My Cheap Ploy to Get Lots of Comments -- I Say What's on My Mind

I haven't had a post that engendered a lot of comments recently so I'm resorting to a cheap trick: telling just what I think. I figure one or two of my opinions will raise some hackles. Should you find anything I say here objectionable, please, please leave a comment.

I believe that puppies should be boiled alive, especially the cute ones.

All breakfast cereal should be heavily laced with hallucinogens.

School playgrounds should be veritable minefields. This way only the very lucky will survive into high school.

Death panels are a great idea but should not just be for the elderly. Everyone should have to go before one and panelists should be heroin addicts in the throes of withdrawals.

Henceforth all adults must perform their own colonoscopies.

Free speech is highly overrated. Limit it to every other Tuesday, say between noon and three pm.

Jean-Claude Van Damme is our greatest living actor.

That Glenn Beck fella seems like a sane, reasonable, rational human being.

Answering the question, "what's up" by saying "the sky" should be punishable by death.

All snowflakes are identical.

South Carolina shouldn't be the only state that allows the brain dead to enter politics.

The single most important thing a person can do for society is to maintain a film blog.

Hopscotch is the greatest sport in the world (the photo above is from last year's national championships in Hazelton, Pennsylvania).

Fridays and Wednesdays should be forever switched. If I have to explain the rational for this you're beyond hope.

Boys most definitely do not have cooties.

I think the whole story about Abe Lincoln beating a street mime to death is probably true.

(That ought to do it. Post a comment and you will be sent $5,000 in gold coins or my name isn't Vlxczy P. WF7uioennie.)

Note: Normal film blogging will resume with my next post.

The Difference Between Joe Wilson and Kanye West

Kanye was a jerk at a video music awards show.

Wilson was a jerk during a presidential speech before a joint session of Congress.

Kanye's claim is debatable.

Wilson's can and has been proven to be empirically false.

Kanye issued a sincere apology.

Wilson, not so much.

Kanye was vilified by one and all.

Wilson is a hero to many.

Is America a f*cked up country or what?

What a Great Start! My Favorite Opening Movie Scenes (Part Two)

Last week I brought you the first of a three part look at some of my favorite opening scenes. As I said then a great opening is no guarantee of a great film and some of the best of movies develop slowly. (See that post for the full introduction.) The opening sequence of a film should not only capture our immediate attention but set the tone and mood for what is to come. Here are four more of my favorite opening scenes.

The Searchers (1956). Not without justification it is the closing scene of this John Ford film that has been widely celebrated throughout the years. But the opening bookends it perfectly. From complete darkness a door opens and the figure of a woman stands in silhouette. Slowly she moves forward looking out onto the bright colors of a rugged and picturesque countryside. She's looking at something though we can't see for sure what. Now the camera focuses on her from the front and we see that she is a handsome woman of middle age. Next, in the distance, we see what she's been looking at it. It's a man on horseback. The horse is meandering towards the house. She is joined on the porch by another man who asks "Ethan?" and walks past her to meet the horseman.

It's a beautiful opening and has us immediately curious about the man on the horse. Surely he is of great importance to these people. The movement from darkness to wide open spacious color sets the stage for the story about to be told. This is the scene to watch for students of any class entitled "John Ford Appreciation 101."

Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933). We open with a lavish musical number. Right smack in the depths of the Depression a huge stage production fully costumed of "We're in the money." A Busby Berkley extravaganza all the way. The lead singer is no less than Ginger Rogers. The spell is momentarily broken by a shot of the audience section where we see but one man (Ned Sparks). He's looking on with interest but seems a wee bit glum. A huge cigar is clenched between his teeth. All this is a rehearsal. But then its back on stage where there are girls, girls and more girls in elaborate costumes. Then its just Ginger again and what's this? She's singing the song in Pig Latin! Back to standard English and a very non standard lavish production number. Another shot of the audience. This time we see a few more people in the audience and the orchestra. But the real downer comes when a man with a badge leads a group into the theater to "collect." Everything must go. The creditors are closing the show! The set and costumes are being taken lock stock and barrel, sometimes for laughs.

