Romeo and Juliet in Manhattan - West Side Story

West Side Story (1961)

I spent most of my academic life ensconced in every type of musical ensemble imaginable. No surprise, then, that I've been intimately familiar with the superb score to West Side Story for quite some time. One of Leonard Bernstein's most famous compositions, it melds the traditions of musical theatre with the bombastic leitmotifs of Romanticism, all injected with a substantial dose of American jazz. 

Most musicals contain one or two truly memorable songs; WSS gave us a litany - from "Maria" to "America." I cued up the full WSS soundtrack while at work a few weeks back and - shocker - had difficulty getting much work done. At that time I came to the realization I had never actually listened to the entire score from beginning to end. It's a well-known masterpiece, of course, and remains delightfully infectious. The mixture of Bernstein's raucous riffs with Stephen Sondheim's legendary lyrics combine to produce a simply unforgettable aural experience.

Shortly after plowing through the soundtrack a half-dozen times, I also realized I had never seen the famous cinematic adaptation of the original musical. Released in 1961 to much fanfare, WSS won 10 Oscars (including Best Picture). Rightfully considered a classic, I checked out a copy from my local library and sat down to watch it.

The Sharks (left) and the Jets (right) face off

While it definitely shows its age at times, WSS is a film that I think everyone should see at least once. The plot of film is essentially a modern re-telling of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet set in 1950's Manhattan. Two street gangs, one white (the Jets), the other Puerto Rican (the Sharks), are tussling over turf on the Upper West Side. In the midst of their brawling, a young Puerto Rican woman (Maria) and a former member of the Jets (Tony) meet and fall for each other. Like Shakespeare's play, the story ends in tragedy, with conflict between the warring gangs, and Tony slain by a member of the Sharks.

The story is nothing to write home about - it unfolds predictably and with no real twists or turns. What really makes the film outrageously memorable isn't the tragedy of of its star-crossed lovers, but the outstanding score and lyrics - and, of course, like many an excellent musical, the staging and choreography of its dance sequences.

The Sharks showing off their stuff

Choreographed by Jerome Robbins and directed by Robert Wise to perfection, the dance sequences in WSS are simply extraordinary. From the inventive staging and camera angles, to the impressively technical choreography and splendid costuming, the numerous ensemble dance numbers in the film are a sight to behold. Expertly edited and accompanied by Bernstein's rousing score, each song features a wide variety of moods and moves. The diversity of set pieces and styles is really astounding, and the visual direction of each scene perfectly mirrors the music and movement unfolding on screen.

The opening scene ("Prologue"), in particular, is a fantastic example of the best the WSS has to offer. The film opens with a series of panning shots across the cityscape of Manhattan. Accompanied by whistling tri-tones, an extended unison note slowly swells and swells until exploding into a biting resolution while the camera simultaneously zooms at light speed to the Jets, cloistered together in the corner of a basketball court. What follows is 10 minutes of beautifully staged and choreographed dancing as the Jets and Sharks go toe-to-toe. No dialogue, just Bernstein's wonderful music.

The first time we meet the Jets

That's not to say we don't want the gangs to talk! Once they start singing you'll wish they'd never stop. Sondheim's energetic lyrics mix incisive social commentary, lighthearted gamesmanship, and pure machismo while critiquing a range of societal ills omnipresent in 1950's New York - from racism to drug abuse. The film's subject matter is surprisingly progressive given the fact it was released in 1961, and a few couplets in particular remain pretty relevant today:

"Our mothers all are junkies / our fathers all are drunks / golly, Moses / naturally we're punks!"

"Life is alright in America / if you're all-white in America!"

The Jets try to play it "Cool" in an explosive dance number near the end of the film

Despite the sheer exuberance and energy exuded throughout most of the film, WSS does drag in spots. The main romance between Tony (Richard Beymer) and Maria (Natalie Wood) is painfully unconvincing. Part of that may be because the acting hasn't aged all that well, but the over-the-top faux-Shakespearean writing doesn't help things either. Though their love affair is supposed to be the centerpiece of the film, I just found myself wanting the Sharks and Jets back on the screen, and for people to start singing and dancing again. 

While the film's leads certainly fizzle, WSS has a whole swath of outstanding supporting characters. Two in particular stand out - Rita Moreno and George Chakiris. They play a pair of Puerto Rican lovers and steal every scene they're in with a fiery chemistry that totally outshines the dry, wooden interactions of Beymer and Wood. The duo sang, danced, and acted to a pair of well-deserved Supporting Acting Oscars. Moreno later went on to become the first woman EGOT - winning Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony awards.

