Reviews

In some film portraits of famous people, it can be common for filmmakers to not directly focus on the prominent historical figure, but to have a side character (sometimes fictional) tell the story from their point of view. Sometimes this is done because the celebrity at the film's focus might be so larger than life that it is too difficult to tell their story their way. The side character becomes an extension of the audience, a way for them to get inside the world of the film and let them into the private lives of public people. Think about the 2006 film "The Last King of Scotland" about Idi Amin, only told through the perspective of his fictional Scottish doctor. But in the case of Roger Michell's "Hyde Park on Hudson", it might be because the filmmakers are not sure what story they really want to tell.

We start the movie with narration from Daisy, a distant cousin of FDR who begins an implied affair with the leader of the free world in the spring of 1939 while the President stays at his mother's home in upstate New York, the title of the picture. Practically all of the film's problems stem from this character. There are some schools of thought that say narration in a film is the easy way out. I think it can be used quite creatively, but in "Hyde Park on Hudson", it feels too much like it's filling in the expository details that the script couldn't manage.

While this relationship might have some historical fact to it, it really doesn't warrant a feature length film. What's worse is that they got a great actress in the form of Laura Linney to play such a thankless and empty role. And it's the main character! There are some humanizing touches that reveal how she is caught in between two worlds, but the filmmakers would have been wiser to focus on another aspect to tell the story.

The film never feels like it starts until the King and Queen of England are introduced. They come to visit the President at his home away from the White House to confirm that they are in fact allies right before Europe goes up in flames. Played by Samuel West and Olivia Colman respectively, they add some of the films funniest moments as well as dramatic. History buffs will be disappointed after a little research to learn that this film and what it depicts are mostly a work of fiction, a historical chamber piece that takes great liberties for the sake of entertainment. However, the most enjoyable moments come from watching the King and Queen's fish out of water take on their American hosts.

I haven't even mentioned Bill Murray's performance as President Roosevelt, the film's saving grace and perhaps the best thing about it. Because of the confused script, Murray only has about one scene of meaty dialogue and a chance to showcase his acting. It is a late night drink between the two world leaders where they exchange vulnerabilities that is the heart of the film. Murray's witty sensibilities as an actor work well with the laid back depiction of FDR. Whether he is arguing with the women in his life or mentally messing with his Royal guests, he is brilliant.

So what we end up with is a missed opportunity. We have a film that doesn't really know what it wants to say, and thus ends up feeling like two different movies, one very good and the other meandering. Still, the whole thing is a harmless (and short) affair, and worth seeing if you are a fan of Bill Murray.

Perhaps the greatest treat that can be found in Clint Eastwood's 1990 film "White Hunter Black Heart", a fictionalized account of the pre-production phase of the 1951 classic "The African Queen", is Eastwood's leading performance. His trademark acting style is usually stereotyped as the tough guy persona; he squints a lot and speaks only when he has to. An act of violence would usually suffice instead. But here we have Eastwood in rare form, showing us a side that we seldom see in his movies.

The film opens with a man riding quickly on horseback over a British estate, his face obscured by a riding helmet. We are given some brief narration by Pete Verrill (played by Jeff Fahey and based on screenwriter Peter Viertel), who is flying in to see this masked rider. Verrill is the extension of the audience; he is our eyes and ears as he works alongside Eastwood's character to develop the film that would be known as "The African Queen". Eastwood plays John Wilson, a thinly disguised version of iconic director/actor John Huston. Introducing his character on horseback is a way we've come to recognize Eastwood in films, but the way he acts for the rest of the picture is anything but what we would normally expect from him.

Wilson, despite staying at his friend's estate, is down and out and deeply in debt. Verrill is here to get the creative wheels flowing again, helping to finish the script for "The African Trader" (the name given to the film within the film), however Wilson only seems interested in going to Africa to hunt elephants; the picture is more of an afterthought. Viertel wrote the book this film was based on, which in turn was based on his experiences with Huston while making "The African Queen". Viertel also had a hand in the screenplay for this film.

