SPIRIT OF ST. LOUIS, THE

(April 1957, U.S.)

Those of my generation may only be aware of Charles Lindbergh for two reasons. The first would be the infamous kidnapping and murder of his infant son Charles. Jr. in 1932, which at that time, was dubbed by the American media as the "Crime of the Century" (we in the 1990s would have bestowed that honor to the O.J. Simpson murders). Some of us may even recall the crime slightly fictionalized in Sidney Lumet's 1974 film version of Agatha Christie's MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS. The second would be James Stewart's performance as "Lindy" or "Slim" in Billy Wilder's THE SPIRIT OF ST. LOUIS, based on Lindbergh's autobiographical account of his 1927, thirty-three hour solo trans-Atlantic flight in a custom-built, single engine, single seat monoplane called "Spirit of St. Louis" from Roosevelt Field, Long Island across the Atlantic Ocean to Le Bourget Field in Paris, France; a flight that made aviation history.

Told in a rather non-linear format, the film not only chronicles the flight itself, but flashbacks and reminisces Lindbergh's early days in aviation, including his days as an airmail pilot, a flight instructor, a barnstorming pilot and a flying circus pilot. For the legendary flight itself, we see from its inception that it's an American undertaking that not only requires high finance, but also the necessary spirit that supports such historical undertakings. One cannot help but recall the 1983 film THE RIGHT STUFF, which chronicled the American spirit behind the space race of the 1960s. Unlike that film, though, Charles Lindbergh is alone on his journey and consequently, will die alone if the plane fails to reach its destiny. We're not just watching a pilot take command of a plane that he's come to know very well through design and weight calculations, but a man who's not slept in three days and struggles to maintain control over his fate, as well as his sanity. Even as he appears to be making social pleasantries with a fly that's determined to stay inside his plane for a while, we can surely appreciate the madness one must be facing traveling alone over the middle of the uncharted ocean and the subsequent need to talk to someone or something like a fly, or even himself.

As we travel alongside Lindbergh, it's easy to be overcome with feelings of not only dread for the inevitable dangers that face the place, but also the joys in realizing one's ultimate dream. From the moment he witness a flying seagull, we realize that land is close. From the moment he tries to hail fisherman below him to ask if the country of Ireland is nearby, we appreciate the humor as lighthearted measures in asking for directions. When he finally succumbs to sleepiness and conks out, we shudder at the sight of the plane flying off course and out of control, and then immediately breathe a sigh of relief when he regains his consciousness and perspective. The overhead shots of the lights of Paris are the physical signs of victory for not only Charles Lindbergh, but for the two hundred thousand French people who cheer his successful arrival and for the four million people of New York City who will honor him as a national hero with a ticker tape parade.

While not received too well in 1957, it impossible not to recognize now that THE SPIRIT OF ST. LOUIS deserves praise for not only a solid performance by a legendary actor like James Stewart (my favorite classic actor, by the way), but for Billy Wilder's ability to create a sense of suspense, tension, adventure and excitement in one man's spiritual determination to make history at a time when the 20th Century was still relatively new and the possibilities for man's historic achievements were still limitless. In fact, when I watch a film like this (or THE RIGHT STUFF, too, for that matter), I cannot help but become very cynical in my attitude toward human achievement in the 21st Century. What have we done? Where have we gone? What are we likely to do in the near future? If the answer to these important questions is merely the latest and greatest versions of the Apple iPhone and the money that phone addicts are willing to spend on it, then I fear we have no real future to look forward to. Sad!

Favorite line or dialogue:

Charles Lindbergh: "Did you wait in the rain all night?"
Girl: "Yes."
Charles: "Are you from New York?"
Girl: "No."
Charles: "Long Island?"
Girl: "No. I'm from Philadelphia."
Charles: "You came all the way from Philadelphia?"
Girl: "I had to. You needed my mirror."

SPIDER-MAN

(May 2002, U.S.)

