Showing posts with label Peter Bogdanovich. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peter Bogdanovich. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

1971--The Year in Review

A truly magnificent year for movies--especially American ones. I mean, just an astounding array of cult films, action films, intimate dramas, costume epics, musicals, documentaries, comedies, science fiction, horror, romances, westerns, cinematic television product, and the emergence of a potent black presence in film. But we also suffer a precipitous drop-off in quality from world cinema--a valley that will stretch across much of the ensuing decade. My top choice is an evocative, downbeat, gloriously black-and-white throwback to the emergence of the teen culture in 1950s Texas. It continually breaks your heart. But its closest competitor is also an examination of a possible future teen culture, vastly more perverted and still justifiably championed by most everyone. I still can't understand how Malcolm McDowell escaped even a nomination for his dynamic Alex De Large. I must reiterate: the sheer number of high-quality movies of all types ensures that some terrific titles are left out of the final mix. NOTE: These are MY choices for each category, and are only occasionally reflective of the selections made by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (aka The Oscars). When available, the nominee that actually won the Oscar will be highlighted in bold. 


PICTURE: THE LAST PICTURE SHOW (US, Peter Bogdanovich)
(2nd: A Clockwork Orange (UK, Stanley Kubrick)
followed by: McCabe and Mrs. Miller (US, Robert Altman)
Fiddler on the Roof (US, Norman Jewison)
The French Connection (US, William Friedkin)
Punishment Park (UK/US, Peter Watkins)
Sunday, Bloody Sunday (UK, John Schlesinger)
Two-Lane Blacktop (US, Monte Hellman)
Carnal Knowledge (US, Mike Nichols)
Macbeth (UK, Roman Polanski)
Harold and Maude (US, Hal Ashby)
The Beguiled (US, Don Siegel)
A New Leaf (US, Elaine May)
Walkabout (Australia, Nicolas Roeg)
Dirty Harry (US, Don Siegel)
Klute (US, Alan J. Pakula)
Directed by John Ford (US, Peter Bogdanovich)
The Emigrants (Sweden/US, Jan Troell)
The Hospital (US, Arthur Hiller)
Taking Off (US, Milos Forman)
The Devils (UK, Ken Russell)
Duel (US, Steven Spielberg)
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (US/UK, Mel Smith)
Millhouse (US, Emile De Antonio)
THX-1138 (US, George Lucas)
Vanishing Point (US, Richard Serafian)
Johnny Got His Gun (US, Dalton Trumbo)
The Andromeda Strain (US, Robert Wise)
Panic in Needle Park (US, Jerry Schatzberg)
Get Carter (UK, Mike Hodges)
Shaft (US, Gordon Parks)
Play Misty For Me (US, Clint Eastwood)
Sweet Sweetback’s Baaadasssss Song (US, Melvin Van Peebles)
Minnie and Moskowicz (US, John Cassavetes)
Bananas (US, Woody Allen)
The Boy Friend (UK, Ken Russell)
Straw Dogs (UK, Sam Peckinpah)
Death in Venice (US/Italy, Luchino Visconti)
The Clowns (Italy, Federico Fellini)
The Hired Hand (US, Peter Fonda)
Let's Scare Jessica to Death (US, John Hancock)
The Goalkeeper’s Fear of the Penalty Kick (West Germany, Wim Wenders)
Fata Morgana (West Germany, Werner Herzog)
Summer of ’42 (US, Robert Mulligan)
Ten Rillington Place (UK, Richard Fleischer)
The Decameron (Italy, Pier Paolo Pasolini)
Silent Running (US, Douglas Trumbull)
They Might Be Giants (US, Anthony Harvey)
Who is Harry Kellerman and Why is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me? (US, Ulu Grosbard)
Land of Silence and Darkness (West Germany, Werner Herzog)
Valdez is Coming (US, Edwin Sherin)
The Point (US, Fred Wolf)
A Fistful of Dynamite (Italy, Sergio Leone)
Sometimes a Great Notion (US, Paul Newman)
Mary, Queen of Scots (UK, Charles Jarrott)
And Now For Something Completely Different (UK, Ian McNaughton)
Christian the Lion (US, Bill Travers)
The Abominable Dr. Phibes (UK, Robert Fuest)
Kotch (US, Jack Lemmon)
The Last Movie (US, Dennis Hopper)
The Strawberry Statement (US, Stuart Hagmann)
Diamonds are Forever (UK, Guy Hamilton)
Monte Walsh (US, William A. Fraker)
Red Sky at Morning (US, James Goldstone)
What's The Matter with Helen? (US, Curtis Harrington)
Pretty Maids All in a Row (US, Roger Vadim)
Behind the Green Door (US, Jim and Artie Mitchell)
When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth (UK, Val Guest)
WR: The Mysteries of the Organism (Yugoslavia, Dusan Makavejev))

