Michael Prescott's Blog

Ten underrated movies

Here's a list of 10 movies that, in my opinion, have been insufficiently appreciated. I'm not saying they're masterpieces -- well, one or two of them may be -- but they're all well above average for films of their type, even if they don't get enough love.

Of course, opinions about movies are very subjective, so your mileage may vary considerably.

In chronological order:

1. Things to Come. (1936) This highly stylized dramatization of HG Wells' novel is certainly not for all tastes. The acting is stagy, the dialogue portentous. But the film is consistently entertaining and thought-provoking, not to mention extraordinarily ambitious -- it spans 100 years of "future history," as imagined in 1936, beginning with a prophetic depiction of London air raids, advancing to a bombed out Dark Ages (the film's most compelling segment), and concluding with a technologically sophisticated underground city erected beneath the ruins of the old order. As a humanist manifesto, Things to Come is unmatched in its vigor and scope. A recently released computer colorized version actually enhances the film.

2. The Thing from Another World. (1951) When most people mention a movie version of John W. Campbell's novella Who Goes There?, they're thinking of John Carpenter's 1982 gory special-effects extravaganza. But for my money, the first cinematic incarnation of this story is by far the best. Directed by Howard Hawks (though credited to his film editor Christian Nyby), The Thing is a fast-paced, no-nonsense sci-fi classic, peopled by believable characters spouting intelligent dialogue in Hawks' trademark rapidfire, overlapping style. Kenneth Tobey, who surely belongs on any list of the 10 Most Underrated Movie Actors, shines as a likable, competent everyman facing a threat no human being has ever seen before. Remember, "keep watching the skies!"

3. Murphy's Romance. (1985) A charming vignette of late-blooming love in a small desert town. James Garner gives probably his most winning performance as the local eccentric who finds himself falling for Sally Field. Rural life is depicted with humor and sympathy, but without excessive sentimentality. A funny, sweet, sometimes bittersweet concoction.

4. Near Dark. (1987) Decades before she won the Oscar for The Hurt Locker, Kathryn Bigelow directed this low-budget independent horror film about a teenage boy inducted into a gang of vampires. The film isn't perfect; it's a bit slow to get started, and a couple of plot developments toward the end strain credibility. But there's a lot of good stuff in here, especially an unforgettable extended scene of relentless violence in a diner. The movie combines elements of horror, action, crime drama, and even Westerns in almost seamless and highly original fashion.

5. What About Bob? (1991) Bill Murray is a hopeless neurotic; Richard Dreyfuss is a pompous psychologist; but in the course of this film, it's Murray who drives Dreyfuss crazy. The slow build of Dreyfuss's frustration and rage is just terrific, and Murray's cheerful cluelessness provides the perfect counterpoint. The ending is a little over-the-top, otherwise, it all works. And it's always good to see Julie Hagerty in anything. (Speaking of which, 1985's Lost in America is another underrated comedy.)

6. Under Siege 2: Dark Territory. (1995) Yes, I know it's a Steven Seagal movie. I know Steven Seagal can't act. I know most of his movies stink, and even the first Under Siege was only so-so at best. Nevertheless, Under Siege 2 is a very enjoyable, slick, well-crafted thriller featuring two great villains (Eric Bogosian and Everett McGill), a clever plot, exciting action, and a teenage Katherine Heigl as Seagal's niece. It's one of the few Die Hard knockoffs that actually work.

7. Rob Roy. (1995) Overshadowed by Braveheart, which came out the same year, Rob Roy is, I think, the better film. Liam Neeson and Jessica Lange are immensely appealing, the script is smart and fresh, and the climactic sword fight is the most realistic duel ever put on film. Did I mention the haunting musical score?

