Sidney Lumet es un director asociado al thriller clásico, al blanco y negro, conocido sin duda por ser el autor de uno de los mejores debuts cinematográficos de la historia: ‘Doce hombres sin piedad’, una película de carácter teatral que ha sido encumbrada, imitada, parodiada y venerada en los más de cincuenta años que han transcurrido desde su estreno. Sí, cincuenta años. Y aun así, Lumet sigue vivo, con 85 tacos, pero sacando en su semi-retiro una obra tan estimable como ‘Antes que el diablo sepa que has muerto’.
Propongo cuatro películas para conocer a Lumet, y participar así de esas conversaciones gafapastas que a veces uno se encuentra un viernes por la noche. Como cuando un grupo de amigos/conocidos habla de un capítulo de Los Simpsons, y sonríes porque precisamente ese capítulo sí lo has visto, y puedes abrir la boca para dar tu punto de vista.

1.

Doce Hombres sin Piedad (1957)

De cómo un jurado popular, compuesto por 12 desconocidos, ha de decidir sobre la inocencia o culpabilidad de un acusado de asesinato. Ahí que aparece Henry Fonda con cara de bueno, y uno a uno va convenciendo a los demás de su postura relativista. Ojalá una sola reunión de empresa, comunidad de vecinos, o qué narices, cualquier cena en la que debatimos sobre si el Barça es o no mejor que el Real Madrid fuera tan intensa, con tantas argumentaciones buenas, ricas moralmente y de una metafísica nada profunda pero productiva.
Tiene un remake de Nikita Milkahlov, que según me han contado, es estupendo.

2.

Punto límite (1964)

De cómo ‘Teléfono rojo, volamos hacia Moscú’ se pone un poquito serio y se pregunta con preocupación: nos vamos a cargar el mundo, ¿es el momento apropiado? Así que Henry Fonda, esta vez el presidente de EEUU con una interpretación logradísima, habla con el primer ministro ruso para posponer la tragedia. Se nota la limitación de presupuesto, y si no podemos permitirnos poner a soviéticos en la película, colocamos a un traductor/intérprete/psicólogo y todo arreglado. Walter Matthau es un político extremadamente frío y pragmático y tiene un par de líneas de diálogo que es para ponerse a aplaudir.

3.

Network (1973)

Aquí la llamaron ‘Un mundo implacable’, o algo así. Pero me da igual. Network es LA PELÍCULA sobre el poder de los medios de comunicación. Ahora medio universo la conoce porque sus fragmentos más tensos aparecieron el documental internetero ‘Zeitgeist’. Peter Finch (Óscar póstumo al mejor actor) es un conocido showman televisivo que se vuelve majara al comprender que la audiencia se antepone, en todo caso, a la ética y cualquier grado de humanidad. Pero es el único realmente cuerdo en un mundo de locos infelices, que necesitan la televisión como medio de expiación abstracta a la mediocridad en la que aceptan vivir.
La tengo en DVD original, y la reviso de vez en cuando.

4.

Antes que el diablo sepa que has muerto (2007)

Ethan Hawke y Philip Seymour Hoffman se marcan un tanto en estos papeles de dos hermanos pringados que quieren resolver sus problemas económicos (quien dice económicos dice ’su vida es una porquería absoluta’) por medio de la joyería de sus padres. Cometerán un atraco, se llevarán todo lo que puedan y el seguro cubrirá todo. ¿Perfecto? No. Como son unos pringados, todo les sale mal. Lumet derrocha inteligencia, ritmo y hasta alardea de un poderío visual y un sentido metafórico no del todo común en él. Todo hombre con sangre en las venas conservará en su recuerdo a Marisa Tomei, pero yo me quedo con Ethan Hawke cagándose en todo en la primera escena de la película, y Philip Seymour Hoffman yendo a casa de su camello. Tampoco se pierdan a Albert Finney pensando: “Dios, ¿en qué me equivoqué al intentar educar a estos mequetrefes?”

“It’s always difficult to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And wherever you run into it, prejudice always obscures the truth. I don’t really know what the truth is. I don’t suppose anybody will ever really know.”
~~Juror #8

For some men, it’s disturbingly simple to dismiss the full, oppressive weight a possibly innocent/possibly guilty defendant’s fate in the pursuit of fast, easy Jiffy Lube justice. Juror #8 (Henry Fonda), however, finds himself unwilling and unable to unload a “guilty” verdict because he’s got a pair of Yankees tickets in his pocket or dinner congealing on the table at home. His firm refusal to take facts at face value makes him the unwelcome voice of reason in Sidney Lumet’s taut, phenomenally acted “12 Angry Men,” a courtroom thriller that zeroes in on the ways petty grudges and prejudice cloud human judgment.

Perhaps, though, “courtroom thriller” isn’t quite the right phrase to describe “12 Angry Men,” since playwright/scriptwriter Reginald Rose sets nearly all the action outside the courtroom and inside the jury’s quarters.  This is a brilliantly strategic move, since it narrows our focus and enhances the claustrophobic atmosphere, forcing us inside a small, cramped, sweaty room bursting with big egos, smart mouths and short, explosive tempers. These close quarters offer unusually, and often uncomfortably, intimate glimpses into the jurors’ lives — their professions, their children, even their thoughts, beliefs, hangups. Director Sidney Lumet’s close camera angles enhance the tension immeasurably, literally backing his actors (and us) into corners that offer no escape route. Lumet, it seems, understands that true human nature reveals itself best when suffocated by four walls.

Indeed, “12 Angry Men” is as much a character study as it is a legal procedural, and it’s a credit to the actors that there are no throwaway characters or forgettable ones. Their personalities emerge slowly inside the jury room, where they sit deliberating what seems to be a slam-dunk case: a disadvantaged teen (John Savoca) is accused of murdering his father. There are two witnesses, a knife wiped clean of fingerprints. The teen has an alibi he can’t back up with details, a long rap sheet and a volatile relationship with his old man. Then the 12-man jury retires to deliberate, and things get heated. Juror 8 dissents immediately, urging his peers to question the case’s basis on circumstantial evidence. The remaining jurors, all convinced this young hood deserves the chair, include: 1 (Martin Balsam), the impatient foreman; 2 (John Fiedler), a shy but kind bank clerk; 3 (Lee J. Cobb), a belligerent, stubborn businessman with a runaway son; 4 (E.G. Marshall), a cool, impersonal stockbroker; 5 (Jack Klugman), who grew up in the same slums as the accused murderer; 6 (Edward Binns), a blue-collar man who abides his own moral code; 7 (Jack Warden), a slick, vain salesman; 9 (Joseph Sweeney), an elderly man who’s a keen observer of human behavior; confrontational bigot 10 (Ed Begley), a garage owner; 11 (George Voskovec), an immigrant who designs watches; and 12 (Robert Webber), a wishy-washy ad executive. Initially united in their commitment to quick Jiffy Lube justice, they resist Juror 8’s impassioned arguments until his logic starts to make too much sense to ignore. Slowly, very slowly, they all — excluding 3 and 10 — begin to listen, reason out the prosecution’s points. What’s more, they begin to care about what they’re doing more than what they’re missing by sitting in the jury chambers.

If this exposition makes ”12 Angry Men” sound like a film that’s all talk and no action, that’s because it is. But with acting this accomplished and a script this polished, that’s hardly a criticism. Lumet’s direction is virtually perfect, both invasive and remarkably detached; his camera becomes a character itself, elevating the tension, then abating it, pushing the actors into corners, then letting them wriggle free. This approach lets us know the characters, and it coaxes, too, amazing and emotional performances from each of the 12 actors. Voskovec and Fiedler offer light comic relief, while Sweeney finds an unexpected shrewdness in elderly Juror 9. Fonda underplays Juror 8 to great effect, never overacting or aiming for melodrama. But nobody matches Cobb in terms of purely frightening intensity; as Juror 3, he holds back nothing. He lets us feel the knife twist of his disappointment — in his son, in himself. He is the voice that reminds us that life renders objectivity impossible.

(The Grapes of Wrath) 

Filmes Comentados #10

Dirigido por John Ford.

Elenco: Henry Fonda, Jane Darwell, John Carradine, Charley Grapewin, Dorris Bowdon, Russell Simpson, O.Z. Whitehead, John Qualen, Eddie Quillan, Zeffrie Tilbury, Frank Sully, Frank Darien, Darryl Hickman e Shirley Mills. 

Roteiro: Nunnally Johnson, baseado em livro de John Steinbeck. 

Produção: Darryl F. Zanuck. 

- A crise provocada pela grande depressão nos Estados Unidos é o pano de fundo para este filme humanista e sensível de John Ford.

