July Review: Much Ado About Nothing (1993)

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material.)

“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.
Men were deceivers ever.
One foot on sea, and one on shore,
to one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so
But let them go
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all
Your sounds of woe
Into hey, nonny, nonny.”

Ah, William Shakespeare. The Bard. The muse of many. Stratford-Upon-Avon’s golden boy. The man who put humanity to prose and through his many poems, songs and plays revealed the nature of –

(sigh)

I had a feeling this would happen.

Now that I have your attention, let me say that I get what many of you are feeling right now. Chances are you were forced to read Shakespeare in your high school English class and you most likely found it the most dull indecipherable piece of literature to be praised as art since…well, take your pick of the other classics you probably had to read. Sadly, that’s the trap most English teachers fall into. Shakespeare wrote poetry, which is prime for studying and easy enough for most folks to understand, but he’s primarily famous for his plays, and plays aren’t supposed to be read like any other book – they’re supposed to be seen. Even I in my obsessive bookworminess had difficulty understanding what was really happening while reading Hamlet and Macbeth unless I read the side notes or my teacher put on film versions of the plays that we were reviewing.

I had a general grasp of how important the works of Shakespeare were and even had some interest in learning more about them unlike my bored classmates, but I was never quite able to appreciate the works of Will ’til long after I left the classroom setting. Much of that is primarily thanks to the videos of Kyle Kallgren and Overly Sarcastic Productions. Both reviewers have very distinctive styles – one an in-depth analysis that balances familiarity with the subject with pop culture playfulness, the other a speedy anime-drawn recap marked by a few snarky asides and often a gentle acoustic cover of a song related to the subject played over the end credits – but they both made me realize the reason why Shakespeare has persisted for over 400 years and is taught ad nauseum: his stories are universal. Be it love, war, vengeance, betrayal, magic, history, religion, family, legacy, the transition from youth to adulthood, gender and societal roles, or the very nature of being, the Bard has covered most every genre and theme known to man, and created some of the most popular stories and characters that have been revisited countless times by an infinite parade of directors, actors, cultures, and storytellers. One particular auteur was singled out by Kyle for revitalizing Shakespeare for the silver screen in the much latter half of the 20th century.

Kenneth Branaugh, the finest slice of Northern Irish ham you’ll ever see on stage or screen, and one of the most highly regarded Shakespearean thespians of our time, having both directed and starred in lavish film versions of Henry the Fifth, Hamlet, Love’s Labors Lost, As You Like It, a filmed stage adaptation of The Winter’s Tale and the movie I’ll be reviewing today, Much Ado About Nothing – or as I like to call it, the blueprint for every future rom-com ever made. There’s fanciful innuendos, a main couple and a smaller less important couple that we both want to see hook up, a black best friend providing both sage advice and comic relief, misunderstandings that could easily be cleared up in a matter of seconds if they stopped to think about it, and much of it hinges around a “will they-won’t they” plot that you could probably guess ends with “they will”. Branaugh can be beautifully subtle in both acting and style, but boy can he bring on the bombast whether we want it or not. In this case his over-the-top hamminess and obvious love for the material makes this outing a fun ride.

If you’re concerned that this review is going to be too highbrow compared to my usual work, there’s no need to worry. In some ways I’m on the same level as you guys. I confess that I’ve never seen any of Shakespeare’s plays performed live, I’m not very familiar with some of the language and phrasing outside of what little I remember from high school and some Youtube videos explaining select passages, and sadly my Cine-Kyle is still in the mail, but that’s never stopped me from enjoying many of the Bard’s works as seen on film (nor has it stopped me from trying to sound smarter than I really am). Once you understand the actions behind the flowery language, though, it’s pretty simple to take it from there. Never fear, I will be acting as your translator in my own unique way throughout this review.

May Review: Singin’ in the Rain

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material.)

So…Singin’ in the Rain.

Considered by critics, historians and movie buffs alike to be the greatest musical ever made.

 

Go see it.

 

 

NOW.

 

 

 

 

Seriously, what are you still doing here reading my ramblings? You’re better off spending the next hour and forty-two minutes watching the film yourself.

 

 

…well, you came this far, didn’t you?

 

I’d hate to hype up this movie too much since it already has such a lofty reputation, but I can swear a solemn oath that its reputation is one that it has well and truly earned. I count my first viewing as one of those times where I looked at a classic film and said “Yeah, bring it on,” but minutes later was completely hooked.

It all began when Arthur Freed, famed musical producer for MGM, tasked songwriters Betty Comden and Adolph Green to create a film using only well-established tunes from previous MGM musicals to show off their catalogue of hit songs.

In other words, the Greatest Movie Musical of All Time is in fact a jukebox musical.

So why is it that this movie gets all the praise (which it deserves, might I add) while films like Mamma Mia…don’t? Well for one thing, they put time and effort into crafting the story and how the songs play into it. They don’t use the elaborate musical numbers as a distraction from a wafer-thin plot or characters like some other movies I could mention.

Second, all the songs featured have become standards for a reason. Each one is an ear worm from start to finish. Though they’ve been featured in other movies, how they’re utilized here all but eclipsed their previous incarnations.

Third, it is funny. And I mean laugh-out-loud, every-line-hits-its-mark, future-screenwriters-please-watch-this-to-learn-how-to-write-good-crack-up-dialogue funny.

Fourth, let’s talk about Gene Kelly.

I have…mixed feelings when it comes to Gene Kelly and his works. Have you ever seen a movie that blew you away so much that any in the same anthology or of a similar caliber simply, for whatever reason, failed to match the same experience you had before? I’ve had that happen to me twice – once when I tried to watch the other Mad Max movies after seeing Fury Road, and again with most of Kelly’s films after Singin’ in the Rain. Kelly was an incredible dancer and choreographer; some might even say he was to dance on film the way Walt Disney was to animation. Talent and praise can go to your head if left unchecked however, and Kelly LOVED to show off his moves, even at the expense of the story. If you ever decide to play a drinking game when watching one of his movies, don’t drink whenever he stops the film just so he can dance. You won’t make to the end credits. Don’t get me wrong, I adore musicals and a good dance break is always welcome if it’s entertaining enough, but Gene indulges himself one too many times even for me. Also, if you know anything about him behind the scenes, the horror stories are sadly true. The man wasn’t a perfectionist, he was a full-blown diva. Both cast and crew lived in fear of his tantrums should one step fall out of place. Singin’ in the Rain is no exception to either of these truths, but one, you couldn’t tell by the great chemistry on screen, and two, with the exception of one or two moments, the dancing is so well integrated in the narrative that to cut any of it would be a detriment to the film. There are moments that left me slackjawed at how fluid and lively the choreography is. I can’t recall any other musical that has left me the same way regarding to that aspect.

