Cinema Goulash

STRAY DOG (1945)

2009-01-24T16:31:00.003-05:00

Nora inu (aka Stray Dog)
Directed by Akira Kurosawa
Grade: B+

I believe there’s a point in every filmmaker at which the restrained, cautionary artist within him is sent packing, banished at the eleventh hour, leaving said filmmaker with a sudden clarity and vigor rivaled only by sex – or a great french toast platter. Suddenly, said filmmaker finds he can breathe – fully – and on his own. It’s a heavy release, with all of the preconceived laws of the craft, notions of his duty to the art, or his worries of the expectations of others are cast out, leaving the filmmaker with the one thing that absolutely defines his style and shapes his vision: the language.

Nora inu is one of the earlier works of Akira Kurosawa, and one that bridges an acclaimed master of cinema with that of a beginning auteur. There’s so much in this work that is reserved and controlled, perhaps for fear of becoming something too much too quickly, and you can almost sense an emerging artist painting by numbers who desires nothing more than to smash his palette into the canvas, just to see what takes shape. This is a different Kurosawa – a young and clinical filmmaker – astute, but still unrefined. And, when you watch a film like Nora inu, you can’t help but feel as if Kurosawa is standing on the edge of something big.

Nora inu is a well-acted, straight-laced crime drama that follows the rules of the road, albeit in a rather dry and lackluster manner. The story lunges from the gate, not wasting any time revealing the reason as to why we are here: A wet-behind-the-ears police detective has just had his gun lifted by a pickpocket on a crowded bus, and now he must hunt down the thief before the weapon is used in any kind of crime. Kurosawa does play around with composition and pacing, though cautiously, and is helped along by an equally youthful and eager Toshiro Mifune. Yet, the film is steady and plays out its clues and benchmarks with full disclosure, like slowly flipping through a deck of playing cards – one after the next.

Then, something thrilling happens as we enter into the third act of the film. It’s almost as if something in Kurosawa gives way and a completely new filmmaker emerges. One minute the film is decidedly procedural – the next minute we’re watching twenty minutes of cinema that is uncharacteristically stylistic – one might say Hitchcockian, even. The shot design now carries an obvious sense of purpose, and Kurosawa’s rhythm follows a sharp cadence, as if his pulse has quickened. We catch an early glimpse at the Kurosawa to come – a director who will layer his action with daring camera movement, flesh out his look with stunning production value, and place emphasis on his actors through bold facial expressions and unhindered performances. Ultimately, the last twenty minutes of Nora inu are quite unlike the ninety minutes that precede it.

Don’t get me wrong – it’s not that the first two-thirds of the film are weak, not by any stretch. However, Stray Dog could have been a film from any given director, but it’s the last third of the film that are recognizably Kurosawa, signature Kurosawa, the filmmaker we know from his post Rashomon (1950) works. He sneaks himself in towards the end of the picture, almost as if saying, “Alright, I’ve played by the rules for the majority of the film. Now we’re going to wrap things up my way,” rightly offering up a whirlwind climax upon which the rest of the film has been gradually building. The shift in style caps the film wonderfully, and to see it unfold is like discovering Kurosawa for the first time all over again.

Japanese cuisine is on the menu today and Cinema Goulash is plating two different options: The first is a recommendation by the lovely Goulash Wife, whose guilty pleasure comes in the form of some sushi at Moritomo here in Concord. This local Japanese restaurant is usually the eatery of choice for my wife’s occasional girls-only lunch with friends. I’ve never had a lot of sushi, although some recent Food Network programs featuring sushi and the fixings have piqued my curiosity, so I’ll have to give it a try and report back. Moritomo Japanese Restaurant is located at 32 Fort Eddy Road in Concord, NH. In addition, after taking a gander at a variety of Japanese recipes on the web, I came across this scrumptious-looking dish: Baked Onion Chicken Thighs with Umeboshi and Shiso. You’ll find the recipe here.

Another toot of the horn...

2009-01-13T16:45:00.000-05:00

Here’s a buffet-sized thank you for the shout-out from the folks at Roundtable Pictures! Lars Trodson and the gang have posted a nice blurb about Cinema Goulash on their site (www.roundtablepictures.com).

Roundtable has been busy with film commentary and filmmaking of their own, and their site includes links to their short films “The Listeners” and “A Bootful of Fish.” Always enjoyable to see this kind of independent filmmaking happening in our own backyard. I encourage you to stop by to see what they’ve got cooking over on the seacoast.

Cinema Goulash sampled on NH.com

2009-01-12T16:48:00.000-05:00

A little publicity is always great, and today props go to Morgen Thiboult over at NH.com for giving Cinema Goulash a shout-out today.

Always a top-notch site to find all things New Hampshire, Cinema Goulash will soon have a link off of the New Hampshire Bloggers page – where we’ll certainly be in good company. But what’s more, Morgen posted a nice write-up about this blog, which was spotlighted on their main page. Morgen said she’d also have to try our offering of Queenie’s Smoked Gouda Mac & Cheese with Baby Peas (from our review of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button). Maybe she’ll tell us what she thought of it (the food and the film…)

Anyway, thanks to Morgen for the post and support!

Silent film THE CROWD (1928) to screen Jan. 19

2009-01-07T16:51:00.000-05:00

The Crowd (1928), regarded as one of finest Hollywood films of the silent era, will be screened with live music on Monday, Jan. 19 at 7 p.m. at the Palace Theatre in Manchester, NH.

The Crowd, directed by King Vidor, chronicles the fortunes of young couple struggling to survive in 1920s New York. Combining humor and melodrama, The Crowd centers on a tragic turn of events that strains the couple’s relationship to the breaking point, forcing them to fight to keep their ever-diminishing dreams alive in a soulless urban society. One screening only on Monday, Jan. 19 at 7 p.m. at the Palace Theatre, 80 Hanover St. in Manchester.

The Crowd is part of the Palace Theatre’s first-ever “Silent Film Blockbusters” series, which aims to show best quality prints of silent classics on the big screen with live music. See for yourself the films that made audiences first fall in love with the movies! Palace screening includes live music by local musician and composer Jeff Rapsis. General admission, $7 per person; proceeds to benefit the Palace Theatre. For tickets and more info on The Crowd and other films in the series, visit www.palacetheatre.org or call the Palace box office at 603-668-5588.

Classic movies deserve some classic eats, and if you’re in the Manchester area, it doesn’t get anymore classic than the famous Red Arrow Diner on Lowell Street. It’s been a staple for local diners, diner enthusiasts, and visiting politicians alike since 1922. From their famous breakfast items (served all day) to their traditional Blue Plate Specials (served on a blue plate, no less). Take yourself back in time by grabbing a bite before seeing this silent film classic. You can find more information online at www.redarrowdiner.com.

SEPTEMBER (1987)

2009-01-03T16:56:00.001-05:00

September
Directed by Woody Allen
Grade: B

September is a particularly underrated film, in my opinion. While not as robust and delicious as Hannah and Her Sisters, neither is it nearly as sour or pretentious as some have made it out to be, comparing its tone to that of Allen's 1978 downer (although still a great film) Interiors. Six characters are gathered for the weekend at a summer home in Vermont, all of whom, in Woody Allen fashion, are romantically connected to each other in some way and, as usual, have a hard time keeping their feelings (and hands) to themselves. Infidelities pile upon insecurities, and by the time the weekend is up, relationships change and lives take on new directions.

It is a simple and short film (82 minutes) and reads more like a stage play than traditional cinema. There are still trademark scenes of extended dialogue, many times covered in one continuous shot, that allow the actors to perform and the camera to follow without any editing to manipulate the story. Of course, philosophy and philandering are common bedfellows in almost any Allen film, and September is not without its cerebral side, with writer and artist-types pondering their lives through a veil of self-important intellectualism. It’s smart people with romantic issues. But, isn’t that just what makes a Woody Allen film great? You can also always count on great music, and the only musical score in the film, aside from the opening and closing credits, comes from the jazz records that are spun or the piano that is played while at the house.

I was surprised that I hadn’t seen this film already, and found myself taken in by it immediately. The only drawback to the film is that it isn’t long enough, which forces the story to move along – quickly – and I can understand why some viewers have felt like it was a train wreck of love affairs and emotional disasters as the script, like the characters in the house, are confined to such small quarters. However, this is the Woody Allen I love, and I admire any film that can be so unconventionally clean and free from rapid-fire scissors and still hold interest. September is about people, and sometimes you just need to sit, shut-up, and listen to people – watch them, even – without being dragged through a film by the collar like someone cramming the Smithsonian in a day. It’s a fine, little gem.

The month of September holds special meaning for my wife and I, as it does a most Americans. I’m partial to fall, and as a New Englander, September ushers in a rich time of year signifying change – not only in the foliage around us, but in ourselves, as well. For some reason, I’m particularly inspired by autumn. However, September also brings my wife and I back to the time when we were living in Los Angeles, the memory of the worst terrorist attack on American soil, and our subsequent escape, albeit temporary, from the fallout of that event.

I was working on the Universal Studios lot on September 11, 2001, and it wasn’t long after the attacks that the movie studios in Los Angeles were placed on heightened alert as there had been some sort of intelligence that had come through about the possible bombings of one or more studios. From then on, every morning as I drove through the gates off of Lankershim Boulevard, my car was inspected by guards and bomb-sniffing dogs before I could continue onto the lot. It was indeed a scary time – and a strange feeling has long lingered as I remember waking to my ringing phone that fateful Tuesday morning – and the attacks were already over. One of the World Trade Center buildings had already collapsed. Many had died and the West Coast was just waking up.

Along with the additional security throughout Southern California came a frightening rumor that there would be an impending attack on Los Angeles on September 22, symbolically eleven days after the first attacks. My wife and I, at this time just two years before we would marry, decided that it was time to get away from it all, if only for a day. And, on that Saturday, September 22, 2001, at her suggestion, we drove north to the Santa Ynez Valley and spent the day doing what my wife simply loves to do – visit wineries – and we prayed that we would not find downtown Los Angeles in ruins upon our return.

We visited four different wineries that day, including our favorite, Cottonwood Canyon. On a side note, we call September 22 our “Wine Country Day”, and regularly ship a couple of their crisp, white wines to our home for what has become a wonderful tradition. Our favorite Cottonwood varietal is their Estate Chardonnay (you can read my post about it here, paired with Peter Greenaway’s film The Belly of an Architect.) However, one of the other wineries we stopped at that day was Curtis Winery, which is about a quarter-mile down the road from the famous Firestone Vineyard. Curtis is where I found my second favorite wine (although my first-place red), their 1999 Heritage Cuvée, a robust red with cherry and plum aromas, but what makes this wine a favorite is the broad smoky-peppery finish. That’s a trait that I now routinely look for in red wine, as it always takes me back to that day. Oh, what a smell or a taste can do for a memory.

Like the film of the same name, September has something unique in it that speaks in hushed tones and asks you to take a moment to reflect – on a good many things. An excellent wine can certainly do that as well.

Find more info about Curtis Winery on their website at www.curtiswinery.com.

THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL (2008)

2009-01-02T16:05:00.000-05:00

The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008)
Directed by Scott Derrickson
Grade: C-

Slick visuals and an ultra-kinetic screenplay is the real motive behind the 2008 remake of the 50’s classic, The Day the Earth Stood Still. It’s a half-decent/half-dimwitted do-over that wastes no time getting started (we get literally two minutes and thirty seconds of development of our main character, Helen, before we are vehemently thrust into the action) and director Scott Derrickson gives his remake a larger-than-life, truly cinematic, ready-for-IMAX feel. Unfortunately, like many quick-launching movies before it (see Jumper), Derrickson’s film comes out of the gate looking like a first-rate finisher, yet takes a wincing face-plant as it attempts to clear the last couple of hurdles. It’s style over substance, but who’s surprised? It’s enough to make anyone close their eyes and yell “Klaatu Barada Nikto” at the screen (the famous phrase, by the way, is never spoken in the new film – seems the new Klaatu can control his entire arsenal by way of Jedi Mind Trick.)

Keanu Reeves is again cast perfectly in another role that asks him to be as still as a house plant. In the original film, Klaatu was a handsome, charismatic – and most importantly, diplomatic – gentleman that any girl would want to bring home to mother. Here, the filmmakers are convinced that alien life forms are unemotional, drab beings that rarely blink and speak in low, monotone, and threatening utterances. Michael Rennie: 1, Keanu Reeves: 0.

Spoiler alert: The demise of the Earth even takes a biblical turn as the aliens choose to rid the world of the human race with microbot locusts, but not before using their spacecraft pods as makeshift arks to store away samples of all other animal species, with the plan of repopulating the Earth with God’s creatures after the planet has been cleansed of people. This further clarification of the rules of engagement does benefit the new version of the film, if only slightly, and leaves the classic movie, as great as it is, looking almost too simplified. But, complexity does not necessarily make a great film, and for all that the new version has going over the classic, it pales in comparison by what it lacks. The 1951 film had charm and held dear its underlying message that humans were on track to destroy themselves and their planet, and if they could not change their ways, other worlds should step in to rectify the situation. In the 2008 film, that message is thinly rolled out like a pie crust, but is never really baked – resurfacing occasionally like a pest to remind us of what the film hopes to lay at stake. The result is that, despite all the military action taken, there is really never any true concern or remorse by Earth’s people that they are about to be eradicated by no fault but their own. Only Secretary Regina Jackson (Kathy Bates – who is still looking fab, by the way!) shows the smallest hint of regret, but there was more apocalyptic, woe-is-me sorrow and fear emoted in films like Deep Impact (1998) or even, dare I say, Independence Day (1996) than in this actioner. There are quick shots of people around the world rioting in the streets, etc., but that hardly constitutes as a cause for change.

Added characters and storylines can’t properly expand upon what was already done correctly in the original film, and Derrickson’s worst mistake is putting the responsibility of the “extermination” in the hands of Klaatu, since the character was initially intended to be a messenger with a warning. But warnings don’t lend themselves to cataclysmic events created through computer graphics. Warnings rarely justify ripping apart football stadiums or disintegrating people into clouds of extra-terrestrial insects. In Derrickson’s vision of the film, he chooses to make Klaatu the executioner rather than the diplomat. He is to finish what has already been decided, and sees the good in humans only at the last minute. Oddly, the “good” is seen through a rather feeble resolve in the relationship between Helen (Jennifer Connolly) and her stepson Jacob (Jaden Smith). So, other worlds have long decided to wipe out the planet Earth, but one alien sees change in a race of people via some clever words by a mathematician (John Cleese) and a fifteen-second hug by a woman and child he hardly knows? This is the catalyst that forces him to be the hero and stop what has been started? It’s a far different play on the character than Michael Rennie’s ambassador who leaves the planet virtually unharmed and having given its leaders a firm scolding. I suppose you could argue that the same scolding has happened here, although in a much more uncharacteristically violent fashion. However, what makes today’s audience different than that of 1951 is that they’ve paid their admission with the expectation of collateral damage. They’ve come for the sci-fi eye candy of destruction. They’ve come for the endgame rather than the significance of the meaning, and filmmakers now happily oblige by squeezing destruction into the story, changing the overall gist of characters and material. Blech.

Honestly, 2008’s The Day the Earth Stood Still is more about bully bettering bully than it is about a quest for peace. The 1951 film was fed by the threatening environment of the Cold War, and here, Derrickson has also fed thinly veiled current events into his remake, particularly the notion that the United States is just one big browbeater – but there’s always someone who’s bigger, isn’t there? Interestingly enough, while there are alien pods set all over the world, the damage is done on American soil. So, is the warning in Derrickson’s film really one for the world, or just the U.S.?

The comparisons between the original film and its 2008 counterpart are cause for some interesting discussion, but it doesn’t change the fact that 1951’s The Day the Earth Stood Still is by far the better film of the two. Like Spielberg’s icky retooling of War of the Worlds (2005), these remakes are being paraded around, masquerading as classics re-introduced to an X-Box generation when the classics are already there, just waiting to be rediscovered.

Besides, without a Theremin, it just isn’t the same.

Forget the meat and hold the veggies. This version of The Day the Earth Stood Still is certainly no main course or even an appetizer - it’s a sickly sweet dessert that deserves as much alcohol as we can find, just to put us out of our misery. So, in an effort to put the brakes on something that just takes itself way too seriously, today we are serving up Klaatu’s Rum Barada Nikto Cake:

Ingredients -
8 tb butter; softened
1/2 cup super fine sugar, plus 1 tablespoon
2 eggs; beaten
1 cup flour*
1 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. vanilla extract
3 tbsp. rum
2 tbsp. apricot jam; strained
Candied cherries
Candied angelica; cut into leaves

Vanilla Filling
4 tbsp. butter
1/4 cup super fine sugar
2 tbsp. rum
1 egg yolk
1/2 cup almonds or Cadju nuts**
2 tbsp. heavy cream
1 piece (large) candied ginger; finely chopped

Instructions -
*sift 3 times with baking powder
** ground and mixed with a few drops of almond extract
Beat the butter and 1/2 cup of sugar together to a pale cream. Beat in first the beaten eggs, then the sifted flour, baking powder and vanilla extract. Put the mixture into a buttered and floured tube cake pan and bake in a preheated 350 deg. F oven for about 30 minutes, or until the cake is pale golden brown on top and begins to ease away from the sides of the pan. Cool the cake for 10 minutes in the pan, then turn it onto a wire rack placed over foil to cool completely. With a small-pronged fork, prick the cake all over on the underside, and here and there on the top and sides. Dissolve the remaining 1 tablespoon of sugar in 2 tablespoons of water and add 2 tablespoons or the rum. Spoon this mixture over the surface of the cake so that it runs into the pricked holes. Place the cake on a serving dish. In a small saucepan, thoroughly mix the apricot jam and the remaining rum. Set the mixture over very low heat and stir very gently until it is hot and clear. Use a clean, dry pastry brush to coat the whole of the outside crust of the cake–including that of the center cavity–with the apricot mixture. The cake should now have a clear jellied appearance. Chill the cake thoroughly in the refrigerator.

