Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

Miracle on 34th Street speaks to the magic of the holiday season.  This time around, the film also smacked of the rampant overspending and greed that comes with Christmas’ tidings of joy.

I think every year I watch some part of this film. Perhaps, I don’t always write about it because perhaps I don’t watch the whole thing. Having seen it at least 20 times, over the past 25 years, there is little new to discover. It’s merely a traditional comfort, nestled between the Grinch and Linus VanPelt’s monlogue about the true meaning of Christmas.

This however has been the first time I’ve watch Miracle on 34th Street since I bought a house and had to pay a mortgage. It’s also being played during the middle of a housing crisis in America. Is this why the ending to the film suddenly feels so ridiculous?

Our little disbeliever pouts because Santa didn’t bring her what she wanted. Everyone else in New York city is convinced that Mr. Kringle is in fact Santa Claus, but little Susan Walker ain’t buying it. Why? Because Santa didn’t get her the house she asked for. Of course, he hasn’t forgotten Susan. On her way home Susan spots the house of her dreams. The little child runs into the house, which just happens to be for sale. Her mother and the gentleman who has been trying to get mom under the mistletoe run after her. Sure enough, this is THE house. The one Susan asked Santa to get her. His cane is even resting next to the fire place. Is it a coincidence or a sign?

Wait! Wait! Sign or no sign. It’s a house! This child hasn’t asked for a doll house. No, she wants the real deal. She’s no fool. She wants property. What ever happened to a pony? Whatever happened to common sense? The adults actual considering purchasing the place. What does this teach the child?

I’m all for magic, but this is madness.

Amazing Grace (2006)

The film is neither amazing nor does it possess any grace. Simply put, the film reduces Britain’s abolitionist movement to one man and one song. As if it were that simple. Worse yet, the tale of William Wilburforce’s crusade to ban the slave trade across the British Empire plays out amongst the hokiest of Hollywood cliches. Must all great men be inspired by beautiful women? By film’s end Amazing Grace feels like Braveheart sans warfare. That’s not a compliment.

What’s so wrong with the film?

Let’s break it down. First off, this is a film about the horrors of slavery. Yet, we are never shown these horrors. Outside of one feverdream where Wilburforce envisions a young black male – more shadow than human – being consumed by the flames of a sugar refinery fire. Being of a dream, the moment is already disconnected from reality. The fiery imagery and the horrible special effect of this soul being lost to the flames fails to terrify. It’s actually laughable. This however, is the extent to which director Michael Apted feels he should show what slavery was like. Occasionally, characters read letters or retell what they’ve seen, but cinema is about images and those images have power. So, where the heck are the images of slavery?

There aren’t any because there don’t need to be anyone. Today, we are enlightened and we all know slavery is wrong. This knowledge gives us comfort because it reduces the film to Us vs. Them. Not approving of slavery, we can fight the good fight right along with William Wilburforce and feel ever the better for being a good guy, right there with him. We can tell ourselves that were we living during that era, we too would have said no to the slave trade.

That’s total hogwash. Guys like Wilburforce are rare, as are those that helped him see the light. And yes, the pun is intended, as it were Quakers who really helped bring about the change, but they are reduced to shadowy, unexplained, strangers. If Michael Apted had any balls as a filmmaker he’d have presented the story in such a way that we might have actually sided with those that opposed Wilburforce. Apted might have taken this as an opportunity to show how a majority of people can back something that in hindsight appears so blatantly heinous and morally wrong. That or he might have managed to comment on how people today are still fighting slavery issues, be them physical or economical. Rather than pay mere lip service to the fact that slavery exists because of economical greed, Apted might have really shown how much of Britain and even America’s Empires have been built with the slave labor of others and how by giving up this cheap labor they are forced to now ship there dirty work out to other countries who care less about human rights. But, he didn’t do any of these things because when it comes down to it, Michael Apted is chickenhearted. He’s no William Wilburforce. He’s just a filmmaker transforming a heroic story into a inspirational comic book easily understood by anyone with a fourth grade education.

If you want to know how awful slavery is, go watch Addio Zio Tom. Yes, it’s an exploitation film, but you know what, slavery is exploitation. So, it’s no wonder that the horrifically graphic images in that film can turn your stomach in ways that make Roots look like a Thomas Kinkade painting. A film like that doesn’t make you feel good, but it might inspire you to not let anything like that happen again. Where as I’m sick of hearing people say that Amazing Grace is an inspiring film. How? Did it send people rushing out to protest their own countries endorsement of slave labor over seas so they could buy cheap good here at home? Did it have them writing petitions to stop torture? Were people compelled to ask their congressman why they continue to fund a phony war? Probably not. Heck, I’d be surprised if Amazing Grace even gave most white folks the courage to smile at a black stranger. All this film did was make people feel good about themselves. How selfish is that?

