REBECCA

(April 1940, U.S.)

First REAR WINDOW and now REBECCA! Oh man, how I do love these little coincidences that manage to create double features on my blog! This film, based on Daphne du Maurier's 1938 novel, was Alfred Hitchcock's first one to be made in America. It's a glorious black and white gothic tale of the psychological and mysterious elements of one's past continuing to haunt them. And as is the case with most Hitchcock material, it's also a fine love story. One of, if not the key element of psychological intrigue in this film is that we never get to see the character of Rebecca de Winter because she's already died before the story even really starts. Brooding aristocratic widower Maxim de Winter (played by Lawrence Olivier) is clearly haunted by his wife's passing, but we're not entirely sure why. We also don't know how she died. Clearly, though, her passing and even just the mere mention of her name has left a mark not only on the widower and the entire domestic staff at his home of the English country mansion Manderley, but particularly with his new naïve second wife (played by Joan Fontaine, whose character name, by the way, is never mentioned in the film. She's simply known as the second Mrs. de Winter) who must not only deal with the memory and reputation of the dead first wife, but also with Manderley's rather creepy head housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers (played by Judith Anderson), who appeared to have absolutely adored Rebecca. Mrs. Danvers is cold, domineering and completely obsessed with the beauty, intelligence and sophistication of the eponymous first Mrs. de Winter, preserving her former bedroom as a shrine. Did I say she adored Rebecca? Adored, my ass! Although the subject of lesbianism was still considered a screen taboo in 1940, it's pretty damn obvious that Mrs. Danvers was in love with Rebecca (Daphne du Maurier was rumored to be bisexual, so the idea is not totally without merit)!

Rebecca's presence and intimidation, even from the grave, is apparent and obvious throughout Manderley. The fact that her presence is also so highly protected by the icy Mrs. Danvers makes it all the more chilling because there's nothing more challenging than to try and survive than the memory of the dead. The second Mrs. de Winter longs to belong not only to Manderley and its servants, but also longs to be the perfect wife she imagines she should be to her new husband. As the stress of belonging and the mystery of who Rebecca was and what happened to her in the end progresses throughout the film, the second wife is nearly pushed over the mental and psychological edge by Mrs. Danvers. In a particularly haunting scene, Mrs. Danvers is hardly shy about urging the second wife to jump to her death in the sea below, citing that there's really no viable reason for her to remain at Manderley or to even live, for that matter. As mentioned, there's no quiet subtlety in this action. Mrs. Danvers stalks and hovers over the second wife with piercing eyes and the strongest of will...

This bitch is definitely not someone I want working for me in my house! Still, however, we must remember that this is still a Hitchcock mystery and despite any early indications of weakness and frailty, the so-called victim eventually rises to the occasion, so to say, and not only finds a way to defend herself against the wicked housekeeper, but to also uncover the truth of Rebecca. The truth, as an element of intricate plotting, is actually far more astonishing than you might imagine. The truth, as we're meant to understand it, is that Maxim de Winter absolutely hated his wife (for specific reasons, please watch the film!)! And while it appears he had good reasons to want to murder her (he is suspected of such for a while), Rebecca's death was the result of her own hand when she learned she suffered from a terminal cancer. The film attempts to conclude itself with a sense of resolve, absolution and the triumph of love, but I'm afraid we're not let off the hook that easily. In what I can only describe as a vivid and even frightening image in black and white, we finally watch the great house of Manderley burn to the ground at the hands of the crazed Mrs. Danvers in a scathing inferno that lights up the entire night sky...

This burning house actually sets the stage for the film at the very beginning because we're first introduced to the story in the idea of the second Mrs. de Winter's dream of the once great Manderley, now a smoldering ruin of ashes and rubble..."Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again."

REBECCA won the Oscar for best picture of 1940. Not bad for Hitchcock's first American film!

Favorite line or dialogue:

Mrs. Danvers (speaking of the first Mrs. de Winter) "You wouldn't think she'd been gone so long, would you? Sometimes, when I walk along the corridor, I fancy I hear her just behind me. That quick light step. I couldn't mistake it anywhere. It's not only in this room, it's in all the rooms in the house. I can almost hear it now. Do you think the dead come back and watch the living?"
Second Mrs. de Winter (crying): "N-no, I don't believe it."
Mrs. Danvers: "Sometimes, I wonder if she doesn't come back here to Manderley, to watch you and Mr. de Winter together. You look tired. Why don't you stay here a while and rest, and listen to the sea. It's so soothing. Listen...listen to the sea."

