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The Trusted Outlaw (1937)
Modestly enjoyable, if a little flat and unremarkable
A diminutive runtime. An opening scene spotlighting a woman dancing, forthright dialogue (with mostly forthright delivery), the introduction of the protagonist, and an immediate fistfight before five minutes have passed. A very simple and straightforward plot. Yes, make no mistake, this is a western of the 30s, a western from the time when westerns were the Genre Du Jour just as superheroes are the Genre Du Jour today, with nearly equal simplicity and common traits. Mind you, I'm not badmouthing westerns at large any more than I am superhero flicks, and no, they're not all the same. In every genre, however, features exist on a spectrum from superb to awful, and another from unique to unremarkable. Mark 'The trusted outlaw' quite definitively as the sort that's rather middling and unremarkable.
There are fairly few traces of dynamics or nuance in the acting, and only irregularly (if not also infrequently) does an actor modulate their tone, inflection, expression, or posture in any especial fashion. In general the performances are flat and almost droning, and Robert N. Bradbury's direction is decidedly plainspoken - functional, but lacking vitality, style, or a personal touch. Even the sets and costume design, customarily a couple reliable facets of any western (or genre fare at large), come off as kind of modest. This isn't to say that there's no excitement at all, or that there's nothing to appreciate. The filming locations are beautiful, of course. We get fights, stunts, and practical effects, and they're swell, including the horse riding broadly and the climax, too. Some Bradbury arranges a particularly splendid shot, or Bert Longenecker has a moment to shine as cinematographer. Johnston McCulley's story is light but has plentiful potential as a lone man rides out with a gang on his trail; between McCulley's foundation and George H. Plympton and Fred Myton's screenplay, there are some welcome little details in the narrative, and in some scenes.
I do actually like this picture. It's suitably enjoyable, and good enough to provide that enjoyment, through to the cheesy but delightful ending. It's just that for all that it does well, and all the worthwhile ideas it has, it doesn't specifically stand out in any way, and it doesn't try too hard to stand out, either. For something uninvolved on a quiet day, this is decent enough to check out if you have the chance. Just keep your expectations in check, and don't go out of your way for it, and maybe that's the best way to get the most out of 'The trusted outlaw.'
The Forbidden City (1918)
So-so film-making, weak and questionable storytelling - not exactly a must-see
I love silent films. Some of the greatest films ever made hail from the silent era, many other contemporary titles are essential classics, and countless are simply treasures of another time. Not all silent films are equal, however, for they may bear flaws just as more modern fare might. Even more to the point, films from the world of 100 years ago don't always age well, reflecting values or ideas that are unfortunate, antiquated relics of the past. Take, for example, a film starring white U. S. actress Norma Talmadge as a Chinese princess. Take, for example, a story positing an affair between a Chinese woman and a white American man to be expressly prohibited by the Chinese, with the American man being a virtuous figure opposing the mores of a conservative society - as if white American racists weren't also roaring about miscegenation. Granted, it's not as if these matters don't infuriatingly persist decades later; how many actors have been cast as demographics to which they don't belong? How many backwards yokels still think societies should be organized according to color? And in fairness, it does seem that writer George Scarborough was intending to tell domestic audiences that arbitrary barriers between different peoples should be brought down, and the execution was just inelegant in doing so.
Yet even at our most magnanimous, 1918's 'The Forbidden City' has problems. Talmadge isn't the only white actor cast as a Chinese person. There is definitely a bit of yellowface makeup seen across these several reels. And even if the picture weren't so questionable with regards to race in particular, it's pretty much just as much so when it comes to broad portrayal of "Chinese culture." This takes a laughably simplistic approach to the slightest depiction of another society, as if anything more complex, nuanced, or realistic would have shocked contemporary audiences and made them clutch their pearls. (It is perhaps just as likely that no one involved in the production knew anything meaningful about China.) Dialogue imparted through intertitles, for example, the representation of Chinese characters' broken English, is stereotypical to the point of being racist. In fact, that's probably the best way to describe other facets of the production as it "shows us" China. And if Scarborough, screenwriter Mary Murillo, filmmaker Sidney Franklin, or producer Joseph M. Schenck really were just trying to encourage more open-mindedness in U. S. viewers, well, suggesting the abject villainy of an oppressive China while also suggesting the progressive freedom of the United States sure was a curious way to do it.
I'll allow that the production design and art direction are a sight for sore eyes, and the costume design is nice. Filming locations tend to be just as beautiful. The intertitles can boast a splendid touch with the font employed, and even more so with the illustrations that grace each. The acting is kind of bland and unremarkable in general, but some scattered moments are more commendable, and a couple minor stunts are well done. There was even a mote of possibility in the writing given the rudimentary foundation of star-crossed lovers, the sympathetic hues with which the entwined characters are painted, and the apparent intention that interracial marriage should be seen as something to be freely condoned as the meeting of two consenting hearts. Nevertheless, in both writing and direction I'm not so convinced that the drama is suitably capitalized upon to bring the weight of the tale and its themes to bear. The storytelling feels far too passive, not least in the last stretch, with some weak connecting threads. Furthermore, given the casting and the meager representation of another society, 'The Forbidden City' almost entirely fails to stick what I presume was the intended landing. In those moments that are meant to be most impactful, we're not watching an interracial couple, but two white people whose love has been restricted.
I don't think this feature is altogether bad. However, it plainly struggles to achieve what I'm inclined to think was the intended goal. In playing in a racial and cultural space, the movie's treatment of these notions is at least messy if not outright problematic, well-meaning or not. Further taking into account how thin and gentle the doing is at large, the sad fact of the matter is that there's not much reason to bother with this in the first place. Cinephiles and those already enamored of the silent era will take pleasure in dissecting and examining all the odds and ends herein, but the film-making makes no especial impression, and my thoughts on the storytelling are mixed at best. There are much worse ways to spend one's time, certainly, but unless you have a special reason to check this out, 'The Forbidden City' is unfortunately not an example of a silent film that has held up all that well.
Daai laap mat taam Ling Ling Fat (1996)
Overall very fun, a ridiculous blast of action and comedy
Even within only the first few minutes one can readily discern that this is the type of title where some of the humor (if not also the scene writing at large) will be lost on those who don't speak Cantonese, and who don't possess meaningful awareness of both Chinese and international culture. The protagonist's very name exemplifies this, toying with a reference to Ian Fleming's James Bond, 007, and more specifically the film franchise of Eon Productions - and further emphasized with the opening credits that allude to Eon Productions, the protagonist's obsession with inventions (gadgets), and more. After its own fashion, this is a spy spoof with a setting in the imperial China of several hundred years ago. By no means is any of this to suggest that 'Forbidden City cop' can't be enjoyed by international viewers, but the first impression it makes is as a feature that's very distinctly made for a domestic audience, further including film-making sensibilities that may catch off-guard even those who are accustomed to, for example, the kung fu flicks of The Shaw Brothers or Golden Harvest, or the action romps of Jackie Chan.
Incidentally, some of Jackie Chan's body of work may be a fair point of reference in general, for as an action-comedy this quite consistently embraces outrageous cartoonishness that's only amplified by the brisk pacing. We get wildly exaggerated expressions and acting, loud and boorish scenes sure to ruffle the feathers of anyone who is sensitive to audio, plain silliness, crude sex jokes, slapstick, and more. It's relatively infrequently that the humor relies on more subtle variations, like a witty exchange of dialogue, sight gags, or a bit drawn out over a scene with the punch coming at the end. To that point, perhaps we can say that what we're seeing is a reflection of comedy and film-making in a different culture, but I'm inclined to think these qualities tie into actual criticisms. That pacing is broadly so steady as to be vexing, and that tendency in the audio toward clamor makes the proceedings feel harried and brusque. While there's much to appreciate here, in these ways the direction of Vincent Kok and Stephen Chow strikes me as a tad uncareful, and I think the humor would have benefited from a more nuanced, thoughtful hand.
In fairness, however, all these matters are rather superficial. In many other ways there's much to love about this picture, and at its core it's splendidly entertaining. The filming locations are beautiful, and the production design and art direction maybe even more so with their rich detail. Tremendous care went into the costume design, hair and makeup, and props and weapons, let alone stunts, fight choreography, dance choreography, and practical effects, and even the minimal post-production visuals. The camerawork and editing could maybe be a bit cleaner when it comes to visualizing the action sequences, but mostly Lee Kin-keung and Kwong Chi-leung demonstrate deft skill to help shape the feature. Even at their most overcooked I can't fault the cast for spirited acting, and in some instances the performances are genuinely great; more than not, when it comes to the fundamental orchestration of shots and scenes - especially the more shrewd or complicated ones - Kok and Chow's direction is pretty darn smart. Case in point, where the humor does rely on a more delicate touch (e.g., concurrent scenes of violence and frivolity), the comedic timing is kind of brilliant, and 'Forbidden City cop' definitely earns some laughs along the way.
The action is a blast, the best of the comedy is a joy, it's terrifically well made in general and easy on the eyes (further include superb use of lighting), and at its best the direction is wonderfully sharp. Very importantly, all this necessarily stems from the screenplay of Kok,Chow, and Edmund Liu. We might say reasonably enough that the quality varies some in the writing just as in the execution, particularly where the comedy is concerned. It does also seem to me that, strictly speaking, narrative cohesion breaks down some over time, and the movie becomes more about the action, the comedy, and broad vibes of a plot more than a discrete tale. Be that as it may, the story is duly engaging and compelling, and the scene writing is fabulously strong. Some details are stupendously clever (fantastical capabilities of antagonists, a centerpiece fight involving the protagonist's inventions) even as they may be paired with more overdone aspects. And through it all, what we end up with is a film that stirs together kung fu, period drama, action, various strains of comedy, and fantasy into a weird, vibrant, highly enjoyable whole.