- O tema “amor a terra” é notável logo no inicio do longa (“Nasci aqui e vou morrer aqui!”) e os problemas causados pela migração é outro tema muito bem abordado por “Vinhas da Ira”.

- Curioso o termo “CATS” para os tratores Caterpillar que derrubam as casas.

- A empresa não é uma pessoa e, portanto, não pode ser ameaçada (“Em quem nós atiramos?”). As corporações passavam a dominar o cenário e as terras que até então passavam de geração para geração.

- Belo traveling que vai desde a família, passando pela casa destruída e em seguida cortando para o plano da sombra da família na terra. Agora eles são apenas sombra do que já foram um dia.

- John Ford dá um close no rosto de Tom Joad (Henry Fonda) quando este vê sua mãe para realçar a bela atuação dele, que emocionado parte para abraçá-la.

- “Essa é a minha terra. Não é boa, mas é minha”. Excelente frase que sintetiza o quanto viver em sua própria terra era importante para aquelas pessoas.

- “O governo tem mais interesse pelos mortos do que pelos vivos”. Crítica à desapropriação de terras e ao modo como aquelas pessoas foram tratadas durante este período importante de transição.

- O filme mostra como é conturbada a mudança do campo para a cidade. Essas pessoas são acostumadas a um estilo de vida que a urbanização não permitiria existir mais.

- A trilha sonora triste e melancólica simboliza a tristeza da família por deixar a terra que amam para ir à cidade. O enterro do vovô é embalado por outra melodia triste.

- A bela direção de fotografia capta com precisão as lindas paisagens durante a viagem da família.

- O caminhão simboliza a bagunça que a família estava vivendo longe de sua terra, num belo trabalho de direção de arte.

- Interessante a crítica embutida no discurso do homem que conta sobre sua vida dura na cidade, onde as 800 vagas são disputadas por milhares de pessoas, deixando 20 mil desempregados.

- O capitalismo e a ganância já ganhavam espaço em 1940. A urbanização e a evolução trouxeram também mudanças drásticas na vida das pessoas e infelizmente, pobreza e miséria. Ainda bem que alguns cineastas, como Ford e Chaplin, tinham coragem de criticar este sistema já naqueles tempos.

- Belíssima cena dentro da venda na beira da estrada, quando o dono (e depois a moça) percebe que a família está passando fome e vende os pães e doces por preços menores.

- “Não é preciso coragem se você não tem escolha”. O pior inimigo é aquele que não tem mais nada a perder. Ao tirar tudo daquelas pessoas, elas iriam mesmo lutar até o fim, pois já não tinham mais nada na vida.

- O rosto das crianças com fome no acampamento é de cortar o coração de qualquer um.

- Note como os empregadores se aproveitam da situação para pagar menos. Isto se aplica até os dias de hoje.

- Ford utiliza muitos fades para fazer a transição das cenas. Hoje seria deselegante, mas na época não era.

- “Nome? Continua Joad”. A revolta era evidente nele.

- A cena da porta 63 é tensa, com o som da sirene ao fundo e a posição da câmera de Ford que não mostra o que se aproxima do local.

- Henry Fonda e Jane Darwell (Ma Joad, a mãe de Tom) são os destaques nas atuações. A conversa dos dois no fim do filme é uma linda cena, que simboliza o desmoronamento da família. Por outro lado, mostra o nascimento de um cidadão disposto a lutar pelos direitos e se opor a opressiva política das empresas capitalistas. Repare como ela olha para o horizonte com os olhos marejados, sabendo que seu filho estava partindo para, provavelmente, nunca mais voltar. Quando ele diz que pensa em Casy, deixa claro que está disposto a lutar, como fez o amigo, até o fim.

- As palavras de Tom (“Estarei em todo lugar…”) são marcantes e belíssimas. É também o melhor momento da grande atuação do excelente Henry Fonda.

- Mãe e filho são muito parecidos, como fica evidente na frase “Não somos do tipo que beija, mas…”. Eles são diretos, realistas, mas nem por isso deixam de amar um ao outro.

- No restante do excelente elenco, merece destaque a atuação de Charley Grapewin como o vovô e John Carradine como Casy.

- A frase final “Nós viveremos para sempre, porque nós somos o povo!” deixa uma mensagem otimista, de que o povo, por mais explorado que seja, jamais deixará de existir. Seria interessante também que jamais deixasse de lutar por seus direitos. 

Texto publicado em 17 de Novembro de 2009 por Roberto Siqueira

Douglas A. Roberts, whose initials suggest an elitist organization (Daughters of the American Revolution), “has background,” as we used to say; he is one of those “college boys” that his captain, Morton, whose background is rough and working-class, disdains. (They treated him with contempt when he was a busboy.) During the waning days of the Second World War, Mister Roberts is the chief cargo officer of the U.S.S. Reluctant, called by the lackadaisical crew The Bucket, a cargo ship in the Pacific; Roberts is determined to be transferred to a ship that sees combat, but thus far Captain Morton has succeeded in thwarting each attempt by withholding official approval. “Doc,” the ship’s medico (an attendant to duty-shirking crew members and dispenser of aspirin), astutely says this about Roberts: “[He is feeling p]anic that the war is ending before he can get to it.”
     After all, Doug has been trained—and expensively—for combat; in the meantime, he condescends to his crew just a mite and tries ingratiating himself with them—a mark of noblesse oblige. He is doing his best to ameliorate the boredom of those immediately under his command. (He is a junior-grade lieutenant.) Morton, a “stickler for rules,” a non-combat martinet, relishes punishing the crew because that is how he can “get at” Roberts, to whom he say more than once, “I’m the captain of this ship, and don’t you forget it!” Roberts was born into social status; Morton can never have this (because the U.S. isn’t such a classless society as it likes to pretend), but his wartime military rank and dedicated service can confer on him a kind of status. This is why he fetishizes the palm tree that his ship won for its cargo maintenance and distribution, and his acute class sensitivity explains the antagonism he feels for Roberts, for whom everything has “come easy,” and his delight in lording over his crew, which in the main claims social origins akin to his own, but lacks his talent and ambition. Films by John Ford often possess a clash of distinct personalities at their core, and Morton is the “bad guy” to Roberts’ “good guy.” However, those who dump Mister Roberts into (pardon) the bucket of superficial entertainments I think miss the subtleties of the contest between these two characters and how these reflect unresolved social tensions in the peacetime America of the time at which the film was made. Ford’s next stop: the issue of race-hatred and racial conflict, in The Searchers (1956)—a topic to which Ford would return again and again.
     At some point Ford fell ill and Mervyn LeRoy stepped in to direct some of Mister Roberts, but perhaps not so much as some people claim. (On the basis of its theme and Brechtian distancing, I suspect that the film is largely Ford’s.*) It is John Ford, of course, who made this film so much more interesting than Thomas Heggen’s trivial play, which was principally a hit because of Hank Fonda’s lead performance as Mister Roberts. The film marked the seventh collaboration between Ford and Fonda, who came (literally) to blows during production over the main reason for professional divorce in the industry: “creative differences.” The two never mended their relationship. The scuttlebutt has been that Ford added more slapstick comedy to the proceedings than Fonda could stomach; but, I wonder, whether Fonda, beneath that complaint, wasn’t annoyed that “his” play was becoming his and Jimmy Cagney’s movie. We may not like Morton; indeed, we don’t. But Cagney’s phenomenal performance, to which Ford evidently devoted considerably more attention than he would have to some cardboard villain, slides with peerless grace between nuance and farcical exaggeration. Fonda, for his part, is wonderful; his Mister Roberts is prissy and pretentious to just the right degree, so that we see this and reflect on it without forfeiting our pleasure in his company. Moreover, his vocal inflections result in some hilarious comedy without sacrificing the character’s generally straightforward nature. Above all, though, Ford effortlessly prods us to question the hunger for bloody war that Mister Roberts exhibits beneath a cultured façade. Surely among their collaborations Fonda’s Mister Roberts is bettered by his Tom Joad and Wyatt Earp, but Fonda’s characterization is more complex than possibly it seems at first—more complex than perhaps he even wanted.
     Jack Lemmon is hilarious in his Oscar-winning role as Ensign Frank Thurlowe Pulver, in charge of the laundry room and crew morale—a coward who finds the spine to confront Captain Morton. William Powell, in one of his last film roles, is adequate as Doc; the scene where Doc, Frank and Doug “manufacture” scotch for (what turns out to be) a visiting contingent of WAVES, using such ingredients as iodine and hair tonic, has me weeping with laughter every time.

