Some Like it Hot, But Only on Screen: A Guide to Really Hot Movies

Oh blessed Bay Area Summer fog, thank you for keeping me cool.

I hate hot weather so it's a good thing I live in San Francisco Bay Area, where in recent weeks we've been enjoying lots of fog and highs of 70 degrees. That's not to say I do not enjoy sweltering, blistering, humid heat. I do, so long as it's safely on film where I can imagine it without having to endure it.

Films at their best manage two complimentary feats: they paint vivid pictures for us and tap into our rich imaginations. With no slight intended to any of the arts, films are particularly good as showing yet leaving us room to complete the thought. There's no better example than hot weather in films. While you can see rain and snow, you can't really see a hot day. Certain screen images can evoke hot weather such as a focus on the sun and a sweating man walking slowly down a road, but we're left to fill in the details.

Good directors, cinematographers and actors are all required for truly hot weather scenes. Of course, the heat is always there for a reason. No director or screenwriter arbitrarily decides to have hot weather. Weather can be metaphorical, a plot point, or meant to create mood.

All of the films below include, for reasons viewers can decide for themselves, hot weather. Not warm either. Really hot. In all cases, viewers can (and I hope I'm not over reaching here) feel the heat.

Urban heat in Do the Right Thing (1989). The ultimate oh-my-God-it's-too-damn-hot film. Hot first thing in the morning. Hot late at night. And way, way too hot during the day. One of the great films of all time, in Do the Right Thing hot weather is integral to the story and director Spike Lee did a remarkable job of capturing one hot and ultimately tragic day. This may be a good movie to watch in the dead winter if you live in Minnesota or Finland.

Desert heat in Lawrence of Arabia (1962). You can work up a thirst just watching Peter O'Toole as Lawrence navigating the vast desert on a camel. This epic from director David Lean begs the question: people live in or near such places? Stranded or lost in the Sahara looks to be one of the worst fates imaginable. Lean creates a desert that looks not just foreboding but endless.

Jungle heat in Bridge on the River Kwai (1957). Another David Lean epic, this time in Burma with the heat no less foreboding. Several scenes come to mind. The newly arrived British officers made to stand in the blazing sun because they refuse to work, many collapsing as a result. Alec Guiness' character serving time in a hot box. Sweating, thirsty, cramped. William Holden's escape that takes him on a perilous journey, down the river, much of it with no water or protection from the sun. Yikes.

Courtroom heat in Inherit the Wind (1960). The sweltering heat of the U.S. south? No thanks. The 1920s courtroom in which much of the film takes place clearly boasted no central air conditioning. Look at all those hand fans go. No one in shorts or tee shirts or mini skirts either. This film will make you glad you live in a time when clothing is looser and shorter, air conditioning is de rigeur and there's no quarrel about teaching evolution in school (well, two out of three ain't bad).

Body heat in Body Heat (1981). As this is a PG-13 blog I can't really go where I want to with comments about this film. Suffice it to say that stars William Hurt and Kathleen Turner created a heat to match the weather. This was steamy, sexy heat, one of the few kinds I have no problem with. Body Heat is a rarity -- a 1980s film noir, and damn good one at that. Heat and all.

Ocean heat in Mutiny on the Bounty (1935). I've read quite enough about seafaring in days of yore to know about the horrors of the doldrums. Sailing ships needed wind to travel. When there was no wind a ship would make very slow progress indeed and this lack of wind was invariably accompanied by extreme heat. One certainly gets a sense of his experience in Mutiny. Charles Laughton's Captain Bligh shows little sympathy to his men's plight. Reason enough to become "mutinous dogs."

Marylin Monroe heat in The Seven Year Itch (1955). It's a heat wave in New York. The kind of unbearable weather that you can only wait out. Cold drinks and a good strong fan are life's only salvations. Unless of course you've got Marylin Monroe and a vivid imagination at hand. Such are the solaces for Tom Ewell in this Billy Wilder film about a married man alone and hot (literally and for that amazing blond).

Thirsty heat in Greed (1924). Back in the desert, this time California's own Death Valley. An aptly named stretch of real estate, especially as it pertains to Erich von Stroheim's silent classic (who else can't believe this still has not been released on DVD?). The desert, the heat, the suffering, the fates of characters are all metaphors. Have a metaphorical cool beverage with you when it watch it - - assuming TCM ever airs it again.

Chain gang heat in Cool Hand Luke (1967). Hard to imagine any fate worse than being on a chain gang, unless that chain gang was enduring a Deep South summer. This is a form of involuntary servitude and it's outdoors in the heat. A great film starring Paul Newman and George Kennedy. The former is a rebel with dubious causes and many gripes. Watch it with a class of ice tea.

Werner Herzong heat in Aguirre Wrath of God (1972), Fitzcarraldo (1982) and Rescue Dawn (2006). The great German director Herzog has put his casts and crews though seemingly unendurable conditions in several films, including extreme heat in these three (and the heat is just for starters, venomous snakes, pesky insects, torrential rains and jungle rot come in the bargain). Happily audiences benefit with some fine films. The first two were filmed in the Peruvian jungle. Aguirre about a Spanish conquistador over matched against natives and nature, the second about an eccentric determined to build an opera house in the jungle. Rescue Dawn was filmed in Thailand. It's the true story of American air pilot shot down and captured during the Vietnam war and his subsequent escape. All three films will make you sweat.

One Post, Two Topics: The Great Interviewer and Great Film Lists

TOPIC ONE: The Great Interviewer

Asking questions is easy. Asking really good questions, not so easy. For my money (what there is of it) Dick Cavett is about as good as they get at posing queries. Especially of "important" celebrities. (I define an "important celebrity" as someone not just well known, like say Paris Hilton, but with a distinguished career, like say Martin Scorsese.)

