Category: Favorite Films

Favorite Films: Fun Films

These days, both life and art seem far too serious. And worst of all, it’s serious in all the wrong places. In our society, all our attention is on rushed accumulation (money, information, social approval) and not on living attentively and joyfully each day. In the art of movies, both live action and animated, we’re overburdened with excessively plot driven arrangements — stories that never let one breathe in the atmosphere or allow one to feel for its characters. It’s as if the industry knows and feels that the audience is also in a hurry to be impressed or entertained. Perhaps art does reflect life? But, regardless, I think we’re all getting pretty tired of the endless exposition and cheaply written non-sensical dialogue to make up for weak story construction. Add to that the kind of frenetic camera work and editing that’s near impossible to follow, what we’re witnessing is nothing less than a trite mess that no amount technical eye candy is gonna save.

So in this selection of favorite films, I’ve specifically chosen ones whose topics, though they may still hit home in the heart and mind, don’t take themselves so seriously either in plot or technical wizardry. They are simply films, funny ones that let you enjoy what’s happening on screen. The art of filmmaking is designed to make people forget about themselves by inviting us to live and feel along with the characters no matter how fantastical or ridiculous the set up. Films don’t always have to be to high art, groundbreaking, or even original but they must be visual and interesting. They are ideas and experiences to be expressed and felt by the viewer. These comedies prove that we can be serious about our art without taking ourselves too seriously.

“As a filmmaker, you have to tell a story to the audience, and in so doing you have to translate it into an image, which means you direct the eye and the heart to look in a certain way, the way you want it to be, the way you want them to see it.” — Martin Scorcese, Filmmaker

Planes, Trains and Automobiles (directed by John Hughes)

What an incredibly funny film Planes, Trains and Automobiles is. It’s remarkably simple (and silly!) Really, it’s just a road movie about two guys trying to find their way home for Thanksgiving holiday. But here, Neil Page (Steve Martin) and Del Griffith (John Candy) are a perfect match of comedy misfits that are somehow forced to work together, their traveling fate sealed the moment Del accidentally steals Neil’s taxicab in New York City. You see, Neil Page is a bit of a stuffy, privileged white collar executive, while Del is your regular joe, happy-go-lucky shower curtain ring salesman who’s so kind and charming but also irritating at the same time. Nothing goes right for them as they make their way around the cold country in all kinds of transportation, as the title suggests. The two get on at each other’s nerves throughout their adventure, leading to creative conflict and bountiful good fun. As the film moves — and it keeps moving, visually and physically — we learn more and more about the characters. There’s so much brilliant visual humour, and it never seems to end, until it necessarily does with a surprising yet meaningful ending. Few films let you have this much fun and still give you a wonderful payoff. Both my belly and heart are always satisfied when I watch this film and that makes it a perennial favorite. As a friend of mind said after watching it, “it’s so sad they don’t make films like this anymore.”

My Cousin Vinny (directed by Jonathan Lynn)

I absolutely love My Cousin Vinny. If I need to laugh and smile, this unbelievably low key film does it every time. The magic between the two stars is fantastic, even if seemingly unlikely given the visual disparity. A court case comedy, Vinny (Joe Pesci) is an inexperienced lawyer from New York, who, along with his fiancée Mona Lisa Vito (Marisa Tomei) comes down to Alabama to defend his cousin William Gambini (Ralph Macchio) and his buddy Stan (Mitchel Whitfield). All four characters are like oil in water, being big city folk now congregating in the old South. William and Stan are mistaken for murder but the evidence is heavily against their favour, and this being a backwater town, the paranoia and prejudice run wild and funny. This film shouldn’t be so hilarious, but it is. The characters are wonderfully rendered visual caricatures, with great performances all over and the way the story unfolds, it surprisingly holds you in suspense. For me, it’s the acting that make it so incredibly charming and so visually interesting. Morisa Tomei is so beautiful, funny and sexy here, she won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress while Pesci is at his comic best with the kind of wit only he can deliver. There’s no car chases, no naked bodies nor any fisticuffs (although there is a redneck who’s dying to beat up Vinny if he were to ever get the chance). Unexpectedly funny, My Cousin Vinny has literally zero special effects and doesn’t need them.

