Malick's Latest Vision

Perhaps only Terrence Malick - working with his supremely gifted cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki - could make a laundromat seem otherworldly. That is one of the striking images that give Malick's latest work To The Wonder, a dreamlike quality, something the director displays in all of his films. This film continues the reflectiveness of his last work The Tree of Life (2011), especially on a religious note, although without the operatic qualities of that opus, preferring instead to focus on male/female relationships. If the film does not have the structure of the director's finest films such as Days of Heaven, Badlands or The Thin Red Line, this is nonetheless, another moving study of the power of imagery from perhaps the most visually gifted filmmaker working today.

The focus of this film is about a couple Neil (Ben Affleck) and Marina (Olga Kurylenko), who fall in love in France, as Neil is visiting there. She decides she prefers to live in America with him, so along with her young daughter (Tatiana Chiline), she shifts her surroundings from the mystic qualities of her homeland (visually represented by the famed Mont Saint-Michel church, situated on an remote island in Normandy) to the golden plains of Oklahoma, where Neil works for an oil company.

I won't delve into the plot details; there are problems that Neil and Marina encounter soon afterwards; both have affairs. The scenes with Neil and his new love Jane (Rachel McAdams) are shot with more intensity and a sense of beauty than the rather straightforward affair between Marina and a carpenter (Charles Adams) who catches her eye. There is a scene where Neil and Jane are walking through the plains and are suddenly surrounded by dozens of bison; this is one of the most unexpected and stirring visuals in any of Malick's films.

There is also a subplot about a priest, Father Quintana (Javier Bardem), who preaches love and understanding on Sunday to his flock in Oklahoma, but at the same time is questioning his own faith. While this subplot does not seem all that necessary to the film, the message with this character - as well as almost all the individuals of this film - is that they yearn to feel necessary; they want a connection to someone, some place.

This uncertainty of life, of facing what's ahead, was a primary theme of Malick's last film, The Tree of Life. That film, which dealt with everything from creation to the inhuman jungle of skyscrapers and corporate towers that dehumanize us, was a "bigger" film than Into The Wonder, a fact not lost on the critics of the director's latest film; for them, this new work is a disappointment. Yet I throughly enjoyed the film and if it isn't the best thing Malick has done, well, even a second-tier Terrence Malick film - one filled with stunning images as well as inspiring choices of music - is still a rewarding experience, one far more inventive and arresting than just about anything else being made today.

William Friedkin - In His Own Words

William Friedkin (Photo ©Tom Hyland)

"One of my unfulfilled goals in life is that I haven't made Citizen Kane. But nobody else has... It has the same values at the great impressionist paintings." - William Friedkin, speaking in Chicago, April 16, 2013.

William Friedkin is a filmmaker who has always done things his way, so it certainly came as no surprise to listen to what he had to say during a lecture in Chicago, where he recently appeared to promote his new memoir, The Friedkin Connection. Speaking with great ease and offering marvelous charm and wit while relating his stories, the evening was one of the famous director talking about any number of things, from his early days in Chicago to specific tales about his best-known films such as The French Connection and The Exorcist to his thoughts about a few movies from the 1940s and 1950s that greatly influenced his ideas about his craft.

Friedkin related several tales of his youth and fondly recalled the individuals that helped him along the way; he was able to poke fun at himself while narrating this history, as when he went in for an interview at the WGN mail room in the Tribune Tower on Chicago's Michigan Avenue. Ray Damalski, a station employee who was the only person there, liked the young Friedkin, but told him that the ad he was replying to was for a different radio station across the street. Friedkin laughed when he recalled that he had confused the Wrigley Building with the Tribune Tower. Thankfully, Damalski liked him and hired him for the position, which led to a subsequent promotion working on television programs for WGN.


"The only thing I had when I was young was radio. You remember radio. No-inch television."


The director also related how a chance meeting with a priest, Father Robert Serfling, led to his first film. Serfling was the Protestant minister at Cook County Prison on Chicago's South Side; he was assigned to the prisoners on Death Row. Friedkin talked to him about his work and asked him if he thought that any of the current prisoners at that time was innocent; the priest replied that there was one, a young man named Paul Crump.

Fascinated by this exchange, Friedkin went with Father Serfling to the prison to meet Crump. In his book, Friedkin weaves an engaging section about this meeting ("I had no fear of Paul") and his decision to learn all the facts of the case. After gathering as much information as he could and having listened to Crump tell his version of what happened, the director decided that he could help the convict in his appeal to be spared the electric chair, as he would make a documentary about this case.

That film, The People vs. Paul Crump, made in 1962 on a shoestring budget, was a passionate work that Friedkin and his cameraman Bill Butler (who would go on to have a distinguished career as a cinematographer in Hollywood on such films as Jaws and Capricorn One) assembled on their own time, as both had full-time jobs at WGN at that point. Friedkin relates this story in his book, admitting that neither of them knew much about the technical aspects of editing and synching sound with visuals. Despite this, the film was much admired and did help Crump in his efforts; Friedkin was on his way as a filmmaker.