So what is this anyway? A musical? A story about the Depression? A comedy? Yes on all counts. This first and best of the Gold Diggers film from director Mervin LeRoy wastes no time introducing us to all three of its aspects. We can't wait for what happens next. Will it be in Pig Latin?

To Be Or Not To Be (1942). As we watch placid street scenes in what is clearly a large city, a narrator tells us we are in Warsaw. He adds that it is August 1939 and Europe is still at peace. We know that the following month war would break out and Poland would be the first country to truly suffer, Warsaw included. This adds pathos to the scene. But our narrator's voice suddenly quickens with excitement and alarm as we see strolling citizens stop in their tracks and look in wonder. At what? We see cars stop, as the narrator says, "Are those Poles seeing a ghost? Why does this car suddenly top? Everybody seems to be staring in one direction. People seem to be frightened, even terrified, some flabbergasted. Can it be true? It must be true, no doubt. The man with the little mustache. Adolph Hitler." And yes, there he is, Der Fuhrer. All by himself in Warsaw. What the....? The narrator now explains that it all started in the Gestapo's Berlin headquarters and that's where the scene shifts. There ensues a rather odd scene with Jack Benny playing a Gestapo officer. Eventually Hitler enters the room and receives the obligatory "Heil Hitlers" answering with a "heil myself." At this farcical moment we see a man in a suit rise from a table and realize that we've just been watching a play rehearsal. We further realize that the Hitler in Warsaw was an actor.

Maybe they didn't have us going but they sure had us wondering. Part of the charm of this opening is that the film was made in 1942, as war raged throughout Europe and the world. To Be or Not to Be, from director Ernest Lubitsch and starring Carole Lombard along with Benny, manages to be funny about Nazis and the war while both are very much a going concern, so to speak. A seemingly impossible feat. The opening establishes this and prepares us for a wonderful satire.

Annie Hall (1976). The opening credits end and there's Woody Allen from the chest up looking right at us and he's just starting in on an old joke. It's a classic one about an old lady complaining about bad food at a resort and her friend agreeing saying "and in such small portions." Allen explains that that's life. Full of misery and heartache and all over too quickly. Another couple of jokes and then Allen veers course by telling of his break up with Annie; it has clearly effected him deeply. He also talks about aging then segues into his childhood. As he talks about growing up in Brooklyn during World War II the scene shifts there. We see a young Allen and his mother.

At the time of its release Annie Hall was a revolutionary film in many ways not the least for the opening. Imagine the chutzpah of a star/writer/director to start a film by talking directly to the audience. It worked in large part because the star in question was a well-known figure, initially famous for his work as a stand up comic. Allen's daring gambit succeeded wonderfully. We met a funny and engaging character who obviously had a love story to relate, a love we knew had ended. The story would be full of humorous asides and nostalgic looks back. We were immediately interested and had a sense of what we were in for -- a classic film.

(Part three next week.)

Uncle Tom's Cabin on Film Then, Why Not Now?

Last night Turner Classic Movies showed the 1927 version of Uncle Tom's Cabin. Many films reveal as much about the times in which they were made as they do about the times the story depicts. After the opening credits we get a picture of Robert E. Lee and an 1856 quote in which he calls the institution of slavery "a moral and political evil." He nonetheless fought for the Confederacy in the ensuing Civil War out of loyalty to his home state of Virgina.

The story begins on the plantation of the Shelbys "whose gentle rule of the slaves was typical of the South." Let's allow for a moment that people who keep others in involuntary servitude may have encomiums of any sort bestowed upon them, but this nonsense about typically gentle rule of slaves is utter balderdash. Indeed the movie pretty well goes on to prove the silliness of such a claim. We meet all manner of cruel and lascivious slave master, most notably one Simon Legree. Profiteers and slave catchers are also introduced. Gentle indeed.

The very notion that harsh treatment of slaves was the exception rather than the rule is a product of the film's times and the 50 or so years preceding it. The fiction of happy slaves, singing in the fields and reaping the benefits of serving benevolent masters was created in the antebellum period and persisted among many for a full 100 years after slavery was abolished.