Well, enough of my buildup, let’s look at that silver screen classic, Singin’ in the Rain.

March Review: The Wizard of Oz (1939)

Tags

1930's, cowardly lion, dorothy, Fantasy, judy garland, musical, oz, ruby slippers, scarecrow, tin man, wizard of oz

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material.)

“Toto…I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
– Dorothy Gale

In the late 1800’s, Lyman Frank Baum was a family man down on his luck and out of a job. He was a bright and creative fellow but for one reason or another could never stay employed for long. Then one day, his wife convinced him to write a story based on the ones he told his children, where ordinary people are whisked to magical lands, where men made of tin come to life, where the world is ruled by wise and powerful women (Baum’s wife and her family were suffragettes, so that was a big influence). All that was missing was a name. While going through a file cabinet Baum noticed that everything was organized from A – N and O – Z. Had Baum not payed any attention to the latter, we may never have gotten the land so surreal and imaginative as Oz.

Over one hundred years later, The Wizard of Oz is still considered America’s fairy tale. France has the works of Charles Perrault, Germany has the Brothers Grimm, England has J.M. Barrie and J.K. Rowling, and America has L. Frank Baum. The original book has no less than 52 sequels (13 of which were originally penned by L. Frank Baum), and there are numerous stage, television and film adaptations, but the most beloved of them all is the 1939 musical from MGM. In terms of popularity it has all but eclipsed the book it was based on, wonderful as it is. Heck, I didn’t learn until I was older that the film was even based on a book (because what kid actually reads the opening credits of a movie, even one they’ve seen a thousand times before they learned how to read?) But I’m not here to talk about the differences between the book and the movie (except for when they’re relevant), I’m looking at the movie itself.

Like I said before, The Wizard of Oz was one of the earliest movies I remember watching. I still have the 50th anniversary VHS and to this day I can’t watch the DVD without missing the cute Downy commercial of the kids putting on their own production of Oz that played before it. It was one of the first musicals where I had the songs almost completely memorized. I played out the story with my toys, Dorothy narrowly beat out Snow White as the character I would dress up as the most for Halloween (I would wear a pair of sparkly jelly shoes for the ruby slippers, just to give you an idea of how old I am), I saw a live version with my Girl Scout troop at Madison Square Garden starring Mickey Rooney, Eartha Kitt and Ken Page, and like with Beauty and the Beast, I would walk around with a wicker basket and act out the movie as it played on tv. As I got older I went through the whole “it’s just a dumb kid’s movie” phase that we’ve all gone through, but thankfully that didn’t last very long and it’s earned a lasting place in my favorite films collection.

Truth be told, this is going to be a hard one to cover, not only because I love this movie to pieces and know almost everything there is to know about it, but simply because what CAN you say about The Wizard of Oz that hasn’t already been said? Even if you haven’t seen it odds are you know the story and characters thanks to countless parodies, homages and plain old-fashioned pop cultural osmosis. Being a top contender for the most quoted and recognizable movie ever made didn’t come overnight, however. When it first premiered in 1939, The Wizard of Oz was something of a financial failure due to going massively over budget as well as some infamous behind-the-scenes disasters. It picked up two Oscars for its music as well as an honorary one for Judy Garland’s performance and a nomination for Best Film, but wasn’t until a few theatrical re-releases and a national tv airing of it in the 50’s that a new generation finally saw it for the classic it was destined to be.

But why does it still resonate with us almost eighty years later? Is it worth being put on a pop culture pedestal? And what’s more, can I both analyze and have some fun with it without getting burned at the stake? Let’s take a look.

October Review: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971)

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material.)

“Come with me, and we’ll be, in a world of pure imagination…”

Is it just me, or have we been losing a lot of good people this year? I thought the Beloved Celebrity Death Plagues of ’09 and ’15 were bad, but less than a few weeks after we rang in the new year it’s like 2016 looked at the entertainment world and said “Wait ’til you get a load of me!” Sad to say it’s also one of the reasons why I’m looking at this beloved classic from many a childhood this month rather than something leaning towards the horror genre  – not that I’m complaining about it, I adore this movie as much as anyone, even more so now that the man who brought the titular character to life is sadly no longer with us. Of course, if you’re one of those people who found themselves, oh, traumatized by Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory in their youth (a feeling which I too am familiar with when it comes to this movie), then this might be right up your alley.

But first, let’s talk about the man who brought us the story of Willy Wonka in the first place, Roald Dahl. You might remember his name popping up in my review of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Dahl wrote the screenplay for that movie and as silly and nonsensical as it is, even for a ’60s family musical, it’s got his trademark blur between whimsy and darkness all over it. Dahl is most famous for his children’s books, stories like “Matilda”, “The BFG”, “The Witches”, “The Twits”, “Danny Champion of the World”, and those are just the ones I can name off the top of my head. His tales often feature children as protagonists persevering through kindness, bravery and wits against foolish adults in a world that’s dark and scary, usually mixing in a naughty sense of humor for good measure. He’s mostly been compared to the Brothers Grimm in that regard, though unlike Jacob and Wilhelm he never went back and re-edited his own stories for being too dark. He knew how bleak the world could be, especially for kids who have to put up with seemingly pointless rules and the cruel people who administer them, and though he added a lot of silly rhymes and fantastical characters in the mix, he did not sugarcoat these harsh truths. Despite the umbrage you’d expect from parents and educational figures, his stories still remain some the most popular ever written for young audiences. Heck, even I still pick them up every once in a while. Appropriately, this year marks his 100th birthday, and I’m happy to say much of the literary world celebrated his legacy. Of course, his story that’s most recognized to this day, especially thanks to this movie, is “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”.