(Photo ©Tom Hyland)

Friedkin related a number of stories about his films, especially The Exorcist. This was one of only three instances of exorcism recognized by the Catholic Church during the 20th century. The director told us all he could about this incident, including the fact that it was a 14-year old boy and not a 12-year old girl, as this was altered for the film; he also mentioned that while he knows of this male, who recently retired from NASA after a successful career, he has never said his name in public - and never will.

He also told a great story about how he was able to tap into some of the anger in Gene Hackman's performance in The French Connection. Without going into all the details, he said that after a take, he would tell Hackman that his performance was pretty bad; the actor, full of rage at this response to his work, was infuriated. Friedkin would then tell his cameraman to start rolling so he could capture Hackman's finest moments. As everyone knows, Hackman would go on to win an Academy Award as Best Actor for that film, but as Friedkin related, "I take no credit for Gene's work."

"The worst thing you can say about a film is that it's 'interesting. Interesting?' What, for fifteen bucks?"

Friedkin also spoke of his love for the MGM musicals of the 1950s - "the films I wish I'd made" - and the studio system. About this topic, he admitted how this approach to filmmaking fascinated him, as directors often made four, five or even more films a year. "I would give half my career away if I had worked in the studio system... I would have been a better filmmaker."

Along with his passion for the work of Orson Welles on Citizen Kane, Friedkin also spoke of how he loved the films of Alfred Hitchcock; in fact, his advice for aspiring filmmakers is to go see all of Hitchcock's movies. "They're all made with clarity and simplicity... He would direct actors beautifully without saying much." He also recommends that young movie makers go out and shoot something, edit it and put it on YouTube.

While several of the stories Friedkin related in public are also in his book, there's a great deal of information about his career in his new memoir that he did not talk about, including a number of details about the famous car chases in both The French Connection and To Live and Die in L.A. (about the former, he writes about the six "events" he planned for that sequence and how a few things happened accidentally along the way). It's just as fascinating to read Friedkin's harsh description of the early documentaries he made for David Wolper and how he learned a valuable lesson about the people he worked for - as well as himself.

Friedkin also writes of his inner demons (appropriate, one imagines, for the director of The Exorcist) and admits to harboring "anger and resentment." He is quick to point out his flaws and just as swift to thank his current wife Sherry Lansing (former head of Paramount Studios) and his children who help him "suppress my darker impulses." Not many people as well known as Friedkin would write about their own personal struggles; it certainly makes for fascinating reading and adds a lovely touch of humanity to this wonderfully creative man.

I'm pleased to have met William Friedkin and listen to him talk about his life in films; I'm even more delighted that he has written his memoir (buy here), a fascinating study of Hollywood, the individuals that populate it and how one director came to enjoy great success in that world, despite his disagreements with others. If you love Friedkin's films, this is a must. But even if you don't know much about his work or don't consider yourself a movie fanatic, this book is recommended for its frankness and no-nonsense attitude. Would you expect anything less from this man?

A Beautiful Final Tribute to Roger Ebert

"Roger didn't just dominate his profession, he defined it." - Chicago mayor Rahm Emanuel, speaking in tribute at the funeral of Roger Ebert.


I attended the funeral of Roger Ebert this morning at Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago. The day started out overcast and rainy; I could have easily said, "It's a lousy day," and skipped going. But after what Ebert went through? How could I even think of not attending? I am so thankful I did.

The ceremony was the traditional Roman Catholic ceremony, performed so simply and beautifully by three priests backed by a choir and organist. The priest who delivered the eulogy (sorry I don't have his name), also teaches film classes at Loyola University in Chicago and knew Roger and his wife Chaz quite well and spoke about their discussions of life and film.

He mentioned how certain 20th century authors such as Flannery O'Connor, Graham Greene and Evelyn Waugh had all found "a dark place." Ebert, to the priest's way of thinking has also "made a discovery in the darkness," and as a life-long Catholic, "had found a different Jesus." Quoting from the 2002 film The Hours in which Nicole Kidman portrayed the author Virginia Woolf, he repeated one of her lines: "To love life for what it is." Clearly Ebert always shared that sentiment, even after cancer robbed him of many of his everyday activities.

Towards the end of the ceremony, several dignitaries and one co-worker from the Chicago Sun Times spoke in tribute. Mayor Emanuel started things off in a light-hearted way, saying that when he was growing up and wanted to see a movie, there were two things he had to know; "what time did it start and what did Roger Ebert think of it?" That comment drew a nice laugh from the large crowd (not quite overflow, but almost a full house). Emanuel ended up his speech by talking about all of Roger's work, be it a film critic, journalists, author, tv host, blogger, et al. "What Roger loved most of all was living."


