Duplicity

Wheeeeeeeeeeee!!!!! Let’s go for a ride! And what better way to ride than by following Clive Owen and Julia Roberts?? For those of you who think you don’t like Clive Owen, stop reading now, close the site, and never return. For those of you who think you don’t like Julia Roberts…I get it. But stick with her here. She’s all grown up now, not just a gorgeous toothy gal with great cheekbones.
This sparkling duo has some serious chemistry. It’s nice to see Jules play off a man who doesn’t seem overpowered by her (Jude Law in Closer, anyone? Puh-lease, she’d eat him alive), and Clive (also Closer, where he DID eat poor little Law alive) has the chops. In that mostly soggy film, he managed to make Ms Roberts look small and helpless. In Duplicity, he turns her into an animal.
This is a caper, one of my very favorite film genres. Think fast-paced dialogue, intrigue, and steamy off screen sex. Think Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn (Bringing up Baby, BEST), or…Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell (His Girl Friday, SO GREAT), and Barbara Stanwyck (The Lady Eve, Ball of Fire). But here, our caper is jet-set, the intrigue is multi-national, and some of the dialogue would make a lady blush. But not too pink, since it’s PG-13, but still manages to be pretty great. How does that happen???
The plot centers on a product in the works by a major toiletries company, and the race with their rival company to showcase it. The opening credits contain a hilarious slow-motion rain-soaked throwdown between the rival CEOs, played with full gonzo effect by Paul Giamatti and Tom Wilkinson.
Our lead characters, Ray and Claire, have a cute first meeting with an unfortunate end, and over the course of the movie, they will meet in a similar fashion several more times. But we quickly grock that they’re working together…or are they? See, at first meeting, she’s in the CIA and he’s deep in MI-6, so they’ve both been trained to assume they’re being played. But that’s where the snappy dialogue comes in, see? Because in the present, they’re both retired and working security at the opposing firms. With a slight caveat, being that they’re on the same side…or are they????
Even the supporting cast is super. There’s even a little True Blood reunion! Denis O’Hare, the Vampire King of Mississippi, runs Ray’s crew of wily geeks, and Carrie Preston, Arlene on the show, plays Barbara Bofferd, a hapless target of Ray’s. Giamatti, as per always, devours the screen, but he’s allowed, it’s that kind of movie.
This film is perfectly delightful. We get to look at Clive Owen (shirt open, no tie, bam!) for two hours, we get to look at Julia Roberts and her bizarre football player-looking manner of walking for two hours, we get to wake up in Rome, Dubai, and London, and spend a lot of time in New York. And we get to have a rollicking good time doing all of it. What’s better than that??

The Warriors

CAN YOU DIG IT???????? Yes, I can. But Cyrus, the asker of this question, wasn’t asking me. He was asking the gangs of New York City at the truce he pulled together that was supposed to be weapon-free. But if that went as planned, we’d have no movie. The Warriors, a total gem from 1979, is the dark and stormy tale of the title gang, falsely accused of murder, trying to make their way home without getting knocked off by their rival gangs, who have all banded together this once to wipe them out. They begin in the Bronx, at the foiled gang summit, and have to make it, any way they can, to Coney Island, slipping by their enemies, both the gangs and the police, every step of the way. Doesn’t work every time. This is dirty New York, one that has been largely wiped out in favor of towering glass and pink brick. We are treated to secret meetings under the bridge, fights (beautifully directed) in filthy bathrooms, and the most whiny-voiced gang leader of all time, The Rogues’ psychotic Luther. “Waaaarriors….come out to plaaayyyyyaaaaaayyyyy.” CREEP CITY. Upping the ante for our title boys even more is the unseen but for her mouth radio announcer who gets updates on their travails and sends them out over the airwaves so the Warriors know where they stand. The image most seared into my brain from The Warriors is the sequence that introduces us to the gangs as they approach the truce. These gangs are in full costume, be it leather vests, overalls, or baseball uniforms, bat included. There is something undeniably powerful about it, but also terrifying. Director Walter Hill has managed to combine the right amounts of stark drama and pulpy thrills into a cult favorite. Those men in the pinstripes and cleats? Those are not your friends.