* Filmmaker/critic Glenn Andreiev has e-mailed me the following:

Hi, Dennis.
I had the pleasure of chatting with Betsy Palmer, at the time a young actress who was one of the WAVES in Mister Roberts. According to her, the film is mostly John Ford, whom she remembered as “rough speaking but professional.” She has fond memories of Cagney.

By the way, 20-12 is not an update of the old school 6-12 mosquito  spray.

I am still doing a post-viewing rehash in my head, trying to remember when or even if in recent years I’ve watched a better film than 2012.

District 9 comes to mind, at least as good but a bit hard to call it better.

Great script, a complete story well told in the traditional mode, with a beginning, a middle, and then (surprise!) an end. Quite unlike so much of the crap around these days.

Great director, Roland Emmerich extracted fine performances all around and managed to have a cohesive plot covered (see above) to keep it all on screen. I am sure that if this wasn’t a Sony release, this time the computer (updated from the beautiful black 5300 Powerbook Jeff Goldblum used to save the world in Independence Day) would have been a nice but slightly used Aluminum G4 Powerbook, not a steaming pile of VAIO. Ah, I digress…..

Great acting, John Cusack has to be considered to be a serious contender to jump past Tom Hanks to become the “everyman” of our time frame, as Henry Fonda personified so well in his.

And by the way, as you may have heard, there are at least a few interesting special effects shots on the screen in this film, and they have been done fairly well.

This could possibly be why it’s my new “How the fuck did they do that” said aloud count leader.

Well, gee, vote for me

Most film protagonists, especially of the sort with which viewers are supposed to sympathize, are neither morally perfect nor totally evil. Exceptions tend to fit into the former category, however, as is the case with John Ford’s film Young Mr. Lincoln. It’s the sort of film that a stranger to the planet Earth might watch and wonder just what its point is. Anyone else, especially a born and bred American, knows intuitively all too well what a film like this is doing. If it were a simple fiction, Young Mr. Lincoln would seemingly have little appeal in terms of its creating a character who challenges the viewer to think critically and evaluate Abe Lincoln’s ideas, passions, words, and deeds. A black-and-white good guy, the alien viewer would likely see this film as a moral propaganda piece, something to show classrooms of youths in order to put a friendly face on justice, goodness, and determination.  Since the days of Superman: The Movie, even the comic book superhero genre has stuck to the convention of a protagonist who is flawed, who sometimes acts in her, but usually in his, best interests at the expense of the people he is supposed to protect.

Man of the earth

Henry Fonda plays Lincoln with a moral aloofness and John Ford shoots the film keeping the hero at an untouchable distance. Sometimes Lincoln’s attitude is sort of well-golly-I-don’t-know, and other times he preaches his convictions like a Baptist minister. He’s presented as unassuming and gentle, a man of nature with limited learning but an unlimited capacity for pure knowledge, the kind that can only be used for good. He is tall, of course, and his opponents tend to be short. Intellectually he towers above everyone else even more than he does physically. Though education is illustrated through Lincoln as something that builds moral character, he makes some interesting statements about a little old woman (not that old, really) whose lack of education makes her all the more pure, innocent, and, of course, womanly.

Two-fistin'

Technically speaking, this film is in the neighborhood of perfect. Even in 1939, John Ford knew well what he was doing, how to point a camera, and, even in a sometimes-unsubtle film, how to say a lot with a little. The idea of depicting the early life of one of the great American legends must have been fairly novel at the time, the sort of thing that filmmakers nowadays love doing. For example, see Che Guevara in The Motorcycle Diaries. (Most of the time now, however, filmmakers give into the pressure to film the rest of the person’s life. Examples abound.) Depicting only the early life can be an easy way to make a biopic, since the filmmaker is under much less pressure to take a position about the individual. This way, the film can wax Freudian about what made an otherwise questionable character do what s/he did. Ford is at an advantage here, having chosen as his subject the image of a man universally loved at least in the 1930s northern US, if not universally in the South. Ford hones in a little closer than, say D.W. Griffith did in Birth of a Nation, although a similar respect keeps both directors from even remotely or suggestively tainting Lincoln’s image. In the era of the Depression and on the even of the US entrance into WWII, it makes sense that Ford’s Lincoln would be exactly the image to encourage and inspire Americans to see their own humble existence as only the beginning of something that would later be remarkable.

Point blank

Man of the people?

The man. The myth. The hat.

Ending on a pedestal

This is a list I’ve truly been prepping for, for about a year now. About a year ago I had only seen a couple westerns that I had actually enjoyed (a few of those made this list), and I realized as a lover of movies I have not seen nearly enough westerns. So, I filled my netflix queue and got to watching and enjoying. I realized two things while watching the many westerns I did.

First of all, I’m quite sorry to say and I know many won’t agree with this statement and might even just X out of this page as soon as they read it, but an opinion’s an opinion and I’m not gonna lie to agree with society. I found John Wayne to be overrated. I’m just not a fan. I liked a few of his movies, such as The Searchers and True Grit, and my favorite would probably have to be The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, but that didn’t even make the list. It probably would be 11 or 12 though if I were to add on to this list.

Secondly, and much more importantly, I realized that Western genre is one of my favorites and this list list would be harder to make than I thought. I was very right. Through watching this dying genre I found not only fantastic westerns, but also some of the greatest movies I’ve seen of all time. Well, I’ve been waiting to do this for a very long time now. Here are my top ten favorite westerns of all time.

10. The Outlaw Josey Wales

Some of Eastwood’s best all around work in both acting and directing really shine in this film. There was only one other Clint Eastwood directed movie that was able to surpass this one and its listed later on this list. The story is a surprisingly  heart felt one and its told to near perfection.

9. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

This is the newest western to be placed on this list and in my eyes this movie is a breath of fresh air because it showed that great westerns can still be made today. Brad Pitt and Casey Affleck are phenomenal. A brilliant cast and script was combined to tell the very true and quite epic tale of the assassination of one of the most famous western outlaws there ever was.

8. The Magnificent Seven

There’s not much you can really say about The Magnificent Seven except that you have to let the movie speak for itself. Needless to say, the cast is stupendous and there are many great scenes. Most importantly though, There’s not much that compares with the camaraderie you feel with each character when that theme music comes on.

7. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

At the heart of this classic lies what may be the most iconic duo of all time. Paul Newman and Robert Redford play so impeccably well off each other that every scene is made real and memorable. The timing of every witty crack is absolutely perfect, the action sequences are highly entertaining, while sticking to realism and the finale is breathtaking.

6. Tombstone

Tombstone is a fantastic film that just barely misses my top five. Tombstone is the greatest telling of the now classic tale of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday. There are many memorable parts, from the classic OK coral shoot-out, to Holiday’s tricks with a tea cup in a bar. There’s something for everyone in this flick because even if you don’t find solace in the fantastic scenes, you will certainly find enjoyment out of Val Kilmer’s masterful performance as Doc Holiday.

5. For A Few More Dollars

For A Few Dollars More is a fascinating character study of bounty hunters in the old west. It’s the second film in Sergio Leone’s Man With No Name Trilogy, but as with every movie in the Dollars trilogy, it stands alone as its own fantastic story. Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef make for a very interesting and entertaining pair in the old west. Leone builds tension, keeps you guessing, and in the end he most certainly does not disappoint.

4. The Proposition

The Proposition is another western that is relatively new. It was made only four years ago and I believe it is one of the greatest westerns of all time, only surpassed by some of the greatest movies I’ve ever seen. The plot of The Proposition is genuinely simple, yet superbly poetic. In the Australian Outback, a man is hired to kill his older brother in order to save his younger one from the noose. It’s the most brutal western I’ve seen and it never lets up till its pitch-perfect ending.

3. Once Upon a Time in the West

By far the greatest title for a western I’ve ever seen, if not just the greatest title for a movie. I mean, what can possibly indicate better that you’re about to watch an epic masterpiece than a title like that. Anyways, besides a great title Sergio Leone’s complex, gritty, western tale of revenge and mayhem is so amazing that it was hard to even put it at three. I’m going to say this right now, Sergio Leone builds tension better than Hitchcock does. Every single scene from the (waiting for the train) opening to the final showdown, your always on edge. I’d also like to say that Ennio Morricone is probably the greatest film composer in history. Westerns almost always have fantastic scores, but this is my favorite of any western score. Last, but certainly not least I have to mention Henry Fonda’s flawless performance as the ruthless western gunslinger Frank, certainly out of character for him and in my opinion; his best work.

2. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Most commonly called the classic western and for good reason. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly is nothing and I repeat nothing short of a masterpiece. If I’m not mistaken I think the Man With No Name trilogy is the only trilogy that truly gets greater with each film. Leone’s skill for building tension, which has attempted, but never matched, was never greater than in every single, intricately plotted, scene of this movie.