It remains true that 'Forbidden City cop' has its faults. Some tidbits (mostly the more outlandish and/or sexual ones) completely fail to land, nevermind scattered tinges of sexism, fatphobia, and transphobia. Even at only ninety minutes I wonder if this isn't a smidgen longer than it should be, as the major sequence near the end of the second act feels like a proper climax. There are plenty of swell ideas here, but not all of them are treated well; even as it boasts some excellent humor and writing, the third act comes off to some degree like something taken from a totally different screenplay and rewritten to adjoin the first two-thirds. Still, this was made with no loftier intent than to have fun, and no matter how much we may scrutinize, it ably achieves that goal. I sat to watch with no real foreknowledge or expectations, and though not every facet meets with equal success, I'm pleasantly surprised by how much of a good time it turned out to be. Unless one has a special impetus to watch there's no need to go out of your way for this, but I'm very pleased with how entertaining 'Forbidden Citiy cop' is overall, and I'm glad to give it my solid recommendation!
Woman of the Hour (2023)
Superb writing and direction make this serial killer film something noteworthy
I mean no disrespect to anyone when I say that the chief question I had about this, sights unseen, was how the plot could possibly be drawn out into a full-length feature. The world is full of movies about serial killers, and at the same time that the biggest story in this instance is Rodney Alcala's notorious appearance on 'The dating game' - a single episode of half-hour television - the primary star is Anna Kendrick, playing the woman whose claim to fame is appearing opposite him in 1978. The venture seems especially risky since Kendrick is trusted as an actor, but this marks her directorial debut. Between scribe Ian McDonald, with his desired script, and Kendrick herself, how would 'Woman of the hour' find success?
The answer lies partly in dramatization. I'm not familiar enough with the details of the case, and all those involved, to know precisely what the script and the execution toys with and changes, but it's readily evident that the material was pointedly treated as inspiration rather than as something to be perfectly mimicked. McDonald takes the known figures and facts and weaves around them a saga that bears strains of familiarity for moviegoers, with focus on Sheryl, Rodney, Rodney's victims, and still others in a narrative that's a little less than strictly linear. If not for the central conceit here, marking the unique circumstances by which Sheryl and Rodney meet, and perhaps if not for the star power attached, the picture might not be so easily distinguished from others of a similar nature - that is to say, crime dramas and thrillers. Yet I find the writing to be splendidly smart, with strong scene writing and characterizations, and sharp dialogue, fueling a narrative that's earnestly compelling and engrossing. I can see why the screenplay was so popular before it got picked up.
And the term "thriller" is indeed an apt descriptor, for if nothing else is true here, those involved deserve credit for shaping the feature with meaningful tension as the tale unfolds. With McDonald's script as firm foundation, we get a flick that's more dynamic than it may seem at first blush, providing tinges of humor amidst the darkness while setting the stage for the most harrowing scenes and staying centered with a clear intention. Make no mistake, 'Woman of the hour' is definitely a success, and if the dramatization by McDonald is half the answer, the other half lies in Kendrick's admirable direction. Later scenes that she shares with co-star Daniel Zovatto are genuinely chilling, there is a fierce power thrumming under the surface in the scenes between Autumn Best and Zovatto, and as the overarching unifying factors come into clarity, still other scenes, including Nicolette Robinson's, become even more absorbing, and frankly outright haunting.
Accentuated by text on-screen that serves as a coda, and further in Kendrick accordingly donating her pay to nonprofits, the name couldn't be more appropriate. It's Alcala and his infamy that the world knows best, and McDonald's script could have been realized with still more emphasis on the killer, but Kendrick's film is about the women. It's about Sheryl: portrayed as smarter than the bachelors by miles, struggling in a city and industry dominated by predatory men, and warily keeping at bay a man who seems too eager to please. It's about Laura: knowing fully well who Rodney is, and being failed by the institutions who should theoretically be guarding against the monsters. It's about Amy: a nobody struggling to get by on a daily basis, who in a grotesque twist of fate survives by placating the person who victimizes her, and in so doing also brings about his downfall. And it's about all women, for from the very top to the very bottom Kendrick leans into spotlighting the casual abuse and harassment that women suffer, let alone the hard violence; the refusal of authorities of any nature to believe women, and the ease with which they dismiss us, no matter how right we are; and the sickening, desperate methods women have to employ to get by, and to escape danger, not least when so many men seem primed to target us, for even those men here who at some point illustrate some humanity, and deserving sympathy, are at other points shown to be bozos. 'Woman of the hour' at once puts the power in the hands of its female characters, and demonstrates how the failure of a patriarchal society to recognize and respect women means that too often that power amounts to too little, too late.
Kendrick has been around long enough in the industry to know her stuff, and if this is any indication, there's no questioning that she does. She's a woman of great skill and intelligence, and I very much look forward to whatever project she may take on next - as an actor, or hopefully also as a director. Likewise, for as terrific as McDonald's treatment is, we can only hope that he gets more screenplays produced. And in all other ways this title is appreciably well made by all the standards we suppose of modern cinema: keen cinematography, and editing; fetching production design and art direction; lovely costume design, hair, and makeup; and so on. This is hardly to discount the acting, for Kendrick, Zovatto, Robinson, Best, Tony Hale, and all others give super performances of range and nuance that bring the story to vivid life. There's no mistaking, however, that the key strengths of this endeavor are its writing and direction above all else, and I could scarcely be more pleased with how solid the end result is.
Given the ugliness of the subject matter and the violence that is depicted, suggested, or described, I can't begrudge those who approach the picture more cautiously. Yet I sat with mixed to high expectations, and I'm so happy with how shrewd, careful, and thoughtful the end result really is. I'd stop short of saying it demands viewership, but whether one has a special impetus to watch or is just looking for something worthwhile, I'm glad to give 'Woman of the hour' my hearty recommendation.
The Land Before Time XIV: Journey of the Brave (2016)
Gratifyingly strong and balanced among sequels of varying quality
Since its inception with Don Bluth's original film of 1988, the 'Land before time' series has had its ups and downs. The original is a minor classic, and while a few of the direct-to-video sequels were surprisingly good, many dwelt or even struggled in the territory of "so-so" and "softly enjoyable." This fourteenth installment had a lot theoretically working against it, including a gap of nine years since the last feature, a brand new director and writing team, and following on three immediate predecessors that were of the lesser variety. On the other hand, among other returning characters, the story again involves an important figure in Littlefoot's life, as was also true with the unexpectedly, genuinely great tenth entry, 'The great longneck migration.' It was safe to assume that one way or another 'Journey of the brave' would be fit in well with its brethren, so the question is of exactly how firm the material would be for a kids' franchise that's nearly thirty years old. In a move that should shock no one, for better and for worse it's pretty much right on par. At that, it's mostly for the better.
The main thing that the video sequels have had going against them is that the earnest, substantive writing of the progenitor has generally been declined in favor of more simple and unsophisticated entertainment, catering to young viewers instead of appealing to broad audiences, and accentuated in the addition of songs to each picture. That's not to say that there aren't good ideas and meaningful themes on hand to anchor each effort, but the strength of that underlying value has been variable. Further troubling some examples have been excessively cutesy and childish voice performances, and visuals that arguably trade nuance for vibrant color, with some unnatural movement observed with the switch in 2000 to a digital art style. Thankfully, the voice acting grew to be more organic and steady over time, allowing regulars like Anndi McAfee, icons like Jeff Bennett and Rob Paulsen, and guest stars like Reba McEntire and Damon Wayans Jr. To demonstrate their actual skills. Similarly, scrutinize the songs as we may, not all are so gauche, and some are quite good.
The animation, meanwhile, is an aspect for which any critiques feel more like nitpicking instead of major flaws. By and large we're treated to rich, luscious detail in the backgrounds and environments, and to nearly the same degree in character designs, effects, and other active elements. And though new scribes Cliff Ruby and Elana Lesser faced definite challenges in devising a new screenplay for a new 'Land before time,' happily, I think they rose to the occasion. It's hardly that this movie is a must-see, and it doesn't reach the same heights as a few of its antecedents did. But Ruby and Lesser did a fairly good job of balancing dramatic moments, action scenes, and light humor while focusing more squarely on the adventure of the saga. As Littlefoot and his friends set out in search of someone important - and other family and friends follow in their footsteps - we're treated to welcome slivers of earnestness and kernels of comedy, and even at its most ham-handed I recognize the intelligence, care, and heart that went into this flick. The scene writing is strong, the story is suitably compelling, and the characterizations are perhaps slightly more robust than they have been in other instances. I'm pleased at how good this actually is.
Some tidbits are less sure-footed, yes, but there are plenty of small moments that are delightful, clever highlights, including even a passing line in the first minutes, second song "Hot and stinky," and other odds and ends ranging from character bits, to specific scenes or story ideas, to facets of the visuals, and even the editing. As has consistently been the case throughout the franchise we get tiny life lessons in addition to the dominant flavors; songs aside, Michael Tavera's score has been a nice, reliable complement since 1994's first sequel, and this is another gratifying example. Really, when you get down to it, I don't think one can seriously go wrong here. 'Journey of the brave' does not demand viewership, and it remains true that it falls on the gentler, more passive, and more uncomplicated side of family-friendly fare. When stood next to even other TLBT titles, however, let alone other projects in the wider world of children's cinema, I believe this holds up reasonably well on its own merits. Don't go out of your way for this fourteenth and as of yet last installment in the series, but if you do have the opportunity to watch, it's modestly entertaining and more worthwhile than I initially supposed, and sometimes that's just what we want and need.
The Land Before Time XIII: The Wisdom of Friends (2007)
Simple entertainment over earnest substance makes for only mild amusement
Here we go again. The original film is a minor classic; the direct-to-video sequels have a few definite high points, but mostly exist in the territory of "so-so" and "softly enjoyable." Nearly twenty years into the 'Land before time' franchise, it's only reasonable to approach the thirteenth installment with very mixed expectations. Special guest stars Sandra Oh and Cuba Gooding Jr. Lend some extra star power while regular cast members remain, including industry icons Jeff Bennett and Rob Paulsen; producer Charles Grosvenor declines directorial duties for the first time since he first took the helm in 1997, making way for Jamie Mitchell. Everything and everyone else seems to have remained consistent, so it's safe to assume 'The wisdom of friends' will be just as consistent, for better and for worse. And so it is.