Big (directed by Penny Marshall)

Big was the big feature break that Tom Hanks needed to showcase his wonderful talent to the world. Here, in director Penny Marshall’s wonderfully sweet and original comedy, Hanks plays 12 year-old Joshua, who, after making a wish to become “big” at an amusement park, wakes up transformed into a fully-fledged adult overnight. The story, again, is simple; a boy turns into a man who must find his way to return to being a boy while adjusting to becoming a man and in so doing learns the value of friendship, childhood and family. However, the way the story plays out is fresh, and playful, allowing the charm of its star to really shine. Hanks plays a young boy in an adult body better than anyone I’ve seen with a believable innocence and silliness that’s hard to doubt. Visual acting, and comedy especially, is the hardest kind of acting to pull off. Here, we witness a great physical performance that allows us to forget ourselves, and empathize fully with the character and those who love him, namely his best friend, his mother, and even his newfound girlfriend Susan (Elizabeth Perkins) who is overtaken by his strange yet sweet nature. I trust, for those who might see Big for the first time, realize why film making (and film acting) makes its greatest impressions on us when it’s visually interesting.

The God of Cookery (directed by Stephen Chow)

I love watching Stephen Chow’s comedies. They’re ridiculous and often repetitive in its themes and visual tricks, but Chow, both as an actor and writer/director, always finds a way to make people laugh. I believe he succeeds here (and in his other global hits The King of Comedy (my co-favorite), Shaolin Soccer, and the bigger budget and more graphically refined Kung Fu Hustle) because at the heart of his films, it’s all about humanity; the ridiculousness of our daily obsessions, cultures, and overall behaviour are worth dissection and parody. In The God of Cookery, Chow plays an arrogant celebrity chef who gets tossed from his throne and into the slum-ridden street food markets of Hong Kong where he tries to re-work his way back to the top. And of course, throughout the journey, there’s the usual display of unrequited love, a share of the grotesque that caricatures the mannerisms of both the business elite and the impoverished working class, and of course, his love of Kung Fu. It all makes for a fantastical display of colourful characters and comedic action that guarantees laughter. The film is far funnier if one understands the spoken language of Cantonese because Chow manipulates the colloquialisms of the Chinese language in a very unique fashion, but even in subtitled form, the story and humour read loud and clear due to the visuals. Stephen Chow’s artistry is particularly distinct in that he has a tremendous respect for physical comedy and knows how to use the camera to express it effectively. He might also might be one of the best at making us laugh at humanity’s own silly obsession with superficial beauty and success.

Office Space (directed by Mike Judge)

It’s hard to not like Office Space, Mike Judge’s satire of office life and politics. Without the use of any big name stars (unless you consider a still relatively young Jennifer Aniston a star), Judge is able to build a story about characters who can’t stand their place at work. Personally, I can relate heavily to this film, as I, too, once worked in the confines of a corporate office environment, compiling, checking and matching numbers on papers and computers — the kind of work that makes so little sense in the big scheme of things that it’s hard to believe a sane man would actually get up in the morning to do this everyday of his life. In Office Space, that man happens to be Peter Gibbons (Ron Livingston) who is so depressed with his job that he actually agrees to go visit a shrink about it. During the visit, he goes into self-hypnosis but the psychologist actually has a heart attack during the session leaving Peter feeling accidentally yet completely refreshed and no longer burdened by his concerns about his career or even his life. He returns to the job but doesn’t quit, perplexing both his two equally disgruntled office buddies. In fact, his “I don’t give a crap attitude” actually gets him a promotion during an internal company audit while his two pals get the pink slip. He even dumps his mean old girlfriend for the new girl at the restaurant nearby. But of course, things don’t all go smooth. Still bitter about the kind of life and work he and others do at his company, he comes up with a scheme to pilfer, bit by bit, money from them. And there lies his journey to find that there is no way out of the mundaneness of work, and that sacrificing one’s ethics, even if just a bit, has its price. Office Space is truly silly, and yet at the same time completely right about the stupidity of our daily work lives — namely, that we all make too much of it. I used to get stressed out about numbers and such, but like the oft-mentioned TPS report, they’re all just symbols of absolute meaninglessness.