Now that I've gotten some of the plot out of the way, let me get back to Eastwood's performance. He nails Huston's distinctive speech pattern and way of presenting himself. It is a rare sight to see Eastwood play such a flamboyant character, a suave and sophisticated gentleman who whips people into shape with long monologues and anecdotes instead of his fists, with one exception that also plays against audience expectations. I honestly can't think of another film where he has so much dialogue.

Despite this spectacular leading performance, the film is flawed by its overall ambition. It is as if Eastwood the director, after the acclaim of his previous biopic "Bird", had finally decided that he was an auteur. You have a film that wants to take on the creative process, a look behind the scenes, and show how one man's genius can be undermined by his selfishness and obsession. There is also some "Moby Dick" inspired stuff with the hunting of the elephant being about something more profound and enlightening. All of these themes don't exactly click together as they should, but the journey getting there is enough.

What you are left with is an underrated character study. As usual with his period pieces, the attention to detail of both time and place is exquisite. And like most of his films, the movie builds to a climactic showdown, with an ending and closing moment that are among the best of Eastwood's entire filmography.

What was it about the 1980s and films sets in boot camp? That is what I kept wondering to myself while watching Clint Eastwood's effort in the sub-genre "Heartbreak Ridge". I also wondered how much there really is to say about a pretty average film that doesn't attempt to say anything at all. Let us find out!

The opening credits feature military archive footage in black and white that slowly take us to a holding cell in the summer of 1983, featuring a jailed Eastwood telling stories to the other inmates about his time in the Marine Corp. It is during this sequence that the photography turns to color, and we to a present day mindset where Eastwood's Sgt. Highway is a washed up has been. The film's title is a reference to the military campaign during the Korean War where Highway tells one character he went to college, but as we find out later, is where he earned the Medal of Honor.

"Heartbreak Ridge" might be the first film where Eastwood acknowledges his age. Speaking in a gruffer snarl than we have heard from him in previous films, he seems to be settling into the 'wise old grump' personality that he would continue to develop for the rest of his career. Eastwood feels older than ever as he attempts to whip some ridiculously insubordinate Marines into shape before the invasion of Grenada, especially when he says to one of them, "Shut your face, hippie!"

The main problem with the film is that we spend too much time with Highway and the recruits in boot camp. At over two hours in length, the movie might have benefited if it cut out some of the subplots and shenanigans, which take up over half the film and rely on a sense of humor that feels extremely dated over twenty five years later. These scenes might have been more enjoyable if the supporting cast had been at least halfway decent. Instead, we have Mario Van Peebles as the main (i.e. most annoying) comic relief, and a cartoonish villain in the form of Everett McGill playing Eastwood's Commanding Officer. And a subplot involving Highway's ex-wife feels underdeveloped and leaves much to be desired.

So where does that leave us, exactly? While this may be THE film about the 1983 U.S. led invasion of Grenada (I can't think of any others), it disappears against a decade full of military training films dealing specifically with a boot camp setting. I promised myself I would not mention the king of this sub-genre that was released a year later, "Full Metal Jacket". While Kubrick's film certainly provides some chuckles with the delivery of the drill sergeant's insults, Eastwood's film depends on humor to get it through most of its running time, hardly any of it actually being funny. When it finally does get serious, it does not go all the way, and really ends up only being a film where Eastwood gets to act old and mean around a bunch of younger slobs in 80s attire.

We open with a small mining community on a beautiful mountainside going about their daily routine. In the distance, several men appear riding along on thundering horseback, like a dark storm cloud they are menacing in nature as they roll through the picturesque landscape. They are employees of a bigger gold mining company who have come to raise hell, and to frighten these small time tin panners into giving up their rightful (i.e. legal) claim to the land. After the havoc they provoke, a young girl living in the mining camp kneels down to pray for a miracle. In faded transitions emerging through the snow we see Clint Eastwood in long shot on horseback, seemingly the answer to her prayers.

This brilliant opening sets the tone for what ends up being one of Eastwood's finest Westerns, and one of his very best efforts behind the camera as a director. I'm not sure if it was Francois Truffaut who said that a film should not be reviewed until it has been seen at least three times. I'm not even sure if that is the actual quote. As this was my first viewing of "Pale Rider", I'm hesitant to write about it so soon because of how moved I was by it, even though I feel my affection for it will only increase upon future viewings.