Cavett was one of my idols growing up. We shared a version of the same first name, a height (or lack thereof) a hair color and -- I flatter myself -- a ready wit. I also admired his principled stand against censors. Cavett hosted a late night talk show in the late Sixties and early Seventies which was up against no less a personage than Johnny Carson. Cavett's program was not dissimilar to Carson's Tonight Show. Host introduced, played on by house band, opening monologue, variety of guests. However he did often give his show over to one guest. This was the entire format years later when Cavett moved to PBS for a half hour program.

Today Cavett has a twice monthly blog on the New York Times website. His last two posts have been about his PBS shows with famed Welsh actor, Richard Burton. Included are videos of the entire interviews. And thus your question: "what has Cavett to do with films?" is beginning to be answered.

A few years ago some of Cavett's shows were released on DVD including many with famous film stars and directors. Like the Burton interviews, film aficionados will not want to miss these.

The interviewees include Katherine Hepburn, Bette Davis, Alfred Hitchcock, Fred Astaire, Orson Welles, Groucho Marx, Woody Allen, Robert Mitchum, Marlon Brando, Frank Capra, John Huston and Kirk Douglas.

The Cavett interviews are especially good because of his style. He is clearly and admittedly a great admirer of many of his guests, which is perfectly fine, so are we and Cavett is acting as our surrogate. We don't need film icons grilled, we want to hear stories and Cavett is a master of drawing them out. He knows when to back off and let them talk, when to ask a follow up question and when to change the subject.

He is charming, witty and quite intelligent but knows the interview is not about him but that famous person he's talking to. Cavett somehow melded an aw shucks native Nebraska style with an Ivy League education, all tempered by a career in show biz. He's affable but not cloying. Smart but not pretentious.

Best of all there is a spontaneity in the interviews (perhaps a by product of Cavett's years on stage as a comic) that keep them lively. There is no better example than when he surprised even himself by asking Bette Davis, "How did you lose your virginity?" It brought down the house (Davis included) but the great lady went on to answer the question!

Speaking of laughter, the Groucho interviews are among the funniest things you'll ever see and hear, but are also full on insight into his career and life. The interview with Fred Astaire is fascinating for how shy and withdrawn Astaire seemed at the beginning and the manner in which Cavett drew him out. He even got Astaire to sing a few songs.

The Welles interviews are great stuff too, as one would expect. Welles even recounts a quite accidental meeting with Adolph Hitler before the latter had achieved infamy.

If you've not seen the Cavett interviews I highly recommend you check them out, also see his interviews with rock stars, comics and political figures. Great stuff.

TOPIC TWO: Great Film Lists

On Roger Ebert's blog, he's written an article about greatest film lists. A few of his points are worth noting. One that such lists are often just propagandizing. People or publications essentially boasting their favorites. Another point is that such lists can be interesting for what's there and readers should not focus on what's not. Ebert argues that top whatever lists can be a way to encourage people to see a particular movie or director. That's precisely why I like to look at such lists and why I write so many of my own. I don't want my readers (both of us) to worry about what I omit, but to see if there's anything I include that they might be interested in. Ebert also includes a recent list from England's Spectator magazine that he (and I, for that matter) found intriguing.

Something I found particularly interesting was a reader comment in which the person asked Ebert whether greatest film lists should be of what a person thinks are the best or are of their favorites. My response to that would be: what's the difference?

I used to make lists of what I thought should be there because they were the best. That's intellectually disingenuous if not dishonest. It suggests that your list of ten best westerns (for example) is merely a compilation of what you think should be included. What the hell use is that to anyone? It also suggests that the person making the list does not believe in their own tastes. "My favorite fruit is apple but I think oranges are probably better so that's what I'll say is my favorite." The whole point of art in any form is that we enjoy it for whatever reason. That's what makes it good. I mean really should you listen to a song and think, "I hate it, but it's good."

The biggest problem with best lists is that people will argue with you. "You like Bull Durham more than The Natural? What's the matter with you?" That's a discussion going nowhere lickety split. You might try asking the person why they prefer one film over another. If their response is, "I dunno, I just do." That's perfectly valid, though that's not a discussion about to happen either. It's always most productive for people to talk about what they like and not to criticize what other people like.

A Tale of Two Movies

Do you remember last week's post about how movies are like dating in that sometimes there's just no connection? If you forgot or missed it just click on this sentence.

I had a date today with Fashions of 1934 (1934). I'd heard good things. We seemed to be match for a variety of reasons: 1) It was a pre code film, 2) William Powell and Bette Davis starred, 3) The co stars included Hugh Herbert, Frank McHugh and Reginald Owen, 4) It boasted musical numbers choreographed by Busby Berkeley, 5) William Dieterle directed.

Sounds great.

Wasn't.

How bad was it? Ten minutes into the film I was working on the crossword puzzle from the morning paper. Half hour into it I was scanning the local weekly paper. An hour gone I realized I'd seen the damn thing before. That's pretty bad when you don't remember having seen a film before and fail to recognize it for a full damn 60 minutes.

In other words, this was a second date and I hadn't remembered the first. Yikes!

So what went wrong ?

No chemistry, for one. I mean between Davis and Powell, something that at least Davis readily admitted after the fact. Powell and Myrna Loy clicked together like rice and beans. Powell and Davis were two attractive stars occupying space together on screen. It happens, there's nothing that can be done about it once the cameras roll.

Dieterle and this story were a bad fit. Give him something for his German expressionist sensibilities to run with and he's dynamite. And about this story...it jumped all over the damn place. How they could have tossed so much into an under 80 minute film is a feat -- but not one to be admired.

The Berkeley numbers were tagged on towards the end and they were good enough. But really, the very definition of a Berkeley musical is the spectacular, not the satisfactory. Plus with this story line about shysters in the fashion industry, it wasn't a comfortable fit.

