A note on the movies.

I need to feel comfortable with writing quality things on a regular basis for an audience. I watch a lot of movies. You guys are my audience--even though Stef seems to be the only one aware I’m here (no, I didn’t advertise; yes, it’s my own fault - most things are)

In my reviews I am aiming for several things.

Word limit: 500

Develop a voice.

Convey the meaning (if any) of the film

Explain how that is apparent

Dispel other reviews if they have clearly missed the point

Pass personal judgment

Write as often as possible

In the future (fog, hole) it would be the bees knees to communicate with other reviewers and have actual debates.

Also, I will review things like books/plays/advertising schemes and what have you… The restraint I’m putting on this is Media (yes, with a capital m).

Cabaret

Cabaret

(1972, Bob Fosse)

**

The manic pixie dream girl’s manifesto/what Bob Fosse thought about Nazis.

We follow the befuddled Sally Bowles (Liza Minnelli) as parallel to the rise of Hitler. Sex and booze are pretty well enjoyed in Berlin, 1931 and Nazis are, thus far, a joke of organization spouting “tripe” to be ignored.

Fosse seems at first to be only focused on the melodrama of an annoying foursome. A first date is in front of anti-communist posters. Second dance number interlaced with a Jew being beat up. First fight between secondary couple and two Nazi youth members drops a dead dog on their doorstep. Each personal drama is surmounted by a gain in society by the Nazi party.

Sally herself is nothing short of a 20 year old version of the crazy old bat Miss Minnelli we have all come to know and in sitcoms the last decade over. But here she is “an underage femme fatale,” complete with a shapeless body and Josephine Baker haircut. Her lover Brian Roberts (Michael York, you know him as the old mentor of Austin Powers) is stuffy and British, born only to succumb to this crazy dame. Secondary characters include the bi-curious Maximillian, worrisome rapist Fritz and naïve darling Natalia. Yes folks, if ever you’ve wondered “will rape win me the girl?” you now have your answer: “of course! But only if it’s Fay Dunaway being a vulnerable German Jew.”

There’s some bad over dubbing in a little boat scene which I can only imagine makes Fosse roll in his grave with aggravation to this day. Luckily, for my devout love of Fosse, everything else is characteristically perfect: shot composition, editing, color pallet are all polished. Themes are tightly controlled in the sets, writing and music. It really is unfortunate that three of the four main characters are so heinously annoying.

Easily the best thing about the film, though, is the cabaret host. He is our narrator, and bookends. He lets us know what’s going on behind Minnelli’s uber annoying presence. His androgynous and mime-ish expression is delightful as he sings the narration of the film in a super fake German accent. He lets in Fosse’s signature surreal conduit to his true message: the Nazis were bad for hurting Jews, sure, but REALLY they were bad for shutting down the clubs and doing away with drag queens and everything that is fun.

I'd rewatch this the same way I rewatch Star Wars Episode 1: fast forwarding through the parts where the main character is talking.

PS. Liza Minnelli won Best Actress for this shit. Just because she’s Judy Garland’s awkward daughter doesn’t mean she should go around getting credit for exemplifying infuriation.

M.

M.
(1931)
*****

Fritz Lang’s actually lesser known masterpiece is bedrock for film and society and societal observation/interaction in a post world wars world.

After Metropolis’ flop at the box office (though massively loved in later years thanks to Superman cartoons and Herr Goebbels) Lang turned to much more naturalistic fare and turned from the overly stylized world of German Expressionism.

Though some overt lighting, exaggerated camera angles and a fresh-from-silent-acting Peter Lorre may stage-ify M, its illustration of paranoia in civilization is still cutting edge. M follows the capture of a pedophiliac serial killer; sure it’s a cliché to today’s CSI and Nancy Grace-drenched audience, but in 1931 it was still pretty chilling.

What sets M apart from other psychological thrillers (either then or now) is the focus on fear due to physical violence rather than the violence itself. That is, the only evidence that a small girl is abducted is a symbolic balloon tangling in some electrical wires.

Instead, Lang follows an interlaced plot of Berlin’s police force and Berlin’s criminal force. Due to this especially hateful crime, both sides of the law are out for Hans Beckert (Peter Lorre). This is where the only dating of the film occurs: Fingerprinting seems to be a new fangled invention.

This leads us to the idea, and conclusion of the film, that primitive passion is way more effective than coolly cornering a criminal. The mob boss has the bright idea to hire the homeless to track for suspicious characters. Lang interlaces this with coppers rounding up the usual suspects and filling their cells with obviously innocent run-of-the-mill criminals in a giddy blaze of self righteousness.

Yep, we never see that little girl again, and the police pretty quickly forget about the mother; the mob boss never cared that there was a mother in the first place. What they don’t lose sight of is Peter Lorre and his creepy cum cute chub.

A beggar chances on the killer and chases him down. Only here does the title become apparent. The beggar draws a giant “M” in chalk and nonchalantly slaps Beckert’s shoulder so all the mob scouts can join in the chase.

What ensues is a chase scene shot from above to emphasize a rat maze claustrophobia. The only comic relief in the film comes at this point where the petty criminals act as we would expect a swat team to do. Eventually they ferret him out of a dark and sodden wood hole in the attic and take him down to their world—a cement walled basement! There, they continue their sham of justice (lest we forget that earlier in the film they were being strong armed by the law because they were the only people worth suspecting) with a fair trial. Despite a riveting plea for mercy on Beckert’s part (a performance worthy of Charlize Theron’s MONSTER or Anthony Hopkins’ Hannibal) the “jury” quickly devolves to a mob again, complete with pitchforks.

Beckert, coming so close to being sympathetic in the face of this mob, is saved only by the law who breaks in at the last second. Their only ability, the whole movie, is to track normal criminals, and track them they do, just in time to claim credit for the arrest.

Statements made by Lang: Pedophiles and murderers suck, but mass paranoia is scarier. Also, Johnny Law is next to useless unless you are committing a crime committed by these five guys over here first.