Showing posts with label action. Show all posts
Showing posts with label action. Show all posts

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Taking a Roller-Coaster Ride With Indiana Jones



Marion (Karen Allen): You're not the man I knew 10 years ago.

Indiana (Harrison Ford): It's not the years, honey. It's the mileage.

When George Lucas co–wrote "Raiders of the Lost Ark," which premiered on this date in 1981, his intention was to re–create the movie serials of the 1930s and 1940s.

That was before my time, but my parents used to watch the movie serials when they were children, and I gathered from their reaction to the movie that Lucas succeeded in his objective.

Film critic Roger Ebert apparently agreed with them, even though he was born in 1942. Movie serials continued to be made into the early 1950s so he was probably old enough to witness the end of that era — but certainly not its heyday. Nevertheless, his homage to the serials was as entertaining as it could be. I watched it again recently, and I probably enjoyed it as much as I did the first time I saw it.

Ebert wrote nearly 20 years after its debut that the movie "plays like an anthology of the best parts from all the Saturday matinee serials ever made," but he added that "I haven't seen much discussion of the movie's other driving theme, (director Steven) Spielberg's feelings about the Nazis."

Ebert went on to observe that Spielberg gave us his adult treatment of the Holocaust in movies like "Schindler's List," but it was Spielberg's inner teenager who made "Raiders of the Lost Ark."

It was full of edge–of–your–seat adventures from Nepal to Cairo with snakes, spiders, explosions, Nazis — and Karen Allen, who played Ford's sidekick, his best of the series, in my opinion. And it had moments that one remembers years after seeing them — like the iconic scene at the beginning of the movie in which Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford) outran the big ball.

That was in the first seven minutes. After that, no one should have had any doubt about what to expect in the next hour and a half. And what followed was most of the stuff that tends to appeal to teenage boys — primarily action and pretty girls.

It was a roller–coaster ride, from one adventure to the next, each one loosely connected to the central theme of the race between the Nazis and the good guys to find the Ark of the Covenant.

Perhaps the most amazing thing about it was that it worked.

I have seen only a few original serial episodes, but that was probably enough to get a good idea what the serials were like, and my impression was that they were, in a word, preposterous.

I suppose they had to be. The plot, as it were, existed solely to get the hero into some kind of predicament so, no matter how unlikely the premise might be, the viewer would accept it — it was the price that had to be paid to see the hero hanging from a cliff by his fingernails or something like that.

(It is much like the strategy my journalism professors encouraged for prodding a reader to read one's story all the way through. Newspaper readers, we were told then, give — on average — less than half an hour to the daily newspaper, and with so many news sources available today I am sure the average is much lower now. Most newspaper readers, our professors told us, skim the headlines and read the first paragraph or two of stories with headlines that intrigue them.

(My professors told us never to reveal everything we knew about a story in the first paragraph — or the second or the third ... Instead, we should give just enough information for the reader to want to be hungry for more and continue to the next paragraph — and the next and the next. Before they knew it, the readers had read the entire story — even if that had not been their original intention. Well, that was how it was supposed to work. And sometimes I guess it did — or does.)

And, too, I suppose that the serials seem more preposterous to me in 2016 than they did to someone in 1946 because moviemaking technology is so much better now with computer–generated graphics and all that stuff that didn't exist during the serials' heyday. It can make even the most preposterous plot seem plausible.

And yet ...

Was it so implausible to think that the Nazis would devote all those resources to locating a biblical artifact that may or may not have existed outside of the pages of the Bible?

After all, it is pretty well known that the Nazis sought supernatural support and justification for their cause — and, according to legend, any army that possessed the Ark was invincible. Could the Nazis have resisted such a concept?

It is beyond doubt that the Nazis actively sought any advantage they could get in World War II. The prophecies of Nostradamus, for example, were used as propaganda tools, and we know the Nazis were in a race with the West to develop a nuclear weapon.

Is it so far–fetched to think they might have been looking for the Ark, just as Spielberg and Lucas suggested?

I guess that is a matter of opinion. But the truth of the story was mostly irrelevant because, as Ebert noted, it was "just plain fun" — whether you were a teenage boy or not.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

The Mysteries of Ice Station Zebra



David Jones (Patrick McGoohan): I once killed a man called Jones. Though not for that reason, of course.

I once heard "Ice Station Zebra," which premiered on this day in 1968, described as the ultimate Saturday afternoon movie.

And that's probably a pretty good description. It was a good action–thrilller, ideal for watching in a dark theater on a Saturday afternoon — even if it was difficult at times to follow the cloak–and–daggeresque Cold War plot.

Rock Hudson played the commander of a nuclear submarine who was ordered to rescue British personnel at a weather station in the Arctic — but that was really the cover for a classified mission of which only a mysterious Mr. Jones (played by Patrick McGoohan) knew the details.

