no reason for it.  The resolution of the film feels like a hasty mash-up, as if the director realized he had painted himself into a corner of racial warfare and had no idea how to get out.  Now granted, this was undoubtedly a similar situation to the feeling in South Africa at the time, but the 180 that this film pulls feels more than a little incongruous.

Worth it for the performances, but not a hearty recommendation from me.  I will add, for honesty’s sake, that biopics are really not my thing, not in the slightest, so I was predisposed to not being completely moved by this one to begin with.

Arbitrary Rating: 6/10

Philomena

2013

Director: Stephen Frears

Starring: Judi Dench, Steve Coogan

After my final statement about Mandela having a strike against it simply because it wasn’t my type of film, I will now own up and say that going in, I knew Philomena WAS my type of movie, and after seeing it, yes, most definitely, it’s my type of flick, for sure.  Objectively, though, I do believe Philomena is a stronger film (although, probably not as much stronger than Mandela as my rating will reflect).

Judi Dench plays the titular character, a silly, elderly lady who loves her salad buffets with toasty croutons, snacks on the road, and frivolous romance novels.  But Philomena’s secret of fifty years, that she gave birth to a baby boy when she was just sixteen years old at a Catholic nunnery in Ireland who was then later adopted against her will, is gnawing at her.  With the help of recently-unemployed big time journalist Martin Sixsmith (Coogan), who needs a human interest story to set him back on track, she goes about finally trying to track down her long lost son. 

Everyone knows that Judi Dench can act circles around pretty much anyone, but what’s unusual in her performance here is how utterly ordinary and regular Philomena is.  I’m used to Judi Dench playing either someone of great esteem (a la Shakespeare in Love) or someone with something unusual about them (a la Iris).  Philomena is neither.  Yes, you can certainly argue that having a long lost son is unusual, but after seeing the film, Philomena still feels ordinary.  She’s just a fussy, aging Irish Catholic woman who colors her hair and wears old lady clothes, and Dench does her proud, giving her grace and humanity and a full range of emotions alongside all her silliness.

Maybe more surprising than Dench playing such a regular character is the fact that Steve Coogan can play a straight man (in the comedic sense, not the sexual sense).  For everything that Philomena loves about ordinary, middle-class comforts, Martin is used to the finer things.  As a former international political journalist, Martin is an Oxford-educated, BMW-driving, boutique-restaurant-frequenting perfect foil to Philomena.  Watching her get on his nerves and under his skin is half the film, but it’s an enjoyable relationship to explore, as Dench is careful to never let Philomena get too silly, just as Coogan is careful to keep Martin from being too snobby or curmudgeonly. 

Because ultimately, silly caricatures aside, this film has tremendous depth of heart.  The story that is explored, about the long lost son, is done so with as few clichés as I’ve ever seen.  When you think you know where the story is headed, it throws you an enormous curveball, one that requires both lead actors to show us new aspects of their characters, or expand tremendously on ideals that have already been established.  It’s sweet and funny but never cloying, never overly sentimental. 

To reiterate, this is very much my kind of film.  The wry British sense of humor is on full display, it touches without manhandling you, and who knew Steve Coogan could hold his own against powerhouse Dench. 

Arbitrary Rating: 9/10.

American Hustle

2013

Director: David O. Russell

Starring: Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Lawrence

Perhaps the buzziest of the films I’ve seen recently, American Hustle is certainly riding a wave of good press and award nominations. Without necessarily meaning this as an insult, American Hustle is the type of film meant to appeal to Academy voters.  I won’t use the term Oscar-bait due to its negative connotations, but American Hustle feels exactly the sort of edgy, flashy, seriocomic film that the Academy can feel terrifically justified in nominating.  “Look how hep we are, we’re recognizing American Hustle!” they proclaim with glee.

Overweight and balding Irving (Bale) is a con artist working out of New York who falls madly in love with Sydney (Adams), a beautiful creature who eagerly joins him in his cons.  The fact that Irving is already married to Rosalyn (Lawrence), a slightly crazy hausfrau, is a minor hiccup.  But when they are nabbed by an FBI agent (Cooper), they both agree to his terms of running a con to bring down some politicians in exchange for a reduced sentence.  But really, when politicians, the mob, the FBI, and con artists are all thrown into the mix, who’s conning who?