Governor Pat Quinn of Illinois called Ebert, "a righteous oak. We thank God for his purposeful life." Jonathan Jackson, son of civil rights activist, Jesse Jackson, read a brief tribute from his father as well as one from filmmaker Spike Lee, who reminded us that Ebert was one of the few critics who understood the message of Lee's film Do The Right Thing, back in 1989. His boss at the Sun-Times (I do not have his name), said that he never had to worry about Ebert getting his work in on time, adding that "Roger was 24/7 before any of us ever heard that term."


Finally it was time for Ebert's wife Chaz to speak. Amidst a standing ovation, she admitted that she wondered about getting out of bed this morning to attend to this and that speaking was the farthest thing from her mind. "But I knew that Roger would have wanted me to speak." Adding a charming human touch, she pointed to her dazzling hat she wore for the occasion and said, "Besides, Roger loved this hat."

Her brief speech was lovely and heartfelt. "Roger was a champion for social justice. He had such a big heart." She finished by saying "I feel like Roger is here with us."


The hymn Amazing Grace was played during the middle of the ceremony. One line in this hymn struck me as very appropriate for this day.

"Tiz grace that brought me safe thus far,
"And grace will lead me home."


Through his marvelous life, Roger Ebert touched the hearts of so many people. Here was a cathedral filled with mourners not for a politician, not for a world leader, not for an athlete but for a film critic. Clearly he went far beyond his duties in that role to tell us a message about living life to the fullest. Yes, Roger Ebert is heading home, a man draped in God's grace.

A Different Looking Romance

Upside Down, directed by Juan Solanas, is a film that takes a time-honored story - that of Romeo and Juliet - and places it in a visually stunning futuristic world. It's a perfectly watchable piece of work with a few moments of inspiration, but in the final analysis, it's a bit of a disappointment, despite its uniqueness.

The premise of the story, we are told in the title sequence, is that the characters inhabit a world of dual gravity. It then becomes a conflict between the haves - those from the upper world, known as Up Top - and the have nots - the ones from the bottom level, Down Below. The ones at the bottom - including Adam (Jim Sturgess) who narrates the opening sequence - have been put there by the evil (make that EVIL in capital letters) conglomerate Trans World, whose corporate tower connects the two worlds.

Eden (Kirsten Dunst) lives in the upper world, one of great natural splendor, as opposed to the dark, gritty reality of the underworld. The two of them meet as young children and are immediately attracted to each other; romance between the two worlds cannot exist, so their meeting is broken up by the authorities.

The storyline then jumps ten years, which is when the film becomes more involving. Adam discovers that Eden works at Transworld, so following his heart, he knows he must take a job there, if he has the smallest chance to rekindle their romance. The set piece here is the main work place, which is divided into two horizontal halves- with the worker bees if you will, (bees are a theme here) from the underworld sitting on their level, while the employees from the upper world sit on top - who we see right side up and upside down in any one scene depends on the point of view that is being shown and it's a nicely done device, one that in my opinion is not overdone. There's also a nicely conceived shot of the elevator panel that displays the various floors (from negative to positive) sideways and not up and down, as up belongs to the treasured employees, while down is about the entry level workers that generally do most of the creative stuff that management takes credit for- so what else is new?

There are some other nice visuals as well, including the memorably designed ballroom as well as the eclectic restaurant where Adam and Eden have lunch. The two characters are individuals, first and foremost and if their embodiment in the screenplay is not exactly three-dimensional, well, I can forgive that to a certain degree, given the human spirit versus corporate greed angle of the story. Kirsten Dunst is not exactly given a meaty role here, but she's quite good, charming as ever and absolutely beautiful. As Adam, Jim Sturgess has a certain charisma that's fine, but his acting here depends too much on his "aw, shucks" reactions, as he turns his head and shrugs his shoulders to emphasize his uncertainty. The only other role of note is that of Bob Boruchowitz (Timothy Spall), a member of middle management, who literally overlooks (thanks to the upside down visuals) Adam's work and hatches a plot to help Adam prosper; Spall plays the role with a nice gruffy, matter-of-factness. (Additional note: There is only one black character in the film and he's not in the upper world. Were the creators of this film trying to add social commentary to this romance? It's worth a discussion, one that has gone largely unnoticed by most critics.)

As I mentioned at the start of this review, this is a perfectly watchable film and it certainly has its heart in the right place. But it's a rather trivial piece of movie making, despite the remarkable amount of post-production work that went into it. These days, we expect some pretty special visuals in just about every film, even if it doesn't deal with futuristic sets. But a movie needs a lot more than fancy images to capture our hearts. Certainly Life of Pi was dependent on a great amount of CGI work, yet it's a marvelous film, thanks to the religious aspect of the story and screenplay as well as the intelligent direction of Ang Lee. Upside Down would have been a lot better film if the same amount of effort that is evident in the production design and special effects had been instilled in the screenplay. As it is, it's a movie with a few nice moments; I just wish it had been a little more involving.