ACTOR: Malcolm McDowell, A CLOCKWORK ORANGE (2nd: Gene Hackman, The French Connection, followed by: Topol, Fiddler on the Roof; Gene Wilder, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory; Jack Nicholson, Carnal Knowledge; Walter Matthau, A New Leaf; George C. Scott, The Hospital; Peter Finch, Sunday, Bloody Sunday; Clint Eastwood, The Beguiled; Warren Beatty, McCabe and Mrs Miller)


ACTRESS: Jane Fonda, KLUTE (2nd: Ruth Gordon, Harold and Maude, followed by: Julie Christie, McCabe and Mrs. Miller; Kitty Winn, Panic in Needle Park; Jessica Walter, Play Misty for Me; Liv Ullmann, The Emigrants; Zohra Lampert, Let’s Scare Jessica to Death; Glenda Jackson, Sunday, Bloody Sunday; Jenny Agutter, Walkabout; Geraldine Page, The Beguiled)


SUPPORTING ACTOR: Ben Johnson, THE LAST PICTURE SHOW (2nd: Warren Oates, Two-Lane Blacktop, followed by: Jeff Bridges, The Last Picture Show; Cleavon Little, Vanishing Point; Andy Robinson, Dirty Harry; Roy Scheider, The French Connection; Art Garfunkel, Carnal Knowledge; Tom Baker, Nicholas and Alexandra; Michael Bates, A Clockwork Orange)



SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Cloris Leachman, THE LAST PICTURE SHOW (2nd: Ann-Margret, Carnal Knowledge, followed by: Ellen Burstyn, The Last Picture Show; Candice Bergen, Carnal Knowledge; Barbara Harris, Who is Harry Kellerman and Why is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me?; Vivien Pickles, Harold and Maude; Lee Remick, Sometimes a Great Notion; Jo Ann Harris, The Beguliled)



DIRECTOR: Stanley Kubrick, A CLOCKWORK ORANGE (2nd: Peter Bogdanovich, The Last Picture Show, followed by: Robert Altman, McCabe and Mrs. Miller; Peter Watkins, Punishment Park; William Friedkin, The French Connection; Norman Jewison, Fiddler on the Roof; Roman Polanski, Macbeth; Monte Hellman, Two-Lane Blacktop; Mike Nichols, Carnal Knowledge; John Schlesinger, Sunday, Bloody Sunday)


NON-ENGLISH-LANGUAGE FILM: THE EMIGRANTS (Sweden, Jan Troell) (2nd: The Clowns (Italy, Federico Fellini), followed by: The Goalkeeper’s Fear of the Penalty Kick (West Germany, Wim Wenders); Fata Morgana (West Germany, Werner Herzog); The Decameron (Italy, Pier Paolo Pasolini); Land of Silence and Darkness (West Germany, Werner Herzog))



DOCUMENTARY FEATURE: DIRECTED BY JOHN FORD (US, Peter Bogdanovich) (2nd: Millhouse (US, Emile De Antonio), followed by: Fata Morgana (West Germany, Werner Herzog); Land of Silence and Darkness (West Germany, Werner Herzog); Christian the Lion (US, Bill Travers))



ANIMATED FEATURE: THE POINT (Fred Wolf)



ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY: Peter Watkins, PUNISHMENT PARK (2nd: Paddy Chayefsky, The Hospital, followed by: Penelope Gilliatt, Sunday, Bloody Sunday; Andy and Dave Lewis, Klute; Rudy Wurlitzer and Will Corry, Two-Lane Blacktop)



ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: Peter Bogdanovich and Larry McMurtry, THE LAST PICTURE SHOW (2nd: Stanley Kubrick, A Clockwork Orange, followed by: Robert Altman and Brian McCay, McCabe and Mrs. Miller; Ernest Tidyman, The French Connection; Joseph Stein, Fiddler on the Roof)



LIVE ACTION SHORT FILM: HAPAX LEGOMENA: NOSTALGIA I (US, Hollis Frampton) (2nd: The Act of Seeing With One’s Own Eyes (US, Stan Brakhage); Hot Dogs for Gaugain (US, Martin Brest); Sentinels of Silence (Mexico, Robert Anram); Last Year in Vietnam (US, Oliver Stone)



ANIMATED SHORT FILM: A CHRISTMAS CAROL (UK, Richard Williams, won in 1972) (2nd: Evolution (Canada, Michael Mills), followed by: Freedom River (US, Sam Weiss); The Cat in the Hat (US, Hawley Pratt); The Selfish Giant (Canada. Peter Sander)



CINEMATOGRAPHY: Oswald Morris, FIDDLER ON THE ROOF (2nd: Robert Surtees, The Last Picture Show, followed by: Vilmos Zsigmond, McCabe and Mrs Miller; Gilbert Taylor, Macbeth; Gordon Willis, Klute) 

ART DIRECTION: THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN, Fiddler on the Roof, The Boy Friend, McCabe and Mrs. Miller, Nicholas and Alexandra

COSTUME DESIGN: THE BOY FRIEND, Nicholas and Alexandra, Macbeth, Fiddler on the Roof, Death in Venice