Now I know what you’re thinking. I mean “Willy Wonka”, right? His name is in the title of the movie after all. If that’s what is going through your mind then it’s time to segueway into the history part of the review. You see, the reason this movie was made in the first place was due to good old fashioned corporate American capitalism. Warner Brothers made a deal with Quaker Oats for them to create their own brand of chocolate Wonka bars and renamed the movie from Charlie to Willy Wonka to promote sales (and not because Charlie was a slur during the Vietnam War like most people believe). It didn’t help either of them in the long run as the movie didn’t do well financially and the bars melted at room temperature, resulting in a very short shelf life for both. Even though Roald Dahl penned the script for the film, much of what he wrote wasn’t used and his ideas for who should play his famous candymaker were ignored. He hated it as a result and has retained that outlook on most adaptations of his work up until his death, the one exception being the animated version of The BFG.

Willy Wonka did find a second life on tv airings and on home video, and over time has become as nearly as big a classic as The Wizard of Oz. In fact, my introduction to Willy Wonka was the first VHS release for its 25th anniversary. My younger cousin (the same one whose birthday party was my introduction to The Nightmare Before Christmas) showed it to me and I enjoyed it almost as much as he did, though we both hid in his bedroom during…that scene. Then I went through the same motions I did with several childhood favorites growing up: becoming cynical, pointing out the plotholes and making fun of it, trying act cool over…that scene while I was freaking out on the inside, all of this not helped after getting around to reading the book it was based on and finding it better especially because it didn’t have…THAT SCENE. I hoped someday a more faithful adaptation would be made, and I was both overjoyed and envious when it was announced Tim Burton would be directing a new take on the tale (envious because I hoped I’d be the one doing it, but hey, never say never).

Now I’m probably going to lose all credibility on this next statement, but I have to come out with it in order to move forward.

When I saw Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in 2005, I liked it.

…

…

…

…

Huh, that’s funny. I thought the angry mob would have show up to kick my ass.

“There she is! Kill her!”

I said, liked, LIKED! Emphasis on past tense! Can I at least continue my explanation before I get hung in town square for all to see?

“Mmmmmm…ok. We’re an angry mob, but we’re not unreasonable.”

Coming from a semi-cynical teenager teetering on the edge of becoming a Goth and adoring anything by Tim Burton, I thought the movie was a superior adaptation at the time, removing the camp, cheese and nightmare fuel while being much more faithful to the book. It managed to gain quite a following with people who felt the same way. Even Roald Dahl’s own daughter admitted he would have loved it. Over time, however, I noticed it didn’t hold up as well as my initial viewing. I had yet to learn that in adapting written works for film some changes have to be made to better fit the medium and build an emotional connection to the characters. “Charlie” was faithful in some ways, but made unnecessary additions in other places. Some of the child actors aren’t all that great and scenes that were meant to be funny in the original movie don’t come across that way in the newer one. And Johnny Depp…well, he’s being Johnny Depp. Just because it worked for Pirates of the Caribbean doesn’t mean it will work anywhere else. I still consider it a decent movie and the hate for it pretty overblown, but after giving the classic Willy Wonka another chance some years later, I have to say the 1971 version is the better version, and I will now present my case as to why.

September Review: Zootopia (2016)

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material.)

“Tell me if this sounds familiar – naive little kid with good grades and big ideals says ‘Hey look at me, I’m gonna move to Zootopia where predators and prey live in harmony and sing Kumbaya!’…Only to find, whoopsie! We don’t all get along.”

-Nick Wilde, stating the film’s premise in a nutshell

Sigh…

Have you ever had an idea for something, something you knew was right up your alley, that you could pull off spectacularly without having to rely on anyone else’s words or opinions or worry about stealing someone else’s punchlines, only to have someone with more experience and followers not only beat you to it but do it in such a way that YOU look like the copycat?

Because I did.

When I announced that I’d be going on hiatus until September and returning with a surprise movie of my own choosing, I already had a movie in mind – Disney’s latest animated hit Zootopia.

Then a short time later, Unshaved Mouse announced he would be going on hiatus and returning with Zootopia (or Zootropolis as it’s called in some countries). I’ve mentioned before he’s one of my influences, but it’s especially hard to review Disney movies because I’ve noticed we have similar tastes and opinions when it comes to them (Beauty and the Beast, Peter Pan and Chicken Little notwithstanding), and, I have to admit, Zootopia is just another one he wrote long before I could, and even better than me at that.

Yeah I’m a bit miffed that someone beat me to the punch, but there’s plenty of things to talk about when it comes to Zootopia that can’t be covered in one review, and that’s a GOOD thing! This movie should be talked about, not just by fans or Disney lovers or even furries, but people in general. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Disney openly address issues that are alarmingly relevant today in any of their films (Hunchback came close, but it wasn’t the central focus). In a climate where racism, homophobia, and misogyny is out in the open, even in my country which prides itself on being the land of the free and home of the brave, Zootopia is a film that needed to be made. It’d be easy to write it off as a cute talking animal movie (hell, the first few trailers made it look like something shipped out of Dreamworks), but because it uses the animal society as an allegory, it works wonders. This was a movie a long time in the making and it shows; not only is the storytelling tight but Disney’s long climb to make good CGI-animated films pays off in spades. The animation’s elastic and cartoony when it needs to be while staying true to each animal’s anatomy, and the designs combine the big-eyed softness of the 90’s with the aesthetics of movies like The Jungle Book and Robin Hood.

But don’t take my word for it…even though I’m the one writing the review so it is my word. How good is Zootopia?

The movie opens on a surprisingly dark note with scary music and a darkened jungle. A cute little rabbit hops through the undergrowth, unaware that it is being stalked by a savage predator just out of sight. The predator attacks in a frenzy of blood and gore!

Damn, this movie EARNS its PG rating!