Fifteen years - six Spider-Man movies. To those die hard fans who crave this stuff crammed down their throat every summer and holiday season, it may not seem like a lot. For me, the less-than-average fan of comic book heroes, Sam Raimi's original film that kicked it all off has been more than enough. It's not just because it's the best of the lot, in my opinion, but it's also timing and history that places the film in a high position of significance. SPIDER-MAN was the first comic book hero film to be released in movie theaters following the horrific events of September 11th just seven and a half months prior. It is virtually impossible for me to watch this film without deep reflection of not only New York City at that time, but my own feelings and memories as a city resident at that time. Hence, my post today of SPIDER-MAN is not just an interpretation of a beloved comic book hero film, but a tale of 9/11, as well.

The film was practically a tribute to the Twin Towers from the moment fans witnessed the first teaser movie poster featuring the city skyline's two towers reflected in the web slinger's huge eyes...

That poster was subsequently recalled by Sony following the terrorist attacks. The film's original teaser trailer ends with Spider-Man trapping the bad guys into a gigantic web spun between the World Trade Center towers. That trailer was also pulled after the attacks. Finally, any scenes of the towers that were filmed in 2001 were digitally removed from the final print following the attacks. However, despite Hollywood's best effort to sensitively protect its audience from any painful reminders of our worst day, the entire feel of Sam Raimi's film is still a film of New York City and the evil that dwells inside it...and ultimately the hero we need to fight it (but I'll get into further in a little while).

If you ever read the comic books or religiously followed the animated TV series that ran from 1967 to 1970 (as I did in re-runs), then you know very well the story of high school student and social outcast Peter Parker (played in the first three films by Toby Maguire) and how he came to develop superhuman spider powers following a bite from a genetically-engineered "super spider" (at least that's how it happens in the film). Peter's also in love with neighbor and fellow student Mary Jane Watson (played by Kirsten Dunst). One fateful day, while trying to win money at a wrestling match to buy a car to impress Mary, Peter allows a dangerous thief to escape capture. This same thief will later kill Peter's Uncle Ben (played by the late Cliff Robertson) during a car jacking. Guilt-ridden and now in the famous costume we all know so well, Peter takes on the role and responsibility (because "with great power comes great responsibility") of our friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man. But while he's a doer of good deeds and fighting injustice, it's the head of the Daily Bugle's J. Jonah Jameson (played by J.K. Simmons) who's convinced that Spider-Man is a menace, even as he hires Peter as the only freelance photographer who can manage to ever get a clear picture of the web crawler (oh, the irony of it all!). As a rescuer of the sweet damsel in distress, he manages to save Mary Jane three times. So it's no wonder that's she inevitably falls in love with her unknown hero who's also in love with her when he's just Peter (oh, the total irony of it all!). And to be perfectly honest, I'd be less than a truthful horny, heterosexual male if I didn't confess that Kirsten looks amazing in the rain-soaked street scene with her wet nipples poking through her blouse, just before the famous upside-down smooch...

Spider-Man's arch enemy in this first film is the Green Goblin, who's the insanely powerful brainchild of billionaire Norman Osborn (played chillingly by Willem Dafoe). Unaware of Peter's true identity, he also sees himself as his father figure, practically ignoring his own son Harry (played by James Franco). Such personal affections don't count for much when good must ultimately fight evil in the face of great danger and peril. During an attack on the Roosevelt Island Tram car (that car was also the scene of a hostage situation in Sylvester Stallone's 1981 cop film NIGHTHAWKS), Spider-Man is forced to choose between saving Mary Jane or the poor children in the Tram car (he saves both, of course!). In the end, Green Goblin is defeated, Norman Osborn is killed, Harry swears revenge against Spider-Man, love is revealed and rejected, and the stage is set for the future heroics and responsibility of the amazing Spider-Man. Whether or not you consider his adventures any good after this one is strictly up to your own cinematic opinions and tastes. For myself, Spider-Man's screen time ends for me after Raimi's first film. Despite it's popularity, SPIDER-MAN 2 did nothing for me. Everything that has followed since hasn't been worth my time.

