It was a movie-filled weekend. I have been slacking on my movie watching lately. I had actually been on a spree of doing things outside, but the Midnight Sun Festival was in town, which meant live music at the bars, which meant lazy hangover days filled with movies – interrupted by short pussyfoot jogs to sweat out the booze.
Showing on the small screen was Alfred Hitchcock’s 1956 version of
The Man Who Knew Too Much,
All The King’s Men (1949), and
The Girlfriend Experiment (2009). Lots of spoilers ahead, so read at your own risk.
I really like Alfred Hitchcock. I grew up watching
Alfred Hitchcock Presents on Nick at Night. The
Birds,
Psycho, and
Rear Window are untouchable classics in suspense and horror. However,
The Man Who Knew Too Much fell flat. This is a shame because the plot holds a lot of potential. The son of a Doctor, played by the usually awesome Jimmy Stewart, and his former stage star wife, played by Doris Day, is kidnapped after Stewart, on vacation in Morocco, learns about the plan to assassinate a high level politician in jolly old England. The kidnappers say the son, played by some annoying little kid, will be returned in exchange for Stewart not revealing the assassination plot. Stewart and Day are faced with the choices to remain quiet and trust the kidnappers, try to get help, or go after the bad guys themselves. Of course they go it alone and of course they get the kid back and everybody is happy. I’m surprised this hasn’t been remade with Will Smith, his annoying son, and a bomb in NYC. Actually, it probably has and I just missed the previews.
There were a few good scenes in the film, most notably the assassination attempt in a giant concert hall where the actors don’t speak for a good ten minutes and the orchestra/chorus that is performing provide a gradual and suspenseful build up. An unneeded taxidermist mix-up was cute and clever, but again, unnecessary especially in a two hour movie. All this was overshadowed by lackluster performances and lots of “no way somebody would do that” moments. Stewart and Day have no chemistry. I don’t know if this is a modern era thing, but with two starring leads I expect good dialogue and emotion between them. Alone, each put in a passable performance, but as husband and wife it was totally unbelievable. They couldn’t even make marital squabbles sound believable.
As for the no way somebody would do that, there is no way that a couple would let their child wander around Morocco with two English folk that they met the day before and after the mother accused of spying on them. There is no way that you don’t take that child to the police station with you. There is no way that an assassin uses a pistol to shoot somebody half a concert hall away. There is no way that you sit through a full church service that the kidnappers are putting on.
Finally, maybe this is no enough women’s studies classes talking, but does anybody remember the good old days when it was appropriate to not tell your wife immediately about your child’s kidnapping and then use your position as a doctor to force sedatives on her before you reveal it? You know how hysterical and emotional the female brain is. They just can’t deal with stress, best to drug them.
All The King’s Men was the much better of my two classic choices. In case you don’t know,
All The King’s Men is based on the book of the same name which is based on the life of real life Louisiana politician Huey Long. The plot is simple – guy fighting the corrupt system becomes corrupt by that very system, power corrupts, etc. Old news to cynics like me, but seemingly unknown to our current voting public.
The setting is Any-Southern-State, USA and Long is a character named Willie Stark, a mild mannered, uncharismatic, humble roots country boy rallying against corruption in government. The movie does a good job of not making Stark a member of any discernable political party and keeps his politics to basic populist ideals. A big city reporter picks up on his story and begins following him around. His speeches are dry attempts to tell people the facts and figures and lead him nowhere. He tries again and again to run for office with no success until he finally gets drunk (his wife didn’t approve of drinking) and gives a fiery speech to a crowd of “hicks.” The “hicks” become Stark’s base and he wins.
After he is elected governor, Stark begins building and modernizing his state as promised. There are projects upon projects bearing his name. He also begins purging all those who don’t agree with him and using more and more dirty tactics to deal with issues because Stark’s way is the right way. Nobody is going to disagree or interfere with him. In the process, the reporter gets wrapped up in Stark’s administration and becomes a reluctant hatchetman, even digging up dirt on a long time friend and Judge whom he highly respects.
The moral of the story makes up any slips in acting. I am split on whether I like the 40’s and 50’s over the top noir style of acting. Sometimes it works well, other times it is just painful. Broderick Crawford struggles as hick Willie Stark, but comes to life as the corrupt politician balancing self-righteousness with charm and charisma. John Ireland as reporter Jack Burden does a competent job with a typical 40’s overacted noir style. Joanne Dru was excellent as Stark’s outspoken assistant and offered a quite a few good one-liners.