No, it’s just a school play put on by a group of young animals, one that exposits the story of the world we’re in, Zootopia – over time, animals evolved from savage predator and meek prey to overcome their biological urges and live in harmony. As someone who’s watched and been in a lot of these kinds of pageants, they get the awkward acting and scene changes down perfectly. Also, providing the background music, we have the unsung hero of the movie.

Behold, the humble beginnings of Keyboard Cat.

The rabbit, Judy Hopps, tells the audience that in Zootopia, animals are free to be what they want to, and reveals that she wants to be the first bunny cop. After the show her parents (Bonnie Hunt and Don Lake) try to discourage her dreams in a way that’s both heartbreakingly honest and yet comically brutal. While they prattle on about the joys of complacency, Judy notices some of her friends’ fair tickets being stolen by local bully Gideon Gray, a Southern-accented fox with a big ego and violent streak who…

Hang on a second!

We’ll get to YOU later, you demented little munchkin.

Judy tries to stand up to Gideon but he mocks her because he’s a predator and the urge to kill is still in his DNA, while she’s just a dumb cowardly bunny. It gets surprisingly intense as he knocks her to the ground and scratches her face. He snarls at her to remember this moment when she thinks she can be anything other than what she is. Now when I heard that the first few minutes of the film would be scary for younger kids, I thought that there would be some kind of horrific accident or traumatizing death along the lines of, you know, the usual parental loss that spurs a number of Disney animated movies. I did not expect this one bit. I may have mentioned once or twice that I was bullied as a kid –

“I’ll go put Dr. Angela on standby.”

Will you get out of here?!

Anyway, though my experiences were more psychological and verbal than physical, they still run pretty deep when invoked, and this scene captures the intensity and fear of when you’re humiliated and put down at the hands of someone stronger than you.

Judy’s determination does not go unrewarded, however. She swiped the tickets from Gideon while he was monologuing and tells her friends that he was right about one thing  – she doesn’t know when to quit.

“Just ask my third grade teacher!”

“She never knew when to quit.”

Cut to an adult Judy (Ginnifer Goodwin) attending police academy and having more than a hard time working with a regimen fit for larger and more brutal animals. Through sheer willpower, the use of her own size and agility against her bigger opponents and one Mulan-worthy training montage, she graduates the top of her class. At the ceremony overseen by Mayor Lionheart (JK Simmons), we learn that Judy’s induction was part of a “mammal inclusion initiative”, not unlike Affirmative-Action programs we have in the states. Assistant Mayor Bellweather (Jenny Slate) gives her her badge and comments on how “it’s a great day for us little guys” before Lionheart pushes her away for a photo op.

“Bad guy! Bad guy! She’s the bad guy!”

Oh come on Cynicism, just because Disney did the whole third-act bad guy switcheroo for its past three movies doesn’t mean they’ll do it a fourth time. In a movie that’s as progressive as Zootopia,they wouldn’t be that repetitive, right?

“I don’t know, you’re the one who’s practicing screenwriting in between five-hour periods of Sort the Court. You should know how these things work by now.”

Anyway, Judy bids her family a fond farewell at the train where they act as all concerned parents do when their kids go off to the city and…give her a taser to keep foxes at bay. They remind her of the incident with Gideon when she was a kid, but Judy tells them that Gideon was a jerk who happened to be a fox, and she knows plenty of bunnies that are jerks (sound familiar?). Judy mollifies them by taking some fox pepper spray (seriously, I know there’s racism against other species – specism? – but who the hell gives the right to make products intended to cause harm to one particular animal in this kind of world?!) and she hops on the train that takes her out of the Bunny Boroughs to the heart of Zootopia. And what follows…my God.

July Review: The Sound of Music

“The hills are alive, with the sound of music…”

– Title Drop in the film’s opening

 

As the song goes, “Let’s start from the very beginning, a very good place to start…”

In September of 1938, Georg and Maria von Trapp, who, along with their seven children, made up the talented singing group The Von Trapp Family Singers, emigrated from Austria to America to escape the growing hostility of Hitler’s early years in power. Their story was made into a film in 1956, “The Trapp Family”, which was seen by Broadway director Vincent J. Donehue. He thought it would be the perfect vehicle for his actress friend Mary Martin and brought on Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, aka Rodgers and Hammerstein, aka the songwriting team known for “South Pacific” and “The King and I” among others, to write a couple of songs for it. Eventually R&H ended up turning the play with music into a full-out musical, and in the process created one of the most iconic and beloved shows to date. The original production won five out of its nine nominated Tonys, many of its songs have become vocal standards, and it’s enjoyed countless revivals on Broadway and the high school theater circuit (I myself was in my school’s production; despite the fact I had a good chance of playing Liesl I got the role of the housekeeper because the director liked to play favorites when casting).

Naturally the show’s success meant a film adaptation was inevitable, and much of the show’s original creative team was on board. Cancer had other plans, however, and it sadly took the life of Oscar Hammerstein shortly after the original theatrical production premiered, leaving Rodgers to re-work the music and write new songs on his own. Despite losing half of Rodgers and Hammerstein, there wasn’t much difficulty in getting the film made apart from coaxing Robert Wise – who had already directed the Oscar-winning adaptation of West Side Story and was the first choice to direct this movie – to sign on. Another first choice to play Maria was Julie Andrews, who screenwriter Ernest Lehman clamored to join immediately after seeing her in Mary Poppins. A much harder actor to get was Christopher Plummer for the role of Captain Von Trapp; he eventually agreed but only if he could work with Lehman to improve the character. Normally when an actor does this it rarely turns out well (and Plummer later admitted that he was quite arrogant at the time due to his successful stage career), but I think Plummer’s enhancements were a major improvement to Captain Von Trapp, and I’ll get into why later.

The Sound of Music is often cited by critics and theater fans in general as one of the greatest musicals of all time, and arguably the best stage-to-screen adaptations to date – and they’re not wrong. As someone who’s been in the stage version, I personally think the movie is even better (and that’s not bitterness towards the director talking). The musical numbers are iconic to the point of being parodied countless times AND most revivals of the show go out of their way to incorporate elements from the film rather than follow the show’s original book. The Hollywood Bowl in California has a sing-along with the movie every year that always sells out, Austria has a popular tour route that visits locations where the film was shot, it’s been shown annually on ABC during the holidays since 1976, and it has the unusual distinction of being Seth McFarlane’s favorite movie (then again, looking at how many times he’s referenced it on his shows, it’s no big surprise. I swear he hosted the Oscars just so he could make this joke when introducing Christopher Plummer).