To make the filling, beat the butter until soft. Add the sugar, and cream the mixture together for a few minutes until light and fluffy, then, if using, beat in the rum by degrees. Beat all together until the mixture is pale in color and thick. Add the egg yolk, mix well, then add the ground nuts and cream and beat again for a few minutes. If the chopped ginger is used, it should be added now. Chill the mixture in the refrigerator, then pile it up in the hollow center of the cake, round the top nicely. Fill a pastry bag with any remaining mixture and with a large No. 5 closed star tube, pipe a neat decoration on top of the cake around the edge of the center filling. Decorate the bottom edge of the cake in the same manner. Garnish the cake with cherries and angelica leaves, and arrange a cluster of cherries and angelica leaves on top of the center filling. Refrigerate until required, and serve Ice-cold.

NOTE: Cadju nut is another name for cashew nut.

If made some time before it is to be used, the barada should be covered over with parchment paper while it is chilling in the refrigerator. Makes one 8-inch tube cake.

Recipe found at www.make-cake.com.

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON (2008)

2008-12-31T17:15:00.000-05:00

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Directed by David Fincher
Grade: B-

Eric Roth, the screenwriter of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, won an Oscar for his screen adaptation of Winston Groom’s Forrest Gump, and has now revisited his Oscar-winning game plan by penning a seemingly ingenious script under sneaky pretenses. Here, fifteen years later, Roth (who I’ve always thought to be a very talented and prolific screenwriter) looks to recapture the “Gump” buzz by swapping out handicaps, love interests, and epic journeys through the decades without notice. Unfortunately, even when combined with David Fincher’s sharp direction and vision, the end result is a rather enjoyable, albeit a somewhat overly long and predictable film that trips over its own many uncanny resemblances.

The most damning flaw in the film, however, is Cate Blanchett, cast in a role that comes off as far too self-centered and uncaring; not the type of thing you want in a leading lady and supposed love interest (not to mention that there is utterly no chemistry between Blanchett and Pitt - at least not enough for us to really give a crap about them.) The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is peppered with some genuinely heartwarming devices that fit snugly into the overall scheme of things, but those are countered by a fistful of moments that rise to the occasion, only to be punctuated by some truly mouth-gagging spoon-feeding from Fincher. Worth a single viewing, but don’t be led to believe you’re seeing anything fresh and new. Disappointingly straddles a fine line between B- and C+. The first half of the film is the strongest and it overall falls short in too many places for me to lift it up any higher in good conscience. And while its technical achievements take filmmaking to a completely new level (more on performance capture some other time), breathtaking and innovative visual effects cannot alone shoulder the weight of an entire film where story holes persist and chemistry lags too far behind. It did, however, provide the wife and I with an enjoyable (and rare) post-Christmas, sans Goulash tot movie night out.

In The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, what was old is new again (or vice versa), and in the Cinema Goulash recipe box we’ve gone digging for something with a little of both. Cheese gets better with age, and my favorite is Smoked Gouda. Now for the new – hmm. Got it! Today the Goulash is going to offer up what we call Queenie’s Smoked Gouda Mac and Cheese with Baby Peas:

1 (16 ounce) package seashell pasta
1 10-ounce package of frozen baby peas (2 cups)
2 1/2 tbsp. butter
2 tbsp. all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups milk
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. ground white pepper
8 ounces smoked Gouda cheese, shredded
1/2 teaspoon Garlic salt

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Lightly grease a 10 inch casserole dish. Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook for 8 to 10 minutes or until al dente; drain. Melt butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir in the flour and cook until a roux forms. Stir in the peas, milk, salt, garlic salt, and pepper; cook, stirring constantly, until sauce is smooth and thick and coats the back of a spoon. Remove from heat and stir in cheese. Combine cooked pasta and cheese sauce; transfer to prepared dish. Bake in preheated oven for 15 minutes, or until heated through.

SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE (2008)

2008-12-30T17:23:00.000-05:00

Slumdog Millionaire
Directed by Danny Boyle
Grade: A-

One of the great joys of a film like Slumdog Millionaire is its ability to charm you into a story while never relying on gimmicks and trickery. Not without its honest suspense and guessing games, Danny Boyle’s (Trainspotting) latest entry kicks the magic box of contrived tomato surprise endings, misdirection and other slight of hand to the curb in exchange for sincerity, structure and a snowballing build of momentum that culminates into a naturally satisfying crowd-pleaser.

There could be some lengthy discussion as to whether a film like this should have been directed by an Indian director rather than an English director like Boyle (although a quick scan of the credits will show a number of locals assisting Boyle on location.) Still, the film delves into some deeply-rooted cultural themes and representations of a poverty-stricken, indigenous people. The question remains: is a film more authentic if a member of that culture is at the helm? Can Spielberg direct an authentic film about African-Americans (The Color Purple)? You may find yourself, as I did, particularly pondering the director-cultural connection as you watch the end credit sequence of the film, a rousing spectacle of a curtain call that pays homage to India’s Bollywood. As energizing a sequence as it is, does Boyle offer authenticity or is it outsider interpretation? Is it done whole-heartedly or tongue-in-cheek? I’m sure the intentions follow the former, and yet, I wonder how that sequence – or the entire film, for that matter – might have differed had it been crafted by an Indian director? What’s more (shifting gears), does a sequence like this detract from the rest of the film by unveiling to the audience that it was, indeed, only a performance by actors for our enjoyment? Does the sequence ultimately spoil our investment of suspension of disbelief over the last two hours? Food for thought – and I digress. Regardless, Slumdog Millionaire is a refreshing film and should be at the top of your list of must-see films this season.

I’ll admit that I really haven’t had a lot of Indian food in my day, although there is a nice, little Indian restaurant huddled along Pleasant Street here in Concord that I have yet to try (and I’ll make a point to do so soon!) But, in thinking about a food pairing for this film, I figured that in my comments about films that have directors fusing their culture with that of the subject they are depicting – and in this case and Indian film by a British director – it would only be appropriate that we find an Indian recipe that fuses that English twist, as well. However, while doing some digging online, instead of a recipe, I came across a book by Vicky Bhogal called, A Year of Cooking Like Mummyji: Real British Asian Cooking for All Seasons. It is about how one modern Indian girl, living in Britain, has adapted the sometimes complex cooking style of her homeland and fit it into the simplicity of a British meal. Seems like interesting reading (and eating). The book can be found here on Amazon. And when I do get to that restaurant here in town, I’ll be sure to let you know.

Local Movie Notes: Sunday Silent Film Classics

2008-08-08T17:28:00.000-04:00

The Wilton Town Hall Theatre (Wilton, NH) presents its Sunday Silent Film Classics series - free screenings the last Sunday of each month. See the best of silent cinema the way it was meant to be seen: in a theater, with a crowd, on the big screen, and with live musical accompaniment (by New Hampshire’s own Jeff Rapsis).

Coming up on August 31, 2008: The Freshman (1925) with Harold Lloyd. Sponsored by HippoPress, Manchester Express, and Looser than Loose Vintage Entertainment.

Sounds like fun! Happy to see a silent cinema program like this in the Granite State.

The Val Kilmer Double Filmer

2008-08-02T17:32:00.000-04:00

Here at the Goulash, we’re fans of Val Kilmer. From the svelte, closet gay jet fighter pilot in Top Gun (1986) to the not-so-svelte convicted killer in Felon (2008) and everything in between, Kilmer is becoming a bit of a recently re-discovered cinematic staple for me. Val Kilmer is kinda like ketchup. He’s reliable and no matter what you put him on, he just tends to make things taste a little better. Heat (1995) was a great film. Guess what? It’s got Val Kilmer. That’s a bonus. Red Planet (2000), not so good. But look! There’s Val Kilmer! Redemption! So, imagine my delight when, by no fault of my own, I happened upon two films in the same week that starred Val Kilmer!

Felon
Directed by Ric Roman Waugh
Grade: B-

We all have guilty pleasures. Mine, among many other things, consist of Olivia Newton-John, Knorr cheddar-broccoli stove top rice, and, yes, prison movies. Felon filled my incarceration flick void quite nicely recently, offering up what seems to be a fairly underrated little popcorn muncher complete with enough inner-prison gang insight and guard/inmate tension to satisfy the hunger usually quelled through hours of non-stop Lockup documentaries on MSNBC.

Stephen Dorff is great as the man wronged by the system, a mere tourist walking amongst the native habitués and lifers. Writer/Director Ric Roman Waugh very obviously looks to spend the film’s run time by examining prison culture and the hardening effects on its population (more importantly so, its newcomers) while opting to use a swift scalpel to lop the fat off any kind of set-up – the backstory of Dorff’s crime and conviction packaged nonchalantly with scotch tape under the film’s opening credits.

Felon does, however, successfully establish an absorbing and believable rapport between Dorff and his stone cold, high-ranking cellmate, played solidly by a heavier, grislier Val Kilmer. Kilmer’s presence in the film is both threatening and, dare I say, therapeutic, as his calming nature and streetwise philosophies suggest an uneasy peace that surfaces through his credulous, yet dodgy guise. He’s a friend that Scott does, and doesn’t, want to have – and that dangerous link seems very genuine via the chemistry that exists between Dorff and Kilmer.

Ric Roman Waugh’s development of Lt. Jackson (Harold Perrineau) is particularly absorbing, presenting us with an unsentimental correctional officer whose career in the penitentiary has forged him into the mold of those he guards, and whose home life fronts the façade of the mild-mannered family man. Waugh does such a wonderful job establishing Lt. Jackson’s motives that he sets himself up for the challenge of paying off the character’s comeuppance. Already on track for a gratifying and inevitable pitfall for Jackson, Waugh opts for another, less-satisfying route. What could have been played smart is conventionally diluted.

Nonetheless, once you look beyond the b-movie flaws in Felon, particularly its lackluster bookends, you’ll find a much steadier film with some interesting relationships and a fascinating breakdown of prison society.

Spartan
Directed by David Mamet
Grade: C+

The problem with a movie like David Mamet’s Spartan is that it decidedly assumes that we are either (1) knowledgeable enough in the lexical and environmental background of the character for us to be simply dropped into the full momentum of the story out of the gate, or (2) that there’s just too much backstory and character development to even bother trying to play catch up.

Mamet has always been a smart writer/director, so I feel it’s safe to assume that our drop zone into the film was purely intentional. Don’t really know who Scott (Val Kilmer) is or what he’s about? So what? Doesn’t matter. No one else in the film does either. Don’t know a thing about military ops? So what? Doesn’t matter. Let’s just see what happens to the guy, okay?

If it were anyone else but Mamet, I’d be waxing all poetic about story set-up and the need for early character development. But, he’s been there and done that and if he wants to punt an audience into the middle of the first act without any remorse, then I’ll hedge a bet that he knows damn well what he’s doing — That’s not to say it works.

This approach, along with making Kilmer’s character so emotionally unattachable, forced me to resign in caring about who he was, where he came from, what he was assigned to do, and if he succeeded or failed. I just didn’t care all that much. Scott is a man with emotional distance the size of Arkansas. That’s his baggage. That’s his character. That’s perfectly fine. But if the distance, whether intended or not, creates a lack of connection with the viewer – repels them, even – it all turns into a tree falling in an empty forest.

There is, surprisingly, enough in Spartan for me to recommend a single viewing. It has its suspense and intrigue, and Mamet’s known for exceptionally natural dialogue exchanges – you’ll find more of it here. However, his knowledge of military-speak gets ahead of us at times, particularly in the first few minutes of the film, and it feels more like the writer who regurgitates research and references back into edgy conversation just for the sake of being cool. The film certainly has potential, but is not one of Mamet’s best, sad to say.

Note: Ed O’Neill is always a treat as a heavy. William H. Macy just seems to be along for the ride.

So, what does the Goulash prepare that’s fitting of the Kilmer? Well, we’ve already mentioned Heat and Red Planet and according to IMDb, he raises buffalo in New Mexico, and we all know that he will “be your wingman anytime.” The choice is clear – today we’re serving up Ice Man’s Not-So-Cold Crockpot Buffalo Chicken Wings:

3 pounds chicken wings and legs
1 bottle spicy barbecue sauce
1 1/2 teaspoons red cayenne pepper
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons black pepper
1/2 teaspoon minced garlic
1 teaspoon minced onion
3 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
2 tablespoons jalapeno sauce
1 tablespoon Tabasco sauce
1 tablespoon Cajun spice

In a crock pot (our favorite), add chicken, barbecue sauce and all the spices. Stir and heat on low for 4 hours. Serve wings in a casserole dish on Cajun rice.

Got a Kilmer favorite? Let us know.

THE ISLAND (2005)

2008-07-25T17:41:00.000-04:00

The Island
Directed by Michael Bay
Grade: C-

We ran our new high-definition TV and surround sound system through its inaugural gauntlet with this Michael Bay offering and was pleasantly surprised that (1) the action director has not skimped on the number of times his characters bleat, “Let’s go! C’mon! Go, go, go!” and (2) the film was really not as eye-wateringly foul as some of his earlier work. And yet, it’s still predictably off-the-mark. The Island is a marginally entertaining theft of THX 1138 (1971), The Matrix (1999), Minority Report (2002) and every Michael Bay film already in existence. ScarJo provides the eye candy while Ewan McGregor fights off his accent. It’s a one hundred and thirty-six minute run-and-gun that does little more than give you a good shot of testosterone while making your next door neighbor jealous of your Dolby 5.1. Kudos to the three screenwriters it took to pound out this popcorn puffcake. Far more tolerable than Bay’s Transformers (2007) or that Bruce Willis film that shall go unnamed.

Today, the Goulash is serving up a meal that is not so much a pairing for The Island than it is simply what we chose to chow down while watching it. Of course, one must use caution when eating during the screening of a Michael Bay film for fear of indigestion. This time, however, we are happy to report that our Ruby Tuesday Fresh Garden Bar to go was hearty, thoroughly enjoyable, and kept all schlock-induced acid reflux at bay (no pun intended!) I’m a big fan of the Ruby Tuesday Fresh Garden Bar – always cold, crisp, and well-maintained. The Goulash household has found it to be a frequent favorite for blockbuster nights

Our local Ruby Tuesday is located at 327 Loudon Road in Concord, NH. Contact them at 603-223-2505 or visit them online at www.rubytuesday.com.

'G' MEN (1935)

2008-07-24T17:48:00.000-04:00

‘G’ Men
Directed by William Keighley
Grade: B

Very dated but highly enjoyable early noir, ‘G’ Men puts James Cagney in then unfamiliar good guy territory. As a young man shielded from the gangster life by the man most corrupted by it, Cagney turns to law, only to sidestep his path as the straight and narrow attorney to take up a federal badge after the wrongful death of his government agent pal. Incredibly stiff in places – thanks to all-too convenient microphone placement – some may find it more work to watch, but fans of the genre will find plenty to appreciate, including fast-talking scoundrels, sassy women, and hard-nosed, yet even-tempered lawmen. The film includes an innovative (for its time) yet cheesy prologue that frames ‘G’ Men as an agent training film, though it neglects to bookend it at the conclusion – probably for the best. A must-see, just on principle.

Billy Vasquez over at The 99 Cent Chef blog recently paired up his recipe for a 99 Cent Ribeye with a film noir retrospective which I’m sorry I missed at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood this past April. At first glance, a ninety-nine cent beef anything is enough to make the toughest of gangsters give you the evil eye and a coarse “say, whaddaya tryin’ to push on me?” But it’s red, grisly, and meaty – perfect for a little cops and robbers. Read about it here…

IN THE SHADOW OF THE MOON (2007)

2008-07-23T17:52:00.000-04:00

In the Shadow of the Moon
Directed by David Sington
Grade: B-

As a fan of documentaries about our nation’s space program, I was surprised to find my initial reaction to David Sington’s In the Shadow of the Moon mixed, having felt as if I had seen a rushed, CliffsNotes version of history rather than a more thorough and comprehensive piece of work (see Discovery Channel’s recent mini-series, When We Left Earth.) That’s not to say the film is bad - it isn’t. However, while In the Shadow of the Moon has a generous helping of not-before-seen footage and compelling insight into the more emotionally human side of the space race, which in and of itself made it a must-see for the space enthusiast like me, there was a pacing in the film that seemed to nag Sington into keeping one eye on the clock, resulting in too much information simplified in too little time. In the Shadow of the Moon is more of a primer toward its subject matter, with the 109-minute run time simply not enough to do the story justice. It’s more of a companion piece, in many regards. In this case, coverage of the decade-long race to the moon really deserves the Ken Burns, multi-episode treatment.

