jimhass Reviews

Resurrecting the Champ (2007)

I read the original story

[10/10 · 31 January 2007]

I haven't seen the film yet, but I will. The original story, which was in the L.A. Times magazine, was some of the best journalism I ever read. "A story in 15 rounds." The themes are profound, and it revolves around pretending to be someone, and who the real champ is. The way the character of the man, or men -- and that includes the journalist -- peel open like an onion, and make men especially meditate on what it is to be a father, to have a father, and to be and have a son -- it's probably the only magazine article ever that made me cry like a baby. I hope the real reporter got a little bread for his effort.

There's one thing especially that sticks out, all these years later, and that's the pivotal scene where the reporter describes his meetings with his own divorced father, which usually were in airports and the like, and it's so intriguing how the search for the truth about this hobo reveals so much about us all.

God, the Devil and Bob (2000)

We're losing our soul

[21 July 2004]

Somebody brought up the Simpson's in this context. It's true: the same narrow minds that fought the Simpsons for Bart's "rebellious attitude" fought this one too. How stupid can you get. While not the greatest show in the world, this was clever, fun, and quite wise on a theological level. In fact, I can't really figure out why a religious person would be against this, unless they are simply looking for something to be offended by, because it makes them happy to get in a paroxysm of moral outrage, regardless of the matter before them.

I'll tell you the difference between the Simpson's and this quick cancellation: we've had a great increase in power, over the last 15 years, of the narrow-minded and censorious. This trend must be fought, or we won't have much culture left.

Murder One (1995–1997)

TV for adults: what a concept

[27 May 2004]

I can see why this show only went two seasons: it's smart, and it doesn't give you a case of ADHD. You actually had to figure out who was who, and follow characters over an entire year. The writing was good, smart and funny; a lot of it took place in a courtroom. Sort of a truer and grittier L.A. Law.

It, and many other worthwhile shows, had to move out of the way so we could all get to see "American Idol," "The Swan" and "The Apprentice." Yes, our culture is headed downhill, but not in the way conservatives ofter say. An appetite for the fast buck and a contempt for the audience go a very long way.

Francis Goes to West Point (1952)

Naive and charmingly dumb

[6/10 · 10 February 2004]

I have to admit, this film has nothing much to recommend it except for the fact that it was among the very first movies I ever saw. I believe it was in the Fox Theater in New Orleans, off Elysee Blvd. way, way back there. I know I was young enough to be mightily impressed at how on earth they got a mule to talk! I'm still not sure.

Anyway, Donald O'Connor is one of the more underrated musical comedy guys from back then, and the show as a whole is pleasantly sawdust-brained. It's part of my education in films, and I love it just for that.

Knight Rider (1982–1986)

Unbelievably crude

[27 December 2003]

It was amusing to see the first criticism of this really empty, schlocky garbage, but then alarming to read the attacks on the guy for telling the truth. I hope the defenders of this show are at most 12 years old, so there's some excuse. And the very suggestion that guys have to like this show because "cars are cool" needs to be kept after school for about 15 years. Then again, we elected Reagan (twice) during this time, so maybe we get what we deserve.

The Phantom Empire (1935)

Childhood's Empire

[9/10 · 11 August 2003]

For somebody who wasn't about six when he first saw this serial, it's really pretty clunky and corny. For somebody who was (they reshowed it once on early TV, on one of those shows that had a local Uncle Bob type playing old westerns and cartoons, and promoting the station's shows in between. Even now, when I think of the juxtaposition of the aboveground world of the singing cowboy, the "Thunder Riders" and their bizarre, futuristic city under the mountain, I get goosebumps. The best occasion I had to see this was one summer, when I went to the local Y every Saturday morning to see a bunch of old movies with 3-400 other kids my age; the title would roll up, and the kids would scream.

Also, I think I could prove that Freud was right about infantile sexuality when I think of the way I felt about the underground queen, clad in silvery, clinging clothes.

Hercules in New York (1970)

Bad acting except by the pects

[10 August 2003]

Let's see: acting? Can't even understand what he says! Brainless plot, bad camerawork. Hmm, forget the acting, Arnold. Let's make you governor, where you won't be able to harm anybody-- oh, maybe not.

Cradle Will Rock (1999)

The '30s Left

[7 May 2003]

Marxism was the undercurrent of the '30s, just as libertarianism is the subtext of the '80s and '90s. It's a bit of a shock at first to see a Hollywood movie with these concerns in these days, as the "people" in right-wing culture are either Us or the ones We feel scorn for, the inferior ones. The federal government sponsoring theaters? Right-wingers would sooner drive pins in their eyes. (Forget the huge amount of employment and amusement it would bring in the dirty '30s, it's more important that it would perhaps be overrun with leftists.) Nowadays, we have a totally privatized artistic universe, and see what wonders it brings: cheap non-fiction entertainment and fictionalized tabloid news.

That being said, it does seeem a bit preachy as a script, but it's pretty hard to imagine this kind of piece not being preachy and still being a historical piece. Don't worry, go back to the dramas that become popular in right-wing times: superhero revenge dramas where the square-jawed hero cannot lose. And you wonder why these times are so empty.

The Lovers on the Bridge (1991)

Beautiful, my dear, but shallow

[5 May 2003]

I know you can go long analyzing a film, but I don't think you need to here. Juliette Binoche is (surprise) a beautiful young woman who is going tragically but mysteriously blind. She may or may not (not!) have shot her lover. Her boyfriend is a drunk who lives on the Pont-Neuf as it's being repaired. They meet, quarrel, and meet again. A classic film melodrama with a happy ending, about as substantial as a meringue. Beautifully photographed, and the young Ms. Binoche is radiant, even in grungy jeans and an eyepatch.