The animation is overall excellent, including welcome detail in the beautiful backgrounds, and not truly any less so in character designs, effects, and other active elements; on the other hand, some nuance has arguably been traded out for more vibrant colors (seen as far back as 2000), some tidbits that we get (e.g., characters dancing) feel gauche and indulgent, and some movement (by character or camera) doesn't translate well with 3D sensibilities. Speaking of gauche, the original songs are decidedly ham-handed, but they're not bad in and themselves, and may even be kind of catchy. The cast give spirited, commendable performances, and the one trouble may be that the performances they're guided into are sometimes excessively cutesy and childish. In general Mitchell's direction is suitable, though I think the pacing may be a bit harried and forced, and the same descriptors arguably describe some other facets every now and again (see also the song "How do you know?").
The biggest problem this picture faces is one that the franchise has struggled with in varying measures from the first sequel, 'The Great Valley adventure,' in 1994. With exceptions - irregular doses of especial cleverness, or earnestness - the video franchise has been characterized by simple, unsophisticated writing, a presentation that favors frivolous entertainment over sincere, meaningful substance. I think it's rather unfortunate that 'The wisdom of friends' leans into that slant more than ever, with only traces of hardier themes or ideas to faintly cement the proceedings. To a dubious extent greater than that of any predecessor, this flick caters somewhat condescendingly to the very, very youngest of viewers with uninvolved silliness rather than to appeal to broader audiences with anything more concrete and thoughtful. If other entries verged on being "Saturday morning cartoons" more than full-length features, this more closely reflects the trivial nothings aired on TV in the middle of the day for tykes who may be too young for even kindergarten.
We still get some mild humor, and some mild adventure, as foremost diminutive dinos Littlefoot, Cera, Petrie, Ducky, and Spike find themselves getting into more shenanigans. There are small, scattered highlights throughout in one fashion or another. The movie isn't specifically bad, and it is duly well made in and of itself. Yet whether we're standing it next to its kin or trying to judge it purely on its own merits, much more than not - despite the name and its de facto fulfillment - this is a fluff piece. There's not necessarily anything wrong with that, for there's a time and a place for most anything in cinema, but it's as if this time around Grosvenor, Mitchell, and Loy had actively forsaken any but the tiniest, almost undetectable slivers of heart that have been the crux of the series since Don Bluth's progenitor. We can get fluff pieces anywhere; however much or little, that heart has been a key component of the continuation of 'The land before time.' If it's so heavily diminished, or absent, why should we bother at all?
I don't dislike this title, and there are much worse ways to spend one's time. There are also better ways to spend one's time, however, for this sits at the rear of the pack alongside 2001's 'The big freeze,' wherein sturdy notions were rendered in a manner too even-keeled and dull, and 2002's 'Journey to Big Water,' which was solid but unremarkable and sort of stale. It's passable and decent enough as something light to watch on a quiet day, and the issue is just that if that's our bar for having a good time, we can likely just do without altogether. Take that as you will, and if you watch 'The wisdom of friends' at all, watch knowing what you're getting into.
The Land Before Time XII: The Great Day of the Flyers (2006)
Safe and mild, but with just enough heart and cleverness to be gently amusing
Oh, 'The land before time.' The original film is a minor modern classic; the subsequent direct-to-video sequels vary in quality, and with exceptions mostly hover in the territory of "so-so" and "softly enjoyable." Filmmaker Charles Grosvenor and writer John Loy were behind the genuinely great tenth film, 'The great longneck migration,' but also the eleventh sequel, 'Invasion of the tinysauruses,' that was pretty much right on par with the bulk of the predecessors. How might still another sequel stack up as the creative duo return with much the same cast? 2006 saw the premiere of twelfth movie 'The Great Day of the Flyers,' and - quell surprise - for better and for worse, it fits right in with most of its brethren. It is in fact a good time to one degree or another, and it's just that as something built for light, unsophisticated fun more than earnest substance, the lasting value is quite modest.
The writing is fairly simple and straightforward, catering to the very youngest of viewers rather than appealing to broader general audiences, but there are still meaningful themes and ideas to anchor the proceedings. In this case that includes feelings of loneliness, inadequacy, and/or being overlooked amidst siblings, and more, as Cera anticipates the hatching of an egg, Petrie prepares for a coming-of-age ritual, and our spotlighted diminutive dinos meet a young newcomer who looks like nothing they've ever seen. Among it all we get the usual mild drama, humor, and adventure that are customary for the franchise. The original songs are gauche, but well done in and of themselves and not outright bad, and every now and again we get one that's kind of catchy ("One of a kind"), or particularly heartfelt ("Things change"). Earlier in the series the voice cast was guided into extra cutesy, childish performances, but a few entries ago that tenor was smartly discarded in favor of more sincere, natural acting, so the regular cast like icons Jeff Bennett and Rob Paulsen can flourish in their own right.
And there's not much faulting the visual experience. We might nitpick; for my part, especially once hand-drawn art was superseded by digital art in 'The stone of cold fire,' I think some nuance was traded out for more vibrant color, and some movement occasionally comes off as inorganic, not least with 3D considerations. Even at that, though, the animation is flush with terrific detail in the beautiful backgrounds, and hardly any less so in the character designs, effects, and other active elements. Further benefiting once again from the reliable score of Michael Tavera, the picture looks and sounds good overall, and some odds and ends are notable nice touches, be it a line, a gag, a fragment of the visuals, or something else. Unless one is inclined to harp on the pointed juvenility of the construction (seen above all during climactic sequence "Flip, flap, and fly"), I don't know that there's even any major issue to highlight except perhaps that the doing here seems extra safe and "middle of the road," to the point that "entertainment" feels like too strong a word and "amusement" may be more appropriate.
No matter how critical we deign to be, however, there is some small delight to be had, and some small measure of heart, and perhaps that's all the feature needed to be. Being so middling, there's hardly any need to go out of your way for this, but if you have the opportunity to watch and are receptive to fare of a decidedly less involved nature, there are far worse ways to spend one's time. 'The Great Day of the Flyers' is nothing special, and well before the final stretch it becomes something we can "watch" without actively engaging - but twelve installments into 'The land before time,' "nothing special" might be just fine.
The Land Before Time XI: Invasion of the Tinysauruses (2005)
Tonal issues trouble a sequel that's otherwise par for the course (for better and worse)
Over many direct-to-video sequels, the earnest substance of Don Bluth's original 'The land before time' quickly gave way to simple and unsophisticated entertainment. There's nothing inherently wrong with that, even though it means catering (condescendingly) to the very youngest of viewers rather than appealing to broad audiences, but the quality of the films has, with exceptions, largely been so-so and mild. Then again, one of those exceptions was 2003's tenth installment, 'The great longneck migration, which was smart, imaginative, and fun, and easily the best since the progenitor. With Universal Cartoon Studios inevitably producing another sequel, it remains the case that expectations would be reasonably mixed; at the same time, as filmmaker Charles Grosvenor and writer John Loy return alongside much the same cast from the success of the immediate predecessor, one might well get their hopes up for 2005's eleventh installment. At length, there's no mistaking that 'Invasion of the tinysauruses' falls short of the franchise's high points, but the worst that can be said is that it's pretty much on par with most of its forebears.
Curiously, the primary trouble to catch my attention here is one of tonal disparity. By and large this flick fits right in with its brethren, certainly - maintaining a light and playful tone; blending notes of adventure and drama with humor; and ultimately serving up some life lessons before all is said and done, including telling the truth and taking responsibility, and disagreements between friends and family. Yet long before those life lessons specifically come into focus, there is a withering darkness visible just under the surface that Grosvenor and Loy try to cloak in the lighthearted tenor. Just listen to the first song "Creepy crawlies," and note the thoughts brought out in the surrounding scenes and dialogue: a core narrative thrust is the intent of the herds of the Great Valley to carry out a pogrom against the tinysauruses, using words like "hunt" and "exterminate." The goose-stepping hyenas in 'The lion king' were on the nose, but the accompanying tone was appropriately harrowing; how is it that, more than ten years later, Grosvenor and Loy thought that sugarcoating the material with jovial merriment was the right course of action? For that matter, is that central thrust not unwisely going far darker than has been the norm for TLBT in the first place?
Granted, it's not as if the whole picture is tightly zeroed in on villagers raising torches and pitchforks in a mob. There is meaningful humor, and more than that, there ARE important themes on hand regarding unjust persecution of a marginalized community, scapegoating, oppressive authorities rewarding ordinary people for betraying the most vulnerable among them, and lies being used to prop up dangerous policies. Not least in 2024, these ideas are entirely too real and relevant, and so is the vitality, innocence, and value of the community in question. I further question the strong secondary story thread of Cera having daddy issues, but it is suitably woven into the proceedings - and anyway, it's possible I'm too being too cynical and jaded. More than not the feature is kith and kin with its antecedents, for better and for worse: uncomplicated writing, but also sincere themes and concepts; somewhat ham-handed songs, but songs that are a little catchy and well done in and of themselves, and a splendid score; and admirable voice acting from a reliable cast, including regulars, industry icons, and guest stars Camryn Manheim and Michael Clarke Duncan. I won't even nitpick the animation this time, and the visual experience is great, including beautiful and detailed backgrounds, character designs, action sequences, and other active elements.
And we do get a suitably compelling story. We get firm scene writing, and characterizations, and a capable blend of that trifecta of adventure, drama, and humor. Loy's writing is swell overall, and so is Grosvenor's direction. I do in fact like 'Invasion of the tinysauruses'; it's solid, with significant notions at play. It's just that it doesn't fully stand out in any way as some of the previous entries managed to do - and when we take into account the severe gulf between the seriousness of the underlying ideas, and the familiar, light-footed vibe the movie otherwise adopts, something critical feels very off. I don't necessarily think that it would have taken much to rework the screenplay into a more cohesive form, either, as the dialogue, characterizations, and scene writing could have been softened without diminishing the weight of the tale and its core themes. Such refinement is a small ask for a readily discernible fault.
One way or another, like most of the 'Land before time' sequels, there's no need to go out of your way for this, and here especially it behooves one to be aware of how it struggles. Despite it all, however, if you do have the chance to watch, there are far worse ways to spend your time, and maybe after all 'Invasion of the tinysauruses' is all that it needed to be.