REAR WINDOW

(September 1954, U.S.)

Were the great Alfred Hitchcock alive and well today in the digital age of the 21st Century, what would he have thought of society's fascination with looking into the lives of others? In his film REAR WINDOW, Thelma Ritter says to James Stewart that, "We've all become a race of peeping Toms!", and this was the year 1954, when technology was hardly off of the ground. In the film, the hero L.B. Jefferies (Stewart), while confined to wheelchair nursing a broken leg, passes his days away by staring out his Greenwich Village apartment rear window at the neighbors, sometimes with binoculars and sometimes even with the long zoom lens of his camera. Just imagine what Hitchcock would have thought of us today, with our obsessive capabilities of looking into the lives of others through video surveillance, YouTube, video chatting, social media, etc. He would have either been absolutely fascinated or totally sickened (as I often am!)! He might have come to the psychological conclusion that the average person is either bored or unsatisfied with their own life and must try and compensate such personal issues by peeking into the lives of others, particularly if the others are unaware they're being watched. Again, Jefferies is physically confined to just one room and can't do much else with himself, so perhaps that exonerates him from his voyeuristic behavior (what's our excuse??).

And so, as we take stock of the neighbors that Jefferies watches, we have a pretty, blonde ballet dancer with a nice ass, a female sculptor, a pair of newlyweds who have the curtain drawn the entire time, a bachelor composer, an older woman longing for love and companionship (Jefferies nicknames her "Miss Lonelyhearts"), an older couple with a dog who like to sleep outdoors on their fire escape during the summer heat, and finally, Mr. Lars Thorwald (played by Raymond Burr), a traveling jewelry salesman with a nagging, bedridden wife. During Jefferies's confinement, it would seem that these people are his only solace (other than the insurance company nurse Stella), that is, until we're introduced to his socialite girlfriend Lisa (played by the absolutely beautiful Grace Kelly) who we first see in a camera shot that is done in slow motion and in an almost dreamlike state as she leans in to kiss Jefferies...

She's very real, though. She's beautiful, exotic, successful, and somewhat spoiled by her high society persona. Unlike Jefferies, whose profession of magazine photographer has sent him to some of the harshest places in the world and has also given him a rough, somewhat undignified disposition. On paper, the two of them have about as much in common as my own parents did - which is very little! When he's with her, we can tell he's enchanted by her, despite their very different worlds. Still, by the end of their first evening together, we're brought down to the reality of their relationship as it appears they'll never be able compromise their own lifestyle beliefs in order to be together. When Lisa leaves Jefferies alone for the night, the mystery of REAR WINDOW finally begins when he hears a woman scream and the sound of glass breaking. Jefferies stays awake all night and the next day watching his neighbor Thorwald through his camera and this is what he sees - repeated trips in the middle of the night in the pouring rain and thunder, knives and saws being nearly wrapped up in newspaper, a trunk tied with rope, jewelry from a handbag and the nagging, bedridden wife who's no longer there! In fact, it's during this sequence of watching that there's the first of two great visual moments in the film that I never forget. In this first one, just look closely at Jefferies' eyes while looking through his camera and then watch them slowly shift to our right...

This is the exact moment, through the movement of his eyes, that Jefferies realizes the horrific act of murder may have occurred during the night just across the courtyard, and in his own way, he's become a party to it. At this moment, simple voyeurism has become obsession because Jefferies is convinced he's right about everything he suspects, even though he can't prove a single part of it. While his nurse Stella (Ritter) appears to be on his side, Lisa and his detective friend Tom Doyle (played by Wendell Corey) think he's imagining the impossible. In fact, Lisa paints a very reasonable argument to Jefferies, stating that any sane, intelligent man who plans to murder his wife wouldn't be stupid enough to parade the crime in front of an open window for all to possibly see. Sounds reasonable, of course, but the argument is only momentary. In what I consider to be the second great visual moment of the film, stare closely at Lisa's face while she's making this argument and you'll see a sudden change in her expression...

In that single moment, even though we haven't yet seen what it is she's looking at, we know very well that something has changed about her argument and that she's about to cross over into Jefferies' world of intrigue and mystery. In this one moment, Lisa can now join Jefferies on his level, and this may be all the two of them need to make their confused relationship work. As they dive deeper into the mystery of Lars Thorwald and "did he?" or "didn't he?", we can see Jefferies' attitude toward his girlfriend change over time. Impatience and resentment are replaced with sincere love and admiration as the two of them are finally able to share an experience together on an equal level of common ground. Lisa, who started out in defiance of the entire matter, is even now more motivated to learn the truth than Jefferies (perhaps this is because she has two good legs!) as she even goes so far as to get into Thorwald's apartment when he's out to discover that his missing wife's wedding ring has been left behind, and its this ring that may be the only real evidence that will finally nail Thorwald! Of course, as is with just about any crime story, the guilty are caught and punished, and the heroes are triumphant in their deeds and get to live happily ever after (even if it means two broken legs!).

