Vicky Cristina Barcelona (Woody Allen, 2008) C

My rants here.

Pineapple Express (David Gordon Green, 2008) B+

A stoner comedy that is actually funny (unlike those old Cheech and Chong movies) and doesn't make you ashamed that you laughed so much (unlike Half Baked)- who knew it was possible? The plot is one of those ridiculous, only-in-the-movies types that probably wouldn't make much sense written down but completely works onscreen. The climactic fight at the weed processing plant was nearly as dramatic as the epic battle in Kill Bill Volume 1 (and just as improbable). I'm glad for the unusual casting of Rosie Perez as the bad cop, excelling at whatever comedic scraps she is thrown, and Seth Rogen is somehow still funny doing his fat schlub shtick, but the movie completely and utterly belongs to James Franco as Rogen's perpetually high-in-the-sky dealer. In a million years I never would have figured that this pretty but bland leading man in shit like Annapolis and Flyboys could deliver a performance this consistently funny and out there all while remaining perfectly true to the character. If Oscar went for comedic performances, this would be the hands down favorite as of right now.

The Savages (Tamara Jenkins, 2007) B

The Savages is not exactly the dark, dysfunctional family comedy that it was advertised to be, but I still found Tamara Jenkins' film to be, for the most part, worth the effort. The film is smarter than most dysfunctional family comedies because it doesn't have improbably snappy and witty dialogue and the relationship between Wendy (The Lovely Laura Linney) and her brother Jon (Philip Seymour Hoffman) feels completely natural and realistic. There's this wonderful scene that takes place towards the end of the film that I just can't get out of my head a couple of weeks later. The father (Philip Bosco) has just died and Wendy and Jon are standing over his body, not really sure how to react. Finally, Wendy speaks up and, in a tone somewhere between a declaration and a question, says, "This is it." The moment is so quiet and subtle that it's easy to forget, but I think it points out the major strengths of this film. I would love to rate this film higher, but there were just a few moments throughout the entire length that really dragged the film down and made it feel a tad bit too long. Still, a fantastic job from Jenkins, someone I will definitely be looking out for in the future.

Prom Night (Nelson McCormick, 2008) F/Bug (William Friedkin, 2007) B+

My thoughts here.

The Big Knife (Robert Aldrich, 1955) B-

For what it's worth, I don't think there's another director (besides Sirk in The Tarnished Angels) who used black and white photography in such ways like Robert Aldrich did with both Autumn Leaves and this film. The contrast is crisp and clear and ultimately beautiful to look at. I wish the same could be said about the film. The Big Knife is a solid picture and there are hints at what could have been in some of the performances (Jean Hagen and Shelley Winters do what they can with underwritten roles). The biggest problem with this film is that the screenplay acts like its some sort of formal authority about life in the 50's, "The Great American Screenplay," when in all actuality it's nowhere near as interesting or damning as it thinks it is. We learn from this film that studio chiefs are ruthless, cold people who will do whatever it takes to keep their stars in line and get the most money out of money. Even then, that wasn't exactly the most original thought in the world (The Bad and the Beautiful had been released three years previously) and I wish there had been some more creativity with its intentions.

The Barkleys of Broadway (Charles Walters, 1949) B- (x2)

I never thought I would ever find the occasion or need to re-screen this film, but Nick at Nick's Flick Picks had been praising Ginger Rogers to high heavens for her performance here, going so far as to say that she should have won the Oscar for it. I saw this movie a few years ago and I thought it was your average Astaire-Rogers vehicle with the same type of performance from Ginger Rogers that we had been getting since the 30's. On this viewing, I discovered the beauty of this performance and how it wasn't just another Rogers' performance. Ten years after the last Astaire-Rogers vehicle, Ginger came roaring back in with style and class. The role combines the best attributes of Rogers' previous Oscar-worthy work (the dancing and personality in Top Hat and the comedic chops from Stage Door) and showcases her in a way we had never seen before. My favorite scene is at the art gallery when the pretentious art is showcasing his new piece dedicated to the Barkleys and she gives these hilarious and subtle sideways glances to Astaire when the artist calls her the pancake batter. It could have been overdone, but Rogers finds a nice middle ground. As for the rest of the film, its generally pretty good, if a bit clumsily done. The musical numbers are great, especially the magical rehearsal scene where Astaire and Rogers simply tap dance together and remind us of how great they were together, but, in the context of the story, they really added nothing to the plot (even the "Top Hat, White Tails and Cane" number in Top Hat had a little purpose).

The Bad Sleep Well (Akira Kurosawa, 1960) B+

For me, Kurosawa is one of the those directors who makes engrossing, thoroughly fascinating films that are always worth look, but there's just something about them that I can't "love" them in that special way that you're supposed to love your favorites. The Bad Sleep Well, I must say, is another one of those films. As a mystery/suspense film, it's a notch lower than High and Low; however, The Bad Sleep Well has a certain allusiveness that kept me involved in the plot even when things slowed down a bit. And the downbeat, cynical ending was a welcome surprise. All in all though, like most Kurosawa films, this is one I don't think I'll ever need to see again.