FILM EDITING: A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, The French Connection, Fiddler on the Roof, Punishment Park, Dirty Harry 

SOUND: FIDDLER ON THE ROOF, A Clockwork Orange, THX-1138, The Last Picture Show, McCabe and Mrs. Miller 



ORIGINAL SCORE: Isaac Hayes, SHAFT (2nd: Lalo Schifrin, Dirty Harry, followed by: Michel Legrand, Summer of ’42; Jerry Fielding, Straw Dogs; John Barry, Walkabout)



ADAPTED OR MUSICAL SCORE: John Williams, FIDDLER ON THE ROOF (2nd: Leslie Bricusse, Anthony Newley, and Walter Scharf, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, followed by: Peter Maxwell Davies and Peter Greenwell, The Boy Friend)



ORIGINAL SONG: “Theme from Shaft” from SHAFT (Music and lyrics by Isaac Hayes) (2nd: “Don‘t Be Shy” from Harold and Maude (Music and lyrics by Cat Stevens), followed by: “If You Wanna Sing Out, Sing Out” from Harold and Maude (Music and lyrics by Cat Stevens); “Me and My Arrow” from The Point (Music and lyrics by Harry Nilsson); "Diamonds are Forever" from Diamonds are Forever (Music by John Barry, lyrics by Don Black); "Last Morning" from Who is Harry Kellerman and Why is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me? (Music and lyrics by Shel Silverstein); “Pure Imagination” from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (Music by Leslie Bricusse, lyrics by Anthony Newley); "Bless the Beasts and Children" from Bless the Beasts and Children (Music and lyrics by Barry DeVorzon and Perry Botkin, Jr.)


SPECIAL EFFECTS: SILENT RUNNING, When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth, Bedknobs and Broomsticks

MAKEUP: THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES, Kotch, The Boy Friend 

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Film #158: Daisy Miller


Peter Bogdanovich’s adaptation of Henry James’s novella arrived on screens right after his early '70 blockbuster trifecta The Last Picture Show, What's Up Doc?, and Paper Moon. For tiring reasons, the film community was ready to show the door to this apparently sacrosanct upstart (Bogdanovich had long been hailed, and still hails, as an unassailable film authority). So when Daisy Miller wasn’t quite of crowd-pleasing quality, the industry’s knive-sharpening--aimed at the golden boy--could be heard ringing from coast to coast. 

In the end, absolutely no one went to see Daisy Miller and, in fact, no one wants to see it today (I'm trying to fight against this here). Guided by talk and genre alone, otherwise more adventurous movie lovers later automatically lumped it in with Bogdanovich’s career-destroying musical At Long Last Love (which has recently gotten a much lauded alternate cut) and his silent film homage Nickelodeon (which is also not as bad as many make it out to be). When I first got a copy of Daisy Miller, I was prepared for the worst. What I got was a splendid drama with definite comedic undertones, scripted by Frederic Raphael (Two for the Road, Eyes Wide Shut), that completely floored me with its curious combination of rapid-fire Hawksian repartee, regal costume drama, and dour '70s-flavored conclusions. Even with its eensy flaws, I found it impossible to reconcile its reputation with the actual film. 


Barry Brown (the doomed lead actor of Robert Benton’s Bad Company who eventually succumbed to alcoholism in 1978) plays the flirty Frederick Winterborne, a dandy who sets his eyes on the charismatic but foolish title character, played with grinning flair by Bogdanovich’s off-screen love Cybill Shepherd (with her character's motormouth, she’s mesmerizing in the film--it's possible the role was too much for her to handle at that time--but her very presence is another unfortunately gossipy aspect that worked against its favor). Daisy is a game-playing dunce who makes all the wrong decisions, but she is also dynamic and well beyond her time in terms of sexual freedom, and that’s what draws Frederick‘s adventurous glance (he‘s a dunce, too, though an unexperienced one, and in realizing that, one can see where the attraction lies). It may be, though, that the thing hobbling this production is Frederick’s passive nature, which allows Daisy’s antics to dictate our main character's too-careful moves (which are really products of the time--and I should say, this is mainly HIS story). Let’s just say he and she--both ugly Americans vacationing in an unfamiliar Europe--pay deeply for their differently-shared naivete. 

Seen now without all the gabbing about its makers, Daisy Miller stands as a stark gravestone to not-quite-dead assumptions about both male and female roles in courtship. The supporting cast includes Mildred Natwick as Frederick's dowdy aunt, a starkly unforgiving Eileen Brennan as a socialite who disapproves of Daisy’s very existence, a surprisingly elderly-seeming Cloris Leachman as Daisy’s mother (here, she defies her coinciding, Emmy-winning role as the liberated star of two 70s TV hits, The Mary Tyler Moore Show and Phyllis), and an extremely unusual performance from folk-music artist James McMurtry--the son of Last Picture Show author Larry McMurtry, in his only film--as Daisy’s annoying, buck-toothed, sweets-loving kid brother. The film's stunning final moment--packed with insight into Henry James' indelible characters and setting, and climaxed with McMurtry's damning gaze at the failed man who had the power to save his sister--leaves one incredulous at the movie's summarily unfair reception. With its detailed costumes and sumptuous locations, even if it were remade today, Daisy Miller could not have been adapted any better. Like many of Bogdonovich's great films, it's entertaining, mirthful, gorgeous, dark, and extremely poignant.


