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Reviews
The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)
Extended version a tangible improvement, and not just for those who love the books
When I saw the original theatrical release, I was, like many others who knew and loved Tolkien's books, pleasantly surprised that Peter Jackson and his team had succeeded in making a good movie without betraying at least the spirit of the books (betraying the letter was unavoidable in anything less than a 12-part miniseries) and that the movie's most glaring flaws were essentially all errors of omission rather than commission (unlike a certain other version by one B*ksh*).
Now I have seen the extended edition (in deference to Peter Jackson's professed dislike of the term, I will not call it the director's cut, though IMO this merely deprives him of the kudos he richly deserves for creating this much-improved version) and I am overjoyed to find that many of the original errors of omission have been rectified, turning what was already a good movie into an excellent movie.
Certain yawning gaps in the theatrical version (especially noticeable--and not just for those who have read the book--during the fellowship's sojourn in Lothlorien) were expertly filled, and the story now does far more justice especially to the talents of Cate Blanchett and John Rhys Davies (both of whom received shamefully short shrift in the theatrical version) and (to my pleasant surprise) of Hugo Weaving, whose Elrond has become much more balanced with just a few deft strokes.
Moreover, though most of the changes have made the movie adhere closer to the book, this has certainly not made the movie less enjoyable for those who have not read the books; if anything, the movie's pacing has become more even, lessening the frenetic feel that previously marred parts of it (of course, if you believe it _should_ have been an Action Movie And Only An Action Movie, you might regret this development).
All in all, I believe the extended version is a considerable improvement on the theatrical release. I originally rated the theatrical version an 8, and I would say the extended version is about a 3-point increase, but unfortunately I can't rate it an 11, so it'll have to be a 10.
The Wrong Box (1966)
A perfect gem of British humor
In my considered opinion, this is one of the best British comedies of all time (and I flatter myself that I am not usually given to hyperbole). To buttress this opinion, I could mention the fact that the movie is based on (and quite faithful to) one of the most hilarious stories ever penned in the English language (by R. L. Stevenson of "Treasure Island" fame); that the story in spite of its endless comical complications never once becomes too confusing (except of course to Tony Hancock's hapless inspector); and that the story is interpreted by some of the most memorable and talented actors of two generations.
The (then) old guard is worthily represented by Ralph Richardson as the deliciously exasperating Joseph Finsbury, John Mills as the cranky and cantankerous Masterman, and especially Wilfrid Lawson's unforgettable doddering yet stalwart butler (his fellow actor Michael Caine has stated that Lawson is his favorite actor--as well as the favorite actor of every other actor who knew him).
The (then) younger generation, however, does not pale by comparison. Peter Cook's Morris Finsbury sets down a delightfully unprincipled cad (one suspects that Masterman may have resembled him in his younger days), yet we can't quite stop rooting for him, because Michael Caine and Nanette Newman strike just the right sweet and innocent tone as Michael and Julia to make us surreptitiously feel that perhaps they deserve to be cheated out of their money. Moreover, the fact that the fate of the more deserving members of the younger generation is not exactly aligned with the more deserving member of the older generation reinforces the ambiguity--so we find ourselves rooting in turn for Joseph, Morris, and John, then again for Michael, Julia, and Masterman. In this respect, the eventual denouement (which I won't give away) is pleasantly and surprisingly satisfying.
Spare some kudos also for the excellent supporting cast, from Peter Sellers' vacuously venal Doctor Pratt and Dame Cicely Courtneidge's imperious Salvation Army major to such brief but perfect walk-ons as the unflappable engine crew ("We haven't heard the last of this") or poor Hackett's lachrymose widow. This is what British acting is all about.
If, in spite of all this circumstantial evidence, however, I still have not fully conveyed the essential laugh-out-loud, tears-in-your-eyes, still-uncontrollably-snickering-in-church-twelve-hours-later (warning: do not watch this movie if you plan to attend a funeral anytime soon), then I can only say one thing:
Go watch this movie. You'll love it.
Galaxina (1980)
How Not To Make A Supremely Bad Comedy
The odd thing about Galaxina is not that it is supremely bad, although it is. The odd thing is that in spite of being supremely bad, it is not funny. Supremely bad movies have their own particular brand of unintended humor--the secret of their success, you might say. But Galaxina is quite uniquely different--it is MST3K's worst nightmare, a bad movie in which the intentional *and* the unintentional humor alike fall flat.
It is easy enough to figure out why the intentional jokes fail--and the reasons are quite varied. Sometimes it's a timing question; sometimes it's a good idea badly worked out (the human restaurant *could* have been hilarious, but it wasn't); sometimes it feels like there was some mixup in the cutting room, with the punchline ending up on the floor; and sometimes the jokes are just bad jokes. Bad movies get their laughs from such unintentional snafus. It's harder to figure out why Galaxina doesn't get any laughs on that count. Something is subtly wrong with the unintentional humor in this movie, just as something is wrong (not at all subtly) with the intentional humor. It is a supremely bad movie whose very badness is not the redeeming quality it usually is. It's absolutely unique in my experience.
Gone with the Wind (1939)
Not bad, perhaps, but soooo overrated...
I just don't get the big deal about this movie. I wouldn't go so far as to call it actively bad, but why everybody insists on praising it to high heaven is beyond me.
Sure, the statistics are impressive enough: monster length, color, all-star cast, ambitious special effects which were probably unique at the time. It's clear enough that the movie *wants* to be big. The problem is that sheer flamboyance by itself does not make a great movie. The heart of a truly brilliant movie is in the characters and the plot.
And there's the rub. Neither the characters nor the plot do much for me. The characters are, to put it mildly, unlikable. Scarlett in particular has no redeeming features at all; she is just the whiniest, prickliest, most selfish piece of mischief I have ever wanted to say "Frankly, my dear, you make me want to hurl" to. The other characters are either just as selfish and unlikable or so downtrodden that my initial pity for them has eroded away to nothing by the end of the movie (another drawback of its ambitious length).
As to the plot--well, it's basically one melodramatic potboiler run into another melodramatic potboiler run into another... I can stand (even like) melodrama in small doses, but "as God is my witness, this movie will never move me to tears again" (as a matter of fact it never did in the first place, but anything for a pun...).
For the reasons just outlined, I do not agree with the widespread opinion that this is a great movie. Whether it is a good movie is a matter of taste and probably depends largely on how easily one can stomach its lesser flaws, the most glaring of which is its casual racism (that one carpetbagger just *had* to be an "uppity n---er," didn't he?). But I wouldn't call it a flawed masterpiece--just a flawed melodramatic potboiler with rather uninteresting characters.