What Sergio Leone, Clint Eastwood (Blondie-The Good) , Lee Van Cleef (Angel Eyes-The Bad) and Eli Wallach (Tuco- The Ugly) have given us is masterful look at the west and adventures, and subsequent stories it inspired. A story full of depth and characters, whether that be the good guys, the bad guys, and the ones in between. A timeless epic that savors my hunger for excellence with each passing scene eventually leading to what is probably the most iconic and greatest western showdown/ending ever put on screen. And for this, from the bottom of my heart, I thank them.

1. Unforgiven

As I said in the past, this was a difficult list to make, but there is not a doubt in my mind when it comes to number one. Clint Eastwood starred in many classic westerns including Sergio Leone’s classic Man With No Name Trilogy. Than he directed some of his own great westerns. His knowledge on the genre grew over years of experience and he than gave us the greatest western of all time. Unforgiven is western that was able to do what no other western was able to do. It showed us what the west really. Unforgiven showed us that a ruthless killer could fall off his horse or miss a shot.

Unforgiven shows the realistic West where no one could really be considered the good guy, not even the guy your rooting for (William Munny- Clint Eastood in an Oscar nominated performance) ,  and especially not the sheriff (Little Bill Dagget- Gene Hackman in an Oscar winning performance). Unforgiven was a masterful look into a world we’ve never seen. We thought we had, but we realize that was all just fantasy. Unforgiven mixes dark realism with the  fantasy Western genre. Add brilliant acting and characters, fantastic writing and direction and the result is not only the greatest western of all time, but one of the greatest movies ever made. A true masterpiece of our time worthy of recognition and praise.

The first and most brilliant part of John Ford’s Cavalry Trilogy is Fort Apache; the only Ford film to star both Henry Fonda and John Wayne, it pits two characters against each other who epitomize different aspects of the military impetus: purity and practicality; careerism and leadership; military orders and military order. Although this powerful film also lays additional claim to one of Ward Bond’s few good performances even for Ford, it is most important for the clash between Lt. Col. Owen Thursday and Capt. Kirby York. In tandem they represent both the impossibility of the military, or of any other police force, to determine America’s fate and of its ultimately coming together.
     Wayne is magnificent; however, Fonda’s acting surpasses Wayne’s. In my essay on Ford’s The Grapes of Wrath I wrote the following: “As Fonda plays him, Tom [Joad in The Grapes of Wrath] is an Everyman precipitously poised at crossroads where (to us who watch) great decency and great viciousness seem equal possibilities. Fonda’s Tom Joad, then, is the quintessence of human possibility. After the war, Fonda’s masterful portrait of Lt. Col. Owen Thursday, loosely based on Custer, in Ford’s mind-socking Fort Apache (1948), shows, by contrast, humanity very nearly past all possibility. . . . One of them heartrending, the other unexpectedly so, these two performances from a staggering career can remind us how cleanly Fonda could get to the marrow of the American male—here, as one who is dangerous against authority, and as another who is equally dangerous with authority. So very differently these two men behave, as on the dance floor, where Owen’s joyless military polish and correctness contrast with Tom’s heartfelt klutziness and simple pleasure. Yet, in the imaginative space that Ford and (until their falling-out) his favorite actor fill in with such precision and depth, some perplexing, elusive thread of character hints that Tom Joad and Owen Thursday are alternate possibilities of the same fractured soul, that each of them has latched onto a different way of feeling whole, useful, meaningful and at home in the United States, where for better or worse they find themselves.”
     After the holocaustic confrontation between Thursday and the Indians, in which Thursday sacrifices himself, like Capt. de Boeldieu in Jean Renoir’s La grande illusion (1937), for the future of his nation, in Thursday’s case, most immediately and personally for his daughter and her beloved, Lt. Michael O’Rourke, York assumes command and, in replacing Thursday, a philosophical position halfway between Thursday’s and his own former one. The press presses; what happened on the battlefield? York promotes what he feels is a necessary lie, which will give the military as well as the nation it represents another short-term shot of in the arm, while Ford, in baring media subservience to the lie, “prints the truth” and moves us to investigate the discrepancy. He would return to this material with even sharper focus and even more of his signature Brechtian distancing in his masterpiece, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962).

I recently watched this movie for my Narratives class and now it’s quite easy to understand why it’s considered a classic.

This story does a great job of exploring the human tendency to rely on heuristics. The characters face a struggle in their search for ’solid facts’ as they try to rid themselves of personal biases and preconceived notions about what the ‘truth’ ought to be.

It has also spurred in me a new found interest in Henry Fonda who is considered one of the greatest actors of all time.

Obra maestra tanto en la forma como en el fondo. Mirada a los abismos de la mente y documental de una investigación policial. Contraposición entre sociedad e individuo con forma de “thriller” persecutorio. Afilada disección de la América de la época  a través de la naciente mitología del “serial-killer”. Retrato sórdido de la neurosis ciudadana y la hipocresía cotidiana… Una película inagotable, tanto en su propuesta formal como en su capacidad de penetración psicológica (y cuya sombra pude verse con claridad en ese monumental fresco que es el “Zodiac” de David Fincher o en la nada despreciable y muy agobiante “Summer of Sam” de Sipike Lee), que se sigue con interés creciente gracias a una narración vertiginosa, que no desdeña ni el humor  ni los detalles truculentos. Muy bien interpretada además, con un Curtis demoliendo su imagen de galán; un rostro pétreo, una máscara de humanidad y la mirada del que ya no está aquí, e inolvidable toda la película en su conjunto.

Fleischer y Curtis junto a RIchard H. Klein, autor del sobebio trabajo fotográfico

Filmada por un Richard Fleischer en plenas facultades, no solo es un film rotundo que se inscribe con abrumadora personalidad en la nueva corriente hiperrealista del gran “thriller” policiaco de su época sino que deja más que cristalino el asombroso magisterio de un genuino artesano y director de raza cuya aportación y carrera aun están pendientes de una verdadera reivindicación y eso pese a contar con títulos de justa celebridad como “Los Vikingos” (1958), “Soylent Green”(1973), “ 20.000 mil leguas de viaje submarino”(1954), o menos conocidas (o recordadas)  pero no menos jugosas, léase ( solo una representación): la extraña epopeya bíblica a contrapelo “Barrabás”(1962), la desoladora (y rodada en España) “Fuga sin fin”(1971), la más influyente de lo que parece “Terror ciego”(1971), un par de perlas como “Sábado trágico”(1955) o la hermosa “La muchacha del trapecio rojo”(1955) y desde luego su otro estrangulador, un film de una aspereza y crueldad en el límite de lo soportable; “El estrangulador de Rillington Place”(1971) en el que un viscoso y estremecedor Richard Attenborough personificaba al nefando John Reginald Christie en el demolido (literal y metafóricamente) Londres de la post-guerra.

Dividido en tres partes, aunque casi podrían considerarse dos partes y un prólogo que abarcaría hasta la aparición de De Salvo (y Curtis, claro) en pantalla, un hecho que no sucede hasta el minuto cuarenta, un alarde de confianza y un perfecto ejemplo de uso de los mecanismos del “thriller” por parte de Fleischer que es capaz de sacar de cuadro al protagonista (y a la estrella) de la película durante un cuarto de la misma, jugando tanto con la creación del clima como con las expectativas de espectador. Este prólogo se centrará en reproducir con minuciosidad las pesquisas policiales para cazar al estrangulador, de quien solo vemos los resultados no las maneras. La policía comandada por el firme personaje de Fonda (muy bien escudad por el siempre eficiente George Kennedy como poli duro), un humanista enfrentado brutalmente a lo peor del hombre que no se verá satisfecho por atrapar sino que querrá saber, ¿por qué? Una pregunta sin respuesta o peor, una respuesta demasiado aterradora.

Fleischer pone aquí en juego un “primer” estilo (de los tres que se emplearán, uno por cada parte de la película), abrazando el “police procedural” con afán documental pero voluntad estilizadora, es decir narrando con vértigo, deslizando no poco humor y proponiendo un acertado retrato de ambientes con la audacia de presentar realidades como los clubes homosexuales (también en otro excelente policiaco de finales de los 60 como “El Detective” que Gordon Douglas dirigió para un amargo Sinatra). Aparecerán mentalistas, criminales sexuales torturados, vecinos acusicas…todo un tratado sobre paranoia, maledicencia y aburrimiento.

