Movie Reviews: Date Archives
May 2004
To Kill A Mockingbird
by Robert Mulligan
In 2003, the American Film Institute released a list of the greatest film heroes of all time. And the name at the top of the list was one that, unfortunately, most modern moviegoers probably won’t recognize. No, it wasn’t Aragorn, or Neo, or Jack Sparrow, or any other big budget action star. It was To Kill A Mockingbird‘s Atticus Finch, the Southern lawyer who faces down racism and bigotry in his town while striving to keep it from affecting his two young children.
Watching this movie, I felt a great deal of sadness. Sadness because, in this day and age, we have noone like Gregory Peck gracing the silver screen. If you’ve never seen Peck, never heard that wonderfully rich voice of his, you are missing out on one of the great movie watching pleasures. The man embodies nobility and character in his film roles, and nowhere moreso than in his portrayal of Finch. At times, he doesn’t even seem mortal, but more like a monument, a towering demigod who rages against injustice. And then, as he interacts with and teaches his kids (most often by example), he’s the picture of humility and brokenness.
Most people would probably point to the film’s climactic courtroom scene, where Finch pleads with the jurors to do the right thing, as its finest moment, and that’s probably true. However, two other scenes also vy for my favor. The first is the opening credits, which are absolutely spellbinding in their beauty and otherworldliness. Within 5 seconds, I was transfixed and knew this would be a special film.
The second is when Finch’s children, Jem and Scout (the child actors in these roles are just wonderful, especially the young girl who plays Scout), join him on the steps of the jail as he faces down an angry crowd intent on lynching the young black man Finch is defending. As tensions grow and the situation becomes uglier, Scout responds with childlike wisdom and innocence. Looking back, it’s probably one of the greatest cinematic displays of a soft answer turning away wrath I’ve ever seen.
A Man For All Seasons
by Fred Zinnemann
On one of the forums I frequent, a topic popped up about the greatest male role models in film history. One reponse in particular caught my eye concerning this film, which retells the story of Sir Thomas More, an advisor to King Henry VIII. When Henry’s wife is unable to produce a male heir, he seeks a divorce to remarry. The Pope refuses to grant his approval, so Henry rebels against the Church, setting up a national church that he can control. More, one of the king’s most trusted advisors, opposes Henry’s move and withdraws from service, hoping his silence will keep him and his family safe—only to get arrested on trumped up charges.
The part of the original post that caught my eye was this, that More was “a man who loved his king, his country, his wife and daughter, his Church, and his God, more or less in that order, from least to greatest.” You see this played out time and again in this wonderful movie, as More constantly struggles to reconcile his many duties and responsibilities.
It’s clear that More loves his king and country—even while under threat of arrest, he forbids others from speaking ill of the king, and of the laws of the land—and yet he knows his allegiance ultimately belongs to a higher authority. And More’s scenes with his wife and daughter are quite moving, especially when he embraces his wife for the last time in his prison cell. His wife, worn down by the stress of her husband’s imprisonment, lashes out at him and his high ideals, to which More takes her in his arms and proclaims, with wonder, “I married a lionness!”.
The movie’s dialog is some of the richest I’ve heard in a long time, the performances are excellent (Paul Scofield is wonderful as the noble yet tortured More, and as Henry VIII, Robert Shaw roars and rampages like a lion), the sets and landscape are all gorgeous, and even though there’s not a lick of action, More finally confronting his accusers in the courtroom is as great a final showdown as you’ll ever see.
This film hits me on another level as well, as I look at my reactions to the U.S. government. In the past, I’ve been pretty vocal about my disagreements and disgust with the current administration. Like More, I think they have often acted in a very unconscionable manner, especially in the past few weeks. Like More, I also have to realize that they are my leaders, that for some reason, they have been granted authority, which I must respect at the very least. And yet, I also must realize that my allegiance doesn’t ultimately end with the American flag, but belongs to something much higher, and it is to that authority that I will be ultimately held accountable.
A Man Who Went To Mars
by
Just so you know, this film is not 174 minutes long, like it says on the DVD packaging (and HKFlix’ details page). In fact, it only runs 105 minutes, well shy of being a 3 hour epic. However, after watching the film, I sort of found myself wishing it had been 174 minutes long. Not because I’m a huge fan of 3 hour epics, or a tremendously huge fan of sappy Korean melodrama (something this movie has in spades), but because I found myself thinking that, with a longer running time, perhaps something more substantial might have taken place.
Right from the start, the film’s premise is ripe for that sappy melodrama I mentioned earlier. In a remote country town, Seung-Jae and So-Hee have been best friends, ever since So-Hee’s father died when she was a little girl. Believing that her father is waiting for her on Mars, So-hee writes him constantly. Feeling sorry for her, Seung-Jae convinces the local mailman to give him all of So-Hee’s letters so that he write back, pretending to be her dad.
While at first it seems like a cruel joke, it becomes obvious that Seung-Jae has a bit of a crush, always taking care of So-Hee and defending her. But when So-Hee’s grandmother gets too old to take care of her, her aunt comes and takes her off to the big city, leaving Seung-Jae to pine away for her.
Stoked: The Rise And Fall Of Gator
by
I was never big into skateboarding, but I have friends who were. However, you don’t have to be a skater to get into Stoked, a documentary chronicling the rise and fall of Mark “Gator” Rogowski. In the early 80s, before skateboarding became an “extreme” sport and Tony Hawk’s visage graced everything from video games to Mountain Dew commercials, Rogowski was one of the sport’s first true superstars.
Kids adored him and companies, eager to cash in on his popularity, sent a flood of endorsements his way. Not surprisingly, the fame and fortune went directly to Rogowski’s head, resulting in a serious “rock star” complex, i.e. self-destrutive lifestyle and the requisite behavior (many of Rogowski’s antics seem like direct precursors to the likes of “Jackass”).
However, as the 90s rolled around, skateboarding underwent some major changes. The style of skateboarding that Rogowski had made famous was no longer en vogue, and Rogowski’s fame began to crumble around him. Unable to deal with his slipping fortune, Rogowski became even more self-destructive, even lashing out his fans, friends, and loved ones. Hitting rock bottom, he finally found salvation and became a born again Christian.