Mr. Jones was one of three mysterious passengers on the sub. The other two were an anti–Soviet Russian defector (Ernest Borgnine) and the leader of a unit of Marines assigned to the mission (Jim Brown — that's right, the same Jim Brown who terrorized NFL defenses for years). At times, the dialogue crackled.

Inevitably, there were conflicts, even before the submarine experienced a mishap with the torpedo tube that left one man dead and the rest of the crew starting to comprehend what was going on. The crew didn't know the details, of course, but, by that point in the story, they had seen enough to connect some of the dots.

I don't know if the special effects would be terribly impressive to modern viewers, but, it seems to me, the effects were pretty good for the time. I wasn't the only one who thought so. Apparently, they were good enough to earn an Oscar nomination for visual effects — although not good enough to win.

In fact, for me, the special effects were the true stars of the show. I know they weren't as good as the special effects today, but, as I say, they were good for that time.

That doesn't mean I didn't think the actors did a pretty good job. And the story itself was pretty good. Turned out, both the Soviets and the Americans wanted what was on a satellite that landed near Ice Station Zebra. Both sides not only wanted what was on the satellite but also to prevent the other side from getting it. That latter objective may have had more importance than the former.

Thus, it was a problem for the crew of the submarine when they reached Ice Station Zebra, and the thing for which they had been sent was nowhere to be seen. At that point, the mysterious Mr. Jones and the other two nearly equally mysterious passengers revealed their murderous true colors.

Hudson's character was constantly caught between the agendas of the other three, but, after the film's intermission, McGoohan filled Hudson in on the details — well, some of them.

I have to think that the last half of the movie was weaker than the first. Supposedly, the reclusive Howard Hughes watched "Ice Station Zebra" over and over in the last years of his life, and, given the movie's early strengths, it isn't difficult to see the attraction.

(And, come to think of it, southern Nevada probably was a pretty good place to repeatedly watch a movie set in the Arctic.)

There was a lot of fighting in the second half of the movie, and some of the international characters wound up dead, which set up an ironic conclusion, in which Hudson's crew proceeded with their rescue mission while a news story on a teletype machine hailed it as an example of cooperation between West and East.

I never read Alistair MacLean's novel, upon which the movie was based, but I've heard that the film was mostly true to its source material — which was similar to two real–life events from the late 1950s. The primary differences apparently were the names of the submarine and Hudson's and McGoohan's characters' names.

Critic Roger Ebert didn't care for "Ice Station Zebra." He called it "a dull, stupid movie" and expressed disappointment in the special effects.

To each his own, I suppose. Director John Carpenter called it a "guilty pleasure."

Tuesday, July 09, 2013

The First Voyage of the Pirates of the Caribbean



"If you were waiting for the opportune moment, that was it."

Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp)

It seems to me that one of the best backdrops for a summer blockbuster has to be a movie that is set on or near water — or anything that one might perceive to be cooling and refreshing.

One of the big attractions of movies is the promise of escapism, right? Usually, you escape through a well–acted, intriguing story — but, no matter how intriguing the story or how top notch the acting may be, who wants to watch a movie that is set in the kind of environment you left behind when you entered the theater?

That isn't a moviegoer's only consideration, of course, but I'm sure that plays a role. "The Shining," after all, took place in a remote resort in Colorado in winter — but the movie was released in late spring. "Jaws" — if not the first summer blockbuster, certainly the first mega blockbuster — came out in late June. And "Lawrence of Arabia" — which was, of course, set in the desert — was released a couple of weeks before Christmas.

I remember, in my childhood, that the movies I usually enjoyed the most were the ones in climates that were opposite whatever prevailed outside. There were a few exceptions to that, but the best summer movies were, as I say, set on or near water or in winter — or anything else that made me feel cooler — which included, I suppose, any movie that could send a good chill down your spine.

Anyway, 10 years ago, "Pirates of the Caribbean" made its debut as a movie. One had to wonder why it took so long.

Pirates of the Caribbean was the last Disneyland attraction that Walt Disney himself helped design. It was unveiled at Disneyland in California in the late 1960s — nearly four decades before the movie version hit the theaters. In the interim, three other versions of the ride were designed and introduced at Disney theme parks around the world.

For modern moviegoers, that's the reverse of the accepted procedure. Usually, there is a hit movie first, and it is followed by an amusement park attraction.

In this case more than a couple of generations came to Disneyland and rode the ride before a movie with the same name appeared in movie theaters.

Well, that is a little misleading, I suppose. It was called "Pirates of the Caribbean" in print and general conversation, but that is really the name of the four–film franchise. The title of each was followed by a colon and the name of that particular episode in the story. "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl" is the actual name of the movie that premiered 10 years ago today.