I try to avoid politics on this little blog, but as an ever-increasing jaded and disillusioned Obama voter, I couldn’t help but see comparisons to the current administration. I think the White House should think about having a screening. Also, for all the Tea Partiers out there, you may want to invite presidential prospect Sarah Baby over for popcorn and a viewing. For the rest of you out there, if you don’t want to read the book,
All The King’s Men is definitely worth watching. Sure you will come out more cynical and distrusting, but isn’t that what the Founding Father’s wanted us to be?
On a completely unrelated note, what struck me about both The Man Who Knew Too Much and
All the King’s Men was the vast amount of cigarettes and booze. I in no way support making smoking or alcohol in movies criteria for ratings, but come on, when was it socially acceptable to carry around a giant flask of whiskey in your suit? Should the paralyzed from football playing son really be sucking down unfiltered smokes? Did people in 1950 not realize they were bad for you? Nobody noticed that the running back who didn’t smoke ran faster?
People prior to 1980 had to have constantly stunk of liquor and smoke. Smoking indoors everywhere? Have you smelled a smoking hotel room? We have the modern technology of air ventilation systems and Oust! and it still smells. A few hours out at the bars here, which all still allow smoking, and my hair and clothing reek. You can smell the drunks and partiers that inhabit Front St. from ten feet away. Seriously, is there anything worse than bourbon breath?
With this on my mind I watched
The Girlfriend Experience, the “edgy” indie film about a call girl in NYC starring porn star Sasha Grey. A flash of inspiration came to me and I suddenly realized that sexual revolution of the 60’s, the following women’s rights movement, up through the loosened morals of hookers and teenage blowjob journals today were not caused by secularism or a loss of morals and God, nor was it progressive views on the role of women or human sexuality or any other social theory. No, all these are directly caused by increased hygiene, air-conditioning, synthetic fabrics, a decrease in the casual use of alcohol and indoor smoking bans. In essence, things that make people smell better.
Bare with me on this. If you are running around in a gray flannel suit in the south in 1950, smoking two packs a day and having three martini lunches, you are going to be a sweaty, nasty mess. Nobody is going to want to do freaky deeky sex things with you. Are you turned on when your significant other comes home from a night of drinking and crawls into bed? No. You make their stinky ass sleep on the couch. Ever have sex after a day of running around outside, jogging, riding bikes or playing softball? Doable, but still kind of gnarly. Flash forward to the 1960’s with looser clothing, in cool northern California and the northern East Coast, or in an air-conditioned apartment, and stoned instead of drunk, and an orgy sounds much more inviting. By the 1980’s we had smoke free restaurants and buildings, easily washable clothing, cocaine and designer cologne. Consequently we had lots of people doing it.
So anyway,
The Girlfriend Experience, was some hyped up Steven Soderbergh, low budget, improvised, non-professional actor flick. It sucked. It was supposed to be a look into the life of high priced call girl, played by Sasha Grey, during the onset of the recession, but it left you with nothing. I literally got up 77 minutes later slightly rested from laying on my couch, with everything in my head exactly the way it was before. Check that, I had disappointment because you only get to see Grey’s boobs twice briefly. She gets gangbanged on film for money, show some sex in a movie about a high priced hooker for God’s sake.
There was no character development. None. Grey is a call girl looking to expand her business and believes in astrology or birthday’s or something stupid. Her boyfriend works at a gym. There is a recession. That is all there is and that is all we get. Grey, in an effort to expand her business talks to a reporter and tells him nothing. Nothing! The reporter at one point even says something to the effect that you must have an iron door protecting you. She just agrees. What the fuck? This entire film could have been done in ten minutes if that is all we are getting.
The acting is atrocious. Improvising works well if you are intelligent or have something to say. The actors had neither. The role of Grey’s boyfriend was played by some dolt who let his five o’clock shadow do most of the acting. He reminded me of the tall dark-haired hack from American Pie, Chris Klein I think, but in comparison makes Klein look downright Shakespearian. Grey should stick to making nudie films. Her acting ranges from brooding to pouting, which is a shame because I think it would be great to see more porn stars in major films. In an age when Meghan Fox, Sarah Jessica Parker, Kate Hudson and Miley Cyrus are considered professional actors, if you can convince the world that double penetration is getting you off, you should probably be able to do alright in Hollywood.
Do not rent this movie. Spend your 77 minutes reading the blog
Confessions of a College Callgirl. It is free, more entertaining and much more informative about the life of a fancy hooker.