The heroes of the film are George and Eliza whose wedding is the focus of attention as the story begins. Both are very light skinned (they and their child were played by white actors). Any slave with such light skin is the product of a few generations worth of miscegenation. This was generally in the form of nonconsensual sex between a master or overseer and a slave. It was one of the greatest tragedies of slavery.

Another great tragedy of slavery was the selling off of family members from one another. The supposedly kind and gentle Mr. Shelby sells Eliza's child away from her, prompting them to escape. As part of the same transaction, Uncle Tom is sold away from wife and child. Anyone who wonders why the term Uncle Tom came to be used by African Americans to describe their brethren who "sold out" to whites need only see this subservient character "in action." That being said, many slaves found that such obsequious behavior was their ticket to an easier life. It was a Hobson's choice.

The film ultimately steers so far from Harriet Beecher Stowe's novel that we see the Civil War break out and triumphant Union troops marching through the South. Yet it has much of the novel's power and every bit of its sentimentality. Despite his worst intentions, director Harry Pollard's film is about as searing an indictment of slavery as one could hope for from a 1927 film. For all intents and purposes Jim Crow was still the dominant figure in relationships and laws between whites and blacks in the 1920s. This would remain so until the Civil Rights Movement attained success.

It's worth remembering too, that the film came out less than 70 years after the events depicted. To put that in perspective, today we are a full 70 years from the outbreak of World War II in Europe. The closer one is to a time period the more of a cultural memory there exists of it, however skewed it might be by the dominant political narrative. In other words we have a huge advantage in making movies about Vietnam today that will not be enjoyed by film makers fifty years hence.

Watching this 1927 version of Ms. Stowe's novel got me thinking about why no one has ventured a similar effort since an ill fated 1987 TV production. Maybe the best film version wouldn't be based on the novel itself but on the furor its publication launched. Uncle Tom's Cabin stands as perhaps the most important work of fiction ever published in the United States. It's 1852 release helped add fuel to the burgeoning abolitionists movement and added to the growing schism between the North and South. To sight it as one of the major causes of the Civil War is not an exaggeration in the slightest. Ms. Stowe, abolition and slave escapes would lend themselves perfectly to a cinematic telling.

In fact, there are numerous stories from the time period that are begging to be made into feature films. How about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad? The Nat Turner Rebellion? A bio pic on Frederick Douglass? Hollywood seems deathly afraid of stories showing chattel slavery in America. One hopes that misplaced fears of violating political correctness doesn't get in the way of telling compelling stories.

The history of slavery neither can nor should be ignored. It is impossible to understand this country's history without understanding slavery's causes, nature and ramifications. This study is, of course, rife with horrific stories that call to question the very nature of man. But there are also inspirational stories about the ability of human beings to survive, maintain dignity and find some solace. I taught U.S. History for 20 years and always exposed my students to the full scope of slavery. This included the very inhumaness of it. But I also hastened to add how slaves persisted in seeking freedom, knowing it to be their true birthright. I also emphasized the manner in which slave communities formed their own culture and through family, religion and customs experienced happiness in the worst of circumstances. Theirs is a remarkable story that should be told cinematically more often.

The 1927 version of Uncle Tom's Cabin is definitely worth a look see as an artifact of its time, if nothing else. It also serves to illustrate the paucity of efforts today to show this most horrible, and fascinating era.

Finding the Truth Hidden Behind the Facts

In his seminal book on America on the Sixties, Nixonland, author Rick Perlstein wrote of the faith Democrats had in their presidential candidate, George McGovern on the eve of the 1972 election. Polls had shown the incumbent Richard Nixon comfortably ahead for months. Perlstein related liberals undying faith to the film, Twelve Angry Men (1957). "It would end like (the movie) where only the jury's prejudices had blinded them from seeing that they were about to condemn an innocent man, and where the liberal's gentle, persistent force of reason had compelled the brutish conservative, by the last reel, to realize the error of his ways."

Alas, politics is rarely like the movies. Nixon won in landslide. (Twenty months later he resigned in disgrace, but that's another story.)