Faerie Tale Theatre/The Alice Miniseries

Do you have a child? Were you once a child? Were you around in the 1980s? If so, you either know and treasure these gems, or should be ashamed not to.
This series, fully titled “Shelley Duvall’s Faerie Tale Theatre” started production in 1982 for Showtime, and continued cranking out amazing live action versions of classic faerie stories through 1987. It provided enormous entertainment for me and my parents when I was a child, when we got our hands on VHS copies of them. The series also contributed to one of the cutest stories about my childhood, in which I was asked by someone, “How does a fairytale begin?” and I responded with, “Hello, I’m Shelley Duvall.” Doesn’t get much cuter than that, folks.
Seriously, though, these tales were burned deep into my brain, and I continue to use them as reference points. They are also completely packed to the brim with celebrities, and many of my favorite memories of some of them are from this series. My first loves were Treat Williams, as the prince in The Little Mermaid, which is one of the saddest, most heart-breaking episodes here, and Christopher Reeve as the prince in Sleeping Beauty, which had me green with envy of Bernadette Peters. My first role model, in a way, was Ellen Barkin as The Princess Who Had Never Laughed, with her crooked face and pretty hair. Teri Garr as the prin-CESS (watch and understand) in The Frog Prince opposite Robin Williams made me long for a golden ball just like hers. Jeff Goldblum was the funniest Big Bad Wolf in history, scaring Billy Crystal and Fred Willard in the Three Little Pigs, and Susan Sarandon and Klaus Kinski made me and my mother weep every time we watched Beauty and the Beast.
Some other names you might recognize: Vanessa Redgrave, Vincent Price, Matthew Broderick, Alan Arkin, Jeff Bridges, Liza Minelli, Carol Kane, Mick Jagger, Gregory Hines, and so many more.
At some point, the VHS copies burned out, so I went on amazon and found the whole damned set, which I now guard with my life. Please follow suit. Your children (inner and actual) will thank you. Or just ask to borrow them. I’m willing to share.
In the same vein, check out the TV movie from 1985 of Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass, which is one of the greatest tellings of that story ever…told. What’s scarier than a Jabberwocky, not to mention Carol Channing singing about jam? And what’s better than Ringo Starr as the Mock Turtle and Sammy Davis Jr as the hookah-smoking caterpillar??? It’s 474503 times better than Tim Burton’s remake, which please remember, I did not hate.
Go relive my childhood. 

The Long, Hot Summer

We all agree that Paul Newman was one of the two most breathtakingly gorgeous men to ever walk the earth, yes? Good. The other, for those of you not in the know, was Gregory Peck. See "To Kill a Mockingbird," "Cape Fear," and "Roman Holiday" to prove it.
The set of The Long, Hot Summer is where Mr Newman met his second wife, Joanne Woodward. They went on to become one of Hollywood's longest-lasting couples, only parting when he very sadly died in 2008. So big cheers to this movie for creating big love.
The Netflix blurb for the film said "smoldering," "farmhand," and "Paul Newman," so I was a fan from the get-go. It is a mashing together of a couple of Faulkner tales, made into one pretty glorious movie. We have the glistening mansion in a tiny town in the sweltering South. We have Newman as a traveling man with a dangerous past, and Woodward as the long-suffering, unmarried daughter of her power-drunk, raging father, played by a Mr. Orson Welles, ooh la la.
Ben Quick, Newman's character, has been run out of his previous town, for reasons that will come back during the course of the film. He rangles a job at the Vernon farm, handily belonging to Mr Vernon, natch, who also owns most of the towns' businesses. There is a jealous son, a dizzy young wife, a comic relief love interest (Angela Lansbury, not 90), and the serious daughter, Clara, who rebuffs Quick's advances like has a disease.
As in all (most?) movies set in the rural South, the scenery is a character in and of itself. Huge white houses, glass porch tables laden with lemonade and iced tea, and Main Street, strewn with men in worker gear, downing beers to stay cool. It is a little bit beautiful.

127 Hours

First, let me thank the people who asked when I was going to start posting again. I took a little break, it's true, due to motivational challenges :). But having people ask about it was awesome, so hugs to you.

Yes, this is the movie about the guy who chopped his arm off. But let me be clear when I tell you that it so much more than just that. Danny Boyle, the gleefully zany director who gave us Trainspotting (perfect), 28 Days Later (perfect, too), and Slumdog Millionaire (...not perfect, but pretty great), is back, and in a whole new universe. He has moved to the American West, and taken his two favorite cinematographers with him, which is a risky move, but well worth it.
I myself have never been to Colorado, and am the first to admit that wide open spaces and vast rocky terrain are not friends of mine. The wide shots in this film confirmed my suspicions: nature is bloody terrifying.
Once again, Mr. James Franco (who I thought did a fine job at the Oscars, all you snarky-pants folks!) hauls out his soul for a part. He plays Aron Ralston, the real-life mountain-climber, mountain-biker, and general thrill-seeker who had the gall to go leaping around in a canyon without telling his mother, or anyone else, where he was going. FAIL. The first 3rd or so of the movie is just Franco going wild on a bike on the rocks, picking up a couple of cute girls (Kate Mara and Amber Tamblyn), and doing a lot of joyful shrieking. Then he gets stuck. And then things get really crazy.
Ralston's past, both far and near, is revealed to us through hazy, swift flashbacks brought on by fear and hunger. There is his childhood, spent climbing with his father (Treat Williams) and picking on his sister. There is a beautiful girl (Clemence Poesy). We watch him struggle and scream, fight for his life and grimly accept his near-certain death. We watch him check his watch, ticking away the hours, the days. The decision that he ultimately makes seems to come from pure adrenaline and an absolute refusal of defeat.
All right, let's talk about THE BIG SCENE. It is very big and very icky. It is also very short, about 2 minutes, but you feel every blessed second of it. When I saw it, I had my hands over my ears, since sounds are more revolting to me than sights. Here's a rundown of other reactions in my audience: outright screaming, knee-hugging, under-seat-hiding, gagging, and popcorn-bag-exploding. Let that be your guide.