If you don't include "Bronco Billy", this is Eastwood's third Western that he has both directed and starred in. 1973's "High Plains Drifter" was his first, and feels like his American interpretation of the spaghetti western genre that made him famous for his Man-With-No-Name roles, an element he borrows for "Pale Rider" as he is only referred to as 'Preacher' throughout the film. The second is 1976's "The Outlaw Josey Wales", which might be viewed as his first revisionist Western, taking the time to show the harsh realities of a Civil War veteran/guerrilla fugitive running for his life on the frontier. What "Pale Rider" gets right more than those two films is the scenery; the snowcapped mountain ranges and the scenic valleys make it arguably the most visually stunning film Eastwood has directed. Utilizing only three main locations, the sense of space is also perfect and gives the film an almost tangible feeling.

I usually have a problem with the under lit quality of the cinematography in Eastwood's films as director, but here he actually puts it to good use. He takes full advantage of the beautiful locations, and saves the dark lighting for the interior scenes, whether it is a miner's cabin or the general store in town. This effect gives the film a more realistic or even revisionist quality, while the supernatural undertones of Eastwood's mysterious main character are a throwback to his main character in "High Plains Drifter", though the results are far less stylized. These dueling aspects work in the movie's favor, like a fusion of his two earlier Westerns as a director.

Much has been made about the plot similarities between "Pale Rider" and George Stevens' 1953 classic Western "Shane". Yes, there are numerous scenes and characters that feel like an updated version of that classic, but the general storyline is similar to many films of this particular genre, immortalized by "Shane" but not specifically original to that film. On the contrary, Stevens' film is so highly stylized that it feels as if it were aiming for that classic status during its production. Eastwood's film, while borrowing heavily from that film's plot, is grittier and meaner, and has a different relationship to the landscape and nature so that it feels more like an Anthony Mann-Jimmy Stewart Western collaboration from the 1950s instead.

The film's climactic showdown is what you'd expect from a Western, masterfully presented and suspenseful in the process. The supporting cast is also a great element to the film. Michael Moriarty is good as the simple miner trying to follow his dreams, and Carrie Snodgress perfect as his love interest, a woman embittered by time and circumstance, who receives a new spark of life when Eastwood's Preacher rides into the mining community. On the opposite side, Chris Penn does a fine job as the villainous son of the rival miner, spoiled and cowardly in his attempts to outdo the settlers he feels are in the way of his father's empire. And Richard Kiel, best known for playing Jaws in a couple of James Bond films, adds a quiet malevolent touch to the proceedings. From the casting to the setting, all of these elements come together nicely to form one of the greatest Westerns ever made.

From the moment it opens, showcasing a nocturnal San Francisco skyline through a magnificent aerial point of view, I knew I would be disappointed with the fourth film in the "Dirty Harry" franchise. Full disclosure: The first "Dirty Harry" film is one of my personal favorites. I consider it a masterpiece, from every shot, line of dialogue and musical cue. And it's the musical score in "Sudden Impact" that first led me astray. With its tacky 80s sound, the music during the opening credits made me realize how much I missed the proto acid-jazz sounds of the first film. I was shocked to discover that it was the same man, Lalo Schifrin (who did great music for another San Francisco cop drama "Bullitt"), who did the music for both films. I should also add that this is the only "Dirty Harry" sequel that I have seen, and after watching this one, I'm in no hurry to pursue the others in an effort to keep my love for the original alive.

"Sudden Impact" features an older and grumpier Inspector Harry Callahan still serving his swift brand of justice on the mean streets of the city by the bay. After giving an aging mobster a heart attack (a cameo from "The Godfather Part II"'s Michael V. Gazzo), Callahan finds himself constantly in the line of fire. "People have a nasty habit of getting dead around you," a superior officer tells him. To lose the heat, Eastwood is soon sent to a small coastal town to get background information on a previous homicide investigation he was working on in the city. Right as he rolls into town, Callahan proves his bosses' statement correct by driving past a robbery in progress in this sleepy little town.