Anti-gravity food is on our minds here at the Goulash, and we’ve certainly come a long way from the dehydrated pizza and freeze-dried Neapolitan ice cream found in your local novelty shop. Today, instead of cooking up a tasty dish in our kitchen, Cinema Goulash is serving up this nifty little piece by Kim Severson in The New York Times on how astro-chefs are taking space chow to the final frontier. Read it here…

THE BELLY OF AN ARCHITECT (1987)

2008-07-15T17:56:00.000-04:00

Belly of an Architect
Directed by Peter Greenaway
Grade: B+

Always a Peter Greenaway fan – The Belly of an Architect did not disappoint. A food-rich predecessor to his equally gastric The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover (1989), this entry in Greenaway’s repertoire is literate film-snobbery at its best, teeming with rich imagery, near-poetic dialogue, and complex, underlying (and many times not-so-obvious) themes. I find Chloe Webb a bit of a weak link here as it’s difficult to decide whether her grating, whiny and unpolished line delivery is actually a nicely played trait of a spoiled, immature wife of a reknowned architect or if it’s simply a casting misstep that’s as inconspicuous as a fart in a candle shop. Regardless, Brian Dennehy makes up for any shortcomings in spades. Those familiar with Greenaway are sure to find The Belly of an Architect ripe and delicious. Newcomers may find this (and his other work) difficult chewing and needing an acquired taste, although this is, in fact, one of Greenaway’s more accessible films. All in all, the man really knows how to shoot a dinner scene, doesn’t he?

A lush film deserves a lush wine. One of our favorites is the Cottonwood Canyon 2001 Estate Chardonnay. “Crisp Granny Smith apples, tangerine and pear in the nose. Zesty lime notes come through in the mid-palate followed by spiced pear. Hints of vanilla, pear and spice in the finish,” according to their website. Perhaps. To me, it tastes of beautiful nostalgia and it has been an annual Autumn staple of ours since our visit to the vineyard in Santa Barbara County that same year. Find out more about Cottonwood Canyon at www.cottonwoodcanyon.com.

KUNG FU PANDA (2008)

2008-07-05T17:59:00.000-04:00

Kung Fu Panda
Directed by Mark Osborne and John Stevenson
Grade: B-

I recently took my four year old daughter to see Kung Fu Panda: The IMAX Experience on its opening weekend. It had been a while since I had seen an IMAX film, and I thought that this would be a great opportunity to take the Cinema Goulash Tot’s movie-viewing to the next level. The film itself was smart and giggle-worthy (I’ll get into that in a moment), and, surprisingly, the super-sized screen really didn’t faze my kid one way or the other, and as I walked out of the theater a little light-headed, I found myself rather put off by the large format.

Sure, it’s big. Real big. But, I suppose in this case, I’m of the mind that bigger is not always better. While the size of the screen can make you feel as if you are part of the world inside the film, I wondered if that was the place where audiences really wanted to be. Depending on where you sit in an IMAX theater, I discovered, you actually begin to lose parts of the viewing image, as the screen size effectively begins to take hold of your peripheral vision. You’re in it, alright.

However, I go to the movies to watch the whole film – the entire frame. IMAX is so huge your vision tends to be focused on specific points of action rather than the image as a whole. Personally, I don’t want select areas of the image to be lost simply because it wraps slightly beyond my sightline. In fact, I would hedge a bet that the ones who like IMAX the most are the ones who prefer pan-and-scan video releases rather than those letterboxed in their correct aspect ratio. Because unless you’re sitting in the last row of the theater, that’s essentially what you’re doing when you watch and IMAX film – panning and scanning.

I look at the screen as the window onto the world of the film. I like seeing the edges of the frame and how the image is composed within it. IMAX did nothing for me except make me realize that, while humungous is good for a film about an arctic expedition or underwater exploration, humungous does not necessarily work for the standard Hollywood feature – and now we’re beginning to see more and more of it.

As for Kung Fu Panda, watch for a truly refreshing opening three minutes of superbly hand-drawn 2D animation accompanied by a hilarious read from Jack Black. From there, the film slips into the usual slick and polished 3D animation which we’ve grown very accustomed to seeing. Save for the vibrant coloring and the martial arts action moments, the film really brings nothing new to the table and includes a star-powered cast who, while screen legends in the live-action world, merely phone in their vocal performances and lend their names to an animated project for a box office boost.

Jack Black is the soul and strength behind Kung Fu Panda. Angelina Jolie offers a sultry quality to the film’s Tigress, but it’s a voice-over that really could have been found anywhere. I’m still trying to figure out the point of casting Jackie Chan as Monkey. Chan is never known for his vocal prowess – he is a visual tour de force whenever he appears on-screen, and here offers absolutely nothing except name recognition. Ian McShane, on the other hand, known for his grisly, foul-mouthed Al Swearengen on HBO’s Deadwood, brings an equally gritty and fun performance (minus the F-bombs) to the much-feared Tai Lung.

Ultimately, much of the star power in Kung Fu Panda is gone to waste. It’s not like Tom Hanks in Toy Story (1995) or Mike Myers in Shrek (2001) where those actors treated audiences to brilliant vocal performances and characters with distinct personality. In Kung Fu Panda, it felt as if the stars were cast in their respective roles because the filmmakers thought they simply “sounded” like the characters. There’s nothing in their performances that sends it over the top. Why did these actors sign on to Kung Fu Panda? Maybe it was the paycheck. Perhaps they’re doing it for their kids – and the paycheck. Who knows? But let’s face it; Dustin Hoffman is really only Dustin Hoffman when we, the audience, get to watch Dustin Hoffman. The voice is only half of the actor we’ve come to know. Angelina Jolie is only Angelina Jolie when we are graced by her on-screen sex appeal. An animated tiger just isn’t the same.

When all is said and done, the Cinema Goulash Tot was pretty unimpressed by the film, regardless of its IMAX presentation. There came that point in Kung Fu Panda, about a third of the way through the film, where the cute animals, refined animation, and ultra-colorful backdrops just couldn’t hold the Goulash Tot any longer. She’s a smart girl and knows when she’s being had by a formulaic storyline. And when my little girl becomes more fascinated by the movie’s tie-in marketing at the McDonald’s down the street than the film itself… Well, there you go.

Cinema Goulash is honoring all those who serve noodles by day and dream of being a martial arts warrior by night. Today we’re cooking up Po’s Kung Fu Sesame Noodles with Chicken:

8 oz fresh/dried egg noodles
1 tbsp. sesame oil
4 oz chicken breast, skinned and boned
2 oz each of celery and carrots
4 oz cucumber
2 spring onions
3/4 tbsp sesame paste

Sauce:
1/2 tbsp sesame oil
2 tsp chili oil
2 tbsp Chinese light soy
1 tbsp white vinegar
1/8 - 1/4 tsp chili powder
5 tbsp chicken stock

Cook the noodles in boiling water for 3-5 minutes until just done. Drain and rinse in cold water. Toss them in a bowl with 1 tbsp of sesame oil, cover and refrigerate if cooking in advance. Cut the chicken into strips, simmer 2-4 minutes in a little water until they are white throughout. Drain and allow to cool then shred the meat. Cut the carrots and celery into very small pieces and boil rapidly for 40 secs adding the onions for the last 10 secs. Drain and rinse in cold water, pat dry. Cut the cucumber into fine julienne strips. Save a few of the vegetables for garnish. For the sauce, stir the sesame paste well in a bowl. Slowly stir in the sesame oil, chili oil, soy, chili powder and chicken stock. To serve, place the noodles in a bowl, add the chicken and vegetables. Stir the sauce and pour it on. Toss well. Top with a few vegetables for garnish.

LARS AND THE REAL GIRL (2007)

2008-07-02T18:05:00.000-04:00

Lars and the Real Girl
Directed by Craig Gillespie
Grade: B+

As much as it seems that Lars and the Real Girl, a story about one man’s imaginary relationship with a blow-up sex doll, would warrant the PG-13 rating it received, the film is really more family fare than it thinks it is. It is about dealing with loss, dealing with interpersonal relationships (or lack thereof), and retreating to the familiarity of comfort zones, even if it makes those around you uncomfortable.

It’s interesting (yes, here I go again.) Craig Gillespie’s light-hearted dramedy is deemed inappropriate for those under thirteen only from the underlying insinuation that naturally follows any inflatable sex toy. Yet, that is all Gillespie allows – an insinuation. Lars and the Real Girl is rated PG-13 for “some sexual situations.” Oddly enough, the film’s main character inhabits a far more trustworthy, non-objectifying, non-sexual opinion of his anatomically correct female doll than most teen-marketed films have on real women appearing in movies these days. This is a film that approaches its subject matter in a mature, sincere way. However, one can’t help but feel as if the MPAA’s Classification and Ratings Administration has missed the mark once again, rating a film, in this case, based on the notion of what an adult toy represents rather than how it is actually used. Beyond one brief moment in the early minutes of the film where the doll manufacturer’s website is displayed, a moment executed in good taste, safe humor, and hardly necessitating the shielding of a youngster’s eyes, Lars and the Real Girl sidesteps what could have easily been a sex-crammed setup and digs into a rather simple, intriguing, and wholesome story.

Lars and the Real Girl plays it straight and narrow, and as a result, the audience gets everything in between without the camp or the guilt of what could have been a potential spoon-feeding. It’s as genuine as it comes. My only criticism: The townsfolk in the film are far too easily swayed to jump on board with Lars’ (Ryan Gosling) imagination. I would only hope that every community could be like the one in this film – even with an occasional raised eyebrow, the entire town is ready to play along and humanize Lars’ doll. With the exception of the short-lived reluctance of Lars’ brother, Gus (Paul Schneider), there is really no one in town that stands firm against the notion of pretending that Bianca (the doll) is real. Having a steadfast antagonist (or two) in town would have added that extra layer of conflict to round out Lars and the Real Girl. Without that antagonist, the town’s willingness to play make believe, while heartwarming, is just a hair too convenient.

Forgiving that, Lars and the Real Girl makes for some enjoyable Sunday night movie-watching.

Even the Goulash enjoys playing a little pretend every once in a while. That’s why today we’re cozying up with a little artificial tastiness that is just begging to be passed off as the real thing. Here’s a quick, delicious, and appropriate little recipe for Faux Crab Cakes that we found recently while perusing the website for Paula Deen and Food Network:

Vegetable oil, for frying
2 (6-ounce) cans tuna fish
1 egg, beaten
2 tablespoons diced green onions
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup bread crumbs
Lemon juice, optional

Heat 1-inch of oil in a large skillet over medium heat. While oil is heating, combine tuna, beaten egg, green onions, mayonnaise, 1/4 cup bread crumbs, and lemon juice, to taste, if desired. Form into patties and dust with additional bread crumbs. When oil is hot, fry patties until golden brown, about 2 minutes on each side. Remove from oil and drain on paper towels before serving.

Note: My taking issue with the PG-13 rating is nothing new around here. What do you think? Feel free to chime in.

MARIE ANTOINETTE (2006)

2008-06-13T18:10:00.000-04:00

Marie Antoinette
Directed by Sofia Coppola
Grade: B+

Sofia Coppola’s third feature outing is a slick examination of the soul behind the film’s title character instead of the strict, historically-based biopic that one would expect. Here, Coppola, while sticking to factual benchmarks along the way, offers up a lyrical interpretation of the Archduchess of Austria and Queen of France rather than dialing in a two-hour term paper on the subject.

Kirsten Dunst is, at first sight, a seemingly odd choice for the title role, but quickly proves that Coppola knew exactly what she was doing when she cast her. Dunst nails the rebellious, youthful nature of a child hastily thrust into adulthood, while wearing the forced poise and learned grace commonly found pressed and hanging in the wardrobe of teenage royalty. She is a familiar actress with a resume filled with young adult roles, which makes the choice of casting her here a good one. Dunst has always been rather playful on-screen, and young audiences can better relate to Dunst than, perhaps, a more unrecognizable actress playing Marie Antoinette on the straight and narrow.

The soundtrack of the film, a mixture of Baroque music, 80’s New Wave and modern artists, was somewhat criticized upon the film’s release as another in a string of period pieces attempting to draw in younger audiences by incorporating more familiar music cues – A Knight’s Tale (2001), for example. However, Coppola’s use of music in Marie Antoinette adds another personal layer to her interpretation of the young dauphine, shaping her as a teenager with emotions and desires which are universal, in many respects, to contemporary youth. As Marie Antoinette retreats to the lush, courtly lifestyle of Versailles, she does what just about any teen might do – hang with friends, explore her boundaries, etc. – and the choice of music only complements the internal adolescence of the character, although the dress and etiquette for the period may strike a dissident chord when set against popular tunes.

Coppola also chooses to omit significant and more familiar moments of the history of Marie Antoinette, particularly the events following the fleeing of the royal family from Versailles. We know how the young queen’s story ends. And yet, Coppola opts to leave that chapter for another day, taking a more subtle and, perhaps, meaningful approach. It is an appropriate ending for the film; as Marie says goodbye to Versailles, we witness a spoiled child of royalty transform into a mature woman, if only by exile. The film leaves us satisfied, nonetheless, leaving the popular and grisly demise for the history books.

What I found interesting about Marie Antoinette was how, once again, Coppola explores young female characters and their associations with an entourage. I think back to Coppola’s short film Lick the Star (1998), where a group of junior high school-age girls whisper and connive and flirt with the boys – much like the Lisbon sisters of The Virgin Suicides (1999) and the ladies of Versailles here. Girls in groups being girls. It’s a common theme that continues to crop up in Coppola’s work, and it always is examined through the use of her unique taste in music.

While not a perfect film, her ability to translate a taught, personal vision to the screen and her willingness to take a few risks along the way is why Sofia Coppola continues to be one of the most talented female directors in American cinema today.

In honor of a film exploring the pompous riches and blistering ruin of a royal family during the heat of the French Revolution, the Goulash would like to offer up Marie Antoinette’s Pork Crown Roast:

1 tablespoon dried parsley flakes
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 pork crown roast (14 ribs and about 8 pounds)
Foil or paper frills for rib ends

In a small bowl, combine the parsley, oil, salt and pepper; rub over roast. Place on a rack in a large shallow roasting pan. Cover rib ends with pieces of foil. Bake at 350° for 3 to 3-1/2 hours or until a meat thermometer reads 160°. Transfer roast to a serving platter. Let stand for 10-15 minutes. Remove foil pieces. Garnish rib ends with foil or paper frills. Cut between ribs to serve. For a superb finish, let them eat cake!

[Recipe from Taste of Home – with thanks to Shelly for the suggestion!]

TEETH (2007)

2008-06-12T18:13:00.000-04:00

Teeth
Directed by Mitchell Lichtenstein
Grade: C+

I don’t know what’s worse – the fact that someone felt compelled to make a horror film involving the infamous Vagina Dentata myth, or the fact that I felt compelled to watch it.

Strangely enough, Mitchell Lichtenstein’s dark comedy horror, Teeth starts out surprisingly strong, with quirky characters and a stinging commentary on sex (and abstinence) education in our high schools. However, from about the middle of the story on, the film loses its steam and resorts to being rather standard (and silly) revenge fare. Not that every horror film has to be a work of art, mind you, but Teeth had, for the first thirty minutes, the makings of a well-dressed bloodbath. It’s only a shame Lichtenstein’s film goes limp prematurely.

In all its surface-level camp, I found myself having trouble wrapping my head around whether Teeth is a feminist film or one that is quite misogynistic. Here we have a sweet, naïve teenager, Dawn, who goes to great lengths to refrain from discovering her sexuality – she fears it, even – until she is eventually deflowered (by force) and soon learns that her sex has more bite than bark, providing the means to effectively take vengeance upon male violence.

Many viewers have cheered for Dawn, making her the heroine. There are those that see otherwise. Dawn begins the film as a meek and gentle creature. By film’s end, and through the carnage she has wrought behind her, she is strong. And yet, the film is written and directed by a male – so does his artistic impression upon the film, and the fact that all the male characters (with the exception of Dawn’s father) are sexually attracted to Dawn and are ultimately mutilated by her womanhood, make the film misogynistic in nature? Even the reviewer’s quote on the poster observes that the film is “the most alarming cautionary tale for men since Fatal Attraction.” The reviewer is male. What if the reviewer had been female? Are we to see Dawn as champion or villain? Does Lichtenstein fear the Vagina Dentata or is he fascinated by its power? And can the gender of the creative force behind a film alone dictate that point of view?

Unfortunately, the thematic arguments become far more compelling than the film itself, and what could have been a smart and sinister allegory turns out to be nothing more than a gross-out gimmick pic.

I’ve washed my hands with soap and water.

Sometimes a film/food pairing is painfully obvious, and with a film like Teeth – which showcases a fancy for lopped genitals that goes unparalleled – we feel we have a duty to serve up a healthy helping of our Bratwurst and Pasta al Dentata:

1 lbs. Rigatoni or other medium pasta shape
15 oz. fresh bratwurst
1/2 cup beer
1-1/2 cups low-fat cheddar cheese
2 sweet red peppers, coarsely chopped
1 cup onions, coarsely chopped
4 garlic cloves, chopped
1/2 cup fresh basil
1 tbsp. olive oil

Preheat oven to 425°F. Mix red pepper, onions, and garlic with 1 Tbsp. of olive oil in 9 x 13 baking dish and roast in oven for 25 minutes; stirring occasionally.

While vegetables roast, remove casing from bratwurst, crumble and brown in a skillet over medium heat until they are no longer pink and well brown. Remove bratwurst and drain on paper towel. Pour fat from skillet. Add bratwurst and beer to skillet and simmer. Cook pasta according to package directions and drain, reserving 1/2 cup of pasta water.

Remove roasted vegetables from oven, immediately add bratwurst from skillet, add basil, pasta, 1 cup of cheese and toss to mix thoroughly. If mixture seems too dry, add some of the pasta water to moisten. Sprinkle remaining cheese over top and serve. Serves 10-12.

