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Reviews
Sinatra (1992)
a top biopic
I watched the two-video VHS packet of this, the past two nights, not knowing what to expect, and was amazed at the depth of the portrayal. I've been a low-level fan of Sinatra's ever since the screaming bobby-soxer days, and while I've never read a formal biog, the ins and outs of his career could hardly escape any observant song-lover. So I knew something of his rough spots, and was amazed by how well this film covers the complexity and nuances of Sinatra's persona.
Although the stress seems heavy on his ego, I've not much doubt it was accurate. The guy, in truth, lived a most amazing life; and I felt the honesty of the portrayal to be one of the best, for any biopic I've ever seen. It's to his family's credit that they permitted such honesty.
Casnoff not only did a superb job of the character, but he even looks amazingly like a young Sinatra. It's hard to rate the other performers on that level, but they at least are quite believable. Particularly for the two major women in his life, Nancy and Ava.
Stand by Me (1986)
Something far deeper about this film
As I read the other comments and think about this film's effect on me -- the fact that before I even sought out IMDb I immediately recognized the 'River Phoenix character' in my own life: a pal called Babe, whom I have tried in vain to relocate, now nearly 70 years after our 12-year old childhood days -- but yes, we had that kind of friendship, in my own recall; he gave me the confidence to fight back, against a bully, which meant a whole lot, in my young years. But what I was about to say is that I suddenly see something almost archetypal in the kind of situation recognized by so many others, and myself, as the age-12 friendship scenario.
Now that I can look back over an entire life, it is possible to see the elements that seemed so distinctive at the time, and are remembered as so personal, so unique, as actually being very characteristic of a time-of-life. And to see them so uniformly recalled convinces me that this is so. We already know a few such passages: the midlife crisis, and the sentimentally romantic teenage years (as certified by the pop music that is forever afterward what we favor best and return to most). Similarly, then, is there an idealized moment directly at the crossover between childhood and being what we call grown-up.
In fact, it is the final passage of childhood, after which nothing is ever quite so wonderful. We get 'drafted by life' . . . channeled into careers, relationships, professions, family concerns, and not to forget: debts and mortgages and the passion for 'getting ahead'. But before all that begins, life has left with us something richly remembered as an idealized friendship. It is really love, however, before it becomes sexual. And that precious slice of it will always be back there as a kind of prototypical ideal, for challenging comparison with every other relationship we ever have in our lives. It's back there to model our future connections . . . for as long as we can retain the ideal. As I now see it, that's what this film, along with the comments on it, has revealed to me.
Manhattan Murder Mystery (1993)
Not one of Woody's best
Watching a Woody Allen film is always rewarding, and this one has the advantage of his re-casting with Diane Keaton, as well as Alan Alda. So there is no question but that it's worth a viewing for any Woody fan. But I would not rate it among his best, and maybe not even among his 'better' output. It gets off to a good start . . . let us say a typical Woody Allen start, and it runs along in characteristic Woody grooves of angst and self-demeanment (one knows what to expect from Woody), but along about two-thirds through the film it suddenly gets unrealistically kooky, seeming to shift, at that point, from the calculated and well-paced humor into a kind of frenetic intensity of faux detective action with the characters suddenly OUT of character and doing things that had no reasonable basis in the earlier buildup of the tale. Seriously, I felt it came across like a schizophrenic directorial job, which of course has to be laid at the feet of Allen, himself. Thumbs not exactly down on this one, but leaning quite heavily toward the horizontal.
The Voice of Bugle Ann (1936)
Actually, a very memorable film
Although I was only 9 years old at the time, this film somehow left a deep impression on me. Certainly not because it was the first I'd seen I had been watching films for several years by then. No, it was the feeling generated in a kid's heart . . . anyone who loved dogs would have felt it, I'm sure. I don't even remember much else about it. Just the baying of that lonely, doomed animal, Bugle Ann, caught in a steel trap on a foggy night. I don't even recall the details around it. They found her the next morning (Lionel Barrymore in one of his more moving scenes) when it was too late. It was a rare film, in those days, that left me feeling worse when I left the movie house than when I went in.