I'd like to return now to the tone of 9/11 that absorbs this film. As previously mentioned, the filmmakers do their best to shield us of any reminders that once existed with the World Trade Center towers. Still, we cannot ignore that this is still New York City, and it's far from ever being a paradise on Earth. The city is filled with danger and with evil, and the actions of such evil still comes in the form of violence, of acts of terror, of explosions and of innocent lives damaged. Any comic book super hero film will boldly shove those hard facts in our face. But it's the realization and understanding of SPIDER-MAN as a heroic film that follows a real-life event of tragedy that reminds us of how much we hold dear our heroes of action and justice...even if those heroes are fiction.

That in mind, I'd like to conclude with a piece of Spider-Man history that I've always considered very moving and poignant for our time. In December 2001, Marvel Comics released the Amazing Spider-Man, Volume 2, Issue #36 - "Stand Tall", a 9/11 tribute comic book with an all black cover. The story focuses on Spider-Man (as well as other Marvel heroes and villains) coping with the devastation and sorrow following the terrorist attacks. Despite it being a work of fictional characters that do not exist in our real lives, one cannot help but reflect on the themes behind the true evil we live with and the heroes we depend on that do exist in our lives, primarily the great first responders of the city. Still, it's impossible not to fantasize of what we wish existed in our life. Spider-Man, Superman, Captain America and any other beloved character we grew up with are ideas many of us can't help but cling to in times of horrible crisis, despite their being merely imaginary.

There are two images from the comic book that speak wonders for me in their effort to help us connect with the myth of the comic book hero and those who so desperately need him. The first is Spider-Man staring in horror at the ground's devastation following the tower's collapse...

Even as our great hero is horrified at what he's witnessed, he speaks to us by reminding us that "Only madmen could contain the thought, execute the act, fly the planes. The sane world will always be vulnerable to madmen, because we cannot go where they go to conceive of such things. We could not see it coming. We could not be here before it happened. We could not stop it. But we are here now. You cannot see us for the dust, but we are here. You cannot hear us for the cries, but we are here."

The second image is the cries of desperation from innocent people who are running for their lives from the cataclysmic collapse of the towers as they beg for understanding from Spider-Man when they ask him, "Where were you? How could you let this happen?"...

We are reading nothing more than a comic book, but how can we not ask somewhere deep down in our own minds and hearts how such an evil deed could possibly happen to us and why wasn't there a hero to stop it from happening in the first place? These are haunting questions that are likely to never be answered, but I applaud Marvel Comics for just one brief moment, in trying to artistically express those feelings of fear and confusion by reminding us of legendary heroes of good and justice like the amazing Spider-Man.

Always remember September 11, 2001.

Favorite line or dialogue:

Wrestling Promoter (after Peter allows a thief to escape with cash): "You coulda taken that guy apart! Now he's gonna get away with my money!"
Peter Parker: "I missed the part where that's my problem!"

SPHERE

(February 1998, U.S.)

It's interesting to think that Spielberg's JURASSIC PARK (1993) kicked off the 1990's as the decade of Michael Crichton-novel-turned-movies (thought he also made a name for himself as a director in the '70s of films like WESTWORLD and COMA). I think I saw every one of them, including crap like CONGO (1995). But more than just another Crichton literary thriller, SPHERE reminds me that among his versatilities, director Barry Levinson proves he can put together not only an effective sci-fi thriller, but an interesting think-piece, as well. It's also the last film, in my opinion, that really stood out for me regarding Barry's impressive career (despite the initial negative reviews by critics). Everything that followed SPHERE just never worked for me.

When you're watching SPHERE, I suppose having a fondness for James Cameron's THE ABYSS (1989) doesn't hurt to start you off in the right direction. Once again, there's something mysterious going on at the deepest depths of the ocean floor. An alien spacecraft has been discovered and the immediate analysis by every sought-out intelligent expert (including Dustin Hoffman as a psychologist who once wrote a report under the Bush Sr. administration on what should be done in the event of an extraterrestrial visit to Earth) is that the ship is three hundred years-old. Other experts include Samuel L. Jackson, Liev Schreiber and Sharon Stone (sorry - she keeps all her clothes on in this one!) under the command of the hard-as-nails U.S. Navy Captain (played by Peter Coyote, whom, if you haven't forgotten his role in E.T. THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL, seems perfectly suitable for roles involving men in charge of alien life investigations). Everyone is assembled to an underwater "dormitory" called the Habitat; a state-of-the-art living facility located near the mysterious spacecraft. Turns out, however, that we're not dealing with aliens, but rather Earth people from the United States of the future, who somehow fell into a black hole once-upon-a-time and traveled back in time three hundred years and ended up underwater in our own present day of the late '90s.