The style of American Hustle was probably my favorite part.  The late seventies, in all its glitzy, superficial glory, is on full display, and we have our fill of overdone hair, polyester shirts, and New Jersey accents.  Amy Adams is terrifically sexy in shirts and dresses that plunge to her navel, and Jeremy Renner as a Jersey politico happily prances around in pale blue tuxedos with frilly sleeves.  The film is dressed in golds and browns, giving the entire story an air of wistful nostalgia, as though our con artists are recounting their glory days.

The performances are, again, top notch.  Particularly delightful was Jennifer Lawrence as Rosalyn.  Unhinged yet manipulative all at the same time, Lawrence pulls it off and then some.  She’s definitely making a strong case for being up for the big prize for a second year in a row.

However, there’s something that never quite coalesces in American Hustle.  Like Mandela, the finale feels somehow inadequate to the tremendous build up it is given.  Is it about the con or is it about the drama of the characters at hand?  Frankly, the film waffles on this question, and ultimately, I felt there were unanswered issues on both of those sides.

I enjoyed American Hustle, but not absolutely.  It is a good film, a strong film, but it didn’t blow me away.

Arbitrary Rating: 8/10

Nebraska

2013

Director: Alexander Payne

Starring: Will Forte, Bruce Dern, June Squibb

Full disclosure: I am a slavering little Alexander Payne fangirl, due in no small part to the fact that I’ve now met him twice, have his autograph, and a picture with him.  I’ve even spoken to him about his filmmaking style.  I enjoyed his films before I met him, but now?  Now I’m a devotee for life.  Given that he only makes a film once every two to three years, it was an utter no brainer for me to see his latest.  Spoiler: I loved Nebraska.  But then, frankly, I was always going to love Nebraska.

David Grant (Forte) sells speaker systems and electronics in a strip mall in Billings, Montana.  His father Woody (Dern) is an alcoholic and not altogether with it retired auto mechanic.  When Woody gets one of those magazine promo letters proclaiming that he’s won one million dollars (provided his number matches and he buys some magazine subscriptions), all he sees is the one million dollars.  Convinced he just hit it big, he becomes obsessed with the idea of getting to Lincoln, Nebraska, to claim his winnings, and ultimately, a harassed David agrees to take him.  On the way, they stop in Hawthorne, Nebraska, the tiny near-ghost town where Woody grew up.  Woody visits with his old family and friends, all the while spreading the news about his apparent good luck.

There are so many things I adore about Alexander Payne, and this film has them all.  I was amused as the credits rolled at the end, because Nebraska was precisely what I expected it to be given what I know about Payne’s filmography.  I don’t think this is a bad thing; on the contrary, I think it means that Payne knows clearly who he is as a filmmaker and can deliver his message in a vivid and consistent manner.

I have decided that Alexander Payne is in love with the American working class, but he is also determined to show them as they are, not as they think they are or wish to be.  There is so much truth in Nebraska in this regard that the number one criticism I have seen leveled at the film is that Payne is mocking the small town folk of his film.  I could not disagree more.  There are some less-than-positive characters and moments in Nebraska, but nothing ever feels as though it is played for cheap laughs.  Instead, everything feels… real.  Painfully real, but thoroughly real.  I went to college in an area not unlike those shown in Nebraska, and I visited friends’ homes who lived close by whose families behaved precisely – and I do mean PRECISELY – like the family in Nebraska.  That’s why I don’t think there is any mocking meant here; I’ve seen these scenes before, I’ve seen these places before, just never on the big screen.

Furthermore, Payne himself is from Nebraska.  He shot his first feature Election (the film that made me a fangirl of his to begin with) in Nebraska, and when I’ve heard him speak, he always spoke lovingly of the area in which he grew up.  A year ago when I last saw him, he announced this film and I could hear how excited he was to make a film about his home.  I see affection, not mocking, in Nebraska, culminating in the gently poignant yet utterly devastating finale sequence.  There is so much love in the ending of the film that, while Payne undoubtedly calls out the less than savory characters in the story, showing them for the superficial assholes they ultimately become, he also knows there are heroes in his story, and they are glorious.  Mocking?  Not in the slightest.  Loving yet careful not to romanticize?  Absolutely.

