Steven Spielberg

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

(Second or third viewing, On TV, September 2016) Forgetting something isn’t usually a cause for joy, but forgetting enough of a great movie to make it possible to rediscover it as a great movie is an exception. So it is that I remembered enough of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade to remember that it was a good movie, but not enough to spoil the moment-to-moment joy of watching it again twenty years later. A far more decent follow-up to Raiders of the Lost Ark than the disappointing Temple of Doom, this Last Crusade quickly fires on all cylinders the moment Jones Senior (Sean Connery in one of his most enjoyable performances) shows up to rival Jones Junior. The interplay between Connery and Harrison Ford is terrific (especially when Alison Doody’s temptress character is involved), and confronting the Nazis in their backyard is a great way to heighten the stakes. Steven Spielberg is also remarkable in his action-adventure mode, cleverly building up suspense and working his audience like a fiddle—the tank sequence alone is a masterclass in how to build an action sequence. Faithfully taking up the thrill-a-minute rhythm of the serials that inspired the first film, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is one of the good adventure movies of the eighties, and it still works remarkably well today. For best results, watch it soon after the first film.

Raiders of the Lost Ark aka Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Raiders of the Lost Ark aka Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

(Third or fourth viewing, On TV, September 2016) What a movie! I probably saw it more than twice before I started keeping online reviews in 1997, but it had been so long that I almost rediscovered the film in watching it again. It hasn’t aged much: while some of the special effects now look charmingly quaint, the pacing, shot construction, acting performances and overall sense of fun remains timeless. Harrison Ford has one of his career-best roles here, and Karen Allen is simply fantastic as Marion. Steven Spielberg directs the film with uncanny precision, and much of the practical effects are still convincing today. The use of Nazis as antagonists is guilt-free, while the mystical overtones of the story perfectly complete it rather than confuse it. Even looking at the film through the now-familiar Protagonist Redundancy Paradox (i.e.; Does Indiana Jones actually change anything through his actions?) doesn’t take away any of the thrills of the results. I’ve been revisiting a number of classic movies lately, and most of the time the reassessment isn’t kind. But with Raiders of the Lost Ark, I’m just as thrilled now as I was when I first saw the movie as a kid. What a movie!

Schindler’s List (1993)

Schindler’s List (1993)

(On Cable TV, August 2016) Whew. I’m not going to try to give a coherent review of Schindler’s List, but it has certainly earned its notoriety, awards and enduring reputation. More than twenty years later, it hasn’t aged, and in fact may have appreciated in some respects—the last sequence, presenting Holocaust survivors who have largely died since 1993, will only grow more impressive as a time capsule. Both Liam Neeson and Joseph Fiennes are terrific in their roles—there’s even a bit of canny physical casting going on with Neeson, given how his height often allows him to effortlessly become the focus of group scenes. But what’s perhaps most astonishing about Schindler’s List is how it works despite ignoring conventional wisdom. Its most transcending moments are found in digressions from the story it could have told more economically, whether it’s showing what happens to the luggage of people being hauled away to concentration camps, or a lengthy sequence detailing the liquidation of the Cracow ghetto, or another scene in which terrified women are forced into a group shower where they fear the worst. Those highlights are, at best, tangential to the film’s story about a businessman who saved more than a thousand people from being killed in concentration camps. But they pack an emotional punch that raise Schindler’s List far above countless more mechanical attempts at portraying the horrors of the Holocaust. If it means that the film is a massive 197 minutes long, then so be it: it’s so good that it passes by quickly. The essentially black-and-white cinematography is terrific, and hasn’t perceptively aged today. Director Steven Spielberg has achieved an artistic and humanitarian masterpiece here, and has done so in the same year he delivered his blockbuster Jurassic Park. Neither of these films are going away, but Schindler’s List has the added appeal that it will never be remade. Who can even pretend to retouch quasi-perfection?

