eglynn Reviews

The Major and the Minor (1942)

Major Comedy

[10/10 · 29 October 2002]

The greatest trick this movie pulls off is in fooling its audience that it is a piece of fluff. Admittedly, it is to a certain extent, but nobody is more conscious of the limitations of the genre than the makers of this film themselves. The satire on the mistaken identity disaster is so well done here that every scene contains valuable clues and cinematic winks at the viewer. Is it plausible that a 30 year old woman can pull off acting like a 12 year old? The initial response is no, which Billy Wilder and Ginger Rogers reinforce through the disconnect between Rogers' SuSu and the precocious reality of the adolescent set. The pedophilic subtext of the film seems to be a remarkable case of flipping the proverbial bird to the often restrictive framework of the romantic comedy genre. Rogers' inability to escape predatory advances - whether it be by grownups in the big city or 13 year old military school boys - is an ironic point well made by Wilder; this film indeed seems an exploration of extreme fate. Take the inevitable wedding of Pamela that occurs regardless of the identity of the groom, or the fact that on every date Rogers is subjected to go on with a Cadet, it becomes the exact same date. More to the point, the connection between Ray Milland's Major Kirby and Rogers does not change as they meet with Rogers taking on three separate incarnations. The film is indeed deceptively smart; because it refuses to beat you over the head with the fact, it is still absolutely unassuming and lovable.

Vertigo (1958)

Disappointed in the Disappointed

[18 July 2002]

More admissions: I have commented on this film before. My opinion has not changed, but it is consistently reinforced each time I read a comment criticizing an aspect of the film. You don't like it? Fair enough. I hate a lot of movies. What makes me feel the urge to stand on my amateur film reviewer soapbox is when people who don't like the film try to justify their opinions by saying something was done wrong in the filmmaking. Sorry, I'll say it again, the subjective views may all differ, but objectively speaking, there are no technical or logical flaws in the film that I have caught in the 40 or so times I've seen this (save for the one unresolved eccentricity I saw pointed out in an earlier comment with regard to the bizarre old lady at the McKittrick Hotel. Nevertheless, I see this as another Hitchcock Macguffin, or red herring, that need not necessarily be resolved in order to seal an already cohesive plot. But...I digress). Since my last review, I have read more pans of Kim Novak's acting, which are misguided. She is an actress, who in the film, plays a smalltown woman, who is coerced into an acting job. Therefore, a slick and subtle performance at all times would be out of place. Think this is too long? That the silent scenes of Scottie trailing Madeline are cutting room floor shots that snuck in due to careless editing? Yeah, sure, but they also create an internalized story, bringing the true focus to the emotional and psychological work that goes into the detective's life. It sets a mood, for lack of a more poetic term, that remains one of Hitchcock's best techniques: uncertainty.

I shrieked out loud (serves me right for doing this at work) when I read the phrase "worthy of a B Movie" in reference to Scottie's (pardon the paraphrasing) sudden falling out of love with the woman who ruined his life and put him in an asylum. There was nothing in the movie's conclusion that suggested Scottie had fallen out of love with Madeline. This is a man who has found out that the great tragedy of his life was no accident, but the result of careful conspiracy, among the instigators being the woman he loved. If there is something campy about going crazy after losing your deepest love to suicide (or so you think) and being largely blamed afterward (I reference the post-fall courtroom scene), it is lost on me. If the B Movie hokiness cited earlier was with regard to Scottie getting a little frustrated with Judy when he found out she done him wrong, I still fail to see the point. We've watched the guy embark down an insanity spiral for 2 hours by that point; it fits perfectly. Plus, on a side note, Kim Novak could probably have worked all 86 fabulous pounds of Jimmy Stewart in a fight. This is about moral decay, about how love can be truly blinding (blinding, as in, not being able to clearly see brilliant cinematic triumph, wink wink), and obsessions. The rest is incidental information used to make a beautiful if utterly dark story; the horrifying ending only serves to make the love story and its evanescence more haunting and poignant. Some of us have obsessions, and they make us a little goofy. I have one I'll confess, myself: "Vertigo".