(you following all of this, so far?)

The technology of our future far surpasses anything we have now. The computer aboard reveals an "unknown entry event" that took place and the logic of our on-board scientists leads us to believe that none will survive this mission since it appears evident that the events we're witnessing were never revealed to the world, thus documented as an "unknown entry event".

(you still with me?)

As the intensity of the ship, the perfect spherical ball of golden fluid that hovers not far from the ship, and its inexplicable effect on the crew become more evident and more lethal, we come to the learn and understand the concept of time travel, reality, dreams, and the ability of our deep-rooted "monsters from the Id" (remember FORBIDDEN PLANET?) to manifest our fears and nightmares into reality, including killer jellyfish, aggressive squids, poisonous snakes, a fire that nearly destroys the entire ship, and a temperamental computer entity who calls himself "Jerry". Actually, learning about "Jerry" is a funny moment when the crew concludes that the alien intelligence controlling "Jerry" must be an idiot. They even conclude among themselves, "Why not a stupid alien?" As they desperately wait to be rescued from above, the three remaining crew members (Hoffman, Stone and Jackson) come to realize their manifestations and their fears. They all conclude that they each entered the sphere, which gave them their supernatural abilities. But it's also the realization of these abilities that will save them in the end. Once they've managed to escape a cataclysmic explosion in a mini-sub, they conclude (I've used that word quite a bit, haven't I) that the only way to keep their powers out of the wrong hands (including their own) is to simply choose to forget everything that happened to them throughout the entire film, thus assuring the true meaning behind the paradox of the "unknown entry event".

Okay, so the critics didn't like SPHERE. Fuck them! Okay, so it's a sci-fi think piece, though not necessarily at the same thinking level as, say, 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY, SOLARIS or even DUNE. Still, I believe that the art of science fiction in film has to be embraced beyond the United Federation of Planets or a galaxy far, far away. Crichton's story challenges us to not only consider the possibilities of our future, but also the human flaws of our present. Dustin Hoffman concludes the film by citing that we're not ready to handle such alien powers, whether considered a gift or a curse. He's likely right. But I suppose if you take the negative criticism of audiences and film critics who chose not to embrace Barry Levinson's one attempt at sci-fi to heart, then clearly, the average Friday night multiplex moviegoer isn't ready for anything that requires too much thought or imagination, either. Fuck them, too!

Favorite line or dialogue:

Dr. Harry Adams: "We're all gonna die down here."
Norman Goodman: "What?"
Harry: "You see? It's curious. Ted did figure it out; time travel, and when we get back, we gonna tell everyone. How it's possible, how it's done, what the dangers are. But then why fifty years in the future when the spacecraft encounters a black hole does the computer call it an 'unknown entry event'? Why don't they know? If they don't know, that means we never told anyone. And if we never told anyone, it means we never made it back. Hence, we die down here. Just as a matter of deductive logic."

SPELLBOUND

(October 1945, U.S.)

Alfred Hitchcock was considered the master of suspense. He wasn't perfect, though, in my opinion. Even the great "masters" have their flaws. SPELLBOUND is far from flawless. In fact, as I sat down to watch it last night for the first time in years for the purpose of writing this post, I slowly piled up in my brain, everything about the film that was irritating me. To begin with, its intent on addressing the professional practices of psychiatry and psychoanalysis feels considerably overdone and overblown at times. Yes, we get it, Hitch - you were fascinated by the insights into the human mind and what made it "tick", so to say. You overstretch its point, in my opinion. Then there's what I consider a real negative stretch for such a gifted actor as Gregory Peck in which he overdoes the catatonic bit of his amnesiac mental state and his repeated aggressive outbursts and fainting dizzy spells. In fact, if one were to over-analyze SPELLBOUND, it may easily be accused of passing itself off as nothing greater than a full-length documentary on psychoanalysis starring two of the biggest movie stars of the era. In short, this Hitchcock film comes very close to fall on its ass compared to such other great masterpieces that came later by the great master!