Poltergeist (1982)

Poltergeist (1982)

(On Cable TV, April 2016) I sat down to watch Poltergeist with some apprehension: Horror movies often don’t age well, and this one had a reputation for being heavy on special effects, which don’t always age very well either. I had dim memories of being scared of parts of the movie as a young kid (enough so that without quite remembering why, I started feeling queasy when I saw the steak moving across the kitchen counter…) but otherwise approached the film fresh. Fortunately, Poltergeist still works splendidly today. It’s suspenseful, funny at unexpected times and crazy when it needs to pull all the stops. The special effects are not bad, and if the film feels familiar (it probably codified half the story beats we now associate with haunted-house stories), it’s also just quirky enough to feel fresh. The early eighties setting now has a definitive charm, as do some of the special effects limitations. Interestingly enough, modern technology now arguably enhances the film’s sense of dread: When I was intrigued enough to wonder what a hand-drawn 1988 Super Bowl poster would be doing in a 1982 movie, I immediately used my phone to Google my question … and really did not expect the answer I got. (Also: That steak crawling on the kitchen counter scene? Still gross after all these years.) On a more light-hearted note, I was impressed at the unexpected humour shown in the film as a family playfully accepts the presence of paranormal forces in its house (before a family member disappears, that is), and even more impressed at how the movie pulls out all the stops when it’s time for stuff to get completely crazy, either at mid-movie or during the all-out finale. Never mind that the various scares don’t really amount to something cohesive given the premise of the film: it’s thrilling enough to paper over any objections. The directing helps: Tobe Hooper may be listed as the director, but there’s a definitive early-Spielbergian quality to the result that practically makes the movie a full entry in Spielberg’s filmography. Of the actors, Craig T. Nelson is very good as the fatherly anchor of the film, with young Heather O’Rourke being iconic as the young Carol-Anne. Poltergeist is still fairly well-known today for a good reason: it has aged very well and even its competent 2015 remake makes it look even better.

(Second viewing, On Cable TV, October 2022) I wasn’t really planning on re-watching all of Poltergeist: given that TCM was giving it a prime-time spot, I was only planning on checking out the host presentation. But with Halloween around the corner and a few chores to do within TV distance, I let the beginning of the film play… and gradually found myself seduced all over again by the results. Say what you want about some dated effects and the greater familiarity of horror movies these days, there’s something simply hypnotic to the way director Steven Spielberg Tobe Hooper handles a rather good script. I still love, perhaps even more than upon first viewing, the humour that permeates the film from beginning to end, especially as we get a span of reactions of our ordinary suburban characters to the escalating weirdness. I like how the script skips over some obligatory-but-dull moments to show us the more interesting results of those plot-mandatory moments. I especially still love how crazy Poltergeist gets at times, with an audio-visual chaos testing modern HDTV-broadcast compression algorithms. That last aspect is enough to get me wondering — hmmm, is it time to get a 4K disc copy?

Bridge of Spies (2015)

Bridge of Spies (2015)

(Video on Demand, February 2016) 2015 has been a year heavy in spy movies, but most of them emphasized comedy and action at the expense of any halfway realistic look at the profession. Fortunately, here comes Bridge of Spies to compensate for this sensational excess. Written by the Coen brothers and directed by Stephen Spielberg in his more serious mode, Bridge of Spies is a fictionalized account of the real-life Cold War heroics of James B. Donovan, an American lawyer who, almost by accident, became involved in clandestine activities. Selected to defend a man accused of spying in the US, our protagonist (ably played by Tom Hanks, making the most of his everyman persona) ends up ably defending universal values against an American government trying to pillory a target. His troubles aren’t over once that’s done, given how he then finds himself travelling to Berlin to negotiate an exchange of prisoners at a time where the Wall is going up and no-one seems quite sure who to believe. Relatively low in action (although it does feature a harrowing sequence in which Gary Powers’ U2 is shot down over the Soviet Union), Bridge of Spies makes up for it in portraying its hero as a man with a briefcase and strong principles. Mark Rylance provides crucial support with a laconic performance as a curiously sympathetic spy. At times, Bridge of Spies does run too long, and feels just a bit duller than it could have been. Compared to even the best of the other spy movies of 2015 such as Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation or Kingsman, it feels positively adult, though, and that’s a substantial part of its charm. Consider it an antidote when you’ll be tired of seeing spies merely shown as gun-toting action heroes.

