film-critic

Before any discussion of this film, there must be a line drawn between the politics of the film versus the way this film was created. Being a Truffaut fan, I didn't want to miss his idiosyncrasies within a scene merely because the politics of book burning were overwhelming. Yes, one understands that this is a film adaptation of "Fahrenheit 451", a beloved classic that gives booksellers inspiration every time it is read, but also this is a Truffaut film. Several reviews state that Truffaut did an excellent job with the direction, and then spend four paragraphs discussing our society and its apathetic ways toward literature. In this discussion of this film, there will be a solid line between Truffaut's direction and Bradbury's themes. Was one stronger than the other? Did Truffaut's adaptation muddy Bradbury's final thoughts? While you may agree or disagree with my discoveries, one needs to realize that this was a film watched, not a book read. Did Truffaut satisfy the main discourses of film enjoyment? Was it entertaining? Did it spark debate? Did it decorate strong characters? For this reviewer, Truffaut's "Fahrenheit 451" was a mixed bag of cinematic delight. The characters, albeit well fit within the realm of Bradbury, just felt mediocre. Their direction seemed wooden, while the camera focus seemed misplaced for a majority of the film. Again, like most Truffaut, it was colorful, but he just didn't seem himself until the final act – where Bradbury's ideas and Truffaut's direction finally congealed together. "Fahrenheit 451" was an adaption, but not one that stands among the infamous.

Our troubles begin in this film with our lead, Guy Montag (played by "Jules and Jim" lead, Oskar Werner), who obviously hated working for Truffaut and this project. Despite the rumor that the two clashed at every opportunity, Werner gave one of the worst performances seen for a long time. When Truffaut couldn't get Terrance Stamp for his first choice, the lackluster Werner stepped in, and the downfall of this film began. Werner gave nothing for audiences to attach themselves to. There was no emotion, no big moment of empathy, no excitement. Werner went from one scene to the next, allowing his sleepy eyes to provide us with just enough to cope with the hour and a half running time. He was horrible as a "Fireman", and even less convincing as a man with a sudden passion for the written word. There were moments when laughter was more suitable than viable emotion. This is supposed to be a tense film, a confusing film, a film where the emotion surrounding books becomes a greater asset than the material objects that Montag possessed. Alas, this wasn't the case. With the supposed anger surrounding our lead and director, only the lessons of Styrofoam and cardboard were used. Thankfully, there was Julie Christie mixed within the story to heighten the side bits. Feeling a bit Brunel-ian, Christie was used as two characters in this film, providing an opportunity for Truffaut to demonstrate a particular emotion with books and without them. While Christie wasn't Oscar-worthy, she did allow for an appealing appetizer to the dismal main course (Werner). She and Cyril Cusack (The Captain), anointed with the task of keeping the film together, managed to save this film from utter disappointment to sheer mediocrity.

What makes "Fahrenheit 451" an interesting film to self-explode, is not only the odd direction by Truffaut, but the powerful camera work by one Nicolas Roeg (the man who later gave us "The Man Who Fell To Earth"). All of the colors, the shots as they were filmed, and the choices of camera placement were, possibly, the second only greatest moment of this film. I credit Roeg for giving us the unsettling feel of this film. The contrast from the bold colors of red in the community with the bland colors of inside Montag's home (and elsewhere) forced the setting upon us in a good way. As Truffaut and Werner were arguing with each other, Roeg was creating a film – and it is obvious as the visuals of this film looked creative, but everything else came nowhere close.

Finally, without giving away the ending, one has to admit that the ending to this film was Truffaut finally finding his way again. Suddenly, when Montag found his real "home", it became obvious that Truffaut found his comfort zone. He understood this film, and the ending wrapped up brilliantly. The direction, the voice, the visuals – they all seemed to come together in a way that shocked even myself. If only the rest of the film had been this way … what a surprising film this would have been.

Overall, I believe this film, if done correctly, could be the first science fiction film ever to win an Oscar for best film. The themes are universal and the looming future is closer than we think. Yet, Truffaut could not handle this. He and Werner's arguing created a difficult mess of mixed emotions and sub-par casting. Roeg's scenes were brilliant, but couldn't save this sinking ship. "Fahrenheit 451" had potential, but failed on nearly every level. If you choose to view this film, check out the final scene in which Truffaut finally understands Bradbury's work. Why did it take so long to discover the true meaning of the written page? Urg.