So after all that buildup, how does the film hold up? Let’s find out.

 

We open on a version of the 20th Century Fox logo without the traditional fanfare. Sounds weird, huh? It’s hard to imagine it without the music that always accompanies it, but it leads into the film in a way that took Robert Wise a lot of convincing on his part to accomplish, and pays off brilliantly. The film truly begins on a montage of the Austrian countryside, starting through the clouds and flying over the mountains. I remember hating this part as a kid because there was no music and it felt like it dragged on forever. It was something I never truly appreciated until I was older, however. Slowly the film draws us into its world, showing us the majesty  and making us anticipate the  Also, thanks to the magic of blu-ray, we can hear the orchestra starting up in places like snatches of birdsong on the wind, all leading up to the film’s most iconic shot – in one long take, we pull in on a vast green hill, where a tiny lone figure climbs up and spins in rapture as we draw closer.

And the opening song…my words can do no justice. Enjoy.

 

 

 

Everything from the visuals to Julie Andrew’s beautiful voice makes it one of the greatest film openings of all time. I admit, it’s hard for me not to get a little choked up seeing it.

The sound of church bells calls Maria away and after returning for her discarded habit, she runs to the abbey. After the opening credits, we see the nuns in the abbey performing mass, and regardless of whether or not you’re religious in any capacity, this whole scene is beautifully shot. It gives you the idea of how these nuns live, showing their devotion to God through their solemnity.

After the mass, Mother Abbess (Peggy Wood) is approached by one of the sisters who is searching for Maria. Mother Abess recommends searching somewhere unusual since Maria herself is “unusual”. This leads into her and the rest of the nuns, Sister Margaretta, Berthe and Sophia (Anna Lee, Portia Nelson and Marni Nixon respectively) discussing the situation that is Maria – she is a novice hoping to take her vows, but she has a youthful enthusiasm and playfulness that is impossible to tame. Sisters Margaretta and Sophia find her antics amusing, but Sister Berte finds her immature and out of place in the abbey. The others are split, and they sing about her transgressions – her lateness for everything except supper, her honest penance but (gasp!) singing in the abbey – in “How Do You Solve a Problem Like a Maria”, a tune that’s impossible to get out of your head once you hear it. As if to prove their point, Maria herself interrupts the number by running in to wash up and sneak into the chapel, only to realize she’s been caught and skulks off.

Also, if I may, I’d like to give a shout-out to Marni Nixon. You’ve probably heard her sing in a lot of other classic musicals but have never seen her face – this is because she was hired to dub over the singing for some of the actresses. Natalie Wood in West Side Story, Deborah Kerr in The King And I, and Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady are all guilty of “stealing” her voice.

Robert Wise liked Miss Nixon enough to recognize that she could act as well as sing, and gave her a role in the film. It’s nice that after a long time of singing behind the scenes, she was able to finally do so onscreen.

April Review: The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949)

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material.)

 “If you were asked to choose the most fabulous character in English literature, who would it be?”
– Narrator #1

Well, for Halloween I reviewed a movie that involves Halloween and Christmas, and for Christmas I reviewed an Easter film, so it’s only fitting that for Easter I look at a film that features stories taking place at both Christmas AND Halloween, right?

…This blog is turning out weirder than I originally planned it.

“The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad” came at the end of the 1940’s, a turbulent time for Disney, mainly due to World War Two. Most of Walt’s animators were drafted to fight, the US Army was using the place to store equipment and they all but strongarmed whomever was left to hold a pencil into creating propaganda and training films to bolster the USA into giving the Germans and that old fickelgruber Adolph what-for! (Sorry, I tend to slip into an old-timey newsreel announcer voice when talking about the 40’s).

As such, there were many ideas for potential animated films tossed around but never fully developed due to budget and time constraints. Most of them were made into individual shorts that were packaged together to form a film, sometimes with a narrative of sorts to tie them together. There’s a good chance you’ve probably seen at least one of these shorts  on tv or on video. Remember “Peter and the Wolf”? That’s from a version of Fantasia featuring mostly contemporary tunes called “Make Mine Music”.  How about “Pecos Bill”? It’s the finale of a pseudo-sequel to the previous film titled “Melody Time”. “Mickey and the Beanstalk”? The second half of the double feature known as “Fun and Fancy Free”. The movie I’m looking at today is the very last of these aptly titled “package films” before Disney returned to the full-length fairy tale formula the following year with “Cinderella”.

Animated adaptations of both Kenneth Grahaeme’s “The Wind in the Willows” and Washington Irving’s “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” were planned by Disney as far back as the 30’s, but what made them decide to bring the two together I haven’t been able to figure out. It’s an unusual choice, but somehow it works. They’re both fine shorts on their own, but together they make a decent film that balances lighthearted fun with darker tones. Much, MUCH darker tones. Oh yes, this is one of those Disney films that’s earned its reputation for scaring generations of children, myself included.

Witch, PLEASE!

Seeing how this is the 1940’s we get our opening credits with a peppy if not particularly interesting chorus singing over it. They’re simply stating the title of the movie over and over to the tune of a song we’ll hear much later in the film. Moving on.

The movie opens in a library where I assume all the books that magically open by themselves in the opening of every classic Disney movie are kept, because both stories featured here begin and end with their respective books coming out of the shelves and doing just that while the narrators postulate on them. Either that or this is part of the Haunted Mansion’s library.

Our library is well stocked with priceless first editions, only ghost stories, of course.

Now you may have noticed before that I said narrators. That’s not a typo, there are in fact more than one narrators in this movie, and oddly enough they don’t clash with each other at some point like you’d expect. They do provide the tenuous connection between the two stories, however, that being who’s the most fascinating literary character, Ichabod or Mr. Toad? Our first narrator, none other than Sherlock Holmes himself –

Uh, no.