Despite a few lulls here and there, West Side Story remains an outstanding film that still holds up well today over 50 years later. The music and choreography make it worth watching alone. Throw in outstanding direction along with a cast of memorable characters, and you have yourself a musical accessible for all ages.

-CC

Not sure if WSS is for you? Check out "America":

What is Fooly Cooly?

FLCL (2000)

What is fooly cooly? 

That's just one of many questions raised over the course of the 6-episode animation Fooly Cooly (FLCL). Most of these questions never get fully answered, and when they are, it's usually in the most oblique and abstract manner possible. 

Normally, that phenomenon irritates me to no end (see: Lost). It didn't bother me one bit while watching FLCL. I'll get to why that's the case in a bit.

FLCL takes place in the fictional Japanese town of Mabase and centers on the life of a 12-year old boy named Naota. The show opens with Naota musing that nothing ever happens in his town; everything is ordinary. The weather is tranquil, the streets quiet, and the scenery undistinguished — with the glaring exception of a massive factory operated by the enigmatic corporation Medical Mechanica. Naota seethes with pubescent brooding, interacting with friends and family in the most aloof fashion possible and spending his afternoons wasting time with the 17 year-old girlfriend of his absent older brother (who moved to the USA to play baseball). 

The Medical Mechanica factory looms over the town of Mabase

It is against this backdrop that an eccentric pink-haired woman named Haruko runs Naota over with her bright yellow Vespa and proceeds to smack him in the forehead with a bass guitar. Soon afterwards, a horn grows out of his head, and all sorts of strange (and I mean very strange) things start happening.

Haruko and Naota

FLCL's narrative starts off on this bizarre note and only becomes more hyperactive over the course of six zany episodes. The show speeds along at a blistering pace. Art styles shift from scene to scene and the mood alternates between comedic to somber to sensual to meta in the blink of an eye. All sorts of references abound — from American pop culture (one scene is drawn in the style of South Park) to European fairy tales (one episode is a modern retelling of the 17th-century tale Puss In Boots). Given the rapid pacing and sheer volume of insanity unfolding on screen, I had a hard time following the plot my first viewing. However, like I said earlier, that didn't really matter to me. Watching FLCL is an experience more than anything else, an experimental audiovisual thrill-ride that invoked in me equal parts nostalgia and excitement.

These unique characteristics helped FLCL break out of the traditional Japanimation mold upon its release in 2000.  However, the show is more than just a patchwork of allusions and art styles aimed at subverting the expected normalcy of narrative cohesion. At its core, FLCL is a coming of age story, and a potent allegory for the absolute madness that nearly all human beings undergo as they transition into adulthood — puberty.

FLCL pays homage to South Park

When we first meet Naota, he's doing all he can to maintain a facade of stoicism while surrounded by a sea of immaturity. All of the adults in Naota's life don't act like adults. Or rather, they don't act how he (with his 12-year old worldview) thinks adults should act. He views his father and grandfather as lecherous old men, his teacher as an incompetent hack, and Mamimi (his brother's girlfriend) as a chain-smoking truant. And we, the viewer, see them in a similar light. 

However, as the show progresses, it becomes apparent that Naota is in fact no more mature than the rest of them. Like many kids entering their teens, Naota holds himself in higher esteem than everyone around him. By assuming an aloof and disinterested demeanor, Naota seeks to elevate himself above the adults in his life, all of who he views as irresponsible. But in reality, Naota has yet to grow up and escape the familiarity of childhood (represented metaphorically by the "ordinary" surroundings of Mabase). Naota remains fearful of the unknown, and even more fearful of actually expressing himself.

Naota retreats from the advances of his student class president, Ninamori.

Enter Haruko. A dynamic ball of unpredictability, Haruko smashes into Naota's life, breaking down barriers between fantasy and reality. She rips him out of his comfort zone and kick starts his libido. At first, he protests vigorously, rebuking her ideas and actions, retreating to the safety of his routine. However, over the course of the narrative, Naota slowly becomes more assertive and sure of himself. His progression mirrors that of many a teenager moving through puberty, from awkward fumbling to assured confidence to heady arrogance before finally petering out and landing in adulthood. Through a series of harrowing adventures, Naota is forced to face the reality of his coming of age.

