Too Bad She's Bad (Alessandro Blasetti, 1954) B+

A hilarious Italian screwball comedy starring Sophia Loren as the Hawksian motormouth, Marcello Mastroianni as the befuddled Cary Grant-type and Vittorio De Sica as the Charles Coburn screwy father. Too Bad She's Bad is the type of the film don't make anymore and even then it was rare to find a decent one. Judging by the other works I've seen of the main actors (Loren and De Sica with Two Women and Mastroianni as a muse of Fellini), it was strange to find them excelling so well at the break-neck pace of this film. Loren could match Kate Hepburn at her Bringing Up Baby peak and Mastroianni has the ability to still look masculine even while being walked all over by Loren. The chemistry between the two is undeniable and no doubt further cemented their fame together and separately.

The Bucket List (Rob Reiner, 2007) F

Sometimes I should listen to my instincts and not let anyone persuade me otherwise. I was going to skip this geriatric death comedy, despite my love of Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, but my mom guilted me into watching it with her. Living with that guilt would have been more bearable than this film. In The Bucket List, Nicholson and Freeman play two dying men who decide to really live life in their final days. Watching this, I couldn't believe that this was made by the same guy who did This is Spinal Tap 20 years ago. There was absolutely no personality, jokes or taste to be had in either the bland writing or colorless direction. The Bucket List was just a major downer from the beginning right up until the end. I know it was supposed to be sad, but none of the "jokes" distracted from the knowledge that they were going to die in the end. What's even more disappointing are the performances from Nicholson (who's playing "Crazy Jack" once again) and Freeman (who's playing the "Wise Black Man" yet again) which offer nothing.

'Round Midnight (Bertrand Travernier, 1986) C

'Round Midnight is one of the strangest films I have ever seen that was nominated for a major Oscar (Best Actor in this case). Director Bertrand Travernier is more concerned with the music of fictional jazz legend Dale Turner (played by real-life jazz legend Dexter Gordon) than in the main plot concerning Turner's alcoholism or his friendship with longtime fan Francis Borler (François Cluzet). I guess this film would be a lot more interesting if you enjoyed jazz music, but since I don't (I prefer classical saxophone myself) I found most of the music sections dreadfully boring. The mood and atmosphere of 'Round Midnight are rather interesting, but they alone can't make a whole film, and with such a flimsy story supporting everything the film falls apart. Dexter Gordon's nomination really perplexes me because all this performance has going for him is his saxophone playing, raspy voice and the alcoholism (which the Academy loves almost as much as hookers with a heart of gold). That's seriously all Gordon has to go on, so by the two hour mark you are just exasperated at the shallowness of this performance. It's certainly not the worst Best Actor nominated performance, but it's not one that I would like to see imitated. Thank God for Cluzet's hero-worshiping Francis, which keeps the film moving and, at times, manages to make Gordon look good.

Shanghai Express (Josef von Sternberg, 1932) B- (x2)

The story and acting in Shanghai Express could have been better, but the real stars here are the gorgeous visuals and Marlene Dietrich glorious face. Cinematographer Lee Garmes won an Oscar for his efforts and I must say that it was well deserved; Shanghai Express looks nothing like any other American picture produced around the same time. Garmes' look is much more visually appealing and dreamlike than anything you would have seen at Warners (whose films tended to look gritty and "realistic") or MGM (which, in comparison, look cheap and unimaginative). He also shoots Dietrich's face in the loveliest way I have ever seen in any one of her films. Her acting, on the other hand, leaves something to be desired. Towards the middle she eases into the performance, but in the beginning and end there's a strange disconnect between her line readings, her vocal intonations and her facial expressions. Something doesn't quite add up and it definitely shows.

Vagabond (Agnès Varda, 1985) D

Agnès Varda's Vagabond tells the story of a young woman named Mona (Sandrine Bonnaire) who roams all around France one winter, trying to find herself or some bullshit garbage like that. I'm sorry, but I'm sick and tired of these films that try to turn selfish, idiotic young brats who run away from their life looking for "freedom" into heroes that we should all strive to be more like. Into the Wild's constant reminders were bad enough, but in Vagabond it's never ending, even though I don't really understand why we should be cheering Mona on. She's a selfish, lazy cunt without an ounce of worth in her body. You know, I could see why people might want her around if she was a great conversationalist or something, but she's also the least interesting person on the planet. I've had more fascinating conversations with my friend's dog than anything that happens between Mona and any of the many minor characters that appear in Vagabond. To top it all off, Vagabond is one of the most boring films I've seen in a while. I wanted to turn it off 30 minutes in when we started randomly following characters who bore little relevance to the plot and Bonnaire's Mona started to get on my nerves. It's such a shame that Varda made this stinker because her earlier Cleo de 5 a 7 really fascinated me and had me looking forward to Vagabond.