I visited Disneyland once when I was about 15. I don't specifically remember the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, but there were times when the movie seemed like an animated version of a Disneyland ride — if only because there was a certain similarity between all of the rides.

No matter.

"Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl" was swashbuckling good summer fun. Some effects almost certainly could not have been achieved when Disney helped design the original ride in the mid–'60s; others probably were possible, but they would have seemed more primitive if they had been attempted earlier than they were.

The central character of this and all subsequent "Pirates of the Caribbean" flicks was Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp), a rather flamboyant character who, although a pirate, avoided all fights unless his participation was absolutely necessary. Depp truly made the role his own. (Imagine a combination of Keith Richards — according to Depp, the inspiration for his performance — and Depp's earlier portrayal of Hunter S. Thompson.)

(The only other actor I felt could have been as over the top as the role required was Crispin Glover, the dorky father from "Back to the Future" and the title character in the remake of "Willard." Glover brought enough eccentricity to any such part that he played, but I thought Depp did quite well.)

But Depp wasn't the star of "Pirates of the Caribbean." He was entertaining enough, but I've seen several of his movie performances that were better. The real star of the movie, I felt, was its special effects — the animated skeletons and all that stuff.

Probably the greatest drawback to this movie, I thought, was its length, nearly 2¼ hours. As it lurched to its conclusion, I felt that the moviemakers had tried to do too much. I noticed at the time that some of the children in the audience got antsy even though the movie had 20, even 30 minutes remaining.

I happened to catch this movie again on cable a month or two ago, and I found myself wondering, as I watched, about the fates of child stars, one of whom was featured briefly.

Most moviegoers probably already were familiar with Keira Knightley, who was the lead actress. Knightley, who was appearing in TV commercials and making guest appearances on TV shows when she was a child, made her movie debut in "Star Wars Episode I" and her first extended film appearance a couple of years later.

She was already familiar, to a certain extent, to viewers, but the young version of her character was played by Lucinda Dryzek, who was not yet 12 when this movie premiered.

It was a rare movie appearance for Dryzek, who has made a career of TV roles. In her native Britain, she is mostly known in recent years for her ongoing part in a BBC series, Life of Riley.

It's good to see a child star make a successful transition to more adult roles, especially given the kinds of problems many former child stars have had.

Monday, November 07, 2011

Experiencing Something Wild



When I was working for the Arkansas Gazette, there were part–timers who worked in the office, doing clerical things like sorting and filing and stuff like that.

For a time in 1986, there was a young fellow who worked part time for the Gazette and part time for a video rental outlet.

He had something of a knack for identifying the kinds of movies that everyone on the staff would like. Occasionally, he would bring in video tapes for us to take home and view — free of charge.

I must admit, I liked the arrangement.

Anyway, one day he came into the office and handed me a video tape. It was of "Something Wild." I had never heard of it, and I told him so.

"Just watch it," he told me. "I watched it last night. I think you'll like it."

So I took it home and watched it — in spite of the fact that I didn't recognize a name in it.

That certainly wouldn't be the case today.

The movie was directed by Jonathan Demme, who had received some attention up to that time but really came into prominence five years later when he won an Oscar for directing "The Silence of the Lambs."

Jeff Daniels had been in only a handful of movies by 1986, but he appeared to be an up–and–comer — as, indeed, he was. I always felt one of his best performances was in Woody Allen's "The Purple Rose of Cairo," which actually came out the year before "Something Wild," but I've been impressed with many thing he has done since.

He wasn't merely one of the stars of "Dumb and Dumber."

"Something Wild" was almost the debut of supporting actor Ray Liotta. He became much more familiar to audiences a few years later through his roles in "Field of Dreams" and "Goodfellas."

I guess Melanie Griffith, daughter of Tippi Hedren, was the most veteran member of the bunch. Not yet 30, she had been in films since she was 14 — and, based on the stories that have been told about her and the kinds of movies in which she appeared, I'd say that "Something Wild" could have been the title of the story of her life up to that point.

As far as I know, it was not, in any way, autobiographical.

Griffith played a — for lack of a better term — wild child who spotted Daniels having lunch in a cafe. When he left without paying, she confronted him — and, ultimately, shanghaied him, taking him on a bizarre road trip.

A somewhat prim and proper sort, Daniels' character was attracted to Griffith's free persona, and, for a time, the film was kind of a fantasy tale of an improbable coupling that took the two of them on an adventure. But the story quickly became more menacing as Griffith's abusive husband, played by Liotta, tracked her down at her high school reunion.

Throwing caution to the wind, Daniels came to Griffith's defense, and the unlikely love story was complete.

It was something different. Definitely something unusual.

It was something wild.