REAR WINDOW is, without a doubt, one of Hitchcock's finest films, only third to PSYCHO (1960) and THE BIRDS (1963), in my opinion. It's a simple, and yet very strange, tale of a slice of life in a small neighborhood in New York City (despite being completely shot at the Paramount Studios in Hollywood, California). Simple as it may or may not be, however, it's one of Hitchcock's most psychologically-charged films that explores the obsessive level of human nature and how people perceive the lives of others around them from the outside, looking in. As viewers ourselves, we're effortlessly drawn into the film not only as fans of Hitchcock's work, but as curious beings allowing ourselves to be trapped in a world where the act of spying into the lives of others is not only wickedly fun, but even essential to solving a murder. And despite the great dialogue and performances from all who participate in this film, REAR WINDOW is ultimately about looking...looking for ourselves and looking alongside James Stewart so we can fully understand and appreciate what's taking place before us and perhaps even share some of the guilt and terror of the consequences of seeing things that we were never meant to see.

In 1997, there was a TV remake of REAR WINDOW, which starred the late Christopher Reeve and Daryl Hannah. I watched it because I found the concept of using Reeve, who was confined to a wheelchair in real life due to his paralysis, fascinating. Somehow, using Reeve and his condition just made sense for a modern remake of such a story. Unfortunately, as with any film that attempts to remake Hitchcock, it didn't work for me. In the world of film, one should simply never try to remake the "Master of Suspense" (you listening, Gus Van Sant??)!

Now a quick personal story for you. Sometime during the very late 1990s, just before the digital technology of the world we live in now truly allowed us to look into the lives of others, I was living in a small apartment on East 86th Street in Manhattan. It was a quiet Saturday night during the winter and I was sitting at the eating table which faced the apartment building across the street. Without even giving it much thought, I found myself getting my binoculars to see what I could see. After doing some scanning, I focused on the bedroom of an apartment across the way. And while I wish I could tell you I got to watch something juicy or scandalous, all I really got to see was a married couple going to bed for the night. Still, I couldn't help but be fascinated at how I could actually watch these people and what they were doing without them being aware of it. As Stewart mentions in the film, there's an issue of ethics to such actions, but at the same time, his neighbors could also do it to him if they wanted to, as could my own. Anyway, I never did it again after that one. Truth be told, it wasn't that interesting or even that much fun.

Favorite line or dialogue:

Lisa Fremont (to Jefferies): "Tell me exactly what you saw...and what you think it means."

READER, THE

(December 2008, U.S.)

THE READER, based on the 1995 German semi-autobiographical best seller by Bernhard Schlink (I haven't read it), is a thought-provoking wartime, romantic drama to be taken with a respectable degree of seriousness and integrity. So you'll kindly forgive me for starting out my post by cheapening it somewhat by first mentioning that Kate Winslet appears naked in the film; not just briefly, but for some extended moments...

Sorry, but I'm a guy...and as a guy with strong heterosexual tendencies, I enjoy my more-than-fair share of tits and ass whenever I can get it...particularly if it's Kate Winslet, who, in my opinion, has still got it!

Okay, so now back to serious cinema! THE READER might have easily slipped past me if my mother in-law had not sung its praises when she saw it in the theater almost eight years ago. I was prepared for merely a simple love story between older woman and younger man, but what I got was a much more surprising tale of intrigue and twists. The film tells the story of Michael Berg (played by Ralph Fiennes as an adult), a German lawyer who as a teenager in the 1950s had an affair with Hannah Schmitz (Winslet), a train conductor who helped him home one day when he's sick. Upon his recovery from Scarlet Fever, he visits her where he's immediately seduced by her and they begin their summer long affair. While she appears to be in it for the excitement of just getting laid, he seeks a more emotional connection with her. They eventually find that connection in books when she asks him to read to her whenever they're finished making love. However, just when we may think things may get more serious between the two of them, she abruptly leaves town upon learning of her promotion at work withing informing Michael.

