A Fish Called Wanda (1988) **

Don’t call me stupid for not loving this 1988 comedy from director Charles Crichton (with an assist from John Cleese). Yes, it has some funny parts, but it is definitely a film I could have died without having seen (although some man in Denmark did laugh himself to death while watching it).  Perhaps it’s the decade in which it was made (the 80s) that makes it shine a little less brightly for me.  There is something about the hideous fashion and over-synthesized songs of that decade that really irks me, and when it is on full display, as it is here, it is even more distressing because it is forever imprinted (quite literally) in the annals of cinema that the 1980s sucked. 

Written by Crichton and Cleese, this comedy-heist film about four eccentric jewel thieves takes place in jolly old London.  The thieves are led by George (Tom Georgeson), a cockney gangster who picks three of the worst criminals in the world to help him pull the job: Wanda, Otto, and Ken.  His girlfriend Wanda (Jamie Lee Curtis) is a complete slut and an even bigger liar. Otto (Kevin Kline) is a pseudo-philosopher and an outright psychopath who pretends to be Wanda’s brother, but is really her jealous lover.  And, then there is Ken (Michael Palin)—a stammering animal lover with absolutely no sense.  When the heist goes awry and George is arrested, the other three scramble to tie up loose ends and engage in wacky acts of betrayal.  In the middle of all this treachery is Archie Leach (Cleese), the barrister working on George’s case who becomes ensnared in Wanda’s sleazy web of lies.  And, no, it is not a coincidence that Cleese chose to name himself after Cary Grant (the real Archie Leach)—he was born 20 miles from Grant’s birthplace and greatly admired him. 

Obviously 1988 was a weak year for the Academy Awards, specifically in the Best Supporting Actor category, because Kline won an Oscar for his turn as Otto.  To me, watching him in this was like taking a class in overacting. If anyone in the movie deserved an Oscar nod it was Palin, and even that would have been a stretch.  Of course his scenes attempting to kill Mrs. Coady (Patricia Hayes) are my favorite, so I think that might skew my point of view.  But really, he is quite hilarious as the murderer of three innocent Yorkshire Terriers.  And, when I come to think of it, the only time I found Kline entertaining was when he was doing a scene with Palin.

The story is entertaining and Cleese’s straight-man act is enjoyable, so I can’t really give A Fish Called Wanda a poor rating. Still, Kline and Curtis’ less than stellar performances are grating to me.  Yet, the wardrobe and music are worse.  Costume designer Hazel Pethig definitely did not benefit from what passed for fashionable in the 80s.  I wonder how much Curtis cringes every time she sees how horrid her wardrobe was.  Oh, and the music (if you can call it that) by John Du Prez is a complete representation of what was wrong about 80s music.

Overall, A Fish Called Wanda is a passable 1980s comedy.  Unfortunately, to watch it you must hear and see everything that makes the decade one of the worst of the Twentieth Century.

 

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The Phantom of the Opera (1925) **

What is the price of fame? According to this 1925 silent classic staring Lon Chaney a deal with the devil…no, no, no that’s Faust; I mean a creepy Phantom. Please excuse my mistake; it was an easy one to make seeing as the opera performed in this film is Faust. Coincidence? I think not.

Christine (Mary Philbin), the understudy to the prima donna, has a mysterious voice coach who first communicates to her through the walls and then later in a face to mask meeting that she will be the star of the show, but only if she gives everything up but him and the opera. No, she’s not a schizophrenic, just so hell-bent on being a diva that she’ll do just about anything to get ahead—think Mariah Carey in the Tommy Mottola years. He causes all kinds of mischief to ensure this—threatening notes to the lackluster prima donna and dropping a chandelier on the audience to end a performance. Christine’s very annoying boyfriend, Raoul, wants her to give it all up and marry him, and since she is starting to get weirded out by the Phantom she agrees. This makes the Phantom jealous and so he kidnaps Christine and takes her to his man-cave. Instead of seeing posters of his favorite team and his collection of shot glasses, she sees his hideous skullface. To emphasize how shocking his face was the camera actually went out of focus. Eventually, Christine is rescued and the Phantom is chased by an angry mob to his drowning death in the Seine.

This film is ultra-melodramatic, but it is watchable due to the creepiness of Lon Chaney’s Phantom and the great set designs. The underground tunnel scenes are the best, with the unmasking of the Phantom and Raoul’s near-death experience in a torture room where the heat is unbearable (see Hell and Faust), Personally, I wished he had used the provided noose. But I digress. Anyway, the music is eerie and Lon Chaney is stellar. A good watch in October.

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Zero Kelvin (Kjærlighetens kjøtere) 1995 **

Set amidst the artic elements of Greenland, this Norwegian film from director Hans Petter Moland examines the effects of isolation and brutality on the human psyche.  Beautifully photographed by Philip Øgaard, Zero Kelvin (1995) is predominately a psychological thriller without the usual histrionics associated with the genre. While it is interesting to watch the volatile relationship between the two major characters, the film does drag in a few places, which hampers my overall appreciation of it.

Henrik Larsen (Gard B. Eidsvold) makes a fateful decision when he signs on with the Greenland Company as an animal trapper. Commissioned to write a book about the life of outdoorsmen, the Norwegian gentleman poet is thrown completely out of his element when he finds himself working for a crude, alcoholic foreman named Randbæk (Stellan Skarsgård).  The men are polar opposites, coming from two very different social classes and intellectual levels, and they immediately clash.  The only thing that stands between them killing one another is the pleasant camp naturalist, Jakob Holm (Bjørn Sundquist). When the two rival’s incessant and violent bickering becomes even too much for the peaceful Holm he deserts the camp and leaves the two men to their deathly feud.  It is at this point that the film takes an even darker turn, as Larsen is forced into a duel of survival on the artic terrain against a menacingly cruel Randbæk.