Monday, June 8, 2009

MASTER LIST #12: The 40 Best Film Books

In responding enthusiastically to MovieMan's wildfire-like Reading the Movies meme over at The Dancing Image, I've come up with my top forty movie books. Listed roughly in order of importance, they are as such (and I've recently added notations where I gather these books are OUT OF PRINT and thus need special pursuit):

1) The Cult Movies series (1,2, & 3) by Danny Peary (Delta 1981, 1984, 1989)
2) Guide for the Film Fanatic by Danny Peary (Simon and Schuster, LTD, 1987)
3) Alternate Oscars by Danny Peary (Delta 1993)

For my money, Peary is the finest film writer out there. He transmits passion, knowledge and originality of thinking without ever becoming pretentious or unintelligible. He's funny, engaging, and has seen a whole lotta stuff. He's obviously an authority that deserves to be read again and again--and with his breezy style, it's easy to do so. The Cult Movies books are the best-looking non-color film books out there, too--each of the series' 200 entries come complete with credits, full synopses, 5 or so pages of analysis, and a few well-chosen photos; the movies he chooses to cover come from all genres and eras (Peary is a truly democratic film writer). Guide for the Film Fanatic is the book I run to before or after I've seen something notable; I must have burned through four copies of the tome over the years. And Alternate Oscars does brilliantly what we'd all like to do: mete out justice to the movies and actors that deserved the awards; his choices here are sometimes unfailingly personal, but the author always makes convincing arguments. He's now concentrating on sports writing but as a movie aficionado, Danny Peary is the best! No contest! (all are out of print)

4) Kiss Kiss Bang Bang by Pauline Kael (Marion Boyars Publishers Ltd, 1970)
5) Taking It All In by Pauline Kael (Marion Boyars Publishers Ltd, 1986))
6) 5001 Nights at the Movies by Pauline Kael (Holt Paperbacks, 1991)


I could list many more works by this legend, but I kept it down to these three--the first two were my teenaged introduction to the former New Yorker film writer, and the latter is the three-inch-thick guide to movies that also, to this day, is a regular reading stop for me. Kael often disappoints me with what she thinks of my favorite movies (she called 2001 "the biggest amateur movie ever made"), but her writing is so hard-scrabble vivid that I can forgive her 1000 times over for making me feel like a fool (though her opinions have rarely changed my mind). My circa-1989 NYC roommate Gary Sherwood once received a call from her in response to a letter he wrote regarding her favorable review of Tim Burton's Batman; through him, she asked me what my favorite movie thus far of 1989 was, and I responded sex, lies and videotape. She was not pleased, but I still love Soderburgh's movie. And, may I say, it's held up better than Burton's bloated epic has.
7) The Stanley Kubrick Archives by Alison Castle (TASCHEN America Llc, 2008)
The mindbending publishing company Taschen released this massive $200 look into Stanley Kubrick's purview in 2008, and it promptly took first place status in the Kubrick book sweepstakes. Its overwhelming first half consists of frame blowups of images from each of Kubrick's works, from Killer's Kiss to Eyes Wide Shut (the source being Kubrick's prints of his own movies). And the extremely exacting latter half covers the ins and outs of each film's making, replete with Kubrick script pages, memos, and photographs. The book even covers his short films, his little-seen first feature Fear and Desire, his early photographic output for high school and Look magazine, and failed projects Napoleon, The Aryan Papers, and A.I. Stunningly designed and colored, this would be my choice for the nicest-looking, most revealing film book available. I note, happily, that my copy is signed by Malcolm McDowell on the full-page repro of his first Clockwork Orange close-up

8) Hitchcock/Truffaut by Francois Truffaut (Simon and Schuster - Touchstone Books, 1967)
The ultimate in classic conversation between fine filmmakers. Its revelatory quality is absolutely unmatched.

9) Inside Oscar (10th Anniversary Edition) and Inside Oscar 2 by Damien Bona and Mason Wiley (Ballantine Books 1996; Ballantine Books 2002)
An apologetically reverent look at film history, as seen through each year's politically-driven race for the Academy Awards. You'd think it'd be an easy thing to list all the conglomeration's nominees and winners, as this book does perfectly in its final section, but so many Oscar books screw things up with typos and just-plain-wrong information. Not this one. Inside Oscar is the definitive Academy Award overview. (out of print)

 


10) Joe Bob Goes To The Drive-In by Joe Bob Briggs (Delacorte Press 1986/1987, with intro by Stephen King)
Joe Bob (aka John Bloom) brings his unbridled joy to the discussion of bad (and good) filmmaking. His chunky, without-boundaries film writing reminds us of why we like movies: it's cuz they're fun. You know...fun? Remember that? It was on the basis of this book that I chimed in with my bosses at TNT in the mid-90s in recommending him as the host of that network's memorable Monstervision franchise. I'm not bragging--I'm just sayin'... (out of print)

11) This is Orson Welles by Orson Welles and Peter Bogdanovich (Harper Collins 1992)
Reading this, one realizes that Welles' reward as a cinematic genius wasn't necessarily in the making of often (but not always) great movies, but rather in the living of an always rich life. If we could have an earthly existence that held 1/1000th of the excitement that Orson felt, we'd be very lucky indeed.