Apart from the simple characters who reek undoubtedly of truth, my favorite aspect of Payne’s work is his production design.  Or perhaps, lack of production design.  What I passionately adore about Payne is his devotion to filming on real locations, locations that haven’t been meticulously manicured.  He uses real houses, real motels, real bars, real chain restaurants, and his extras are real people.  When he does need to film on a set, more often than not, the set is modeled on an actual house or room.  There are knick knacks everywhere, dirty dishes in the sink, cracks in the driveway, leaves in the pool, and scratches on the linoleum.  It’s not that his films are dirty or dank; it’s that they’re fucking REAL.  The living room looks like a real living room, warts and all.  I’ve always noticed and responded to this in his films, and it’s what I had a chance to ask him last time I saw him.  When I mentioned this to him, that I loved that he uses real places, I remember so vividly that he smiled broadly, and responded with “I don’t understand why we need to prettify everything.”  Indeed.

While Payne plays the utter ordinariness of the world around his characters in most of the film as flat and banal, he also shoots the film occasionally with great beauty.  When the film reaches its emotional climax, suddenly the everyday locations around seem majestic.  Payne lingers on a shot of a wide open field, the sun breaking through a magnificent cloud formation.  Because truly, there is extraordinariness in the everyday.

Bruce Dern as Woody is brilliant in quietly showing us a sad old man desperately clinging to one last wish for glory.  Are we annoyed with Woody or do we pity Woody?  Well, both, sometimes at the same time.  As David discovers more about his father on this road trip, we see far more in the simple facial expressions than the curmudgeonly drunk we meet at the beginning.  Will Forte is easily an unusual casting choice, as he is known almost completely for broad comedic work, playing a caricature of a caricature.  Here, though, he carries off a decidedly downbeat performance, following in the footsteps of Jack Lemmon in The Apartment.  It’s not as brilliant a performance as Lemmon’s is, but I can see the influence, and I imagine Forte being inspired by Lemmon in this role. 

I knew what to expect from Nebraska, so when I found myself sobbing rather uncontrollably at the quiet finale of the film, I wasn’t surprised in the least.  I was happy, though; happy that Payne had delivered once again on a simple human story, relatable to the last, that kept me happily engaged throughout its entirety and then packed an inevitable punch at the end.

Arbitrary Rating: 9.5/10.  The only thing I can level against Nebraska is that the pacing isn’t always as tight as it could be, and it drags a bit in the middle.  But in terms of what I want from Alexander Payne, Payne proves that he knows how to deliver it in a mature and confident manner.  I also recognize that if Payne’s previous films haven’t floated your boat, you will undoubtedly find Nebraska incredibly grating.

Up next for Siobhan: eagerly looking forward to Her being released wider next weekend.  I might make an effort to see Inside Llewyn Davis as well.  Might try to catch Gravity when it comes to the second-run theater in town.  And of course, whenever The Grand Budapest Hotel finds its way to my local theaters, I’ll be there with bells on.  I’ll also be looking out for Blue is the Warmest Color playing any wider, and I’ve got my eyes peeled for whenever Walesa: Man of Hope plays around here.  Because I NEED to see that movie.

Frankly, it’s been rather lovely seeing some more current release films in theaters again.  I do love this time of year for current releases, when the theaters are full of films trying their hands at Oscar nominations, when small character-centric comedy dramas are the order of the day rather than big blow ‘em up action flicks. 

In terms of 1001 Movies, my job is… more under control now than it was in the fall.  I’m looking to recommit myself, in the non-sanatorium sort of way, to blogging and The Club. 

Oh, and in a personal plug, I’ll find out end of January/beginning of February if my proposal for presenting at a national conference this summer was accepted.  Personally, I think my workshop idea is pretty darn awesome, but still, wish me luck. 

OH, and my old laptop finally started crapping the bed in December, so this entire review is coming to you from my bright, shiny, brand new touch screen Asus laptop.  No optical drive, so it’s gorgeous and light and doesn’t overheat every hour and doesn’t need to be constantly plugged in (thus defeating the point of a laptop).  YAY CHRISTMAS YAY NEW TOYS!!!

Monsoon Wedding

Monsoon Wedding

2001

Director: Mira Nair

Starring: Naseeruddin Shah, Vasundhara Das, Shefali Shetty, Vijay Raaz

There was a time in my life, for quite a few years, actually, when my cinematic diet consisted entirely of the same fare that is Monsoon Wedding.  In the past ten years or so, I’ve stretched myself, imbibing film after film that is far beyond genres I usually watch, learning to love movies outside my comfort zone.  It’s been a wonderful experience, and one that I wouldn’t change, but every now and then, it feels incredibly comforting to settle down with a frothy little romantic dramedy.  Seeing Monsoon Wedding for the first time took me back, man.