And oh by the way, where were the chuckles, guffaws and hardy har hars? Fashions was totally yuckless.

So I'm not blaming myself so much for this lousy date. It's no surprise that this turkey was not included in the Busby Berkeley DVD set released a few years back or that Fashions of 1934 has not had any DVD release at all. I should have had a clue when TCM host Robert Osborne's introduction for the film highlighted the fact that it was worth watching just to imagine Davis' displeasure at having to wear Orry-Kelly gowns throughout. Call me picky but I look for more than that when selecting a film to watch. I suppose that might have been the real message of Osborne's tepid intro -- viewer beware.

I was surprised to see that Fashions has a viewer rating of 7.2 on IMDb. Then again only 473 people have voted for it, an insignificant sample size. The 77 people who gave it a ten must have been experimenting with some pretty potent drug when they watched it.

As for me, at least Fashions was a loss of only 80 minutes of my life. Moreover the experience will be more than negated later this evening by my third date with Midnight (1939) directed by Mitchell Leisen. Leisen directed only two movies that I have both seen and enjoyed and they're both doozies, this one and Easy Living (1937).

Midnight succeeds in many of the same ways that Fashions of 1934 fails. Some chap named Wilder, Billy wrote the screenplay in conjuction with his frequent partner Charles Brackett. That should tell you that it's witty, unexpected and clever. And it is.

Claudette Colbert stars. She's simply one of the best screwball comedy actresses ever. Like the aforementioned Ms. Loy, the fact that she's both sophisticated and easy on the eyes makes her perfect for the genre. Dumb people doing comedy is stupid (look for that one in Bartlett's). Smart and sexy doing comedy is funny. When they're following a Wilder/Brackett script, they're a scream.

Colbert does have chemistry with her co-stars, Don Ameche and John Barrymore. Midnight also gives you a nice dose of Mary Astor. She's another one of those good looking dames with class that does comedy so well (see her in Palm Beach Story (1942)). Just to top things off you've got Monty Wolley who makes every film he's in better. And that Barrymore fellow, he provides more laughs with his eyes and facial expressions in half a minute than was elicited in Fashion's 80 minutes. Barrymore was great at comedy, and for that matter, tragedy, melodrama and...say what other genres ya got?

If you haven't seen Midnight (get with it and I mean pronto!) giving you plot points could prove distracting. If you've seen it, well then what the hell do you need me to recap it for? Let's just say Colbert is a penniless gold digger in Paris who finds herself posing as a baroness. Ameche is a salt of the earth but bon vivant cab driver. Are they destined to be together? We'll see and laugh while we find out. Midnight also features the fabulously wealthy, philanderers and schemers. Confusion reigns, though often of the premeditated variety. The usual screwball stuff done, as they say in the restaurant biz, to perfection.

So I'm getting ready for this date now and I absolutely know I'll get lucky. Wait, no, that's not luck it's kismet. Yowzah!

These are Real Knockouts! My Favorite Boxing Films

"In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade

And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him

til he cried out in his anger and his shame

I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains."

- From "The Boxer" by Simon & Garfunkel

As both a film and sports enthusiast I flatter myself that I'm in a pretty fair position to judge the quality of sports related film. That being the case I render the following succinct verdict: most sports movies suck. Not particularly articulate but it gets my point across. Most sports movies of recent years are formulaic, to wit, a scrappy group of underdogs overcome all odds and wins the big game against their heavily favored and hated rivals. The motley crew breaks into a joyous celebration joined by friends and loved ones, blah, blah, blah.

These films are predictable, unimaginative and overly sentimental.

There are a few exceptions such as the best of the many baseball films, Bull Durham (1988), Eight Men Out (1988) and Bang the Drum Slowly (1973). All three are highly recommended and I just might have to write a separate post about them some other time.

One sport that has been done justice in films is boxing. The brutal mano a mano nature of the sweet science does not lend itself to saccharine schmaltz (despite the best efforts of Sylvester Stallone). Boxing is an individual effort and thus provides a vehicle for character study. Many of the better boxing flicks have very little action inside the ring. They often explore issues of integrity, courage and loyalty. A lot of boxing stories feature the underworld which, of course adds another dramatic element. Women are a signficant presence in virtually all boxing films, albeit usually as conflicted lovers of the central boxing figure. The brutality of the sport means that issues of health, safety and even life and death can further add to the drama.

While many sports films suffer from looking totally unrealistic in depicting action scenes, boxing is relatively easier to re-create, largely because only two athletes are involved and in confined area at that.

Many of the films below are not exactly light hearted romps through a field of posies. There are no boxing musicals that I know of. Some are downright depressing but still elevating in their examination of humans in extraordinary circumstances. So here are my 11 favorite boxing films. Other than the placement of the first, they are in no particular order.

Raging Bull (1980). I know, I know, calling Raging Bull a boxing film is like saying that Cabaret is just a musical. But the story is about Jake LaMotta a famous middleweight boxer of yesteryear. The scenes within the square circle are not only among the most incredible boxing sequences ever filmed, but among the best scenes of any sort you'll ever see. Raging Bull proves that you don't need to care a whit about the sport to enjoy a boxing film. After all, director Martin Scorsese not only wasn't a fight fan but knew little about the sport. In some respects it is the quintessential boxing film for its juxtaposition of the story of a man and his boxing alter ego.

The Set Up (1949). From director Robert Wise starring Robert Ryan. One of the most underrated films of all time. A stylized noir told in real time. The Set Up is the story of a washed up boxer who's not told he's supposed to take a fall until well into the fight. Looking for one last crack at the title, he has other ideas. The story is splendidly told and combines great scenes in the ring, locker room and arena as well as the streets just outside. This is not just a look at the seamy side of boxing it appears. The Set Up is much more than that which makes it in keeping with the best of the genre.