(Recipe from the National Pasta Association.)

IRON MAN (2008)

2008-06-07T18:17:00.000-04:00

Iron Man
Directed by Jon Favreau
Grade: B+

Honestly, I’ve never really been into comic books – or graphic novels, if that’s the preferred jargon. I’ve never been one to follow the adventures of Spiderman, the X-Men, Superman, Batman or Captain America, and, I’ll admit, this growing trend of superheroes blotting up the summer movie schedule year after year is becoming familiar and tiring. But, please don’t start shaking up the movie sked on my account – not just yet, anyway. If Hollywood can follow the example of Iron Man, I’ll be okay with continued product from DC Comics and Marvel Studios.

Iron Man is a thoroughly enjoyable piece of escapism that does exactly what it should do: take its time. As I said in my brief review of Jumper (2008), this genre tends to skimp on the set-up and gets straight to the action, with nothing to help us fully engage with the character. We need to see the development of a superpower and the way in which the person upon whom that power is bestowed deals with it. Character and power go hand-in-hand. Without it, the film becomes nothing more than a stunt show. Batman Begins (2005) was successful in this regard, and the same can be said for Iron Man. In both films we see the growth of a hero, and it’s the growth that fosters conflict, the catalyst of any good story. In the case of Jumper, which really could have been an interesting examination into the abuse of power, sidesteps any kind of foundation and quickly (and without remorse) punts us into the film’s second act. Conversely, Iron Man gets suited up gradually, developing a character from man to machine, and never forgets that there is a principle – a well-defined reason – behind his actions.

Robert Downey Jr. fits comfortably into the role of Tony Stark, and it’s a joy to see him take center stage in some light, popcorn fare. Director Jon Favreau finally gets his sea legs in the effect-heavy, live action fantasy realm after a somewhat disappointing outing with Zathura: A Space Adventure (2005). Iron Man is a superhero film made by someone who really likes superheroes – there’s a love of comic books here that nicely translates to the screen without being the least bit pushy. Unfortunately, the film does succumb to a healthy tablespoon of predictability, but it’s a small blip on an otherwise can-I-get-an-amen start to the 2008 summer movie season.

Today the Goulash is serving up an iron-rich meal fit for any superhero. We call it Tony Stark’s Hot Rod Red Pepper and Liver Stir Fry:

1½ tbsp peanut oil
8 oz. liver, cut into strips
1 leek, diagonally sliced
1 red pepper, seeded and cut into rough squares
1 red chili, seeded and finely chopped
1 tsp dried oregano
1 garlic clove, crushed
4 oz. spring greens, thinly sliced
grated zest of 1 orange and 2 tbsp juice
2 tbsp medium dry sherry

Heat a tablespoon of the oil in a large non-stick frying pan. Add the liver and stir fry over a moderately high heat for 3 minutes until light brown - don’t cook for longer or the liver will become rubbery. Remove to a plate, leaving the juices in the pan. Tip the leek, red pepper and chili into the pan with the rest of the oil and stir fry over a high heat for 2 minutes. Add the oregano, garlic and greens and stir fry for a further 30 seconds or so, until the greens have just wilted and turned a nice bright green. Return the liver to the pan, add the orange zest and juice, sherry, then season. Toss everything together on a high heat and serve immediately. Serves two.

(Recipe from Good Food magazine, March 2003.)

INDIANA JONES AND THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL (2008)

2008-05-25T18:23:00.000-04:00

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Directed by Steven Spielberg
Grade: C-

Like the third Jurassic Park movie, it’s as if someone new stepped into Spielberg’s shoes, took over the helm of the Indiana Jones franchise and did their best to try to stay true to the series, only to craft together an installment that gets off to a whip-cracking start and then trades its soul for a rather weak story, outlandish suspension of disbelief and humor that, in places, smacks of Jar Jar Binks.

While popcorn fun on its own merit, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is by far the weakest of the four films. What’s disappointing about this film, and ultimately where the series has gone, is that it has taken its cue from George Lucas and slipped into the campy, humorous adventure zone rather than the sincere rock ‘em sock ‘em entertainment from which it built its original fan base. This is exactly what happened with Star Wars. It has become more cute than crisp. And in the fourth installment of the Indiana Jones series, there were moments that (I’ll be one to say it) just had no business being in an Indiana Jones movie. When desert rodents start playing the comic foil to Harrison Ford and tree monkeys offer up MacGyver-esque, you-gotta-see-it-to-believe-it escape routes, you know that the Indiana Jones films have more pressing issues to deal with than aging cast members.

Speaking of which: I’m all for incorporating Indy’s/Harrison’s age into the story line. People get old. After all, it’s not the years – it’s the mileage. But when the actor’s age affects the pacing of the action, then you’ve got a problem. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull had many spots where it felt as if the camera operators and editors had to lag behind a bit to wait for Indy to catch up. Back in the day, when Indiana ran across high catwalks avoiding a barrage of near-missing bullets, you accepted that he was just one lucky, nimble sonofabitch. However, in this outing, Indy lumbers along like a slow moving bull’s-eye and you can’t help but feel as if his enemies are nothing more than piss-poor shots. Take aim, Gomer Pyle – it takes the old man five seconds to get around a corner, for Pete’s sake.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull tries too hard to be what it thinks it needs to be. It’s forced in every way. With surface-level characters that add little more to the film than waxing the nostalgic, and long-winded chase sequences that grossly defy even the most simplistic laws of physics, not to mention a climax and denouement that’ll have the audience offering a collectively disappointed sigh, the fourth – and hopefully final – chapter of the Indiana Jones series fails to recapture the heart of its predecessors and follows too closely in the footsteps of Lucas’ desire to once again reintroduce a classic franchise to a modern generation.

Nickel List #7: The Simple Title Sequence

2008-05-03T18:26:00.003-04:00

In case you’ve missed it, Piper over at Lazy Eye Theatre posted a fun piece on elaborate opening title sequences entitled "Credit Mayhem Part 1" (and will obviously have more to offer on the subject shortly). Credit sequences certainly are an art unto themselves and there have been some creative and innovative ones throughout film history – thanks to Piper for turning the spotlight onto them.

And yet, let us not forget the unsung heroes of the credit sequence. Let us not shun the simple and plain for the lustful allure of the intricate and complex. I’m talking about the 1980s. I’m talking about a prologue of virtually nothing.

I’m talking about white titles on black.

That’s it. Nothing more. It was a straightforward, uncomplicated and trouble-free two minutes of watching names flash on a screen set to a pop song or an orchestral score to set the tone and hook us into buying the soundtrack cassette. It was an attempt by moviemakers in the neon era to take the musical overtures of the golden age and put them to practical use by sneaking the formalities by us.

There was nothing flashy about them, but some of the most memorable credit sequences were these innocent, little preambles – and to this day, these simple sequences play prologue to some of our favorite 80s films. Therefore, here are my picks for the best no-design opening title sequences that have, at least for this writer, staked a special claim in my memory.

As usual, in no particular order:

1. Fletch (1985)
1985 was a good year for movies. This title sequence only takes the credits about halfway before finishing them up over the opening beach scene, but it’s enough, with its cheesy, somewhat out-of-place pop theme – “Bit By Bit (Theme From Fletch)” by Stephanie Mills – to set the jocular tone.

2. The Breakfast Club (1985)
Another fine entry from 1985. If you grew up in the 80s, you know the first two beats of this opening by heart. The Universal logo appears, a cymbal crash and a killer drum beat sends you on your way. Not a better pairing than this title/music combo. “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by Simple Minds will always be remembered for this opening.

3. She’s Having a Baby (1988)
Another John Hughes film. “It’s All In The Game” by Carmel adds a mature and loving quality to the sequence, forewarning us that Hughes is graduating from high school cinema and taking on heavier adult subject matter, while keeping it light. Can’t remember it? Carmel’s music video, strangely featuring Emma Thompson and Alfred Molina, can be seen here.

4. Hellraiser (1987)
It was dark and foreboding, and this simple title credit sequence truly pinned you to your seat and made you slink into your popcorn while your date already had her eyes covered. The original score by Christopher Young is priceless in this overture. One of my first horror film experiences in the movie theater.

5. Blade Runner (1982)
Okay, so it’s red titles on black, but this opening sequence, featuring a phenomenal musical score by Vangelis, never gets old. Eerie and especially simple. The payoff: the glorious, widescreen fade-in on the future of Los Angeles. I liken it to the thrilling ascent on a jaw-dropping rollercoaster. This sequence is a top-notch waiting game to get to the really good stuff.

Got a favorite simple title sequence, let me know, and be sure to get in on Piper’s discussion at Lazy Eye Theatre.

HALF NELSON (2006)

2008-04-29T19:47:00.000-04:00

Half Nelson
Directed by Ryan Fleck
Grade: B-

American movie-going audiences are secretly enamored by watching the implosion of others. We take pleasure in playing witness to the downward spiral of our fictitious other, knowing full well we can experience the ride from the comfort and safety of a darkened theater and that we can thank the heavens that, when the credits roll, we may retreat from the on-screen self through which we have lived vicariously, if only for a while. Half Nelson continues that long tradition of self-destruction ala Hollywood – see Leaving Las Vegas (1995) and The Lost Weekend (1945) – complete with alcoholic wishes and crack pipe dreams.

Director Ryan Fleck’s feature film debut follows the deepening inebriation of a middle school history teacher, Dan Dunne, (precisely driven by an Oscar-nominated Ryan Gosling) whose hidden extracurricular activities quickly become his most prominent feature. As Dan continuously attempts to have a better go than the day before, his hangovers become heavier and each mistake made in a drug-induced haze ultimately turns out to be more damning than the last. It is only when his teacher-student relationship with street-hardened Drey (Shareeka Epps) evolves into a more substantial and complicated friendship does Dan begin to take some stock in himself.

As the film begins to take shape, Fleck does provide some interesting commentary on the comparison of Dan’s lifestyle to the irony surrounding the socially-accepted vices of those around him, particularly within the framework of his own family. The wine and spirits flow freely at the Dunne household at dinner time, and Dan soon sees that even his brother’s new girlfriend, who has been brought home to meet the parents, is uneasy at the level of consumption throughout the course of the evening.

Dan’s temptations, choices and consequences are nicely paralleled with those of Drey – she is lured onto the path that follows in the footsteps of her incarcerated brother – and we watch helplessly as both inch further and further away from the people we know they really are. We root for them, but can’t turn away from the train wreck. All this personal demolition, however, culminates into a far-too-convenient encounter that brings everything to a head, and a resolution that smacks of enough ambiguity and hope to leave you optimistic, yet unsatisfied.

Unfortunately, Half Nelson loses points for its inability to lock down a shot. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; there’s a big difference between going handheld for style and forcing style upon your handheld. One is the attempt to capture the scene without the sticks and knowing that you are trying to achieve a steady, yet unpolished image; the other is over-thinking the handheld style and nauseating your audience into submission. The Constant Gardener (2005) and even Woody Allen’s Husbands and Wives (1992) are also accomplices in this practice (although once you take your Dramamine, the latter becomes a rather fine film.) I’ll concede that I fully understand what Fleck is reaching for in his seemingly raw and unfiltered approach to the material – the point was well made – and yet, there were scenes where his handheld-for-effect trips over the pretentious and never regains balance.

Half Nelson is worth viewing if only to take in the performances of Gosling and Epps and a smart, gritty script penned by Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden. It appears as if the self-destructive role is truly an actor’s prize – and for those of us who find comfort in watching characters struggle to climb from their own holes, these types of films are a genre in itself and a gift that Hollywood seems to enjoy giving year after year.

TEN CANOES (2006)

2008-04-05T19:51:00.000-04:00

Ten Canoes
Directed by Rolf de Heer (co-directed by Peter Djigirr)
Grade: A-

Rolf de Heer’s award-winning Ten Canoes, a charming and engaging cinematic experience at eye level, is more of an intriguing study into ancient Aboriginal society and culture and a visual document on the art of oral storytelling. Its themes of family, honor, and rites of passage are universal and we transcend from our modern-day, Western expectations with surprising ease to a society that lives by basic rules and mores. The soul of Ten Canoes resonates like the tale told near a late night campfire, or a fable read at a children’s story hour, or a historic account shared by a nostalgic grandfather – stories always offered with care. Ten Canoes holds dear that oral tradition and trusts its story, and the means by which it is told, will bring us to a place where basic principles always outmaneuver complex issues, and the connective tissue of humanity has the ability to span races and generations.

During a goose egg hunt in the Arnhem Land Region of Northern Australia, it is revealed that youthful Dayindi (Jamie Gulpilil) has taken a fancy to the youngest of his elder brother’s three wives. As the group of Aboriginal men construct their canoes and set out on the hunt, the elder brother, Minygululu (Peter Minygululu), shares an ancestral parable about a warrior named Ridjimiraril and his own three wives, the youngest of whom is the object of his brother’s affection. It is a tale of fidelity and jealousy that comes not without mistaken identities, tribal comeuppances, and a key lesson to be passed down through the ages.

The film embarks on a journey that requires its narrative to be told from two points of contact: the narrator of the film and Minygululu. It is a story told within a story told within a story. The film begins in the present as the narrator gives us a brief overview about his people then quickly leads us into the distant past. From there, the goose egg hunt unfolds and Minygululu, with the help of the narrator, takes us into what is known as the mythical past. The shifting ages of time in the film are cleverly and effectively kept in check by the use of black and white for the goose egg hunt scenes, and color for the present and mythical past segments.

Although De Heer has received criticism for being a white director helming a film about an indigenous people, much like the criticism Steven Spielberg received for his role in directing The Color of Purple (1985), Ten Canoes is successfully carried on its authenticity and sense of humor, with a cast that proudly and playfully contributes its heritage to a project directed by an outsider who takes his film’s subject matter seriously and with due respect. There is a strong sense that, while De Heer was the overseer of the project, much of the native culture and tongue brought to the screen was done so through a fascinating collaboration with the film’s credited co-director, Peter Djigirr (who also acts in the film), David Gulpilil (the film’s narrator) and the Yolngu people of Ramingining. Side note: Therese Davis has written a wonderful little piece on this collaboration which is posted on the Senses of Cinema site. Read it here.

My only real criticism of the film is that sometimes the narration can get in its own way. Unfortunately, the oral tradition of storytelling needs to be accommodating to the visual requirements of cinema; as charismatic and welcoming the narration is throughout the course of the film, too much narration is never a good thing and there are a few select moments where the visual conveys what is necessary and the narration only belabors the obvious. However, if you can look beyond the occasional overuse of narration, the voiceover becomes more a part of the film’s anthropological quality than a device.

I’ve been touring some Australian wines as of late (see my note on The Lackey, a nice Australian Shiraz that happened to be within reach during my viewing of Into the Wild), and it’s only appropriate that I have one paired here. Today, Cinema Goulash has uncorked a 2005 Evil Cabernet from R Winery. Let this one breathe a little, as it’s surprisingly sweet, startling even, on the first few swallows. Soon, its intended richness will bloom. Vanilla will start things off, dark fruits will meet you mid-way, and you’ll finish with toasty cedar and cocoa. Didn’t quite reach the status attained by The Lackey, but certainly robust enough to keep me happy. This much character for ten dollars? By all means, mate, give it a burl!

Pack your knives and go... to the movies!

2008-04-04T19:56:00.000-04:00

Yummy! Did you happen to catch Top Chef Wednesday night? The Goulash household watches it religiously. This episode (Season 4, Episode 4) was worthy of note as Padma (again, yummy!), Tom, and the Top Chef gang ambled into the wonderful world of film and food. With Chef Daniel Boulud as this week’s guest judge, the contestants sharpened up the knives and went to quick work crafting up eats fit for a group of film-loving diners, which included movie critic Richard Roeper and actress Aisha Tyler.

The contestants were asked to pair up, pick a movie, and then whip up a delight inspired by their film. Here’s a rundown of the chosen movies and their respective dishes:

Film: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971)
Dish: Smoked Salmon with Faux Caviar & White Chocolate Wasabi Sauce. [Recipe]

Film: Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)
Dish: Summer Roll with Black Vermicelli. [Recipe]

Film: Talk to Her (2002)
Dish: Rack of Lamb with Saffron Cauliflower Puree. [Recipe]

Film: Il Postino (1994)
Dish: Tortellini with Cavolo Nero. [Recipe]

Film: A Christmas Story (1983)
Dish: Quail Breast with Carrot Puree, Cranberry Chutney & Quail Spring Rolls. [Recipe]

Film: Top Secret (1984)
Dish: NY Strip Steak, Braised Short Rib & Apple Potsticker with Caramel Sauce. [Recipe]

Hmm. I’ll have to try these pairings for myself and report back.

Word on the street? Or just a great April Fool's joke?

2008-03-31T20:01:00.000-04:00

The Cinema Goulash crock pot is bubbling over with this nonsense that’s hit the web: Madonna looking to star in remake of Casablanca! Cripes! If the Michael Bay/Rosemary’s Baby news wasn’t enough to force me to fashion a colostomy bag, now I may lose an appendage or two with the thought of the Goulash’s all-time favorite film on the verge of being raped by the Material Girl. The horror! Google Madonna and Casablanca and you’ll get over 305,000 hits on the subject. I first heard about it through Yahoo! which was pushing an item from the TeamSugar folks.

Now, methinks there’s something fishy cooking with all this. I’m hedging a bet (and keeping all my fingers and toes crossed) that this is all an elaborate April Fool’s joke that has simply run rampant throughout the media. Please. Please. Please. More to come.