8. Streets of Laredo. (1995) Another James Garner effort, Streets of Laredo is the sequel to the acclaimed miniseries Lonesome Dove. I'm in the small minority who found the sequel even better than the original. True, it lacks the presence of Tommy Lee Jones and Robert Duvall, but it has a stellar cast of its own - Garner, Sissy Spacek, Sam Shepard, Ned Beatty, Wes Studi, Sonia Braga, and, in two unusual but very successful casting choices, Randy Quaid as a psychotic killer and George Carlin as an aging cowpoke. Expertly directed by Joseph Sargent, who helmed the original Taking of Pelham 1-2-3, this four-hour series captures Larry McMurtry's book in all its violence, humor, and pathos.

9. Antz. (1998) By today's standards, the computer animation in this early DreamWorks entry is fairly primitive. Still, Antz is a heck of a lot of fun, an animated comedy for grown-ups enlivened by one of the best ensembles of vocal talent ever assembled: Gene Hackman, Jennifer Lopez, Danny Glover, John Mahoney, Dan Akyroyd, Jane Curtin, Anne Bancroft, Sylvester Stallone, Sharon Stone, Christopher Walken, and above all, Woody Allen as the misfit ant Z, who is basically an insect version of every nebbish Allen ever played. Z: "I don't know, Doc. Sometimes I just feel so insignificant." Psychiatrist: "You are insignificant. You're an ant!"

10. Over the Hedge. (2006) This animated comedy, based on the popular syndicated comic strip, came and went with little fanfare. I think it's hilarious. Bruce Willis and Larry Shandling are ideally matched as the voices of rascally raccoon RJ and phlegmatic tortoise Verne. Lots of great sight gags, slapstick, and comic repartée. And you get to hear William Shatner (playing a highly dramatic possum) give his impression of a near-death experience! What more could you want?

Anybody want to chime in with underrated favorites of their own?

Here and Hereafter

Clint Eastwood has a new movie coming out called Hereafter, which deals with the topic of life after death. Michael Tymn, blogger and author of The Articulate Dead, pointed me to an interesting review of the film by John H. Foote, who has a more personal perspective on this subject than most.

Foote writes:

Two hours later [i.e., after the film had been screened], it was an audience divided. While some, like myself, liked the film and applauded Eastwood’s daring for once again stepping outside his comfort zone, many wondered: Just what was Eastwood thinking in making a metaphysical study that feels so much like a European film?

“Hereafter” is a handsomely [made] film about the question of an afterlife. It has a deeper meaning for me perhaps as nine years ago I was in a near fatal car accident, and spent three weeks in a coma in the intensive care unit of Toronto's famous Sunnybrook Hospital. While unconcious for that time I saw things as real to me as the people on the street I see every day, as true to me as my wife and kids, and I cannot to this day discuss the matter without weeping, or explain entirely what happened to me.

The doctors told me it was a combination of the intense pain and the morphine. Maybe, but how did these, visions I suppose attach themselves so powerfully to my soul, to my mind? To this day the memory of the visions haunts me, and thus I believe we go somewhere after this life, though I don’t know where.

Eastwood's daring, meditative film explores that, yes, perhaps there is something that comes after, and there are people who have been given connections to the dead.

Singin' those Avatar blues

Boy, was I wrong about Avatar's box office performance. I never thought a CG epic about big blue aliens would garner such huge grosses. The film is now on track to be at least the #2 commercial hit of all time (although if the numbers were adjusted for inflation, it would rank much lower).

I still haven't seen it, and really don't care much about it, but today I came across an interesting news story with a possible NDE connection. It seems that some fans of the film become deeply depressed after seeing it, because they long to return to the immersive, beauteous world of Pandora.

From the article:

"I wasn't depressed myself. In fact the movie made me happy ," [a Web site administrator] said. "But I can understand why it made people depressed. The movie was so beautiful and it showed something we don't have here on Earth. I think people saw we could be living in a completely different world and that caused them to be depressed."

A post by a user called Elequin expresses an almost obsessive relationship with the film.