En la segunda parte (o primera tras la larga introducción) hace su entrada Albert De Salvo, el asesino y acompañándolo el celebérrimo recurso de la “split screen” como reflejo de su mente. No es exactamente una pantalla partida sino un plano múltiple, viñeteado, a veces una misma acción desde diferentes puntos de vista, otras diferentes hechos en el tiempo confluyendo en el mismo espacio cinematográfico y otras más como visiones de una mente alterada. Casi cubismo aplicado al cine, a la vez técnica narrativa rompedora, alarde estético aun hoy sorprendente, experimentación sensorial y plasmación subjetiva de una percepción esquizoide.

La primera aparición del “killer” no puede ser más significativa, en casa con su familia y viendo por la televisión el entierro de Kennedy, el momento aceptado en el imaginario americano como “la pérdida de la inocencia”. Cariñoso y al parecer conmovido, la manera de encuadra toda la escena no deja lugar a duda, algo no funciona. La compulsión empujará a De Salvo a matar, el padre de familia es la bestia.

Fleischer no se anda con chiquitas ala hora de mostrar el “modus operandi” (asaltos a mujeres solitaria con la excusa de arreglar algún problema de fontanería), los ataques son resueltos con contundencia (justamente mítico el momento en el que Curtis rasga la camisa de una de sus víctimas mientras le tapa la boca agarrándola por detrás y la expresión erotizada del actor) y velocidad. Una elección que además de rechazar la espectacularización de la violencia introduce una serie de lecturas psicoanalíticas y sexuales que apuntan a la impotencia (no en vano una las muertas aparece con el palo de una escoba en la vagina). Una de las víctimas, una joven Sally Kellerman salvajemente golpeada, sobrevivirá precipitando la caza.

El recurso al la “split screen” desaparece en el tercer bloque con la captura de De Salvo al no ser ya necesario ni narrativa ni dramáticamente, dando paso a una poderosísima abstracción visual que supone otro de los puntos de mayor audacia formal de la película, un nuevo requiebro estético de prefecta coherencia interna. Forzado por el fiscal al que interpreta Fonda y su necesidad de conocimiento, De Salvo comenzará una batalla contra si mismo, entre la lucidez intermitente y el mantenimiento de la máscara, pero al verse obligado a enfrentar su auténtica naturaleza se encerrará en si mismo y con el la imagen, hará lo mismo hasta la conversión del decorado en un abisal fondo blanco.  Rematado con un estremecedor final proyectado hacia atrás con un efecto de extrañamiento alucinatorio. Obra maestra.

split mind

El estrangulador de Boston (The Boston strangler)

Director: Richard Fleischer

Año: 1968

País: Estados Unidos

120 min.

Fotografía: Richard H. Klein

Música: Lionel Newman

Guión: Edward Anhalt

Reparto: Tony Curtis, Henry Fonda, George Kennedy, Murray Hamilton, Hurd Hatfield

La copertina dell'LP della colonna sonora.

Tra pochi giorni partirò per San Francisco per presentare un paper sul cinema di Tonino Valerii, concentrandomi sul versante Western. Ne ho approfittato in questi giorni per rivedere i suoi film di quel genere, tra cui il celeberrimo Il mio nome è Nessuno, e per vedere C’era una volta il West, grande capolavoro di Sergio Leone.

Beh anellidi, han voglia gli americonzi a chiamarlo “Spaghetti Western” con tono di denigrazione. Delle sceneggiature così, una costruzione dei personaggi da mozzare il fiato, una scelta di facce di attori assolutamente superlativi… non mi stupisco che il cinema italiano di quell’epoca sia considerato da molti, tra cui Tarantino, come una pepita d’oro.

Inoltre, va detto, vedere Henry Fonda prima eroe degli eroi, e poi cattivo dei cattivi, è davvero una bella esperienza. Consiglio a tutti di vedere i due film uno dopo l’altro, a voi la scelta dell’ordine.

La sombra aplastante de Leone ha ocultado demasiados directores talentosos que parecen no tener mayor mérito que la explotación vergonzante de los talentos del maestro pero una mirada más desprejuiciada o menos miope hace aparecer una enorme cantidad de tonos y colores diferentes, un puñado de directores que amén de otorgar su verdadera naturaleza al “eurowestern” construyendo verdaderamente el género con sus aportaciones revelan no pocos casos de auténticas personalidades y talentos genuinos. Entre ellos (gente como Corbucci, Sollima, Questi, Margheriti, Castelari, Lenzi…) siento especial debilidad por el heterodoxo talento de Tonino Valerii, curiosamente el que quizás más halla tenido que soportar el sobrepeso creador de Leone y eso pese a que su estilo es sin duda el menos influenciado, siendo un director mucho más interesado por el periodo clásico americano y que cuenta en su haber con una obra mayor, no ya del “spaghetti-western” sino del western en general como es “El día de la ira” una de las más agudas reflexiones sobre la violencia, el poder, el desencanto y la construcción de la personalidad que jamás halla alumbrado el género. Descontando otros acercamientos como la notable y muy original “La muerte de un presidente” con Gemma investigando nada menos que un magnicidio inspirado en el de Kennedy, una pieza revolucionaria (y de comandos) como “Una razón para vivir y una para morir” y por supuesto esta, “Mi nombre es ninguno” el film en el que Leone empuja a Valerii fuera de cuadro pese a que la dialéctica entre clasicismo y modernidad sea puramente “valeriiana” (tensión presente incluso en su único y estimulante “giallo” “Sumario sangriento de la pequeña Stefania”) y que la elegancia a de los mejores momentos de su realización refiera claramente al cine previo del director y no a la mucho más enfática y estilizada (y mucho más poderoso también) impronta de Sergio Leone. Aun así esto no implica no reconocer la labor del director romano como “gestador” del proyecto e incluso como casi co-director (la dilatación temporal de algunas escenas y cierta parsimonia interna llevan su marca) sino un intento de otorgar a Valerii (e incluso a ese extraordinario guionista y una de las personalidades en la sombra de la edad dorada del cine popular europeo que fue Ernesto Gastaldi) lo que en puridad le pertenece de este extraño “SW” profundamente cinéfilo, que reflexiona abiertamente sobre el fetichismo de la imagen a través la metatextualidad post-moderna.La anécdota argumental es mínima: un otoñal pistolero deseoso de retirarse es perseguido por un admirador que desea convertirlo definitivamente en leyenda (y para ello, para transcender el héroe debe obligatoriamente morir, aunque sea de mentirijillas y escenificado e inmortalizado ante la cámara) en este interesantísimo y muy elaborado en todos sus aspectos aunque parcialmente fallido “eurowestern” de carácter casi experimental en su decidido intento de reflexionar sobre el cine, el género y la ficción desde dentro de la misma y sobre el proceso de construcción los mitos populares sin olvidar ni la diversión, ni la aventura, ni la autoironía.

Confrontación/emparejamiento de dos estilos contrapuestos y finalmente complementarios, el western clásico y el nuevo “spaghetti bufo” popularizado por la saga “Tinidad”, que en sus mejores momentos resulta literalmente dos películas/estilos en una. Con las partes protagonizadas por Fonda filmadas e interpretadas con un modo estilizado y elegíaco de suma elegancia, mientras los momentos con Hill son rodados con las maneras impuestas por “spaghetti” del momento (uso de cámara rápida, “zooms” a mansalva, sonoras bofetadas, comicidad chusca,etc…) y en las que comparten ambos los estilos compiten por imponerse tratando el “presente” de infiltrarse en el “pasado” siendo así el desastrado Terence Hill el que trata de dirigir la trama desde dentro de la propia película. Su personaje (representa) viene desde el futuro del género para dinamitar y reducir el pasado del mismo a lo esencial, el mito. No en vano su personaje es “ninguno” (nombre de resonancias incluso mitológicas, recordar que así o en su variante “Nemo” se hacía llamar Ulises cuando vencía con engaños al cíclope Polifemo al que nadie/ninguno podía matar) ya que en realidad no pertenece a esta película sino a otro tiempo.

Muy bien interpretada por ambos actores que saben mantener sus registros (y “looks”) opuestos permanentemente comprendiendo la disonancia que el invento pretende transmitir. Rodada poniendo sobre la mesa una gama de recursos visuales riquísima (a juego con su patrimonio conceptual)  que abarca de lo sofisticado a lo burdo, pero en la que por desgracia la (sana) ambición y la dificultad de la operación hacen que el artefacto chirríe y no siempre funcione pesando unas partes sobre otras, ser a la vez una cosa y su parodia resulta demasiado dificultoso (lo mismo ocurre con los “Piratas” de Polanski por ejemplo). Con todo destaca por su originalidad e inteligencia, por su decidida densidad de ideas oculta bajo las disonancias y desde luego merece ser revisada y examinada, además Morricone firma una de sus mejores bandas sonoras, que ya es decir.

Mi nombre es ninguno (Il mio nomme è Nessuno)

Director: Tonino Valerii

Año: 1973

País: Italia/Francia/Alemania

130 min.