The Land Before Time X: The Great Longneck Migration (2003)
Smart, earnest, and fun - easily the best in the series since the original
Minor modern classic that Don Bluth's original movie is, all its direct-to-video sequels are more variable in quality, and lesser to one degree or another. In the last couple years before this the series was more troubled than ever, as 'The big freeze' had firm foundations but was too even-keeled and dull, and 'Journey to Big Water' felt solid but was unremarkable if not altogether stale. Heading into 2003 and the tenth installment, it's only reasonable to sit for the latest 'Land before time' with mixed expectations, and the feature would have to do something pretty special to break out of the rut. Notably, this is the longest entry yet (by ten minutes) at eighty-five minutes, and aside from voice-acting veterans and regular cast members like Rob Paulsen and Jeff Bennett, the title also claims major star power in guest stars James Garner and Kiefer Sutherland. Filmmaker Charles Grosvenor must have been feeling confident about 'The great longneck migration' - and I'm very happy to say that I think Grosvenor was right to feel good about this one's prospects, for in all honesty it's distinctly sharper than nearly all its predecessors.
Granted, there's no mistaking that these films are made for not just young audiences, but far and away for the youngest of audiences. To whatever extent we may say the 1988 progenitor had some straightforward or heavy-handed moments, the video sequels have rather decidedly leaned into the simple and unsophisticated, not appealing to all viewers but catering (perhaps condescendingly) to the tiniest tykes. We've seen this in all aspects of the writing, often in the voice acting, in facets of the animation, and definitely in the original songs, as some measure of complexity and nuance is pointedly refused. This in and of itself doesn't entirely preclude the possibility of a quality presentation, even if we're used to more substantive kids' movies in subsequent years, and anyway, the tenor is so well established for TLBT that there's no getting around it. Still, anyone who can't get on board with that tack is perhaps advised to just stay away in the first place, for the sequels deviate from it little.
No matter how much we may scrutinize the pictures, however, there is lasting value of some sort. They may boast earnest storytelling and themes, or they may be particularly silly or clever, but even at their weakest, one way or another they're at least mildly enjoyable. In this case, I think Grosvenor and writer John Loy have done an especially fine job of balancing the airs of adventure, drama, and humor in a plot that shifts a bit from the formula of the sequels: Littlefoot and his longneck kin feel the urge to migrate for the first time from the Great Valley, and as Cera, Ducky, Petrie, and Spike embark on a journey of their own to follow, Littlefoot has some big surprises in store for him when the longnecks reach their destination. The touches of comedy feel a little more natural and light on their feet, the drama and overarching themes are more impactful, and the notes of adventure a smidgen more exciting. This might actually be the strongest narrative the franchise has claimed since the original, and likewise the characterizations, nevermind the scene writing that has been a consistent high point, including unexpectedly smart longneck mythology. This is the most I've cared about these characters for too many years, and that's owed just as well to Grosvenor's tight direction.
Yes, after Universal Cartoon Studios switched from hand-drawn animation to digital with 2000's 'The stone of cold fire,' the visuals are prone at times to inorganic color, shading, and even movement. Yes, the songs remain gauche and variable in quality. Yes, the writing still has moments that are tiresomely unsubtle and uncomplicated. Yet the extra cutesy and childish performances into which the voice cast have been guided in the past are, well, a thing of the past, and the voice work is more sincere. It can't be overstated how fabulously sturdy the writing is overall, evoking reactions that the series hasn't in fifteen years. The centerpiece song of the third act here, "Bestest friends," strikes a welcome chord of emotional catharsis, leading into an equally robust denouement and ending, and a reprise over the end credits sung by Olivia Newton-John. And though we may nitpick odds and ends in the animation, by and large the visual experience is superb, with marvelous detail in the beautiful backgrounds, in effects, in character designs, and in other active elements. While some tidbits may be marginally lesser, I'm so very pleased with how very, very good 'The great longneck migration' is. How many flicks, deep in a series, can say the same?
Every rule has its exceptions, and if the rule of the 'Land before time' sequels is quality that's mostly consistent but so-so, 'The land before time X' is the exception. This is, to my astonishment, genuinely excellent, with wit, imagination, heartfelt storytelling, and even subtlety that has been all too routinely lacking in most of the antecedents. Even at that I can understand that it won't find equal favor with all comers, but not since Bluth's original have I felt so sure that I could give one of these movies a high recommendation. Well, here we are, with a recommendation that's high, hearty, and enthusiastic. I'm delighted by how much intelligence, care, and hard work went into this tenth installment, to the point that even if one has avoided the sequels heretofore, I believe this one is well worth watching nonetheless. Against all odds 'The great longneck migration' is a shining high point for a franchise of such a history, and it's well worth checking out if you have the opportunity.
The Land Before Time IX: Journey to Big Water (2002)
Mildly enjoyable, with highlights - but unremarkable, and kind of stale
Don Bluth's original film of 1988 is a minor modern classic, no matter how we might scrutinize it. All the direct-to-video sequels are another matter, however: though none are specifically bad, the quality is somewhat variable yet often middling, and 2001's 'The Big Freeze' was too dully even-keeled for even its best ideas to land. As 'The land before time' grew to nine installments in 2002, there's no reason to anticipate that the new iteration would be any different. And sure enough, for better and for worse, it's not. 'Journey to Big Water' is once again modestly enjoyable, but unless one has a special reason to watch, there's no need go to out of your way for it.
Rest assured there is much to appreciate. One might nitpick some facets of the animation (shading, character designs, or the relative sterility and unnatural look that follows from burgeoning digital methods), but by and large the visual experience is solid, of course including beautiful, detailed backgrounds, and active elements largely rendered with just as much care. The voice cast may not make a major impression, but they are reliable, including icons like Jeff Bennett and Rob Paulsen; much the same could be said of composer Michael Tavera and his score. By this point in the series the original songs still aren't great, but they're not as entirely gauche, and some are notably better than others. And the writing, and the feature at large, are fairly simple and unsophisticated - this is built for light entertainment, geared for a very young audience, much more than earnest substance that can appeal to all - but there is worth here all the same. The story and scene writing can claim strong notions, and the dialogue and characterizations have settled into a consistency that's steady, and arguably sturdier than before.
In most every regard there are some odds and ends that are decidedly brighter than others, whether in the scene writing, in a passing joke or gag, in the animation, in underlying themes, in the voice acting or singing, or otherwise. Nevertheless, it's hard to summon especial enthusiasm for this flick. Maybe it's just me, or maybe it comes from watching the 'Land before time' franchise back to back to back - or maybe it really is the case that filmmaker Charles Grosvenor, and all others who participated in these creations, had grown so comfortable with the space they play in that the doing was altogether growing stale. The adventure is mild, the drama is mild, the humor is mild, and it increasingly seems as if the visuals, the voice acting, the music, and the sum total of it all is also pointedly mild. True, that is perhaps all it needs to be with its goal of soft, fleeting fun. Yet if a movie is going to leave so little of a mark, even in those moments that are ostensibly the most "urgent," might we not be disinclined from watching in the first place?
There is value here. There are no major, emphatic faults. 'The land before time IX' is a duly good time, and some tidbits are splendid. The problem is that there's nothing here that particularly stands out, and that would help the whole to stand the test of time in a meaningful fashion. As it exists we can "watch" without actively engaging, for the picture neither requires nor inspires us to do so, not even as our beloved diminutive dinos make the lengthy titular trek. There's nothing wrong with watching, and may you get more out of it than I do; part of me wants to like it more than I do. Just know that 'Journey to Big Water' is just about as safe and undistinguished as this series can get (I hope), and to whatever extent we may like it, there are also more deserving ways to spend our time.
The Land Before Time VIII: The Big Freeze (2001)
Appreciable ideas, admirable themes - too soft, even-keeled, and dull in execution
The 'Land before time' series has its high points. Of course the 1988 progenitor is the best, with its earnestness and substance, but 1995's 'The time of Great Giving' again reached for meaningful themes and ideas, and 1998's 'The secret of Saurus Rock,' going the other way and leaning into its silliness, was genuinely clever and fun. Otherwise - well, it's not that the other direct-to-video sequels are bad, because they're not. They are consistent, however, and they are consistently somewhat so-so: enjoyable, but modestly so, with shortcomings as evident as their strengths, and writing and execution that are rather simplified and unsophisticated. These issues have been routinely reflected in the dialogue, characterizations, scene writing, plot, voice acting, songs, and to some degree even in the animation. Sitting for the eighth entry in the franchise, there was no reason to think that 'The Big Freeze' would be any different. Indeed, for better and for worse, this is part and parcel with its brethren, and its lasting value is a little soft.
The saga of Littlefoot and his friends continues, with mild humor adjoining mild adventure and mild drama, and life lessons will be imparted along the way. I think the animators refined their digital methods a bit following 'The stone of cold fire' as it shifted away from traditional hand-drawn art, and there's perhaps some more nuance in the visuals - including, unfailingly, beautiful, detailed backgrounds, and character designs and other active elements that more than not are pretty swell. Reliable as the voice cast has been in and of themselves, their performances are maybe more grounded, and not quite as wholly juvenile as those heard in prior sequels. Even as they're regularly ham-handed the songs are variable in their quality, with some a touch sharper than others. There's not much to say about John Loy's screenplay that hasn't been said previously, but suffice to say that the picture more closely recalls a Saturday morning cartoon, or at most a cartoon that might air in the afternoon as elementary schools let out, more than a full-length theatrical presentation.
What I will say is that 'The Big Freeze' boasts more admirable sincerity than most of its predecessors with the thoughts that it broaches, hitting upon some important notions for the intended audience of a tender age (and, let's face it, for too many so-called adults, too). Then, too, some of the humor is a tad more amusing than elsewhere. I honestly do like this, and it's fairly well-rounded. I think the key trouble this flick faces is that from top to bottom it lands all too gently, lacking the vitality to make a mark even at its best, or at the most tense moments. Through moods both happy, sad, and ostensibly urgent it's too even-keeled, and while as a result it's not as gauche as other examples, its strengths are also made to feel more shallow in the process. In the way that is true of other fare that is so light and passively appreciable, the sum total is still worth watching in one measure or another. Even among other 'Land before time' films, however, this is kind of middling, so unless you have a special impetus to watch, this is something to check out only on a passing whim.
