Le Cercle Rouge

Inspired by the guys over at filmspotting, and after my favorable experience with The Killing, I didn’t hesitate a second when, returning the latter, I saw the DVD-rental place also had Le Cercle Rouge (I didn’t see Rififi, however). After all, Adam and Matty loved it. Alexander recommended it. And well, I never mind gawking at Alain Delon for an hour or two, especially not after a hellish day at work (which it was).

Watching Movies with my dad pt. 4

The movie: Vanishing Point (Richard C. Serafian, 1971) (UK version)

The pitchable element: my dad liked Death Proof quite a bit. Death Proof references this movie twice.

The length: 105 minutes (though it felt like more)

The verdict: well, they can’t all be winners, can they? Granted, it got slightly more interesting after we looked at each other one hour in and said “this is bad, huh?”, but not by that much. I knew this movie was about one guy driving a long way in a white Dodge Challenger. What I didn’t know was that there would be so little else, and that any possible subtext you might be able to find is voiced aloud, in the most corny way possible, several times.

I mean, the dialogue is just bad. Bad bad. And the acting? Charlotte Rampling shows up for about five minutes, and I know she can act, but she’s saddled with such terrible dialogue that you can hardly blame her for not sounding convinced, herself. The other actors don’t even seem to try. And the movie commits the worst sin a bad movie can commit: it’s boring. And just in case that doesn’t make an impression: know that I’m not easily bored. I was fascinated, mesmerized by Gerry, in which far less happened. But the movie’s too scattershot to be hypnotic, and rarely bad in an entertaining way.

Was there nothing at all I liked? Well… some of the chase scenes were, admittedly, pretty cool, and felt marvelously grounded and real compared to today’s CGI-riddled action. Though he’s kind of a poor man’s Elliott Gould, Barry Newman’s face is all kinds of fascinating. And while it’s incredibly dated by now, there’s no doubt that Vanishing Point influenced quite a few (better) movies: Death Proof is the obvious example, but the DJ-conceit from Reservoir Dogs seems cribbed from the diegetic use of radio here as well, and Thelma and Louise has clear echoes of it.

Luckily, my mom’s coming over tomorrow, and because I’ve been introducing her to Tarantino, Death Proof is on the menu. The chase involving that particular Dodge Challenger is one I could watch over and over again.

Watching Movies with My Dad pt. 3

The movie: Annie Hall (Woody Allen, 1977)

The pitchable element: no need for one. My dad saw this in the cinema when it came out, loved it, and hadn’t seen it since.

The length: 93 minutes including credits

The verdict: comedies should not be watched alone. As to any rule, there are of course exceptions, but my -purely anecdotal- evidence is this: I liked Annie Hall the first time I watched it, by myself. I liked it a lot, in fact, enough to buy it, and I thought it was very, very funny. But I don’t remember laughing out loud.

With my dad, however, I laughed out loud several times, even at the most predictable jokes (like Alvy sneezing the coke away, for instance). Somehow, by myself, I could appreciate the humor but I wasn’t really able to ENJOY it. But now, watching it again, this time in good company, I enjoyed it immensely. The one-liners are funny, the tricks that break the fourth wall work, and Diane Keaton is glorious (why is she stuck in all these crappy rom-coms nowadays?)

That, and of course the following quote is probably one of the truest things anyone has ever said about relationships:

I thought of that old joke, y’know, the, this… this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, “Doc, uh, my brother’s crazy; he thinks he’s a chicken.” And, uh, the doctor says, “Well, why don’t you turn him in?” The guy says, “I would, but I need the eggs.” Well, I guess that’s pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y’know, they’re totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and… but, uh, I guess we keep goin’ through it because, uh, most of us… need the eggs. Alvy Singer

Watching movies with my dad

As you might know, I’m currently on something of a break in the south of France with my father. And well, the thing with my dad is: he likes movies, but he never feels like watching them. He’s rarely sorry when he does, but he often just doesn’t have the motivation. Especially not if their over an hour and a half. So for this trip, I assembled some movies that a) had a clear, pitchable element and b) weren’t too long. So far? 2 down. 5 to go.

First up: The Hunger (Tony Scott, 1983)

The pitchable element: a lesbian sex scene featuring one of his favorite actresses, Catherine Deneuve.

The length: 93 minutes

The verdict: What a strange film this is!