Twelve Angry Men is the story of possibility. How one man, unconvinced in the face of seemingly indisputable evidence, can gradually bring others around. These men must look at facts and find the truth hidden behind them. That one man (played by Henry Fonda -- who better?) does not use histrionics but reason. It is a triumph of logic and examination over bluster, over pomp over "the obvious."

Score one for the intellectual process. How often have Americans been swayed by leaders and voices who speak from the gut rather than the brain. Indeed as president George W. boasted of utilizing his gut. He and his supplicants, both in government and the media, were able to marshal "facts" to convince the vast majority of Americans about the wisdom of invading Iraq. The results were of course the greatest foreign policy debacle in America's history -- which is going some, I know.

There was no Henry Fonda to reason with W. and the American people. Fonda's Juror #8 from Twelve Angry Men could have calmly encouraged a closer look at the "evidence" being presented as justification for war. Why? It's what we're supposed to do in a democratic system. We're obliged to question the obvious.

The United States is and always has been a country riddled with faults. From slavery to the genocide of native tribes to corporate greed to efforts to block health care reform to Fox News, this country has had some serious messes. But this country is full of promises too and full of potential. Much of which can be found by a close study of the country's constitution (which barely survived the Bush/Cheney's years).

A jury of one's peers can sometimes overcome its prejudices through steady deliberation and render a fair verdict. It happens. Twelve Angry Men presents a case that is a veritable miracle. There is no dramatic movement, slow motion camera work or impassioned speeches. Just folks going over the minutia, looking at at it from different angles, until the truth becomes apparent to even the most bigoted. And even he, that most bigoted of men (Lee J. Cob as Juror #3) is exposed for what he is, even to himself. It is a thoroughly compelling film, with nary a special effect and has held up these past 50 years. Kudos to director Sidney Lumet.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) is another film which presents a miracle forged by a man using the "system." A senator being railroaded by corrupt influences holds a one-man filibuster to expose the truth hidden behind an avalanche of supposed "facts." He wins against all odds.

Those of us on the political left are often plagued by an excess of idealism. We believe in the power of truth to convert. We think that by shining a bright light on lies and hypocrisy -- look there's a man behind the curtain! -- we can help the masses see the truth about a bumbling president or a wrongly accused man.

Movies like Twelve Angry Men and Mr Smith feed our idealism. But so too does our rare success, as evidenced by W's plummeting popularity in his last two years.

What led Juror #8 to question the obvious? It was his duty. His duty as a juror. As a citizen. He took his charge seriously. Imagine if half as many U.S. citizens took seriously their duty as Americans. To too many, patriotism is standing solemnly for the national anthem and perhaps, just perhaps, casting a vote on election day. For news and opinion they seek not divergent views but the words of those who will affirm what they already believe. They are swayed by ideologues (there's Fox News again) rather than their own study of the facts to find the truth behind them.

That's a lot of work. It's work most of us don't want to engage in. Juror #8 was willing to do the work and thus the other 11 gradually followed. Jimmy Stewart as Mr. Smith was on the verge of giving up -- always the easier course -- but was persuaded by his aide and love interest Saunders (Jean Arthur) to knuckle down and do the work that would not only vindicate him but bring down a graft ridden political machine.

Here then is what's so wonderful about these two films. They do not rely on super heroes performing the impossible, but on regular people doing the probable. So miracles do happen. They just require good ole fashioned work. That's how you can find the truth hidden behind the facts.

What a Great Start! My Favorite Opening Movie Scenes (Part One)

You had me at the opening credits.

Like people, some movies seem a bit ordinary and uninteresting when you first meet them. But as you get to know the film you find it to be quite interesting, perhaps even compelling. Some films seem dazzling, fascinating at first look. But it's all a false come on. They offer no substance. They shot their creative wad in the opening minutes.

Many of my favorite movies take their time developing. They need to set the stage. They build slowly. Novels can be the same way. These are your "once upon a time" beginnings. But other films grab us from the beginning and never let us go. More importantly they set the tone for the movie. Our senses are prepared for what is to come. A visual style is established, perhaps even an auditory one. We are hooked from the first moments and can't wait for more. Even if we've seen the film many times before. These openings are different than anything we've seen before. They may be exciting, but they are certainly unique. Seeing an inspired opening suggests more to come. Here is part one of a look at some my favorite beginnings to films, with parts two and three to follow in the coming weeks.