FLCL lives on extended metaphors that underlie Naota's arc. They include the aforementioned childhood metaphors, as well as a host of innuendos, some subtle, others anything but. However, by far the most important one involves the refrain Haruko repeats to Naota throughout the duration of episode 4 — "nothing can happen until you swing the bat." As in, you'll never get anywhere until you put yourself out there and start taking chances. This is the true turning point of FLCL, where Naota starts to grow. He certainly hasn't abandoned all the vestiges of pre-pubescence just quite yet, but finally takes his first step out from beneath the shadow of his older brother. Of course, FLCL being what it is, this metaphor plays itself out literally on screen, as Naota is forced to save the planet from a giant baseball hurled through the Earth's atmosphere by, you guessed it, swinging his bat (erm, well a guitar, but you get the picture).

Naota swings his bat

One of FLCL's less-than-subtle instances of innuendo

At the end of FLCL's six short episodes, everything has changed, yet at the same time, nothing has changed. Naota is a fundamentally different person, yet his life in Mabase is fundamentally the same. He's fallen in love, yet he's also learned to move on. He's finally learned what it means to be an adult, yet this means that he's finally learned the truth — that just because one is an adult doesn't mean they know all the answers. To a certain extent, everyone out there in the world makes it up as they go along; the world doesn't get any less strange or inexplicable as one gets older. And in arriving at this revelation, Naota follows in the footsteps of many before him who have made the journey through puberty. The world's not a different place; he just views it through a new lens.

Haruko leaves Mabase - and Naota

So what is fooly cooly, aside from the eponymous title of the show? We get hints that it could mean all sorts of things - sex, life, coming of age - but it's never made quite clear to us. But again, none of that really matters. One rarely gets answers to all of life's questions throughout its ever-winding course. As always, life is about the journey, what you make of it, and whether or not you're willing to swing the bat.

-CC


P.S. - I would be remiss not to mention the fantastic soundtrack that accompanies FLCL. Written and performed by the Japanese rock band The Pillows, the entirety of the show unfolds with music in the background, music that perfectly captures the wistful nostalgia one feels when reminiscing about their formative teenage years. Check out one of the best tracks below:

The 'Force' is Strong with This One — ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY

ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY
2016 — 133 minutes — Action, Adventure, Sci-Fi
Director: Gareth Edwards
Country: United States
IMDB: 8.1
Metacritic: 65
RT: 85%

EpicEnthusiast's Rating: C

Watch this movie if you enjoy: 

• Star Wars

• Felicity Jones

• visually appealing Sci-Fi's

Avoid this movie if you dislike:

• Star Wars

• excessive drama

• long films

(spoilers below)

I'm worried that Rogue One: A Star Wars Story is the new norm. I'm worried that all future Star Wars directors will be setting out not to make a great film, but to make a great Star Wars film. 

I'm worried that all future Star Wars films will have way too much of the "Force."

If you saw the Rogue One teaser trailer, chances are you were very intrigued like I was. In fact, I've never been so intrigued by a Star Wars film. The Force Awakens was a huge deal and the official return of the franchise last year, but Rogue One's storyline was captivating. Stealing the Death Star plans essentially sparked the entire saga, and it absolutely called for its own film.

Felicity Jones, the sirens, Forest Whitaker, "I rebel," Felicity Jones. Yeah, I'm in.

The problem is, aside from some of the footage, almost none of this trailer was in the actual film. Not really shocking, but by the end of Rogue One, contrary to its theme, I didn't have much "hope" for the franchise.

And let me be clear: I am far from a Star Wars fanboy. My only connection to the universe is I've seen all the movies. If I was a mega Star Wars fan, though, I'd feel like Rogue One was just one giant piece of bait swinging in front of my face. Like many shots in the film were solely included because they would appeal to the fanbase. I'd even feel manipulated.

That's because throughout Rogue One director Gareth Edwards includes forced, fan-focused sequences that just don't need to be there.

The film opens with a shot we've seen before: an imperial ship approaching and landing on a remote planet in search of something/someone. This time, they're looking for Galen Erso, a former imperial engineer that is being called upon again to work on the Death Star. He expected this day to come and urges his wife and daughter (Jyn Erso, played by Felicity Jones) to hide out in an underground bunker. On her way to safety, Jyn turns around and witnesses the troopers kill her rebelling mother before she avoids detection and retreats to the bunker. While it's nothing original, it's an effective opening. A true rebel is born.