For more film recommendations, check out the Favorite Films Category.

Favorite Films: About Art & Artists

La Belle Noiseuse is often cited as the greatest film about art ever made.

There have been many attempts by the film industry to make movies about artists and their art. Many of them are boring or preaching. Most lack the impact and inspirational power of the craft or the artists profiled. Almost all but a few have failed. Case in point, Jacques Rivette’s exceptionally slow but much revered film La Belle Noiseuse — about a painter’s relationship with his model — fails to inspire anyone who’s at least somewhat familiar with the process of making art. Even the recent Loving Vincent, which was meticulously rendered in the style of Van Gogh’s paintings, isn’t able to hold one’s attention for long. But here is a selection of films about art that I think do excite and inspire us as creatives.

Pollock (Directed by Ed Harris)

I love Ed Harris’ portrayal of iconic modernist painter Jackson Pollock. The film has a great energy to it. Buoyed by Jeff Beal’s inspirational score, Harris’ Pollock (the director himself plays the title character) feels completely believable. We witness the rebel-like attitude of the action painter pioneer as he battles through his desires and fears, including both his envy of other artists (note his disparaging remarks about Picasso and his slight jab at friend and fellow contemporary Willem deKooning) as well as his existential dread (he’s fully aware how fleeting success is and how luck has such a large part to play as he openly acknowledges that he’d be nothing if not for wife and painter Lee Krasner who was his biggest supporter and promotor.) The film travels through the most inventive years of Pollock’s life — his meeting Krasner, his introduction to and relationship with critical figures such as millionaire collector Peggy Guggenheim and influential art critic Klem Greenberg, his shocking car accident that would end his life at only 44 years of age. Whenever I watch Pollock I feel the urge to paint. It isn’t a film that glorifies the painter but it moves you which is what art is supposed to do.

Shine (Directed by Scott Hicks)

Scott Hicks’ 1996 film Shine is a story about redemption. Based on the true life story of pianist David Helfgott, it follows the life of a child prodigy whose upbringing and circumstances lead to a gradual psychological breakdown and eventual seclusion inside a mental institution. Less a film about music itself, it nonetheless captures the deep psychological challenges each artist faces in living up to his talent and destiny. In David’s case, we witness a young shy boy who’s tormented by the strict parenting of his obsessive and even abusive father played with piercing intensity by Armin Miller. Growing up to become an artist is always scary despite even obvious talents. In Hicks’ film, we witness the harshness of that reality both for the artist and his family, which is poverty stricken and desolate. When David finally makes it to the Royal Academy of Music, much to the dismay of his father who cruelly disowns him, he suffers a terrible and dramatic mental breakdown. What follows is what happens to David after he’s already spent much time institutionalized. The much older David (played by Geoffrey Rush) is brought out of the clinic due to the kind generosity of a nurse/caretaker who takes him in, exposing David again to the outside world. It is there happenstance gives rise to David’s second chance at growing up. Of course, he can’t fully do so but nonetheless arrives at a place of joy and maturity to rediscover and reclaim his excellence in his craft. Shine is wholly inspiring — it moves the heart and gives hope to all of us who might have experienced a less-than-ideal upbringing that redemption is possible. The music, of course, is wonderful and made me a lover of Rachmaninov’s powerful compositions. Geoffrey Rush’s wonderfully accurate and transformative depiction of the real David Helfgott is amazing and is most deserving of the Oscar for Best Actor.