12) Pictures at a Revolution: Five Movies and the Birth of a New Hollywood by Mark Harris (Penguin (Non-Classics), 2009)
The best film book of recent years takes a gander at the five movies nominated for Best Picture at the 1967 Oscars: Bonnie and Clyde, Doctor Doolittle, The Graduate, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, and In The Heat of the Night. Harris follows the gestation of these movies right up to their release and acclaim (or lack thereof). In doing so, he chronicles the late 60s seachange that led to the last golden era of movies, the 1970s. It reads like a masterful suspense novel--that's how engrossing it is.

13) Making Movies by Sidney Lumet (Vintage, 1996)
This is one book that deserves to rank as the future's #1 textbook for budding filmmakers. Lumet's attention to detail even extends to the direction of extras (he rightfully says that NYC extras are better than LA extras, because the NYC participants are real actors rather than fame-seeking hot-doggers). It's an extraordinary late-career contribution to film writing from one of cinema's greatest craftsmen.

14) The Making of Kubrick's 2001 by Jerome Agel (Signet; First Edition 1970)
I've had a copy of this book on my person ever since I saw 2001 when I was 11 (in 1977). I've only ever seen it as a pocket paperback, but it was clearly printed a lot, because I've never had any trouble finding a copy after my last one had fallen apart. Agel was a nimble media writer who'd worked closely with Marshall McLuhan on a number of tiny-but-dense paperbacks like The Medium is the Massage and Is Tomorrow Today? It's not surprising, but is nonetheless a miracle that he devoted time to compiling this incredible overview of one clearly groundbreaking movie. An Agel book is unmistakable in it layout, typeface, and bouncy form of organization. Here, along with that unique print voice, you will find numerous Kubrick interviews, talks with almost everyone associated with the film, critical reactions (often printed in full), fan (and non-fan) reactions, film quotes, and an amazing 96-page photo compilation that features cut scenes, behind-the-camera views, and frame blowups, all meticulously captioned. The best book ever produced dealing with a single title. (WAY out of print)

15) The Ingmar Bergman Archives by Paul Duncan and Bengt Wanselius (TASCHEN America Llc; Har/DVD/Fl edition 2008)
Like its Kubrick-centric predecessor, Taschen's richly illustrated analysis of the great Swedish filmmaker's career is essential to our understanding of Bergman's immutable worth.

16) RE/Search #10: Incredibly Strange Films by Vivian Vale and Andrea Juno (RE/Search, 1986)
The idiosyncratic San Francisco publishing company RE/Search threw into the film book race with this loving look at outside-the-mainstream filmmakers like Russ Meyer, Ted V. Mikels, Doris Wishman, Larry Cohen, Dave Friedman, Hershell Gordon Lewis, and Ray Dennis Steckler. A compilation of interviews and essays, as well as rare photos and movie ads, it's essential reading for filmfans looking for something different. (out of print)

17) Hollywood on the Riviera: The Inside Story of the Cannes Film Festival by Cari Beauchamp and Henri Behar (William Morrow & Co; 1992)
There've been scads of books written about the Oscars. But only one has been penned about the equally (if not more so) political machinations surrounding the world's leading film festival. This is that unmatchable book. (out of print)

18) The Motion Picture Guide by Stanley Ralph Ross and Jay Robert Nash (CineBooks, 1983)
In 1983, L.A. actors/writers Ross and Nash released this photo-less 17-volume set which examines, apparently, every movie ever made. Pre-IMDB, it was the go-to spot in learning the participants in any film you could think of. What was Peter Lorre's character's name in Beat The Devil? Who photographed Heaven With A Gun? Who wrote A Hatful of Rain? And what songs were used in American Graffiti? You could find the answers here. WARNING: the authors often synopsize the greatest movies in rash detail (their entry for Gone With the Wind lasts five pages, and that's in incredibly tiny type), so if you are sensitive to spoilers, don't read everything. And, I must say, my opinions of movies don't often jibe with theirs (they give Taxi Driver a half a star--they clearly like older movies). But, even if these guys sometimes seem as if they don't know what they're talking about, The Motion Picture Guide is a still a breathtaking achievement. The authors continued with yearly annuals until the 1990s, when they were replaced by Edmond Grant and Ken Fox. (WAY out of print)

19) Scorsese on Scorsese by David Thomson (Faber and Faber, 1989)
Another completist overview of a great filmmaker's career, told with utter honesty by the man himself. Regularly updated.