We first see Jones as a grown up Jyn in imperial custody and she proves fit for the role from the get-go. She's so stubborn and independent that she fights off would-be rebel rescuers on a transport vehicle. She's been through it all and she trusts no one. 

Felicity Jones as Jyn Erso

The only thing holding her back is a limited screenplay. Writing has never really been the strength of Star Wars films, but in Rogue One, drama takes over. Lines like "Everything I've done, I've done for the rebellion" and "You're not the only one that's lost everything" wear a bit thin by the end of film. We know what the cause is and we know it's worth fighting for. 

Like many prequels, that's really what the film suffers from most — we know too much. Yes, when Jyn sees her father's hologram message about how he secretly planted a mechanical fault in the Death Star and how she's the rebellion's last hope it's emotional, but when she's initially denied by the rebel council after a speech about how "rebellions are built on hope," it's not as impactful as it could be because we know, in one way or another, they're going to infiltrate the imperial base and attempt to steal the plans.

"Rebellions are built on hope" is actually a very symbolic line when it comes to Rogue One. Jones delivers it perfectly, but ultimately it sounds far better than her future actions depict. She successfully poses as an imperial trooper with Cassian Andor and K-2SO (think snarky, C3PO-esque droid) and even when she's confronted by Director Krennic (commanding imperial officer) at the top of the transmitting tower that will transmit the plans to the rebellion, we know she's not really in danger. Sure enough, Andor recovers from being shot and falling onto a platform to shoot Krennic and save Jyn.

Donnie Yen as Chirrut Îmwe

But wait, the plans haven't reached Princess Leia yet, because the physical file has to be delivered and the door is jammed. Oh, and Darth Vader is coming. 

Now, I'll admit, this sequence is pretty badass. In a homage to his first appearance in Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope, Vader breaks through a door and appears from the blackness with his red saber to slaughter a hallway full of rebels. Is it necessary? No, because the rebel at the end of the hallway simply hands the file off through the jammed door. 

It looked awesome, though. Much of the film did did. The strength is unquestionably its visuals. Edwards succeeds in creating the quintessential Star Wars atmosphere that make the films so engrossing. Sprawling landscapes and smooth fly-by space shots from cinematographer Greig Fraser make Rogue One watchable. 

And it is watchable. It's just much more dramatic than it needs to be. In the original script, all of the main characters survived. Eventually, though, Edwards pitches to Disney to kill them off heroically in the name of the rebellion — to his surprise, he gets the green light. So, in the revised script, each one of the main characters gets their own overblown, melodramatic death shot. In Saw Gerrera's (Forest Whitaker) case, we know almost nothing about him. Just that he fought the rebel fight and left Jyn behind on some mission. We don't know much about any of the main characters, actually.

So, why can't they just get shot like everyone else? Why does Donnie Yen's character (an older blind man in touch with the force) have to walk across the battlefield and open up a communication line for the rebels before perishing in an explosion? Why can't Vader slaughter the main characters like Edwards and company pondered? Disney, I guess.

Stormtroopers on the beach, oh my

So much of Rogue One felt like trying too hard. So much of it felt forced. Just because you find old film canisters from the original trilogy in the Lucas Films warehouse doesn't mean you have to insert them into the new film.

I fully understand that Rogue One is not only part of a franchise, but part of an entire culture. I understand that if R2D2 and C3PO aren't thrown into the film to retain the only "been in every Star Wars film" credit or that if there isn't at least one lightsaber, backlash from the fans is coming. But can't you just make a great film? There's never anything wrong with that.

For such a gutsy mission and a monumental story, there really isn't anything gutsy or monumental about Rogue One.

— EE

A Seamless Real-Life Masterpiece — MANCHESTER BY THE SEA

MANCHESTER BY THE SEA
2016 — 137 minutes — Drama
Director: Kenneth Lonergan
Country: United States
IMDB: 8.5
Metacritic: 96
RT: 97%

EpicEnthusiast's Rating: A

Watch this movie if you enjoy: 

• dramas

• Casey Affleck

• small town stories/New England

• Michelle Williams

Avoid this movie if you dislike:

• profanity

• family dramas

(spoilers below)

Manchester by the Sea is the type of film you wish would keep going, but you couldn't possibly ask anything more of.

The story revolves around Casey Affleck's character, Lee Chandler, a Boston handyman that seems dead inside. He moves from building to building unclogging toilets, shoveling snow and painting walls with little to no positive emotion and eventually receives a phone call that forces him to drive back up to his hometown.