Amistad (1997)

Amistad (1997)

(Netflix Streaming, February 2016) I’m late to Amistad, but watching it explains a lot of Steven Spielberg’s latter filmography, most obviously Lincoln. (Although I suspect that I’ll understand even more once I see The Color Purple). While I could blather on about Amistad’s excessive length and slow pacing, that would be missing the point of a film that dares to show how civilized arguments can make better humans out of everyone. This movie believes in the rule of law, but doesn’t shy away from showing distressing scenes of slavery and torture. (Amistad illuminates Lincoln’s distant treatment of slavery by the explanation that Spielberg already showed the worst in his earlier film, and wasn’t keen on graphically revisiting the issue.) It’s a period drama but a handsomely executed one, featuring actors that were either at the height of their powers (Anthony Hopkins, Morgan Freeman) or on the verge of stardom (Matthew McConaughy, and Djimon Hounsou in a terrific performance). There are plenty of other things to like: Amistad lets subtitles play a role in the way viewers feel the story unfolding, credibly shines a light in pockets of American history that people would like to forget, ends on eloquence (albeit with an explosive coda) and appeals to our better natures. I wouldn’t necessarily call it gripping or essential, but it’s easily compelling and worthwhile … and has survived admirably well the almost-twenty years since its release.

War Horse (2011)

War Horse (2011)

(On TV, March 2015) Horses are noble and beautiful creatures.  Doing a movie from a horse’s perspective through World War I doesn’t sound like a bad idea, and in the hands of Steven Spielberg, can become surprisingly potent at times.  But at nearly two-and-a-half hours, War Horse often tests the patience of anyone who isn’t an equine fan.  It takes half an hour to get to a triumphant plowing scene, for instance.  But War Horse does get better and more urgent as it goes along: by the time we’re in the familiar WW1 trenches, the film holds nothing back in showing us the devastation of war on men and animals alike.  Spielberg being at the helm, there are a few great sequences along the way, even though the film as a whole often seems markedly less spectacular than other Spielbergian spectacles.  There’s a lot of war-is-hell content here –the film can be merciless in dispatching characters, something that the human-episodic structure (since the horse is the protagonist) takes to its fullest advantage.  It adds up to a lengthy sit of a film, although rewarding for those with the patience to do so –and the last half of War Horse is quite a bit more dramatically rewarding that the first one, despite some outrageously sentimental manipulation toward the end.  

The Adventures of Tintin (2011)

The Adventures of Tintin (2011)

(On TV, January 2015)  As someone who owned the entire run of Tintin graphic novels in childhood, I wasn’t able to watch this big-screen adaptation without a bit of a protective interest.  Unfortunately, I had a hard time getting comfortable with the film: The character design had a distracting bobble-head quality that sent the whole film into the uncanny valley, and I never could quite reconcile the photorealism of the settings with the way the characters looked.  Despite the quality of the animation, The Adventures of Tintin reminded me of the 2001 Final Fantasy film in that it never quite could manage to make its characters feel as if they matched their surroundings.  This being said, the quality of Steven Spielberg’s direction eventually made me warm up to the entire result.  There are a pair of fantastic action sequences that do much to make the film worthwhile: A water-and-fire naval engagement looks great, but more remarkably a lengthy one-shot action sequence featuring characters racing downhill that would be impossible to do without CGI and a lot of direction skills.  What’s fortunate is that the script is actually not too bad: witty at times, definitely steeped into a pleasant tradition of adventure films at others.  Many of the early Tintin characters and details are there for the fans, and the globe-trotting tradition of the series feels intact.  The Adventures of Tintin doesn’t amount to much more than a big adventure… but that’s not a bad thing.  Still, I just wish a slightly-different direction had been taken about the visual look of the characters.

The Terminal (2004)

The Terminal (2004)

(In French, On TV, January 2015)  Big-budget high-concept mimetic dramas are getting scarce on the ground at an a time where spectacle reigns at the box-office, but throw enough big names at a project and you may find a few surprises.  This Spielberg-directed film stars Tom Hanks as a tourist who finds himself stranded within New York’s JFK airport after a coup back home.  Laboriously trying to make sense of an unfamiliar environment, he eventually manages to learn English, earn a decent salary as a construction worker, romance a high-flying stewardess and accomplish his original goals.  It may sound simple, but much of the film’s pleasure is in seeing it unfold in quasi-procedural detail.  Tom Hanks is remarkable as the stranded tourist, learning how to adapt to his situation as best as he can.  The supporting players are often good (Catherine Zeta-Jones plays The Girl with a nice touch of unpredictability, with a surprising conclusion to her arc) although some plotlines involving Stanley Tucci as an antagonist feel more caricatured than they deserve.  Spielberg at the helm means that we get solid direction, with occasional flourishes such as the vertiginous pull-back shot that shows how crazy-large the terminal set was.  I watched the film in French, which took away a bit of the film’s linguistic element but introduced a bilingual bonus when Zoe Saldana’s character comments that she goes to Star Trek conventions cosplaying as Uhura.  (Saldana would go one to play Uhura in the 2009 film; in the original English version of The Terminal, she says that she cosplays as Yeoman Rand)  The film’s ending does feel a bit downbeat, but not all that much: in the end, we still get an amazing robinsonade in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

