thoroughly_modern_hillry Reviews

Victor/Victoria (1982)

What a Fitting Tribute

[23 September 2005]

I've read that Victor/Victoria is director Blake Edwards' cinematic "love song" to its star, Julie Andrews, his wife of 13 years at the completion of this film. Keeping this in mind after my first viewing of it, all I can say is...he must wholly, unequivocally adore her. (Now I do, too.)

I experienced this film at Arizona State University's September 2005 tribute to Blake Edwards, and despite my euphoria at meeting Mr. Edwards in person prior to the screening, my extremely favorable review of the movie is as unbiased as possible. Victor/Victoria is simply an excellent piece of entertainment, with dazzling color, beautiful songs, snappy, terse dialogue, and a seamless combination of romance, drama, comedy and music that only Blake Edwards could create.

Perhaps it is the truth in that observation that adds so much charm to it. Andrews is inarguably beautiful and presents us - or should I say amazes us - with her flawless musical numbers and incredibly impressive vocal range. Her comedic timing is surprisingly good, too. Those who, like me, are only familiar with Andrews as a wholesome, motherly family-film character will not necessarily be scandalized by this movie, but they will marvel at the complexities of her talent and how well she plays this role. Supporting characters Robert Preston and James Garner, the latter of whom is convincing as the handsome love interest (and does little else in the film, but it doesn't detract a bit - best leave the spotlight to Andrews, Preston and Mancini) are hilarious and keep the pace of the film fast enough to intrigue and delight, yet moderate enough to let us marvel in the aesthetic impressiveness and comedic and dramatic aspects of the film.

Henry Mancini's musical collaboration with Edwards, in producing the soundtrack to this movie, is breathtaking. The theme song is stirringly romantic, almost haunting, and it is woven into several pivotal moments in the film in such clever ways that it infuses undertones of romance and drama to simple dialogue scenes. If you don't find yourself humming "Crazy World" in the days after the credits roll on this one, you must not've had the sound up.

Even if you're hesitant to sample "newer" musicals, as I was, or if you're unsure of your ability to sit through a film with Fraulein Maria as an imposter drag queen in gay Paree, please don't let your preconceptions steer you away from this gem. Victor/Victoria is pure entertainment with memorable, lovable characters, phenomenal acting, delightful elements of several genres of film, and an unforgettable soundtrack. What a surprising, enduring piece of cinema.

Some Like It Hot (1959)

I'm a girl, I'm a girl, I'm a girl ImagirlImagirl...

[13 August 2005]

After just viewing 'Some Like It Hot' for the very first time, I must say that I can barely write a cohesive review of it. It is the finest and best-acted comedy I have seen, ever.

Even though it clocks in at just over two hours, SLIH is entertaining from beginning to hysterical end - barely slowing the pace to give a viewer time to get restless. The trio of lead actors, the snappy, innuendo-laden dialogue, the romance, the comedy, the snazzy music, the believable plot: all of these elements meld perfectly into a vivacious, vibrant movie.

While Tony Curtis doesn't disappoint with delivery here, it is Jack Lemmon and Marilyn Monroe who compete for the starring role - one well-deserved by both, to say the least. Lemmon's frustrated, desperate, easily-persuaded character pairs flawlessly with Curtis' scheming, womanizing 'Josephine', and the two, decked out in drag while fending off fresh bellboys and dirty old men, are endlessly facing new and hilarious obstacles at every twist in the plot. Lemmon simply shines here, whether he's struggling to keep his masculinity disguised among unsuspecting attractive women or running through the Seminole-Ritz in too-short bellboy trousers and black pumps.

I was truly surprised by Marilyn's performance here, too. While her overly-breathy sex kitten persona repels me from most of her films, she was extremely convincing as the sweet, innocent singer in the all-girl band who keeps a flask in her garter and befriends the dynamic duo in drag.

'Some Like It Hot' oozes with sexuality without being crass; it achieves almost-constant comedy without degrading itself with lowbrow humor or extreme slapstick; it paces its musical numbers, its storyline gives needed character depth and definition to its protagonists, it balances lighthearted, good-intentioned levity with conscience and grace. Don't let the black-and-white turn you off. 'Some Like It Hot' is a great movie all the way through - this is the kind of film that defines 'rewatchability'. You won't be disappointed.