20) Reel Facts by Cobbett Steinberg (Penguin Books LTD; Rev Ed edition, 1981)
Reel Facts was a book that I picked up in an early edition when I was 10, in 1976. It clued this kid in to all major film festival and critics groups awards. There have been other books that have done what it does (including the later-cited The Encyclopedia of Movie Awards by Michael Gebert), but Steinberg's book is the only one that generously includes, in full, 35 years of the Harvard Lampoon's hilarious worst-movie awards (which takes up, thankfully, about 70 of 500-plus pages). (WAY out of print)

21) The Whole Equation: A History of Hollywood by David Thomson (Little, Brown; 2005)
A dazzling, and essentially personal view of film history that takes into account budgets, box-office, executive predilictions, decade zeitgeists, and filmic quality. It boggles the mind, really, in terms of its pervasive overview, and deserves to be a textbook mainstay.

22) In The Blink of an Eye by Walter Murch (Silman-James Press; 2 Revised edition, 2001)
The essential tome on film editing and sound work, written by a master of the crafts.

23) The American Cinema: Directors and Directions 1929-1968 by Andrew Sarris (Da Capo Press, 1969)
The immutable 60s classic that first posited the auteur theory.

24) A Short History of the Movies by Bruce Kawin and Gerald Mast (Longman; 9th edition, 2005)
The eternal movie textbook, detailed and loving.

25) 50 Years of the Academy Awards (1977 edition) by Robert Osborne (Abbeville Press, 1977)
I got this 1977 book for Christmas that year, and its no-nonsense style, plus its copious illustrations, spurred me on to examine all major Oscar players. It's been updated repeatedly by the distinguished TCM host--up to the 80th year of the awards--but I have a fondness for this edition, particularly. (out of print)

26) Horror Movies: Tales of Terror in the Cinema by Alan G. Frank (Book Sales, 1974)
I received this book for Christmas in 1975. I was a horror movie fan and a regular reader of Forrest J. Ackerman's Famous Monsters of Filmland, but I had never seen anything like this British-based horror movie book decorated with scads of fascinating photos. It's out-of-print now, but it should be in the library of any self-respecting horror movie fan (along with the more complete Nightmare Movies: A Critical Guide to Horror Movies by Kim Newman, which just missed making my top 40). (out of print)

27) The Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film (Vols. 1 & 2) by Michael Weldon (Ballantine Books, 1983, 1994)
Weldon--the master viewer of B-Movies, and the editor of the absolutely essential Psychotronic magazine, weighs in on all fronts, with great humor, passion and precision.

28) Leonard Maltin's Movie Guide by Leonard Maltin et. al (2000 edition published by Signet on September 1, 1999; published yearly)
The perennial movie guide is difiicult to determine in origin. I seem to remember it appearing on bookshelves as early as 1976 (along with Steven Schafner's now-forgotten TV Movies). Staunchly mainstream, it's always does well for a quick look at a movie you're about to watch, but as years progress, older titles are deleted. So, beware...


29) Scenes from the City: Filmmaking in New York by James Sanders (Rizzoli, 2006)
This amazing volume focuses in on movies shot on the greatest soundstage in movie history: New York City. Wholly backed by the New York City Mayor's Office of Film and Television, it features a pleathora of fantastic behind-the-scenes photos of all your favorite NYC-shot movies, complete with exacting locations (the scene from Annie Hall you like? Filmed at 67th and 2nd). It's an incredible work that's as much a travel guide as film book.

30) Stanley Kubrick Directs by Alexander Walker (Harcourt Brace Co; 1972)
Originally published in the early 70s (and recently updated in the 90s in order to cover the director's entire career), this critical dissection of Kubrick's works comes from a close personal friend of the director. As a kid, I referred to this book--which had incredibly valuable frame blow-ups and Walker's rich insights--many, many times. Its pages are instant nostalgia.

31) Defining Moments in Movies: The Greatest Films, Stars, Scenes and Events that Made Movie Magic, edited by Chris Fujiwara (Cassell Illustrated, 2007)
The most recent book on my list reads like a printed version of the web's most impassioned blogposts. Through the words of over 100 internationally-reknowned film writers, it recounts the major moments in film history, from 1899 to 2007. Beautifully illustrated and written, it makes me feel like an absolute dumbkopf--which I love, because I'm always looking to learn more. (out of print?)

32) Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho by Richard Anobile (Macmillan, 1974)
With this book, Anobile pioneered the now-dead fotonovel. He painstakingly looked at each of the key frames of Hitchcock's masterpiece and reproduced them in book form. This, of course, happened before each of us had VCRS and DVD players in our homes. So arriving into classrooms, as I once did with his books, was something of an achievement. He went on to do fotonovels for Ninotchka, Alien, Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde, and Frankenstein, but Anobile's look at Psycho would remain his most valuable contribution to film publishing. (out of print)

33) Final Cut: Art, Money, and Ego in the Making of Heaven's Gate, the Film That Sank United Artists by Steven Bach (Newmarket Press; Revised edition, 1999)
Bach's unsparing look at Michael Cimino's studio-toppling making of Heaven's Gate--still, to me, a vastly underrated movie that popped up wrong-place-wrong-time--stands as a cautionary tale for young filmmakers who, tainted with a taste of success, think they can do anything under the sun.

