ARGO (2012)

I think I always accidentally confused Argo with Fargo and avoided it as a result, due to the adoration so many punk bros I knew had for the latter. I wish I had not waited so long. This film was excellent, and the kind you like to go through later and match up against the historical record – which we did. It was interesting to me that Canadian critics felt the film did not do enough to truly celebrate the pivotal role Canada played in freeing the hostages.

Ben Affleck is pitch perfect as Central Intelligence Agency Operative Tony Mendez, and also directed the film. I imagine of all the stories in the CIA’s history, this one stands out as one of the most breathtaking. It chronicles how the CIA used a fake sci-fi movie as a ruse to rescue hostages from Tehran during the 1979-1981 Iran hostage crisis, in which six diplomats were successfully freed. The film was made in 2012, and was met with tremendous critical acclaim.

Even accounting for the inevitable dramatic liberties taken, this is a real stranger-than-fiction tale of a seemingly inane plan to extract six members of the American embassy staff from Tehran. Great movie, even if it did feel like a two hour anxiety episode. I didn’t realize until watching that Ben Affleck directed and produced. I’m so used to seeing him in supermarket tabloids, that it’s easy to forget that he’s a talented guy. 

The oppressive tension of the movie is broken up by Alan Arkin as a Hollywood producer and John Goodman (as the accomplished makeup artist John Chambers) who team up to form a bogus film production company to provide cover for the operation. 

Every few movies we watch, there is something that resonates with what’s going on in the real world. The opening scene of Argo is the well-known takeover of the American embassy. It was unsettling  to watch; it was filmed effectively and knowing it was a real event gave it additional weight. Something else was getting under my skin, though. It took me a while to realize what it was, until I realized we watched this not long after the attempted insurrection at the United States Capital. The dramatized scenes of Tehran in 1979 directly echoed the images from Washington DC in January 2021. 

THE ENGLISH PATIENT (1996)

I hope you’re reading our blog, because I can’t take my eyes off the passion!

So here we are, at 1996’s The English Patient. A Canadian nurse (Juliette Binoche) in the closing days of WWII finds herself caring for a mysterious, amnesiac plane-crash survivor (Ralph Fiennes), unrecognizable from the burns he sustained when he went down in the desert. She sets up an ad hoc hospice in a bombed out Italian monastery, soon joined by a demolitions officer and a Canadian intelligence operative with a shadowy agenda of his own. As the patient slowly, slowly succumbs to his injuries, flashbacks unveil his story; how an ill-considered and ill-fated love affair with a married woman (Kristin Scott Thomas) during an archaeological expedition in North Africa before the war led him to a military hospital. 

The English Patient has become known for divisive opinions among its audience, so much so that at this point it’s probably most famous as the subject of the Seinfeld episode where Elaine, incredulous at everyone’s fawning over the film, finds herself trapped in a repeat viewing. I was curious to see if I’d dig it, or if I’d scream at Ralph Fiennes to “just die already.”

The film dragged a bit for me, but there were many aspects I really loved. The flashbacks to the patient, Almásy, beginning his love affair with Katharine who is a married woman are compelling; he as a cartographer is also given clues by a local Bedouin man which help him make his way to the Cave of Swimmers, a site of cave paintings which grows to have a lot of significance in the plot. I liked also that while Almasy is sharing his story about this past illicit love affair, involving sketches and missives and stolen kisses, Hana the nurse taking care of him also begins her own affair with Kip. He is a Sikh sapper in the British Army whose job it is to clear bombs including at the monastery where Hana and her patient are both posted.

A powerful theme that resonated for me in this film is that some relationships and love affairs are time and place specific, and short in their nature. That doesn’t make them any less compelling, powerful or transformative. They can alter the lives of the people who have them. I think this is an idea we all could stand to embrace more culturally. Relationships can change our lives and make our spirits grow and stretch even if they cannot endure over the long haul. Not sure that is what the filmmaker wanted me to get out of the film, but I chose to.

THE SHAPE OF WATER (2017)

We sadly lost a full blog about The Shape of Water so please forgive us as we do a new one from scratch! I wanted to make sure we didn’t skip it completely though as it is one of my favorite Oscar winners. The film is a 2017 romantic fantasy written by Guillermo del Toro and Vanessa Taylor and directed by del Toro. It is set in Baltimore in 1962, and follows a character Elisa who cannot speak who falls in love with an amphibian-like creature in the high security lab where she works. A cleaner in the lab, Elisa’s world is very small and routine – her only friends are her neighbor Giles who is a closeted gay man and her Black co-worker Zelda. She witnesses the creature in her cleaning work and becomes fascinated with him. They develop a connection without language and a love beyond words.