We don’t need this. We need films that really challenge people. One’s that use records of past heroics and civic leadership to show how today we still have issues that need to be fought for and prejudices that need to be fought against. Where is the film that questions gay marriage or lack of health care for the poor? Let’s not leave these films up to Michael Moore. Instead, let’s find a filmmaker willing to show us how cruel and ignorant we have been in the past, how we could treat each other as less than equal, or simply go along with this hate without saying anything. Let us not rest on our laurels and feel confident that if given the chance to do the right thing, we would. I look around and it’s apparent that we don’t. Just open up a newspaper if you don’t believe me.

Sacco and Vanzetti (1971)

Sometimes all it takes is an image. A man falling from a window, played on out in slow motion. His impact with the surface below is never shown, but the psychological impact of the image shakes you to the core. This images plays a pivotal role in Sacco and Vanzetti. It directly follows a black and white opening scene, shot in a lively cinema verite fashion that depicts the busting up and shutting subversive press offices. What follows is this haunting image of Andrea Salcedo – a Galleanist printer. His body drops slowly, like a piece of debris caught in the wind. The film begins.

In essence, Sacco and Vanzetti is a courtroom drama. Through flashbacks, we are told the story of how these two Italian shoemakers and possible anarchists came to be on trial for the killing of a payroll officer in South Braintree, Massachutes. It becomes quickly apparent that guilty or not a travesty of injustice is being played out as the bigoted court system looks determined to railroad the two Italian immigrants.

Just as it was in history, the two are found guilty and sentenced to death. Then, something peculiar occurs in the narrative structure of the film. The movie seemingly jumps genres and suddenly becomes a forward moving whodunit with a group of concerned lawmakers and citizens setting out to find the real murderers. Of course, time runs out, Sacco and Vanzetti are put to death, and an air of mystery lingers over their trial and their lives.

Sacco and Vanzetti is and Italian production, with obvious sympathizes towards the titular figures. Each character is given ample room, perhaps too much, to express their personal dislike for America’s capitalist attitude. Director Giuliano Montaldo allows Vanzetti to transform the witness stand into a grandstand as he espouses the pros of a socialist society. Seeing as how their fates are certain, both men haunted by that image of their colleague dropping from many flights up, one can understand why they would you the courtroom as a stage to espouse their believes. What’s harm can come of it?

If you are a left leaning liberal its hard not to agree with these two men and their idealistic views. Certainly, to a right wing conservative or a free market economist, Sacco and Vanzetti’s opinions are pure vitriol. Still, this is not a film that is going to bring together the left and the right. It is clearly targeted to those on the left; those who already sympathize with Sacco and Vanzetti. For the politically disengage or ignorant, the film plays out more like an dated Law & Order, ripped from yesterday’s headlines.

Perhaps, comparing this film to Law & Order is a bit too simple. There is clearly more at stake with this movie and a great attention to detail has been placed on the period’s costumes and production design.  If the courtroom scenes are stagy, the  re-enactments and opening sequence makes the former forgivable. Personally, I cannot forgive the Joan Baez theme song that opens the movie. A small hit, this sing-songy protest about the injustice of Sacco and Vanzetti’s trial is too folksie for a film who’s events predate the 70′s by a few decades. It feels schmaltzy and in-congruent. Whereas, the music score by Ennio Morricone makes the film worth seeking out, if only for simple aural pleasure.

Stunt Rock (1978)

I’m finding it hard to think of another film more aptly summed up by it’s promotional taglines than Stunt Rock. The trailer for the film tells you all you need to know. “It’s super human, super music, super magic, and super amazing…It’s a death wish at 120 decibels.”

True to every word, this amalgamation of stunt show, rock concert, and paper thin narrative makes for a hybrid spectacle. Created at the dawn of the home video era and at the dusk of 70′s fads like daredevil stunts and theatrical heavy metal, Stunt Rock now feels like a bygone Rosetta Stone helping to explain an era free from irony and overdosing on the spectacular.