There was a lot of potential and real care poured into the writing, but in this case Charles Grosvenor's direction molds the movie into a form that's sadly unexciting and dull. It's still decent enough to merit a view if you happen to come across it, but definitely don't go out of your way for 'The Big Freeze,' and temper your expectations.
The Land Before Time VII: The Stone of Cold Fire (2000)
It needed a more deliberate, measured hand, but it's decent enough
I'm certainly not going to sit here and extol their virtues, but I don't think anyone can say the 'Land before time' sequels are specifically bad. They are light and frivolous compared to Don Bluth's 1988 progenitor, yes, largely lacking the earnestness, substance, and nuance that have made it a minor modern classic. Even as the shortcomings are evident, however, and the writing relatively simple and unsophisticated, the direct-to-video offerings are only intended for mild entertainment in the first place. We may scrutinize, and we may wish that they were built to appeal to a broader audience instead of catering (perhaps condescendingly) to the very youngest of viewers, but they're modestly enjoyable in the least, and some (including sixth entry 'The secret of Saurus Rock') are notably better than others. So we sit with mixed expectations for seventh installment 'The stone of cold fire,' but there's still a possibility that it could stand firm on its own legs, and if nothing else it will surely fit in among its brethren. And, well, the latter holds true.
Here, there is a great deal to take in right from the start. With a new studio accordingly taking over much of the animation, and especially with digital methods now employed instead of the traditional hand-drawn animation previously seen, this release takes some getting used to. It's still the case that the colors are vibrant, and we get rich detail in active elements and even more so in the beautiful backgrounds, though I do wonder if there's even less nuance here than in the other sequels (let alone compared to the original TLBT), all accentuated as we see characters animated against static backgrounds. Then, too, for as straightforward and uncomplicated as the storytelling has commonly been in this series (at least since the first), it comes across that new screenwriter Len Uhley tries to smash too many ideas together here, and this picture is arguably both overfull and full of itself. Introducing the scientifically-minded gallimimuses ("Rainbow Faces") is one thing, but the accompanying song ("Beyond the Mysterious Beyond") seems to go a step too far. That's to say nothing of adding Petrie's dubious uncle and his friends on top of the curiosity of the titular object, and all of the conflicts, beats, character reactions, and story ideas to follow.
True, the voice cast is reliable, including industry icons Jeff Bennett, Rob Paulsen, and Jim Cummings, nevermind special guest star Michael York, and one could argue that the performances into which they're guided are more sure-footed this time around - that is, not entirely as unnaturally cutesy and childish as we've heard in the last five examples. Michael Tavera's score arguably stands out more, being more robust in and of itself and also benefiting from a hardier sound design. Regardless of how exactly they're treated, there are concrete notions herein for the narrative, and in fact there are touches of subtlety that have been sorely missing from the franchise for awhile. For example, Pterano and his pals are up to no good, and while that wickedness is as plain as day, the antagonists' methods are a little sly and underhanded. We get adventure, and drama, and some humor to round things out, and there are even darker slivers of violence than we've gotten since 1988. I quite believe 'The stone of cold fire' needed a more measured, deliberate hand, not just in conception but in its execution (including pacing), but overall the result is fairly solid.
It's just that the doing is A Bit Much. And where 'The Great Valley adventure' or 'Journey through the mists' were A Bit Much owing to their distinct juvenility; this particularly is A Bit Much because while the underlying thoughts in this instance are reasonably sturdy, the sum total feels excessive, brusque, and maybe even a tad forced. Moreover, while there is notable strength in some regards, and some cleverness (once again, the antagonists benefit from some of the best writing), this feature is not completely free of the issues that have troubled its video predecessors, including songs of variable quality. So here we are again, with a 'Land before time' sequel that IS a good time, but softly so, and somewhat passively. I can honestly say that I like 'The stone of cold fire,' but I'm unlikely to dwell on it for even a moment hereafter, and there's no need whatsoever to make a special effort to watch. Provided that something of such a temperate tenor is something you can get on board with, it's duly worthwhile if you come across it; would that the movie elicited a more enthusiastic response.
The Land Before Time VI: The Secret of Saurus Rock (1998)
Unexpectedly clever and fun, a refreshing change of pace for direct-to-video sequels
Quality is important, but don't underestimate the importance of consistency. Don Bluth's original film of 1988 is a minor modern classic, anchored by earnest and substantive storytelling, and while the direct-to-video sequels can't be said to nearly match that excellence, it's not as if they're bad. Indeed, the second, third, fourth, and fifth 'Land before time' features remain lightly enjoyable, and with each being very much cut from the same cloth, everyone involved clearly knew what they were making. Some nuance may be lost from the animation, the original songs may be ham-handed, the voice actors may be directed into extra cutesy and childish performances, and above all, the writing may be simple-minded and unsophisticated - but the results have not been totally unworthy. Mild adventure, mild drama, and mild humor are rendered with just enough care, with just enough strength and intermittent cleverness, to provide modest entertainment. One might wish that the flicks were designed to appeal to a broader audience, like the progenitor, rather than to cater to the very, very youngest of viewers, but several years and sequels in, there's no mistaking what these are. Would 1998's 'Secret of Saurus Rock,' the sixth entry overall, be any different?
No. No, it would not. And that's fine! These days we're accustomed to children's fare that actively refuses to decline the complexity and maturity of pictures for older audiences, and that's the sort of thoughtfulness that, for example, made Pixar the cream of the crop for many years. But that's the new paradigm, and for many years the dominant notion was uncomplicated, straightforward fun for the little ones, with hope that older viewers could still appreciate the result on some level. So it has been for the TLBT sequels, and this one is kith and kin. Criticism is deserved for the shortcomings, but by and large it's all solidly made. The visuals boast vibrant color, and welcome detail in character designs, other active elements, and still more in the beautiful painted backgrounds. Some of those original songs are more catchy than others, and Michael Tavera's score is unremarkable but lovely. One can't fault the voice cast at large, including icon Jeff Bennett and, in this case, guest star Kris Kristofferson. And in one way or another, there are fair story ideas on hand as the saga continues of Littlefoot and friends, in this case leaning a bit more into genre tropes and grandiosity as a legendary, heroic Longneck wanders into the Great Valley.
Yet with that additional sliver of silliness informing the proceedings right from the top, something unexpected happens, and I wonder if 'The secret of Saurus Rock' doesn't stand a tiny bit taller than most of its predecessors. Of course Bluth's original is definitively superior, but I'd be inclined to place this, with its further helpings of blithe frivolity, side by side with second sequel 'The time of the Great Giving,' which again put a bit more sincere care into its storytelling and themes. Or is it better still? Even the presence of triceratops tykes Dinah and Dana doesn't dampen the merriment, which is unusual for titles where young kids are prominent. I recognize the scattered wit in Libby Hinson and John Loy's screenplay, and I think the writing might even be more firm and creative in this instance. Case in point, while there are just as many songs in this movie as in the previous sequels, they don't seem as upfront, and are arguably woven in a tad more naturally. There are more odds and ends that delight in these seventy-six minutes than we got in the second, fourth, and fifth entries combined. Is it possible - could it be - that this far into the franchise, producer and filmmaker Charles Grosvenor churned out something that's genuinely good?
With just the right discernible measure of that earnestness to help ground the film, a welcome variety of dinosaur species, and other small highlights all throughout, I'm kind of caught off guard by how sharp this ended up being. Why, as a peculiar bonus for a niche audience, it seems to me that composer Tavera not only recycles fragments of James Horner's music from the progenitor, but there are even a few select phrases that seem to recall Horner's score for cult classic 'Krull,' one of my personal favorites! To be sure, it's still part and parcel with its brethren, and I can't specifically begrudge anyone who adopts a harsher view; there remain aspects that are decidedly weaker. Nonetheless, I sat to watch fully and reasonably anticipating another so-so, passively amusing kids' feature, and I ended up enjoying TLBT6 a lot more than I supposed. I wouldn't go so far as to say one should go out of their way for it, but considering where the picture fits into the cinematic landscape, but if you do have the opportunity to watch, I'm inclined to believe 'The secret of Saurus Rock' is far more worthy than anyone is apt to give it credit for. For my part I had a fantastic time here, and I'm pleased to give it my hearty recommendation!
The Land Before Time V: The Mysterious Island (1997)
Duly, lightly enjoyable; par for the course for direct-to-video sequels
The least that can be said is that the direct-to-video sequels are consistent. While Don Bluth's original film of 1988 is a minor modern classic with welcome earnestness (however much we may scrutinize it), after Universal Cartoon Studios took over the property, each title in turn has been distinctly lesser. They're still modestly enjoyable, but the shortcomings are evident, and they're built for uncomplicated entertainment and flavor more than sincere storytelling and substance even as solid story ideas and themes may be broached. Notably, this fifth entry is marked by the most significant changes in personnel - in its cast, and even more in its crew - since the first sequel of 1994; would that have any impact on the outcome? It should come as little surprise that for better and for worse the answer is "no," and 'The mysterious island' fits right in with its kin. Scarcely any sooner than it begins one can recognize the same tenor, and how much one can get on board with it will depend on how much one can abide something that says "frivolous Saturday morning cartoon" more than "heartfelt full-length feature."
So we again see a movie that boasts many admirable qualities, but which has been reduced and simplified to a more unsophisticated rendition. There is splendid detail and vibrant color in the visuals, including active elements and even more so the painted backgrounds, but the visuals are also robbed of some nuance, and occasionally there's strange, unnatural and stilted movement. The voice cast is great in and of themselves, including icons like Jeff Bennett and Rob Paulsen, but they seem to have been guided into performances that are extra cutesy and childish. The original score doesn't specifically stand out yet is lovely nonetheless; at the same time, the original songs are unfailingly gauche, some being better and some being worse. And while there are indeed honest and meaningful notions in the screenplay, the dialogue, revised characterizations, scene writing, and overall narrative are decidedly more straightforward and uninvolved, catering directly to the very youngest of viewers and declining the complexity and thoughtfulness that would help the material to appeal to broader audiences and stand the test of time.