Elisa herself is a person with mystery – she was discovered as a baby with wounds on her neck. She was found at the side of a river. She is mute and communicates through sign language. This is important and key to the story. 

I will definitely say, this is the best erotic love story about a human woman and magic fish monster I have ever seen. 

This is probably the first time a Best Picture has come up in our project that we had originally seen together during its theatrical run. Still, despite having seen it twice, I was still too dense to realize that the ending implies Elisa to be at least part fish-monster. 

I guess I am dense as well, because I also didn’t understand that until we read more later. I was, however, really fascinated by the whole Cold War element of the story. While fictional, I thought it stayed pretty true to a Baltimore in that time period vibe. Guillermo del Toro did such an aching, haunting, beautiful job with this film. The word that comes to mind is indelible; so many images from the film stayed with me for years to come. 

KRAMER VS. KRAMER (1979)

We’re back, people! Here to discuss Kramer vs. Kramer, a family drama taking place in a New York City where women take care of the home, the man of the house can provide a middle class lifestyle on 32K, and people of color only appear in background shots. 

Arriving home from work- late of course- advertising man Ted Kramer is told by his wife Joanna that she is walking out on their marriage. This leaves him to struggle to find a new normal as a single working parent to their young son, Billy. After some time, the equilibrium he arrives at is upended by the return of Joanne, now seeking custody of Billy after a lengthy absence. 

This film is a hard watch, I won’t lie. It is made even harder when you are a couple with a young son, seeing it through the eyes of a child being torn between parents. We see Ted evolve and change through the crisis put before him – in a way, I think we are as an audience set up to ask the question of how all men in a similar spot would rise to the challenge. This film was made in 1979 – a very different time for gender relations and co-parenting. I wonder how audiences back then responded to the notion of a man raising his son alone. 

Ted grows to be a likeable – even loveable – character, transforming from the man in the beginning who doesn’t even seem to be clear on his son’s age to a parent who adores him and cares for him in every way. One of the saddest parts of the film, in my opinion, is that had the couple met later in life, post-evolution, perhaps they would have survived. Meryl Streep is brilliant as ever in the film, playing Joanne. I did wish we’d seen a little more of who she was pre-marriage fleshed out, maybe in flashbacks, so that we could see how shattering the reality of her marriage had become to her in terms of her identity. I felt that would have been more humanizing. 

BEN-HUR (1959)

This film came with a reputation – of being, shall we say, a lot. I had never seen Ben-Hur and part of why I delayed watching it was that I knew it would be long. Also, my completist partner in crime wanted to not just watch one version – no, we chose to watch THREE. This included the 1959 film this blog is about, the 1925 silent film, of which the ‘59 film was essentially a remake, and a fifteen minute short from the early 1900s. 

I can truly say I got a good sense for Ben-Hur, though I didn’t read the book or check out the comic. There are a few things that really stood out to me about this drama, which depicts conflict when the Romans in their quest for empire take over Judea, causing tension among friends. Chiefly, we follow the story of Judah Ben-Hur, who is a wealthy Jewish prince and merchant from Jerusalem who becomes ensnared in conflict, along with his mother and sister, because of a misunderstanding around a fallen tile from his roof and his own outspoken nature. He is proud of his Jewish faith in a time when the Romans were having none of it. 

When he is taken in as a prisoner of the Romans, he becomes a galley slave for five years. He’s assigned eventually to the Roman Consul Arrius and saves his life after there is an attack on their ship by the Macedonians. Judah prevents him from falling on his sword (more than just a saying in this cinematic journey!), and to show his gratitude, Arrius petitions Tiberius to free Judah and adopt him as a son. Judah spends a year in Rome, enjoying prestige and learning how to chariot race – eventually being asked by an Arab sheik to return to his home of Jerusalem to race in front of the new governor of Judea Pontius Pilate against his old friend Messala (the man responsible for getting him imprisoned). When I speak of the things that stood out for me, though, there are really two: chariot racing and leprosy. 

It felt so sad and uncomfortable to watch how the characters with leprosy were dealt with and I wondered what form that would take in our world and our time. I suppose there are similar kinds of situations, where people are shunned and pushed to the outskirts, but when it comes to human contact being that impossible, I don’t know if there’s anything that can quite compare. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have a loved one in that position, and so I must say I remained fairly fixated on that the whole time. We also watched all three versions of this film to get a good sense of it, including the earliest silent version. I love Judah’s character, and I really liked watching the ways in which the different films handling the Jesus representation – particularly decisions to show his body/face or not in various moments. 

Mouse and I also had a lot of conversations about the chariot racing – namely, about how the animals were treated. Mouse knows more about this, but it is my understanding from him that there were many different approaches to documenting this for the different versions. I mostly kept looking at the horses to ascertain, as a former horse girl, whether or not it seemed they felt true terror. 

SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE (2008)

Most of the time, when you see someone succeed, there is an obvious rationality to it. Some mixture of innate ability and privileged position. Then there are the occasional people you see coming out on top, and you just have to ask: Why them? The people who make you wonder if there is some guiding hand of destiny. This is the question that Slumdog Millionaire poses at its opening, as impoverished Mumbai orphan Jamal Malik prepares to answer the final question on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? (In multiple choice format, of course.) Is he lucky? A genius? Cheating? Or, “it is written?”

Assuming Jamal to be a cheat, he is arrested and interrogated by the police. He withstands torture, but explains his success. Every question of the game has – quite improbably- echoed episodes of his own life; his childhood on the streets of Mumbai with his brother Salim and fellow orphan Latika, their involvement with exploitative underworld figures, his estrangement from Salim, and his long quest to reunite with Latika. 

It had been a while since I had watched this film and I was as riveted the second time as I was the first time. Maybe it’s just something I was born with – the desire for the “it is written” in the world. The mystical, the preordained – that guiding hand. It’s a subject Mouse and I have disagreed over in the past – whether or not destiny is real. I think this film appeals to me so much because it lands on my side. It is real; it is magical. 

One thing that bothered me a little in the film, though it really was not that big of a deal, was that I thought the different actors playing Latika at different stages were not believable as being one continuous person. I can understand this when you are casting a child and an adult, but the middle-tiered castings were very confusing to me when put against the final actor who plays adult Latika. That’s not here or there, but it really would be my only critique of this film. 

THE BROADWAY MELODY (1929)

This is the story of a pair of sisters who hit the Broadway circuit and attempt to make it big. The film is interesting in that it was pre-Code, and the first sound film to win an Academy Award for Best Picture, in 1929. This was also the second year of the Awards. The film features Anita Page as Queenie and Bessie Love as Harriet “Hank” Mahoney. Hank prides herself on her mind for business and her talent; Queenie is lauded for her beauty. This sets up a tension in the relationship, both professionally and personally. Eddie, who is engaged to Hank, starts the film off by telling two chorus girls he’s brought the sisters to New York to perform a vaudeville act with him in the latest revue being produced by Francis Zaneville. The chorus girls seem a little jealous and wish they’d have a shot at the gig, but Eddie in his charm still manages to stay in their good graces.

In the next scene, we see the sisters hanging out together and waiting for Eddie. When he arrives, we realize he has not seen Queenie since she was a girl. This part was a little confusing to me, since he’s engaged to Hank and clearly aware of their act as a sister duo, but I tried to suspend disbelief. He’s very taken with her immediately; so much so that it was rather uncomfortable to watch as a viewer – particularly because I liked Hank and her pluck so much.

The timeline of the characters’ backstory may not be the biggest wrinkle in this movie- but we’ll get to that in time. The Broadway Melody was the first talking picture to win Best Picture, and the second overall. I’m not sure if it was the first-ever feature musical, but it was definitely one of the first, and I’ve very much been looking forward to seeing it. Released sixteen months after The Jazz Singer, it is from a time when talkies were a novel artform. In any survey of film history, the introduction of synchronized sound always gets a mention. The Transition to Talkies has become the stuff of legend in Hollywood lore, with the stories of stars like John Gilbert, Clara Bow and Buster Keaton inspiring later classics like Singin’ in the Rain and Sunset Boulevard. But while those later dramatizations are perennial classics, the actual output from this period is little-seen, making it something of a Hollywood ‘dark ages’. And there is something utterly irresistible about an artifact from a dark age.

THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991)

Come with us, back to Valentine’s Day, 1991. All over America, suitors are planning the perfect romantic evening. Dinner perhaps? And look, a new spooky movie opening today. What better than a few scares and the winter chill to send that special someone into your arms! I think this Valentine’s Day is going to end very well, don’t you? Two hours of cannibalism, mutilation, flying semen and lotion-in-the-basket later, I’m pretty sure The Silence of the Lambs ruined thousands of first dates, but it was on its way to becoming a modern classic.

Let me start by addressing the obvious: This is a movie that wouldn’t be made today. It is undeniably transphobic. Jame Gumb – the only manifestly queer character – commits crimes that are inextricably linked to his gender dysmorphia. This is a world where being trans is pathology, and one that can be expressed violently. I want to acknowledge this, but I don’t want to spend too much time belaboring the point, castigating a movie from almost three decades ago. I’ll leave the subject behind by saying that in writing this, I’m genuinely second guessing which pronouns with which to use in discussing the film’s antagonist- evidence that we’re living in a future The Silence of the Lambs could not anticipate.