Closer, but still no.

God I wish.

THERE we go.

Basil Rathbone, one of the most classy and dignified actors of his time, submits to us his candidate, a toad – J. Thaddeus Toad of Kenneth Grahame’s “The Wind in the Willows” to be precise – and he begins to tell us of his exploits.

Now here’s where I have to confess something. I normally make it a point to read the original stories that certain Disney films were based on and compare the two, just for fun if anything.

As of this review, I have never actually read “The Wind in the Willows”.

…Or rather I DID try to read it, but much like The Hobbit I was bored senseless.

To be fair, I was a small kid when I discovered that book at my library, but at least with The Hobbit I made to where Bilbo meets Gollum before giving up. With Wind in the Willows I couldn’t even get past the first chapter! From what I’ve gathered Toad isn’t even the central character of the story; it’s about Mole leaving his home for the first time and meeting him and Rat and Badger and a bunch of random stuff happening to him. The part with Toad and his motor mania getting the better of him, the part that everybody remembers regardless of whether or not they’ve picked up the book? That doesn’t happen until long past the halfway point, and it isn’t the main focus of the story. And unfortunately due to my limited knowledge, you’ll have to make do without a thoroughly detailed comparison of the book and the short for this review.

Well don’t everybody celebrate all at once!

Toad (Eric Blore), the richest animal living in the countryside, is a slave to fads and always ready for an adventure regardless of the cost. His wanton ways attract many fair-weather friends, but the three closest to him are the frugal Angus McBadger –

Get it? He’s Scottish so he’s a pennypincher! They don’t do humor like they did the 40’s anymore…and I’m glad.

– the kind and gentle Mole –

– who I swear they just recolored yellow and gave him a red t-shirt and Sterling Holloway’s voice when they made Winnie the Pooh, Still, really cute though.

– and a water rat simply called Rat, which always confused me because he looks nothing like a rat.

This is a rat.

These are rats.

And this is a rat (despite what he wants you to think).

THIS is Basil of Baker Street’s country cousin, but no less uptight.

In the middle of afternoon tea, Rat receives a letter from a postman – a human postman. A human postman that’s drawn to the real-life scale of an actual human. This is another thing I find strange about The Wind in the Willows; in nearly all the adaptations, the animals act and wear clothes like humans but retain their natural size and co-habit the world with human beings and nobody questions it.  Am I the only one who found this weird?

Then again, this does take place in England, the one country where nobody seems to give a damn about unusual happenings, no matter how fantastical. Polite marmalade-eating bear taking up residence with a family of four? How quaint. Werewolves running around the park? It’s only some hooligans causing trouble. Young virgins losing blood after the eccentric foreign count moves in next door? Nothing odd going on here. Flying cars and kids disappearing into train platforms carrying owls and magic wands? Just your average Monday. I’m surprised that none of these films have had weather forecasts that go like this –

“Good morning Little Hangleton! Today we have our usual torrential downpour, though it should clear up by the afternoon and leave the rest of the day partly cloudy with a chance of nannies. Now over to Wayne for sports.”

March Review: Darby O’Gill and the Little People (1959)

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material.)

 “You can forget the tears an’ troubles of the world outside. There’s nothin’ but fun and diversion here!”

– King Brian Connors of Knocknasheega

Ah, back to Disney already.

 

You know, it’s around this weekend every March that’s a treasured time for me and my family; a time where we can gather around and indulge in some of our cultural heritage, maybe enjoy a nice dinner of corned beef and cabbage, all while worshiping a beloved patriarchal saint…

 

That’s right.

 

HAPPY SAINT JOSEPH’S DAY!!

 

What? I’m Italian from my father’s side. While others go out in green, I stay at home and enjoy some nice homemade pastries with my family. It’s not like there’s any other holiday revolving around a saint that involves getting plastered in the name of nationality.

Oh, wait…

 

Going back to what I said in my previous review, we’re inundated by so much Disney in the media, particularly from their animated films, that we often forget their value. Just as often, there are great films by Disney that tend to fall by the wayside and be eclipsed by more recent and popular movies.

Darby O’Gill and the Little People is one of them.

Made during Walt Disney’s time, Darby O’Gill, based on the stories by Herminie Templeton Kavanagh, is an amalgamation of Irish folklore and classic Disney moviemaking magic. It’s got that Uncle Walt touch that mixes in a lot of bright, happy moments with plenty of dark, scary ones, as well as some old-fashioned charm emanating from its actors and its production design. There’s a lot of effort put into making you believe you’re in a village among the green hills of Ireland that you forget that it’s filmed in a backlot in sunny California. Plenty of research was done in presenting these classic myths and it shows (there are moments when the actors even speak real ancient Gaelic). And I’ll go into more detail about the special effects once I get to them because for a movie well over fifty years old, they still hold up surprisingly well –

Um, mostly well.

Also, this one of the few live-action Disney movies to have a Rotten Tomatoes score of 100%. I don’t normally go to Rotten Tomatoes to judge the quality of a film, but it always warms my heart to see a movie that doesn’t get enough love have such a high score.

And what else can this movie offer to sweeten the deal?

“Connery. SEAN Connery.”

Let’s roll.

 

The film opens with a special thanks from Walt Disney to King Brian of the Leprechauns for making his cooperation in making the film. It might seem odd, but remember, this is Walt Disney. He wanted to make his films, as fantastical as they were, seem as real as possible. When filming the Wonderful World of Disney episode meant to promote the film, “I Captured the King of the Leprechauns”, he played up his encounters with King Brian and Darby as an actual event. It might come off as cheesy to some, but that was Walt’s secret; he could make anything seem possible.

Darby O’Gill (Albert Sharpe) is the caretaker of the wealthy Lord Fitzpatrick’s estate, but he’s getting on in years. More often than not, he can found at the pub telling tales of his encounters with the titular little people – better known as leprechauns to us non-Irish folk – rather than hard at work. Darby has a daughter, Katie (Janet Munro), who’s something of the town catch, if not for her sweet girl-next-door looks then for the privilege she has of living on a fine estate. Katie, however, isn’t interested in finding a man just yet, preferring to taking care of the house and her father.