Apocalypse Now (1979) . My absolute favorite start to a film. Black screen. The whir of helicopter blades. Jungle. Then a helicopter passes by. Light smoke slowly wafts up from below screen then disappears. Gradually a song begins. "The End" by The Doors. More smoke, a bit thicker now. We hear the helicopter again and then it passes again but only the bottom of it is visible. Suddenly the entire jungle goes up in flames as Jim Morrison sings the words, "this is the end, beautiful friend...." The jungle seems to have burned quite quickly. The helicopter makes another pass. Now a head, upside down is super imposed on the screen. Gradually the jungle fades and the whirring of the helicopter is now the sound of an overhead fan. The inferno continues as does the helicopter. Now the main backdrop to the scene is the man in a room with flames superimposed over his head and the helicopter still making passes. Once more the jungle but it gradually fades as the camera focuses on a glass with an amber liquor in it. Then a gun. Then the man, who looks up to the fan which sounds exactly like a helicopter. The mood  has been set. It's a hell of an opening to live up to, but Francis Ford Coppola's film does exactly that. We have been immediately engaged, intrigued and prepared for the long strange trip this film is.

Manhattan (1979). This is Woody Allen at his best. His uses of narration, music and establishing shots. Gorgeous black and white shots of the New York skyline street scenes and other sights, Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" and Allen himself dictating the beginning of a novel. We see New York in various states at various times of the year. We hear Allen's character try different openings all suggesting very different prose to come, critiquing himself as he goes. When the narration stops, the song's crescendo builds and the percussion explodes we see fireworks over the New York skyline.

Beautiful. The story will mix Allen's trademark humor into a romantic and interesting story.

Goodfellas (1990). The opening credits start. On a black screen, the words, in white, come from the left stop and zip off to the right. The words move to the sound of a car passing by. We see the words, "This film is based on a true story." Then we see a luxury car driving down the freeway in the dark of night. Black screen and the words, "New York, 1970." Back to the car, this time the inside where there are three men. One asleep. The driver quite tired. They hear a noise from the trunk and pull over to investigate. The trunk is opened to reveal a man wrapped in white, only his bloodied head visible. He's alive. One man approaches with large knife, cursing he begins stabbing the body. He pulls away and another man fires several shots into the body. The third man, who was the driver, looking more resigned than shocked, closes the trunk. In voice over we hear him say, "as far back as I can remember I always wanted to be a gangster." As the trunk closes the we freeze frame on his face and hear Tony Bennett sing, "Rags to Riches." Then the credits are back. The movie's title in red.

I'm in. And I think I have an idea for what I'm in for to boot.

The Letter (1940). The opening credits are superimposed over a plantation jungle at night. The opening score is dramatic, suggesting a suspenseful story to come. The first shot after the credits finish is of a full moon. Then a sign tells us this is a rubber plantation. Next we see a white substance lazily dripping from a tree into a bucket. The camera pans to an open air hut where natives are lazing about. One plays what appears to a flute, others play a board game while still more lay in hammocks. It's all quite tranquil. Until the camera pans further and we see in the background the big house. Then we hear gun shots. People outside start to stir. Next a man comes out of the house falling down the steps. He is being shot. We then see the shooter. A woman. She continues, while standing quite erect, to fire until out of bullets. Then she slowly lowers the gun to her side, finally dropping it. The camera slowly moves closer to her until her face is almost full frame. It is an expressionless face. She's attractive, probably in her 30s. Next we see the commotion among the natives. One, however looks up. He sees clouds pass over the moon, rendering the scene that was brightly lit, very dark. The camera is back on the woman. The cloud passes and she's in the light of the moon again. She looks up at it over her shoulder as if surprised. We see the moon. Her looking at it, then she turns her attention to the prone body. But she quickly sidles away from it and back up the steps. Wow. That the woman in question is played by Bette Davis only adds to the effect of the scene. We are full of questions. The film will slowly reveal all and we'll see that moon again at the end.