Photos courtesy of Millennium Entertainment

A Gut-Wrenching Experience

The Impossible, the story of one family's struggle to survive the wrath of the deadly 2004 tsunami that his Southeast Asia, is a gut-wrenching film, one that grabs hold of the viewer from the start and never lets go. It is gripping, highly emotional and a first-rate piece of filmmaking that captures the monstrous power of nature as well as the tender love of humanity.

Directed by Juan Antonio Bayona, the film focuses on the story of a British couple and their three young boys who have traveled to Thailand for the Christmas holidays. Only a few minutes into the movie, the tsunami hits their idyllic oceanside retreat; the recreation of this disaster is stunning in its detail, visual and aural power and emotional punch to the stomach.

At first, the images are quiet; a poolside blender suddenly stops, a wind quietly picks up and blows away a page from a book that Maria (Naomi Watts) is reading, a flock of birds takes wing from nearby palm trees. And then... there is that sound - the sound of doom, of the oncoming wave of destruction. The visuals in recreating the tsunami are amazing, but a great deal of credit also goes to sound designer Oriol Tarrago for his outstanding work, as the sounds as well as the sights of the force of the storm overwhelm us. Especially noteworthy are the sounds of characters gurgling and spitting out water that they have swallowed as the storm carries them on its deadly path. At times with an underwater camera, we cannot see exactly what is happening, which adds to the confusion and terror of the immediate moment so these random sounds only heighten the drama.

There are basically two story lines here; the first (and strongest) is that of Maria and Lucas, who have been joined together in the destruction. She has been severely injured, as her leg has been cut along the storm's path. Lucas, who is terrified, suddenly has to become a man, tending to his mother, as he ultimately leads her to whatever medical help he can find. Holland, who is 16 years of age, is excellent in his role, especially in the scenes in the hospital, where he willingly helps other survivors try to locate their loved ones. His sudden strength is one of the major points of this film, as we learn how the human spirit can triumph over incredibly strong odds.

The other subplot deals with Henry (Ewan MacGregor), who not only has been separated from his wife and oldest son, but also his two youngest sons, Thomas and Simon, who are both under 10 years old. I've admired MacGregor for some time for his naturalistic acting style and he's quite good in this role. He has a much-talked about scene in which he phones a far-away friend and breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably. It works beautifully and in all seriousness, it's one of the most honest scenes I've ever witnessed in a film of a man crying. His fellow survivors in this scene, each desperate to connect with a loved one, feel his pain and we the audience do as well.

There has been a fair amount of criticism regarding the sentimentality of this film. Is it overly sentimental? Well answering that is like asking if someone is "excessively jealous." To borrow a line from the great 1959 courtroom drama Anatomy of a Murder, "what's the norm of jealousy?" If this film is too sentimental in its tone, well that's up to the person watching this work. It is a film that pushes human emotions to the forefront, but I never thought it became maudlin or syrupy.

There have also been some attacks on the makers of this film for not doing enough to show the human loss of this tsunami. Some critics have pointed out that 230,000 people lost their lives in this disaster, yet the film deals only with this family and a few dozen other individuals. I don't know what these critics wanted, as the story of this family (based on the true story of a family from Spain) is quite engrossing. Perhaps the creators of this film should have included a card in the final title sequence honoring the dead; I would have liked that, but I don't think the film suffers because of this omission.

I also want to mention the outstanding work of cinematographer Oscar Faura, whose bright, deeply saturated images at the beginning of this film stand as an ironic contrast to the starkness of the wrecked landscape that we see throughout most of the movie. In between these visual tones, the natural lighting and look of the hospital where many of the survivors are being treated is extremely well done. This is the work of an accomplished cameraman; I would have liked to see him receive an Oscar nomination, but this year as in most years, there are eight or ten films that could get this nod, so it's not necessarily a slight to Faura that he wasn't nominated, but he is certainly someone to take notice of.

I would have also enjoyed seeing composer Fernando Velasquez get a nomination for his marvelous score, but it didn't happen. I think it should have, as this is one of the three of four best scores of the year. It is quite romantic at times, especially in a scene of some of the family members reuniting; perhaps some thought his score was a bit over the top. I don't think this was the case at all, especially when he provides a wonderful cue with nervous strings underlining a scene in which the two young boys are being driven away in a truck with other survivors to who knows where. It's a taut, nervous cue, one that perfectly suits the fractured emotions of the characters (as well as the audience, who want to see a family resolution). The score stands beautifully on its own and let's just say that if John Williams or the late John Barry or Jerry Goldsmith composed this score, they would not only have received an Oscar nomination, but it would have been labeled an "instant classic." (think of the score for Out of Africa by Barry or The Russia House from Goldsmith or Schindler's List from Williams and you'll get an idea of the quality of this musical opus.)

For a film that has received so many positive reviews, it's become a bit unhip lately to praise this film. Well even if that's the case, I don't give a damn. I was moved by this film and I am certain most people will be as well. Congratulations to director J.A. Bayona for making this film the way he wanted to, by highlighting the human emotions that saved this family. One particular sequence that is one of Bayona's best moments occurs near the end of the film when Maria undergoes anesthesia before her surgery; her inner thoughts are on display visually as we see her body float underwater amidst the debris of the storm. At one point, we see the light of the sun from above change this image from that of devastation to one of hope. It's a striking, moving, emotional image that is perfect for this scene and for the overall tone of the film.