Silence is a thriller in the tradition of Hitchcock. It plays like a magic show, with audience expectation managed by misdirection. We start with a young woman jogging alone at dawn. Are we about to witness a crime? No, it’s Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) training for the physical requirements of her training. Buffalo Bill cuts off his victim’s clothes. Are we witnessing some sex crime? No, he has an entirely different and macabre agenda. Of course there is the famous switcheroo at the film’s climax, where we think the FBI team is raiding Buffalo Bill’s house, but no – Starling walking alone into the villain’s lair and her comrades are in an empty house hundreds of miles away.

The most crucial act of misdirection, though, falls to an actor. Anthony Hopkins is tasked with giving a portrayal Hannibal Lecter sufficiently engaging that our eyes never wander to the plausibility of a middle aged psychiatrist-turned-cannibal who can pick locks, escape detection and seemingly kill at will despite having no allies and a decade of only whatever exercise could be managed inside a small cell. The veteran actor’s perversely charismatic cannibal snob is what allows the movie to work. It was a career defining- and award winning- performance for a reason. It probably also helps explain why an earlier adaptation of the character, sans-Hopkins was not a success.

THE DEPARTED (2006)

Our most recent Oscars film as part of our red carpet roulette project was The Departed, an American crime drama from 2006 directed by Martin Scorsese. I have to say, the first thing I commented on as we were watching this movie was the all-star cast. I looked at Mouse with each new person on the screen and said, “Wait – he’s in it too?!”

Indeed, it is chock full of heavyweights – Leonardo DiCaprio, Martin Sheen, Jack Nicholson, Matt Damon, Mark Wahlberg, Alec Baldwin. A story about Irish mob boss Frank Costello (played by Jack Nicholson) in Boston, the film was a success both critically and at the box office. While I am not a fan of many of his political ideas, Marky Mark is fan-freakin-tastic in this. He is so Boston I can’t handle it. It’s a film about loyalty, infiltration, trust, family, and ambition. I was prepared to not really care that much about this film, but I have to say it is one of my favorites that we’ve watched so far.

I did have one looming question, though: in a film with so many heavyweight stars, why did they cast a woman who was not nearly as famous as the lead? Vera Farmiga plays Madolyn Madden, the love interest of both Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon) and Billy (Leonardo DiCaprio). She’s great in the role, but this question did occur to me. Also, as ever, I wished in this epic film that there were more roles for women and that Madolyn herself was better developed.

So much Irish. So much Boston. Are you not clear about that? Just to be sure, we’re going to play Dropkick Murphys and put a shirt on Nicholson that says IRISH.

OK, let’s talk about Marky Mark, since you brought him up. I don’t fault Wahlberg’s acting. If you want a wicked accurate portrayal of a tough Bostonian, whom else would you call? But there’s something about the character of Dignam that I found overblown to the point of being distracting. He’s a ‘tough cop’, the guy who got here by way of hard work and street smarts, not education and high connections. I get it. But at some point I found myself wondering “How does someone this incessantly abrasive get himself into this extremely sensitive position on the police force?”

UNFORGIVEN (1992)

Allow me to pose a question. Is there any mode of storytelling more fundamentally American than the Western? Not just movies, but literature, visual arts, anything. The cowboy is nearly synonymous with America itself. And so my second question. Why is it that in the 90 years of Academy Awards- largely a celebration of the American film tradition- has that most uniquely American of film genres been awarded Best Picture only three times? In the Awards’ fourth year, Cimarron took the prize, and while I maintain for the record it isn’t as bad as its reputation, I think Cimarron is seen nowadays as a Best Picture in name only. A full 51 years passed before another Western took the Oscar (Dances With Wolves), then Unforgiven two years later. Since then, nary a Stetson has been seen on the awards podium.

In Unforgiven, Clint Eastwood (who also directs), plays William Munny, a reformed outlaw now widowed and struggling as a farmer. He is coaxed out of retirement by a young man seeking to carry out a contract on two cowboys who participated in the facial slashing of a prostitute. They’re joined by ex-outlaw Ned (Morgan Freeman) and run afoul of sheriff Little Bill (Gene Hackman) on their way to the job.

You love Cimarron so much, hehe. I think it may still rank as one of my least favorites of the films we’ve watched, but I am glad to have seen it. I have to say I have long held a prejudice against westerns, and this one wasn’t half bad. It’s hard to not despise Eastwood from my perspective because I think he has abhorrent political views, but his character is a compelling one in this film. The scenes where he is with his kids before he sets out on this expedition are my favorite; they tug at the heartstrings, and when you see that he is a bit frail and out of it, you almost feel like you should look away. This is the sort of feeling I got as a kid when my dad would trip or something – there was a sense of not wanting to witness him feeling any embarrassment, though maybe that is connected to some toxic and dangerous ideas we as a society have about masculinity.