(Part two next week.)

Defending Our Movies, Defending Ourselves

Those of us with even the teeniest amount of self awareness all know one thing about ourselves: we are not perfect. We all have varying degrees of acceptance of this fundamental fact, but there is no getting around at least some of our imperfections. We therefore seek transcendence in other things.

Looking for it in other people is futile. Our most celebrated athletes, entertainers, politicians and writers may have a special talent but are, without exception, just as unalterably human as we are. In case this should be forgotten the media is always quite ready, willing and able to report blemishes as they become apparent.

So we look to things. Many people find perfection in their country. This is not patriotism but blindness. A nation state and its government is a construct that even in the best of circumstances will at some (or perhaps for that matter all) times will be exploited by the few for their benefit or in other ways not best serve the many. And of course countries rely upon leaders who are human... and well you know where this is going.

So we look to art. Through songs, paintings and films we can find beauty. Some works of art we enjoy or admire but acknowledge could have done with a change here or there. But others, albeit a precious few, we celebrate, revere, worship. Here at last is perfection. And we adopt it. It is part of our identity. It is of us.

No bloody wonder many react so angrily to criticism of their favorite movie.

The more fragile our ego, the weaker our self esteem, the more angrily we may react. Not surprsingly older teens and fanboys breath fire when one of their chosen ones is blasted by a critic. Film critics who dared question the perfection of The Dark Knight (2008) last Summer were vilified by angry emails, blog posts and the like. A few months ago the Transformers sequel was roasted by critics far and wide. The near unanimity of opinion of the film did not stop the films legions of devotees from screaming foul at critics. Teens and the typical fan boy is at a vulnerable age, struggling for identity. When something they love is not universally adored they feel the self they are just now forging is being questioned.

One would assume that an old coot like yours truly would gladly avail himself of criticism of a favorite film, want to entertain all views. One would be wrong. I have fallen head over heals in love with Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds. If a writer has harsh words for it I don't want to know. And it's not just about current stuff. All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) has been around for 79 years and if someone has written anything negative about it, whether upon its release or yesterday, I ain't interested.

So, how, you ask, am any different than those keening teens? By the very fact that I don't concern myself with attacks on what I love. If I happen to come across some harsh words for a favored film I hurry along to something else. Others will take the time to read opposing opinions and my even engage with civil debate. Bully! Depending upon how you look at it I either don't have the time, inclination or self security to hear what's wrong with what I find infallible. (Hey, I just assume not hear what you don't like about my wife and kids either.) On the other hand I'll gladly indulge every word of praise from others I can find. Let us share our love. Give me more insight into why I love this movie. Let me find new prisms though which to view and love it.

Of course this is movies. When it comes to political systems and philosophies, leaders, programs and aims, it is incumbent on all of us to remain detached and willing to hear all sides. Not that many people are capable of such rational behavior. The right has been particularly guilty of interpreting any dissent against government policy as sedition when it is in fact the privilege if not the duty of all citizens. Indeed some American patriots are quite evidently the most insecure people you'll ever see. The constant yammering about how great America is (Fox News' Sean Hannity even did a series of shows on how America is the greatest country in the world) is positively bizarre. Imagine a relatively young and successful person bellowing to one and all that he is the greatest person in the world and then brooking no criticism. Madness!

Let us all be willing to hear all sides on key issues of the day. Except of course if someone is talking mess about a beloved movie, them we can ignore.

The City By The Bay, An Ideal Backdrop For Films

I had the great fortune to grow up across the bay from one of the world's most beautiful and revered cities, San Francisco. I've also spent much of my adult life a half hour away from what we affectionately refer to in these parts as The City. I've also gotten to see a lot of the San Francisco in movies. It's always fun to see familiar environs in a movie, or to walk around places you've seen in movies. I believe it safe to assert that no other U.S. city save New York has been highlighted in so many films.