You'd have to not own a soul to not be affected in some strong way by The Impossible, especially in the final scene where Maria sees the storm's destruction from above. Watts is perfect in this scene, as she is in just about every moment she is on screen. Her strength is something we can all admire and hope we can display under times of hardship. We may never go through the struggle Maria goes through in this film, but we can identify with her strong will to live. What a lovely message!

A Masterwork

Zero Dark Thirty, the story of the ten year manhunt for Osama Bin Laden is a great, great film. Directed by Kathryn Bigelow and written by Mark Boal, the film is part war movie, part suspense film and part a look at how the world has changed so much since that fateful day of September 11, 2001. This is Bigelow's finest work to date and is a masterwork; it is, in my opinion, the finest film of 2012.

Bigelow, who directed her first feature film in 1982, became an overnight success with her work on The Hurt Locker (2008), for which she won as Oscar as Best Director (the film was also named Best Picture at those same ceremonies). That film centered on an elite Army squad stationed in Iraq, whose job it was to diffuse and disarm bombs in everyday locales.

The focus on that film was more limited, as it dealt with three soldiers on that team and how the dangerous work they were assigned to affected their lives. Both Bigelow and Boal, who also penned the screenplay for Hurt Locker, were careful not to make overt political statements in that film, preferring to present these soldiers as brave men who dealt with incredible risks on an everyday basis. The Hurt Locker was not pro-war, nor was it anti-war - it was pro-soldier. It was also a superb film in which the viewer's heart was pounding throughout most of the action.

Zero Dark Thirty continues Bigelow's and Boal's fascination with the Iraq war, but the canvas here is much broader, as the film's primary subject matter is how the CIA must gather the information to capture Osama Bin Laden, the man who masterminded the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. The film opens with a black screen, as we hear noises of cries in the buildings that were destroyed as well as phone calls to loved ones who knew they were going to die that day.

The film's center is a young female agent named Maya (Jessica Chastain). Her first scene has her with a team of agents who are interrogating a low-level member of Al Qaeda. Her superior, Dan (Jason Clarke in a very nice, natural performance) tells this Iraqi that if he is lied to, he will hurt him. He does so, as he begins waterboarding his prisoner in order to make him reveal a name or two. Maya turns away in horror and after Dan momentarily leaves this small cel, tries to comfort the prisoner with a few words.

But Maya - her character is based on one particular agent who has never been identified - is soon immune to these sessions as she becomes more hard-boiled and realizes the importance of her work; she has to come up with names and pieces of information that will lead to the capture of Bin Laden. Her social life is non-existent, as she becomes a workaholic, thriving on the scrutiny of her assignment. She dines in, telling a fellow agent not to eat out, as it's "too dangerous."

It is this single mindedness of her character that eventually makes her stand out in her work and get noticed, in both good and bad ways. She is convinced that one particular member of Al Qaeda - whom she has been told is deceased - is indeed still living and that if she can find him, that will be the key to the CIA's years of effort. Her bosses yell at her, telling her she is crazy and is following a ghost trail, but she perseveres, leading to her new station chief agreeing to let her have the resources she wants for her latest request. Maya looks puzzled, as though this is too easy, but as her boss tells her, "I learned from my predecessor that it's much easier not arguing with you."

What I like about this character is that we're not given some cheap psychology as to why she acts the way she does. We accept that she is lonely and that the love of her work drives her. Clearly, the fact that she's one of the few women assigned to this sort of detail is another key to her behavior. In one of the few comic moments of the film, Maya is the only woman at a high level meeting at CIA headquarters in Langley, VA in which the department head Leon Panetta (nicely portrayed by James Gandolfini) notices her and asks her who she is. Her reply? "I'm the motherfucker who found the house," (referring to the compound where she belives Bin Laden is hiding), is a clear sign that she needs to take on a ballsy attitude if she is to survive in her job.

Maya's dedication and tireless efforts - along with the help of her fellow agents - convince the CIA to argue that the President order the attack on the compound to kill Bin Laden. This is the last thirty minutes of the film and it's white knuckle, edge-of-your-seat time during this extended sequence. A good part of it is filmed in night vision photography, which adds a mysterious, eerie, slightly dangerous edge to an already volatile situation. Of course, we know how this will turn out - Bin Laden is killed - so that makes the suspense in this scene even more impressive. I like how the key moment of the scene is presented, without calling attention to itself; in fact the soldiers who are there are not even certain that the individual they killed is Bin Laden. It becomes a job for these soldiers and while they know the importance of their mission, the tone of this part of the film is not revenge, but merely completing an assignment.

