Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Retrospective Collection: Star Trek: Generations


Star Trek: Generations


      Legendary captains Kirk and Picard share the screen in the seventh Star Trek film.

      Two weeks ago I kicked off this "Retrospective Collection" thing with The Sandlot, a movie loved by all who know it.  Last week I continued with The Fugitive, a movie loved by all who know it, and also a best picture nominee.  This week I'm doing Star Trek: Generations, a movie loved by some who grew up with it.  Even among Star Trek fans, this movie is not particularly well-liked.  However, I am one who grew up with it and I love it.  And as stated before - we are a movie blog.  We do what we want.

      This movie's single claim to fame that none can deny is that it is actually the only time Picard and Kirk share the screen.  That alone makes this movie Star Trek incarnate, basically.  It also leads to cinema's best old man fight at the end, because the bad guy also has white hair.

      I'm only half joking about Star Trek: Generations being Star Trek incarnate.  It's not the best Star Trek film, but it might represent Star Trek best.  The scope, the purpose, and the dignity of Star Trek are on full display.  The music, similarly to the movie, is not the best music in Star Trek, but it is the most representative.  I'm not sure how else to say it.  The music has dignity.  You can hear the valor of our heroes, and the reality of the danger they face.

      I like the reboot Star Trek movies, and they've been edging closer and closer to this dignity of Star Trek that I'm talking about, but it's still missing from those three new ones, while Generations is simply drooling with it.  Yes.  Drooling with dignity, I said that.  It's an X factor that you can really tell is missing when it's missing.

      Last week I said The Fugitive was special because of its lean toward realism and its subdued thrills.  But perhaps all of that is a product of the era, as Generations feels likewise subdued by today's standards.  It feels like it comes from a time when producers pushed character and story more than action and visual effects.  Hardcore trekkies would give me a lot of crap for saying that, but I don't care.

      I own this movie because my cousin bought it for me for my nineteenth birthday.  Suffice it to say that, for a film lover like myself, my collection is pretty exclusive.  And I'm happy to include this one.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Retrospective Collection: The Fugitive


The Fugitive


      A man on the run must prove his innocence.

      Why does one thriller stand out from another?  What is it about The Fugitive that makes it just as good today as it was twenty-three years ago?  What makes it last?

      I think most thrillers aim to thrill first, and tell a story second.  Turn the tension up to ten and leave it there.  Think the Tom Cruise War of the Worlds.  It never lets up.  I can't really say anything bad about that format.  It can work really really well, and a lot of people enjoy it.

      What makes The Fugitive different, and aids tremendously in its longevity, is the credibility, or believability.  The suspension of disbelief is so far ahead of the action on the screen that you would believe it was based on a true story.  In most thrillers and action movies the suspension of disbelief is riding the action like a surfer riding a wave - right there on the leading edge.  You risk the surfer falling off and everything being very uncool, but if the surfer stays in front it's awesome.  In the case of The Fugitive, the suspension of disbelief is catching some rays on the beach, and just has to move its towel now and then to keep dry.

      It's not that the filmmakers made tame action sequences either.  Everyone remembers the famous set piece where Harrison Ford jumps off the dam.  Therein lies some of the magic.  Watching the movie, you'd swear you'd jump too.

      The credibility is not limited to the action scenes by any means.  The detail in the set design and set decoration is astonishing, yet hardly noticeable.  It's very difficult to tell which are sets and which are actual locations.  The actors never went too far with any lines.  And there were many practical shots that lended credibility like nothing else can.  I don't mean things as simple as real explosions, I mean a real train crash for goodness sake.  Has any other movie done a practical full-size train crash?  This is all not even mentioning the helicopter shots, the shots with dozens of extras, or the fact that the U.S. Marshall's office was clearly actually filmed in a skyscraper in Chicago.  The little things add up very fast in this movie.  By the end of it I can almost remember seeing Richard Kimble on an episode of America's Most Wanted.

      The dialogue is another high point worth mentioning.  There isn't really a single exposition scene in the whole movie, yet by the end you know exactly who did what and why.  And like all good dialogue it makes you believe that these characters had a life before this movie and will continue their life after the movie.  Also, much of the bickering between Tommy Lee Jones' character and his deputies serves the second purpose of easing off of, and offering comedic release from the depressive and downtrodden tone of all the Richard Kimble scenes.  Before the climax of the movie, this depressive feel over Harrison Ford's scenes only lets up once, when he "acts like Mother Theresa" - as Joe Pantoliano's character puts it - and redirects a hospitalized child from observation to surgery, saving the child's life.  For just a moment we see Richard Kimble's ability to help people and the satisfaction he gets from it.  With this scene we want Richard to clear his name so he can help people again.  Without it, he might be a lot like the doctor who framed him, in it for the prestige and the money.

      Rather ironically, the only thing about The Fugitive that is played up is the realism.  And while I can confidently say that this realism makes The Fugitive unique, I can't say that it makes the film special all by itself.  In the end I think what really makes this movie special is the incredible work done by all involved, and the way it comes together so well.  I can name plenty of movies where it is clear that everyone involved believed in the project and had the skills needed, but the pieces don't always come together well.  With The Fugitive it's like it was meant to be.  No smoke and mirrors, no sleight of hand.  Just brilliant filmmaking.

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Retrospective Collection: The Sandlot


The Sandlot


      A childhood summer in America put to film.

      It is not at all uncommon for children to be the main characters of a film.  They're typically adventure stories and the children usually get involved in some very adult conflicts.  Most stories told from the perspective of children follow a similar pattern.  It's children vs adults.  Think Home Alone, E.T., Super 8 (J.J. Abrams' love letter to Spielberg films), or the very recent example of Stranger Things.

      The wonderful and unique thing about The Sandlot is that it's about children living through children things.  There are no shady government agencies involved in cover ups, or burglars breaking into a house.  The single greatest source of conflict in the whole movie is the loss of a treasured collectible.  How true to childhood is that?

      It goes further.  There is no alien friend with fantastic powers that you wish you had as a kid.  Benny Rodriguez is the admired older friend that you probably did have as a kid.  The Sandlot is designed to recall every American childhood.

      Strictly speaking, it's not even a narrative picture.  The conflict that stands out (getting the ball back from the beast) doesn't even begin until we're an hour in - and is resolved less than a half hour later.  Sure, it's teased in a couple spots in the narration, but in the meantime we have other experiences laid out before us that are relatable to every American raised at home.  What did you do as a kid in the summer?  You went out to make friends, you fought to be accepted, you made bad decisions, and your friends helped you through them.  Losing something that is precious, having a crush on a girl in the neighborhood, or just spending every waking moment with your friends, it's all relatable.  You could almost call them vignettes of a childhood summer in America.

      You will find it funny how seriously these kids treat all their problems - and even more so how seriously the movie itself treats their problems.  But isn't that true to life as well?  How many problems did you make worse as a child because you were afraid to ask for help from an adult?  You didn't tell your parents, you got your friends to help you.  And the logic was sound.  To you it made sense.  To you it was the biggest problem you ever faced, and when you and your friends ever found a solution by yourselves, it was a giant victory.

      I own two of the three Captain America movies, and The Sandlot is my most American movie.  If ever a foreign friend asks you what it was like growing up in the states, point them to this movie.  They may not get it, but at least they'll see it.