34) Off-Hollywood Movies: A Film Lovers Guide by Richard Skorman (Harmony, 1989)
A guilty pleasure. The writing isn't notably superb, but the films cited are. (out of print)

35) The Encyclopedia of Movie Awards by Michael Gebert (St. Martins Mass Market Paper, 1996)
Gebart's vastly personal take on the history of movie awards is too vehement to be ignored. A great pocket-sized book to carry with you anywhere, if you're a movie lover. But I wish it were more complete, and twice as thick. (out of print)

36) Hollywood Rock, edited by Marshall Crenshaw and Ted Mico (Harper Collins; 1994)
The history of rock n' roll and all other related music genres, via movies. Crenshaw does little writing here, but his editing is unparalleled. If you like movies AND music--as I suspect many movie writers do--this is essential perusing. (out of print)

37) The Film Encyclopedia by Ephraim Katz (Collins; 6 edition, 2008)
The unquestionably ultimate source for biographical film information. Even in this age, it often trumps the IMDB for insanely accurate information about any film worker's career.

38) Film Forum: Thirty-Five Top Filmmakers Discuss Their Craft by Ellen Oumano (St Martins Press, 1985)
Godard, Altman, De Palma, Silver, and many more world filmmaker nitpick every single aspect of filmmaking in this singular hardback. A must. (out of print)

39) Directors in Action: Selections from Action, The Official Magazine of the Directors Guild of America by Bob Thomas (Bobbs-Merrill Co., 1973)
This very rare tome collects interviews with a bunch of forgotten (read: Paul Williams) and unforgotten (read: Hal Ashby and James Bridges) filmmakers, and really gets into the niggling details. A treasure. (WAY out of print)

40) Picture Shows: The Life and Films of Peter Bogdanovich by Andrew Yule (New York, NY Limelight Editions, 1992)
Only his close personal friend Orson Welles has come close to the life lived by this incredible moviemaker/film writer, who's made his way from print to Corman to filmmaking greatness to tragedy and The Sopranos in a remarkably colorful career. Though the book doesn't cover Bogdanovich's complete output, it does point to key decades radically experienced. (out of print)

I should note that I love the writings of J. Hoberman and Roger Ebert, but I've relied on their daily writings rather than their books.  And I'm ashamed to say: I've read little by James Agee.  Gotta get on that!

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Side Orders #3

Okay, this isn't really an opening to a movie I like, but it does feature a favorite opening song of mine---I mean, it rocks, and you can't get it out of your head!! A real earworm. Anyway, this is sort of a fan vid for a movie called The Sheriff and the Satellite Kid (El sheriff y el pequeño extraterrestre in Italian!). I have an interesting little story about this movie under my belt, but for right now, just enjoy the theme to this 1979 romp starring Italian superstar Bud Spencer as a Southern U.S. sheriff trying to protect a little E.T. tyke (played by former Close Encounters of the Third Kind kid Cary Guffey) from evil, black-suited U.S. forces. (Do you think it's possible Spielberg just saw this on TV one day and said "Heyyy, I think I can make something of this...")

Oh, boy, does this screenplay pop. Paper Moon, Peter Bogdanovich's fine blend of retro-comedy trappings with disarmingly modern touches, also has one of the best scripts around. It's written by Alvin Sargeant, who's also provided the screenplays for Julia (Fred Zinnemann, 77), Dominick and Eugene (Robert M. Young, 88), Ordinary People (Robert Redford, 80), and the last two Spiderman movies by Sam Raimi. This scene, adapted from Joe David Brown's novel Addie Pray, is one of his career best. In it, Tatum O'Neal plays the watchful Addie, a worldwise moppet who meets up with conman Ryan O'Neal at her mother's funeral ("Baby, I bet your ass is still warm," O'Neal whispers into her grave). He agrees to drive her to an aunt in Missouri, but not before deciding to make a little money off the girl. What follows is the explosive, rightfully famous "Nehi and Coney Island scene."


I always think the best trailers are the ones in which at least some of the footage is specifically shot for the advert. Case in point: many of the the opening shots of this preview for Bob Fosse's All That Jazz don't appear in the movie (though they were obviously part of the shoot for the short opening credits sequence). Definitely in hindsight, such a trailer makes the movie AND the preview more special, if not more symbiotic. The editing here is superb, and it's already a wonderfully edited (by Alan Heim) movie! My advice is to see All That Jazz, even if you think you won't like it. Believe me, it's a weird trip--very sobering, energetic, cynical, and stunning to look at. A life-changing movie for me.