Burp!

HORTON HEARS A WHO! (2008)

2008-03-28T20:03:00.000-04:00

Horton Hears a Who!
Directed by Jimmy Hayward and Steve Martino
Grade: B+

The wife and I gleefully hauled the Goulash tot, upon her request, to the opening of Horton Hears a Who! about two weeks back – and after cashing in my Regal Reward points for a small popcorn (which, for an additional fifty cents, I quickly upgraded to a gratuitously hefty Medium) and mournfully watching a gaggle of pre-teen girls romp toward the cinema that was showing College Road Trip (which, I took note, emerged ninety minutes later with a collective, dissatisfied look), we settled into our seats in time for the new Speed Racer trailer and what I thought would be standard Jim Carrey/Dr. Seuss fare. I am pleased to say and happy to report that Horton Hears a Who! surprisingly surpassed my expectations and turned out to be an enjoyable piece of work after all.

Despite the fact that the film has a bit of a bloated mid-section that seems to wear on the patience of the wee ones, the animation is crisp and the moments that need to count do. Jim Carrey and Steve Carell are virtually interchangeable in their vocal performances – and one has to wonder how the casting directors came to their decision to place the stars in their respective roles. In one sense, I suppose that’s a good thing as Carrey really pulls the reigns on his usual off-the-wall antics, leaving us with a Horton that is clearly and refreshingly more Horton than Carrey. What’s more, Carol Burnett is delightful as the cranky Kangaroo and Charles Osgood is simply a natural as the film’s narrator.

On the surface, the children will get the “all are equal and important” theme while the adults can appreciate deeper interpretations that springboard into religious/agnostic arenas and even hint into the abortion debate (the line, “a person is a person no matter how small” was actually swiped by pro-lifers some time back, leaving the Geisel/Seuss estate none too pleased.)

It’s worth the price of admission just to see the animators get crazy in a couple of spots, most notably a Pokémon-laced anime sequence that’ll make the kids giggle and leave the adults thinking, “What the f**k?” There’s also a nice moment where the animation takes an earnest cue from the book’s illustrations – a humble homage to Seuss-as-it-should-be. As for our Goulash tot, she’s given this one a big thumbs-up. I think we’re both on the same page. If you have yet to see any of the other Dr. Seuss features, skip the live-action turds How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000) and The Cat in the Hat (2003) and start with Horton. And stick with the small popcorn. It’s more than enough for eighty-eight minutes of movie.

Nickel List #6: Oscar has left the building. Let’s catch up.

2008-03-01T20:07:00.001-05:00

Having spent this week in Academy Award detox, I’ve returned this evening to a piping hot pot of American Chop Suey – the basis of all things Goulash. This gesture by my wonderful wife has provided me with solid footing as I cleanse myself of all the pomp and circumstance of last weekend’s industry love fest. As I’ve said elsewhere, this simple and delicious meal featuring nothing more than pasta, ground beef, onions, and tomato sauce reboots my system and brings me back to the basics of everything in life – including cinema. Now that the Hollywood glad-handing and grandstanding has subsided for another year, I’m looking forward to adding more eclectic film fare into the Goulash mix in the coming months as I’ve spent the far too much time rushing to catch up on the mainstream offerings leading up to awards weekend. We’ll be working in some nice food/wine suggestions, as well.

Before moving onward and upward, however, here’s a quick rundown of five films I’ve seen in the last two weeks that merit some attention:

As usual, in no particular order…

1. No Country for Old Men (2007)

It earned itself an Oscar, but was it really Best Picture of the Year? I suppose I’m in that minority that thinks not. There’s no doubt that this Coen Brothers entry was riveting and suspenseful, and Coenphiles the world over have endlessly dissected it, looking for meaning and symbolism in every shot and nuance. However, as compelling as it is, No Country for Old Men seemed to lack the breadth of allegorical imagery found in the stronger Barton Fink (1991) or character engagement of Fargo (1996). Only slightly overrated by critics, it is an undemanding, ultra-violent game of cat and mouse. It’s a chase movie. Now, before you start pummeling me with self-interpreted existential matter and other intellectual whatnot discovered in the subtext of the film, let me say that I’m all for cinematic ambiguity and am completely receptive to underlying themes cleverly disguised within cinematography, set design and performance. I get Anton Chigurh’s (Javier Bardem) personification of Death and the questions asked of each character’s existence. I fully appreciate the Coen’s sense of irony and the fact they have crafted a rather intellectual thriller which warrants repeat viewing. Nominated for Best Picture? Definitely. Should it have won the Oscar? Not necessarily. There Will Be Blood was the more resonant and fulfilling of the two strongest Best Picture nominees, in my opinion. That said, No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood are two very different films working to achieve two very different goals. No Country for Old Men does what it means to do very well. However, there are other films in the Coen Brothers repertoire that are more gratifying and first deserve the Best Picture nod. Grade: B+

2. Jumper (2008)

I heard someone say once that, to be a true film buff, you need to see everything – even the garbage. Regardless of whether or not I agree with that theory (I’ll save that commentary for some other day), I think Jumper fills my quota for the week. It takes an army to make a film, even a bad one. But in this case, let’s pick on the screenwriters. You know you have something special when three scribes are brought on to bastardize a project – the material for which was handed to them through a previously published novel by Steven Gould – and all that emerges from the rubble is eighty-eight minutes of unoriginal, unapologetic pap that sets in motion an assembly line of even more drivel to be packaged with a number or a fancy title (i.e., Jumper 2: Leap of Faith, or something equally nauseating.) Three screenwriters. It pales in comparison to the six writers and three editors attached to Armageddon (1998), but it certainly doesn’t make it any less amusing. Here we have Hayden Christensen playing yet another whiny incarnation of Anakin Skywalker – this time as a young snot who discovers that he has the ability to teleport himself to anywhere. As expected, he abuses his power and travels the world, picks up women and occasionally robs a bank. Heaven forbid if he were ever to use his gift for good. From there, we are hit with an onslaught of weak character development, convenient plot-twists, and enough backstory to fill a Post-It note. Was I surprised by what became of Jumper? No. I knew what I was getting into. But with Doug Liman (The Bourne Identity, Mr. & Mrs. Smith) at the helm, I suppose I was looking for a popcorn actioner that was just a little smarter and a little fresher than the rest. I gave it an inch and it took a mile. Maybe even two. Grade: D+

3. Persepolis (2007)

Marjane Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud’s animated film (based upon Satrapi’s graphic novel of the same name) is a refreshing, hand-drawn entry in a slew of computer-generated cartoons currently monopolized by the Pixar and DreamWorks Animation bunch. The film follows Satrapi as a forthright nine year-old girl living in Iran at the start of the Islamic Revolution. The Shah is overthrown and the people are elated, that is, until their hopes for freedom are buried with the introduction of an Islamic fundamentalist government that, to their surprise, brings far less democracy than its predecessor. This is a stimulating and inspirational piece that really gets back to the brass tacks of animation. The style of Satrapi’s graphic novel and film is obviously influenced by Art Spiegelman’s Holocaust memoir, Maus, and again the form fits the subject matter. It takes a moment or two to adjust to the style – we’re, perhaps, too accustomed to the ultra-slick look of polished Disney fare – but you’re quickly drawn (no pun intended) into the simplicity of the pen strokes, compared to today’s state-of-the-art graphics, and how complex and human the lives of animated characters can be – especially when they are something other than rats, robots, toys, cars or doe-eyed caricatures of people. I’m never troubled by subtitled films, but the animation in Persepolis is so mesmerizing and full of heart, I found myself missing lines of dialogue while being so riveted by the film’s artistry. No matter. Persepolis is one of those rare films that translates so well though its visuals, regardless of the language. The real winner of the Oscar for Best Animated Film, in my opinion. Grade: A-

4. Michael Clayton (2007)

A taut and enjoyable corporate thriller, Michael Clayton was everything it needed to be, following in the footsteps of the likes of The Firm (1993) and A Civil Action (1998), yet had no business being grouped in the Best Picture category. The shocker of this year’s Academy Awards came with Tilda Swinton’s win for Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role. Hooray for Tilda Swinton, but let’s be honest; Saoirse Ronan (Atonement) and Cate Blanchett (I’m Not There) are the nominated supporting roles from which to pick a winner. My jaw dropped as far as Swinton’s when hearing her name read. Yes, her role as Karen Crowder was solid and entertaining, but Oscar-winning? This dilemma seemed to be a recurring theme at this year’s Academy Awards. George Clooney is fine in the title role, but – again – it’s an actor doing what he does best by skipping through recognizable territory. Here we have Clooney playing Dr. Doug Ross (“ER”) playing Danny Ocean (Ocean’s Eleven) playing Chris Kelvin (Solaris) playing Fred Friendly (Good Night, and Good Luck) playing Michael Clayton. He’s good, but he’s in all too familiar a role. Standing out is Tom Wilkinson as the corporate attorney who is suddenly off his meds and his rocker – or is he? Most certainly the strongest Supporting Actor nominee second only to Javier Bardem. Tony Gilroy’s original screenplay and directing are spot on and James Newton Howard’s score is also worthy of the Oscar nomination it received. Grade: B

5. There Will Be Blood (2007)

Paul Thomas Anderson’s adaptation of Upton Sinclair’s novel is a masterpiece. Teeming with allegory and symbolism, There Will Be Blood is a rare American film that makes you proud to have it be a representative of American cinema. The film takes great pleasure in laying down the parallels between a soul-less oil man (Daniel Day Lewis) and a pseudo-evangelical (Paul Dano) like the river cards in a high stakes poker game. Our protagonist and antagonist have character arcs that actually change them and fatal flaws that damn them. It is a classic story of good vs. evil/Heaven vs. Hell and I sat back and absorbed every last minute of it. Daniel Day-Lewis is an extraordinary actor who dares to act and deliver a performance with painstaking precision – as my brother so eloquently put it: “Put a moustache on this man and he can f**king act!” Jonny Greenwood’s evocative and ultra-dissident musical score adds a haunting and ruthless quality to a lonely Western landscape. Many have pooh-poohed the 158 minute run time. But, as you know, I have an affinity for films that take their time, tell their story, and couldn’t give a crap about packing in as many daily screenings as possible at the local cineplex. My pick for the best film of 2007. Grade: A

Update: (March 3, 2008) Monday. Back to work. The food gods are smiling upon me as I venture to one of my favorite downtown Concord lunchtime haunts, The Brown Bag Deli, to find that the special to day is – go figure – American Chop Suey. Having started off this post with yummy talk about one of my all-time favorite comfort foods, I just had to include this bit of news here. Straightforward stuff, no funny business in this pot of goulash. Standard ingredients, plenty of it served nice and hot with grilled bread and a side salad for $5.50. Some of the best cheap eats around. I’m a bit of a regular there. You’re bound to hear more about this and other local sandwich shops in the future.

The Brown Bag Deli is located on Main Street in Concord, NH. You can reach them by phone at 603-225-9110 or by taking a leisurely stroll through this particularly handsome New England downtown strip. Can’t miss it. It’s across the street from the New Hampshire State House.

Oscar 2008: Live Blogging Coverage

2008-02-24T20:19:00.000-05:00

That’s it folks. Another one for the books. Overall, pretty lackluster and choppy. Felt like a writers strike just ended and everyone was sent scrambling to put this show together. No matter. Being bad is part of it’s appeal, I suppose. Thanks for checking in with us this evening. Cut and print.

11:47 p.m. - Best motion picture of the year: “No Country for Old Men”, Scott Rudin, Ethan Coen and Joel Coen, Producers. Ditto my Directing comments. At least I could feel good for Scott Rudin. Denzel Washington presented. 10-14.

11:44 p.m. - Achievement in directing: “No Country for Old Men”, Joel Coen and Ethan Coen. Martin Scorsese presented. C’mon boys, just because you make thinking man films doesn’t mean you have to act like it. Show some real gratitude. Cocky. Would have rather seen Paul Thomas Anderson up there and graciously accept the award. Knew it would turn out this way, however. 9-14.

11:34 p.m. - Performance by an actor in a leading role: Daniel Day-Lewis in “There Will Be Blood”. A given. Absolutely deserved. Class act. Helen Mirren presented. 8-14.

11:26 p.m. - Original screenplay: “Juno”, Diablo Cody. Awesome that the former stripper turned writer actually tugs on her dress several times on her way up to the stage, worried that too much may be showing. Piece of advice, though - if you’re overcome with emotion and have to rush to get offstage, pause long enough to politely take the envelope from a legend like Harrison Ford, rather than grab it out of his hand. Presented by Harrison Ford. 7-14.

11:18 p.m. - Best documentary feature: “Taxi to the Dark Side”, Alex Gibney and Eva Orner. Presented by Tom Hanks. 6-14.

11:14 p.m. - Best documentary short subject: “Freeheld”, Cynthia Wade and Vanessa Roth. Nice touch having our servicemen and women overseas name the nominees and award winner. Tom Hanks presented. Classy. Acceptance speech was a bit much. 5-14.

11:10 p.m. - Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original score): “Atonement”, Dario Marianelli. Thought this was the most compelling score of the bunch, although I really enjoyed James Newton Howard’s dark score for Michael Clayton. Beltrami’s score for 3:10 to Yuma was neat, but was a bit too Morricone to award it an Original score Oscar. Amy Adams presented. 5-13.
11:03 p.m. - Let’s all get out our Kleenex. R.I.P.

11:00 p.m. - Achievement in cinematography: “There Will Be Blood”, Robert Elswit. A bit of a surprise. Presented by Cameron Diaz. 4-13.

10:51 p.m. - Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song): “Falling Slowly” from “Once”, Music and Lyric by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova. The odds were in Enchanted’s favor (with three nominations) and my underdog pulled ahead. Props to the telecast producers for cutting off Marketa Irglova just as she gets to the microphone. She walks away, disappointed. The orchestra pauses, the producers giving it a second thought, but it’s already too late. She’s gone. Thanks for squashing her moment like a stink bug. My wife is throroughly disgusted at this practice. Have a heart, guys. - Wait… they’ve brought her back out after the commercial break. Hollywood is about happy endings, after all. Presented by John Travolta. 4-12.

10:44 p.m. - Best foreign language film of the year: “The Counterfeiters”, Austria. Penelope Cruz presented. I know, I know. I’m at 3-12, now. I’m actually starting to root for my not getting any more predictions correct. A bit embarrassing.

10:30 p.m. - Achievement in film editing: “The Bourne Ultimatum”, Christopher Rouse. Jon Stewart gives a slight backhand to editors (and Oscar pools) by observing that someone out there “just pulled ahead in their Oscar pool by taking a guess”. Ouch. Renee Zellweger presented. 3-11.

10:14 p.m. - Performance by an actress in a leading role: Marion Cotillard in “La Vie en Rose”. Another big surprise of the night. Not my pick, but you just can’t help but feel great for her. Forest Whitaker presented (he knows how to open an envelope for effect, doesn’t he?) 3-10.

10:07 p.m. - Achievement in sound mixing: “The Bourne Ultimatum”, Scott Millan, David Parker and Kirk Francis. Mixing and editing gunshots and bullet ricochets is in, apparently. Jonah Hill and Seth Rogen presented. 3-9.

10:04 p.m. - Achievement in sound editing: “The Bourne Ultimatum”, Karen Baker Landers and Per Hallberg. Jonah Hill and Seth Rogen presented. 3-8.

9:49 p.m. - Adapted screenplay: “No Country for Old Men”, Joel Coen & Ethan Coen. A really odd acceptance moment on the part of both the brothers Coen. Was there a bet or an inside joke on the part of Ethan Coen and Josh Brolin? The world may never know. Josh Brolin and James McAvoy presented. 3-7.

9:39 p.m. - Performance by an actress in a supporting role: Tilda Swinton in “Michael Clayton”. The surprise of the night, thus far. Genuine shock on Swinton’s face (as well as mine). I’m going to take the commercial break here to digest this one. Alan Arkin presented. 2-7.

9:34 p.m. - Best animated short film: “Peter & the Wolf”, Suzie Templeton and Hugh Welchman. Presented by Barry B. Benson (Jerry Seinfeld) from Bee Movie. Yeah, cute. 2-6.

9:31 p.m. - Best live action short film: “Le Mozart des Pickpockets (The Mozart of Pickpockets)”, Philippe Pollet-Villard. Didn’t know much about this category. Had heard about “Tanghi Argentini”, so I went with that. Love hearing the acceptance speeches tonight in native tongues. Owen Wilson presented. 2-5.

9:24 p.m. - Our second musical number. The wife takes in a few pages of reading and notes that “she doesn’t like the set this year. It feels like a hospital.” Not sure what that means, exactly, but I’ll roll with it. Not a big fan of it, myself. I mean, when you have Jon Stewart making his entrance from the inside of a column that looks like the vacuum-thingy that sucks up R2-D2 in Star Wars, I think you need to take a second look at your design.

9:19 p.m. - Performance by an actor in a supporting role: Javier Bardem in “No Country for Old Men”. My wife declares that he’s pretty sexy. Jennifer Hudson presented. Perhaps I’m back on track: 2-4.

9:12 p.m. - Achievement in art direction: “Sweeney Todd The Demon Barber of Fleet Street”, Art Direction: Dante Ferretti; Set Decoration: Francesca Lo Schiavo. Finally, my first pick. Cate Blanchett presented. 1-4.