Grade: ** out of ***** (two stars for Roeg and Christie ONLY)

In this tired tale, two brothers – semi-content with playing a lounge or two here or there – living in the past, consider the option of bringing a female singer into the act. One is the organizer, one is the chain-smoking wild-card that continually impresses the ladies, yet has a stronger passion for the keys. It won't take a rocket scientist to realize which is which based on mere talent alone. Throw into the mix a husky female singer, a mistaken love, and chaos between a seemingly stable piano act. As our film winds down, cliché over recycled cliché is used to tear these brothers apart, and slowly bring them back together – in an awkward way. While the film boasts collaboration between two of Hollywood's biggest brothers (one a recent Oscar winner), great piano music, and the quintessential red-dress-on-piano scene, what this film actually delivers is merely a tired script, an overused plot devise, and lines that could have been promoted by anyone with an Acting 101 degree. While the concept seems dramatic, the final result of this feature (despite the numerous awards) felt disappointing. Brotherly love destroyed by inevitable change?

There were a couple of small elements to this film that worked, ensuring that "The Fabulous Baker Boys" was more than just a one-star movie. Bridges, muscled down by the day-to-day life of being a piano player, is watchable. His apathy towards all situations coupled with his "Joe Cool" smoking-attitude, creates the correct amount of tension with unknown to keep the plot slowly moving in the right direction. Beau, the weaker big-screen actor (better able to manage the television roles), tries to keep up, but what tries to be anger ends up just being a man with big eyes and anger-spit. But, on with the positives…the Bridges' music was, for lack of a better word, fabulous. Without making the guess if it was them playing, the tone of each of the songs respectively worked in their scenes. Along with the music, the visions of LA worked to show that in a city that never sleeps, these two brothers will always have work. Keep the drinks flowing, and you are sure to be a crowd pleaser.

With some slight parts to make you enjoy the hour and a half of a band's destruction, the rest just crumbled quickly. To begin, while the pairing of Beau and Jeff seemed powerful on paper, the screen told otherwise. Absolutely, the two were able to play their respective roles well – Jeff the darkened, smoking, looming brother – while Beau played the optimist, looking to keep his dream (or business) alive. The issue with the Bridges' is that they are too far apart. There is never a scene to show their chemistry together as amazing pianists. Instead, we see through posters that at once they were happy, but those days are long gone. We begin our film on a downtrodden note, and it never quite picks itself up from that even when the brothers seem to be back on top again. Director Steve Kloves never gives us, the audience, an opportunity to cheer for Jeff and Beau's happiness. Instead, we are forced to suffer right along with them, picking ourselves up after each depressing hour. The same can be said for Pfeiffer, and while Oscar-nomination, Golden Globe-winning, still means something – her portrayal of Susie Diamond just wasn't breakthrough enough to be remembered after 1990. The prostitute-turned-singer routine has been done in Hollywood, over and over and over; and not to sound repetitive, better. Pfeiffer's husky voice (at times in tune, at times not), and butch demeanor, did create a sex-symbol, but instead another tragic character. While I agree, the story isn't conducive to happiness; somebody should have considered it as an opportunity to see these characters differently. It would have added a new layer to their characters, allowing for a stronger emotional punch at the end.

As our characters floundered through their roles, playing piano and off-beat singing, the story was another part that just fell short – forcing our characters to have mixed material to work with and missed character opportunity. "The Fabulous Baker Boys" as a film doesn't work, as a television mini-series perhaps it would have been better. There is too much left on the table from writer-director Kloves that nothing evolves. Scenes like upstairs neighbor of Jeff's that is like his mother, busting the dog out of the vet, smelling bathroom equipment, and destroying memorabilia, look good on paper, but without the correct backing just doesn't feel finished. That is the overall feel with "Baker Boys", a sense that scenes, moments, and plot-points went unfinished. Kloves isn't the best in handling the talent he has hired. From leaving cameramen in shots to overusing the piano music, Kloves believes in his work (there is no argument there), but his execution is fallible. Why would you use piano music as your theme music when the Bridges are playing piano music as well? This was horrible. With strong keys being played by the brothers, the cheesy background music just diluted the overall feel. It is the perfect example of having authentic reality and a cheap knock-off. With lacking characters, it would be up to Kloves to cover the differences, but he can't control what is happening. His camera direction, musical focus, and story have too many flawed plot holes that instead of a creative story, we are left with a sad overused cliché. I would agree that these boys are "Fabulous", but Kloves couldn't prove it. His scientific directional equation remains a hypothesis.

Overall, I wasn't a fan of this film. Our mood, music, and plot points were all misused and poorly developed. Our story, cliché after cliché, didn't feel original or exciting. There needed to be some brightness at the end of our tunnel, but nobody could demonstrate this. It was corrosive and disappointing.