There's mild humor to go along with the mild adventure and mild drama, and we even see the return of a supporting character for the first time in a few years. Just as some tidbits are weaker, some are stronger, and even quite clever. The sum total is, in fact, light fun that's suitable for a quiet day. One just wishes that the continuing saga of Littlefoot, Cera, Ducky, Petrie, and Spike were treated more mindfully, with a smidgen more of the intelligence and refinement that would make for an honest, engaging viewing experience for viewers older than pre-schoolers. I like 'The mysterious island' well enough as it is, but I also won't think on it at all hereafter, and there's the rub.
The Land Before Time IV: Journey Through the Mists (1996)
Modestly enjoyable, remaining consistent among direct-to-video sequels
Scrutinize as we may, the original film of 1988 is a classic. The first sequel was still enjoyable but was a notable step down as the presentation was even more simplified, appealing directly to the very youngest of viewers; the second sequel of 1995 was much the same, but at least a small step back up as meaningful themes and ideas were broached. It's safe to say that my expectations for the fourth film overall, released in 1996, were mixed, but of course there's always the possibility that such a subsequent sequel may claim real value all its own. For better and for worse, it doesn't take long after it begins that we can discern 'Journey through the mists' to be very much in line with the past couple direct-to-video releases. If nothing else, with the same cast and crew involved once more - with only piecemeal changes in personnel, if any, from one to the next - we can trust in consistency.
It's hardly as if these later installments, bereft of original filmmaker Don Bluth, aren't any good there is lasting value here, however we might measure it. There's much to appreciate in the visuals, including vibrant color and rich detail in the painted backgrounds, and certainly in character designs, effects, and other active elements. Returning composer Michael Tavera provides a score which doesn't leave much of an impression in and of itself, but which is lovely nonetheless. Whatever we might say about the performances into which they were guided, the voice cast is reliably splendid, ably demonstrating their skills. And while not nearly with the same strength as in the progenitor, the flick boasts some good ideas to play with in the writing: the continued adventures of diminutive dinos Littlefoot, Cera, Ducky, Petrie, and Spike, and other friends, while learning much about life at the same time as the youngest audience members who would be watching.
Be that as it may, it's all too easy to find points to criticize in these TLBT sequels. The visuals are nice, but while the colors are sharper there's less nuance, and character movement is prone to awkward, unnatural stiltedness (e.g., heads bobbing). The voice actors cannot be faulted, including icons like Jeff Bennett and Rob Paulsen, yet they are guided into performances that lean into being extra cutesy, simplistic, and childish. Some original songs in these sequels are kind of catchy, but even the best of them are rather gauche, and the worst are altogether cringe-worthy (such as, in this case, "Grandma's lullaby"). Above all, the writing is reduced and unsophisticated, reflecting an apparent mind for basic aphorisms, forced science lessons, and flavorful, uncomplicated fun over earnestness, heartfelt storytelling, or especial substance. The ideas are there, yes, but rendered in a streamlined manner meant not for six- or nine-year olds, but for two- and three-year olds. This applies in varying degrees to the dialogue, scene writing, and revised characterizations, and to the narrative at large, and the result is quite plainly a lesser creation.
'The land before time IV' is still a good time. It's still worthwhile, and various tidbits are particularly well done, including much of the animation, some mild humor, and underlying story ideas. Even the song "Who needs you?" is a tiny delight, demonstrating again that antagonistic figures benefit from some of the most clever and creative writing in the sequels (see also "Eggs" in 'The Great Valley adventure'); similarly, appearing in a guest role as giant turtle Archie, Charles Durning enjoys some splendid writing. Ah, but would that the thought that went into this were more consistent. Would that the sequels were approached less like frivolous Saturday morning cartoons, and more like the sincere theatrical feature that the progenitor was. As something very light and modestly entertaining, 'Journey through the mists' is deserving on its own merits. Don't go out of your way for it, however, and enter knowing fully well that it's a picture existing on a lower stratum than too many other family-friendly flicks that are more significant and impactful. Maybe that's the best way to get the most out of this.
The Land Before Time III: The Time of the Great Giving (1995)
Kith and kin with the first sequel, but a tad more sure-footed and meaningful
If arguably marked by some heavy-handed and unsubtle writing, the first film of 1988 remains a modern classic that holds up well. The same can't quite be said of the first "direct to video" sequel of 1994, 'The Great Valley adventure'; enjoyable on its own merits, the flick is nevertheless one of unsophisticated flavor and fun more than earnest storytelling and substance like its elder. With Don Bluth out of the equation since the progenitor, and a cast and crew returning from 'The land before time II,' it's only reasonably to bear mixed to low expectations of 'The time of the Great Giving.' Still, there's always the chance that it could boast value of its own, so where does the third feature of the franchise actually stand? For better and for worse, it doesn't take long to discern that this is pretty well kith and kin with its immediate predecessor.
Right away we see the same strengths and weaknesses that characterized TLBT2. On the one hand, a tiny science lesson that's a tad forced, overly simplistic narration, gauche and childish songs, extra cutesy voice acting generally, and writing at large - characters, dialogue, story, and scenes - that are decidedly uncomplicated and straightforward, catering directly to the very, very youngest of viewers while favoring the conventional, tried and true, easy, and artless over heartfelt sincerity, drama, and complexity that may appeal to a wider audience of more ages (if not all ages). On the other hand, voice acting that is respectable in and of itself, a swell score, and terrific and detailed animation, including gorgeous backgrounds, lovely effects, and splendid characters designs and other active elements. There are, in fact, solid ideas in the story and scene writing as our core characters, young dinos Littlefoot, Cera, Petrie, Ducky, and Spike, find themselves getting involved in new adventures in and around the prehistoric haven of the Great Valley. I'll even admit that those songs that are undeniably outwardly gauche are kind of catchy.
We even see a wider variety of dinosaurs this time around, even if only in passing, and I'm pleased to note that, as the Great Valley faces hardship, to some degree the picture again touches upon the meaningful themes of prejudice that dominated the first installment. I'd even go so far as to say that overall the thematic foundations are unexpectedly strong - dealing with some notions that are all too real - and once again, there are tinges of mild humor to go along with the mild adventure and the mild drama. It's just unfortunate that in approaching that material, the title seems to have been shaped with a mind for relatively shallow entertainment over nuanced, impactful accentuation of the underlying concepts. In more recent years especially we've seen a boatload of family-friendly fare that respects kids' intelligence and refuses to reduce the more involved and elaborate thoughts on hand. 'The time of the Great Giving' does not necessarily fit into that category, and my issue is that it easily could have.
Nevertheless, no matter how much we may deign to critique the film, it's hardly as if it's bad. This was not molded in a manner that fully meets its potential, but all involved still turned in good work under those circumstances. It's a suitably good time, and we get at least some measure of what we came for. No, it's nothing that demands viewership, and it pales in comparison to the progenitor, but that doesn't mean it's altogether unworthy. Given its shortcomings 'The land before time III' won't stick in our memory after watching, but so long as you can abide such matters, then if you have the chance to check it out then it's good enough for something light.
The Land Before Time II: The Great Valley Adventure (1994)
Less earnest substance, more uncomplicated fun - but still suitably worthwhile
The first film of 1988 holds up gratifyingly well, no matter how much we may scrutinize some facets. One doesn't wish to wholly dismiss sequels sights unseen - there's always the possibility that they'll be worthwhile on their own merits - but especially with filmmaker Don Bluth not being involved any further, it's only reasonable to approach successors with skepticism. Could 'The Great Valley adventure, coming six years after its predecessor, carry any weight of its own?
To whatever extent one could argue that the writing in 'The land before time' was a tad simplicity, straightforward, and even heavy-handed, it was only in keeping with how kids' movies were widely made for many years, and these traits were outshone by the earnestness of the proceedings. This makes it all the more jarring that the first minutes of 'The land before time II' greet us with narration, dialogue, and scene writing that seem to condescend even more and assume very little of children's intelligence; voice work that, while respectable in and of itself (I mean, who could ever fault Rob Paulsen for a single thing?), leans extra hard into being childish, cutesy, and simplistic (my goodness, our lead characters spend as much time screaming here as they do speaking); and songs sung in-character that bear scarcely more complexity than stick figures do. Frankly even the characters readily come across as reduced and diminished - written not for kids aged six to nine years, but those aged two to three years.
Make no mistake, this picture is an emphatically lesser creation when stood next to the progenitor, or for that matter too much of family-friendly fare generally. That still doesn't mean that it's altogether bereft of value, for there are fair ideas in the story and scene writing as our established characters Littlefoot, Cera, Ducky, Petrie, and Spike find themselves having a new little adventure in the Great Valley that they discovered the last time. (Yes, the name is very on the nose.) There's some mild humor that lands, too (and maybe some that's unintentional). "Eggnapper" antagonists Ozzy and Strut, voiced by veteran voice actors Paulsen and Jeff Bennett, are unexpected joys, possibly benefiting from the best writing and the best songwriting ("Eggs"). Composer Michael Tavera, picking up where James Horner left off, provides a lovely score. And while Universal Cartoon Studios takes over the visual reins from Sullivan Bluth Studios, broadly speaking the animation is just as dependable. The colors are more vivid, in fact, as we get beautiful painted backgrounds, and splendid detail in everything from environments and effects to character designs and other active elements.
Still, I can't help but feel that 'The Great Valley adventure' tries entirely too hard to appeal directly to the very youngest of viewers, reaching for unsophisticated entertainment that's more Elmo than it is Oscar The Grouch, or more 'Teletubbies' than 'Chowder.' This is seen in the timbres newly provided for our foremost characters as determined by the voice director, arguably in the more vibrant colors, and in the more brusque pacing. Even as our diminutive dinos' constitutional puts them in some danger and takes them to surprising places, the stakes feel notably lower and more contrived. There's little sense of drama, and in all honesty this flick feels less sincere and meaningful. It still claims value, and it's not as if the participants were phoning in their contributions. Yet fair ideas and potential seem to have been rendered with a mind the cheap and easy, the tried and true, and the conventional and artless, and what worth the feature boasts faces an uphill battle to be concretely enjoyable by anyone except the presumed intended audience of toddlers and preschool youths.