Vertigo (1958)

ADD patients need not apply

[23 April 2002]

There is one reason to dislike this film. Okay there are several reasons, but they all stem from one essential characteristic:laziness. I have read some positively mind-boggling critiques of "Vertigo" and all seem to illustrate nothing but the shallowness of the viewer who is not willing to devote the attention and time that Hitchcock requires of his audience. If you cannot sit still for two hours and eight minutes, if "Bill and Ted's" was the best mental exercise you've endured in the cinematic world, yeah, you will have a problem with "Vertigo"; you simply won't get it. I recognize that opinions are objective. My opinion that this is the single greatest film of all time is no exception. However, some things are objective, and I feel should be stated for the record, on behalf of those unfortunate enough to be swayed by some of the inconsistent, flawed criticisms offered here. Objective: All casting in this film was deliberate. I promise, no actor wandered into a frame and slipped past Hitchcock's eye, thus ruining his creative vision. Novak has received some criticism for playing her part with a lack of definition or confidence exemplified by revered hallmarks of the genre such as Katharine Hepburn. This is not because she doesn't know what she is doing. Her character is manipulated by the people around her and made a pawn. A bold performance would only undermine the heavy message of moral decay. I submit, she - in all her doubt, and conflicted insecurity - is perfect. I read a review that bemoaned the casting of Scottie for not being "Jimmy Stewart-esque". Good God, are you serious? What better figure than America's everyman to embody the broken spirit of a man taken over by fantasy un-checked? Cast anybody else, and the tragedy is instantly removed from the story because if even Jimmy Stewart is capable of falling into the moral downward spiral... Objective: This plot has no logical flaws. If you think it does, watch it again and you will see you missed something. Try me. Subjective: This is physically the most stunningly beautiful film ever made. Look at the Golden Gate towering over Madeline in all her emotional tininess, the Giant Redwoods cross-sectioned so as to belie the inconsequentiality of these two sinners over time and space, the Missions invoking the imagery of conquest and ethical shades of gray, gray like the San Francisco fog...But, I digress. Back to: Objective: This is a film about circles, spirals, and, ahem, Vertigo, if you will. Moral dizziness. Geographic roundabouts (they go all around San Francisco, up and down). Indecision, illustrated in the form of head-spinning torment. Last, the merry-go-round of the double. I would list all the pairs in this film, but I'm working with a word limit here. Suffice to say, this is the greatest conference of the doubles since that English guy did "A Comedy of Errors". Why the double? The existence of a double creates the possibility for a do-over (hence, recurrence as another Hitchcockian circle). But this is not "Groundhog Day". Hitchcock's circuit is one of sealed fate. They do not learn, they just descend. What we have is a story concerned with falling and spinning. The metaphysical ghost world and existential agony of lost love intertwine in a realm made visible by the green lights of the Empire Hotel. Indeed we are left at the end with only a faint hope that upon transcending the spiral, the two lines may cross in a world un-governed by the rules of gravity. Getting to melodramatic for ya? Apologies, I too am subject to my obsessions and thus a little deterioration here and there.

Picnic (1955)

soul-searching at its best

[10/10 · 19 April 2002]

It pains me to see people miss Picnic's message; as people hastily label it as 'outdated' or flawed in any way, they neglect the fact that what Inge, Logan, and the cast have offered us is indeed universal. Set on Labor Day weekend in Middle America, this is a film about the bittersweet irony of living in a world governed by rules and time. The characters in Picnic is confronted by a demon that, if not dealt with appropriately, serves to consume them and ensure that they become the thing they most fear. In a desperate search to find love, Rosemary (Rosalind Russell) alienates people to the extent that she seems increasingly destined to be alone. Admired throughout the town for her beauty, Madge (Kim Novak), in her unwillingness or inability to assert herself, is trapped inside her pretty face and finds she cannot build a character to support it. Her younger sister Millie (Susan Strasberg) is devoted to intellectual pursuit but finds her intellectual superiority complex serves to limit her peer group and rob her of her childhood. She is seen throughout the film sneaking cigarettes, and at one point steals a swig of whiskey, all in a rather revealing display of her conflict with regards to her place in the transition from youth to adulthood. Mrs Owens (Betty Field), having been left by her husband presumably for a younger woman, attempts to force Madge into an early marriage to a rich man so that she will not face the same anguish, but her dominating insistence on Madge's beauty as her chief asset is what eventually drives her away with little regret. This truly is the story of the varying ways people create and deal with solitude. Each character undergoes the struggle we all must to find a person beneath the masks we hide behind. It is a study of the irony of the evanescence of happiness - at this Labor Day picnic that is the great joyful gathering of the entire town, each of our main characters seeks their own escape. The emotional rawness of the end of Summer is exposed and serves as the perfect time for seasonal as well as personal transition. They are all, in effect, living parts of a sunset, as described by Russell in perhaps the most significant examination of time in the film. Holden's character is unique in that it is a true testament to the everyman and the power of chance. His arrival in this town is in fact the catalyst for reflection and action, and he shakes things up without having any inherent wisdom or inspiration (he is actually something of a moron, thus his ability to make things happen is so much more intriguing). That this is a passionate and beautifully acted (the occasional vacancy and slowness only a reinforcement of the emotional stagnancy Logan intends to have us defeat) love story with a heart-wrenchingly beautiful theme song is only icing on the cake.