The only serious problem, and the thing that makes the film so problematic is this: since the characters and setting make us think, "Dark Victory meets Gigi", there is really no need for the leaden pace. Sighs are profound, and the camera lingers on everything for way too long. There's no suspense driving the pace, and no profound meditation on the nature of reality; so the pace is what tips the whole thing over into pretentiousness.

Federal Protection (2002 TV Movie)

Not horrible, just cliched

[26 April 2003]

I agree with the above comments. The films made up in the Great White North are an accounting trick, caused by a) the dirt-cheap Canadian dollar, and the availabilty of subsidies -- though this may have changed recently, I'm not sure. For this, what happens is that a producer based in NY or Los Angeles takes a project written with some US locale in mind and either shoots Montreal as "New York" or "Paris". It is neither, though it is a beautiful city in its own right. This way of structuring the Deal puts story, local color, regional accents, all of that way down at the bottom of consideration, when it should be near the top. (That's why a movie -- Woody Allen's Manhattan is just an example -- can evoke a time and place better than any other art form, and why all these transplanted cheapies look like they're shot in Vinyl Palookaville.) Americans and Canadians both deserve a better cinema.

The Black Marble (1980)

A real misfire

[26 December 2002]

This movie has all the signs of a film that sat on the shelf for a while. When The Onion Field came out, this made Wambaugh (and James Woods) hot again, and they decided to release it -- that's my guess. Look at Woods, in the pre-stardom, almost extra role of the Fiddler.

The reason is simple. Robert Foxworth stinks it out. He delivers such a soft center in the role, the proceedings are even difficult to understand.

The other problem is that the dialogue is long long, pointless and drawn out. The action crawls along a foot a minute while the characters make small talk.

Paula Prentiss is fine, as is Harry Dean Stanton. But sometimes movies don't always jell, and this one sure doesn't either.

Anaconda (1997)

Ripe anaconda doo-doo

[30 July 2002]

As for squill, above, who finds this stupidest movie of the decade a classic, well, all I can do is sigh.

There is nothing classic about a movie as unbelievably stupid as this one.

A return to the '50s horror genre? Possibly, but this was a genre that should be taken off and fed to a 50-foot screaming anaconda, and have its funeral oration given by Jon Voight, in one of the ripest pieces of scenery-gnawing ever put on film.

It is so ludicrously stupid that I can recommend it -- once. It's so bad, it makes you look skyward and laugh.

The point about the '50s horror classics was that they were crude paranoia -- in most of them, for "Spacemen" or "Creatures" read "Commies" and you've pretty much understood the whole deal. Ed Woodian direction can't make a classic, just a piece of junk.

God, I hate monster movies where the monsters aren't real in the slightest. This anaconda stalks prey for miles, lies in wait for days, eats multiple victims within minutes of each other (instead of the weeks or months between snacks of a real bone-crusher), and... wait for it... screams! (Uh, anacondas make no noise at all.)

If you want a dumb laughable rental, go ahead, and get ready to laugh and wince. If you want actual insights into the horrors of nature, skip this.

Return to the Blue Lagoon (1991)

Can you say "prurient"?

[10 July 2002]

All right, that's a little over the top. But seriously, there is nothing to recommend this movie aside from the young forms of the two stars. I guess for a hormone-challenged teen, there is deep matter here. I don't want to discourage or embarrass the young, but they should get their kicks elsewhere than this slick, empty, meaningless movie.

The Thin Red Line (1998)

Look at the Frames

[28 May 2002]

This is, in fact, a very beautiful movie with flaws. The multiple narrators work to give you a sense of the great multitudes of men who engaged in the war, but they're confusing and tend to diffuse the narrative speed. On the other hand, Malick is not concerned about narrative, and certainly not about speed. He is a lyric poet, and what he wants the audience to think about is the meaning of war.

The story begins in nature. The first image is of a crocodile slipping silently into a swamp. This is the theme, the duality of nature. It is so beautiful -- even this old croc -- but it is also deadly. Men and women are beautiful, in the idyllic world of the opening scenes -- but the soldier is AWOL, and they come find him to put him in battle.

From that point on, the story is a series of meditations on man, war and fate. The images are gorgeous. The words, and the characterizations, are profoundly involving. The narration often suffers. Who's talking here? What exactly is he talking about? Who's that dying? Is he the same guy we saw on the boat? And so on. There are times when you think that the narrative is being deliberately left in the background, because the audience is another victim of "the fog of war."

I just watched the DVD this weekend, after seeing the movie in the theaters. On second viewing, I gathered a horde of new meanings from this beautiful movie. I think it would also surrender new layers of meaning every time you watched it. Perhaps that's why I think it's a better DVD movie than it was in theaters.

The Apocalypse Watch (1997 TV Movie)

A Complete Muddle

[18 December 2001]

Robert Ludlum is a guilty pleasure, discovered in airline terminals, nourished during long flights or bus trips. A real pot-boiler, spiced with ghastly scenes of blood and passionate romance. What a disappointment this movie is. Yes, there is Virginia Madsen, who is fully capable of rising to the stature of a Ludlum heroine, but she is given little to do. How odd that a worse writer, like Clancy (who can neither write nor think, and therefore is advising the Bush White House), has gotten much better treatment from the Hollywood gods. This is an incomprehensible, but predictable, muddle.