Month: December 2017

Stalag 17 (1953)

Stalag 17 (1953)

(On TV, December 2017) It’s hard to watch Stalag 17 and not think about the fetishization of history. Like it or not, World War II drama has grown more and more ponderous over the past decades, to the point where a World War II movie is presumed to be all about gravitas and serious considerations of the terrible cost of war. It wasn’t always so, though, whether we’re talking about the blockbuster WW2-themed action adventures from the seventies (The Great Escape, Where Eagles Dare) or, even closer to the war itself, a film like Stalag 17 that spends a lot of time in silly comedy before getting down to the thriller business. Early parts of the film, such as the white-line painting sequence, really wouldn’t feel out of place in an Adam Sandler movie. Keep in mind that Stalag 17 is based on the real-life experiences of its writers (filtered through a Broadway play adapted on-screen) and so presents the full range of humour and horror of German POW camps—not the almost idealized portrayal of later writers with an indirect knowledge of events. As such, Stalag 17 uniquely captures in time a historical truth of sorts, then wraps it up in entertaining thriller mechanics about uncovering an informant and helping a marked prisoner escape. William Holden is quite good as the resourceful but unjustly accused protagonist, while Don Taylor plays the other lead engagingly. Writer/director Billy Wilder has a long and varied filmography, and his Stalag 17 is still quite entertaining to watch, even as its closeness to the subject does give it a now-unusual quality.

The Nut Job 2: Nutty by Nature (2017)

The Nut Job 2: Nutty by Nature (2017)

(In French, Video On-Demand, December 2017) There normally wouldn’t be much to say about The Nut Job 2: Nutty by Nature. It is, after all, firmly in-line with the current crop of B-tier animated movies for kids: animal protagonists, frantic action sequences, song-and-dance numbers, and so on as if it was rolling down an assembly line. Watch it with the kids for the cuteness, skip credits, the end. This being said, two or three things are worth mentioning … the first being that the sequel does feel slightly better than the original. In fact, The Nut Job 2 spends its first few minutes literally blowing up the conclusion of the first film, moving the protagonist toward self-sufficiency rather than the simplistic treasure trove obtained at the end of the first film. This sense of more complex issues shouldn’t be seen as absolute (after all, this is a one of those kids’ movies where the antagonist is a corrupt mayor/land developer), but it does make the series advance forward ever so slightly. Some of the gags do land effectively, and the madcap pacing of the action sequences works if you like that kind of thing. While I don’t often comment on French dubs of movies, there is one glaring irritant in the Canadian-French version of The Nut Job 2 that needs to be mentioned: They actually translate the word “cute” as … well, cute. This is lazy and ludicrous, especially when perfectly good French alternatives along the lines of mignon, chou or joli already exist. Ugh. But never mind. At least the credits aren’t a singalong version Gangnam Style like in the first one.

Forbidden Planet (1956)

Forbidden Planet (1956)

(On DVD, December 2017) How could I call myself a science-fiction expert, reviewer or even fan given that I hadn’t even seen Forbidden Planet? Isn’t it in the running for the title of the fiftiesiest of the 1950s science-fiction movies? Featuring an almost-unrecognizable Leslie Nielsen (with not-white hair!) as the captain of a mission investigating the disappearance of a colony, Forbidden Planet begins with a saucer with theremin (ish) music and clearly shows itself to be a predecessor of the Star Trek template. Much of the film is hopelessly dated by today’s standards, but consider that to be a compliment, as it can be enjoyed as a retro-futurist period piece, not wrong as much as existing in its own reality. Even the mumbo-jumbo of the third act can be excused by the rest of the film, a big-budget science-fiction spectacular with effects that are still mildly impressive today. The pacing is off, the SF devices are clumsy (Robbie the Robot, ugh!) and the acting clearly comes from a pre-realism era, but Forbidden Planet has, in sixty years, acquired a patina of charm that shields it from more conventional criticism. I enjoyed seeing it quite a bit more than I expected, and it’s not just about filling in a gap in my knowledge of the genre—there is enough good stuff here and there to make the film enjoyable on its own terms.

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)

(On Cable TV, December 2017) I distinctly remember the cymbal climax of The Man Who Knew Too Much from boyhood memories, so technically this would be a second viewing … but given that I only remembered that, let’s not pretend that I’m revisiting it. After all, watching it today I’m more interested in seeing another Alfred Hitchcock movie starring James Stewart and Doris Day. The result is in line with expectations, although I’ll note that overall, and compared to other Hitchcock movies of the same era, The Man Who Knew Too Much feels more average than it should. It’s overlong, with some sequences milking the same emotions to diminishing return. It takes much longer than it should to get started, and the “Que Sera, Sera” climax, while effective, is extended far too long after the cymbal moment to be as satisfying as it could be. Even Stewart, as good as he is, seems to be coasting on an average performance in an average film. Some of the plot curlicues are suspiciously convenient (such as having Day’s character being a retired yet still famous singer) but that’s to be expected. Still, for all of what’s not so good about The Man Who Knew Too Much, it’s still a Hitchcock film from the director’s competent period, with likable smart leads in Stewart and not-so-icy blonde Day. The suspense is well handled and if the film feels lacking today, it’s largely because it has set the standard through which modern thrillers are examined. As an entry through Hitchcock’s filmography, it’s a painless enough viewing. 

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)

(On Cable TV, December 2017) My understanding of James Stewart and John Wayne’s screen persona is still incomplete (especially when it comes to Stewart’s latter-day westerns), but as of now, “James Stewart and John Wayne in a Western” tells me nearly all I needed to know about The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance’s plot. The clash between Stewart’s urbane gentility and Wayne’s tough-guy gruffness isn’t just casting: it’s the crux of the film’s nuanced look at the end of the Western period. The film’s classic set-up (an eastern-trained lawyer comes to town, becomes an enemy of the local villain) becomes an examination of Western tropes when the easy fatal solution is rejected by the protagonist as being against his values. When John Ford’s character steps in as a necessary conduit for violence, this deceptively simple film becomes a thought-piece questioning an entire genre. I surprisingly liked it upon watching (save for an extended sequences in which American democracy is slowly explained) and liked it even more upon further thought. Stewart is terrific in a role that harkens back to his more youthful idealist persona, while Ford is impeccable as a somewhat repellent but ultimately heroic figure. (I find it significant that my three favourite Wayne movies so far, along with The Searchers and The Shootist, have him willing to play roles that are critical of his usual persona.)  Under John Ford’s experienced direction, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance acts as an epilogue to the Western and a hopeful examination of American values that emerged from the period.