9:09 p.m. - Achievement in visual effects: “The Golden Compass”, Michael Fink, Bill Westenhofer, Ben Morris and Trevor Wood. Dammit. This was my pick until around 10 a.m. this morning when I gave it a second thought, giving the nod to Transformers. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson presented. More bastardized acceptance speeches. 0-4.

8:58 p.m. - Achievement in makeup: “La Vie en Rose”, Didier Lavergne and Jan Archibald. An incredibly nervous Katherine Heigl presented. I’m 0-3 at this point.

8:55 p.m. - Best animated feature film of the year: “Ratatouille”, Brad Bird. Oh, my god. Refreshing animation tossed aside for another talking animal. Anne Hathaway and Steve Carell presented. Batting 0-2.

8:49 p.m. - The obligatory 80 years of Oscar retrospective. Ugh.

8:44 p.m. - Achievement in costume design: “Elizabeth: The Golden Age”, Alexandra Byrne. So, we’re off to the races with an 0-1 start. I half expected Elizabeth to win, but hoped the Academy would not fall prey to the ornate period piece. Anyway, the speech was absolutely short and somewhat sweet - if the rest follow suit, we’ll be in bed by 10 p.m. Jennifer Garner presented.

8:00 p.m. (EST) - It’s red carpet time and ABC has stuck Regis Philbin at the entrance to the Kodak Theatre. The Bleacher Creatures sitting along the sidelines have made it nearly impossible for the Reege to hear himself think. What, George Clooney? What did you say? Oh, here comes Miley Cyrus. Let’s say hello and quickly send her on her way before she pulls a “Huckabee on SNL” (which was hilarious, by the way…)

The Cinema Goulash crock pot is simmering for the evening and we’re in for the long haul. More to come… (read up for updates.)

INTO THE WILD (2007)

2008-02-19T05:46:00.000-05:00

Into the Wild
Directed by Sean Penn
Grade: A-

Into the Wild, Sean Penn’s fourth feature film directorial effort, is an awe-inspiring adventure story that grips you from the start, lyrically retelling Christopher McCandless’s (Emile Hirsch) true and tragic journey through the western wilderness (based upon the book by Jon Krakauer) in what can only be described as a wholly organic piece of filmmaking.

Penn embraces his material lovingly, crafting together a film that is passionate overall and instinctive in its elements. It has a natural, wholesome feel; its style longing to tread in shallow documentary waters or, at least, take a quick swim in cinéma-vérité. While the film follows Penn’s adapted screenplay as a guide, Into the Wild is blessed with abundant magical moments, those happy accidents that occur when you simply let the camera roll and capture the actors interacting with others and the surrounding environment.

We share in Christopher’s self-made isolation – perhaps we’re even envious of him – as he abandons modern society as he knows it and uncovers breathtaking landscapes and uninhabited wilds. Emile Hirsch is wonderful adventuring through Christopher’s eyes, and the film seems to take pleasure in documenting Hirsch’s own voyage while keeping the focus of McCandless’s story in check. The cast and crew members of Into the Wild are all on this quest, and the film resembles a scrapbook of their travels, featuring vignettes of human encounters and random snippets of travelogue-esque footage too significant to be shared through plain postcards and photo albums.

There’s a particularly intriguing moment in Into the Wild, a shot that lasts no longer than one second, that is effective in turning the film on its head and dictates that its audience be more than stagnant viewers looking in from the outside.

The shot comes about forty minutes into the film with Christopher sitting on the side of the road, eating what he feels is the best apple he has ever tasted – a “super” apple. At the end of this scene comprised of a short series of jump cuts, Editor Jay Lash Cassidy splices in a final quick shot of Christopher leaning in toward the camera, beaming us with a wide-eyed, apple-mouthful grin – essentially breaking the fourth wall and engaging the audience directly. Again, the shot is merely punctuation on the scene. It’s a playful, improvised moment, and one that shows how filmmakers, particularly editors, can find such magic in unscripted footage.

But, out of all the many wonderful moments in this film, this one-second piece of spontaneity speaks volumes on the language of cinema and how fine and gray the line can be between the audience acting as voyeur and participant.

Then again, is it really spontaneity if an editor chooses to place unscripted footage in a sequence of shots? The original footage captures an unprompted moment when Emile Hirsch playfully mugs for the camera. But after the cameras have stopped rolling, what appears in the final edit of the film is a conscious and deliberate decision on the part of the filmmakers. Thus, the shot of Christopher playing to the camera is deliberate in its final form, even if it originated through improvisation. If the shot is deliberate, then what is the filmmaker trying to say by using it? As Christopher briefly breaks the fourth wall and glances directly at the camera, the audience is no longer simply watching the events unfold. Christopher is no longer alone in his trek – he acknowledges the presence of the camera and invites the audience to interact with him.

The practice of breaking the fourth wall is by no means new. Jim Garrison (Kevin Costner) addresses the audience directly in the last sentence of his closing arguments in Oliver Stone’s JFK (1991). His line, “It’s up to you” is delivered with a stare straight into the camera and suggests a call to action on the part of the viewer.

The fourth wall is also broken for comedic purpose in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986), as Ferris (Matthew Broderick) gives a quick tutorial to the audience on how to trick parents into letting us stay home from school through fake fevers, theatrical coughs and manufactured sweaty palms.

The moment in Into the Wild is innocent enough, but when thinking about the syntax and semantics of cinema, even seemingly meaningless shots can change the viewer’s perspective of a film. In this case, the filmmakers have set out to establish a sense of loneliness and seclusion in Christopher’s surroundings, above all in his Alaskan wilderness. And yet, Christopher’s acknowledgement of the camera in this one moment suggests that he is, in fact, not alone. It by no means takes away from what is a thoroughly compelling film and a series of heartfelt events leading to an unfortunate conclusion. However, I can’t help but wonder why the filmmakers chose to leave that shot, the only shot in the film that breaks the fourth wall, in the final cut - causing a good deal of confusion with film geeks like me.

Into the Wild has a run time of two hours and twenty-seven minutes, and I’m thankful for that. It takes its time and tells the story it wants to tell, rather than being compelled to rush in an effort to fit in a few more screenings at the local cineplex. This is one of those films where you’ll want to relax with your favorite drink, pop up the recliner, and settle in for the long haul. Simply an amazing piece of cinema.

As you can see, Cinema Goulash has started including wine suggestions into the reviews, alternating them with our regular food pairings every so often, depending on my mood and recent adventures with the grape (you’ll see the wine bottle icon instead of the crock pot when these wine suggestions occur.) Wine, to me, is just as important as a good meal. Into the Wild was enjoyed with The Lackey, a 2005 Shiraz from Kilkanoon Wines of South Australia. The shiraz is, by far, my favorite, and this one is of particular interest. It is smoky and peppery, but not too spicy. With a vanilla aroma, it is smooth and fruity, with hints of plum and blackberry. It reminds me a lot of a favorite 2000 Heritage Cuvee from Curtis Winery that my wife and I enjoyed when we visited the winery in 2001, although The Lackey is missing the hot finish of the cuvee – and that’s okay. We discovered this treat in a wonderful wine and cheese shop called Abbey Cellars in Lincoln, New Hampshire. The shop owners were as friendly as they come and the small, specialty shop atmosphere invited us to spend some quality time browsing about the labels. A find for any wine lover.

Abbey Cellars is located at 78 Main Street in Lincoln, NH. They can be reached at 603-745-9463 and can be found on the web at www.abbeycellarsnh.com.

YEAR OF THE DOG (2007)

2008-02-13T05:51:00.000-05:00

Year of the Dog
Directed by Mike White
Grade: C+

Mike White, writer of The Good Girl (2002) and Chuck & Buck (2000), has a somewhat shaky directorial debut with Year of the Dog (which he also penned). The film starts out on the straight and narrow, offering up a rather innocent and heart-warming set-up to Peggy (nicely played by Molly Shannon) and her mundane interactions with her employer, her girl friend, her neurotic family and the one thing that brings stability and happiness to her life – her beagle, Pencil. From there, the film suffers from an identity crisis and, like our protagonist, desperately searches to define itself.

At the outset, the simplicity of Year of the Dog could have really made for a delightful film. It certainly has a charming start. We are introduced to a middle-aged woman who has been pigeonholed as the ear to everyone else’s problems and the provider of ego-boosting optimism. She is the fortune cookie to their MSG-laced Szechuan Chicken. Peggy’s problems apparently are no match for relationship gossip, workplace politics and scandals involving Benadryl-abusing nannies. White quickly encourages his audience to root for Peggy with the expectation that, through her misunderstood connection with dogs, she’ll one day get everyone to finally take a sincere interest in her life.

However, the film takes an odd U-turn, abandoning the minimalist conflict already in motion for a more convoluted story of a woman on a potentially self-destructive adventure in animal activism – her character arc triggered by a pet lover’s tragedy and her new friendship with fellow animal lover, Newt (Peter Sarsgaard). Of course, leave it to a man’s influence, albeit a celibate, effeminate man, to lead a woman down a path of an obsession mistaken for a purpose. Peggy is so desperate to define herself that her introduction to Newt’s world of veganism and animal rights presents an instant opportunity for her to cling onto something – anything – that will give her life meaning.

Had Year of the Dog been longer than 96 minutes, perhaps it would have allowed for ample time for Peggy to make a gradual, natural shift from simple dog owner to fanatical activist. Instead, her quick shift in character seems hasty and unbelievable.

Unfortunately, the film never comes full circle and the conflict laid out at the start is never really addressed again. White tries to convince us that the “new-and-improved” Peggy is right in leaving life as she knows it for a fresh and bold path, when, really, she is running from the underlying issue surrounding her relationships rather than being empowered by her self-discovery to confront it. Instead of calling out her employer, her best friend, and her family, she leaves everyone scratching their heads in her wake as she, essentially, flees.

What’s more, Paramount Vantage chose to promote Year of the Dog as a romantic comedy when, in fact, it is far from it. My wife, looking to rent a cute, Sunday afternoon chick flick featuring loveable dogs found herself ambushed by a bizarre animal rights message lacking any real romantic substance. That alone is enough to induce a wrath worth drowning in a healthy glass of Tito’s Vodka and vermouth. Nonetheless, here we have yet another example of how trailers and marketing material can easily pull the bait-and-switch on an audience.

One thing is for certain, Year of the Dog will provide you with sufficient fodder for discussion and dissection once the film has unspooled. Perhaps that discussion is, ultimately, what makes a seemingly bad film a seemingly decent film, after all?

While the wife was cozying up to a martini during the screening of Year of the Dog, I was being warmed by a pleasant 2006 Alamos Malbec. This soft, yet rich red wine has a distinct fruity nose, fruitier than I normally prefer, and was sweeter than expected (Update: After letting it breathe a spell, I found the sweetness had settled slightly.) But, its deep purple color and plum undertones offer up a sweet start with a dry finish, making it an enjoyable alternative to my usual cabs and merlots. Not on any of my top ten lists, but certainly recommended as a nice introduction to Argentina’s premier grape.

Roy Scheider (1932-2008)

2008-02-11T05:55:00.000-05:00

Actor Roy Scheider died on Sunday, February 10 at the University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences hospital in Little Rock. The hospital did not release a cause of death, although it was reported that Scheider had been treated for multiple myeloma at the hospital’s Myeloma Institute for Research and Therapy for the past two years.

Scheider received two Oscar nominations, for best-supporting actor in The French Connection (1971) in which he played Det. Buddy Russo, the police partner of Oscar winner Gene Hackman, and for best-actor for All That Jazz (1979), the autobiographical Bob Fosse film.

However, he was best known for his role as Police Chief Martin Brody in Steven Spielberg’s 1975 film, Jaws

I’m confident St. Peter has looked down from the gates of Heaven and declared, “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

R.I.P.

Nickel List #5: I’m a gunslinger and proud of it!

2008-02-10T05:57:00.000-05:00

The Goulash has been moseying around the house like a swaggering gunslinger this weekend after taking in a viewing of the 2007 remake of 3:10 to Yuma. I love a good western. And, as much as I enjoy Russell Crowe putting on his most villainous game face and Christian Bale acting more morose than ever, I think my fancy with the western genre really comes from those unsung show stealers – the second tier – the henchman and the wannabes. You know – the you-had-it-comin’ characters.

This time around, I’m serving up five of my favorite secondary scumbags from various westerns.

In no particular order:

1. Charlie Prince (Ben Foster) from 3:10 to Yuma (2007)

Ben Foster’s portrayal of the loyal Charlie Prince is one for the books. His devotion to Ben Wade (Russell Crowe) treads a fine line between committed and dutiful surrogate son and merciless protector. Charlie harbors an unspoken love for Wade which drives him to shoot faster, kill meaner, and see the world through darker eyes than the rest – all his traits seeking the approval of his mentor. Charlie Prince is a wicked, spot-on character that invites you to cheer for the bad guy and encourages you wish for his comeuppance at the same time.

2. Deputy Mather (Billy Drago) from Pale Rider (1985)

Deputy Mather, while only one of the six trench coat-donning deputies under the command of the villainous Stockburn (John Russell), is seemingly the most menacing. Billy Drago brings a soulless look to Mather’s face – hidden under the brim of his hat – making him stand out if only a little more than his brothers-in-arms. His demise ultimately lacks any fruitful satisfaction as he is merely picked off in typical Eastwood, one-by-one fashion. After all, Mather is just one of the gang. But there is something potentially wonderful lurking behind his eyes that makes you long for Mather to play a larger, more devilish role.

3. Hunt Bromley (Skip Homeier) from The Gunfighter (1950)

Hunt Bromley is the wannabe of this list. A hotshot and a bully, Bromley is one in a long line of young gunslingers who want to be known as the man who was faster than the infamous Jimmy Ringo (Gregory Peck). He struts his stuff, seeing the opportunity to make a name for himself when he learns that Ringo is actually in town. No matter how you slice it, Bromley is a snot-nosed punk, and we long for that showdown the minute we are introduced to him. The film is a tight and suspenseful as Jimmy Ringo’s ultimate worry is the gang of men on his trail – Bromley is just another fly thrown into the ointment. It is inevitable that, at some point, Bromely and Ringo will cross paths – and the outcome is a satisfying twist of dessert on an already fine dining experience.

4. Snaky (Jack Elam), Stony (Woody Strode) and Knuckles (Al Mulock) from Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)

Their appearance in this film is short-lived, but it translates into one of the most memorable opening sequences in cinema. The opening credits of Once Upon a Time in the West play over this quiet and lyrical scene where we find three of Frank’s (Henry Fonda) henchman waiting around at a desolate train station, ready to rendezvous with an inbound arrival. It is several minutes of pure genius, as we watch these three thugs occupy themselves - without a word of spoken dialogue throughout the majority of the scene. They wait for a nameless man only known as “Harmonica” (played by Charles Bronson and aptly named for the instrument which, when blown, foretells the impending doom of any character likely to hear its tune). Sergio Leone was a master of choreographing facial expressions with the tight close-up, and this opening scene is a playground of pure visual storytelling. The only dialogue at the end of the scene caps what becomes the trio’s delicious demise.

5. Johnny Ringo (Michael Biehn) from Tombstone (1993)

Overall, the film is remarkably silly, but Michael Biehn’s portrayal of psychotic killer Johnny Ringo is worth the viewing. He is the quintessential evil cowboy – the dark clothes, the dark grin, the dark respect for human life. It’s hard to tell at first who plays second fiddle to whom, as it seems Curly Bill Brocius (Powers Boothe) is the film’s primary antagonist. And yet, while Ringo hangs with Curly Bill, he ain’t nobody’s henchman and his pistol will be the first to tell you so.

If you can hang up your six-shooters for a spell, the Goulash is recommending some good old-fashioned Western Steak & Eggs with your cowboy cinema. There are a number of ways you can cook your steak and eggs – for the city folk, you’ll find a straight and narrow recipe at foodnetwork.com. Country folks looking for something a little more rugged can find a spicy steak recipe at the website for TABASCO®. Brew yourself a pot of black coffee and you’ll be in the mood to take on any posse.

HE DIED WITH A FELAFEL IN HIS HAND (2001)

2008-02-02T06:02:00.000-05:00

He Died with a Felafel in his Hand
Directed by Richard Lowenstein
Grade: C+

There are films that are quirky, and then there are films that set out to be quirky just for the sake of being quirky. He Died with a Felafel in His Hand is the latter, but that doesn’t mean it is any less enjoyable.

Pretentious and overwhelming at first glance, Richard Lowenstein’s dark and comic examination of housesharing in Eastern Australia, from the 1994 novel by John Birmingham, is laced with swift dialogue and a breadth of peculiar, neophilosophical banter – unfortunately, a trend in mainstream independent cinema over the last decade. However, does a talky film mean that it’s a bad film? Not necessarily.

There are lots of characters in the film, many of whom are off-center, and having so many usually means that there is less opportunity to become attached to any of them. When you’re finally called upon to care, you may find yourself lacking some of the emotional investment required to reap the rewards. And yet, in any other film, that lack of attachment would mean death to the story. In the case of He Died with a Felafel in His Hand, there’s something uniquely pleasurable in simply being a fly on the wall as we bounce from house to house, meeting flatmate after flatmate.

When there’s wall-to-wall dialogue in any film (music also underscores this film in almost every scene) the challenge is keeping up the visual interest. Andrew De Groot’s photography and Lowenstein’s background in commercials and music videos are up to the task, giving you something entertaining to look at while you’re busy sopping up pools of eccentric talk. Lowenstein is also the film’s editor and he maintains a decent pace and shot selection to keep us just this side of dull.