It was at this moment that I completely gave up on the film. It's simply filled with way too many over-the-top moments and a corny sense of humor which don't bode well with its main storyline of a rape victim taking revenge on her perpetrators years later. Because of these two opposing moods, the film feels like it takes forever to get started, derailed by one action scene too many. I wasn't surprised to learn after the fact that the film was originally conceived as a vehicle for Eastwood's then girlfriend and collaborator Sondra Locke, and was only modeled into a "Dirty Harry" film after Warner Brothers responded to a fan poll that expressed interest in bringing back the series. If it were cut by about twenty minutes, the movie might be considerably better.

"Sudden Impact"'s only contribution to cinema is the famous line, "Go ahead ... make my day," delivered by Eastwood near the start of the film when confronting a robber holding a waitress hostage. The scene is familiar but it doesn't undermine the power of Eastwood's delivery, an iconic moment in an otherwise dull film. The line is delivered again during the film's climax to a similar effect. In fact, the whole climatic showdown and final set piece are very well done and almost redeem all that has come before it. However, the impact is tainted after wasting so much time on previous shenanigans and off the wall coincidences.

By the time he started directing his own feature films in the early 1970s, Clint Eastwood had already established his trademark 'Man with No Name' screen persona. From his directorial debut onward, it's as if Eastwood used his ability to helm his own projects as a deliberate attempt to undermine the qualities that people knew him for. This tough guy wanted to show the whole world that he too could be vulnerable; he had a sensitive side.

Coming off the heels of his wonderful departure in "Bronco Billy", a film about a band of misfits living in the myth of the old West (I pretend "Firefox" doesn't exist), Eastwood continued to make another left turn in his career with "Honkytonk Man". Eastwood plays Red Stovall, a small time country singer with a bigger alcohol problem in Depression era Oklahoma. At the start of the film, Red literally crashes into his sister's farm in the middle of a dust storm. After settling in, he reveals an audition opportunity at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, and before too long, is on the road to Tennessee with his nephew Whit and his grandfather-in-law played by longtime character actor John McIntire (he played the sheriff in "Psycho").

Whit is the extension of the audience, and this is as much his story as it is Red's. The majority of the film plays like a coming-of-age road movie, with the usual plot devices you might find in such a piece. On the surface, the whole work initially comes off as a vanity project, considering Whit is played by Eastwood's own adolescent son Kyle. He isn't horrible, drifting from scene to scene with his wide-eyed freckle face. Eastwood's singing voice is worse. I've never seen the 1969 western musical "Paint Your Wagon" that featured him singing, and I was surprised to learn that he cut a novelty album in the early 1960s during the height of his "Rawhide" television fame. In "Honkytonk Man", it just sounds like he's whispering while singing and it makes the premise of a prestigious musical audition hard to believe.

The film's greatest virtue is McIntire as the Grandpa, a role originally offered to James Stewart. While I don't want to imagine how wonderful that casting would have been, McIntire pulls a career best performance, and disappears before the final act without much of an explanation, hindering the impact of the final section of the film. In one of the film's most poignant moments, Whit and his Grandpa stare out into the Oklahoma wilderness right after setting out on the road. McIntire's character reminisces about the long gone promised land that Oklahoma was during the 1890s land lotteries. Now, during the Great Depression, that promised land is California, but all he wants is to return home to Tennessee. Whit encourages him to remain hopeful, but McIntire recognizes the limits of his old age, and the fact that the Oklahoma dream never panned out like he thought it would. "It's all turned to dust," he exclaims regrettably.

McIntire is "Honkytonk Man"'s greatest asset, and after the film arrives at its destination and its focus shifts back to the relationship of uncle Red and his nephew Whit, it turns into a well-meaning cringe-fest. Fans of old time country music or Depression era dramas will find a lot to like about this film. If you don't like sentimental Eastwood, then spend the two hours watching a "Dirty Harry" sequel instead.

In his long and iconic career, Clint Eastwood only made four films in the spy/espionage genre. This film, along with 1975's "The Eiger Sanction" are good indicators of why this was the case.