"That's all I have been doing as of late, searching the Internet for more info about 'Avatar.' I guess that helps. It's so hard I can't force myself to think that it's just a movie, and to get over it, that living like the Na'vi will never happen. I think I need a rebound movie," Elequin posted.

A user named Mike wrote on the fan Web site "Naviblue" that he contemplated suicide after seeing the movie.

"Ever since I went to see 'Avatar' I have been depressed. Watching the wonderful world of Pandora and all the Na'vi made me want to be one of them. I can't stop thinking about all the things that happened in the film and all of the tears and shivers I got from it," Mike posted. "I even contemplate suicide thinking that if I do it I will be rebirthed in a world similar to Pandora and that everything is the same as in 'Avatar.' "

Other fans have expressed feelings of disgust with the human race and disengagement with reality.

Sound familiar? It reminds me of the emotions often reported by near-death experiencers, who find themselves longing for a beautiful, ethereal world that puts Earth to shame, while feeling disconnected from their everyday lives.

Of course, all this says nothing about the veridicality of such experiences. Avatar is a fantasy, after all. One might argue that its powerful emotional impact on viewers shows that the NDE, for all its emotional effect, is only a fantasy, as well.

Alternatively, one might argue that the film deeply touches some people precisely because it reminds them of "the other side," recalling memories of a blissful, ecstatic experience that had previously been suppressed.

The article includes more quotes about the intense effect the movie has on some people. Check it out.

It's an interesting phenomenon, even for those of us who wouldn't know a Na'vi from a Wookie.

Travesty! Heresy! Blasphemy!

I don't want to get too carried away, but this just may be the greatest outrage in the history of the universe.

This excellent article explains why it will fail. Why it should fail. Why it must fail.

Netflix reviews (in rhyme)

King Rat is not as good as the book
but still definitely worth a look.
George Segal plays his part astutely.
He looks much different in Just Shoot Me.

The Dark Knight,
though overrated,
is pretty tight.
I didn't hate it.

Wanted is bad and really cruel and sick.
Angelina looks weirdly bulimic.

300 is a zero.
I prefer realistic heroes.
The Spartans' stand was bold enough
without that dumb comic-book stuff.
Note to those who disagree:
No elephants fought at Thermopylae.
If a stirring account is what you desire,
Read Stephen Pressfield's Gates of Fire.

The House Bunny
isn't funny.

3:10 to Yuma (2007 edition)
doesn't equal the '57 rendition.
Peter Fonda's gutshot
and quickly heals? 
Sorry, that's not
remotely real.
Check out the original oater.
Glenn Ford's never been better.

Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah:
Giant Monsters All Out Attack
has its moments but sadly
the plot goes badly
and madly
off-track.
What is it with these Godzilla movies?
Why do they always turn out so goofy?
We're told Godzilla trashed Tokyo before
way back in 1954.
No one doubts it; folks remember
when their city was reduced to embers.
So how come the military insists
the big green guy is "just a myth"?
Don't they recall their own history?
Things like this pose a mystery.

No Country for Old Men
is kind of weird and kind of Zen.
I liked the Coen brothers more
when they weren't angling for awards.

Huh?

I just watched No Country for Old Men. This thing won Best Picture?

I don't get it. I mean, I really don't get it. The story was disjointed and ultimately pointless, the characters were shallow, and the nihilistic tone and slow pace quickly became tedious. The ending, if you can call it an ending, didn't work on any level. In fact, the entire last half hour didn't work.

Pretentious twaddle, though nicely photographed, I will admit.

The only other 2007 Oscar nominee I've seen, Michael Clayton, is far superior in every respect.

Oh, and while we're at it, how the heck did Javier Bardem win a Best Supporting Actor statuette for his one-note, by-the-book performance as an emotionless sociopath?

Is this where we are now, culturally? Have we gone so far down the path of philosophical materialism that we can respond only to empty characters populating an empty landscape and reciting empty dialogue in a film about emptiness? Has the very idea of meaning become such an anathema to the modern soul that we now celebrate only movies that revel in the utter meaninglessness of it all?