Grant Page is an Australian stuntman and Sorcery is an over-the-top rock group. They are both real and loosely connected by a storyline that finds Page transplanted in Los Angeles working on a fictional, female police drama. When he’s not risky his life on set, Page is in the studio or backstage watching his cousin perform with Sorcery. Page’s cousin plays the part of The Prince of Darkness – a black leather clad figure that battles a Merlinesque wizard. There’s is an epic struggle between good and evil, that just happens to play out on stage as Sorcery summons up songs about magic and mysticism.

Grant Page is something of a cross between Evel Knievel and Lee Major’s character from The Fall Guy. A true daredevil, a minor celebrity, and real charmer. His death defying job and his stunning looks catch the eye of a fabricated reporter curious about what drives men like Page to risk their lives. This reporter serves as a connective thread that helps string together what is otherwise a series of stock footage segments that show Page and other men attempting daring feats. For good measure, a few minutes of the original Gone is 60 Seconds is shown to prove that stunt work is truly an art form.

Sorcery and their stage show look and sound like a template for Spinal Tap. Except, they are all too real, from the Wizard to the Prince of Darkness to the keyboard player who hides behind a glittery mask. There is not a whiff of satire to be found. The closest modern comparison to Sorcery might be The Darkness or Dragon Force. These bands might look back fondly on Sorcery and an era that allowed for imaginative, flamboyant stage shows.

Today’s audience has to watch Stunt Rock in a post-Jackass, post-shock rock era. When anyone can dare to be stupid and upload it on YouTube, the craftmanship of stunt work takes a backseat to backyard foolishness. Having seen KISS  take off their make-up only to re-apply it a decade late, today’s audience feels as if they are in on the joke. Though KISS was never a joke, not to their fans.  The glamour is gone and the 70′s feels showy, but today’s audience often fails to understand the sincerity that filled the times. Kids, even older ones, looked up to Evel Knievel with reverence. Fans of bands like Alice Cooper, Sorcery, and KISS loved and supported without ever once shrugging their shoulders and placing themselves intellectually above the artifice of their stage shows. There have always been critics, those ready to piss on someone’s parade only in the hopes of elevating themselves above the masses, if only in their head.

Today, it’s become acceptable to embrace these fads, but one must do it with a chagrin that shows you know better; that you are ultimately above it all.I find that rather sad, but I’m overjoyed that a time capsule piece like Stunt Rock exists to show that things haven’t always been this bad.

Körkarlen (1921)

I had the privilege of seeing Victor Sjöström‘s silent ghost story The Phantom Carriage (Körkarlen). I also had the experience nearly ruined by live musical accompaniment. Normally, I will defend modern groups like Alloy Orchestra or Text of Light who create new scores for old films. I cannot defend the Dropp Ensemble. Their droning, overpowering score dominated the experience, reducing the film to a projected backdrop. What you ended up with was an experience that was really more about hte group and their music than the movie. In another setting or a different context, I would have certainly enjoyed their performance – though I still have a hard time watching people perform music on laptops.  My problem with their music. No, what I objected to was the fact that their electronic, experimental music felt wholly incongruent with the film itself.

Körkarlen is an amazing movie in terms of story structure, optical effects, and tone. Told in a very non-linear fashion, the films revolves around a Swedish legend that the soul to die at the stroke of midnight must become the driver of the Phantom Carriage. For one year, this poor doomed soul must pick up the souls of the dead and deliver them to Death’s door.

Three drunks amuse each other on New Year’s Eve with this ghost tale, but when their joking turns to drunken violence one of them dies right before the stroke of midnight. It turns out that the dead drunk is a fellow by the name of David Holm, a notorious lush and perhaps one of the rudest, meanest bastard ever put on film. The current driver of the Phantom Carriage and David examine his past sins and in the end, he comes to see the error of his ways. He promises to change and is sparred a tenure behind the reigns of the Phantom Carriage.

Until that moment of redemption, the film is a dark affair. Besides watching David torment and torture all those who try to love him, the film nearly ends with him  being forced to watch his wife poison herself and the children. Of course, this is the event that brings David around. Though, she almost does it. I really thought this was going to be bleakest film I’d ever seen, but alas a cop out. Still, I was so involved in the film that I could almost completely block out the grating score being pumped out by the Dropp Ensemble.

It was a brand new 35mm print, that opened with the Janus title card, and looked like a lot of restoration work had been done. So, I am assuming that the film will soon being coming to Criterion. Let’s hope they find a better score, or at least I can just turn the sound off when I watch them it at home.  But, how often is one going to get a chance to see this thing projected and why should such a rare experience be nearly ruined by such a wrongheaded choice in music?