Requiem for a Heavyweight (1962). Talk about dark! But talk about good too. This is a film that explores the toll that pugilism takes on a human body. More than that it explores the horrible price of exploiting a human's body for few bucks. Anthony Quinn is terrific as Louis "Mountain" Rivera, who after 111 bouts has to subject his body to the freak show that is professional wrestling. Jackie Gleason, Mickey Rooney and Julie Harris are part of the stellar cast. From a teleplay by Rod Serling.

City for Conquest (1940). One of several boxing films that James Cagney made. In this film he takes to the ring to a support a brother who wants to be a concert pianist and conductor. The fight game takes a toll on his body too but his gorgeous girlfriend played by Ann Sheridan stays by his side. A touching story directed by Anatole Litvak. The pugnacious but nimble footed Cagney made for a terrific film boxer.

Ali (2001). Michael Mann's biopic of Muhammad Ali covering the years 1963-1974 stars Will Smith in the title role with a splendid supporting cast. For huge Ali fans such as yours truly there was great fear that Mann and Smith would not do our hero's story justice. But Smith was uncanny and Mann captured both the boxing and political drama. In retrospect it seems impossible that so current a story could possibly be a great film, but it was good enough.

Rocky (1976). Back before Rockys II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XXXX etc. et al there was this the original Rocky and it was good. Certainly not worthy of its Best Picture Oscar but a fine film nonetheless. Sadly Stallone did not know how to leave well enough alone and went to make innumerable remakes each worse than the preceding one. But the genuine article was a powerful character study and unique concept at the time that's been run into the ground since. Rocky is a down and out fighter who's given a shot at the title and decides to, as the kids say, go for it. Some of the boxing scenes are a bit unrealistic but the overall effect adds to a fine story.

The Harder They Fall (1956). Probably most remembered as Humphrey Bogart's last film. The story is based on a real life Argentine boxer Primo Carnera who got to the top of heavyweight division through smoke and mirrors and oh by the way a little corruption. Bogie is the reporter who has to decide whether he should set the glass jawed fighter straight before he get his block knocked off. Rod Steiger is a revelation as the crooked fight promoter. The fight scenes are brutal and so is the storyline.

Somebody Up There Likes Me (1956). Another film from Robert Wise, this one a bio pic of boxer Rocky Graziano as portrayed by Paul Newman. Most directors would have turned the story of a criminal who manages to navigate the straight and narrow through boxing into pure corn pone mush. Not wise. Pun intended, Wise pulled no punches and does not sentimentalize his subject matter. It's the film that established Newman as a star.

City Lights (1931). Why the heck is this Charlie Chaplin silent here? I'll tell you why, it has the funniest boxing scene of all time. Indeed its some of the funniest stuff you'll ever see on screen. Chaplin's genius is on full display in the amazing choreography of the boxing sequences. Funny stuff in the pre and post fight locker room as well.

Gentleman Jim (1942). This is one of those films I like way more than I should. That said it has a lot going for it. Raoul Walsh directed and Errol Flynn star with his constant sidekick, Alan Hale on board as his dad. Flynn plays Jim Corbett a late 19th century boxer from San Fransisco who takes advantage of the new rules modernizing boxing to win the heavyweight title. He must conquer long time champ John L. Sullivan who is played by Ward Bond in a magnificent performance. A fun film that, especially with Flynn in the lead, is like a swashbuckling version of the boxing film.

Fat City (1972). John Huston directed and Stacy Keach stars in one of my candidates for the "Hall of Fame of Underrated Films". Keach plays Tully, a boxer on the downside of a so-so boxing career. He is juxtaposed with Ernie ( an impossibly young Jeff Bridges) a young fighter on the rise. Fat City is a raw film not saw much in its depiction of boxing but of the lower middle class life. There are no gussied up characters with remarkable wit and charm. They are very real people doing the best they can. Boxing can be seen as a metaphor here. If you've not seen Fat City, do yourself a favor and check it out. Thank me later.

Also see: The Champ (1931), They Made Me a Criminal (1939), Cinderella Man (2005), Body and Soul (1947), and Champion (1949).

Stay Up in Heaven, Ed. Trust Me On This One.

Imagine if Edward R. Murrow returned alive and well to planet Earth today. Once he turned on a TV and watched what passes for news he'd perforce be sick and wishing himself dead again.

I became convinced of this after recently re-watching George Clooney's fine film about Murrow and his stand against Joseph McCarthy Good Night, and Good Luck (2005).

Murrow was the CBS newsman who gained notoriety and much respect for his World War II radio broadcasts from London during the Blitz. His claim to everlasting fame came in the 1950s with his bold TV news shows. Murrow epitomized the straight forward reporting, unafraid of controversy, that is the hallmark of great journalism. Murrow understood the need for objectivity but also understood that there were not two sides to every story.

One can only imagine Murrow's reaction to buffoons like Sean Hannity, Bill O'Reilly, Rush Limbaugh and the national laughingstock that is Glenn Beck. These men are to journalism what axe murderers are to surgery. Every broadcast comes with an agenda. Actually, that would be fine if that agenda was to speak the truth and expose injustice. But theirs is strictly political. They are attacks dogs for an ideology, and most of what they bloviate about is in pursuit of the axes they wish to grind. They swing wild punches using dubious claims and invented "facts." Moreover they do not engage in discussions or the exchange of ideas but give airtime to guests who support their views or belittle, berate and shout down those who disagree. The disease they spread has reached over to the left. Keith Olbermann was a voice of sanity on cable TV whose commentaries a few years ago had been likened to Murrow's. But he has become an ideologue in love with his own voice and obsessed with fighting his counterparts on the right. Lost in this is any perspective on the day's events. Chris Matthews is no better.

Murrow would be appalled.