Cut to years later when Michael is attending law school. As part of a class seminar, the students observe a trial of several German women accused of letting hundreds of Jewish women die in a burning church when they were Nazi SS guards of a concentration camp near Krakow. We are stunned to learn that Michael's beloved and long-lost Hanna is one of those defendants. This is a startling revelation, to be sure, but it only seems to scratch the surface of Hannah's secrets. Through the course of the trial, we come to realize that Hannah is illiterate and grossly ashamed of that fact. As a result, rather than confess her illiteracy, she chooses to take the burden of the accusations by claiming she was primarily responsible for generating a report that ultimately condemned the Jewish women to death; something we know cannot be true because she cannot read and write. Although she is a former Nazi and deserves the burdens of justice, their is a strong consumption of irony present in us (and Michael) knowing of her situation and that she cannot possibly be fully blamed for what happened. Still, secrets are often kept hidden deep enough to affect outcomes in storytelling, and it's this secret that will send Hannah to prison for decades while the other women merely get a slap on the wrist with only a few years in prison. The ironic twist of THE READER is relatively simple here, and yet it's strong enough to have us scratching our heads and wondering how it can ultimately affect so many lives; Michael's, as well as Hanna's. We even ask ourselves how we, as the viewer, managed to miss all the hints and clues given to us throughout the film, i.e. Hannah refusing to read from Michael's books, the lost look on her face when confronted with a lunch menu, etc.

As a man forever changed (and perhaps even scarred) by his involvement with Hannah, Michael struggles not only with the actions of her past, but with his own soul and how he's been unable to open up to those he loves ever since knowing Hannah. As a man of compassion, he longs to help Hannah in her later prison years by sending her tapes he's recorded of every book he owns, which she, in turn, uses to teach herself to read. Yet despite his empathy for her, he cannot bring himself to reconnect with her on a level of commitment when she's finally due to be released from prison and will require someone to take responsibility for her. We know he'll always have a special connection with, but cannot allow her into his life because of her crimes against humanity. This decision results in a tragic end for Hannah (which I won't give away now). Tragic, or not, we are constantly meant to remind ourselves that she was a member of the Nazi Party, and such compassion for those people are extremely limited, at best.

THE READER is a highly engrossing and deeply emotional experience of not only a disturbing tale of the Holocaust and its horrors, but also fills us with a certain degree of pity that demands our attention, whether it feels justified or not. Kate Winslet can only be praised for an outstanding, powerful performance of a woman who, despite her destiny of punishment, we've also come to appreciate and possibly understand her fears and anxieties of illiteracy. Whether such understanding is deserved or even seems valid is entirely up to the viewer. Ralph Fiennes, though quiet and reserved, express the sorrows and regrets of his past with perfection. David Kross as a young Michael is a purely sympathetic character of teenage angst and confusion over love, sexual desire and the emotional connection to a woman, good or bad, who changed his life forever. And while SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE may have won the Oscar for best picture of 2008 (I didn't like it!), it should have been THE READER, in my opinion!

Favorite line or dialogue:

Michael Berg: "I didn't mean to upset you."
Hanna Schmitz: "You don't have the power to upset me! You don't matter enough to upset me!"

RAY

(October 2004, U.S.)

The closest I ever came to being a fan of Ray Charles was on only two movie occasions. The first is Ray's cameo in THE BLUES BROTHERS (1980) and his performance with John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd. The second is the hilarious moment in PLANES, TRAINS & AUTOMOBILES (1987) when John Candy is driving in the middle of the night and seriously getting into Ray's "Mess Around", which nearly results in a fatal auto accident (really, how can anyone not think of John Candy when listening to this song?)...

That in mind, one has to wonder just how interested can one be in a film biography of an artist you're not particularly into in the first place? Well, first there's the reputable film career of director Taylor Hackford that includes great films like AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN (1982) and THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE (1997). Second, Jamie Foxx. One only need watch the original trailer for RAY to see that Foxx nails it cold! So whether you're a fan of the music of Ray Charles or not, to simply watch Foxx take the character to extraordinary cinematic limits is worth the price of your time and a ticket.