I mentioned that this is Bigelow's finest work so far; I can't say enough about how accomplished her direction of this film is. She never goes to any great lengths to wring the sentiment out of a scene; clearly the emotions and details of the story are dramatic enough. I alluded to her handling of the assault on the compound, but there are two scenes in particular that are of equal quality; one is a recreation of a bombing in a restaurant and the other, the cross cutting between Maya and her fellow agent Jessica (Jennifer Ehle) texting each other about an Iraqi informant whom Jessica is meeting. Maya is in her office, far away from this encounter and we see her anxiously await the next online text from her colleague. It's a tense scene that turns somber and it's a beautiful expression of the devastating emotions arising from sudden loss of life.

I am also greatly impressed with the cinematography of Greig Fraser. Much of the discussion of his work will center on the night vision photography of the assault on the compound, but Fraser's work throughout is stunning. Much of the film is during the day and he uses natural light instead of arc lights, rendering small shafts of sunshine on the faces of the main characters. There's an orange glow in the background of one of the film's final images, as Maya looks to see if the murdered man in the body bag is indeed Bin Laden. The way Fraser lights this combined with Bigelow's (and Fraser's?) classic composition, is a highly moving moment, one that perfectly captures the appropriate mood.

I'd also like to praise Alexandre Desplat for his beautiful score. Desplat has, in my opinion, been the finest composer for films over the past half dozen years; classically trained, his scores have been filled with lovely melodies for full symphonies. But for this work, as is proper, his music is subdued, often very quiet; it serves the film at it should, merely adding a bit of texture and it never announces itself. In fact, you may not even remember the score after you see the film, which is rather high praise, as it never gets in the way. There are numerous composers that can deliver a pretty tune for a film, but few that can write as emotionally well as Desplat.


The film is a superb look at this incident in the recent history of America. While Bigelow and Boal again go out of their way not to make political statements (or to praise or condemn any particular administration), there are disturbing scenes of torture early on in the film. To not show these scenes or to not refer to them would have been dishonest. But the film does not advocate torture and it does not argue that such torture had great effects on the CIA's success in gathering information. Others have claimed it does and this had led to a media firestorm, as early praise of this film has been somewhat tempered. Certainly the snub by the Oscars in not nominating Bigelow as Best Director is more than likely rooted in this aspect. It is unfortunate that this misrepresentation of the film's message has arisen. One wonders if some of the people making these claims even saw the film or if they did, had their minds already made up before they entered the theater. Upon the conclusion of the film, I thought to myself that here was a film everyone could agree upon. Given the constant moaning and groaning in the country, I should have known better.


This controversy aside, this is great filmmaking technically and spiritually. It gives us a character that is a true American at heart, one who will suffer for the sake of the common good. We all felt a terrible blow on 9/11 and this film tells us how dedicated we as Americans are in fighting for what we believe in. We may make mistakes along the way, but in this instance, we succeeded in ridding the world of one of its most evil individuals.


I want to point out that this is not a jingostic film; this is not about the might of America, but about the right of humanity to live without fear. The end credits remember the victims of 9/11 as well as the bombing of the passenger bus in England as well as those who perished in other terrorist attacks. This is a nice touch by the filmmakers and it's clear that Bigelow and Boal remembered these victims as they made this film. For that, they can be proud.

The Best American Films of 1962

We've reached the end of 2012, so it's high time for me to list my favorite American films from exactly fifty years ago. 1962 was one of the great years in American cinema, remembered by some as the finest since 1939 when works such as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Wizard of Oz, Stagecoach and Gone With the Wind were Hollywood's most celebrated productions. I'll let others argue as to which year was better, but take a look at the films listed below from 1962 - and remember that this is a list of American films from the year, so I'm not including Lawrence of Arabia, the Oscar winner for Best Picture from that year.

1) The Manchurian Candidate - directed by John Frankehheimer - One of two works from Frankenheimer on this list - The Manchurian Candidate, like most great films, stands up to repeated viewings; today the film is as relevant as ever. There are several subplots, each linked to the central theme of brainwashing, as Eleanor Shaw Iselin (brilliantly portrayed by Angela Lansbury) is the American leader of a plot to have her son Raymond Shaw (Laurence Harvey), a Korean war hero, assassinate the leading candidate for President, so her husband, extremist Senator John Iselin (James Gregory) can become leader of the free world and, as one can imagine, lead America down a path of deceit and shame. The brainwashing sequence near the film's beginning where the soldiers have been told they are at a ladies' discussion of gardening, all the while being asked to kill their fellow combatants, is a masterfully directed scene, one that was undeniably chilling in 1962 and still has the power to shock today. A strong message of this film is that the main characters, especially Major Bennett Marco (Frank Sinatra, rarely better) are haunted by their past; given the way that this story plays out, it is clear that they will be haunted for the rest of their lives.