Yes, there are broadcast journalists who live up to the best ideals of the profession. They find and relate stories that are important to viewers and do so in sober and measured ways. But for the most part they are on PBS stations and get nowhere near the viewers that the blowhards do. Certainly none can be found on the major networks where news magazine shows are devoted to lurid murder cases usually involving well-do-do families or to high-end celebrity gossip.

Network news is hardly any better. Wasting time on athletes and entertainers and on giving both sides to all arguments. Yes, you're supposed to give both sides to reasonable disputes. But when polemics make up silly charges against an opponent it should be permissible to give some of these short shrift. When fringe groups or the deluded insist that religious dogma be given equal educational footing with scientific fact, they can be ignored along with the Flat Earth Society.

Good Night, and Good Luck does an excellent job of showing today's audiences what TV news used to be like. It was like it's supposed to be. Murrow was the face of many broadcasts but, you should excuse the cliche, it was a team effort. What the film makes clear is that Murrow was often the driving force and was certainly the visible manifestation of CBS efforts but he was one part of a dedicated crew of journalists.

David Strathairn got the role of a lifetime as Murrow and he made the most of it, capturing Murrow's inflections, mannerisms and posture. Clooney played director Fred Friendly, himself a hero. Robert Downey, Jr., Patricia Clarkson, Jeff Daniels and Frank Langella as CBS president William Paley also featured. McCarthy is played by himself which is to say that he and many of the other "characters" of that historical period are revealed through archival footage. Not just a nice touch but a means of making the story seem all the more like a historical document.

It has been mistakenly asserted that Murrow attacked the red-baiting Senator Joseph McCarthy. In reality Murrow shone a light on him. This was what good investigators do. They report what is being done. To attack suggests doing battle by whatever means possible, including name-calling, wild accusations and innuendo. Murrow and company simply sought the truth of what McCarthy and his investigations into communism was doing to individuals and the country. McCarthy responded to a Murrow broadcast not by refuting the facts presented, but by attacking the messenger. This is a common tactic in political discourse made into an art form by the likes of Karl Rove. You will note how often conservatives of recent vintage, unable to respond to the message, try to kill the messenger.

Good Night, and Good Luck is particularly good at showing the pressures that Murrow and company worked under. These came not only from McCarthy but from network advertisers and the suits in the front office (ain't that always the way? Seems whatever line of work you're in, certainly true in education, good work can be undone or at least threatened by the bigwigs who worship at the altar of the dollar sign). That's one of the reasons that teamwork was so essential to the CBS team. Clooney does a wonderful job of revealing this. Relationships are critical to the film, none more so than the one between Murrow and Friendly. This is very much a buddy picture.

Bookending the film are Murrow's speech at a 1958 banquet (four years after the story depicted took place) in which he warns his audience of the wasted opportunity that television can become if used primarily for mindless entertainment. Talk about prophetic! Murrow would not have been surprised to see what a great wasteland that television has become (are you ever shocked, as I am, to have literally a hundred more channels than you did as a child and not be able to find anything on worth a tinker's damn?). He doubtless could have envisioned all the insultingly stupid shows that pass themselves off (successfully, I'm sad to say) as entertainment. Low brow would be a step up for most of the crap we're exposed to. But I think even he would be very much disappointed at the current state of what calls itself news.

One might think that with 24-hour news channels there would be vehicles to bring important, well-told stories to a populace hungry for the truth. Sadly, these stations find themselves filling hour after hour with the type of shouting emotional thugs earlier mentioned. Other air time is taken up with endless repetitions of celebrity news and speculations about stories that are just developing. And for pity's sake, how many helicopter shots of cars pulling into or out of driveways do we really need to air? Many think the problem is that the news divisions have been co-opted by the entertainment sections of stations. I would, however, posit that the bigger issue is that news divisions are run by complete morons. In the case of Fox News the whole damn network is out of whack. There is no pretense of providing objectivity. It's not just a matter of one broadcaster, or one show, its a whole network that is closely associated in the public's minds with one party and one philosophy. MSNBC risks doing the same thing in the other direction. We are lucky indeed to have Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert on Comedy Central to lampoon TV news and shine some light on the truth in the bargain.

Where have you gone Edward R. Murrow, a nation turns its lonely eyes to you...

Actually skip it, Ed, you'd hate it down here today.

That's the Same Dude as From That Other Movie? No Way!

Some actors are instantly recognizable every time you see them on screen. There's no disguising Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart or Robert DeNiro and that's okay. Many of their roles are playing similar characters and that's okay too. These are stars and we enjoy how each manifestation of their essential personification is developed in their films. And it is a mistake to claim that they were not good actors. Bogart, for instance, went beyond the usual tough guy he played in such films as The African Queen and Caine Mutiny.

Some film stars take on very different roles, that require lots of make up, weight changes, accents or elaborate costumes. But that's really just the window dressing. The real difference comes from within. Great actors assume different personas for different roles. They become their character and the results are transformative and exciting. Sometimes they are barely recognizable.

Below I've got an even eleven (really, you got a problem with the number 11?) actors who convincingly became two different people for two different films. The two performances must be within 20 years of one another so that the person aging isn't too much of a factor. No performances as children included and no performances in super intense make up (sorry Roddy McDowall in Planet of the Apes (1968)).

I'll be the first two admit two things: 1) It's possible to come up with dozens and dozens more actors and 2) In many cases the actors I cite are indeed physically recognizable from one role to the next. But in all cases they are different people beating no resemblance other than the man playing them.

(I guess I'm going to have to come up with a similar list for women now. A film blogger's work is never done.)

Ben Kingsley as Mohandas Gandhi in Gandhi (1982) and as Don Logan in Sexy Beast (2000). This list is not in order except for Kingsley who must come first. I defy anyone to come up with two more different characters portrayed by the same actor. One is the great pacifist leader of India the other a manic English gangster who's way tougher than nails. Sir Ben is one of our greatest living actors and all you have to do is watch these two movies back-to-back for irrefutable proof.