It's rare a movie has a scene in it that sticks out so perfectly and unusually as does this one from Michael Mann's The Insider (1999). What's unusual about it? Well, it stands out largely on the backs of two actors who barely have another moment in the film. Here, Russell Crowe is Jeffery Wigant, a "big tobacco" scientist about to take the stand to say that cigarette companies knew nicotine was addictive. But Crowe is in the background only here as two character actors--Wings Hauser as the tobacco lawyer, and Bruce McCall as the Wigant lawyer--battle it out, with McCall making a VERY memorable one-scene impression in The Insider, a film that gets better and better each time I see it.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Film #9: Targets

It's time for us to rethink what constitutes a horror film, especially in this time of exquisitely poured-over daily bloodbaths. I know that, in literary circles, the horror genre has split into “fantasy horror”--Frankenstein, Dracula, ghosts and the sort--and “modern horror,” which considers serial killers, madmen and mass murderers. But why doesn’t this distinction exist as strictly for movies? Most viewers don’t feel films about reality-based multiple murderers deserve to be included in the horror genre, even though these monsters are scarier than any ol’ mummy or wolfman. I mean, is Seven a horror movie? Deliverance? Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer? I Stand Alone? Or Funny Games? I think yes.




In Targets, Peter Bogdanovich’s sobering look at the varying distances between fantasy and modern horror, Boris Karloff portrays Byron Orlock, an embittered old screamfest idol who’s announced his retirement from Hollywood because he's sure the real world has become scarier than any of the cheapos he’s been making. While he’s in L.A. for the drive-in premiere of his last film, one of these worrisome true-life horrors is unveiling in another part of the city, as the all-American Thompson family is too busy with the daily grind to notice the breakdown going on inside the head of their Ken-doll son, Bobby (Tim O’Kelly). Byron’s and Bobby’s worlds collide, but not before Bogdanovich stages one startling act of violence after another. No movie, ever, has matched Targets for vile, matter-of-fact depictions of random violence (though there’s very little blood). We quiver, matching Bobby short-breath-by-short-breath at his every pull of the trigger. Adding salt to open wounds, the director shoots this berserking in an unforgettable quasi-documentary style (the scene with Bobby taking potshots at highway-bound cars while munching on a Baby Ruth will make you wince).



Bogdanovich was one of the first to make a film about modern monsters, predating The Honeymoon Killers, Helter Skelter, and the similarly Charles Whitman-based TV movie The Deadly Tower. That the filmmaker did it while simultaneously paying tribute to the great Karloff, who gained his fame playing fantasy monsters, is no mean feat. Plus he's even one of the leads in Targets, unbilled as Sammy, Karloff's put-upon director (it's a sarcastic, showy performance in which sometimes I swear Bogdanovich is doing a Jimmy Stewart impersonation). Here I have to mention my favorite scene in the film: Karloff's recitation of the classic horror tale "A Date with Death." It was performed in one take, in a hotel room setting, as the camera slowly pulls in on the English actor's ancient face. The final moments of this monologue are especially stupendous because Bogdanovich told Karloff to think about his own death at the tale's final line, and it shows.


There are a lot of details to comment on here. The sharp cinematography here is by Laszlo Kovacs, who impresses with scenes of mysterious darkness (as where Bobby is smoking a cigarette, waiting in the night for his wife to get home), blinding brights (sniping on the oil tankers), and pretty chiaroscuro (Byron's hotel room). Kovacs landed his union card because of this film and went on, with most everybody who toiled behind the scenes on Targets, to collaborate with Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda on Easy Rider. Next, let's give a shout-out to Polly Platt, Bogdanovich's then-wife and muse; it was she who gave him courage to mount this film, plus she provided its excellent art direction (the cool blues in Bobby's parents' soulless house are appropriately maddening). Let's make note, also, of the fact that the idea for the film really first sprang from the head of legendary director Samuel Fuller, who refused any credit but still gets a "Thank You." And pay attention to the kooky pop songs that play on Bobby's radio--they were provided to Bogdanovich from Sonny Bono's collection of rejected demos. Bono trashed them, giving them away for peanuts, but I think they all have a Nuggets (or at least a Pebbles) compilation-style zing to them.



Of course, Targets famously begins with the ENDING of another film, Roger Corman's Karloff / Jack Nicholson classic The Terror (so weird to see a movie start off with the title THE END flashing up on screen)! As well, there's a long look at an earlier Karloff film, Howard Hawks' mortifying 1932 prison drama The Criminal Code. Then, for drive-in fans, there's some exciting documentary-like footage of a '60s-era LA ozoner's concession stand, playground, box office, marquee, projection room, car park, and even some glimpses inside the drive-in screen itself.

And, by the way, Bogdanovich didn't intend this movie to be about gun control so, while I think the anti-gun, Charles Whitman/Lee Harvey Oswald statements at the film's outset add to the chills, Bogdanovich fought the studio over them and lost. But despite that, Targets from 1968 remains a wonder on many different levels.