Aditi (Das) is getting married.  Her father (Shah) is stressed, the wedding planner (Raaz) is an incompetent goofball, and her cousin Ria (Shetty) seems to be depressed.  Aditi herself isn’t terribly jazzed about the arranged marriage to an Indian man from Houston, Texas she’s never met, especially as she’s still in love with her married ex-boyfriend.  As the scores of relatives descend upon the family house for the days of wedding ceremonies, romance blossoms in unlikely places just as old family secrets are revealed.  Nothing like a wedding to bring out the best – and worst – in people.

  

Undoubtedly, the central theme of Monsoon Wedding is the universality of the Crazy Family.  This is a film cut from the same cloth as My Big Fat Greek Wedding, with a cast of cacophonous characters doing their best to confuse you with their identities and separate plights.  There are several storylines continually being developed by the rather large cast, but in the end, it doesn’t matter, because it’s really just about this family muddling through.  Wait, there’s one scene where the father mentions money problems but it doesn’t really go anywhere?  No worries.  The story of the younger brother being sent off to boarding school feels markedly unresolved?  Don’t trouble yourself.  Just as in real life, not every tangent can find a conclusion in the time span of a long weekend.  Monsoon Wedding is about family, plain and simple, and how everyone in the family carries their own cross to bear, but ultimately love, be it romantic or familial, finds a way to triumph. 

Multiple plotlines and large casts can feel confusing, and when you add in the fact that Hindi, Punjabi, and English are all spoken in Monsoon Wedding, sometimes even in the same five minute period, the film constantly feels as though it’s teetering on a knife’s edge.  Credit where credit is due, then, to director Mira Nair, who manages to keep all the balls in the air and continually moves the film forward by focusing on Aditi’s wedding ceremony.  I’ll admit I was a bit overwhelmed during the first half hour of the film, but when I realized that this is a classic example of ensemble casting – and when I turned on the English subtitles for the English lines – everything started to fall into place.  I might not have every character’s name down pat, but by the end, I knew who was interested in whom and how the conclusion benefited which person and why.  Everything comes out in the wash.

  

The romance in Monsoon Wedding was rather lovely.  Although overshadowed by the focus on Aditi’s wedding and her angst about an arranged marriage and her ex, my favorite of the multiple romantic plotlines was easily that of inept wedding planner Dubey and household maid Alice.  Aditi’s family is most definitely upper middle class, if not upper class, and this was the one part of the story that dared delve into class distinctions in India.  Dubey is shown to live in a tiny apartment with a nagging mother, and Alice is the maid.  Watch her face when she first accidentally bumps into Dubey and he says “Forgive me.”  You can read her shock that she wasn’t blamed for the accident, that it wasn’t assumed it was her fault.  Right from that very first moment, I knew how this romance would blossom, but I didn’t care that it was already spelled out.  I wanted to watch these two, whose lives were definitely a bit harder and rougher than Aditi’s family, find their little bit of happiness.  The fact that Aditi’s family includes them in their own wedding ceremony at the end of the movie is heartwarming.

Like every decent romantic dramedy out there, there is more than a whiff of the fairy tale in Monsoon Wedding.  Things wrap up a little too nicely, especially in Aditi’s plot line, to be believable.  At all.  Not every plot line is based on romance, but even in the more serious story line, things seem to resolve a little too nicely.  But you know what?  I’m okay with that.  I wasn’t expecting hard-hitting realism in a story about an Indian upper class wedding.  It’s nice, every now and then, to bid adieu to any semblance of real life and live in a world where everyone gets their happy ending.  Like I said, I used to subsist on a cinematic diet of nothing but films like this.  I welcome the fairy tale, the fantasy, the happy ending.  

  

And yet what really makes Monsoon Wedding work is that it is a fairy tale masquerading as a real life story.  There is a great blend of the two, and although the story tiptoes near the borders of Bollywood excess, it never pushes over the edge.  Sweet without being sickening and with just enough emotional poignancy to make it feel substantial, Monsoon Wedding achieves its goal.  It’s diverting, escapist, well-made fun. 

Arbitrary Rating: 8/10