We find out that Chandler is dead inside much before we find out why he's so reluctant to go back to Manchester-by-the-Sea (a real town on the northern coast of Massachusetts, population roughly 5,000), but the circumstances more than serve as a proper build-up to the unspeakable tragedy he can't get past.

Lee's brother Joe, played by Kyle Chandler, has suddenly passed away and he's called on Lee to be the guardian of his 16-year-old son, Patrick, in his will. The problem is they never discussed it and as director/writer Kenneth Lonergan (You Can Count on Me, Margaret) made clear in the opening minutes of the film, Lee is far from fit to be a parent. Not like he used to be.

Casey Affleck (right) as Lee Chandler and Kyle Chandler as Joe Chandler.

His relationship with Patrick is one you might expect from a deeply scarred uncle and a grieving nephew. It's often awkward, unsure and filled with profanity. But like just about everything in Manchester by the Sea, it's incredibly real.

Matt Damon, a producer of the film, was originally set to direct and star as Lee, and despite what he brings to the screen, the story benefitted greatly from his scheduling conflicts (The Martian). It's tough to imagine Damon in such a hard-hitting, small-town role that demands so much. He's a far cry from the young, feisty Boston janitor in Good Will Hunting.

Affleck, however, plays Lee to perfection. His scruffy hair, worn-out t-shirts and bar fights are fitting because they're real. When Lonergan finally gives us the source of his grief in a somehow seamless, gut-wrenching flashback, it's heartbreaking not only in nature, but because Lee was content just prior. In an earlier flashback of the same night, we see him drunk, laughing and messing around with friends in the basement. It's one of the few times in the film we see Lee smiling.

The contrast of what happens later in the evening is dangerously sharp, and it's Affleck that makes it so devastating. Lonergan said, "People find ways to live with tragedy. But some people don't. And maybe they deserve to get a movie about them, too." They certainly do, and Affleck follows up noteworthy roles in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Gone Baby Gone, and Out of the Furnace with an unquestioned career best.

His Oscar-worthy performance dominates the screen and carries you seamlessly through the story. The entire film is seamless.

Lee (Casey Affleck) with his nephew Patrick (Lucas Hedges).

Lee Chandler is a fascinating character that intersects with a vulnerable teenager in need of an adult figure in his life. Sure, Patrick has two girlfriends, cusses at his hockey coach and is sometimes unlikeable. He's flawed, just like Lee is flawed. And by the end of the film, they need each other.

That's why the plot details don't matter. You trust Lonergan as a storyteller very early on and know that whatever happens to Lee and Patrick will be authentic. It might be troubling and it might be painful, but real life often is. Manchester by the Sea is about real life.

So much so that arguably its most impactful scene takes place in a beat-up old alleyway of Manchester-by-the-Sea. While Lee is still in town taking care of funereal arrangements and living with Patrick, he runs into his ex-wife Randi, played by Michelle Williams. Randi is walking with her friend and newborn son and stops Lee to talk.

She "doesn't have anything big to say," but wants to apologize for things she said to him after the accident. She admits that, despite a new husband and a new child, she loves Lee. "Maybe she shouldn't say that," but Lee tells her she's allowed to say that. He can't stay and talk and he can't have lunch with her in the future, but she's allowed to say that.

Michelle Williams as Randi Chandler speaking with Lee.

How is that one of Manchester by the Sea's most memorable and impactful scenes involves a character that's on screen for just a few minutes? Michelle Williams deserves a lot of the credit and will have a fourth chance at an Oscar. Primarily, though, it's because Lonergan's dialogue is impeccable. As if he took his camera crew up to a little town in Massachusetts and somehow came across a startling example of pure, raw human emotion.

It's the kind of story that can only take place in a town like Manchester-by-the-Sea. A story that's too big for Hollywood. Lonergan has absolute control over it and in just his third feature film, he's created a masterpiece.

The scenes that make it so touching are the ones that maybe even he wasn't planning on. The scenes where Patrick tells Lee "Let's just go" and Lee thinks he means let's drive away and not go see his dead father inside the hospital, so he floors it while Patrick is getting out of the car. They shout, they tell each other off and they apologize.

They co-exist in a town, in a life, that is severely messed up. So messed up that the every-day moviegoer can relate to it. It's not often that a filmmaker is so brutally honest with the audience.

— EE

As of December 21, 2016, Manchester by the Sea is in theaters everywhere.