To know Ray Charles well is likely to really only know his music and what it means to you. For a screen biop, we get to see his life as the child Ray Charles Robinson, raised on a sharecropping plantation in Florida and slowly going by the age of seven after witnessing his younger brother drown. Inspired by a fiercely independent mother who insisted he make his own way in the world and not be judged a cripple, Ray finds his gift and his calling at the keyboard of a piano. Like most successful artists, Ray has to pay his dues not only with the physical limitations of his blindness, but also the cheap, crooked characters that all to often corrupt artists and the world of show business. As time passes, Ray not only gains recognition and notoriety, but also develops an incorporation of rhythm and blues, rock and roll, gospel, country, jazz and orchestral influences into his unique style. As I suppose no true story about any famous musical artist is not complete without a healthy does of severe drug use and infamous womanizing (but then again, musicians do manage to get all the pussy!). Although the film only hints at two children, it seems the real Ray Charles had twelve children with nine different women (WOW!)! His addiction to heroin is made very clear in the film and one can only wonder how he managed to live to a somewhat ripe old age even after he gave up the junk. When we watch Ray the man, and not the musician, we see a tormented soul that cannot escape the horrors of watching his younger brother drown and ultimately feeling responsible for it. However, there is this one brilliant moment in the film when Ray experiences a dream in which he cannot only see, but is also forgiven by his brother and his mother for all the sins of his past. This is actually the moment where the film comes to a conclusion, as we're meant to understand that Ray Charles gave up his drug addiction upon having this disturbing dream. Whether or not it's true may almost seem inconsequential because the moment works so well on film, and as previously mention, Jamie Foxx brings it all home with amazing charisma.

One interesting fact that I learned about Ray Charles (according to the film, anyway) was his apparent refusal to play the state of Georgia or any other state that promoted segregating during the 1960s. For this act, Ray was actually banned from ever playing Georgia until the 1970s, when the act was not only rescinded, but also when his song, "Georgia On My Mind" became the official state song. I suppose all of the decades civil rights leaders would have been proud of that one!

Finally, since this was a posting of a film of a popular musical artist, let me dedicate this post to all the popular musical artists that have passed away in just the first month of this new year; they include Natalie Cole, David Bowie, Glenn Frey of the Eagles and Paul Kantner of Jefferson Airplane/Jefferson Starship. Thanks for all that you gave us!

Favorite line or dialogue:

Ray Charles: "You're the ones who taught me that making a record is business and find the best business deal that you can. Now seventy-five cents of every dollar and owning my own masters is a pretty damn good deal. Can you match it?"
Ahmet Ertegun: "Ray, we would love to match it, but we just can't. That's a better deal than Sinatra gets. I'm very proud of you."

RASHOMON

(December 1951, U.S.)

...and we return you now to the world of Akira Kurosawa and what is easily the best film of his career, in my opinion. It's best known for a plot device that involves various characters providing alternative, self-serving and contradictory versions of the same incident, and as a result of the film, inevitably derived the real life term known as the "rashomon effect". For the film's story, the conflicting accounts are of a rape and a murder by the hands of a notorious bandit. Even as the film opens, we're immediately made aware of a "strange story" as it will be told not by those who testified of its events at a local court tribune, but rather those few, including a local woodcutter and a priest, who were sitting in the background of the proceedings and who are now thrown together sitting beneath the Rajōmon city gate trying to stay dry during a torrential downpour. One must truly experience the film to fully appreciate the visual impact of the ongoing hard rain in this film, but here's a quick shot anyway to give you an idea of what I'm talking about...

And while RASHOMON is not necessarily a very complicated story, it does require the patience and close attention so as to effectively keep up with and understand each person's version of what happened on that fateful day in the forest.

And so, here it goes...

According to the bandit known as Tajōmaru , he claims that he tricked the samurai to step off the mountain trail with him, where he then tied the man to a tree and then brought the man's wife there to witness what he'd done to him. She initially tried to defend herself with a dagger, but was eventually seduced by the great bandit. The wife, filled with shame, begged him to duel to the death with her husband, to save her from the shame of having both men know her dishonor. Tajōmaru honorably set the samurai free and dueled with him, where they fought skillfully and fiercely, but in the end the bandit was victorious and the wife ran away from him.

According to the wife known as Machiko, she claims that Tajōmaru left after raping her. She begged her samurai husband to forgive her, but he simply looked at her with cold, loathing eyes. She freed and begged him to kill her so that she would be at peace from her shame, but he continued to stare at her with total unforgiveness. His expression disturbed her so much that she fainted with her dagger in hand. She awoke later to find her husband dead with the dagger in his chest. Presuming she had committed this murder, she attempted to kill herself, but failed.

(you following all of this so far?)