Sean Penn as Harvey Milk in Milk (2008) and as David Kleinfeld in Carlito's Way (1993). As Milk, Penn was a middle aged gay man who was the first openly homosexual activist to be elected to public office in the United States. It was a performance that garnered him Oscar number two. Prior to that Penn had appeared as all variety of characters bearing no resemblance to Harvey Milk, none more different than a drug addicted, paranoid, young Jewish lawyer in Carlito's Way. With two Oscars to his credit Penn will no doubt go down in history as one of our greatest actors.

Javier Bardem as Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men (2007) and as Juan Antonio Gonzalo in Vicky Christina Barcelona (2008). Any role is a departure from Anton Chigurh. There's never been anything quite like him and the debate as to what he represented will go on. Much of the fascination with the character is based on Bardem's Oscar winning performance. A year later Bardem appeared in VCB as a Spanish painter and prolific cocksman. His lovers included Penelope Cruz, Scarlett Johansson and Rebecca Hall (sounds like one of my weekends). Bardem featured in my favorite films of both of the last two years and his contributions were inestimable to both -- and as two very different men.

Walter Huston as Howard in Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) and as Sam Dodsworth in Dodsworth (1936). He was the quintessential old prospector in Sierra Madre. Wise in the ways of the hills and its occupants, both animal and mineral. Perhaps a little touched (check out his dance moves) but plenty savvy. As the title character in Dodsworth he was in another world. A retired automobile magnate who set off to tour Europe with his wife. Huston is wise here too but with altogether different sensibilities and life experience. Couldn't look a lot different either.

Paul Muni as Tony Camonte in Scarface (1932) and as Emile Zola in The Life of Emile Zola (1937). As Camonte, Muni was one of the forerunners of all film gangsters to follow, especially Italian-Americans. You might even say he was a bit over the top. But as the real life Zola he was the understated muckraking French writer of fin de siecle France. Muni had an abbreviated career -- partially by choice -- but made the most of the roles he did tackle.

Lionel Barrymore as Mr. Potter in It's A Wonderful Life (1946) and as Otto Kringelein in Grand Hotel (1932). They look alike but can't possibly be the same guy. One of them must be another member of the acting Barrymore family. Nope. Same guy. Potter is the meanest man in town and likely would be in most any town you dropped him in. Kringelein, meanwhile is as nice an old bloke as you'd want to meet. He's a bookkeeper who's as far from the wealthy Potter as you can get.

Dustin Hoffman as Ben Braddock in The Graduate (1967) and as Ratso in Midnight Cowboy (1969). So one year he makes his film debut as a recent and highly honored college graduate living and loving in Southern Calfiornia. Two years alter he's playing...hmmm, why not just say the polar opposite. Ratso is everything Ben is not. New Yorker, sickly, repulsive and a hustler. After these two roles Hoffman wasn't just a star but a recognized great actor. Still is.

Laurence Olivier as Marcus Licinius Crassus in Spartacus (1960) and Szell in Marathon Man (1976). Both were bad guys. But one was a slave holding Roman Dictator and the other was a former Nazi concentration camp doctor. Olivier looked and sounded quite different in both roles (remember, this is the guy who starred as a wealthy Brit in Rebecca (1940) ). Olivier's ability to assume varying roles bordered on magic.

Walter Brennan as Old Man Clanton in My Darling Clementine (1946) and Professor Novotny in Hangmen Also Die (1943). Brennan was one of the top five character actors of the the first half of the 20th century. Yes, he usually played comical second bananas in cowboy films. But he shone in those roles and everything else he took on. See him in Ford's My Darling Clementine as the oneriest Papa you'll ever meet. See him in Lang's Hangmen Also Die as a loving father and doctor in Nazi occupied Europe. You might check him out too as the drunkard in To Have and Have Not (1944).

Daniel Day Lewis as Christy Brown in My Left Foot (1989) and as Bill The Butcher in Gangs of New York (2002). Another possessor of two Oscars, the first as a man with Cerebral Palsy who paints using his left foot, the only limb he can control. He's in control of one helluva lot more in Gangs, where he is the ultimate sadistic gang leader. Day-Lewis doesn't take on many roles but the ones he does....

Orson Welles as Charles Foster Kane in Citizen Kane (1941) and as Hank Quinlan in Touch of Evil (1958). To begin with the two fellas couldn't look a whole lot different. One is a wealthy publisher and collector of most everything. The other is a corrupt border town cop who's as mean and ugly as a rattler. One of the world's most revered directors, Welles could act too. These films are but two examples.

Give It To Me Straight Movie, What Are You About?

I went to the bank yesterday and the employees couldn't have been more polite. Or more facile. Like the local version of the grocery chain I frequent, corporate has evidently established the policy of obsequious deference to all customers.

I'm perfectly happy to be asked, how I'm doing and my opinion on the weather is available at all times. I will further accept your wishes for a nice day, wonderful weekend or staggeringly stupendous evening. But a dash of sincerity should tincture every salutation. Our local bus drivers are under no compulsion to be genial so if ever one manages a kind word I know it's from them and not command central. That many drivers are grumpy is swell by me. They're just regular folks doing their jobs and not putting on the Ritz in the process.

You should no longer have any doubts that I abhor phoniness.

I hate it in people and I hate in movies. Herein is a problem with modern movies that I've alluded to frequently. Too many movies are formulaic. The plots were developed out of Screenwriting 101 and possess all the artistic integrity of painting by the numbers. Indeed these type of films are not artistic endeavors but ways to put Diet Coke buying butts into cineplex seats. They're ultimately not really about anything, they are thus as insincere in intent as those servile bank tellers.