Never Back Down (Jeff Wadlow, 2008) C

My random and distracted thoughts here.

The Girl Said No (Sam Wood, 1930) F

When you head into a William Haines picture, you almost always know what to expect. Haines always plays a cocky young fellow (usually an athlete, but not here) who falls in love with someone else's girl and then tries to woo her, all while learning a lesson about humility, during the rest of the picture. In The Girl Said No, we get all that but I was horribly offended and disgusted (and I don't do that easily) by Haines' character's treatment of the girl he chases after. She really does say, "No," quite emphatically, and when he doesn't listen and continues to pursue her, it takes on the form of rape and I definitely don't need to see that. Add to that the scene where Haines puts a bag over the girls head and kidnaps her away from her wedding and I nearly felt like vomiting. Haines' characters are usually cads, but they have a redeeming factor that makes up for it in the end; here, Haines is a complete prick the whole way through and still manages to get whatever he wants. The Girl Said No is a relic of a type of film that's better left in the past and with no redeeming factors to unearth it.

An Unfinished Life (Lasse Hallstrom, 2005) C

With such a talented, and eccentric, cast that Hallstrom has brought together for An Unfinished Life, it's such a shame that there's nothing really noteworthy about the entire picture. In fact, An Unfinished Life is so one-note and ordinary that I can't even think of anything to say about it, positively or negatively. The performances are decent, if a little disappointing since we've all seen the three leads (J. Lo, Robert Redford and Morgan Freeman) in better and more interesting roles/performances (and it's especially disheartening from J. Lo, since earlier that same year we had just seen her give her funniest/most relaxed performance since Selena in Monster in Law). The film looks nice, if a tad Hallmark-generic, and the script is your everyday, run-of-the-mill, disconnected family drama but doesn't turn into complete junk with an overly sappy conclusion. In the end, An Unfinished Life is a film that you will walk out of not exclaiming that your life has been changed or wanting the two hours you just wasted watching it back; instead, you'll get up, scratch yourself and wonder what's for dinner.

Jeanne Eagels (George Sidney, 1957) C-

Jeanne Eagels is nothing more than your average completely falsified 50's star biopic in which its only resemblance to reality is the name of the star and a couple of the plays/movies they did in their ascension to stardom. George Sidney is a competent director and makes everything go down rather smoothly, even when it probably shouldn't have, and the finale couple of scenes, highlight Eagels' descent into "alcholism" (she was a heroin addict in real life) surrealy and rather frighteningly. The main weakness in this film is Kim Novak, who plays Eagels. She isn't a good enough actress to make the Jeanne an interesting person outside of her addiction and her drunk scenes were so bad that I wasn't sure if she was being serious or not. She slurs her words so pronouncedly and overacts over drunken gesture that all I could think was that I've seen high schoolers deliver drunk scenes more believable.

Pickup on South Street (Samuel Fuller, 1953) A

My thoughts here.

The Last Metro (Francois Truffaut, 1981) C

There's a scene in The Last Metro in which the character of Jean-Loup Cottins, a theatre director, is discussing with the Nazi sympathizing theatre critic Daxiat about his latest play, Disappearance, and Daxiat tells him, something to the effect of, "This wasn't your best work...I couldn't see any of your direction in it." It's funny, because the same could be said to Truffaut about this film. For me, the whole film just felt completely flat and seemed entirely predictable 15 minutes in. Catherine Deneuve, with her ice cold personality, was used to great effect here but I was completely flummoxed by the casting of Gerard Depardieu as the womanizing actor who does a little moonlighting for the resistance. Maybe it's just because I love the way Truffaut works with him, but I kept wondering how Jean-Pierre Leaud would have faired in the role. I'll admit that he would have probably gotten eaten alive by Deneuve-- it's hard not to with an actress as dominating and fierce as she is-- but those early scenes in which the character is trying to pick up women on the street and in the theatre seem almost written for Leaud in mind. Depardieu is fine in the role, I'll give him that. I just wasn't wowed by him or anything. Of the many Truffaut films I've seen, this is by far his weakest (and somewhat ironic since this was his last big hit in France and probably last widely known film). Truffaut on a bad day, however, is 10 times more interesting than most directors at their very best.