Fotografía: Giuseppe Ruzzolini

Música: Ennio Morricone

Guión: Ernesto Gastaldi

Reparto: Henry Fonda, Terence Hill, Jean Martin, Piero Lulli, Mario Brega

We’ve been moving to a new apartment, which is why there haven’t been a lot of posts lately. All our movies out from Netflix are long, epic things that we’re too busy to watch. But here’s a post anyway:

People Who Are Awesome.

Here are a few random people who happen to be awesome. I’m just saying.

Henry Fonda
Evidence:
- The Grapes of Wrath, 1940 (Tom Joad)
- The Ox-Bow Incident, 1943 (Gil Carter)
- Once Upon a Time in the West, 1968 (Frank)

Frank Oz
Evidence:
- Sesame Street, 1969-? (Bert/Grover/Cookie Monster)
- The Muppet Show, 1976-1980 (creative consultant/Fozzie/Ms. Piggy/Animal/Sam the Eagle)
- The Muppet Movie, 1979 (Fozzie etc.)
- The Dark Crystal, 1982 (co-director/Aughra/Chamberlain)
- The Muppets Take Manhattan, 1984 (director/co-writer/Fozzie etc.)

Quentin Tarantino
Evidence:
- Pulp Fiction, 1994 (director/writer)
- Kill Bill, 2003-2004 (director/writer)
- Inglorious Basterds, 2009 (director/writer)

Don Hertzfeldt
Evidence:
- “Billy’s Balloon,” 1998 (director/writer)
- “Rejected,” 2000 (director/writer/voices)
- “The Meaning of Life,” 2005 (director/writer/voices)
- “Everything Will Be Ok,” 2006 (director/writer/Narrator)
- “I Am So Proud of You,” 2008 (director/writer/Narrator)

Buster Keaton
Evidence:
- Sherlock Jr., 1924 (director/Sherlock Jr.)
- The General, 1927 (co-director/co-writer/Johnny Gray)

Stories May Differ, but End Result the Same

I always Wanted a Moustache Like Wyatt Earp

On This Date In History:  In the silver boom town of Tombstone, Arizona an event occurred that would be etched in western lore: The Gunfight at the OK Corral. Trouble is many historians say it didn’t happen at the OK Corral and it wasn’t much of a gunfight (here is one account).  The main protagonist in most of the tales was Wyatt Earp (see photo gallery).  This may be because the main story teller ended up being Wyatt Earp.   There had been many disputes between the Earps (Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan) and a group of ruffians known as the Cowboys. Five of the group gathered on this date in 1881 on a vacant lot near the OK Corral. Virgil was the town Marshall with Wyatt and Morgan as his deputies. Their friend and gambler, John (Doc) Holliday joined the Earps and the quartet went down the street to greet the Cowboys. At about 3 pm the gunfight began. About 30 seconds and 30 gunshots later, it was over.

You Don't Find Too Many Pictures of Doc Holliday

Unlike the movie versions, particularly Gunfight at the OK Corrall with Burt Lancaster and My Darling Clementine with Henry Fonda and Louisvillian Victor Mature, it apparently involved the Earps and Holliday walking up to the bad guys and gunfire breaking out. There is dispute about who fired the first shot but in the end, 3 of the 5 cowboys lay dead and all but Wyatt was injured, though one of the remaining Cowboys fled. There was a trial for the Earps but they were found not guilty with the judge saying they were “fully justified in committing these homicides.”

Wyatt Earp Later in Life

If you go and look this up, you will find all sorts of conflicting stories. The early movies were based almost solely on the reminiscences of Wyatt Earp, who spent his later years in Hollywood as a consultant to those making westerns. So, the stories tend to lean toward Wyatt’s heroics. Later films try to be more realistic. But there is no real clear cut truth. However, one interesting aspect to the Earp lore appears to be true. That is that Wyatt, through all of his gunfights and violent episodes never once was shot. The same can’t be said of those who rode with him or against him. Wyatt died in quietly in his sleep 1929 in Hollywood, CA. Many of the western movie stars of the day attended his funeral.

Great Fonda Waltz

Which is your favorite portrayal of Wyatt Earp in film? I kinda liked My Darling Clementine…Henry Fonda does a great dance.   Aside from Gunfight at the OK Corral, AMC lists ten films depicting Wyatt Earp.  The AMC list notes that the portrayal of Erroll Flynn in Dodge City (1939)  was of the character Wade Hatton, but claims the role was “clearly based on the gunslinger.”  Why would they not just use the name Wyatt Earp? AMC doesn’t say but maybe it was to protect the innocent.  But, it may have had to do with the fact that Randolph Scott had the role of Wyatt Earp in Frontier Marshal from the same year.        So popular is the lore of Wyatt Earp, Colleen Coughlin has an article on the Law in Popular Culture collection at the University of Texas’ Jamail Center for Legal Research called Law at the OK Corrall: Reading Wyatt Earp films.   

A Very Weird Film

One other thing about Victor Mature. He sorta retired in 1961 but he did appear in the Monkees last (and only) movie called Head. It was a really weird movie and was a sorta good-bye from the Monkees as their tv show either had been cancelled or if they made the film it would be cancelled. It’s really a psychedellic late 60’s film produced by Jack Nicholson and was totally un-Monkee like. Even Frank Zappa was in it. To give you an idea of how off the wall it was, the premise is that the Monkees are living in a world that is really a spot of dandruff on Victor Mature’s hair. See it if you can. There are really some pretty good songs(especially The Porpoise Song) that, again, are very un-Monkee-like.

Tuesday Evening

Weather Bottom Line:  The upper level disturbance associated with a surface low to our south is still out there, it’s just behind schedule.  A few days ago I was looking toward Monday for the clouds and maybe a shower but I thought it would be generally dry.  Well, the disturbance is still going to come through and will still bring clouds but most likely on Tuesday and I still think most of Tuesday will be dry but now indications are that Tuesday night we may see some showers.  Now, a vigorous storm system will be swinging through toward the end of  the week with a pretty deep trof in association.  Seems to me that Friday we will probably see rain and possibly some thunderstorms.  The SPC is looking more at the lower Mississippi Valley for strong storms on Thursday but it will be interesting to see how it shakes out around here.  There is a lot of low level convergence down there and the disturbance moving through is pretty robust.  The big stuff will probably get cut off down that way but, it will be of interest to see if some of that action moves up our way.   I say that the trof is deep but its more accurate to say its very pronounced.  By the time it comes our way, its already lifting up and out and damping.  Hence, we will get coolish but not too terribly cold for the weekend behind the cold front.

Jag har en viss förkärlek för westernfilmer. En kvarleva från min barndom, en barndom som utspelade sig på den tid repriser av westernfilmer var A-ok på SVT. Ja det kanske nu idag inte är förbjudet att visa repriser av gamla westerns, men tittarbehovet finns måhända i väldigt låg grad. Det sker således väldigt sällan att det går westernfilmer på TV.
Hollywood försöker då och då lyfta upp westerngenren, nu senast en cover av 3:10 to Yuma som gjorde en hyfsad vinst, hyfsad alltså, inte wowjowsamschwoookihey-hey-hey vad pengar vi tjänade.
Och det är väl där westernfilmen är idag. Men några års mellanrum kommer en ny film med ett par kända namn som gör en acceptabel vinst och därmed motiverar ett nytt försök om några år igen.

Henry som vår Frank

Men, om vi nu inte behöver westernfilmen längre? Borde vi inte fundera lite mer på vilka miljöer vi vill att våra historier utspelar sig i?
Vill vi att de ser ut såhär? Lysande dramaturgi och musik som är lika mycket film som själva cellulosan?

**spoiler*** slutscenen i mästerverket Once Upon A Time In The West

Eller vill vi se Johan Falk?

Inte Henry Fonda som vår Frank

Por Clara Jiménez Cruz

Basada en una novela de John Steinbeck y galardonada con el Oscar a Mejor director de la mano de John Ford, Las uvas de la ira muestra la situación de pobreza en la que se encuentra la familia Joad durante la Gran Depresión, razón por la que se ve forzada a empaquetarlo todo en su vieja camioneta y abandonar Oklahoma camino de California en busca de un futuro mejor.
Sacar a colación esta película en el momento que estamos viviendo tiene su razón de ser, ya que si la actualizásemos probablemente tendríamos una foto del panorama actual. Ver esta película teniendo en cuenta lo que esta sucediendo ahora en el mundo es un ejercicio de reflexión bastante útil para ayudarnos a comprender lo que nos ha llevado a esta crisis y el por que no encontramos responsables a la misma.