The film opens nicely enough, with pretty landscapes through a birds-eye-view (or in this case, a helicopter) slowly zooming in to reveal Eastwood's Mitchell Gant jogging through the Alaskan wilderness. Gant now calls this beautiful isolation home, after the trauma of being shot down during Vietnam and taken prisoner, showcased through some grainy flashbacks that reappear throughout the film as soon as you start to forget about them. Gant is approached for a top secret behind enemy lines mission to steal a new and powerful Soviet jet. We are told that even though he obviously suffers from an extreme case of PTSD, his mother was Russian and he physically resembles the Soviet pilot the plane was built for. It is this ridiculous premise that sets this Cold War relic into motion.

Air Force enthusiasts, hardcore Clint fanatics, or fans of 80s Cold War thrillers might find things to like in this film, but with a running time of over two hours and fifteen minutes, it's easier to spot things not to like. Eastwood has more acclaim as a director than an actor, but this might be his worst outing in front of as well as behind the camera. However, it's Freddie Jones' miscalculated performance as a NATO adviser that takes the cake. Warning Gant of the possibility of failure, Jones tells him that he, "...will run out of fuel and die in the Arctic Ocean," with a gleeful smile. In fact, it might be said that Austria gives the best performance in the film as Mother Russia.

Even the worst Roger Moore Bond films were better than this. And unlike "The Eiger Sanction" with its politically incorrect humor and character names, "Firefox" takes itself way too seriously. Because of this austere approach, the pacing is rather dull, with the only suspense taking place in a sequence at a train station near the beginning of the film. The film's only car chase is even boring and poorly staged, and the final act, which should have been the most exciting, consists mostly of Eastwood talking to himself in a cockpit. As a general rule, I give any film made before 1990 that features non-English characters speaking English in their home country a pass, this film included. However, there is one sequence involving disguises and English being spoken on a Soviet base that completely took me out of the film. The Russian characters speak in the stereotypical broken English that you would expect, forgetting a word here and there.

Like most of Eastwood's films, "Firefox" is darkly lit. Unlike the prince of darkness Gordon Willis, who revolutionized this kind of cinematography with The Godfather trilogy, Eastwood uses it to a murky and unsatisfying effect. If you must watch this film, do so at night, or in a room with no windows.

I've spent the last two weeks off and on watching this amazing experience. To slap on the title of 'reality show' would be a disgrace. Few shows, if any, can get so deep as to question our society and our place in the world.

It starts out simple. You think it's a show about modern day families trying to experience what it was like to live in 1883. But you are wrong. There are three "families": The Clunes: A wealthy Malibu family consisting of four children (one of them is a niece) and a father who is smart, but weak. His wife is a drama queen, though has a degree in culinary arts. The Glenns: A middle class suburban family from Tennessee. They are competitive people by nature, and see this as a game. There are two children, and the parents who are having marital problems. The Brooks': They start out as a father and his grown son, but half way through the father leaves to make room for his son's new bride. They are without a doubt the most positive and helpful people on the program.

So for five months we see them all struggle and work together to prepare for winter. Tears are shed, anger is expressed, and love is shared. There are some funny moments as well as some enlightening. But the show really makes it's point after the families go home.

The Brooks': They were married on the frontier, but before the show they lived together in Boston and were sharp young people with a good future ahead of them. After leaving the frontier, they are found in Mexico, just drifting through their honeymoon. They state they have been 'gypsies' since their return. Driving from place to place. Sure modern society holds so many more opportunities for them than the frontier did, but they still don't know what they are going to do with their lives.

The Clunes: They return to find the mansion that was under construction when they left completed. Only, there are so many rooms unused, it seems like a waste. In fact, it all seems like a waste at times.

The Glenns: The family with marital problems separates upon their return home. The wife turns to the church, while one of her children becomes addicted to video games, a habit that was not in place before the frontier. The father has moved into an apartment in Nashville, and hides there from the world. You can tell he misses the frontier. He says that the 21st century is so empty and hollow, they need to have support groups for victims of the 21st century. Upon further research, I discovered he moved back to Montana.

So we were conned. Here we thought we were watching an intelligent reality show about people seeing what life was like during another time period. But what they found was that the society we live in now is empty. Sure we have unlimited possibilities, and everything is instant. But is that the route we should be taking?