Barbara Stanwyck Double Feature: Night Nurse (William Wellman, 1931) B/You Belong to Me (Wesley Ruggles, 1941) C+

Night Nurse and You Belong to Me are two very different types of films from two completely different time periods but have one common link: Barbara Stanwyck. Night Nurse is the better of the two and is actually one of the better Pre-Code films I have due to the fact that it has more going for it than raciness (like good acting and a decent, involving storyline). Stanwyck starts training as a nurse and one night she befriends a shot bootlegger who she doesn't write a mandatory report on. After she completes her training, she starts working at a household with two sick children, a drunken alcoholic mother, a crooked doctor and a scheming chauffeur. She uncovers a dirty secret and its up to her to prevent the death of the children. Night Nurse isn't perfect-- the beginning is filled with a little too much superfluous scenes that didn't add anything-- but it's undeniably sexy and quite a fun, racy time. You Belong to Me has the makings of a good romantic comedy-- a silly Henry Fonda performance, an unconventional (for the time) look at gender roles-- but is ultimate marred by the standards of the time. The only way Barbara Stanwyck believes that her marriage will work is that if she gives up her doctor practice, all of her dreams and goals and stays at home to take care of her needy, jealous husband (Fonda). It's a shame that You Belong To Me (kinda) comes to this conclusions, because, up to this point, Stanwyck had been such a beacon of independence and girl power in a way I hadn't seen in a film since the Pre-Code days.

The Testament of Dr. Mabuse (Fritz Lang, 1933) A-

Fritz Lang's The Testament of Dr. Mabuse, his last before fleeing Nazi Germany after being offered the position of head of film propaganda by Goebbels himself, is an exciting crime thriller that takes some time to get used to but is ultimately worth the effort once you do. The film immediately opens up with a completely silent scene in which one man, to whom we aren't introduced to yet, is eavesdropping on two other men. He listens for awhile and then, suddenly, the two men spot the man's feet sticking out. After playing it cool for awhile, the two men start shooting, prompting a chase down the street before the man breaks away. What I find most interesting about Dr. Mabuse is how we are introduced to three different storylines all in the beginning and it isn't until towards the last 30 minutes that they truly come together (brilliantly, I must add). They stand apart on their own and it's quite fun guessing how exactly they will all connect eventually.

The Broadway Melody of 1940 (Norman Taurog, 1940) C

Certainly the best of The Broadway Melody series but that's not exactly hard, is it? One hundred minutes is way to long to go on this thin wisp of a mistaken identity story without the ridiculous only-in-the-movies humor of something Top Hat. I must admit that the dancing sequences are spectacular and Astaire and Powell have great dancing chemistry together. I just wish the rest of the movie had the spark that these two share when they are together.

When Ladies Meet (Robert Z. Leonard, 1941) D+

The day and night teaming of Joan Crawford and Greer Garson should have ensured When Ladies Meet greatness, or at the very least watchability. Unfortunately, the film's ridiculously stupid subject matter makes this hardly worth the effort to sit through this. Joan Crawford plays a writer who is loved by Robert Taylor but in love with her married editor Herbert Marshall. She's just finished her new book and begins an affair with Marshall while editing her book. The plot of her book mirrors her situation right now, but the section that needs improvement is the scene when the wife and the other woman meet. Cue Greer Garson, Marshall's wife, whom Taylor meets at a random party and, without either of them knowing the other's connection to Marshall, he gets them to meet and talk about her book. The main problem with When Ladies Meet is that it intellectualizes the issue falling in love with a married man so much that they make it sound like something as grave and serious as nuclear warfare or the war in Iraq. There's no doubt in my mind that the book Crawford is writing is probably nothing more than a trashy melodrama, but everyone in the film treats it as if the situation is unbearably unique and as intellectually stimulating as a new book by Freud. Crawford and Garson are fine in this film, but the sparks between them never ignite and they're too genteel towards each other when they should have been fighting for dominance.

William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet (Baz Luhrmann, 1996) B

My thoughts here.

Smart People (Noam Murro, 2008) C-

My thoughts here.

Shoot the Piano Player (Francois Truffaut, 1960) B

One of the main ways in which Truffaut differed from Godard, another pioneer of the French New Wave techniques, is that, for the most part, Truffaut liked to stick to telling full and complete stories while Godard loved using situations to really explore something else (like the romance in Breathless or the couple's trip to her parents' house in Week End). Shoot the Piano Player is the first Truffaut I've seen that actually feels like it could have been done by Godard. The editing techniques aren't as jarring as something like Breathless; rather, it's how the plot comes second to the wild tangents that the characters seem to go on for minutes at a time that reminded me of Godard. The opening scene in which Charlie' brother is seen talking with a random stranger about women and love has absolutely no barring on the plot whatsoever (other than the fact that he's avoiding the two men after their share of a robbery) and is never mentioned again in the film, but it's still fascinating stuff. I especially loved the scene in which Charlie and Lena are picked up by the two men and their witty banter in the car. Did it move the forward in any way? Probably not, but it's fun, jazzy and everything we love about the French New Wave (or at least I do). Shoot the Piano Player is a pleasant, tasteful, well-made little film, although I just wish there was a little more to get excited about. The ending was absolutely perfect and a nice contrast to The 400 Blows, but that flashback was a little clumsily done and probably could have been tightened up a bit. All in all another solid little gem from one of my favorite directors.