The Bay and Golden Gate Bridges, Alcatraz Island, the Pacific Ocean and San Francisco Bay, the innumerable hills and colorful neighborhoods serve to enhance any film shot here. Since the days of the California Gold Rush, San Francisco has drawn poets, novelists, bohemians, beatniks, hippies and anyone looking for an alternative life style. This ain't Kansas, pal. The beat poets were here, the Summer of Love was here and the epicenter of the Gay Rights movement was here.

San Francisco thus adds a colorful history to its gorgeous look. No wonder so many films of such a great variety over so many years have been filmed here. There is a hypnotic quality to The City. It's like that beautiful dame you fall for who tells you straight out she's trouble but you don't care. She's somehow different and you'll put up with anything to get to to know her. Forget understanding her though, that's beyond you. Just be glad you're along for the ride.

Here I offer a list of ten films not only set in San Francisco but in which The City By The Bay plays a central part. I've tried to offer a variety of types of films from a range of directors and including some of Hollywood's greatest stars. From Jimmy Stewart to Sean Penn, from Frank Sinatra to Mark Ruffalo, from Humphrey Bogart to Woody Allen. Just to give a sense of how many fine films have been shot in SF, I offer another 16 titles after this list. Trust me, there's more.

Vertigo (1958). The quintessential San Francisco film. The City is all over this masterpiece from Alfred Hitchcock. There's Nob Hill, there's the Golden Gate Bridge, there's Lombard Street. There are Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak in one of the greatest films ever made. The best of the many films set in San Francisco that features an obsessed character.

The Maltese Falcon (1941). Based on Dashiell Hammet's novel. Hammet lived and set many of his writings in San Francisco. The MF's protagonist was detective Sam Spade (Humphrey Bogart) whose agency was based in The City. Though much of it was shot on Warner Brothers back lots, you certainly get a feel for mid 20th century San Francisco, hard boiled detective film noir style.

Play it Again, Sam (1972).Though technically not a Woody Allen because he didn't direct, Allen wrote it and was the featured player. San Francisco costarred along with Diane Keaton and Tony Roberts. A hilarious movie about a divorced man obsessed with emulating Bogie, Play it Again, Sam portended even better to come from Allen.

The Conversation (1974). For whatever reason San Francisco is an ideal locale for obsessed characters and The Conversation's Harry Caul is damn near loco with obsession. Various SF locales are featured starting with a wonderful opening scene in Union Square. See this recent post for more on the film.

Zodiac (2007) .Watch San Francisco's growth from 1969 through the early 80s. Watch a city gripped by fear of a publicity hungry serial killer. This is a movie that brings back memories. We were all a little nervous about the Zodiac killer, even this generally courageous writer. Zodiac is a criminally underrated (pun intended) film featuring three stars at their top of their game, Jake Gyllenhaal, Robert Downey Jr. and Mark Ruffalo, all playing real life men. A cartoonist obsessed (what-I-tell-ya-bout obsessive characters in SF movies?) with finding the self proclaimed Zodiac killer, a reporter and a cop, respectively. The cop, David Toschi, influenced police characters in two other SF based films, Bullitt and Dirty Harry.

Milk (2008). Here's your introduction to San Francisco's Castro District which in the 1970s became a gay haven for men from across the country. Their political voice was Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man in the U.S. elected to public office. This is his story and Sean Penn's brilliant performance along with a stellar supporting cast and of course SF itself make it a terrific film. The candlelight march scene is unforgettable.

Barbary Coast (1935). San Francisco in the immediate aftermath of the Gold Rush. A wide open, dangerous town rife with gamblers, cheats, hookers, thugs and rogues of all description. You don't really get an accurate picture of how wild and wholly not to mention dangerous it was from this film, but you do get one especially nasty Edward G. Robinson (with an ear ring no less). There's a meaner than a polecat Brian Donlevy too along with some vigilante justice, of the hanging variety. Miriam Hopkins as a fallen woman and straight as an arrow Joel McCrea provide the love interest.

Bullitt (1968). Worth it for the car chase through the streets of San Francisco alone. Worth it for Steve McQueen alone. Worth it because it's one helluva good cop picture, even if the story doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Filmed all over San Fransisco. Recalls for me memories of the non Haight-Ashbury side of the city in the late 60s.