2) To Kill a Mockingbird - directed by Robert Mulligan - One of the most famous and most moving of all American films, Mockingbird is, at its heart, a film about decency, a common theme for Mulligan. The brilliant screenplay, adapted by Horton Foote from Harper Lee's marvelous and wildly successful novel, is a model of efficiency and one filled with emotionally accurate dialogue. While the courtroom sequence in which lawyer Atticus Finch (Gregory Peck in his Oscar-winning role) defends an innocent black man accused of raping a white woman in the Deep South of the 1930s is the most well-known in the film, the scene in which Atticus' children come to his rescue as he is being taunted by his fellow citizens for defending a black man, is just as memorable and as beautifully played out. Especially noteworthy in this scene is how Atticus' young daughter Scout (Mary Badham in one of the greatest child performances ever recorded on film) recognizes the father of one of her classmates and asks, "Don't you remember me?... You brought us some hickory nuts one early morning, remember?" It is this sort of emotional detail combined with Mulligan's sensitive direction and Elmer Bernstein's lyrical and heartfelt score that makes this a classic work of Americana.

3) Advise and Consent - directed by Otto Preminger - Otto Preminger's highly entertaining look at the inside workings of Washington, D.C. politics is a reminder of how little things have changed in our culture (with the exception of the politicians of fifty years ago being a little more polite!) The main story line deals with a nominee for Secretary of State named Robert Leffingwell (Henry Fonda), who is both admired and hated by members of his own party; we follow the process of a congressional hearing and ultimately a Senate vote to learn whether he will be confirmed. Along the way, we marvel at the wonderful characters that populate this story, from the morally strong Majority Leader Robert Munson (Walter Pidgeon) to the cantakerous Seib Cooley, a Southern Democrat who likes to stir the pot to the less than scrupulous Fred Van Acekerman, who is out to see that Leffingwell is confirmed, no matter at what personal harm he may inflict along the way. Following box-office and critical successes with Anatomy of a Murder (1959) and Exodus (1960), Preminger at this time was at a high point in his career; here the use of his camera, floating amidst the Senate chamber is something to marvel at, as is his direction of the final vote, both in terms of space and timing. The outstanding script is by Wendell Mayes, based on the best-selling novel from Allen Drury; Sam Leavitt's black and white photography is documentarian in nature and suits this subject beautifully. Superb ensemble acting as Preminger lets the performers have their moments; thankfully, he sees no need to super charge the film with odd or peculiar images, as the material is strong enough.

4) The Days of Wine and Roses - directed by Blake Edwards - Blake Edwards was most famous for his comedies, as with The Pink Panther films, but this drama is arguably his finest work. The story of how an agreeable businessman Joe Clay (Jack Lemmon) falls heads over heels with an attractive secretary Kirsten Arnesen (Lee Remick) and then turns her on to the lure of alcohol is a descent into hell. Both characters are devastated, but while he admits his problem, she does not. The final scene of the two of them together, as Joe tries to reason with Kirsten into returning to his life, is incredibly heartbreaking and this ending was surely one of the most downbeat in American films up to that time. Both performers are brilliant - Remick was never better - and the scene in the plant nursery where Joe frantically searches for a bottle of bourbon he placed somewhere, is unforgettable in its intensity; it's one of the finest moments for both actor and director. Charles Bickford gives a touching performance as Kirsten's father, another in a long line of great portrayals from this highly underrated performer. Some critics have complained that the troubles of the two main characters are somewhat exaggerated; their reasoning seems to be that instead of just becoming drunks, these two are world-class drunks, teetering on the edge of survival. But honestly, if these two individuals were not as affected as they are, would we really care about them? Would the film be as emotionally shattering? I think not.

5) The Miracle Worker - directed by Arthur Penn - Based on the William Gibson play about Anne Sullivan, the woman that taught Helen Keller how to speak and write, this is a highly absorbing film from Arthur Penn, who had sharpened his directorial teeth in television throughout much of the 1950s. Certainly that training explains his powerful staging of the film's most famous scene in which the two principals struggle with each other in a physical battle over table manners; this nine-minute scene is emotionally exhausting to experience. In many other scenes, simple gestures, such as forming an object with one's fingers, are powerful visuals and it's clear that Penn played up the emotional conflict of the two characters, as Keller strongly resists Sullivan's - or anyone's - search to get closer. Both Anne Bancroft as Sullivan and Patty Duke as Keller, repeating their stage performances, won Academy Awards. Penn's identity as a director who specialized in stories about the individual's inner demons was cemented with this film.

6) Birdman of Alcatraz - directed by John Frankenheimer - This story of inmate Robert Stroud and his groundbreaking work with birds during his decades in prison is a gripping and somber film from Frankenheimer, who directs with great ease and assuredness. While we watch first with great joy and then with sheer awe at how Stroud (Burt Lancaster) cares for the birds in his cel, the other storyline of his relationship with warden Harvey Shoemaker (Karl Malden) is just as absorbing, as Shoemaker hates the idea of a convicted murderer doing anything but prison time, while Stroud only wants to better his world. Everyone remembers the stunning performance of Lancaster, which is clearly among his finest, yet few recall the outstanding work of Malden, who is called upon as a strong combatant to Lancaster. While this film tends to drag a bit toward the end in the scenes of a prison riot, there are so many powerful and poignant moments - as when Stroud tells his wife that he cannot see her anymore - that carry this film to great heights. The stark black and white photography of Burnett Guffey is stunning, as we are given a bleak world of hopelessness. At its core, Birdman of Alcatraz is a tribute to the human spirit and the quality of never giving up, no matter how great the odds.