So, why, you may ask am I here even discussing it if I'm starting things off with such negative feelings? Well, it's Hitchcock, for starters, and that means always giving everything he did a fair chance. There's also a fine and surprising resolution at the film's end, which manages to save it all, but I'll get into that later. From the moment the opening credits gives its audience some insight into the profession and practices of psychiatry, we're immediately introduced to a Vermont mental hospital called Green Manors where its patients and their "problems" are portrayed with a certain degree of resistance. Remember, this is the 1940s, so the level of violence from mental illness is bound to be restrained on screen. We have a woman who's your basic man hater and a man who appears to be afraid of his own shadow as he's convinced he killed his own father. Dr. Constance Peterson (played by Ingrid Bergman) is a rather emotionless and detached psychoanalyst who, while not believing in the concept of the emotions behind falling in love, manages to fall head-over-heels for Dr. Anthony Edwards (played by Gregory Peck) when he arrives at Green Manors to replace its former director, Dr. Murchison (played by Leo G. Carroll, a frequent Hitchcock performer), who is being forced into retirement after a mild breakdown of his own. Constance is in love now, but her new male fancy may not be what he seems. First, he may not actually be Dr. Edwards, but rather the man who murdered Dr. Edwards and then assumed his identity to hide any guilt complex he may be experiencing following the crime.

(you following all of this, so far?)

Second, the good doctor suffers from a bizarre phobia about parallel lines against white backgrounds (???). Through her own investigation into his handwriting, Constance soon realizes that her new love interest is not who he pretends to be and is in need of help. Of course, in real life, most women would run for their lives from a potentially dangerous man they've only known a few days. But this is Hollywood and it's Ingrid Bergman - you know, the woman who always seems to stand by her man in nearly every film she does - so we know the young doctor in love is going to stand by this man, too, and try to help cure him of his amnesia, his phobias and his unknown demons because she believes him to be innocent of any crimes. Now we get to watch the patient on the couch, the shrink with the glasses and the notepad, and the detailed interpretations of Peck's surrealistic dream, courtesy of none other than artist Salvador Dalí himself...

Is the fake Dr. Edwards psychotic, schizophrenic, amnesiac, homicidal...or just in need of some good 'ol fashioned couch time? We're trying to find out as we watch Constance not only try to get to the heart of her lover's mind, but also evade the police with him, as well. In the end, we learn that the fake Dr. Edward's mental state and guilt complex is ultimately linked to an incident from his childhood when he accidentally killed his brother. But that's not the end of the story, nor the big revelation that saves SPELLBOUND in the end. We still have the body of the real Dr. Edwards that was discovered on a ski mountain to contain a bullet in its back. Somebody shot him, but who? Looks like it was Peck and it looks like he's going to get the chair for it. Ah, but things are (thankfully) never that neat and tidy in a Hitchcock mystery. Remember the director of Green Manors who was forced into retirement due to his own breakdown? Turns out he was on the ski mountain with a gun the day the real Dr. Edwards fell over a treacherous cliff and Gregory Peck "took the fall" for it. Constance is not only a great psychiatrist, but a pretty talented detective, too. So, in the end, Peck is miraculously healed, seemingly without any leftover trace of the psychosis that ailed him, and he now gets to live happily-ever-after and sleep with Ingrid Bergman. That's Hollywood, my friends!

Favorite line or dialogue:

Dr. Murchison (pointing a gun at Constance): "You're an excellent analyst, Dr. Peterson, but a rather stupid woman."

SPEED

(June 1994, U.S.)

In a strange way, SPEED is a challenging film to write about. There's nothing thought-provoking or culturally-significant about it, it doesn't feature any major stars and its director was someone we'd never heard of before (at the time). It was simply one of those effortless summer blockbusters that one could kill just over two hours with (in as summer that didn't offer too much more except FORREST GUMP and TRUE LIES). For myself, it was one of those days I'd set aside to do a little multiplex movie hopping (I think I saw THE CROW and BEVERLY HILLS COP III on that same day). Keanu Reeves was still a mystery to me, despite having seen him recently in POINT BREAK (1991) and DRACULA (1992) and I think the name Sandra Bullock meant nothing to me. I suppose my real, if only, incentive to see SPEED was the thought of Dennis Hopper playing a crazed bomber and extortionist. If you'd seen him in David Lynch's BLUE VELVET (1986), then you knew just how evil the man could be on screen.