Oh, and aside from Milton Berle, the usually endearing, adorable Jack Lemmon is probably the most hideous woman ever to grace the silver screen.

An American in Paris (1951)

A Bored American

[12 August 2005]

Riding high on the thrill of a major crush on Gene Kelly after seeing two of his films consecutively - the vivid, unforgettable "Singin' in the Rain" and the low-key drama "Marjorie Morningstar," the next logical step in my infatuation was to rent "An American in Paris" and revel in Kelly's handsome grin, smooth, romantic voice and amazing footwork. Right? Right. Kelly is handsome in this movie; his sentimental voice, intact - but make no mistake, this film simply doesn't measure up to what can be expected of a star like Gene Kelly, and it does not come close to utilizing his talents nor those of Leslie Caron, not to mention the opportunities afforded of a film set in vibrant, post-WWII Paris.

Aesthetically, AAiP is a disappointment. The costumes aren't bright, memorable or striking in any way, despite the slew of opportunities to introduce kicky skirts, sharp slacks or elaborate, colorful getups for larger dance sequences. The costume party that our protagonists attend is downright scary and quite distracting (and other than the satin jester suit - just plain wrong - Kelly does look fantastic throughout.) In terms of visual pleasure, we don't see much of Paris aside from a glimpse of the Sacre Coeur and some generic street scenes and cafe fronts.

Musically, there is little to glean from this film besides the ever-catchy "I've Got Music" to which Kelly frolics in his usual flawless and endearing way. But as soon as this scene closes and the street children scatter, so does the credibility of the movie, along with the viewer's interest. None of these songs are infectious, memorable, or expressive of what's happening in the movie; instead, most are little detours comprised of pretentious lyrics sung in unamusing accents, as though the directors had a quota of cheap, forgettable songs to fill in the allotted time frame.

Beyond that - and more importantly - the dance numbers fail to ignite; some simply seem discordant with the music they are set to, and most end in an overly dramatic, corny embrace, which succeeds in not heightening the romance or sentimentality of the movie, but in making the central love story - on which much is supposed to hinge - just as overly dramatic and corny.

While Kelly is a natural at his craft and is talented enough to slide into a complicated dance routine at a moment's notice (and pull it off in the scheme of things,) his supporting cast is lame, unamusing, and generally unsupportive, as far as secondary or 'static' characters go. Henri Baurel (Georges Gautery) is virtually unintelligible throughout, leaving one straining and struggling to comprehend the lyrics he's belting out - and Adam Cook (Oscar Levant) is ugly, depressing, pitiful at comic relief and quite frankly, an awful singer, even if he is an extremely talented pianist. His seemingly endless dream sequence in the concert hall is unnecessary, irrelevant and irritating.

1951 Newcomer Leslie Caron, despite immense unattractiveness, does not have enough scenes - nor is her character, Lise, given enough depth - to make her name beside Kelly. We never get to know her or to come to understand her affection for Kelly's charming Jerry Mulligan, or even if there is any. And while she plays a romantic lead, we basically only witness her giggling forcedly or waddling awkwardly en pointe, never expanding on Lise's significance in the plot line and so rendering herself somewhat inconsequential in the whole of the plot. Few of the numbers showcase her skill and versatility as a dancer, and no scenes at all are able to paint her as a talented actress.

All in all, I am a girl who loves musicals: I do not shy away from vibrant technicolor dance scenes; I don't oppose film dialogue making a segue into catchy songs or silly, dramatic soliloquies; I am even happy to trade a scrappy and somewhat uninteresting script for an unforgettable theme song, some fabulous chorus lines or involved dance numbers. An American in Paris, however, can't sate me on any level - musically, visually, storywise.

The film makes decent use of Kelly's charm and sex appeal, but it never gives Leslie Caron a chance to shine, nor does it truly explore life as an American in Paris. While it does have a memorable scene or two, AAiP fails to come to greatness or even achieve rewatchability-status. None of its separate elements - the music, the dance routines, the plot - measure up to the greatness that is Gene Kelly in an MGM Musical.

If you want France, go to Europe. If you want dance, rent Gene Kelly in practically any other movie (try 1952's Singin' in the Rain.) "An American in Paris" decidedly offers you neither - Gene Kelly at his finest nor the brilliant, alluring Parisian life.