9 Spectacular Opening Scenes

Every once in a while, you sit down to watch a film and your jaw has already hit the floor by the time the opening credits roll. I wanted to make this phenomenon the center of my next blog post. While it doesn't always guarantee a film will stay high quality throughout its duration, a stellar opening scene can go a long way in reeling you into its atmosphere and story. I've highlighted nine films below that I think do this very well. 

One caveat - I define opening "scene" loosely here - some of my examples are opening credits, others are just a minute or two long, while a few are extended sequences. Basically, the scene had to come very close to the beginning of the movie with the obvious intention of establishing the tone of the film.

(SPOILERS - DUH. Also some NSFW content)

The Goonies (1985) - Car Chase

Watching Stranger Things last month got me thinking about The Goonies, and how it really has held up well over the years. The film features exciting action sequences, hilarious dialogue, and a stellar ensemble cast. All three are on display in the opening scene as the criminal Fratelli family races through small-town Oregon to escape the pursuing police. Along they way, the chase passes by most of the Goonies, who are out and about in town. This 4-minute sequence introduces us to nearly all the important characters in the film and tells us a lot about their personalities in just a few seconds of screen-time each. My favorite bit (aside from Chunk's classic milkshake spill) is Mother Fratelli nonchalantly snacking on a biscuit while driving a 4-wheel drive Jeep at high speeds, all while dodging bullets from the police. Cool as a cucumber, she's not one to be trifled with.

Dave Grusin's rousing score and Richard Donner's expert direction cement this scene one of my favorites in the movie.

Pulp Fiction (1994) - The Diner

Like 1992's Reservoir Dogs, Quentin Tarantino opens his seminal Pulp Fiction with a seemingly-innocuous scene in a diner, where characters talk about basically nothing of importance. Here, Tarantino's innovative use of non-linear storytelling starts right away. Those of you who've seen Pulp Fiction know this scene is ultimately critical to the plot of the climax of the film, but upon first viewing it appears totally out of context to the main story. 

All that aside, the dialogue itself it just hysterical, and acted to perfection by Tim Roth. The absolute over-the-top conclusion to this scene lets the audience know they're in for one heck of a cinematic ride!





Sunset Blvd (1950) - The Pool

Sunset Blvd is my favorite film of all time. For me, pretty much every single scene in the movie is perfect. The opening is no exception. Set to a menacing score by the famous Franz Waxman, Sunset Blvd opens to a mysterious narrator informing us about a grisly murder on Hollywood's famous Sunset Boulevard. A screenwriter has been found dead in the house pool of an aging silent film star. We quickly learn that the narrator is in fact the dead screenwriter, and spend the rest of the film learning how he ended up in that pool. The scene sets a creepy and melancholy mood that pervades the remainder of the film. 

Coincidentally, Sunset Blvd also features one of cinema's greatest endings, with the famous line "Alright Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up!" Directed by the great Billy Wilder, this incisive commentary on Hollywood is a must-see for any lover of cinema.

Zombieland (2009) - Opening Credits (warning - gore / nudity)

Zombieland is just pure fun from start to finish. It has all the hallmarks of a good zombie movie - thrills, scares, and buckets of blood - but also functions as an excellent comedy. The opening sequence lays out series of "rules" by which one must abide if they wish to survive in this post-apocalyptic zombieland. The consequences of breaking said rules are made apparent in a hilarious fashion. Immediately afterwards, the audience is treated to a hysterical slow motion montage of zombie mayhem accompanied by Metallica's epic track, "For Whom The Bell Tolls". 

Touch Of Evil (1957) - Tracking Shot

While I'm not the biggest fan of the film overall, Orson Welles' famous noir Touch Of Evil certainly has one of the greatest opening scenes in cinematic history. It's one of the longest and most intricate tracking shots of all time, beginning with a ticking bomb placed in the trunk of a car. The cars' occupants, unaware of their impending doom, drive slowly through the streets of a Mexican border town, crossing paths several times with the protagonist and his wife, who are out for an evening stroll. The tension climbs steadily throughout the scene as the audience doesn't know when the bomb will go off. The level of detail needed to pull off an uninterrupted shot like this is insane, especially with so many things going on in the background. The way the focus of the scene shifts from the car initially to the protagonist and then to both is just brilliant.

Definitely worth checking out.