According to the samurai known as Masayuki (WAIT! According to the samurai?? He's supposed to be DEAD!), well, really, according to the spirit of the samurai as translated through a rather freaky looking and sounding medium, he claims that the bandit Tajōmaru, after raping his wife, asked her to run away with him. She accepted and asked Tajōmaru to kill her husband so that she would not feel the shame of belonging to both men. Tajōmaru, shocked by this request, gave the samurai a choice of letting the woman go or killing her. Interestingly, his immediate reply is, "For these words alone, I was ready to pardon his crime." The wife fled, and Tajōmaru, after attempting to recapture her, gave up and set the samurai free. The samurai then killed himself with his wife's dagger, which was then later removed from his chest by a stranger.

And finally, according to the woodcutter known as Kikori, he claims that he was actually there in the forest to witness the rape and murder, that the first three accounts are false and that he also chose not to get involved at the trial. According to his story, Tajōmaru begged the samurai's wife to marry him, but the wife instead freed her husband. The husband was initially unwilling to fight Tajōmaru, saying he would not risk his life for such a spoiled woman, but the wife then laughed and criticized both him and Tajōmaru, saying they were not real men and that a real man would fight for a woman's love. Spurring the men to fight one another, she then hid in fear once they raised swords against each other. The two of them appeared fearful of one another as they began fighting. Tajōmaru ultimately won through a stroke of pure luck. After some hesitation he killed the samurai, who begged for his life on the ground, and the wife fled in horror. Tajōmaru was unable to catch her, but took the samurai's sword and left the scene.

So, by the time all four stories are told to us, we're likely no closer to knowing or understanding the genuine truth of what happened in the forest as we were at the beginning of the film. Perhaps this is Kurosawa's deliberate intent, in that, right or wrong, truth is ultimately dependent on one's own point of view. Honestly, we're not given the opportunity for such a resolution of the truth before Kurosawa has turned the tables of his message on us in the form of an abandoned baby beneath the same city gate the men have sitting under. Through this baby, we are suddenly confronted with the very existence of man's own moral dilemas and his very capacity for good and evil. Up until now, we are meant to believe, as maybe does Kurosawa, as well, that man is cold and lacks any faith in its own humanity. But even as it seems the film may close with this negative message bestowed upon us, the tables are turned (again) to the better side of life's beliefs when the woodcutter offers to take the baby and raise him as his own, not only restoring the priest's faith in mankind, but possibly our own, as well. As the film closes, the persistent hard rain has finally stopped and the clouds have opened, revealing the hopeful brightness of the sun in contrast to the beginning where the visual overcast of despair once reigned.

In closing with the description of the sun, it's important to note that one of RASHOMON'S key ingredients (if not, the one!) is the film's use of sun, light and darkness in its brilliant cinematography, which also manages to give the story and its characters a certain feeling of ambiguity. Sunlight may easily be interpreted as "good", while darkness may easily be interpreted as "bad", but it's also noteworthy to mention that there are specific camera shots of the sunlight just before the wife's acts of betrayal against her husband when deciding to run away with the bandit. Does this make her "bad", or merely fickle by her own impulses, as too many people are in real life? Who can say? We only have our real life experiences and dramas to compare with what art cinema chooses to give us.

RASHOMON is, without question, classic black and white art house cinema at its best! Were I to take the time to find any fault with this film, I would have to say it's minor flaws in performance where we are endlessly subjected to the irritating, maniacal laughing of Tajōmaru (played by Toshiro Mifune), as well as the childish crying by the wife Machiko (played by Machiko Kyō), which I honestly can't tell if they're genuine or fake tears. Either way, they're annoying as hell! Oh, well...small price to pay for cinematic genius, which we have so little of by today's Hollywood standards!

Favorite line or dialogue:

Commoner: "It's human to lie. Most of the time we can't even be honest with ourselves."

RANSOM (1996)

(November 1996, U.S.)

The last time I watched Ron Howard's RANSOM (a loose remake of a 1956 film of the same name) would have likely been when I originally bought the DVD about ten years ago or more...and I was not a father yet. Now my own son is the same age as Mel Gibson's son in the film and the idea of watching a terrifying story of a kidnapped child and the frantic parents who try to get him back left me quite uneasy, to say the least. Truth be told, I put off watching the film longer than I should have because I couldn't sum up the emotional courage to put myself through such a story. Well, I can happily say I finally bucked up and, honestly, it wasn't as bad as all that, though there were some painful moments when I thought my eyes would well up. Hey, you fathers out there know what the hell I'm talking about!