A Kiss Before Dying (1956)

If RJ has the kiss of death, I wish he'da smooched me ten minutes in

[25 July 2005]

Lured in by the handsome jacket photo of Robert Wagner and, moreso, by the promise of Joanne Woodward's phenomenal acting, I rented 'A Kiss Before Dying', certain that I was discovering a long-lost gem of cinema that would soon become a favorite among other esoteric movies of the '50's and '60's. What actually happened, though, was my having to endure a drawn-out, slightly confusing, tiresome film that just smacks of 'struggling to be Hitchcock' while never managing to achieve the tension, drama or self-importance necessary to be a memorable film.

While Robert Wagner is somewhat an attractive novelty in most films, never really embodying an actor or the capabilities and depths which an actor should strive for, Joanne Woodward is of the most solid performers of her generation. So in light of the fact that two of J-Wood's strongest and critically best-received films - 'Three Faces of Eve' and 'The Long, Hot Summer' - were released within two years of this atrocity, 'Kiss' becomes almost laughable in its extreme, unjustified violence, glaringly unsolved crimes, and the general lack of depth of any of its characters.

What irritated me most was the script's lame and futile attempts - lacking clear motivation, nonetheless - to drill emotion from Dorothy and Ellen's crusty, rich father at random points in the film. His place in the plot is clumsily made understood through tiny blurbs in conversations throughout, so when he actually appears, there is no distinction as to who he is (and by this point in the film you'll be wondering if it matters and, how many minutes does this run? Seriously.) I was even more confused by the general misplacement of what I would assume would be 'proper emotion': remorse for murder; inconsolable sadness and grief at the death of a child and sibling; rage at at suspected murderer; suspicion towards guilty, sneaking faces. It is Ellen's and Mr. Kingship's quick verbal barbs that were supposed to increase the tension, further the plot and reveal motives - but they truly only bore and annoy. And confuse, too.

Beyond all of this, though, the storyline remains relatively uninteresting, and the means by which the characters endeavor to solve the various crimes themselves is dangerous, nonsensical, and truly stupid. I know the mid-1950's were a far cry from today's specialized crime units and DNA testing, etc., but Ellen Kingship's organizing meetings with criminals by herself is ridiculous. And our protagonists are simply not well-defined. We get little background on any one character and as a result, as a viewer there is little consequence in their deaths, surprising secrets, disappointments, losses, or triumphs.

'A Kiss Before Dying' starts out promisingly enough, what with its attractive, talented leads, its intriguing premise and the added allure of the indecent, amoral plot line (what a stir this must've made in 1956!). But when all is said and done, this big-screen drama is a big-time disappointment. (Joanne is still phenomenal, though!)

A New Kind of Love (1963)

Good, not great, Newman/Woodward pairing

[20 March 2005]

As far as pairings of Joanne Woodward and husband Paul Newman go, "A New Kind of Love" lacks the snappy plot and dramatic depth necessary to do its leading actors justice. Woodward steals the show as Sam, a homely and somewhat androgynous fashion designer often mistaken for a man (it's the pageboy haircut and constantly smoldering cigarette in her mouth); Newman is aesthetically pleasing (and alarmingly convincing) in the role of handsome, sarcastic Steve, a New York journalist who pursues more young women than hot story leads.

After an initial awkward opening sequence, the first forty or so minutes of the film are stimulating, with intriguing color schemes and costumes, quick wit and acerbic dialogue, beautiful Parisian scenery and an escalating plot line. Beyond that, however, the plot seems to drag, and frequent unnecessary departures are made from it - the musical montage with Maurice Chevalier, for instance, slows the film down and only serves to severely date the film (not to mention alienate any viewer who is clueless as to who, exactly, Maurice Chevalier is.) Some scenes are played out far beyond their initial artistic effect (the split-screen sequences), while others are confusing and impede the general flow of the storyline (Steve's visions of bawdy tales played out like sports), giving the story an air of ridiculousness instead of credibility.

All in all, this light comedy shines with the sheer romantic energy of Newman and Woodward (I found myself re-watching various parts of the film just to marvel at the undeniable chemistry between the two), but has none of the lasting impact of the pair's other films. It leaves one feeling a bit unsated, perhaps because of the overly-muddled plot that seems to have been convoluted merely to stretch the movie into a 90-minute romp - but the beautiful Woodward sparkles with natural talent, and Newman's on screen presence compliments hers seemingly without effort. Fans of Paul and Joanne will be charmed, but not moved, by this New Kind of Love.