He Died with a Felafel in His Hand is an eclectic, edgy film worth digesting, if only once. As much as I was on the fence about not liking this film after having seen it initially, there was something about it that made it difficult for me to actually pull the trigger. My reluctance to put it to pasture has allowed the film to grow on me like a puppy with three legs – it has a hard time walking straight, but, dammit, it’s still loveable.

For your dining pleasure this evening, Cinema Goulash’s Favorite Falafel:

4 cups of chickpeas
2 beaten eggs
3 cloves of crushed garlic
½ cup of minced scallions
½ cup of minced celery
½ teaspoon of cumin
3 tbsp. of flour
A dash of black pepper and salt

Cook and mash your chickpeas. Combine all the other ingredients and chill well. Then make one and a half inch balls out of the batter. Lightly dust each one with flour and deep fry until golden brown in a two-inch pool of olive oil in a skillet heated to 365 degrees. Stuff the falafel in pita bread with cubed tomato, lettuce (or sprouts) and tahini sauce. To die for.

Nickel List #4: An 80s Revival

2008-01-26T06:05:00.000-05:00

I’m in the mood to revisit some of my favorite 80s films today, but it’s just not the same watching them on the TV. So, here’s a list of five films from the 80s I’d like to see revived on the big screen this weekend.

In no particular order:

1. The Ice Pirates (1984)

There’s a special place in my heart for this sophomoric, swashbuckling, sci-fi adventure. Robot pimps, castration machines, Angelica Huston wielding a bad-ass sword, and a desert vehicle with a huge skull as a hood ornament - can’t go wrong there.

2. Black Rain (1989)

Not necessarily the tour de force we’ve come to expect from Ridley Scott, but a pretty solid cop actioner, nonetheless. This was made back in the day when Michael Douglas had R-rated movies written into his contract. The Japan setting is very visual in and of itself, and with the help of cinematographer Jan de Bont (the 2.35 aspect ratio is gorgeous and put to good use) this film has eye-catching resemblances to Blade Runner (1982) in look and feel. Hans Zimmer’s score is a perfect fit. Andy Garcia is a bit of a weak link here, but Yusaku Matsuda makes up for it in strides. Nominated for two Oscars (Sound Effects Editing and Sound). A bit underrated, in my opinion.

3. The Dark Crystal (1982)

This is Jim Henson at his big screen best. Trevor Jones’s score has stuck with me since I first saw the film in 1982. I was ten when I saw this – and the opening credit sequence alone was enough to get me to save for a super 8mm camera and projector. Again, these are filmmakers who really know how to utilize anamorphic widescreen. Amazing execution of blending puppetry with cinema. This film is scary enough for the wee ones to appreciate it, yet entertaining enough to keep their interest. Disappeared from the scene for years, now you can find multiple DVD releases of The Dark Crystal. I think I saw three different packages – a standard DVD and two separate collector’s editions - at the same store recently!

4. Poltergeist (1982)

Or, “The film that Spielberg really directed”. There’s nothing like a good camera push-in on Dominique Dunne screaming “What’s happening?” Matthew F. Leonetti’s photography is fantastic and Richard Edlund’s visual effects are mind-blowing. Note to those who haven’t introduced their kids to Poltergeist: This is Spielberg under the influence. Can be great fun for the youngsters (I know I got that rollercoaster rush from it), but let’s just pretend that it’s really a strong PG-13 and not PG, okay? Poltergeist was originally rated R and re-rated, upon appeal, to PG just prior to its release in 1982. Interestingly enough, Amazon.com has the 25th Anniversary DVD release of Poltergeist listed with an R rating. The MPAA has it as PG.

5. Do the Right Thing (1989)

While Do the Right Thing certainly lacks the visual effects found in some of the other films on this list, Spike Lee’s 1989 film has nothing but big screen appeal. From the moment its opening credit sequence features Rosie Perez dancing to “Fight the Power”, there’s nothing that this film can’t do. Lee collaborates here with cinematographer Ernest Dickerson and gets intimate with the standard 1.85 aspect ratio, making everything larger than life while keeping it real. This deserves to be shown in a darkened theater – a TV just doesn’t do it justice - It’s the only way you can really become a part of this neighborhood. Bill Lee’s original score is wonderful.

Not far behind: TRON (1982), Enemy Mine (1985), and Excalibur (1981).

Feel like wearing your parachute pants or slipping on some leg warmers? Let me know what films you find “totally awesome”.

Nothing special on the menu today. The Goulash is resorting to an ordinary Large Tub of Popcorn and Medium Sprite – a traditional favorite of mine growing up in a cinema in a small, New England city. Saw Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986) seven times in the summer of 1986, and this fare usually accompanied me. When you’re talking about the bubble-gum and neon era of the eighties, you’ve just got to get back to the basic essentials of your youth.

CRASH (2005)

2008-01-25T06:11:00.000-05:00

[As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’m taking some of my past reviews from Yahoo! Movies and am reposting them here – as a way to archive them. Call ‘em leftovers…]

Crash
Directed by Paul Haggis
Grade: C-

Magnolia (1999) meets Grand Canyon (1991). That’s how my wife put it, and I couldn’t agree with her more. Crash, while littered with some very powerful moments, is fairly unoriginal when you compare it to the hype surrounding it as a breakout film. I added to my wife’s criticism by pointing out that the film’s score, by a typically successful Mark Isham, bears a huge resemblance to Cliff Martinez’s score from Traffic (2000). In fact, I’d hedge a bet that Martinez’s score was used as a temp track during the rough cuts of Crash.

The first fifteen minutes of the film are completely over-the-top, shoving the racism theme down our throats with every new character we meet. Director Paul Haggis obviously feels that you cannot meet a single person in Los Angeles who is not in some way bigoted or connected in some way with another bigot. Hmm… Are all Angelenos in need of tolerance education? I lived in Los Angeles for a few years and actually found myself taking public transportation regularly for two of them. Haggis is correct in his representation of the ethnic microcosm that exists on an L.A. city bus. Personally, I found it a refreshing and enlightening experience, having come from New England, where ethnic diversity consists of the Thai restaurant down on Main Street.

According to Haggis, there are some angry, angry people in Los Angeles. Sure, I met my share of them. But, Haggis takes the most extreme elements and packages them into its own unrealistic microcosm. Ultimately, the message is certainly a downer: it takes tragedy for people to realize the erring of their racist ways.

The film may have worked a little better had it not resorted to introducing so many characters. I felt as if I never really had the chance to get to know a single character and that I was asked to care about all of them. The film also relied upon coincidence and chance – far-fetched, in numerous instances. Haggis’ characters connect with one another in ways that can only be done in a small, New England town. Not Los Angeles.

I didn’t hate this film entirely. But I do feel it’s highly overrated. There were some unnecessary characters that cluttered the story rather than moving it forward. The problem with ensemble pieces like Crash is that just when we’re getting involved in one character’s story, we suddenly move to another and bounce between multiple threads too quickly. There’s no opportunity to become emotionally involved in the characters.

If you haven’t seen Magnolia, Grand Canyon or Traffic, then see Crash first. You won’t be distracted by what I feel are the film’s influences. Even so, for all of its promise, Crash felt muddled and unsatisfying when all was said and done. I have seen far worse films, I’ll admit, but I’ve also seen far better – certainly ones more worthy of a Best Picture nod.

Besides, my heart’s loyal to another film by the same name. If you have to choose between the two, check out David Cronenberg’s Crash (1996) instead.

All this talk about Los Angeles has made me hungry. Back in L.A., my wife and I had our first date at The Stinking Rose, a unique restaurant specializing in "contemporary California-Italian cuisine prepared and adorned with garlic." We here at Cinema Goulash love our garlic - and you can’t visit The Stinking Rose without sampling their 40 Clove Garlic Chicken. Delicious. They’ve even made the recipe available on their website - which I’ve taken the liberty of reposting here:

1 Tbsp. Butter
2 Tbsp. Extra Virgin Olive Oil
2-3 lbs. Roasting Chicken, washed and cut into pieces
To taste - Salt and Freshly Ground White Pepper
4 Tbsp. Fresh Rosemary
1 Cup Flour
40 Cloves Garlic, Peeled
1 Cup Dry White Wine
4 Cups Chicken Stock
1/2 Cup Heavy Cream

1. Heat butter and olive oil in a deep, heavy skillet.
2. Season the chicken with salt, pepper and rosemary. Toss in flour.
3. When the pan is hot, but not smoking, add the chicken, skin side down.
4. Sauté chicken until golden brown on both sides. Remove from pan.
5. Add garlic cloves and sauté until light brown.
6. Add white wine and chicken stock. Return chicken to pan.
7. Cover and simmer for 30 minutes.
8. Remove chicken and keep warm, turn heat to high and reduce liquid by 66%. Remove to blender, add cream and puree sauce. Adjust seasoning and serve over chicken.

If you’re a garlic lover like the Goulash, you’re really going to dig this dish. What’s more, you’ll get around Los Angeles (or wherever you are) Crash-free, as folks from any race are sure to steer clear of you. Whew!

The Stinking Rose is located at 55 N. La Cienega Blvd. in Beverly Hills. They can be reached at 310-652-7673 or on the web at www.thestinkingrose.com.

FLESH FOR FRANKENSTEIN (1973)

2008-01-21T14:07:00.000-05:00

Flesh for Frankenstein (aka Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein)
Directed by Paul Morrissey
Grade B- (probably for all the wrong reasons)

If you come away from Flesh for Frankenstein feeling genuinely violated or repulsed, then you probably deserve it.

One third horror, one third porn and one third a satire on both, this ass and gore fest takes a hold of Mary Shelley’s classic novel, Frankenstein and shakes loose random pages from which to adapt a screenplay of sorts, showcasing a breadth of stupefying dialogue (“To understand death, Otto, you have to f**k life in the gall bladder!”), a perverted plot and enough peculiar acting to make you go cross-eyed. The result is deliciously appalling.

Here’s the story: Baron Frankenstein - played by German actor Udo Kier - lives in an isolated castle with his horny wife (Yes!) - who is actually his sister (Doh!) - and their two freaky children (Ick!). One day, Baron Frankenstein creates an attractive female zombie, putting himself in a position where he must now create a sexually active mate for her. Enter the handsome farm hand who longs to be a monk (Huh?). Now, a friend of the farm hand, in an effort to keep our hero from entering into a life of celibacy, takes the monk-to-be to a bordello, hoping that some T&A might bring him back to his senses (Okay…).

Now, wait – we’ve obviously strayed a bit from Shelley’s original story.

By a stroke of luck, and a case of mistaken identity, Baron Frankenstein spots our young hero leaving the brothel and instantly assumes that, by visiting places of ill repute, he is a ladies’ man. What’s more, the Baron is strangely enamored by the farm hand’s perfect nose (Say what?). From there, the Baron chops off the head of the farm hand with a pair of gardening shears (Cool!), slaps the head onto his monster’s body and brings it to life, with the hopes that his two creations will have non-stop sex (Amen!).

The only problem: The monsters are not exactly attracted to each other (Doh!). Mass indulgence ensues.

The film is directed by Paul Morrissey, so you can bet that after sifting through the carnage and sexual overload, you’ll find a layer of social commentary. Morrissey has plenty to say about the world using sex to turn people into property, and he uses the excess to lay bare the outcome. At times, it is hard to tell whether the camp and lack of restraint of Flesh for Frankenstein is a product of Morrissey and his cast taking the subject matter too seriously, or if there is real genius behind the satire. The film is bizarre on so many levels, but if you can stomach it, you’ll at least wonder if it is really just another absurd horror movie, or if it is absurd by design.

I first saw this film back in the spring of 1999 at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art - in 3-D, no less (Kier was on hand for some Q&A.) The 3-D version of Flesh for Frankenstein is effective, although it’s not without its ridiculous shots (you can’t really fault Morrissey for that – even Hitchcock’s attempt at 3-D in Dial M for Murder appears forced and hokey, at best.) However, when it comes to Morrissey’s gluttony of gore, the 3-D process is put into overdrive. While you won’t be able to enjoy the 3-D experience of Flesh for Frankenstein on DVD, you will certainly appreciate its use through a multitude of extended close-ups of severed heads, hands, innards and other body parts.

Flesh for Frankenstein is an acquired taste. There is an abundance of gratuitous splatter and skin to go around. The original release of the film was rewarded with an X rating, so be warned. However, if you’re into avant-garde film of the seventies and have a secret passion for overacting German film stars, this one is required viewing.

Flesh for Frankenstein is available on DVD through The Criterion Collection. The DVD features a fully-restored original cut of the film in a widescreen transfer as well as audio commentary by Paul Morrissey, Udo Kier and film historian Maurice Yacowar. The DVD also has a stills gallery of publicity and production photos, featuring excerpts from the Claudio Gizzi musical score.

Since Flesh for Frankenstein offers up plenty of red meat diced and sliced in a number of delectable ways, Cinema Goulash thought it would be appropriate to serve up a vegetarian side dish. And, since the film is all about crafting creatures that are even better than the real thing, the Goulash is whipping up a Mock Tuna Salad – mashed chickpeas, pureed silken tofu, sunflower seeds, sweet pickle relish, spicy brown mustard – stuffed into a whole wheat pita with some sprouts and tomato. Tasty enough to make anyone start yelling, “It’s alive, it’s alive!”

Nickel List #3: My Daughter's MovioliOs

2008-01-19T13:55:00.000-05:00

This evening I’m tapping into my tot’s supply of kid-friendly quick meals and nuking a can of Campbell’s SpaghettiOs RavioliOs – O-shaped, meat-filled mini raviolis in a tasty meat sauce, with twelve grams of protein per serving and ten percent of the Daily Value for the essential mineral Iron (thanks to Campbell’s for the info on their website). Butter up a slice of Canadian white bread (as I would with American Chop Suey – see my “Hello, World” entry for more) and you’ve got the makings of a Saturday night yum fest.

Standing in the kitchen enjoying my bowl of processed goodness, occasionally checking on the score of the Clemson/Duke game and my daughter who is napping on the sofa, I start to think about films that would go great with pasta in a can: kids’ films, of course. I’ve introduced my daughter to the world of cinema, both in the theater and on DVD, and I thought it would be fitting to offer up some movies currently on her repeat-viewing list:

As usual, not in any particular order

1. The Little Mermaid (1989)

This one is my daughter’s “must-see” on nearly a daily basis. Although The Little Mermaid won two Oscars: one for Best Music, Original Score and the other for Best Music, Original Song (“Under the Sea”), Cinema Goulash feels both the score and the musical numbers lack the same strength and vivacity as Disney’s subsequent films. Furthermore, I can’t help but feel as if the producers of The Little Mermaid got bored with their subject matter fifty minutes into it and opted to hurry things up heading into the stretch.

2. Lady and the Tramp (1955)

More Disney fare for the wee one, but definitely one of the more charming of Walt’s animal pictures. Memorable moments abound. Produced back when Disney films actually looked like Disney films and there were familiar traits in the characters and animation. What’s more, this is the first Disney-animated feature in Cinemascope (2.55:1 aspect ratio) and it looks gorgeous.

3. The Polar Express (2004)

My daughter adores this film, as do I. The Polar Express will undoubtedly become traditional holiday viewing as it was screened several times in our living room over the course of the past Christmas season. The story, even Zemekis’s additions to the Chris Van Allsburg book, is delightful. The animation is brilliant - despite the characters suffering from “dead eye” syndrome. Alan Silvestri’s score is spot-on. My daughter begs me to run The Polar Express over and over, and I thank her every time I get sucked into it.

4. Ratatouille (2007)

Pixar Animation Studios in fine form. It’ll probably hold the interest of older yard apes and their parents more than the little ones. After all, 111 minutes can be an eternity for a preschooler. The Cinema Goulash tot was smitten with the novelty of talking rats for about twenty minutes or so and then quickly lost interest. But, she says she still likes the movie, just the same. Its flaw - it just feels long. Ratatouille has won numerous film critics awards and most recently has taken home a Golden Globe for Best Animated Film.

5. Happy Feet (2006)

The Cinema Goulash tot’s first foray into the movie-going experience. The penguins are cute. The action scenes can be frightening for the little ones. Preachy, preachy, preachy. Overt environmental message throughout; heavy-handed in the last twenty minutes. FYI: Here at Cinema Goulash we are environmentally-conscious. We care about the natural habitats of our world’s creatures. Just spare us the public service message disguised as a family film. Even Bless the Beasts & Children (1971) had more tact.

Got a film that makes you feel like a kid again? Let me know.

We Can Still Be Friends...

2008-01-18T13:46:00.000-05:00

Dear PG-13,

It’s over. We’re through.

I never meant for it to end this way, and I’m sorry.

I think it’s time we face the truth – let’s stop kidding ourselves – we’re just not compatible. You were once special to me. You meant something. You were edgy and sophisticated and I knew that when you were around you would add that extra spice to my life that PG couldn’t provide.

But now, frankly, you’ve become dull. You seem to have no respect for me anymore. I see you eyeing those teenagers when you think I’m not looking. I know how you get turned on by the way they react to you. They think you’re fresh or fly or rad or whatever they’re saying these days – you would know – you apparently speak their language. You’ll do anything to get them to watch you.

I don’t want to hurt you but I feel I need to be honest. I don’t know when you changed, or how, but you’re not the same. I feel betrayed. I feel cheated. I trusted you to be different and you sold yourself out. What’s worse, I don’t think you really know who you are anymore. You’re always hanging around with R – acting like him, speaking like him – there were times I honestly thought you wanted to be him.