The Dark Knight (2008) - Bank Robbery Scene

This scene needs no introduction, since all of you probably saw it in theaters. Needless to say, this thrilling bank robbery sequence, tautly directed by Christopher Nolan, serves as an eerie introduction to The Joker. More importantly, it sets the mood - that of a crime drama instead of a typical superhero movie. That dynamic certainly made The Dark Knight more memorable than it might have been otherwise.

When A Stranger Calls (1979) - "Have You Checked The Children?"

Sure, the rest of the film is rubbish, by my goodness, the first 20 minutes of When A Stranger Calls may constitute the most terrifying sequence in any horror film I've seen. Famously parodied by Wes Craven's Scream, in the scene a teenage babysitter receives a series of increasingly-menacing calls from a disturbed individual who keeps asking her to "check the children", who are supposedly asleep upstairs. After 15 minutes of suspenseful build-up, a now-famous reveal occurs when the police dial back and notify the babysitter that the calls have been coming from inside the house. 

The first time I watched this film, it was 1AM and I was alone in my pitch-black college dorm room. Needless to say, I had a difficult time falling asleep that night.





The Social Network (2010) - Opening Dialogue

Anyone who follows this blog probably knows I am a huge fan of The Social Network. The pairing of David Fincher's meticulous direction with Aaron Sorkin's superb dialogue is a match made in heaven. 

Though simple in setting, the opening scene of the film perfectly establishes Mark Zuckerburg's character and tells us pretty much everything we need to know about him in just a few minutes. Equal parts ingenious, ambitious, and totally callous, Jesse Eisenberg's Zuckerburg is captivating to watch, even though (as his girlfriend points out) he's a massive asshole.





Blade Runner (1982) - Los Angeles 2019

I consider Ridley Scott's Blade Runner one of the most visually-stunning films of all time. Hugely influential, this gritty adaptation of Philip K. Dick's famous novel, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, paints a stunning vision of a dystopian Los Angeles. Considered by many to be one of the best examples of both the neo-noir and cyberpunk genres, it remains Scott's best film to date and a hallmark in American science fiction cinema.

The opening scene introduces the audience to the foreign entity that is 2019 Los Angeles, smothered in smog and covered in perpetual darkness. An ethereal score by Vangelis sets the mood as the camera slowly advances across an industrial landscape punctuated with bursts of flame and flying cars. Meanwhile, a very human-looking eye observes the landscape. 

Beauty in (apparent) simplicity - that's the name of the game here. The visual effects on display hold up astoundingly well. 




Hope you enjoyed these great opening scenes. Let me know what your favorites are!

-CC

West Texas is No Country for Old Men - HELL OR HIGH WATER

HELL OR HIGH WATER
2016 — 102 minutes — Crime/Drama
Director: David Mackenzie
Country: United States
IMDB: 8.3
Metacritic: 88
RT: 99%

EpicEnthusiast's Rating: A-

Watch this movie if you enjoy: 

• crime dramas

• cowboys/Texas rangers

• No Country for Old Men

• Jeff Bridges

Avoid this movie if you dislike:

• westerns/Southwest culture

• violence

(spoilers below)

Hell or High Water isn't revolutionary. It doesn't set new standards or beg any questions within the crime genre. It won't win four Oscars or go down in history. It's just a great film.

Chris Pine (Star Trek fame) and Ben Foster (previously a cowboy in 3:10 to Yuma) pair up as two vastly different west Texan brothers. While Foster's character Tanner was in prison for a gnarly crime, Pine's character Toby was taking care of their dying mother and dealing with a looming divorce. One is a dull, violent ticking time-bomb. The other is a reserved, caring father with a bit of a dark side. With their mother's ranch in danger of being seized by the bank, Toby goes to Tanner with a daring plan.

In an attempt to rid of what Toby calls the disease of being poor — one that's been running in his family for generations — he proposes that he and Tanner rob branches of Texas Midlands Bank, the very bank that would seize the ranch. As expressed in the film, there's nothing more Texan than robbing a bank and paying them back with their own money.

Surprisingly, the plan is just as detailed as it is desperate — after swapping the cash (loose bills only) out for poker chips and then a check at the casino, the funds are untraceable. But, like any great crime saga, law enforcement isn't far behind.

Chris Pine and Ben Foster in Hell or High Water

Jeff Bridges, who is also no stranger to the cowboy hat (see, True Grit), plays Marcus Hamilton, an old loner Texas Ranger on the brink of retirement. In a very similar role as Tommy Lee Jones in No Country for Old Men, Hamilton thinks he's seen it all until the Howard brothers come around. Ultimately, the bank-robbery spree takes a toll on him and puts a damper on his retirement.