I'm depressed.

Ratatouille

So I'm halfway through this movie Ratatouille on DVD, and I just have to ask:

Am I the only one who's a little grossed out by the idea of a rat cooking people's food?

What I learned from 300

After much delay I finally got around to watching the surprise hit movie 300, an adaptation of a Frank Miller comic book -- oops, I mean "graphic novel." 300 purports to tell the story of the battle of Thermopylae, in which a handful of Spartans and a few other Greeks held off a vastly larger invading army of Persians.

I learned a lot from this movie. For instance I learned:

Ugly people are bad. Pretty people are (mostly) good.

There are a few pretty people who are bad, but fortunately they give themselves away by sneering and grimacing all the time and by concealing the enemy's currency, with which they have been bribed, on their own person so that it can conveniently spill out at an opportune moment.

Strange rhinoceroslike beasts, war elephants, bald giants, and hunchbacked freaks played a significant role in this military engagement.

Sparta was keenly interested in freedom, justice, and logic, and deeply opposed to slavery, injustice, and mysticism.

People who practice mysticism tend to have their skin rot right off their faces, like lepers or Michael Jackson, while people who practice logic have neatly trimmed beards and six-pack abs.

The ancient Greeks waxed their chests.

The Spartans, despite being skilled warriors, fought without armor except for helmets and shields.

The Persians were heavily into body piercing, lesbianism, and androgyny. The Persian king Xerxes seems to have had a thing for circus freaks. He was also about nine feet tall.

People who are heroic tend to shout a lot. The more heroic they are, the louder they shout.

The Spartans said things like, "Freedom isn't free."

The Athenians were known for homosexual activity but the Spartans weren't.

The battle of Thermopylae, contrary to conventional wisdom, took place on a Hollywood sound stage in front of a very large greenscreen, and all the blood was digital.

I'm grateful to the movie for educating me in these matters. Before I saw it, I foolishly believed that Sparta was a rather brutal dictatorship comprised of a small warrior class and a large contingent of slaves called "helots," who worked the fields to produce food for the warriors. Having read E.R. Dodds' classic book The Greeks and the Irrational, I was also under the impression that mysticism played a very large role in ancient Greek thought -- even in Athens, sometimes romanticized as an oasis of rationalism, and certainly in Sparta, which was hardly renowned for its philosophers. I also thought that the Spartans were heavily armored from head to toe. And I had the distinct impression that homosexual relations were quite common among the Spartan military elite, who were, as the movie correctly indicates, separated from all female contact at an early age. I also would have doubted the use of war elephants at this time and place, much less rhinos, which as far as I know have never been used for military purposes anywhere.

Okay, so the movie is hardly an accurate depiction. It's not meant to be. I can live with that, although I would have greatly preferred to see a dramatization of Steven Pressfield's superb novel Gates of Fire, which tells the actual story of Thermopylae and gives us a far keener appreciation of Spartan virtues than 300 can supply. But Pressfield made the mistake of writing an actual novel, not a graphic novel. And graphic novels, aimed squarely at the 14-year-old male demographic that Hollywood covets, are the "in" thing right now. I guess if you're a 14-year-old male, the movie's stilted dialogue, one-note performances, bash-you-over-the-head narration, and over-the-top indulgence in fantasy and fetishism, not to mention its copious videogame gore, would be mighty appealing.

Alas, it's been 32 years since I was a 14-year-old boy, and I can no longer relate to this kind of entertainment. I found the film stupefyingly dull, despite its relentless spectacle -- or maybe because of its relentless spectacle, which wears out its welcome through sheer repetition.

