Monthly Archives: March 2011

Lent: Part 8

The Quiet Man (1952) – So, an American who’s actually Irish (but who is actually John Wayne, and God help us all if he tries to do an accent, so he’s American) comes to Ireland. It’s not set in the American West, so it’s not a Western, technically. Oh, and also he’s a boxer, I guess. That’s so he can punch the shit out of somebody later. And the scene where he drags his wife by the arm for five miles: priceless.

Lent: Part 7

Julius Caesar (1953) – I spent two hours trying to come up with something funny or at least irreverent to say about this movie, but even Marlon Brando–the most predominantly American member of the classically trained cast–managed to deliver speeches that brought tears to my eyes. The best I’ve got is to say that I would do unspeakably filthy things to Marlon Brando, James Mason, and, yes, even John Gielgud.

If I may “borrow” a line from a facebook friend of a facebook friend: “Look out, Casca is going to come at you with a knife on March 15th” might have been a more useful prophecy.

Lent: Part 2

Battle: Los Angeles (2011) – Getting this down fast while I still remember that I saw this movie. By this time tomorrow, it’ll have faded into obscurity in my memory with every other military or alien invasion movie I’ve seen in the last ten years.

This movie runs according to the formula: ten to fifteen minutes of creating the broadest characters you’re supposed to care about, the rest of it dramatically killing them in the most predictable and obvious ways (“He didn’t deserve that! He didn’t deserve to die!“). The closest I came to caring about any of them was deciding which ones I wanted to die first. Unfortunately, the most insufferable characters live to the end.

Lent: Part 1

The Threepenny Opera (Die 3 Groschen-Oper, 1931) – I’m just going to get this out of the way: Bobby Darrin ruined “Mack the Knife”. Sing it in German with more menacing lyrics and an organ-grinder beat. I know, I know, just trust me. It turns out the song about a man who goes around stabbing people is supposed to be creepy.

I really do love Weimar-era film, which is good, since the chorus is rehearsing a show about Weimar-era Berlin.

So here we go: year 6. If I can’t be punctual, may I at least be funny sometimes.