Favorite Films: Movies That Time Forgot

“We live in an age where the artist is forgotten. He is a researcher. I see myself that way.” — David Hockney

There are so many films being made today one would think we’re entering a new Golden Age of filmmaking. Clearly, this couldn’t be further from the truth. The reality of mass corportate consumer culture and advertising dominating the entertainment scene has in fact brought movie making backwards. Way backwards. And despite the amazing technologies now available (and the multitude of talented people working in the industry), both the art and craft of films has gone significantly down in both depth and quality. The writing is either formulaic or pretentious, the direction noisy and disjointed, and the camera work is all over the place. Even some of the greatest actors of our generation seem to be mailing it in, passing through it purely for the money. The result is we’re dominated by categorical products tailored to specific viewer groups; teenager romantic comedies, holiday fare (the Halloween & Christmas usuals), big budget superhero blockbusters, and last but not least, 3D animated sequels and “classics” reboots. It gets tiring and nothing is more forgettable. (Can anyone even recount the musical scores from today’s movies?) Hence, I’ve been encouraged to discuss four truly great films to counter this regression or at least the feeling of it — gems that time forgot — films made with wit, creativity and power produced during a time when genuine creative writing and directorial courage was still encouraged.

Deliverance (directed by John Boorman)

Headed by the stellar cast of Burt Reynolds, Ned Beatty, Jon Voight, and Ronnie Cox, Deliverance is a film that grabs onto your senses and keeps its grip on you long after it’s over. Bound together by a tight script by James Dickey who adapted it from his own original novel, it’s a story about two things: the battle between man and nature and the (still) on-going battle between urban and rural America. The premise is simple: four city-dwelling friends get together for some oldschool male-bonding via an escapist adventure canoeing down the dangerous Chattooga River, deep in the wildlands of the Appalachian countryside in Georgia. Experienced canoeists and civilized men who lead happy if perhaps dull lives, they have no idea what they’re about to encounter. The exhilarating journey forces each of the men to question both themselves and the romantic vision of a “free and united” America. When the adventure ends, the lives of these men and their relationship with each other will never be the same. I dare not give away any of the details and spoil it for those who have yet to visit this film but under John Boorman’s taut direction and Vilmos Zsigmund’s uncanny cinematography, Deliverance not only delivers, it teases, bites, shocks and terrifies. In my opinion, it’s an underrated masterwork made by a masterful director.

One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest (directed by Milos Foreman)

There aren’t too many films that feature a delectable concoction of such wit, fun and tragedy as Milos Foreman’s One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. A winner of six Academy Awards (Best Picture, Director, Writer, Actor, Actress, and Supporting Actor) The movie begins with convicted criminal Randal McMurphy (Jack Nicholson) being transfered to a psychiatric ward for evaluation. There, he meets a cast of rather unusual characters, all whom, surprisingly, have volunteerily checked themselves in for psychological treatment. At first, McMurphy is sly and clownish, like a man whose cunning plan to escape serving prison time has worked out perfectly, perhaps even better than he had hoped. He makes loads of friends, toys with the medical and nursing staff and, like a highschool clown both disrupting and controlling the classroom, he’s having a ball. That is, until the confrontations between McMurphy and the head nurse, the infamous Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher), get really dark and serious. The battle of wills and the psychological violence that ensues is both humorously exciting and terrifying. The film questions what is normal and what constitutes psychosis but it also brings to focus the validity of the methodologies used to treat patients in such institutions and the unchecked power of those responsible for them. In the end, the film is a treatise on individuality and freedom, the very things all of us are looking for but few of us truly find.

12 angry men (directed by Sidney Lumet)

I love this film and everytime I see it, I love it even more. Shot almost exclusively inside a small room, it’s not a film concerned with physical pyrotechnics, elaborate production design or eye-candy special effects. Instead it’s a film that shows us all how having only a solid script combined with tight direction and superb acting (led by Henry Fonda) can do to an audience. Made back in 1957, and shot in black in white, 12 Angry Men is a tale about 12 jurors who are to be strictly secluded in a room until they arrive at a final verdict for a young man charged with murder. What initially appears to be a slam dunk case for a conviction turns into a drama that seethes with tension as a battle between the jurors builds and builds as the night marches on. At first, the story seems simply to be about just another murder case but the real tale is one that cuts much deeper, like what happens to our humanity when man is faced with the uncomfortable truth; can man really know truth? Can he accept it? As we see how each man’s intentions are exposed during the deliberations, we as the audience, too, are forced to look at ourselves and realize how easy it is to be prejudiced, and often so without knowing that we are. In Lumet’s 12 Angry Men this important and profound message is not merely preached, it is experienced.