You’ve been growing more violent and your mouth needs to be washed out with soap. You’ve been doing drugs and having sex and taking all your clothes off and I know it’s only because you’re jealous of R. You emulate R in every way.

But you’re not R. You’ll never be R. In fact, you’re embarrassing R. There was a time when it was okay for you just to be bigger than PG. You were PG with a kick. Now you’re just lukewarm R. You’re R lite. The problem is: R wants to be a film. You want to be a theme park ride.

I don’t think you have any idea what you’ve done. People are talking. Not only are they having a hard time telling you and R apart, now they’re thinking of adding a new R rating, a Hard-R rating. Fine, so you are having an identity crisis – there’s no need to take R with you.

When I think you’ve gone and done it all, there’s more. You’ve felt the need to jumble up horror films. For Pete’s sake, how do you screw up a genre? You’ve watered down horror so much for teenagers that now R has got to dig from the bottom of the barrel: demented mayhem, sadistic and brutal scenes of torture, grisly violence, gore and terror. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

Did you really think you could put your hands on the remake of Prom Night and I wouldn’t notice?

You’re not being true to yourself. Look at PG. She’s got a good self image going these days - we’re seeing more and more of her. She’s become flavor-of-the-month. Take a look around. Folks just like PG. You, on the other hand, are a bit of a mystery. You’re greedy, self-centered, and are always looking for a quick buck. You like seeing your name in print – doesn’t matter what it is. PG-13 here, PG-13 there. You’re homogenizing sincere and honest stories so you’ll fit a younger demographic. Your existence really has no meaning anymore. You think you’re all that and a bag of popcorn.

Anyway, I think we need a break from each other, if only for a little while. It’s time for me to be an adult. You should know that I’ve starting seeing R on a regular basis. Yes, I’ve even spent some time with NC-17. I like them. They treat me like a grown-up. You can have your teeny-boppers – I’m roaming with the mature bunch, now.

I’m sure we’ll see each other now and then, if only in passing. I’m not going to make any promises, but maybe we can spend more time together once you clean up your act. Go find your sense of purpose. Take a look at your history – where you came from – it’s all there. A little self-discovery would be good for you.

Until then, drop your key in the mailbox when you leave. I’m staying with Unrated until this blows over.

Nickel List #2: Overrated Films of the Past Decade

2008-01-14T13:41:00.000-05:00

They received a lot of hype. Heck, they may have even received awards. But, when it comes to the Cinema Goulash crock pot, these films may be overcooked.

This week, I’m blowing the lid on five films from the past decade that, in my honest opinion, are simply overrated.

Not in any particular order:

1. American Beauty (1999)

While it may look good in screenplay form, I’ve worked very hard over the years to actually like American Beauty. My efforts, however, have been in vain. Pretentious and showy, Sam Mendes’ suburban soap is a puffed up student film complete with teen angst, a story told in formulaic flashback, and plenty of shock value to keep the eyes rolling. The only saving grace: performances by Kevin Spacey, Annette Bening and Chris Cooper. This was a winner of a popularity contest.

2. Pay It Forward (2000)

This film’s appeal, I believe, lies in its optimistic message rather than the film itself. Fresh off of American Beauty and The Sixth Sense, Kevin Spacey and Haley Joel Osment are paired together in this Hollywood Flavor-of-the-Month showcase. Pay It Forward is of little value here save the preaching of the Golden Rule. The characters seem like they were developed by blindly picking traits out of a pickle jar. Of course, tragedy strikes. It’s one thing to care for characters for two hours and have genuine events unfold, good or bad. It’s another thing to try to care for characters for two hours only to feel genuinely ripped off by the ending.

3. Saving Private Ryan (1998)

Saving Private Ryan is a triumph on many levels, but where it lacks really hits the gut. The first thirty minutes are admittedly the most powerful minutes of cinema of the last decade. Being embedded with the 2nd Ranger Batallion as the soldiers storm Omaha Beach is as captivating as it is horrifying. After that, however, the film simply falls apart, lumbering along from checkpoint to checkpoint, littered with brief gun skirmishes and ghastly images of death and destruction. What’s more, I’ve just never gotten beyond the casting: Tom Hanks, Tom Sizemore and Jeremy Davies are on the level - but Burns, Goldberg, Ribisi, Diesel, Pepper and Damon bring a hot shot quality to the ensemble that just becomes annoying.

4. The Constant Gardener (2005)

Nominated for four Oscars and winning one (Actress in a Supporting Role – Rachel Weisz), The Constant Gardener was dizzying and shaky to the point of nausea. Yes, I was horrified and angered at the thought of pharmaceutical companies playing guinea pig with populations in Africa. The story intrigued me. Yet, sometimes filmmakers do a disservice by taking quality content and slapping style over the substance, thus hiding their message in a headache-inducing two-hour wave of seasickness. Let’s try using a tripod, next time. Potentially compelling film with promising performances – disappointing follow-through.

5. Cold Mountain (2003)

One hundred and fifty-four minutes of my life I’ll never get back. Nominated for seven Academy Awards, winning only one - deservedly so to Renee Zellweger for Actress in a Supporting Role (Sidenote: It was nice to watch someone in this film actually act). Nicole Kidman and Jude Law are completely and utterly wrong for their respective roles – but I suppose if Yankees can be cast to botch up British accents, it’s only right that a Brit and an Aussie are brought in to trash Southern dialect. Actors with no chemistry, indecipherable dialogue, predictable violence – all the makings of an Oscar-winning dogpile.

Got a film in mind that’s fallen prey to the buzz-building machine? Let me know.

SUNRISE: A SONG FOR TWO HUMANS (1927)

2008-01-13T13:33:00.000-05:00

Sunrise: A Song for Two Humans (aka Sunrise) 
Directed by F.W. Murnau
 Grade A+

What if you awakened this morning to find that all the movies at your local Cineplex had been replaced with films from the 1920s, 30s and 40s? Would you still take in that afternoon matinee? Would you bring your date to that evening show? Would you continue to be the avid movie-goer that you have always been? If not, why not?

Would it matter that the films now showing were not in color, or that they were not shot in widescreen? Would you be upset that the sound had not been optimized for a Dolby Digital Surround theatre, or that there were no computer-generated visual effects? What are the basic reasons why we go to the movies in the first place?

Every so often I discover a film that asks, and answers, that very question.

I have a list of films scribbled upon a piece of scrap paper and buried underneath a pile of bills on my desk - films that I have been longing to see, but throughout my life’s travels have never had the opportunity to screen. However, I consider myself very fortunate to have been able to view one of the films on that list just the other day: F.W. Murnau’s Sunrise: A Song for Two Humans (the shorter, more common title is simply, Sunrise).

Known already for his 1922 film, Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens, Murnau’s first Hollywood feature – for Fox Studios, no less – tells the story of a farmer in an ambiguous, countryside vacationland plotting to murder his adoring wife at the urging of a refined, metropolitan femme fatale (known only as The Woman from the City) with whom he is having an affair.

Sunrise is influenced largely by Murnau’s background in German Expressionism, a style of filmmaking where symbolism and production design play a heavy role in adding to the mood, drawing out profound meaning in a film. Already, in this early age of cinema, there was a distinct difference between American and International filmmaking. Murnau’s signature, although somewhat tamed for Fox Studios, is still present as he sets the tone of Sunrise through the use of double exposures, composite shots and even miniatures. His sets are elaborate and deeply layered, expressing far more than just what is necessary to tell the story (a minimalist approach taken by many American-made classics during the same period).

The film is inherently German, although shot in California, and is based upon Hermann Sudermann’s novella, Die Reise nach Tilsit. Unfortunately, had it not been for the sway of Fox Studios and Hollywood, this very German film could have taken another, and perhaps more successful, route in its third act. I’m not familiar with the original novella, but you can’t help but feel as if Murnau was itching to drop the hammer on an alternate ending, one with a more European finish, but perhaps was convinced by William Fox and the studio system to take the conventional path.

That said, Murnau naturally knows how to appeal to American audiences. Sunrise is both heavy in its drama and light-hearted in its humor. Murnau is skilled in balancing the two, creating a bit of a rollercoaster ride without needing the theme park. He provides you with enough information to guess, and fear, what might be imminent while at the same time comforting you with enough optimism to disregard it.

Today’s movie-going audiences may find the acting in Sunrise too melodramatic and over-the-top. However, the film’s power to captivate and entertain is timeless. Watch this film a second or third time, and you’re almost guaranteed to find more buried in Murnau’s exceptional use of light and shadow. As you view the film, pay particular attention to the musical score as it, in a number of instances, doubles as a voice for a few of the players.

It’s also interesting to see how Murnau’s expressionist background not only affects his set design and cinematography, but his title cards, as well. Generally, title cards are used to help the story along or to provide dialogue. Simple enough. Murnau, on the other hand, sets the mood of a scene by playing with the typography, itself. For instance, when The Woman from the City suggests that the farmer’s wife be drowned, the title card for her dialogue shows exactly what she means, with the on-screen text actually slipping away as if it were drowning in a pond. Murnau incorporates his title cards as part of the story, rather than the means to tell it. For me, it was a “wow” moment.

Sunrise has reminded this viewer that cinema, no matter how advanced and polished the elements of contemporary film have become, is still ultimately a visual medium. I strongly believe that an audience with an open mind can be just as engaged and entertained by a film from the Silent Era and Golden Age of Hollywood as they can by any film released today. If you are looking to rediscover the classics, Sunrise is a must see. Grab a piece of scrap paper and put it at the top of your list.

Long considered a “silent” film, Sunrise is actually accompanied by a musical score and select sound effects, and, interestingly enough, was released just days prior to Warner Brothers’ The Jazz Singer, the feature film credited for being the first “talkie” (although, discussion surrounding the historical inaccuracies of that claim will be saved for another time.)

Sunrise received three out of four Academy Awards including Best Actress in a Leading Role (Janet Gaynor), Best Cinematography (Charles Rosher and Karl Strauss) and Best Picture – Unique and Artistic Production (the only time this award was presented). It was also nominated for Best Art Direction.

Today, Cinema Goulash busts out the griddle and serves up some Eggs Benedict – poached eggs over thin slices of ham and grilled English muffin halves, topped with a creamy hollandaise sauce. What better way to start the day - a beautiful Sunrise, a great breakfast and a brilliant film about a traitorous husband.

It's Official. I'm a Film Geek.

2008-01-11T13:20:00.000-05:00

Open up today’s Concord Monitor and you’ll see a tasty, little nugget in the Entertainment section by Sarah M. Earle called “So you wanna be a film geek.” Kinda like an idiot’s guide to being a film buff. The article features a cocktail snack of great viewing/reading recommendations to whet the appetite of any beginning movie-goer looking to take their cinema cuisine to the next level. I’m happy to report that the author of this blog is featured in the piece, along with fellow Concord, New Hampshire movie gurus Barry Steelman and Stephen Ambra - and there was even a savory, little plug for CinemaGoulash.com (thanks, Sarah!)

Check out the article here.

Just one quick correction: the DVD that I’m quoted as recommending is actually titled Visions of Light: The Art of Cinematography. It can be hard to find in video stores, but you can order it online at Amazon.com or directly through the American Society of Cinematographers (where you’ll also find a wealth of resources on cinematography, naturally.)

GINGER & CINNAMON (2003)

2008-01-09T12:32:00.000-05:00

Dillo Con Parole Mie (USA: Ginger & Cinnamon)
 Directed by Daniele Luchetti 
Grade: B

[Note: I originally posted this brief review on Yahoo! Movies some time ago, but thought I’d revisit it, add some thoughts and re-post it here.]

It’s no secret that I’m a fan of foreign filmmaking, and the Italian-made film, Dillo Con Parole Mie (aka Ginger & Cinnamon), as mainstream as it seems, is another example of how international cinema continues to raise the bar above traditional films made via the Hollywood system and, dare I say it, the new American independent scene. However, I’ll save that commentary for another time.

Director Daniele Luchetti whisks us off to the lovely Greek island of Ios and sets up his take on a frequently-used premise of mistaken identity. However, this time the through line follows fifteen year old Megghy (Martina Merlino) and her quest to become deflowered on the romantic island. Yet, the real story here is Megghy’s 30 year old Aunt, Stefania (Stefania Montorsi), whom Megghy tricks into going on the vacation. While Megghy is desperately searching for love (more importantly, to get laid), Stefania is looking for a way to escape it, and she quickly discovers that when you point your finger at a broken relationship, three fingers are pointing back at you.

On the surface, plots involving mistaken identities are nothing new, but it is Luchetti’s delivery that gives Dillo Con Parole Mie its refreshing feel. Like any solid film, our characters evolve from their respective journeys and their shifts are genuine. Both women, one being half the age of the other, come to grips with their sexuality and it becomes evident that the old saying “age begets wisdom” is purely subjective.

Luchetti’s style is interesting. He daringly uses jump-cuts, surprisingly within stationary scenes of dialogue. Typically unheard of in American cinema, the cuts seem to piece the dialogue together, sometimes almost word by word. There were moments when I couldn’t tell if the cuts were removing empty space between sentences or even breaths, or if Luchetti was cutting in different takes of the same line of dialogue at given points to intentionally create a spotty, patchwork feel. Regardless, American filmmakers are accustomed to, even trained to use cutaways to get around such dialogue issues, to disguise the use of different takes or time compression and make the scene as seamless as possible. Luchetti, on the other hand, exploits it, bringing out the naturally disjointed way people actually speak. It can be distracting at first, but you soon sense Luchetti’s intentions, and his unconventional style is really a personal voice, something frequently lacking in American mainstream cinema today.

An enjoyable film, but let’s be honest, it’s an Italian chick flick. Still better than most.
Ginger & Cinnamon may be a little harder to find at your local video store. The film was released on DVD through Film Movement (www.filmmovement.com). They have a library of fantastic, eclectic films that are available through a subscription service. It’s a little pricier than your typical DVD clubs, but the films are a higher caliber of independent cinema and, unless you live in a larger metropolitan area, are rarely made accessible in local theaters. Well worth exploring. I’ll be sure to talk more about Film Movement later.

Although the film takes place on a Greek Island, Ginger & Cinnamon is a film from Italy. So, in thinking about an appropriate food pairing for this film, I wanted to recommend a dish I had not long ago at a local Italian restaurant. Don Giovanni’s is a wonderful spot hidden away at 11 Depot Street in Concord, New Hampshire. There you will find the most delectable Ravioli di Aragosta, a lobster ravioli with a cream tomato sauce laced with a touch of Pernod. I had it with Fagiolini con Pancetta (green beans, onions and pancetta). The portion size was just right and you can’t leave without trying one of their meatballs. Be sure to order one on the side. This will get you in the mood for light-hearted Italian fare like Ginger & Cinnamon. Don Giovanni’s typically takes reservations, but they were graciously able to accommodate us on short notice. They can be reached at 603-226-4723.

Nickel List #1: The New Hampshire Primary

2008-01-08T13:13:00.000-05:00

We’re off to the polls today for the New Hampshire Presidential Primary! It has been incredibly exciting here in the Granite State over the last few weeks – particularly yesterday, the last campaigning day before the primary. The energy throughout the state was amazing. As I looked out my office window in downtown Concord, I saw rallies on every corner, broadcast trucks monopolizing the parking spots, planes pulling banners in the skies above, and every candidate and news personality roaming the streets. Horns were honking, crowds were cheering - it was a regular festival atmosphere. It just makes you pause to take in the process and thank God you have the opportunity to be a part of it.

In the spirit of today’s New Hampshire Primary, I’m offering up a list of five films that pay tribute to American politics and, in my opinion, are choice viewing for a day like today.

In no particular order:

Have a favorite politically-themed film? Feel free to chime in.

My wife made an exceptional Turkey Burger Chili the other night, and I thought it would be a perfect meal to pair with the political scene. We’re talking turkey burger, tomatoes, kidney beans, chick peas, roasted red peppers, onion, garlic, some salsa, a splash of Bloody Mary mix, red wine and cumin. Served with white rice, this dish was spicy, meaty and certainly potent enough to provide enough gas and hot air to any candidate.

Hello World!

2008-01-07T12:41:00.000-05:00

Before we get started, how about an appetizer?

Let’s call it a “Declaration of Principles” (with apologies to Charles Foster Kane):

(1) I will feed the patrons of this blog with tasty commentary and opinion on a wide variety of topics covering cinema in an effort to engage myself and my readers in conversation, writing and critical thought about film (I work in film and I’ve found that the work has had the ability to take my sight off of the reasons why I fell in love with the cinema in the first place. This is, among other things, my attempt to rediscover my roots in film.)

(2) As I said, I work in film. My wife works in a restaurant. Naturally, two great tastes that taste great together. Having said that, I’ll also take pleasure in serving up film reviews, recommendations and (get this) suggested food pairings to accompany those reviews – as sometimes a bucket of popcorn simply isn’t enough. Look for the little crock pot icon for those suggestions.

About the name: you already know the ingredients (see above). What’s more, I have a weakness for American Chop Suey. At least, that’s what I’ve always called it. When I was a child, my grandmother, rest her soul, would stoke the wood fired stove and slop up a pot of piping hot comfort food that was both very simple and very satisfying. Elbow macaroni. Ground beef. Tomato paste. Chopped onion. Heat and stir together. Serve on an old china plate with a slice of white bread and margarine spread. My wife, the Midwestern girl, likes to add onto that dish by throwing a little bit of everything into the mix. She calls it Goulash.

I imagine this blog will be written with a similar recipe at heart. Thanks for visiting and be sure to come back for seconds.