7) Freud (aka Freud: The Secret Passion) - directed by John Huston - John Huston specialized in films about characters who embarked on a far away adventure; with Freud, that journey is one that takes place within the human psyche. The film focuses on Freud's work with patients suffering from hysteria; at first he works with a colleague, Joseph Breuer, who believes in Freud's theories, while the second half of the film is about Freud's work on his own, especially his treatment of a young woman named Cecily (Susannah York). It is during conversations with her that Freud pieces together his principles of childhood sexuality and repression; this neatly culminates with him sorting out incidents from his own youth and how he reacted to his parents. This is a film that demands a great deal of attention from the audience; one doubts that today's filmgoers would sit through this sincere treatment of Freud's work. Huston's direction is intense, as he brings out the overt meanings of the various dream sequences in beautiful visuals. An excellent, brooding performance by Montgomery Clift as Freud is among the film's highlights as is the subtle, edgy score from the great Jerry Goldsmith.

8) The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance - directed by John Ford - While I don't find this film to be the classic that others do, there is much that I admire about this unusual Western, especially in the duality of its themes of law versus violence. The second half of this film, when attorney Ransom Stoddard (Jimmy Stewart) slowly introduces basic schooling and the principles of democracy to the small town of Shinbone, where guns were always the previous way of settling an argument, is especially strong. The performances throughout are excellent - I particularly love Edmond O'Brien's larger-than-life take as Dutton Peabody, the town's newspaper editor - and the scene late in the film when Tom Donovan (John Wayne) tells Stoddard, "you didn't kill Liberty Valance..." is one of Wayne's finest moments on screen. The line from the penultimate scene, "this is the West, sir. When the legend becomes fact, print the legend," is one of the most famous and devastatingly honest of any American film.

9) Lolita - directed by Stanley Kubrick - It's clear that this version of Vladimir Nabokov novel is not the film that Stanley Kubrick wanted to make - studio censors made certain of that - but this is still a notable work, one filled with great subtleties and marvelous irony. Nabokov adapted his own screenplay and contributed many moments of wonderful dialogue for the four main characters, each of whom is a fascinating, three-dimensional individual. There are some great sexual innuendos - the line about the "cherry pies" being the most famous, but my favorite quote is by Professor Humbert (James Mason) when he tells his wife Charlotte (Shelley Winters), "every game has its rules." It's wonderfully ironic at the time, but that line will carry greater weight as the story proceeds with its numerous encounters. Kubrick's direction is subdued and filled with a sharp eye for the droll humor in numerous sequences; his staging of the scene where Charlotte dances with Humbert in her home is supremely enacted and effortlessly carried out. Though a bit stretched at 152 minutes (the scene with Dr. Zemsh seems like a plot contrivance, while the final explanation of why Lolita left Humbert is rather straightforward in its exposition and not as clever as it should have been), overall, this is a fascinating film. First-rate performances by Mason, Winters (was she ever better?) and Sellers as well as exceptional dreamlike black and white photography by Oswald Morris.

10) Experiment in Terror - directed by Blake Edwards - Like John Frankenheimer, Blake Edwards also had a very successful 1962, most famously with The Days of Wine and Roses (#4, above), but also with this cleverly crafted thriller, which unfortunately is not as well known as it should be. Bank teller Kelly Sherwood (Lee Remick) is grabbed by a crazed man named Red Lynch (Ross Martin) late at night in her garage and told she must abscond with $100,000 from the bank and hand it over to him; if she refuses, he will harm her younger sister Toby (Stefanie Powers). Kelly - as well as we the viewer - cannot see this man's face, so the only thing she can tell the FBI agent John Ripley (Glenn Ford) assigned to her case is that the man has asthmatic breathing; indeed we do not see this man's entire face for the first half of the film, adding to the tension. Edwards and his cinematographer Philip Lathrop create a world of light and shadow in which characters move from the relative safety of their brightly lit surroundings into the unknown dangers of the darkness. There is a constant theme of individuals being trapped in a structure, be it a bank teller's desk, a swimming pool (Toby is being watched there, unbeknownst to her) or within one's residence. Set in San Francisco, the opening and closing sequences - a late night drive across the Bay Bridge and a shootout at Candlestick Park - are eerie and beautifully shot. Henry Mancini contributed a wonderfully creepy score; his opening theme is one of the most spine-chilling ever composed for the cinema.

Honorable mention: Cape Fear (dir. J. Lee Thompson); Lonely are the Brave (dir. David Miller)