Katie is visited by the Widow Sugrue, a nosy busybody who’s hoping to make a match between Katie and her son Pony. Lord Fitzpatrick pays a surprise visit accompanied by one Michael McBride (Sean Connery) and Katie runs out to find her father. Sure enough, he’s at the local watering hole telling anyone who would listen about meeting the king of the leprechauns himself, Brian Connors.

THERE’S the image I should have used before.

The movie makes excellent use of perspective shots and angles when it comes to the leprechauns and humans sharing the screen. I wouldn’t be surprised if Peter Jackson was influenced by this just a bit when making Lord of the Rings.

In his story, Darby has King Brian cornered in the old Gaelic ruins of Knocknasheega outside of town. Darby, who’s been chasing the fair folk around for a good portion of his life hoping to get some of their fabulous wealth for himself, is one step ahead of Brian when it comes to any tricks he might pull to escape, and insists Brian grant him three wishes before he releases him (because leprechauns and genies are the same thing?)

Seems legit.

Brian grants Darby’s wishes for a pot of gold, a long healthy life and a good crop of potatoes that year (because this movie won’t rest until we see almost every Irish stereotype in existence. No, seriously, take a shot every time one pops up throughout the review). And then Brian asks what Darby’s fourth wish will be because apparently he can grant extra wishes if he feels like it. Darby, who’s in a generous mood, asks for some of his neighbors to be given a pot of gold as well. Darby’s gold vanishes before his very eyes, because as Brian says “Three wishes I’ll grant you, big wishes and small, but wish a fourth wish, and you’ll lose them all!” and he disappears.

The people in the pub are enraptured by the story, except for Pony. Pony’s a bullying brute who loves getting drunk at the bar, starting fights to make himself feel more macho, and dismisses this old man’s story as fairy-tale nonsense and WAIT JUST A DARN MINUTE –

Am…am I reviewing the same movie twice in a row?

February Review: Beauty and the Beast (1991)

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material.)

“…For who could ever learn to love a beast?”

-Opening narration

All right, let me level with you –

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love Beauty and the Beast, and you can only imagine how much I’ve been looking forward to reviewing it. Beauty and the Beast was one of the very first Disney movies I ever saw; hell, it was one of the first movies I ever saw (my mom goes back and forth on whether or not this or a re-release of 101 Dalmatians was my first moviegoing experience). It was also my first Broadway musical, my first Disney on Ice show, I would walk around the basement with a decorative wicker basket acting the part of Belle while the movie played in the family VCR, you get the idea. It’s a movie that was a big part of my childhood as well as my adulthood. This is tied with Fantasia as my favorite Disney movie, and depending on my mood it jockeys between that and one other movie that I’m keeping secret as my favorite film of all time.

…Which means it’s going to be VERY hard for me to give it a fair and unbiased review.

All nostalgia and fan gushing aside though, it would be easy to say that the stars were aligned from the very beginning and the experience of crafting such a masterpiece was lightning in a bottle, but nothing could be further from the truth. Production on Beauty and the Beast went as far back as Walt Disney’s time; however, he and his best story men had a difficult time working out the kinks in the second act. For anyone not familiar with the original fairy tale this is based on, most of the story is just Belle and the Beast having dinner together every night with him asking her to marry him over and over, which doesn’t make for a compelling film. Jean Cocteau’s adaptation got around that by focusing more on atmosphere and mood and inner conflict, but as much as I enjoy his take, I still don’t quite buy his couple’s relationship. Their love is the heart of this story, and if you can’t be invested in their romance, then the film falls flat.

Disney dropped the idea and it wasn’t glanced at again until the new regime that would be responsible for the Disney Renaissance in the 90’s came in. They started flipping through the archives for potential new films and came across this one. Jeffrey Katzenburg commissioned British animator Richard Purdhum to storyboard and direct an early version of the film but wasn’t a big fan of what he came up with, mostly because it was too similar to Cocteau’s.

And then, like two musical angels descending from on high, THEY entered the picture.

If you have no idea who these men are, get down on your knees and kiss their toes thou quivering infidel, for they are responsible for your childhoods!!

Composer Alan Menken and lyricist Howard Ashman, fresh off their Oscar-winning hit The Little Mermaid, were brought on board to liven things up and turn this dreary set of drawings into an animated musical fit for Broadway (of course, neither of them would know at the time that this movie would eventually become a stage musical, but it’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it?) Richard Purdhum was given the boot and the director’s reins were handed over to Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise, whose only directing experience at the time was an animated pre-show for Cranium Command, an animatronics show at Epcot. What’s more, The Little Mermaid’s success prompted the studio executives to announce that there would be one new animated film released every year, which meant nearly every animator, storyboard artist, effect/layout/background/etc. artist had to kick it into high gear to get this movie done on time.

Now it’s hard to give all the credit of the film’s success to just one person since there were so many who labored on it, but if I had to, I’d have to say Howard Ashman was the one who contributed the most into shaping it into the movie we have today. Howard was a lifelong Disney fan with a great musical background (his most well-known contribution to theater being the most beloved musical in existence about a flesh-eating plant based on a Roger Corman film) but knew that animation was his true calling. He leaped at the chance of helping shape an animated film, and you need only look at the bonus features on The Little Mermaid DVD where they discuss him to see how much his ideas and words and even vocal inflections influenced the actors and animators. Beauty and the Beast is no exception. He was the one who suggested the formerly mute enchanted objects should be given voices. He was the one who turned Gaston from aristocratic fop to comically masculine but homicidal hunter. He was the one who said the story should be the Beast’s journey to humanity as well as Belle’s journey to love (and if you haven’t seen Waking Sleeping Beauty then why the hell are you reading this go watch it now there’s only three words I can say: “little Beast boy”.)