En un momento de la película hay una conversación entre un encargado de una de las multinacionales y el padre de los Joad encarnado por Henry Fonda en el que la única conclusión a la que se llega es que son las multinacionales las culpables de lo que esta ocurriendo, pero estas no tienen responsabilidad legal, ya que no hay cabeza de turco:  NADIE ES LA MULTINACIONAL.


Recuperen esta película desde los ojos de la actualidad y comparen, saquen sus propias conclusiones (probablemente no sean muy diferentes de las de Tom Joad, sufran con Ma Joed (interpretada por Jane Darwell, que gano un oscar con este papel), una mujer que sin entender muy bien lo que esta pasando lucha por mantener a su familia contra lo que haga falta, aunque algunos se queden en el camino…
Disfrútenla y, espero que sirva para que veamos cuales fueron las consecuencias de aquella crisis y que ahora padecemos, para no repetir el error.

Here is my personal list, one at a time, of the top ten movie characters ever. However, feel free to agree or offer better choices and argument. SPOILER CAUTION! The content below may give away some of the plot of the film(s) concerned.

<<< No.5 – Ellen Ripley —————————————- No.3 – Maximus >>>

#4  JUROR NO.8

Juror #8 (the marvellous Henry Fonda) in the 1957 classic ’12 Angry Men’ is the epitome of truth and unprejudiced justice. Sitting in a New York jury room without air conditioning on the hottest day of the year, he stands alone against 11 angry men who all believe the young defendant is guilty of murder. Fighting their egos and prejudices he demands that they discuss the case and that just because he probably is guilty does not mean he necessarily is and that the man should not be sent to his death as there is reasonable doubt.

Juror #8: I just want to talk.
Juror #7: Well, what’s there to talk about? Eleven men in here think he’s guilty. No one had to think about it twice except you.
Juror #10: I want to ask you something: do you believe his story?
Juror #8: I don’t know whether I believe it or not – maybe I don’t.
Juror #7: So how come you vote not guilty?
Juror #8: Well, there were eleven votes for guilty. It’s not easy to raise my hand and send a boy off to die without talking about it first.
Juror #7: Well now, who says it’s easy?
Juror #8: No one.
Juror #7: What, just because I voted fast? I honestly think the guy’s guilty. Couldn’t change my mind if you talked for a hundred years.
Juror #8: I’m not trying to change your mind. It’s just that… we’re talking about somebody’s life here. We can’t decide it in five minutes. Supposing we’re wrong?

Gradually he creates doubt in their minds, one by one, by presenting the flaws in the prosecution’s case and exposing the prejudices of those who seem to assume he is guilty.

Juror #2: It’s hard to put into words. I just think he’s guilty. I thought it was obvious from the word, ‘Go’. Nobody proved otherwise.
Juror #8: Nobody has to prove otherwise. The burden of proof is on the prosecution. The defendant doesn’t even have to open his mouth. That’s in the Constitution.

He has heard the same evidence the rest of the jury has, but he is concerned about the lacklustre defence who did not cross examine the key eye witnesses very strongly.

“Look, there was one alleged eye witness to this killing. Someone else claims he heard the killing, saw the boy run out afterwards and there was a lot of circumstantial evidence. But, actually, those two witnesses were the entire case for the prosecution. Supposing they’re wrong?”

Juror #3: You’re talking about a matter of seconds. Nobody can be that accurate.
Juror #8: Well I think that testimony that can put a boy into the electric chair SHOULD be that accurate.

We don’t find out much detail about Juror No.8, but we do discover that he has 3 children and makes his living as an architect. It’s only at the last moment of the film is his name revealed to be Davis. We do learn that he is quite a wise fellow and seems to be able to empathise with people from different backgrounds and sizes up the rest of the jurors very well. In particular, he is in opposition to the bull-ish Juror #3 (Lee J.Cobb) and knows how to push his buttons in order to make his point. He realises Juror #3 is angry at the defendant (who is accused of murdering his father) because of his own estranged relationship with his son.

Juror #8: Ever since you walked into this room, you’ve been acting like a self-appointed public avenger! You want to see this boy die because you personally want it, not because of the facts! You’re a sadist!
[Three lunges wildly at Eight, who holds his ground. Several jurors hold Three back]
Juror #3: I’ll kill him! I’LL KILL HIM!
Juror #8: You don’t *really* mean you’ll kill me, do you?

[then a bit later]

Juror #3: That business before when that tall guy, what’s-his-name, was trying to bait me? That doesn’t prove anything. I’m a pretty excitable person. I mean, where does he come off calling me a public avenger, sadist and everything? Anyone in his right mind would blow his stack. He was just trying to bait me.
Juror #4: He did an excellent job.

We also learn that Juror #8 has taken a strong interest in this case and is willing to take a risk. A big and convincing part of the prosecution’s case is that the accused had bought, and then claimed he lost,  a distinctive looking switch-blade that knife the night of the killing that the shop owner said was unique and the same as the murder weapon. Juror #8 asks to look at the knife in the jury room and in a dramatic moment #8 pulls out of his own pocket a similar looking knife and reveals he went to the accused neighbourhood, and even though it is against the law, he found he could easily buy a switch blade that looks just like the murder weapon.

Juror #10 (Ed Begley) alienates himself from some of the jury with his remarks on the accused based on the ethnic background of the defendant and in his frustration he shows his true racist colours with a rant that causes most to turn their back on him. Even though Juror #8 is winning his argument and exposing the flaws, errors and prejudices of his fellow jurors, he is not glib or egotistical and takes no personal pride in proving he is right. He ignores the personal conflicts going on and tries to be focused and rational with the task at hand.

“It’s always difficult to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And wherever you run into it, prejudice always obscures the truth. I don’t really know what the truth is. I don’t suppose anybody will ever really know. Nine of us now seem to feel that the defendant is innocent, but we’re just gambling on probabilities – we may be wrong. We may be trying to let a guilty man go free, I don’t know. Nobody really can. But we have a reasonable doubt, and that’s something that’s very valuable in our system. No jury can declare a man guilty unless it’s SURE.”

After creating credible reasonable doubt in the testimony of the key eye witnesses, he has convinced most of them and there are 11 votes for not guilty with only stubborn Juror #3 sticking to his verdict of guilty.

Juror #3: I don’t care whether I’m alone or not! It’s my right.
Juror #8: It’s your right.
Juror #3: Well, what do you want? I say he’s guilty.
Juror #8: We want to hear your arguments.
Juror #3: I gave you my arguments!
Juror #8: We’re not convinced. We want to hear them again. We have as much time as it takes.

In an emotional end, Juror #3 tries to explain his reasons but he is losing conviction in his words and eventually breaks down as he realises in his emotional state he is ripping up the photo of him and his son. He changes his vote to not guilty and they all leave. Juror #8 does not gloat in his victory and empathises with #3’s situation. The others leave #3 there, but #8 helps him put on his jacket.

Juror #8 is a character full of virtue. He stands up for what he believes and does not bend in the face of considerable peer pressure. He does not rise to the bait and the criticisms, but displays reason and objectivity. He is not claim he knows the boy is not guilty, just that he has doubts and wants to talk them through. He is willing to listen to the arguments both for and against. He not only makes my top 10, but appears quite highly on it as it is a character that is important to me. A character I and others hope to aspire to be and emulate. We are all human and show prejudice from time to time, but Juror #8 helps reminds us of how we should be.

<<< No.5 – Ellen Ripley —————————————- No.3 – Maximus >>>

Inspirado por el deseo del rey Alfonso XIII de construir un hotel de lujo que estuviera a la altura del Ritz de París, el Hotel Ritz de Madrid, inaugurado en 1910, comparte con sus homónimos de París y Londres la reputación de ser uno de los hoteles más majestuosos de Europa. El hotel se diseñó y construyó bajo la supervisión personal del legendario hotelero Cesar Ritz, de quien adoptó el nombre.El Ritz ha desempeñado un papel esencial en la vida de Madrid durante el último siglo. Aún hoy, el hotel persiste como un punto de atracción clave para muchos visitantes de esta capital europea.

A principios del siglo pasado, el rey Alfonso XIII volvía de sus viajes por Europa con el recuerdo de los palacios que había visitado impreso en la memoria. Madrid era una ciudad de intensa vitalidad, con edificios soberbios y hermosos jardines. Sin embargo, de un modo u otro le faltaba algo. El Rey fue el primero en ser consciente de cuánto ganaría la ciudad si contara con un gran hotel de lujo de la misma categoría del Ritz de París o Londres.

Se puso manos a la obra y no perdió tiempo en poner estas ideas en práctica. Madrid debía ofrecer a sus visitantes algo realmente extraordinario: un hotel que pudiera satisfacer el gusto más refinado de un nuevo tipo de viajero, que sólo por aquel entonces empezaba a conocerse como “turista”.