Story of Women (Claude Chabrol, 1988) B+

A fascinating film about an abortionist (Isabelle Huppert) who is guillotined during the Nazi occupation of France, not necessarily because of the seriousness of the crime but more as a way to set a moral example for the rest of the country. On the surface, Story of Women may seem to have a lot in common with Mike Leigh's Vera Drake, but all similarities end with the abortion issue. While Vera Drake focused on getting women abortions for safety's seek, Marie in Story of Women is only concerned with the wealth that comes from doing the procedure. In fact, Marie is generally an awful person (she's selfish, a lousy wife and a loving but not attentive mother) from the start to the end. Even when she learns about a patient of hers that she may have killed she seems rather unfazed by the news. Story of Women won't convert anyone one way or another on the abortion issue in the way that I suspect Vera Drake was meant to do, but it's a poignant and compelling drama well worth the time.

Three Days of the Condor (Sydney Pollack, 1975) D+

One sub-genre that I simply don't understand, no matter how hard I try, is the 70's conspiracy thriller. The China Syndrome is merely meh, Klute, Fonda's performance aside, is flimsy at best and The Conversation is simply one of the most overrated movies ever. With my prejudices out in the open, let me just tell you why I also didn't enjoy Sydney Pollack's Three Days of the Condor. One of the thing that gets me about thrillers post-Hitchcock is that they generally aren't thrilling and Condor is no exception. We are given no clues throughout the film, such as, maybe, a plot to assassinate someone that's uncovered, as to why the bad guys want Redford's character dead. They simply chase him around and force him to fend for his life. When we are given an explanation at the end, it comes out of left field and makes absolutely no sense. It plays out like the screenwriter wrote a couple of options on a dartboard and threw a dart to see which one to pick. Another problem with Three Days of the Condor is the major miscasting of the leads. Just because you put glasses on Robert Redford, it doesn't mean he's instantly become some bookworm. For Condor to have made any sense, they should have casted someone who actually looks brainy and would have a hard time getting out of these situations. With Redford, it looks too easy and the story doesn't make sense. My beloved Faye Dunaway is also miscast in her role as a woman who Redford forcefully captures. She's too high strung and forceful to play a captive convincingly.

Wuthering Heights (William Wyler, 1939) C (x2)

For being considered one of the most romantic movies not only of the 1930's but ever, it's surprising that the main characters of Wuthering Heights- stableboy Heathcliff (Laurence Olivier) and wannabe society lady Cathy (Merle Oberon)- are such incredibly awful people. Not only are they incredibly cold, but they do such incredibly awful things to the people around them, consequently destroying their lives as well, without any regards for anyone else's feelings. Olivier, I believe, understands how to make Heathcliff's coldness sexy and alluring (easy enough considering Oliver was never the was the most personable actor). Through him, we understand what draws Cathy toward him. On the other hand, Oberon is a complete and utter mess as Cathy. Then again, the schizophrenic screenplay by the usually reliable Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur, really doesn't do her any favors. In one scene, she goes from loving Heathcliff, to cutting him down to size in front of romantic interest Edgar (David Niven), then berating Edgar for speaking poorly about Heathcliff and then falling in love with Heathcliff again. Keep in mind this takes place in the matter of about 90 seconds. Even Scarlett O'Hara was more consistent. Oberon isn't a good enough actress to connect these emotions together to make them the least bit logical. Instead, we are left with a soulless portrayal of a potentially interesting character. From the beginning to the end, I had no idea who Cathy was. She appears, says some lines, goes through the motions, but she's as hollow as a chocolate Easter bunny. Geraldine Fitzgerald, as Edgar's sister Isabella, was nominated for an Oscar but I can't see why besides the fact that she was a respected stage actress and Wuthering Heights was enormously popular in 1939. She's not bad by any means (especially when contrasted with Oberon) but it's not the type of performance to write home about. Fitzgerald has some good moments- most notably the scene where she gets slapped around by Oberon- but they don't add up to a complete performance.

Stolen Kisses (François Truffaut, 1968) A- (x2)

Film Rant here.

The Singer Not the Song (Roy Ward Baker, 1961) D

The Singer Not the Song starts off interestingly, with a classic good versus evil plotline between a moralistic priest (John Mills) and the murderous leader of a small Mexican village (Dirk Bogarde). Mills tries to stop Bogarde's alphabetical killings, but Bogarde pretty much laughs in his face and tries twice to kill him. The tension mounts for an hour until circumstance arise in which Bogarde shoots one of his own men to stop him from killing Mills, but, even after the priest protests, the sheriff runs Bogarde out of town. Then, for the next hour, we are introduced to this ridiculous love triangle that involves Bogarde, Mills and a beautiful villager. It wouldn't be so bad if this had been hinted at at some point in the first hour, but it seems almost tacked on to make this film feature length. Needless to say, the rest of the film is a complete mess, nearly dropping the original good vs. evil plot to cater to the melodramatic love story. My pretend boyfriend Dirk Bogarde, however, rises above this crap and delivers a performance that's totally boss. Ben Foster must have been taking notes on this film when preparing for 3:10 to Yuma, because there are a lot of similarities between the two performances: the rock star clothing and swagger, generally badass line deliveries and, above all, the homoeroticism. Bogarde is the only thing that keeps The Singer Not the Song moving long after I've finished giving a crap about it.