You can spot these movies coming down Broadway. They boast A List Hollywood stars, mass market product tie-ins and hip new soundtracks. Some are even too vacuous for mainstream film critics (except of course Rolling Stone's Peter Travers who LOVED IT!!!). Most manage to sell themselves to a few or even a consensus of critics. Make no mistake many are quite watchable, few stay with you. They are often re-makes, sequels or from James Cameron.

But enough of them. What makes a movie genuine? How does one spot a film that may actually have artistic merit? First of all you may want to navigate away from your local multiplexes or any theater that has a video game in the lobby. If you've got an independent theater in your neck of the woods you're in good shape. Revival houses, film archives and any place that shows independent, foreign or films from the 1970s and before are likely destinations.

Sadly your best bet may be DVD rentals and Turner Classic Movies. That's fine, but you miss the big screen experience.

The difference between these films and your corporate pre fab films is the difference between being taken on a guided tour to someplace you've already been and wandering the streets of a foreign city for the first time.

Example: I could have walked the plot points of the last Iron Man (2008) movie in my sleep. Robert Downey Jr. was delightful, the film was fun and I forgot it before I'd left the theater. Meanwhile, I Loved You for So Long (2008) was a journey to unknown places on a circuitous but fascinating route. This movie stayed with me.

There is a basic honesty in the film making of directors like the great William Wellman. Wild Boys of the Road (1933), Public Enemy (1931), and Heroes for Sale (1933) (photo above) . All capture the time in which they were made. They are about real people in dire, difficult or demanding circumstances. They are unflinching and effective. There is a rawness in the performances whether from James Cagney as a gangster or Frankie Daro as a Depression Era kid riding the rails.

Many films of the 1930, particularly of the pre production code era, emphasis characters and relationships over the flash and dash of today's Hollywood. In Baby Face (1933) Barbara Stanwyck sleeps her way to the top. She does not find true love as Julia Roberts or Jennifer Lopez would in a similar movie today. The film is too honest for cheap sentiment and love scenes played to that new hit single from today's most popular new recording artist.

In Three On a Match (1932) Ann Dvorak does not find redemptive love after "going bad", she sacrifices herself in a stunning act of bald face truth. Movies were not always made by focus groups. Nor to be fair are all films of today. See The Visitor (2007) from last year which had the very unsexy but very real Richard Jenkins in the lead. The movie didn't do boffo box office in large part because Americans have become addicted to junk food and junk movies. The Visitor told the totally unexpected story of a middle aged man's unexpected journey of self discovery through a couple of illegal immigrants. He also meets an attractive woman who would be perfect for him. They do not have sex to the strains of the latest hit by American Idol runner up Joe Hot Star.

Movies that do the expected and obvious are lying to us. They are pretending life is something that it isn't. We do not live in a world with soundtracks, perfectly timed rescues, bitter enemies that we vanquish, perfect loves that we realize despite all obstacles. I do not minimize the need for movies to sometimes provide a distraction from the day's cares. But a movie can provide loud laughs and still explore relationships in an honest way like Superbad (2007). A movie can provide thrills and chills and still be original, like Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981). A movie can explore true love and not revert to schmaltz ala Brokeback Mountain (2005).

I'd like bank and store employees to continue to be polite. But if they're going to go beyond that and express some sort of interest in my welfare, I'm not really interested. Because they're not really interested. I'd like movies to extend the same courtesy. Be real. Give it to me straight, don't sugar coat. I can handle it. Honest.

Movies are Like Dating In That they Don't Always Work Out

The question: "why didn't you like that movie?" is sometimes analogous to: "why don't you want to go out with her again?" After all a movie is like a first date. The film is trying to impress you. If you have a good first date you'll see her again and if your really like a movie you'll see it again.

Back in my younger days (when dinosaurs roamed the Earth) I had a fair amount of dates. Sometimes with perfectly lovely, intelligent, charming women. But there was no connection and thus no second date. Similarly I see many movies that are lovely to look at and are perfectly wonderful in many respects. But we just don't click.

I finally saw Beau Geste (1939) on TCM the other day directed by one of my favorites William Wellman. It had Gary Cooper and Ray Milland and Robert Preston and lots of thrills, adventures, heroism and I didn't much like it. TCM host Robert Osborne had given it the big sell. But there was just no chemistry between the film and I. Look, I'm under no obligation to tell you why, we just didn't hit it off. I'm not in the habit of parsing a movie I don't like it. Move on and see another. Sort of like dating, only with a movie you don't have to worry about hurt feelings.

When I posted part eight of my favorite directors series on Billy Wilder, some readers were surprised that Sabrina (1954) did not make the top ten. It's a perfectly wonderful movie with the pulchritudinous Audrey Hepburn along with two of my favorite actors, William Holden and Humphrey Bogart. That's one helluva cast and the movie is a delight that I've enjoyed several times. But I'm not in love with it. Sue me.

You want to tell me how great Sabrina is? Go ahead, I won't argue with you. But I won't agree with you either.

At the risk of being obvious, we are all different so art strikes us in different ways. People look at the same damn painting, hear the same music or watch the same movie and because they bring their very own perspective and life experience and taste to it, have completely different reactions.

Does this render all criticism moot? Absolutely not. In the case of film a review, reading a review, whether positive or negative, that you agree with can help you understand and articulate your view of the movie. Whereas before all you could say about a film was "Wow! That was great!" or "Oh my God, that totally sucked!" now you can better understand your feelings, get to why you loved/hated it.

Reviews can also help steer you away from or towards a particular film. With the proliferation of reviews all over the internet, one can easily get a consensus of critical opinion, especially if there is close to near unanimity about a film. Of course you can go to the most highly praised film of the century and think it's trash. More likely, as in my case with Slumdog Millionaire (2008), you'll wonder what all the fuss was about. I thought it an okay film but it didn't do anything special for me. (I've gotten a lot of flack for not loving it "like everybody else." So  it goes. 