El sueño del monarca comenzó a hacerse realidad. La edificación del Ritz -grandioso, luminoso y confortable- había comenzado con el respaldo de la Compañía de Desarrollo Ritz. Charles Mewes, de París, y Luis de Landecho, de Madrid, fueron los arquitectos responsables. En poco tiempo, las paredes del futuro hotel sobrepasaban ya las magnolias, los cedros y las acacias del Prado.

Lo último en comodidad y lujo en aquella época era contar con cuatro o cinco cuartos de baño en cada planta del hotel. Con instalaciones como éstas, el Ritz se convirtió de inmediato en uno de los hoteles más lujosos del mundo. Había un teléfono por piso junto al ascensor, el cual también estaba considerado como un ejemplo sublime del lujo moderno.

Actualmente, el Hotel Ritz mantiene estas tradiciones, aunque los baños y teléfonos son estándar en todas las habitaciones, las cuales cuentan además con conexiones Wireless de alta velocidad a Internet.

A su vez el  Restaurante Goya es cita obligada para los paladares más exigentes, el té de media tarde en el Lobby Bar, un almuerzo o cena en La Terraza disfrutando de los increíbles jardines unido a un discreto pero atento servicio, hacen de los Restaurantes y Bar del Ritz los lugares más exclusivos de Madrid. 

Para terminar, destacar la fabulosa ubicación del Hotel,  un auténtico lujo por si misma. El Hotel Ritz está situado entre el Parque del Retiro, el Teatro de la Zarzuela y los tres museos más importantes de Madrid: el Prado, el Thyssen Bornemisza y el Centro de Arte Moderno Reina Sofía.

El hotel se encuentra situado en pleno centro financiero de la capital, a escasos metros de la Bolsa de Madrid, y a 5 minutos a pie del casco histórico.

Sin lugar a duda, el deseo del rey Alfonso XIII de crear un hotel majestuoso se vió cumplido.

Durante casi cien años, el Hotel Ritz Madrid ha dado la bienvenida a las personalidades más representativas de todos los ámbitos: cultura, arte, política, ciencia, moda… El Libro de Oro del Hotel se ha convertido en testigo y testimonio importante de ello.

Esta es una pequeña muestra de algunos de los clientes ilustres del pasado y del presente que han firmado en nuestro Libro de Oro: Rey Alfonso XIII y la Reina Victoria Eugenia ,El Emperador Haile Selassie de Etiopía ,El Rey Jaled de Arabia Saudí , La Reina Sonia de Noruega , El Príncipe de Gales y la Princesa Diana , El Príncipe Raniero y la Princesa Gracia de Mónaco , El Príncipe Naruhito de Japón , El Rey Mohammed VI , El Maharaja de Kapurthala , El Príncipe Ernst August de Hannover , Margaret Thatcher , Fidel Castro , Mijail Gorbachov , Eva Peron , President Jaques Chirac , Kofi Annan , Vladimir Putin , Matta Hari , Romano Prodi , Yaser Arafat , Helmut Kohl , Tony Blair , President Bill Clinton , Nelson Mandela, Herbert von Karajan, Sir George Solti , Cher, Placido Domingo, Marc Anthony , Ana Belen , Madonna , Julio Iglesias , Frank Sinatra, Sting , Arthur Rubinstein , Jennifer Lopez , Elton John , Tina Turner , Brian Ferry , Lorin Maazel , Paul McCartney, Salvador Dali , Alberto Maravia , Fernando Botero, Catherine Deneuve , Sofia Loren , Michael Caine , Pierce Brosnan , Mel Gibson , George Clooney , Milos Forman , Salma Hayek , Nicole Kidman , Ridley Scott , Brad Pitt , Jerry Lewis , Tom Cruise , Monica Bellucci , Dennis Quaid , Sylvester Stallone , Jeremy Irons , Penelope Cruz , Morgan Freeman , Will Smith , Emma Thompson , Harrison Ford , Mel Brooks, Laurence Olivier ,Lesley Howard , Richard Burton , Ava Gardner , Woody Allen , Richard Gere , Roger Moore , Melanie Griffith , Zsa Zsa Gabor ,  Antonio Banderas , Julia Roberts , Henry Fonda , Ben Stiller , Jennifer Connelly , James Stewart , Holly Hunter , Dustin Hoffman , Michelle Pfeiffer , Jodie Foster , Burt Lancaster ,Anthony Hopkins , Marcello Mastroianni , Orson Welles, Alexander Fleming , Christina Onassis , Ivan Trump, David Delfin , Dolce & Gabana , Salvatore Ferraga , Manolo Blanhik , John Galiano.

Más información: http://www.ritz.es/web/orit_es/hotel_ritz_madrid.jsp

Meteor is a 1979 disaster film in which scientists detect an asteroid on a collision course with Earth and struggle with international, cold war politics in their efforts to prevent disaster. The movie starred Sean Connery and Natalie Wood. It was directed by Ronald Neame and with a screenplay by Edmund H. North and Stanley Mann, “inspired” by an MIT report Project Icarus. The movie co-starred Karl Malden, Brian Keith, Martin Landau, Trevor Howard, Henry Fonda, Johnny Yune, and Katherine DeHetre.

Tagline: There’s No Place On Earth To Hide!

• Many elements of the movie’s plot were used in the 1998 films Armageddon and Deep Impact.

Buy this Title on DVD

• A 2009 film with the same title and a similar plot, Meteor (TV miniseries), was broadcast by NBC as a 4-hour, 2-part miniseries.

Now that I have satellite TV, I get TCM or Turner Movie Classics. I have not watched a great deal but what I have watched has featured a unique presentation of movies in which Hollywood Celebrities pick a series of their favorite movies to show and discuss with the host of the series.

Today I thought more about this and said to myself, “Jim, what if you were to host a movie night and show your favorite movies? Which five movies would you pick?”

Here they are in order of showing:

1. Twelve O’Clock High. Made in 1949, it features Gregory Peck as a hardnosed American bomber wing commander during the early days of what became known as “precision daylight bombing.’  A taut film that reveals the stress of war on the men who flew over Germany at 30,000 feet, it won two academy awards for sound and best supporting actor.
2. Twelve Angry Men. Made in 1957, it features an all-star cast of Karl Malden, Lee J Kobb, EG Marshall, Jack Klugman, Jack Warden, and Henry Fonda. Set in the jury room in a major American city, this film is a tense and emotional look at the dynamics of determining the guilt or innocence of a person on trial for murder.
3. Father Goose. Made in 1964, it is a classic comedy set against the death and danger of war in the south Pacific. Featuring Cary Grant and Leslie Caron, it is a priceless comedy of a grumpy English coast watcher (Grant) and a French school marm (Caron) and her charges. It won 2 Oscars for best writing, story, and screenplay.
4. Bullitt. Made in 1968 with Steve McQueen this film is known for its dramatic high-speed chase without soundtrack between Bullitt (McQueen) a hardnosed San Francisco detective and two mob hit men. It won an Oscar for best film editing.
5. Chariots of Fire. Made in 1981 this inspirational movie is about Eric Liddell and Harold Abrams, two legendary UK runners of the 1920’s. Though it takes some historical liberties, it is a deep and meaningful study in contrast between the views and attitudes of two different men of two different faiths. It won four Academy Awards for best picture, original score, best costume design, and best writing, screenplay written directly for the screen.

If you were to host a movie week, what five films would you have me watch with you?

Claudia Cardinale, "Once Upon a Time in the West"

 I’m not going to add much to the encyclopaedia’s worth of stuff written about this, surely the greatest Western ever made.  The audacity of killing off Woody Strode and Jack Elam in the first scene; those locomotives, screaming and screeching their way through virgin landscape; the casting-against-type of Henry Fonda, Hollywood’s decentest man, as a psychopath; that unforgettable, instantly recognisable Ennio Morricone score; and, most of all, that final, glorious  gunfight, Fonda’s eyes flickering momentarily right and left to judge the best angle of the sun to gain an advantage against the stony-faced Charles Bronson.

I first saw this in 1968 in the George cinema in Barrhead.  You have no idea what Claudia Cardinale’s mascara and cleavage did for my bedtime fantasies - I must have rescued her from a whole trainload of  bad guys, and then didn’t know what to do with her afterwards  - or how much the smirking, spitting Fonda frightened the shite out of me.  Seeing it again on a big, big screen, beautifully restored, is one of life’s infinite pleasures.

Oh, Henry Fonda!  Oh, Charles Bronson!  Oh, oh, oh, Claudia Cardinale!