As LAPD SWAT officer Jack Traven, Keanu Reeves is just about as attractive and hunky as any firefighter calendar page, if that's your thing. He and his partner Harry Temple (played by Jeff Daniels) defeat an attempt by the mad bomber (Hopper) of holding an elevator full of helpless people for a ransom. After an explosion, we supposed to think (even for a short time) that our bad guy is dead and gone. Hardly. A short time later, Jack watches a bus explode on the street. Only minutes after that, he learns that our bomber has planted a similar device aboard another Los Angeles bus and it's set to arm itself once the bus reaches fifty miles per hour. After that, the bomb will explode if the bus' speed drops below fifty miles per hour. The bomber is watching. If anyone tries to get off the bus, he'll detonate it. If he doesn't get his $3.7 million dollar ransom in three hours, he'll detonate it (sounds like those aboard the bus are fucked!). Boarding the bus himself, Jack takes on the immediate role of hero to try and keep things calm. When the bus driver is accidentally shot, passenger Annie (Bullock) takes over the wheel, and quite frankly, does her absolute best at trying to be as "cute" as possible while operating a large vehicle she has absolutely no experience with. Still, what does it matter? Cute, little Annie manages to keep things under control, including a hard right turn that would normally turn a bus over and an accelerated leap across a huge gap in the highway that would've made Evel Knievel stand up and take notice.

Meanwhile, Harry identifies the bomber as Howard Payne, a retired Atlanta bomb squad officer with a local address and a very large chip on his shoulder. When he and the SWAT team ascend on his house, we soon learn (if not predict) that the house is rigged with explosives and the blast kills Harry and most of the SWAT team. Back on the bus, Jack soon realizes that the bus has a planted camera inside and Howard has been watching them the entire time. Through a little bit of media camera magic, a looped tape is created giving the passengers the time they need to escape the bus. The empty bus slows down below 50 mph and explodes. Actually, to be completely and enthusiastically fair, the explosion is one of the best and most cataclysmic I've ever seen on film. We've known (or at least suspected) that the bus would finally explode in the end, and it's no disappointment. Earlier, we hear Jack tell Harry that there's enough C-4 explosives aboard to "put a hole in the world". He was right, and we can't help but love it!

As we may expect in any high octane action movie, the excitement doesn't end until our bad guy is caught or dead. This happens on board a speeding, runaway subway car with Jack and Annie trapped inside. But don't worry - they'll survive and they'll decide that they love each other (or at least want to have sex with each other!) by the time it's all over. You see - even when lives and property are at stake, Hollywood knows just how to happily end things on the streets of Hollywood Boulevard in front of Mann's Chinese Theatre showing a revival of 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (wish I'd seen it on that screen!).

Action films are very often a genre, and nothing more. If they're done right, with some degree of wit, intelligence and credible performances, they can become something more. While I'm not saying that SPEED perfectly achieves this in every way or comes close to action material that surpassed a decade or so later, like THE DARK KNIGHT, it certainly outdoes itself above much of the Stallone and Scwarzenegger crap we had to contend with in the 1980s. Reeves and Bullock have a good chemistry that managed to make them famous and Hopper, while being no Frank Booth, doesn't disappoint as the crazed, diabolical and even colorful madman. It all comes together to offer the dazzling and exhilarating escapism that SPEED is meant to be, and not much more. Or perhaps, if we take the time to think about it in a post 9/11 world, we may think twice before boarding that bus again...maybe (I just hope Sandra Bullock isn't driving it!).

Favorite line or dialogue:

Howard Payne: "See, I'm in charge here! I drop this stick, and they pick your friend here up with a sponge! Are you ready to die, friend?"
Harry Temple: "Fuck you!"
Howard: "Oh, in two hundred years we've gone from, "I regret but I have one life to give for my country" to "Fuck you!"