Midnight In Paris (Directed by Woody Allen)

I love this film. I think it’s one of Allen’s most charming and creative. More about art’s influence rather than about an artist’s work, Midnight in Paris stars Owen Wilson as a Hollywood screenwriter who’s on a trip with his wife Inez (Rachel McAdams) and her family. Wilson’s character, Gil Pender, is rather unspectacular. Married to a picture-perfect wife with money to spare and a secure if not inspiring career, he’s lost. He wants to be a real writer but no one seems to care or want him to deviate from his “stable” life. In Paris, he begins to discover himself. And it all begins on a solo midnight stroll where he happens upon a vehicular carriage that takes him back in time — a time of the Golden Age of French creative and social life, the 1920’s. There he meets the heroes of his dreams — Ernest Hemmingway, F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein and even artists like Picasso and Salvador Dali. He even finds himself falling in love with the beautiful Adrianna (Marion Cottilard). Unfortunately his magical road trip occurs only at midnight and ends with him back in the present time (2010) where life is back to the banal. Back in modern reality Gil is trapped — accosted by his wife (who believes Gil has lost his mind) and put down by her parents and mocked by Paul, a pedantic critic whom his wife Inez is absolutely infatuated with. Midnight in Paris is, in its totality, funny, original and magical. Wilson is terrific in his role and at the end, it seems we do learn something; it’s easy to think that the past was better than the present but like Gil says at the end to Adriana after having arrived at another time-transported age: “we’re always gonna think there was another Golden Age better than the one you’re in… you see what I’m saying? These people didn’t have antibiotics!”

Dreams (Directed by Akira Kurosawa)

Dreams is not a film particularly about art or artists — although one of its stories does feature the painter Vincent Van Gogh (aptly portrayed by legendary director Martin Scorcese) — but about the visions artists have. It’s a strange and almost disjointed movie, composed of eight vignettes, each one a dish that illuminates the imagination. Apparently based on actual dreams the director had himself, they come across as mythic — one about a soldier’s terror from the past, another about a boy’s visit with Shinto-like Fox gods, and even an apocalyptic vision about a nuclear meltdown. Each story in Dreams is magical and gorgeous to look at it while carrying with it a harrowing sense of both existential wonder and terror. The film feels like a series of living illustrations that moves through the seasons of nature and that of our hearts and minds, allowing us as viewers to both witness and participate in — it feels less like a viewing and more like an experience. Kurosawa doesn’t use any of his familiar actors here, so in that sense the film is lacking in character performance. Fortunately, that’s more than made up for in its stunning compositions and powerful mood, representing again the true power of the film.

8 1/2 (Directed by Federico Fellini)

Federico Fellini’s glorious epic 8 1/2 can be both hypnotic, dizzying and confusing. Beautifully shot in black in white, it captures the dream-like atmosphere that often exists in the mind of the artist. In this case, the artist is film director Guido Anselmi (played by Marcello Mastroianni) which makes this film somewhat autobiographical in many ways, as Fellini, a successful pioneering director himself, was arriving at his own creative crossroads. It’s a film filled with rich imagery intertwined with issues and themes about ego, sexual desire, ambition, and existential plight. When watching 8 1/2 one has to be immensely patient; there often seems no logic at times, as characters shift in and out of scenes leaving the viewer’s grasp on what’s real versus what’s imagined uncertain thus echoing the protagonist’s own dilemma. And that’s the beauty of the movie. The characters seem to be buoyed by their own fantasies and it even looks that way, as the pioneering cinematography makes the characters seem to float and dance on the sets rather than walk in them. The opening scene (where Guido escapes from his vehicular gridlock and literally floats into the sky) foreshadows what we’re about to experience but we don’t realize the depths and psychological impact of it until the last scene; once we arrive there we begin to understand that life is beautiful and that it’s meant to be celebrated no matter how little sense any of it actually makes.

To see more Favorite Films go here.