From the very opening shot of Hell or High Water,  director David Mackenzie makes it clear that atmosphere is his priority. Filmed entirely near the Texas border in New Mexico, the landscape in the film is eerily authentic. Complete with cattle, concealed-carry gun permits, and Shiner Bock beer, it's a pitch-perfect setting for the gritty storyline. In fact, it's the only setting the story could take place.

The robberies are a far cry from other famous depictions in Heat or The Town. Toby and Tanner typically hit the branches first thing in the morning, and in rural Texas, that means no one's in the bank. The one's that are there, a snarky old teller or a curious old cowboy, are almost unfazed by guns. Everyone's walking around with a pistol and questions of why the brothers are robbing the bank are far more prominent than why a gun is being shoved in their face.

To dispose of a getaway car in Boston or Los Angeles, you might torch it or store it in a garage. To dispose of a getaway car in west Texas, you might take it back to the family ranch and bury in a pre-dug ditch. It's these nuances of the landscape that make Hell or High Water so engrossing. Yes, it's Jeff Bridges in his usual dominance and yes, it's beautiful cinematography, but it's that six pack of Lone Star siting on the worn-down plastic porch table that ties it all together.

Jeff Bridges as Marcus Hamilton

As a whole, the film takes on a sometimes stoic and steady tone, but thanks in part to the script by Taylor Sheridan (Sicario), it never drags. Bridges delivers balance with his quick wit and sarcastic quips about his half Native American, half Mexican partner, but it all meshes well with the otherwise tense storyline. When Toby and Tanner resort to hitting a larger branch in Post, things go sour and the bullets finally start flying — despite a couple questionable decisions from patrons attempting to push back, Mackenzie is up to the challenge. The gunfight sequences are taut and just as brutal as they should be.

In one standout scene, Tanner pulls out an assault rifle and starts spraying rounds at a group of trucks that followed him and Toby from the bank in Post. Their attempt to take justice into their own hands is quickly turned away, but the most notable aspect of the scene is Tanner actually reloading the rifle. We've grown accustomed to unlimited bullets and remarkable accuracy in shootouts on screen, and the fact that Tanner's clips were used quickly was oddly refreshing. Again, the authenticity in Hell or High Water taking over.

The same can be said about the writing and the dialect of the characters. Pine, born in Los Angeles, and Foster, born in Boston, pose quite convincing Texan accents that are really put to the test by Sheridan's work. Foster has proven to be a versatile actor over his career, but for Pine, making the drastic transformation from space to farm land, it was quite the breakthrough. 

Even more impressive than the acting from Pine and Foster, though, was the chemistry. In the moments it's needed most, both are thoroughly convincing as brothers. They were always meant to go down separate paths, but when those paths collide in a time of need, it's clearly meaningful to both of them. In one sequence, after finishing up a meal in a diner, Tanner eyes a different bank across the street and decides to go on a solo run while Toby finishes his steak. With his shirt stuffed with bills, Tanner runs out of the bank and yells at Toby to start the car. Overwhelmed by having to man the getaway, he eventually says "I must've been truly desperate to ask you for help." He was desperate, but he knew his brother and knew the plan wasn't possible without him. 

Filming location in Clovis, New Mexico

While it's hard to imagine the plot of Hell or High Water as a brotherly bonding experience, it truly feels that way by the end of the film. In one stunning shot of dusk on the ranch, Tanner and Toby shove each other around with beers in hand and the natural New Mexican light shining down on them. It brings a rare smile from Toby and it's here that the depth of the story is revealed. 

In one final questioning at the end of the film, in which Hamilton is digging for answers, he eventually has to put on a show for Toby's ex-wife that shows up and says "It's amazing what we do for our kids, isn't it?" That's what the plan was all about for Toby — his son, who he hadn't seen in person in over a year, would not be infected with the disease that broke his family. 

In some ways, Hell or High Water is a family film. You'd be hard-pressed to find a more American film, and in turn, you'd be hard-pressed to find a Hollywood film with the same impact. Deep in the Texan landscape is a subtle, yet heartfelt story of a father looking out for his kids. It turns violent because it has to, not because Mackenzie wants it to.

He reminds us that there's often real beauty in real crime.

-EE

As of August 29, 2016, Hell or High Water is in theaters everywhere. Here's the trailer: