Friday, February 22, 2013

ACCESS HOLLYWOOD: My Beef with the Box



I’ve already hinted at my disdain for Redbox, but I think I need to rant for a minute anyway.

There used to be these magical places—roofed places, with walls and doors and heat and air conditioning—where you could walk around and browse movies to your heart’s desire.   You could actually say to yourself or your spouse or your girlfriend or buddies, “Hey!  Let’s watch Ace Ventura: Pet Detective tonight!” then go to this place and rent it for a small fee, and bring it back three-to-five days later depending on policy. 

You didn’t have to wait in a line in the rain/snow/wind/sweltering heat. 

You didn’t have to feel guilty for making others wait while you painstakingly selected a movie for the night.

You didn’t have to deal with a machine.

There were people with (sometimes) valid opinions on movies who could take you to the one you wanted or select one you didn’t even know you wanted.  If you didn’t like it, nine times out of ten you could just trade it for a different one free of charge.  And the selection was unmatched by anything outside of Netflix’s mail service.  You weren’t limited to new releases and straight-to-DVD hack jobs like * Zombies vs. Nazi Hookers from Outer Space.

Netflix instant has a great selection of Television shows but its movies are limited.  There are some great ones, don’t get me wrong, but you’ve really got to choose from their selection.  You can’t watch movies on a whim there.  Their mail service is the most complete, but again, if you want specific films you’ve got to wait ‘til they're mailed.  The closest you’ve got to “whim watching” is “Hey, let’s watch Ace Ventura on Thursday, cool?”

So the last bastion of great film outside of buying them is your local library.  They’ve got all sorts of great stuff.  They’ve got classics, documentaries, kid’s films, new films, old films, bad films, good films—they’ve got films.  And  they’re housed in a building. 

Go to the library.




* Note: not a real movie (I don't think)

LET’S TALK ABOUT… Citizen Kane



Citizen Kane is another movie, along with Casablanca, Vertigo, The Godfather, Lawrence of Arabia etc…, that frequently tops “Best of” lists.  It’s Orson Wells’ magnum opus.  A vanity project.  It was a box office flop.  It was booed at the Oscars.   It was way ahead of its time.  It is now known as one of the greatest examples of American Cinema at its most innovative. 

It’s basically the story of the life and death of the title character, a newspaper magnate famously based off of William Randolph Hearst.   There are endless topics to discuss about this movie but I want to talk about direction.

In acting, there was acting before Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire, and there was acting after Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire.  For direction, there was directing before Orson Wells’ Citizen Kane, and there was directing after Orson Wells’ Citizen Kane.

 
Orson Wells, a renowned actor, also wrote, produced, and directed this film.  He’s sort of like George Clooney.  Or Ben Affleck. 

Check out the opening.


The camera slowly panning up the gates that go on forever... It's sort of like the opening of Star Wars, with the camera shooting the bottom of the Star Destroyer as it just goes and goes and goes. Unforgettable stuff.  Very Influential.  

Now consider that this movie was made in 1941.  Consider the technological limitations.  

Now watch as Wells blows through them to achieve his vision.


Now, I wish I knew more about the technical aspects of film making.  I won't lie to you, I know virtually nothing about the camera.  What I do know is movies, and I can't name a single film before this one that uses a camera like this.  Just look at the opening scene where we see the nurse come in through the reflection of the broken glass snowball, or this last scene where the camera passes through a sign, then through the glass to get into the restaurant.  It's like a spirit or something.  

I'll admit, there is a very clear dissolve as it goes through the glass, but I still don't know how it got through that sign.

Here's one last clip of Wells playing with reflections.

LET'S TALK ABOUT... Casablanca




Everyone’s heard of Casablanca.  It’s Humphrey Bogart’s most famous film.  It’s got several of the most quoted movie lines in history.  It frequently tops “Best Movies of All Time” lists, and it’s no surprise why.  It's set in an exotic location, it's got humor, it's got singing, it's got gambling, it's got drinking, it's got guns, it's got Nazis, it's got seedy characters, and an unforgettable romance.  Not to mention a killer ending.

But I don’t want to talk about all that.

I want to talk about Peter Lorre. 

I’ve watched this movie… god knows how many times, and I’m constantly amazed by Peter Lorre’s presence in it—which is saying something, considering he’s introduced at the same time as our hero, Rick—AKA Humphrey Bogart. 

Now, for those of you who don’t know, Peter Lorre is one of those legendary character actors.  His voice has been replicated in countless cartoons, usually in the mouths of creepy villains.  He’s in Casablanca for maybe five minutes, but it’s his scene I think about when I think about this movie.

Check it out.   I’ll wait.

He just takes over the movie, doesn’t he?

But if I stop fawning over Peter Lorre’s performance, what’s really at play here is an excellent foil, and a near perfect character introduction.

We’ve got this slimy, weirdo black market shyster conversing with this seemingly rock-solid, man of few words, powerful individual.   Everything Rick does exemplifies his character—he doesn’t drink, he doesn’t let that “powerful” man into the bar, he doesn’t sit with the guests, and later, you’ll have to keep watching for another five minutes, he “sticks his neck out for no man.”

If you're looking to get in to classic film, Casablanca is a great place to start.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Welcome to The Reaction Shot



My name is Ross Colgan and I am a self-diagnosed film fanatic.  I have always liked movies, but it wasn't until the winter of 2009 that I really fell in love with them.  I was 21 years old, had recently moved to San Francisco, had a part time job and very few friends and found myself facing a ton of free time and an impending anxiety disorder.

Luckily, I also had a subscription to Turner Classic Movies and a DVR.

I would spend ten minutes a day searching through the television guide weeks into the future, downloading to my DVR every movie on TCM that I was even remotely interested in.  It started with vague recollections of hearing the name of a film. "It Happened One Night," sure I've heard of that, I'll record it, "From Here To Eternity," oh that's where that famous kiss on the beach was from.

Soon I had given myself quite the film school.  I became intensely interested in certain directors, and would scour the guide to fill my DVR with everything I could by Billy Wilder and Woody Allen and Ingmar Bergman and Martin Scorsese and Orson Wells and Sidney Lumet and John Huston.  The list kept expanding.

These films were vastly better than any of the movies I could find at a Redbox.  I couldn't imagine that anyone wouldn't enjoy these films and appreciate them as much as I now did.

But the fact remains that a lot of people won't watch a movie if it's older than they were alive. Some people won't watch a film that's not in color. Most people wouldn't touch a silent movie.

I get it.

It can be daunting and challenging to watch a film from another era.  Clothes have changed, technology has changed, propriety has changed, the way we speak to each other has changed and this can all get in the way of enjoying a film.  Things can seem unintentionally silly or quaint.

My goal in this blog is to talk about films that are universally considered to be the best ever made, most of which were not made in the 21st century--most of which were not made in the second half of the 20th century--and discuss them in a way that is as welcoming and fun as it is informative.

We are living in an exciting time in the adolescence of an art form.  Film is barely over a century old, a baby compared to music or painting or sculpture, and we can enjoy the whole of it.  There have been thousands of films made and yes, a lot of them are trash, but the ones worth watching--the ones that have shaped modern cinema, are worth not only a watch, but an appreciation.  A Conversation.

So in the words of Rick at the end of Casablanca, * "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful blogger-reader relationship."


- Ross Colgan




*NOTE, he didn't really say that.  Sorry.