It's a good time, yes. But one has to be definitively aware of the enormous disparity between the 1994 antecedent and this 1994 follow-up: a gulf of less substance and more flavor, and of less heartfelt storytelling and more uncomplicated fun. Provided that's something one can get on board with the title remains a minor pleasure, though at the same time, I certainly can't begrudge anyone who takes a harsher view towards it. For my part I do like 'The land before time II,' and I'm glad I took the opportunity to watch; it's just that any recommendation 'The Great Valley adventure' deserves is a rather soft one, and it's not something that commands our attention, or which one is likely to think on at any point after watching.
The Land Before Time (1988)
A modern classic that boasts firm, undeniable strengths
I did actually watch this when I was very young (which VHS release, I do not know), but not at any point since. After so long I've remembered nothing about the movie except the names of a couple characters, and a vague sense of having been scared by the T-Rex. Of course, even setting aside the numerous "direct to video" sequels, I think it's fair to say that this progenitor, in the very least, has claimed a lasting presence in culture. With all this in mind the question remains - how good is 'The land before time?' How does it hold up after all this time? Happily, I believe it holds up very well indeed, and while I wouldn't go so far as to say it utterly demands viewership, it's a modern classic that remains very worthwhile.
The one criticism I would charge is that with some exceptions the film tends to be heavy-handed and unsubtle when it comes to its storytelling, its characters, the shifting moods, and its themes. This alone isn't outright bad, mind you, and it's how features geared toward kids were made for a very long time, making material very simple and digestible for even the youngest of viewers. It's just that especially in more recent years, filmmakers and storytellers have declined to look down on children and their intelligence, and these days we're used to family-friendly features that retain nuance and complexity, therefore looking to appeal to broad audiences rather than the youngest viewers alone. 'The land before time' holds up splendidly, but it belongs more than not to that latter-day category of straightforward simplicity. Make of that what you will.
Be that as it may, we get an earnest and heartfelt story, with characters of sharp personality, and strong scene writing to cement the proceedings. There is light humor and plain silliness, impactful drama and saccharine sentimentality, a sense of adventure, and distinctly more tense and harrowing moments, as a disparate group of young dinosaurs venture together toward the "Great Valley," hoping to reunite with their elders there, and along the way fighting the prejudices they were raised with. Yes, this picture is very much about racism, but as kind, determined Littlefoot (a brontosaurus), proud and haughty Cera (a triceratops), indefatigably friendly Ducky (a saurolophus), anxious Petrie (a pteranodon), and slow but stalwart Spike (a stegosaurus) work together toward their common goal, they overcome such ugly bias and learn how their ancestors were misguided. Even with the material being treated with a heavier hand, I dare say the title really does hit all the right notes in turn, making it lightly funny, gently frightening, and meaningfully heartbreaking and heartwarming.
It's Don Bluth's name that the world knows best, the man behind this and many other classics. But that's hardly to count out the keen writing of Judy Freudberg, Tony Geiss, or Stu Krieger, the dynamic music of late great composer James Horner, or the terrific voice acting that brings these characters and their journey to life. Just as much to the point, the animators turned in outstanding work. The painted backgrounds are rich with tremendous detail, making the prehistoric world as beautiful as it is dangerous, and equally alien; from the character designs to other active elements including "earth-shakes," lava, and more there's a lot for our eyes to take in at any time. Even the sky, dim cave interiors, and other environmental ambience is lent a colorful splendor that's unexpected. One may reasonably point out that the medium has advanced since 1988, and we may have personal favorites elsewhere, but that doesn't for one moment diminish the excellence that Sullivan Bluth Studios provided for this standout of 1988.
Little tidbits all throughout are quite clever, and no matter how much we may scrutinize this or that, the result is truly lovely, and if anything only finds more strength as the minutes tick by. Actually, revisiting after all these years, it's even better than I guessed it would be. Yes, it may be relatively simple and straightforward, but that doesn't take away from the wonderful sincerity of the narrative, nor the hard work that went into it. I still wouldn't say 'The land before time' is altogether a must-see, yet it stands so firm and tall on its own merits that it would be a sore mistake not to watch if one has the opportunity. This is one kids' movie that safely earns a solid recommendation.
U Turn (1997)
A joyfully brazen grab bag of violence and dark humor, surprising again and again in the best of ways
This is surely a prime example of how music can make all the difference in a movie. From the moment this begins it has the makings of a neo-noir crime thriller as we readily discern we're dealing with a criminal of some sort, and within a fraction of the length we get glimpses of something seedy and discrete violence before the plot particularly kicks up - to say nothing of Jennifer Lopez's troubled, sultry Grace, and the heat of the desert that is lent extra flavor through the color saturation of film processing, and so much more to come. And, sure, as we saw in 'Natural born killers' especially, Oliver Stone knows how to give a story extra spice, and as John Ridley adapts his own novel, 'U turn ' is already full of personality and vitality. Yet composer extraordinaire Ennio Morricone goes a step further still. He doesn't give us a score that specifically, exclusively reflects that sordid tenor: there's moodiness, yes, and lock-and-key ambience that neatly fits given scenes, but many of the man's themes are playful and cheeky in a manner that pointedly contrasts with the dark nature of the course of events. This could have been a straightforward and decidedly grim crime flick as protagonist Bobby finds himself in over his head and drawn into more and more foulness, but between Stone, and Ridley, and above all Morricone, there's almost a wry, comedic edge to it all.
And so it is on down the line, really. The material is ripe for the telling one way or another, but with Stone, Ridley, and arguably Morricone above all leading the way, this is shaped with so much wild zest that it more closely recalls larks like David Lynch's 'Wild at heart,' or even John Waters' 'Cecil B. Demented,' or a plain old modern B-movie. This goes for the story with all its bad turns for Bobby, and the zing of the scene writing, not to mention the outrageous characters and vivacious dialogue, all taking place in a seemingly sleepy, dusty town in the middle of nowhere. That absolutely goes for the cast that gives vibrant performances from top to bottom - a cast filled with recognizable names and faces, some notably young or relatively early in their career (Claire Danes, Joaquin Phoenix, Jennifer Lopez), some matching the far-flung costume design, hair, and makeup that dress them up (Billy Bob Thornton, Jon Voight), and some just altogether embracing the peculiar energy of the proceedings with all due fervor (Sean Penn, Nick Nolte). Stone himself maintains a steady electricity throughout the feature, and select songs appearing on the soundtrack echo Morricone's eclectic brilliance. Even cinematographer Robert Richardson, and editors Hank Corwin and Thomas J. Nordberg, are given plentiful opportunity to garnish the film with their own varieties of tasteful zing.
The result is, admittedly, something that's kind of all over the place, even as it tap dances across familiar territory. Yet in daring to be so violent (the stunts and effects are also fantastic), so funny (the humor both overt and sideways is a total joy), so severe and dramatic (the core really is cut from the same cloth as classic film-noir), and at times so downright outlandish and unabashedly frisky all at once, the fact is that 'U turn' provides a viewing experience so marvelously multifaceted, complete, and fun that I actually wonder if it isn't the best thing that Stone has ever done. Everyone involved unflinchingly toys with our expectations and gives us one odd turn after another - some fairly restrained and judicious, some decidedly more far-fetched, and some outright jocular - and when all is said and done the title is way more entertaining than I'd have ever supposed sights unseen. Actually, I wasn't necessarily looking forward to it in the first place since the premise seemed so ordinary, yet the sum total is anything but ordinary. This is an instance where Stone, Ridley, Morricone, Penn, Lopez, the whole rest of the cast, and everyone behind the scenes just let themselves fully let loose, to ends both serious and brazen, and I can't overstate how immensely enjoyable it is to watch something so outwardly common, with contributors who have enjoyed earnest careers, reveal itself to be something so blissfully free-wheeling.
What more is there to say? It's cold, harsh, bloody, and ultimately bleak as much as it is flagrantly flirtatious and sprightly, and all told it's such an intoxicating ride that provided one is receptive to the grab bag, I can only give it my very high, hearty, and enthusiastic recommendation. 'U turn' is a cinematic whirlwind, and this is one treasure you really just have to see for yourself.
The Smart Set (1928)
Overall enjoyable and worthwhile
I miss silent movies. Even setting aside that the medium lost something (or many somethings) after transitioning to talkies, the least that could be said is that getting a peek into a world of another era, with the values of another era, is fascinating. Being so far removed from the Roaring Twenties there are of course nonetheless many themes and ideas that are timeless, holding true decades later for better and for worse, but it's also the case that even characters who wouldn't be remotely sympathetic in a modern title - such as, say, the self-absorbed athlete of a sport that's known as recreation for the very wealthy - can be made amusing (to one degree or another) through the lens of the past. And so we have 'The smart set,' produced by titanic figures Louis B. Mayer and Irving Thalberg and released in 1928. Even within only the first several minutes there is much to take in in all the above capacities, and I can't say that it's not enjoyable.
For sure, protagonist Tommy is smarmy, conceited, and unlikable, thoughtlessly putting others at risk and actively disregarding norms, laws, and others' wishes and well-being. He's indistinguishable from the worst of modern men; gag me with a spoon. Yet this flick is built as a comedy, and between the contributions of all involved, it quickly shows itself to be a mild delight. It would be more so if Tommy weren't such a complete ogre - I mean, good grief - yet Byron Morgan penned smart, flavorful, peppy scene writing to fill out the narrative of a buffoonish man in desperate need of self-realization, self-awareness, and redemption. Robert Hopkins, serving up the intertitles, similarly provides some sharp, clever dialogue (and expository slides). This is to say nothing of the spirited acting of the cast, including above all William Haines (Tommy) and Alice Day (Polly), and the capable direction of Jack Conway that maintains a zestful spark about the proceedings.
