I saw a re-release of Orson Welles' "classic" this afternoon. It's not a particularly well-made film, but what with its eye-candy set-pieces and bizarre characters, one can almost overlook that the film seems to have been written by about a dozen different writers who never spoke to each other: the plot moves in fits and starts, with scenes abruptly ending and beginning, it's wildly over-narrated, and the plot doesn't make a bit of sense. Still: the hall of mirrors. It's a frustrating film, but impossible to completely dislike. However, it makes me think about the re-release craze that seems to be going on these days. It's easy money for the studios, but is every movie made before the Kennedy administration a "classic"? It's getting out of hand.
Review of The Lady from Shanghai