1941 (1979)

1941 (1979)

(On Cable TV, November 2014) I had been curious about Steven Spielberg’s 1941 for decades (since seeing it as a video-store rental in the mid-eighties, as a matter of fact), but now that I’ve found the time to see it, my first reaction is a blend of bewilderment and hilarity.  It’s fairly rare to see big-budget farce these days, and so 1941‘s most distinctive feature is the way its shamelessly silly comedy is played along a backdrop of expensive and explosive sight-gags.  It takes a while to adjust: the first (day-lit) half-hour feels dumb and uncomfortable as the dozen characters are rapidly introduced while mugging for the camera and the broad comedy seemingly goes everywhere.  It gets better once night falls and the film focuses (somewhat) on a USO show and ensuing mayhem.  The dancing sequence is one for the books, and as the comic set-pieces escalate, 1941 finds an amusing overblown rhythm.  Unfortunately, it peaks nearly twenty minutes before the actual end of the film, and the rest is just wrap-up.  There’s a decently subversive intent here in making fun of war paranoia following Pearl Harbor (I imagine there’s a pretty funny 2001 movie in our future poking fun at post-9/11 hysteria, but we won’t see it before 2039.), but the film as a whole feels as undisciplined as it is lavish.  It’s certainly still impressive: the special effects are top-notch even today, and the cast has some of the biggest names in then-film comedy.  (You can fawn over Dan Aykroyd or Ned Beatty or John Belushi, but I’ll giggle over Nancy Allen’s plane-crazy character, or Wendie Jo Sperber’s persistent Maxine.)  For better or for worse, there aren’t that many films with that particular tone nowadays, and so 1941 does warrant a look despite a number of significant flaws.  (Fans of stockings and garters will also be pretty happy with the film.)  Finally, as if you needed any further reason, it’s a Spielberg film, which means that it’s visually inventive and creatively self-assured: there are audacious camera moves everywhere, and the mayhem seldom degenerates into nonsense.  For all its flaws, it’s a big movie that tries things now seldom attempted.

Lincoln (2012)

Lincoln (2012)

(Video On-demand, March 2013) In the stream of critical adulation for Lincoln, mark me down as undecided: Maybe it’s because I’m not American, but this presidential biography feels flat, dark and dull compared to the material’s potential. I am not objecting to the film’s initial refusal to bow to the mythology of the character: some of Lincoln’s best moments come in presenting the president as a canny politician rather than a heroic folk-figure. Unfortunately, Lincoln gets more self-important as it advances, yet still feels unnecessarily dull throughout. The dark cinematography doesn’t help things, and while the film is not bad at building a political thriller about the passing of a bill rather than a fully satisfying portrait of a historical figure, it still feels overblown for what it tries to do. At least Daniel Day-Lewis is exceptional as Lincoln, presenting a solid portrayal that manages to combine both Lincoln’s historical importance with a sense of the man behind the myth.  (The supporting cast is also very strong, with special mention to Tommy Lee Jones’ Thaddeus Stevens)  Still, Lincoln fails to fully satisfying: Perhaps too long, perhaps too leisurely, perhaps too ordinary for a film signed by Steven Spielberg.

The Goonies (1985)

The Goonies (1985)

(On DVD, June 2011) Never having seen The Goonies (I know, I know…), I can’t say for sure if the film holds up for those with fond memories of the original.  But seen fresh, the film still has a lot of fun and narrative energy.  Sure, the kid actors often overact: Corey Feldman, in particular, seems to be mugging for the camera over and above what a motor-mouth should.  The acting is broad and unsubtle: there’s little naturalism in how the characters are portrayed.  But up to a certain point, that’s part of the charm: The Goonies is recognizably an early-teen fantasy of adventure and action: in-between wacky inventions, ingenious traps, first kisses, sibling tension, silly criminals and treasure maps, the film aims square at boys and girls and succeeds in portraying the kind of adventure many wished for in late grade school.  As a collaboration between producer Steven Spielberg, writer Chris Columbus and director Richard Donner, The Goonies is also a powerhouse of talents who were at their mid-eighties peak: all would go on to make other things, but their reputation would hinge heavily on this film.  Even from the first snappy minutes, it’s easy to see how everything clicks in this film.  Not every sequence and plot elements works as well (I’m not so fond of Sloth, nor the various plot tricks), but even a quarter of a century later, the pacing is fairly good, the atmosphere between the kids is credible and the spirit of adventure rarely flags.  There’s an added bonus in seeing familiar actors in younger roles, from Sean Astin to Josh Brolin to Joe Pantoliano.  The DVD does justice to the film, with great picture quality and extensive supplements ranging from a superlative audio/video commentary to a few featurettes about the making of The Goonies.  I’m probably one of the last kids of the eighties to see this film, but the wait has been worth it.

Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull (2008)

Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull (2008)

(In theaters, May 2008) No movie could match the expectations regarding the further adventures of a now-archetypal hero. The most this fourth entry could do was to avoid disaster, and that’s generally what Spielberg and the gang manages to do here: Among other smart moves, they acknowledge the age of the character but doesn’t makes it a target of easy jokes, they adapt the tone to fit the fifties-setting of the story and they wink at the other films without drawing too much upon them. This being said, they do indulge and make some easily-avoided mistakes: The revelation of Mutt’s lineage is too obvious to be much of a shock, the film’s numerous missteps in mysticism are unnecessary (so are the gratuitous CGI groundhogs) and the film’s huge plausibility problems defy even loose pulp standards. Jones himself remains a remarkably passive protagonist, the last few minutes of the film unfolding without much participation from him. Even the thrills seem dulled: a retracting staircase sequence ends up giving the characters nothing much than a mild dunking. Yet the film itself fits with its three predecessors, never touching the superlative greatness of the first volume, but duking it out with the two others in overall ranking. It’s hardly perfect, but it ought to satisfy most even as it introduced the short-lived expression “nuking the fridge” into the vernacular.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984)

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984)

(Third viewing, On TV, August 1998) An amazing movie, and what may be my third viewing proves it: Even despite being familiar with most elements, the movie fells as fresh and exciting as the first time. The timing is impeccable, the set-pieces are fabulous, and the level of humor doesn’t flag down. Excellent fun.

(Fourth viewing, On TV, September 2016) Taken on its own, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is a better-than-average adventure: Directed with Steven Spielberg’s usual skill, it’s got original action set pieces that impress even today, genuinely funny moments, wide-screen vistas, Harrison Ford’s charm and great pacing. It’s well worth watching still. But when you set it against its predecessor or its sequel, that’s when this second Indiana Jones adventure comes in for a harsher assessment. It’s not as accomplished. There isn’t much character development. Kate Capshaw’s Willie is nowhere near as interesting as the first film’s Marion. (Heck, at times she’s straight-up irritating.) The stereotypes and jokey racism grate. There’s a much grimmer tone that doesn’t quite work as well as the alternative. There’s a five-minute stretch of possessed-Indiana that can’t end soon enough. Nazis aren’t there to be punched in the face. For all sorts of reasons, that makes Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom a significantly lesser movie than the first or third films in the series. If you want to watch it, do it separately from the other instalments, otherwise the comparison won’t be kind.

The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997)

The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997)

(In theaters, May 1997) The good news are; it’s only vaguely based on the book, it’s somewhat better than the written work and it’s got some terrific sequences in it. The bad news was expected by every single moviegoer in North America: It’s not nearly as good as the original. Some stupendous special effects (notice the “shaking camera” shots: Flawless composting!), a few exceptional action/suspense sequences (the cracking glass sequence will remain in most viewers’ memory for a long time) and a likable hero are highlights. In director Steven Spielberg’s capable hands, everyone can expect to be entertained. Unfortunately, The Lost World suffers from the same disease that will (should) make the “thrill ride”-type of movie extinct: The story thread binding the great sequences is frayed, sometimes hastily knotted together. Characters act like (literally!) idiot savant; making the same stupid mistakes, going against ten+ years of their own experience, not reacting like normal human beings would, etc… The mind wobbles at the number of incredibly easily-fixed errors in the script. (and in the direction too: Don’t gag at the brain-damaged gymnastic sequence and don’t yawn at the fifth consecutive “Dah, amazing!” close-up.) Don’t count the incoherencies; they come with such a boring regularity that you’ll soon fall asleep. Still, it’s moderately fun. The story is (in broad strokes, if not in the details) better than the original. The last act is a blast, and the preachy anti-science tone of the original is mostly gone. Not a great movie by any means, but a moderately satisfying matinee.