The results did not go unrewarded. As much as we get oversaturated with so much Disney in the media today, whether it’s memes, god-awful direct-to-video sequels, and toy brands that suck any heart or meaning from the movies they originated from, we forget how great some of their movies are, especially upon their release. A rough cut of the film mixing storyboards and unfinished animation that was shown at the New York Film Festival was met with nearly twenty minutes of standing ovation when it was done. It won the Golden Globe for Best Picture-Musical/Comedy (and this was before they made a separate category for animation) and was the first animated film to be nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards. It came surprisingly close to winning but lost to The Silence of the Lambs, which could also be considered a Beauty and the Beast tale…of sorts, and after finally seeing that movie after years of griping that Beauty and the Beast should have won…

…nope. Sorry-not-sorry. Great film, but Beauty and the Beast is still better. Shows how little you know about animation, Hollywood.

And seeing as how I’m over a thousand words in and have yet to actually review the film itself, it’s best we finally get started.

October Review: The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

(DISCLAIMER: This blog is not for profit. All images and footage used below are property of their respective companies unless stated otherwise. I do not claim ownership of this material.)

“Twas a long time ago,

Longer now than it seems

In a place that perhaps you’ve seen in your dreams

For the story that you are about to be told

Took place in the holiday worlds of old.

Now you’ve probably wondered where holidays come from.

If you haven’t, I’d say it’s time you’d begun…”

– Opening narration

The Nightmare Before Christmas is a movie that I’ve always had a personal connection to. It was released when I was just a child, but I can still remember seeing ads and toys for it in certain places and being oddly fascinated by it, despite the fact that it had ghosts and skeletons and monsters and other such things that would usually scare the bejeezus out of me at that age. I can still remember my first time ever seeing the movie – not in theaters, but at my cousin’s third birthday party. He was a year younger than me, and on his birthday that year, all us kids gathered in the basement of his house and watched this movie in the dark. Whether there were any adults there to supervise us I can’t say, but I can say that I was enraptured by every second of it. I can vaguely remember some of the other children being a little afraid, but I wasn’t (well, maybe for two parts, but those were rather quick moments that didn’t traumatize me as much as you might think). Up until then I had never seen anything like The Nightmare Before Christmas; it was dark but not gruesome, lighthearted without being sappy, humorous, heartwarming, and the visuals and the music stayed in my head long afterwards.

I remember really enjoying it, but a long time passed between that one viewing and the next time I would see it again. For whatever reason, maybe they thought I would be too scared by it, my parents never bought the movie for me. It wasn’t until I was about thirteen or fourteen that I caught it on HBO one day, and all those memories of watching it through the eyes of a child came flooding back. I became obsessed with The Nightmare Before Christmas big time, watching it and listening to the soundtrack even when it wasn’t Halloween or Christmas, learning all I could about the movie via books and dvd bonus features, and yes, making fanart of the characters. It was my gateway to the dark and quirky world of Tim Burton, and seeing as how I was also going through an angry, rebellious, anti-Rankin-Bass phase as a teenager, I embraced this movie with open arms while my family looked on with something that wasn’t quite disgust and wasn’t quite confusion.

And for the record, this was BEFORE this chain got their sticky fingerless gloves all over it and slapped the characters’ faces on everything they could sell, freakin’ posers.

So you may be wondering what the story behind this odd little film is. Well, back in the 80’s Tim Burton worked for Disney as an animator. Yes, the Man of Merry Macabre once worked for the bright and squeaky-clean House of Mouse. I still have a hard time believing it (What Alice in Wonderland movie? Disney only made one Wonderland film and it was animated, silly!) Burton’s time at Disney wasn’t a happy one as most of his ideas were shot down for being too dark and different and he wasn’t too keen on drawing only cutesy animals for a living.

One day, while walking down a street, he came across a window display in a store having its Halloween decorations switched out with Christmas ones and inspiration struck. He wrote a poem based on the classic holiday tome “The Night Before Christmas” showing what happened when two holidays collided. Initially he pitched it as a half-hour stop-motion special, ironically in the style of Rankin-Bass, and he wanted it to be narrated by his idol, Vincent Price. Disney, however, wasn’t interested, and Burton would eventually leave the studio. It wasn’t until after he achieved popularity with “Beetlejuice” and “Batman” that Disney approached him with the idea of turning The Nightmare Before Christmas into a movie. Burton was all for it, but couldn’t direct it himself due to his commitment to filming “Batman Returns”. Instead, he got stop-motion artist Henry Selick to direct it.

Now I’d like to clarify something right away – this is a Tim Burton movie through and through; his name and signature style may be all over this film (heck, the title of the film is preceded by Burton’s name just to remind you whose brainchild it was), but I cannot give enough credit to Henry Selick. The man is a genius of stop-motion; his name is up there with Ray Harryhausen and Nick Park as the best in the business. People often assume that because it’s a Burton film with his name in the title that Tim Burton directed it, but it’s not. Selick did an amazing job with this movie and I’m happy to say it’s led to a very fruitful career for him, directing other stop-motion greats such as James and the Giant Peach and Coraline. Even though there have been innovations in animation since then, this film looks just as great today as it did twenty years ago. So while the story and characters are pure Tim Burton, this movie is just as much Henry Selick’s as it is Tim’s. You’ll see why when I finally get around to reviewing it…

…which is now.

We open in the middle of a forest, where, in a clearing, there is a circle of trees, each one with a door representing a different holiday – an egg for Easter, a heart for Valentine’s Day, a clover for St. Patrick’s Day, a Christmas tree for Christmas, a turkey for Thanksgiving, a jack-o-lantern for Halloween, and one which for years I was unsure was either a firecracker for 4th of July or a dreidel for Hanukkah. We can only imagine how this film would have turned out if it was “The Nightmare Before Hanukkah” instead of Christmas.

Anyway, as the opening narration wraps up, we enter the jack-o-lantern door and we get our first musical number “This is Halloween.”

Oh, and did I forget to mention that longtime Tim Burton collaborator and former Oingo Boingo frontman Danny Elfman did the music for this movie? How foolish of me. How could it have possibly slipped my mind when this music is OHMYGOSHUNBELIVABLYAWESOMEANDBEAUTIFULANDBLAAAAAAGHHHH –

…

…

Uh, can I pay you to pretend that didn’t just happen?