(Of course, the impression might have been solidified for me when I discovered that the girl I eventually married had also been deeply saddened by this film one of HER earliest film memories, and that was in the late 1940s when we talked about it.)
I do wish I could see a re-issue of it.
The Long Day Closes (1992)
It fails to meet my personal standard of a film worth seeing
It's kind of fascinating to me that so many reviewers consider this a masterpiece. I am not a dullard as far as quality films go, and I will agree that from a technical filming standpoint, as well as for several of the characters portrayed, the film is in an award-worthy class. But there is no sense (for me) of this film actually going anywhere; I mean, taking the viewer anywhere. It is a series of mood scenes, perhaps remarkable as such, but I want more from a film. I look for story and movement and a fulfillment of arrival, none of which did I find in this film. Yes, it might be considered poetry on film . . . but there is much poetry that I cannot live with for the same reason: that it paints pictures without going anywhere.
One thing further to be said is that it documents a mid-century English childhood, which is necessarily limited in its universality. I was personally appalled at what a young British boy had to live through, in that time and place. Having grown up in America just a decade earlier, I can authoritatively say that the contrast is immense. I cannot help wondering if this contrast has had some effect on those reviewing the film so favorably. In other words, could there be a tendency to judge the film entirely on its 'filmic magic' (which I acknowledge is there) and completely ignore its lack of relevance to the nature of one's actual recalled experience?
Noises Off... (1992)
Good, but it doesn't equal a real stage performance.
Having seen this twice as a stage production (and by two different companies!), I have to say that you are really better off seeing it done on stage. The film is good, but it actually suffers by comparison. I think a part of the reason might be that I HAD seen it previously, so that it did not hit me like it may hit most first-timers, and also that I had high expectations for it. But I think it actually works better on a real stage. The timing becomes REAL in a way that the known proficiency of camera technique is not able to match. This is a psychological effect, to be sure, but it cannot be discounted. Film editing, splicing, etc, along with retakes up to the necessary hilt are factors in the back of our mind in the watching of any film. But when this play is effectively performed in the get-it-right necessity of a real-life production, the effect is actually overpowering, and the humor is stunning. Go see it on stage if you get the chance.
That is really all I have to say about it, but since ten lines of text are required (which must be a new requirement, because many of the comments I've seen appear to be much shorter) I guess I'll just have to keep going . . . or else this very significant review will never get out there for you to see. It feels sort of like having to keep a filibuster going, in which they just talk about anything in order to use up time. A rather stupid rule, I should say. A good writer hardly needs to extend his wordage. I mean, I've said it as I wanted to say it.
The Ranch (2004)
surprisingly engaging, even with its problems
I didn't expect much of this film, but it somehow grabbed my interest and held it for the full length. I admit I was disappointed at the rather abrupt ending; it left the impression that the producers ran out of money, or film. But that being said, it was decently acted, and as another reviewer said, it presented thought-provoking concerns. I found myself rooting for those gals, most of them, which means the film made me care about their lives, and I consider that the mark of good theater.
As to the lack of real sex or actual nudity, I rank that as positive. It gave the expectedly raunchy plot-line a bit of unexpected class. I could better relate to these girls as real people with real issues.
Reaching for the Moon (1930)
Merely five minutes of music, but a SUPERB five minutes
While this film was apparently issued as a musical, there is really only a single musical performance in the entire 66-minute version that I saw, lasting only about 4 or 5 minutes. The original issue apparently had more in it, and considering that it was Irving Berlin material, it's a great pity that more of it didn't remain.
That being said, however, the single production number that does come along, 45 minutes into the film, is easily worth the price of admission. Not only is it the earliest extant film version of a Bing Crosby performance (and I swear he was wearing a toupee, even then!), but his solo piece was wonderfully supported by a second from Bebe Daniels, and yet a third, from a sultry-voiced woman who is no longer recalled, and all of it given life by a jazzy dance troupe not as performers, but as actual dancers. It projects the storied Jazz Age with marvelous resonance, and is a joy to watch.