Midnight Cowboy (directed by John Schlesinger)

I recently saw Midnight Cowboy only for the first time (somehow, this film has eluded me all these years). I was totally bewitched by its power. Buoyed by touching, complex performances by acting stalwarts Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight, the film sneaks up on you, brewing slowly yet richly, it forms a kind of spell rarely witnessed in movies today. A story about two strange and downtrodden castaways, we get an in-close exposé of the lives of men with so little that all they’ve got is each other. One man, Joe Buck (Voight), is a mere gigalo, one who hopes to parlay his cowboy charm on women in the big city (New York) to arrive at what he thinks is the American dream. The other, Ratso (Hoffman), is a disabled and homeless conman with naive dreams of his own but who barely scrapes by an existence. Neither have much direction in life, both are burdened with a painful and dark history. Controversial due to its’ daring themes and imagery at the time, this is a movie that shouldn’t really be explained and to do so would be to rob it of its immense power. There is so much sadness, innocence, sincerity, and beauty here. Add to it John Barry’s mesmerizing score, and we’re beholden to its magic. Midnight Cowboy can not be described as anything less than an absolute masterpiece of American cinema.

To see more great film recommendations go here.

Women in Art: Part 2 — film roles

In our continuing series about Women in Art, we’re focusing on the roles women have taken in the art of film. Since time began, women’s roles in movies were almost always secondary — a love interest, the damsel in distress waiting to be rescued or slightly more interesting, the alluring femme fatale. Much like how women have been viewed in most of mankind’s history and culture of male dominance, women more often than not took the backseat even if they sometimes get to sit up front as a convenient passenger. Even today despite the advances in social justice, great roles for women are rare. But it is getting better; there are more women in movies, increased promotion of female stars and higher salaries. There’s even films produced, written and directed by women. That said, if Hollywood only supports already-approved versions of half-naked and gorgeous-faced females, then it’s not worth getting too excited about. More progress needs to be made and that can only come from a greater appreciation in the diversity of roles, stories and impressions we have of women.

Here, we’ll showcase a sample of films not just starring women but about women — roles that tell their stories, ones worth getting excited about and to be inspired by.

37 Seconds (Directed by Hikari)

I really enjoyed what Hikari (a female writer and director) does here with 37 Seconds — it’s got that feeling of a true story even if it isn’t one. But what is true, is that it stars a new actress who actually has cerebral palsy. Born disabled Yuma (Mei Kayama) is an unknown 23 year-old manga artist who’s trying to make sense of her life, her relationships and her sense of independence. A very fresh take on a coming of age story, Mei’s performance, because her physicality is real, gives the film weight. Her innocent wanderings against her mother’s watchful eye, feel both liberating and yet dangerous. The outside world is both exciting and cruel, especially so for someone in her condition. And the more Yuma explores the universe, the more joy and pain she suffers, but she can’t help but want more of it. She finds truth, both beautiful and ugly. I wish not to give any thing away here, but the film concludes in a fashion that surprises. It’s beyond mere sentiment — one is caught experiencing real courage and generosity that moves the heart in a deep and meaningful way. 37 Seconds is an inspiring film for anyone, but especially so for young woman.

Lost in Translation (Directed by Sofia Coppola)

Sofia Coppola’s gem Lost in Translation is a celebration of youthful wander and wonder. The story begins with a young newly married American Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) who moves to Tokyo with her photographer husband. There she finds herself completely alone, her partner far too busy to spend any time with here as his celebrity-driven career consumes him as it does many in his field. At the hotel-residence she’s staying she finds unexpected friendship in Bob (Bill Murray), an older American actor who’s in Japan shooting an ad for a whiskey company — this is common for past-their-prime Hollywood actors whose celebrity status enables them to secure an income and lifestyle they’ve been accustomed to. Charlotte’s character is both young and innocent, yet sad and lost. We can feel her moments of joy as our own, as well as her melancholy and loneliness. Complemented by Bill Murray’s restrained humour and grace, the two stars make wonderful visual music. Lost in Translation never fails to make me laugh or smile. There’s an exquisitely-controlled sense of the romantic; it’s fun, tender and strangely sincere despite operating in the surreal, neon-coloured atmosphere of Japanese nightlife.