Pal Joey (1957). Two of the greatest together: San Francisco and Sinatra! As a bonus you get Kim Novak *sigh* and Rita Hayworth. The story is a slight cut above most 50s musical, comedy, romances. You get to see San Francisco and hear Sinatra -- in the same movie! How cool is that!

San Francisco (1936). With a title like that how could it not be on this list? Plus it's Clark Gable and Spencer Tracy and the 1906 earthquake. Actually there's only what IMDb calls, background footage, shot in San Francisco but the film provides a good if somewhat sanitized look at early 20th century San Francisco. The quake scenes are surprisingly good, at least in terms of cinema if not accuracy.

Not enough San Francisco films for you? Try these on for size: After the Thin Man (1936), Greed (1924), Gentleman Jim (1942), Dirty Harry (1971), Dark Passage (1947), Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (1967), Double Harness (1933), Foul Play (1978), Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978), The Lady From Shanghai (1948), Mrs. Doubtfire (1993), Time After Time (1979), Experiment in Terror (1962), Sudden Fear (1952), Take the Money and Run (1969) and What's Up Doc? (1972).

Somers Town, A Daringly Simple Story

It's easier to tell a story about a punch in the nose than to tell one about picking daisies.

Visual media like films rely on dramatic images. Aliens, gangsters, robots, cops & robbers and their actions are just the stuff for movies. Not much of a story required at all if you've got gunfire, pyrotechnics or spaceships. Never mind that sensational images, particularly of the special effect variety, often detract rather than enhance story telling, the point is that's just plain easier to engage audiences when you've got explosions rather than exposition.

Of course love stories are dramatic too. Ninety nine per cent of your audience can relate to the joys and anguish of romance and if you've got a handsome couple and vibrant musical score you're halfway home.

Now try telling the story of two relatively ordinary teenage blokes. Let's set the tale in a working class London neighborhood. One lad is a Polish immigrant the other a runaway from his dreary Midlands home. Let's go further and say you've got the cheek to film it in black and white and want to wrap the whole story up in 72 minutes. You must be daft.

Or you could be Shane Meadows.

The film in question is Somers Town (2008) which arrived here in the colonies just last month. It's wonderful.

While we do get a glimpse of a brief beating suffered by one of the film's protagonists, Somers Town is otherwise bereft of violence. Both teens have a massive and quite understandable crush on a French waitress, but this is no love story. Meadows, who's previous efforts include Once Upon a Time in the Midlands (2002) and the terrific This is England (2006), manages to not only hold our attention for the full running time, and has us wishing for much more. In fact my only serious quibble with Somers Town is that its too damn short.

The two teens (played by Warsaw native Piotr Jagiello and Thomas Turgoose who starred in This is England) form a bit of cinematic cliche: the unlikely pairing. Their comradeship works because the two lads clearly need each other. One is lonely, the other desperate. Their escapades are not the madcap antics of teen exploitation films. Meadows does not draw our attention through shocks or broad laughs. He does it the old fashioned (and harder) way: relying on the strength of his characters and a strong story.

The immigrant is struggling to learn English and live with just his dad. The runaway is trying to make do day by day completely away from whatever family he left. We don't know the back story of either young man. Do you know the back story of everyone you have interactions with? Workmates, neighbors, causal friends? Course not, but we make do, just as the film does. It reveals enough and let's us discern in our own way what we want. Minus those explosions of other films we are left to imagine. Meadows is the type of film maker who trusts his audience to think for themselves.

A story grounded in reality with well drawn characters is not the stuff of box office gold. But for me it creates a perfect equipoise for my lingering and heartfelt love for Inglourious Basterds. The two films, as similar as broccoli to a root beer float, together reveal that good cinema comes in many forms.

Sadly, Somers Town is the type of film that will not play to huge audiences. It slipped into Northern California without the slightest ballyhoo and I only discovered it by accident (saw a postcard for the film with a character wearing an Arsenal jersey, my favorite footie club, and was initially intrigued just by that association). I could now reprise my quixotic fight against blockbusters and in support of independent films, but in the spirit of the film I'll keep this post short and simple.

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