So now let's take a trip back in time to when Mel Gibson was still a credible screen actor who hadn't yet begun shooting off his big mouth and gotten himself into a whole lotta hot water with the media. Action hero aside, Mel has proven (more than once) that he can play a solid father figure with all the emotional drama that goes with such a role. As multi-millionaire Tom Mullen, he has all the wealth, privilege and personal safety one could hope for...or so it would seem. Tom also has secrets that include corruption and bribery. His public reputation for payoffs are what ultimately inspire a group of kidnappers to take and hold his son for a two million dollar ransom. From here on, the film follows what one would consider to be the basic formula for any sort of kidnapping crime drama; the FBI, the monitored phone calls, the scrambled traces, ransom delivery instructions and even a botched attempt at making the transaction go smoothly and without incident. What RANSOM delivers that we were not expecting is first, the early revelation that the mastermind behind the kidnapping is also a New York City detective, Jimmy Shaker (played by Gary Sinise), whom, in a serious moment while tailing Tom by car through the streets of New York City, compares his actions and his feelings to the Eloi and the Morlocks in George Pal's THE TIME MACHINE (1960), in which the evil underground dwellers (like Skaker) occasionally riser from the depths and snatch a member of the privileged (like Mullen). Not that that could ever justify kidnapping a child, but you almost believe Shaker's genuine reasoning for committing this crime (almost). Second, and this is hardly a surprise if you've already seen the trailer for this film, is the new plan of action of Tom's that completely turn the tables on the one who took his son by going on television and announcing that the two million dollars that would have been used for the ransom payment has now become a bounty for the kidnapper, dead or alive. Now the only way the kidnappers will save themselves is to return his son unharmed, in which case he'll withdraw the bounty and drop all charges. You can almost feel the tension of this scene, particularly when you're staring at all that cash on the table in front of Gibson...

From this point, the viewer will suddenly find themselves asking the question of what they would do. As a loving parent, one would die and kill for their child. And yet there's that ugly, vengeful side of us that would bring the reign of Hell down on those who would dare to hurt our children (just last summer I found myself shouting uncontrollably at my next door neighbors for indirectly harassing my son - I just snapped!). Right or wrong, I can't help but practically stand up and cheer when Gibson turns it all around and forces the kidnappers to fear him and what he can do to them. By the film's conclusion, Shaker realizes that he's going to lose and uses his position as a detective to kill his accomplices and make it appear as if he rescued Tom's son. And although the real climax of the film is still yet to come after that, I found myself rather satisfied with the uncanny sense of irony that the kidnapper, despite not getting his money, would actually get away with his actions by setting up an alternate scenario. Well, I suppose one's personal cinematic wants and desires can't compete with the formulaic rules of the traditional crime thriller.

Despite solid performances by a great supporting cast that include Rene Russo as Tom's wife (Gibson and Russo reunited after LETHAL WEAPON 3) and Delroy Lindo as the FBI agent working with them, this is a film truly carried by Gibson and Sinise as two men going head-to-head with each other as they each try to think their way out of a game being played with deadly stakes. RANSOM is a remake that outdoes the Glen Ford original in both performance and excitement...and how often can anyone claim that a remake is better than an original? Not too often.

Favorite line or dialogue:

Tom Mullen (on live TV): "The whole world now knows...my son, Sean Mullen, was kidnapped, for ransom, three days ago. This is a recent photograph of him. Sean, if you're watching, we love you. And this...well, this is what waits for the man that took him. This is your ransom. Two million dollars in unmarked bills, just like you wanted. But this is as close as you'll ever get to it. You'll never see one dollar of this money, because no ransom will ever be paid for my son. Not one dime, not one penny. Instead, I'm offering this money as a reward on your head. Dead or alive, it doesn't matter. So congratulations, you've just become a two million dollar lottery ticket...except the odds are much, much better. Do you know anyone that wouldn't turn you in for two million dollars? I don't think you do. I doubt it. So wherever you go and whatever you do, this money will be tracking you down for all time. And to ensure that it does, to keep interest alive, I'm running a full-page ad in every major newspaper every Sunday, for as long as it takes. But...and this is your last chance...you return my son, alive, uninjured, I'll withdraw the bounty. With any luck you can simply disappear. Understand...you will never see this money. Not one dollar. So you still have a chance to do the right thing. If you don't, well, then, God be with you, because nobody else on this Earth will be."

Yeah!!! You go, Mel!!!

RANDOM HARVEST

(December 1942, U.S.)