Million Dollar Baby (Directed by Clint Eastwood)

What a film Million Dollar Baby is. A small story about a small town girl too poor, too lost, and too old to become anything in a world as cruel and lonely as the one she inhabits. She, of course, is Maggie Fitzgerald (Hilary Swank) a single 30 plus year old woman with literally nothing except a dream, to become a boxer. She searches out and finds herself in the boxing gym of Frankie Dunn (Clint Eastwood), a veteran Los Angeles boxing trainer who doesn’t really have much more than she does other than the reputation for being a great trainer. After much pleading Maggie coerces the reluctant Dunn to train her, and with the encouragement and help of Eddie Dupris (Morgan Freeman), a former contender who also hasn’t much except his friendship with Dunn, she becomes a world class contender. But the journey to stardom, as compelling as it is, isn’t nearly as powerful as what the journey does to these three characters. As a film, the direction is tight and genuinely emotional and both Eastwood and Freeman do amazing work in supporting roles but the real star is Hilary Swank who wins her second Oscar. Her portrayal is so sincere, so heartfelt, that it makes the ending almost unbearable. But years later, watching the Million Dollar Baby again, one realizes the real message of the film and it’s hidden optimism; Maggie’s story is actually a triumphant one. She was dealt a bad hand at the start and a bad hand at the end, but what she did in the middle — in that short time in a boxing gym — she lived her dream and became happier than she ever thought she could be. It’s a reminder that it’s not the hand you’re dealt that matters but how you play it and in so doing, transform your own life and the lives of those around you.

The Puzzle (Directed by Marc Turtletaub)

Kelly Macdonald is one of the most underrated, underused gems in the acting world. She’s always been a scene stealer — as the wild-underaged Diane in Danny Boyle’s electric indie film Trainspotting, the innocent hand maiden Mary in Robert Altman’s mystery drama Gosford Park, and the adorable Karla Jean in the Coen brothers’ masterpiece No Country for Old Men. In Marc Turtletaub’s Puzzle she finally gets a starring role and paired with the late Irrfan Khan, Macdonald shines big. She plays Agnes, a 40 year-old married mother of two whose life has become so routine, so boring and meaningless that she knows exactly what’s about to happen every minute of the day (she even predicts with perfect accuracy the seconds it takes for her husband to wake up to the alarm). Her life is one entirely devoted to caring for others. The opening birthday scene with it’s muted lighting and carefully subdued staging says it all — Agnes has no life. But during that same birthday party (which was her own) she receives on one hand, an iphone and on the other, which interests her more, a 1000 piece jig saw puzzle. As it turns out she’s a natural at this puzzle-solving business. Completely hooked, she decides one day to head to the big city to find the store where such “difficult” puzzles are sold. There she finds and responds to an ad for a “puzzle partner” for entering into contests. After meeting Robert (Khan) who’s the current national champion, she gradually awakes from her stupor and the two develop an understated care and love for each other as they continue to practice. But as the experience ignites the life inside her it also places her in direct conflict with her family. The message in the film is quiet but powerful: Puzzles may seem like only games for children but here it serves as a metaphor of our need to find order out of chaos, and sometimes the chains of tradition that many of us, and especially women, continue to be conditioned to accept is the very chaos we must free themselves from. Because at the end, the only order that matters is inner order.

Poetry (Directed by Lee Chang Dong)

I love the work of Lee Chang Dong. And in his poignant and subtly beautiful film Poetry, he takes us into old age. In Asia, many older women find themselves single, either as a widow or the old grandmother, who lingers on in society often as a caretaker to grandchildren whose parents are absent. In Poetry, 66 year-old Mija (Yoon Jeong‑hee) is stuck with raising her lazy grandson who may have taken part of an assault and murder of a young girl at his local high school. On top of the burden awareness of such a situation brings, Mija also begins to suffer Alzheimer’s disease. She was once a beautiful and chic women, and still dresses with elegance and good taste despite her poor financial outlook, and this brings added distress from judgemental neighbours in the small town of Busan. So here we have a single elderly women, diagnosed with a dreadful illness, financially struggling, and trying to save her grandson from going to jail. But Mija carries herself onward despite all that is happening and along her journey she ends up signing on for a poetry class. There she’s finds something inexplicable — herself. Despite being in such a depleted stage in her life she experiences beauty through art, through seeing. Poetry is surprisingly deep for such a small-scale movie with limited location set. But it’s a beautiful meditation on the living and dying that happens in an elderly woman’s life, a story that’s often left untold.