One of the most recognizable Swedish actors of his generation, and known throughout all of cinema as a prolific and versatile actor, Skarsgård plays Randbæk as a deplorably reprehensible character. He seethes with antagonism and almost every word he says drips with venom.  You can’t help but hate Randbæk and feel sympathetically towards Larsen. From his constant belittling and taunting of Larsen to his extreme cruelty exacted on the sled dogs, you find yourself hoping that he ends up dying painfully slow.  I usually don’t completely despise a character, but with Randbæk I had no choice. Skarsgård has said of the role that he “could see from the outset that it was a rewarding character to play because there were absolutely no limits to what he could do. It's one of the most delicious parts I've ever played. I've never been such a bastard before." That’s more than an apt description of Randbæk—he is a complete bastard. 

Perhaps it was the icy, artic air that contributed to how mean Skarsgård made Randbæk appear, because the crisp, austere images captured by cinematographer Øgaard would lead one to believe that only a certain type of person could survive in such an environment.  Working above the Arctic Circle in Svalbard, Norway, Øgaard adeptly uses the setting’s natural elements of ice, snow, and wind to create a vast, desolate wasteland which compounds both the characters’ and viewer’s sense of isolation. With his photography he creates a completely punishing atmosphere for an equally punishing story.

However, my biggest complaint with Zero Kelvin stems from Øgaard’s cinematography: the film sometimes drags because so much time is spent looking at the harsh terrain.  I think Moland and his editor, Einar Egeland, could have slightly cut some of the environment shots to keep the story’s pace a bit more engaging.  Yes, Øgaard’s images deserve to be admired for their beauty, but a good director knows when enough is enough.

Overall, Zero Kelvin is a somewhat engrossing psychological thriller with engaging cinematography, but it is not a film that I would categorize as must-see.

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2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) *1/2

No, I don’t like Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968).  I’m sure I have offended countless sci-fi fans and cinephiles, but I don’t care because I find the film beyond boring. Yes, there are several interesting visual images, and for 1968, at the height of the Space Race, it was ahead of its time, but that doesn’t mean I have to revere it or recognize its perceived “greatness”.  The only thing I do like about it is the music—and even that contributes to the overall tedious effect the movie has on me.  If you fall asleep every time you watch something I think that sends a clear message. 

Based on sci-fi author and futurist Arthur C. Clarke’s short story “The Sentinel”, 2001: A Space Odyssey is a plodding look at humankind’s relationship with the universe.  There is a monolith that keeps popping up: on Earth at the dawn of man, on the moon, and on Jupiter.  I expect all of these “sightings” are supposed to be tied together, but having not read Clarke’s series I have no idea how, as the film gave me no conclusive answer. I’m a historian by trade, but I minored in philosophy, so I kept asking myself if Kubrick chose to open and close his movie with Richard Strauss’ “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” because he was trying to make some sort of nihilistic statement about Nietzsche’s concept of eternal recurrence and the Übermensch. I suspect this is the case.  Okay, I somewhat understand what he was doing, but what about the average person on the street who never read Nietzsche or Clarke, do they get it?  Probably not, but I don’t think Kubrick cared, either. 

I have been told that people liked to drop LSD and then go watch this—I can see that.  There is an abundance of vast spatial dissonance and towards the end there is a plethora of psychedelic images, so I understand how this might appeal to Dead Heads.  For me, these images did one of two things: made me sleepy and/or gave me a headache. I’m not a special effects geek, and so while it is obvious that Kubrick and his crew were way ahead of their time, it does nothing for me.  Maybe I lack the ability to be awed by these endeavors because so much has been seen and discovered since this film was released.  Still, I can’t see how Pauline Kael wrote in 1968 that 2001: A Space Odyssey was "a monumentally unimaginative movie.” There is plenty of imagination, but, for me, that’s not enough to make me like it. 

Minimalism has its place, but too much of it in a film can leave viewers feeling completely detached.  That is the effect that 2001: A Space Odyssey has on me.  Sparse, minimal dialogue; sterile set designs; and, a complete denial of human pathos makes for bad cinema in my book.  To makes things worse, when Kubrick does attempt to make an emotional appeal he does so with the supercomputer HAL (voiced by Douglas Rain), who is represented as both creepy and evil.  Is Kubrick making a statement about emotions?  Is there no room in his future world-view for feelings, and if you do have them does that make you deficient and/or deviant?  For a humanist like myself, that is an unbearable bitter pill to swallow.

The one element of the film that I liked was the music. Kubrick wanted to create a non-verbal experience, and you will notice that he uses music throughout the film except in the rare cases where there is actual dialogue.  While he bookends his movie with Strauss’ “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”, he also creatively uses Johann Strauss’ “On the Blue Danube” and György Ligeti’s Requiem.  Still, even though I found Kubrick’s musical choices inspired, I also think they contribute to my desire to fall asleep every time I watch his movie. 

Overall, I don’t dig this film.  To me, it is boring and lacks any emotional appeal.  Yes, there are a number of enticing visuals, but that just isn’t enough for me. Plus, the creepy baby at the end gives me nightmares.

 

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