Sometimes people expect a justification for why you didn't like a film. In some ways it's like asking why you're not going to see that young lady again -- but she's beautiful, how come you didn't like her? Maybe the film looked and sounded great, but we just didn't hit it off. In fact it was like that Prom queen with the gorgeous smile and great body, I need something more.

There are, of course, even really "smart' movies that don't appeal to me. A few years ago noted film critic and historian David Thomson, a man I much admire, introduced Jean-Luc Goddard's Pierrot le fou (1965) at the Pacific Film Archives, singing its praises most emphatically. I absolutely hated it. Such pretentious garbage I'd never seen before. I had a moment of thinking that this was something I should like, must have gone over my head. It was only a moment. I recovered quickly and realized that this was like a terrible first date of two people with nothing in common. Actually Pierrot le fou was like going out with the most obnoxious self absorbed person I'd ever met.

If that first date is particularly offensive or rude it may be worth mentioning to other people. Same with a film. If it displays what a critic considers bad taste or is insulting that needs to be made clear. So sure if I just don't connect with a film it's not worth mentioning, but if it has racist stereotypes or is exploitive, I'd be obliged to call it out.

When people I love or respect don't like one of my favorite films, I can feel stunned, hurt, saddened even angry. What's wrong with them? I, of course, recover and practice acceptance of those things I cannot change.

Of course, films, are quite unlike relationships in that we can love many of them at the same time. I've got DVDs of many of my favorite films snugly sharing space on a bookcase. (To the best of my knowledge they are not jealous of one another.) I can have repeat dates with them over and over. I can "have" a different one each night. So many to choose from all waiting for me.

Just like the dating fantasies of my youth!

Young Mr. Lincoln, How Ford (and Fonda) Met the Challenge

I watched Young Mr. Lincoln (1939) yesterday and I could only wonder what type of film it wold have been for a viewer who'd never heard of Abraham Lincoln.

Of course you're not likely to find such a person in the United States whose old enough and sane enough to appreciate a movie.

There are plenty of films based on actual events and/or people that some people watch ignorant of those actual events or real people. I sheepishly confess to not having known a thing about James Whale before seeing Gods and Monsters (1998). An argument over whether it is preferable to know a little, a lot or nothing about events and people in films can make for an interesting parlor game. The short answer is that it depends on the subject matter. It may be a topic worth exploring in the future.

But when the topic is Lincoln, there's no use kidding ourselves. Audiences know at the least the outlines of his story and have generally formed an opinion on him and usually its quite favorable.

So the challenge for the great director John Ford in making a film about someone of Lincoln's pre presidential years was impressive. Although based on what I know of Ford he wouldn't have viewed it as anything special. He certainly would not have allowed publicly that it was a daunting task.

The risk in telling a story about so iconic an American figure is not to pile on to the mythologizing. He is perhaps America's most revered historical figure. More so than either Washington or Jefferson, both of whom are forever tainted to many because of their ownership of slaves. Lincoln of course was The Great Emancipator. (I'd already read and heard enough about Lincoln by the time I was about six or seven that once in bed with the lights out I feared that his ghost, stovepipe hat and all, lurked in my closet.)

Ford talked Henry Fonda into taking the role. Fonda was reluctant, quite rightly arguing that it was akin to playing God himself. As it turned out he was right to take the role and probably could have played God too, if he'd a mind too. He was a much better Lincoln than Raymond Massey who played him in Abe Lincoln in Illinois (1940). Massey was good but he was acting, Fonda became Lincoln. (Some Lincoln scholars have noted that, based on contemporary reports, Lincoln's voice was much closer to Fonda's than Massey's).

Okay so how do I justify writing, and with italics no less, that Fonda became Lincoln? First of all while I'm no spring chicken I am not old enough to have met Honest Abe. But when you've read as much as I have about Lincoln (you can't do much better than Doris Kearns Goodwins, Team of Rivals) I believe you've earned some license in intuiting what a person was like. But really to be raised in this country is to be immersed in Lincoln and have a sense of him so I suppose we're all allowed. In any event, Fonda got the manner, the posture and darn near anything else related to Lincoln you can think of.

So that's a good start. But it was still up to Ford to ensure that the movie did not do either of two things: 1) Conflict with the zeitgeist of Lincoln; or 2) Be mawkish and overly sentimentalized.

Young Mr. Lincoln follows Abe in his early days as a Springfield lawyer. Culminating in his successful defense of accused murderers. Events have been embellished, altered, even outright made up. But that's okay because this film is about a man. At the very least the spirit of the man. Ford knew that the best way to present a character, particularly one so famous, was to focus on events and supporting players. He had audiences looking at the man in contrast to what and who swirled around him.

Yes, there are camera shots and set pieces that emphasize Lincoln's stature, but he was clearly a man of presence so that was appropriate. Plus it is part of Ford's film-making style.

Ford and Fonda's Lincoln is a witty, humble, down home charmer. He is a contemplative man. But he also cheats at tug-of-war and is an indecisive pie contest judge and a terrible dancer. He's Lincoln not God.

Best of all he's not long-winded. Ford never liked giving his stars too many lines. This belief was a positive boon in telling a story about Lincoln. Many directors wouldn't have been unable to resist having the great orator prattle on. Ford let other characters talk and have screen time. This helped make Lincoln stand out when he acted and spoke.

So we watch a film about Lincoln, knowing what we do and nothing can change that. We're really not going to learn many new "facts" or "information" about the man, at least not in this film. Lincoln the myth will remain in tact, indeed it will be affirmed. Young Mr. Lincoln is a comforting movie in that respect. But perhaps more importantly we are entertained. The film sure looks like the Midwest America in the 1830s. Fonda sure looks and acts like we think Lincoln did. We get an engaging story told by a masterful director.

I can't think of anything else you'd want.