One thing about the movie, however, did interest me, and that is the philosophical or pseudophilosophical subtext. Years ago, when I was in college and for a short time afterward, I was a big fan of Ayn Rand and a follower of her philosophy, Objectivism. Watching 300, I got a distinct whiff of Rand's influence. It's all there -- the strident speech-making, the one-dimensional "larger-than-life" heroes, the contemptible villains, the black-and-white morality that neatly divides the world into us vs. them, the paeans to "logic" and "reason" even in a context where such references make little sense, the blanket dismissal of "mysticism" as something subhuman which is practiced only by subhumans, the equation of good looks with virtue, the equation of unattractiveness with vice, the oversimplified view of complex historical situations, the whole comic book style.* Rand's novels always were more like Classic Comics than genuine literature. And like 300, they appeal primarily to teenage boys.

I know nothing about Frank Miller, but I would bet that he's an Objectivist or at least somebody strongly influenced by Rand. And the movie's director, Zack Snyder, seems to be on the same wavelength. Right now, a movie version of Rand's magnum opus Atlas Shrugged is in development. The director currently attached to the project is Vadim Perelman, whose sole previous credit is the slow-paced, rather naturalistic film The House of Sand and Fog. I think the producers are missing an opportunity. They ought to get Zack Snyder -- or, what the hell, even Frank Miller himself. Somebody possessed of the comic book sensibility that animates 300 might actually be able to make a watchable movie out of Atlas.

Especially if they put in some war elephants.

---

*And yes, even the adulation of sacrifice. Rand's philosophy was pro-selfishness and anti-sacrifice, but there is a rich vein of heroic martyrdom running through her fiction, as I discussed here.

Chair sex

Here's a short film that gives new meaning to the term "easy chair."

Not suitable for children.

More twisted videos here, including a "Making of ..." film about the above short, which is quite entertaining in itself.

Hat tip: the sick minds at Ace of Spades.

Bond, old and new

Something bothered me about Casino Royale, the newest James Bond film, in which Bond is reinvented as a rough-edged professional assassin. I liked the film, thought it was well made, found it more intelligent than most Bonds, and yet ...

Last night I watched the 1999 Bond adventure The World Is Not Enough, an above-average Pierce Brosnan outing. By comparison with Casino Royale, the Brosnan film is pretty silly.  There is no serious attempt at characterization. The stunts and action sequences are wildly over the top. Denise Richardson plays a nuclear physicist!

And yet ...

The World Is Not Enough was light, escapist entertainment. There were the usual Bond double entendres, often wince-inducing, but sometimes funny. There was an air of goodnaturedness about the movie - it took itself only semi-seriously, and invited us in on the joke. It wasn't overtly campy like the Roger Moore movies (the nadir of Bond, in my opinion), but it wasn't trying too hard to be "realistic," either.

It was fun.

And Casino Royale? I don't know if "fun" is the word I'd use to describe a movie in which Bond is strapped naked to a chair and has his testicles beaten until he starts crying ...  a movie in which Bond's first kill involves drowning a man in a sink in a public restroom ... a movie so "gritty" and "dark" and "realistic" that the few lighter touches seem woefully out of place.

Yes, Casino Royale is, objectively, the better movie of the two. I think there's no doubt of that. But the Bond franchise was the last action-adventure series that had not yielded to the "grim and gritty" school of filmmaking, preferring to remain anchored in the colorful, exotic, half-serious, half-sardonic world of early Bond films like Dr. No, Goldfinger, and Thunderball.

Now that world is gone, and we have yet another Bourne Supremacy-style franchise, another reminder of how tough and violent and amoral our modern life can be. But do we need another reminder?

In The World Is Not Enough, Bond brings Moneypenny a present - a cigar in a metal holder, which looks suspicipusly like a dildo. "I know just where I'll put it," Moneypenny says provocatively, then tosses it in a wastebasket. "Ah, Moneypenny," Bond sighs, "that's the story of our relationship. Close, but no cigar."

Silly? Sure. But it made me smile.

I have a feeling I won't be smiling much at the new, "improved" James Bond.