Grade: * ½ out of *****

Like the roar of a lion or the maniacal laugh of thousands, Andy Griffith burst on the screen with a performance unmatched in the past 53 years. Using the direction of the infamous Elia Kazan, and words by Budd Schulberg, "A Face in the Crowd" transformed from a personal struggle with fame into a political statement of power. Since the birth of radio and television, or even before, the concept of celebrity followed side by side. This select 1% of the population was used to sell ads, promote products, and lastly, entertain the populous. Not much has changed as Hollywood has evolved; the wealthy still control and the audience still depend on their favorite voice to tell them what to get at the grocery store. The interesting point about this, explored deeply in Schulberg's script, is how quickly the mass audiences can casual drop one figure and follow anew. As one reads this review, the teens may have forgotten the Jonas Brothers and found a new follower, our Late Night hosts may all have new faces, and our "Avatar" may not be barreling through the theaters. Even as I write this, it feels stale. Surprisingly, watching "A Face in the Crowd" for the first time, there was a lack of preparedness for these points. One doesn't expect such a modern film found in 1957 (much less lead by the sheriff of Mayberry), but within the first twenty minutes, the average viewer will be surprised by what the screen allows. With bold direction, amazing acting, and valid, detailed points about our entertainment industry, "A Face in the Crowd" makes its mark in 1957 and remains valuable today in 2010 – one could even argue MORE valuable today.

While watching this film, there is one person that steals the screen in the opening minutes and never releases for a solid two hours. His name is Andy Griffith, and while he will always be known as the quintessential small town hero, his film debut proved his range went further. With a diabolical laugh, a country-boy appeal, and a voice that could swoon anyone within an earshot, he takes what should have been a role for a seasoned veteran, and creates this iconic role that, after watching the film, could only be done by Mayberry himself. From his introduction in a cell recovering from a drunken disorderly charge, he finds his escape in the form of Patricial Neal, who in turn, introduces Griffith to the world of radio; aka mass audiences. Using a form of trickery, Neal demonstrates Griffith's power and the world welcomes him (unsuspectingly) with open arms. The small town of Arkansas does anything he wants, but he doesn't stop there. By becoming our very first Howard Stern, he does what he wants and says anything at all – and becomes the infamous "Demigod in Denim". The shift in Griffith's character is subtle, yet somewhat planned. He portrays Lonesome Rhodes as a man inheriting luck, but the calculated look on his face indicates otherwise. That is the perplexity of Griffith, one believes that it is just him being himself, but he peppers within his lines these moments of unknown – where perhaps this was Rhodes' plan all along. Bridled next to both Neal, who adds a strong level of support, sexuality, and madness, and a youthful Walter Matthau who brings the final worded-axe down at the finale; it doesn't surprised the ability and range that Griffith had to accomplish. The acting in this film will not only surprise, but also impress. This is the type of quality that Hollywood could produce, yet rarely do we see.

Having just finished "Cabin in the Cotton", a film that used politics as a miscalculation to cinema, it was impressive to see Elia Kazan handle this issue with artistic talent as well as solid direction. Despite his dismay in Hollywood, his talent behind the camera glimmered in this feature as colors (blacks and whites) were bold, the symbolism was apparent, and the emotions were captured perfectly. He guided Neal through her tragic turn, while keeping Matthau solid as a rock throughout. He controlled Griffith, while allowing him to run throughout the scenes with ease. "Face in the Crowd" is a difficult film to direct, as there is both emotion and intent running rampant, but Kazan proves the he can handle Schulberg's words. There are scenes that just feel, and look, more modern than 1957. The one that immediately pops into mind is the montage surrounding Rhodes' introduction into Vitajex. The blend of animation, perverse snippets, and that disturbing laugh didn't feel old – it felt like a moment taken from 2010 (just in black and white). There are others like that scene throughout. The baton competition was one of the most intensely awkward scenes, as we knew what was happening, but didn't want to believe it. Again, modern ideas strewn throughout 1957, where the average '57 film felt didn't push the envelope – Kazan didn't care about the envelope.

Finally, Schulberg's script has to be one of the best Hollywood stories to come out of that town. The images of Griffith laughing stapled behind several TV antennae, just barely scares the average viewer. Schulberg, like Kazan, isn't afraid of his idea. He pushes from radio to television, an audience of one to millions upon millions, and finally guiding politicians into office. Does this feel like an old idea? The modern implications are outstanding. The language as well, coming from Griffith (who had to ad-lib some) is wildly entertaining, but subtly symbolic, and those final thoughts by Matthau require another viewing just to hear again. Everyone, from writing to direction to acting, gave "Face in the Crowd" more than 100% of their talent, and this critic believes that Griffith may have fallen into the Mayberry sinkhole too soon. If this was his ability, he was surely wasted in Hollywood.

Bravo across the board, BRAVO!

Grade: ***** out of *****