Hey, it looks like I'm finally out of the '80s! Seriously, for just over a month now, from RAGING BULL to RAN, every film I've posted has been from the 1980s. Well, now I can finally get back to a good 'ol black and white classic from the Golden Age of cinema (which exact decade that actually was has always been a debatable point, but for my own tastes, I tend to go with the 1940s). RANDOM HARVEST is one of those classic love stories that's been shown on Turner Classic Movies many times, though I never had the opportunity to give it a look. What finally peaked my interest was reading one of those many "best films" books written by countless film critics and historians (sorry - I just can't recall the book or the author at this time - I've read that many!). Anyway, for the period of the 1940s, this author painted such a wonderful, intriguing picture of RANDOM HARVEST, that I simply couldn't resist satisfying my curiosity. The result was I saw it, I loved it, I bought the DVD and here we are today!

The film is rather unique not only in its tale of undying, uncompromising love, but also its relationship to amnesia and its ultimate effects and consequences. When we meet World War I British officer "John Smith" (played by Ronald Colman), he's a man committed to an asylum from the shell shock effects of battle in the trenches. He's a lost man with no memory of his past and is also struggling with his speech. At the war's end, the jubilation in the nearby streets allows him to simply slip out of the asylum (dressed in full military uniform) without being stopped. In town, he is befriended by the sympathetic (and blissfully happy) cabaret singer Paula (played by Greer Garson). She guesses that he's from the asylum but as he seems to be harmless, she arranges for him to join her travelling theatrical group. Instead of that, though, the two of them end up running off together and inevitably find solitude in a secluded country village, where they fall in love, marry and have a baby. Sounds like the happy ending to it all, doesn't it? Not quite. This is where things are about to twist and get seriously complicated. On one fateful day in November, during a brief trip to Liverpool on a rainy day, John Smith or "Smithy", as Paula calls him, is struck by a car and manages to miraculously retain his past memory and past life before his stay at the asylum. No longer John Smith, Charles Rainier, a rich industrialist of high end social status, no longer has any memory or knowledge of his life of love and happiness with Paula. Perhaps this doesn't sound so spectacularly interesting to many of my readers, but one needs to take a moment and seriously consider the ironic implications of a simple man unknowingly experiencing two lives and all the people that are involved it them. From here on, the film appears to move forward by showing us not only Charles' recovery, but also his possible future as not only a man of purpose and importance in his business and community, but also a man who will have a future with another woman (a woman less than half his age, I might add!). As we watch his progression over the years, we're likely meant to almost completely forget Paula's existence in his life and in the film. Suddenly, though, out of the blue, we're introduced (years later) to Charles' highly efficient and devoted secretary Margaret, who is actually...(guessed it yet?)...Paula, who managed to track down her long lost mysterious husband and is posing as his secretary with the hope that her daily presence in his life will somehow and someday spark the necessary memory in his rather messed up brain to finally reunite them in the blissful happiness and love they once shared together. Well, what can I say...cliché and predictability demand that these two lost lovers find each other again by the end of the film. They do, and despite our best and hardest resistance, we can't help but fall into a mushy sort of heartfelt swoon when it finally does happen in front of the country cottage they once shared together and she cries, "Smithy!" and he cries "Paula!". When they rush into each other's arms and the camera focuses on Garson joyous face looking up at the sky, thanking her almighty stars that she has her man back again, I defy you not to feel a sort of sappy, sentimental "Awwwwww!" You see, this is what real, true love (not to be confused with silly romantic comedy love!) does not only to a film, but to the viewer that allows themselves to be swept away by it.

Love stories are relatively simple screen products, in my opinion. You either go for them or you don't. With RANDOM HARVEST, you have to ask yourself if you're willing to stay interested in a man's amnesia for two hours. It's a challenging notion, yet Ronald Colman's performance manages to pull it off in that you continue to ask yourself what may or may not happen next in his life, particularly when Paula shows up again. I won't actually call it suspense, but it can keep you guessing. The film can be emotionally excessive at times, but then again, isn't all true love in the movies excessive to a degree? The wonderfully charming performances of Colman and Garson make up for that and in the end, the viewer can't help but get the feeling they've been under a pleasant magic spell in front of the screen. Sometimes that spell is just what we need for two hours of our lives. That, my friends, is what movies can do to us...if we let them!

Favorite line or dialogue:

Smithy: "Isn't there something morbid in burying one's heart with the dead?"
Paula: "That's a strange thing for you to say. Your capacity for loving, your joy in living, is buried in a little space of time you've forgotten."
Smithy: "In some vague way, I still have..."
Paula: "Hope?
Smithy: "Yes, I suppose that's it."
Paula: "Have you, Charles? Do you feel that there...really is someone? That someday you may find her? You may have...come so near her, may even have brushed her on the street. You might even have met her, Charles. Met her and not known her. It might be someone you know, Charles. It might...it might even be me."