From top to bottom the writing is full of personality (some really awful personality, but still), and that is unfailingly brought out in the direction and acting. No matter the complexity of stunts or any given sequence, all are orchestrated and executed with a deft, skillful hand, including the polo scenes, which are surely a credit as well to the horses and their trainers. To that same end, cinematographer Oliver T. Marsh illustrates a keen eye for detail just like filmmaker Conway, and we're sure at all times to get eyefuls of that which will meaningfully advance the story and/or add to the fun to be had. Even Sam Zimbalist's editing is notably admirable in my opinion. Of course the crew operating behind the scenes also turned in fine work, including sets, costume design, and hair and makeup, not least in visualizing a bygone era. Provided we can abide how loathsome the protagonist is on his rocky, pothole-ridden path to being even a slightly decent person, is there actually anything amiss in this picture?
Well, there's this: over the course of seven reels, this takes a long, long time to move the needle even a little from deep, deep in the territory of "Tommy is a despicable beast" to the nearest border of "maybe there's hope for him after all." Even at that, it seems to me that while it's all played for gentle entertainment, the humor relies heavily on an ugly mean streak at least as much as if not more than on silliness or wit. Tommy gets away with behavior that he never, ever should, in any timeframe or context, and we as an audience are supposed to find it funny? We're supposed to accept that someone so ghoulish would in any reality be fawned over by women, or should gain sympathy - from anyone - before he demonstrates the slightest contrition? After everything he did we're supposed to extend total forgiveness when, within only the last quarter of the length, he starts to show glimmers of humanity? For good measure, add in late, small moments of racist stereotyping, and a racist joke. Oof.
Suffice to say that by the values of any decade, I believe 'The smart set' is far too willing to give our protagonist a pass for his grave flaws, and is far too willing to accept him back into the good graces of civilized society. The allowances we extend for suspension of disbelief, for fiction, and for comedy only go so far. Still, we do get a character arc, and a duly compelling story, and we do have a good time as is intended. It bears repeating that all involved did a swell job, including the stunts (even through to the end), and inasmuch as this is a sports film, the exhibition is unexpectedly splendid, too. I have problems with this title, but it's still worthwhile on its own merits even almost a full century later. Even if you're wholly enamored with the silent era, as I am, I don't think there's any need to go out of your way for this, but even as you should be aware of the issues on hand 'The smart set' is fairly deserving if you have a chance to check it out.
Love Bound (1932)
Flat, middling writing and direction stifle all its potential
I don't mean especial disrespect to anyone involved when I say that I didn't have high expectations. It's just that between norms and values of the time, contemporary sensibilities of storytelling or film-making, and above all filmmakers and actors still adjusting to the new paradigm of sound cinema, features of the early to mid 30s tend to be middling and undistinguished. There are plentiful exceptions, by all means, yet with weak audio, image quality that is often grainy at best, usually a flat or inconsistent tone, and acting and/or direction of variable strength - let alone the question of the writing - many titles released around the same period struggle to make a mark, let alone a particularly good impression. Robert F. Hill's 'Love bound' of 1932, also known as 'Murder on the high seas,' is not immune to these concerns.
It's not that the picture is afflicted by all the above issues all the time, nor in equal measure, but the impact is unmistakable. In a runtime of only sixty minutes the exposition of the first quarter feels muddled, and plot development is bland and soft. Cast members such as Jack Mulhall must be depended upon to try to inject some vitality into the proceedings that is sorely lacked in Hill's direction or even the narrative or scene writing, but those same latter factors, among others, restrict their abilities to do so. Alternatively, under those circumstances performances may feel overcooked, and therefore false and hokey. It doesn't help that the feature makes only infrequent, irregular use of music to help round out rough edges or fill silence where there could be at least some background noise; this is not uncommon for the early 30s, of course, and some flicks get by just fine without - but once again, the overall so-so construction means that this is already facing an uphill battle.
There is potential in the story, perhaps, but it would take a very refined, practiced hand to shape the material into a form even on paper that would hold water, let alone stand out, and Hill, James R. Gilbert, and George H. Plympton lack that hand. An equal lack of refinement in the humdrum execution, captured on film, means that the minutes lackadaisically sail past without us hardly taking notice. Case in point, before I knew it we were already at the halfway mark, and a critical plot point seemed to have already transpired, but it came so unremarkably that I found myself earnestly pondering how we arrived at that juncture. And unfortunately, at no time in the length does the storytelling or film-making boast remotely enough power or vigor to come off any better. 'Love bound' is a cruise, alright, but it's a cruise so passive and smooth that one could be forgiven for thinking the ship never left port.
We can at least say that those operating behind the scenes turned in some fine work, including the sets, costume design, and hair and makeup. But if that's the most significant praise to offer, how far does that get us? Even moments of violence in the last quarter, ably orchestrated in and of themselves, are treated poorly by both the writing and direction, and so amount to nothing of consequence. Even with all this said I don't think the flick is altogether bad. For as mediocre as it is, however, and considering the whole wide world of cinema that otherwise waits to be explored or revisited, why would we spend time here in the first place? I guess I'm glad for those who get more out of it than I do, but while I don't specifically regret watching 'Love bound,' nor can I really give it an honest recommendation.
Valley Girl (1983)
A solidly enjoyable minor classic
I know it can sometimes seem as if the contemporary world seen in silent movies is practically fantastical, but even with the benefits of being sixty-some years more recent, and a soundtrack populated with big hits, this isn't much different. The Valley culture, with its preppy attitudes of false propriety and pastel, collared fashion, is all but alien. While the punk culture Randy comes from is more familiar, there are still social values and cues at play that to me seem out of this world, and I don't know how much of that can be attributed to contemporary L. A. genuinely being so different, and how much to me being a fairly asocial person. The house parties, the very public ogling of the opposite sex, the dating, the way that the friend groups interact - I've been told that Amy Heckerling's 'Clueless' is surprisingly true to life, so could that really mean that 'Valley girl' is, too? That's hard for me to fathom.
If we can get past the culture shock, the catchy songs - and, well, also the total sleaziness of too many male characters, the ugly prejudice we see on full display of "in" groups and "out" groups, passing instances of homophobic language, and possibly triggering references to eating disorders - there's a lot to like about this flick. It's a romantic comedy-drama, sure, rooted in very familiar territory, but we're also greeted with meaningful themes and ideas as Julie finds herself torn between the oddball outsider that's an unlikely match, and the very judgmental, controlling corner of society that she and her friends grew up in. It feels strange to revisit this forty years later and see Nicolas Cage so young in the first place, and secondly giving a performance that's more restrained and down to earth than so many others he has given, but he's a gem nonetheless; I know Deborah Foreman didn't necessarily get high marks for her acting, but given Julie's predicament and troubled mindset, I think she does just swell. That's to say nothing of the personality lent to the proceedings by Cameron Dye, Frederic Forrest, Elizabeth Daily, and those in other supporting parts.
I'm not saying that the picture is any sort of must-see, but writers and producers Wayne Crawford and Andrew Lane give us a solid story, blended with kernels of fun humor, and realized through strong scene writing and apt characterizations. Martha Coolidge isn't busting down doors with her direction, but she ably brings every mood to bear with a steady low buzz of electricity to keep the feature fresh. Further taking into account the production design and art direction, and costume design, hair, and makeup, 'Valley girl' can claim plenty of flavor to realize the clash of cultures and hearts. It's neither riotously funny nor specifically impactful, but it does earn laughs and it does provide some modest food for thought as we're treated to an admirable blend of earnestness and entertainment that ensures a good time. Whatever one's impetus for watching there's no need to go out of your way for this, and I quite think we could have done without some tidbits that haven't aged well. If you have the chance to watch, though, it's an enjoyable film that holds up reasonably well, and I'm glad to give 'Valley girl' my fair recommendation.
Napoléon vu par Abel Gance (1927)
A colossal classic that still remains stunning and vibrant
Long before this epic ever even entered the planning stages, filmmaker Abel Gance had already proven himself to be an early master of the medium. 1923's 'La roue' is marvelously absorbing; 'Les gaz mortels,' of 1916, is earnestly thrilling and suspenseful; his 1919 war epic 'J'accuse' has scarcely once left my thoughts since I watched it many months ago. As if there could ever be any doubt, 'Napoléon' only further cements the man's legacy as an icon and a pioneer who is sadly underappreciated in the wider world of cinema. It would behoove one to read all about this momentous production, and the various restorations it has undergone in the past 100 years, because the ongoing story of the picture is fascinating in and of itself. Regardless, scarcely any sooner than it begins one starts to appreciate why Gance is and should be so revered, and why this 1927 feature continues to stand tall all these decades later. From the first to the last 'Napoléon' is a treasure, and anyone who considers themselves a cinephile should make it a priority to see it at one time or another.
By all means, there's a tremendous amount to appreciate here in the same way as it true of most movies. The cast is roundly superb; even child actors seen fleetingly make a minor impression, nevermind young Vladimir Roudenko who was only 17 when he made his mark as the general in boyhood, and let alone Albert Dieudonné, the chief star of the biopic, and many others. From the youngest to the oldest each player demonstrates range, nuance, poise, and emotional depth beyond what is customarily presumed of the silent era, and just as much to the point, beyond what anyone demonstrated in Ridley Scott's bogus bluster of 2023. The filming locations are excellent, and more than that, the sets are totally outstanding - rich with intoxicating detail we can easily get lost in, and bringing the world of two centuries ago to vivid life. The same could be said of the costume design, hair, and makeup, and we've not even touched upon Gance's keen eye for shot composition, the supremely mindful use of lighting and shadow that further enriches the proceedings, or his impeccable direction that again and again latches onto and amplifies the vibrancy to be discovered in even the most outwardly mundane sequence. No moment is too small to stand tall in Gance's vision.
But we're just getting started. Within even only the first miniscule fraction of the runtime - whatever runtime that may be, depending on the restoration we're able to get our hands on - Gance, and co-editor Marguerite Beaugé, and cinematographer Jules Kruger, illustrate technical ingenuity and innovation that is all but mind-blowing. There is much that audiences take for granted in the twenty-first century, techniques and technology that are so common now as to be all but passé. In 1927, such techniques and technology were just being developed, and if they weren't being seen for the first time, then they were still being met with fresh eyes upon every incidence and every showing. This includes, to my utmost, rapturous delight, camera movement, and hand-held camerawork. It includes rapid, nigh phantasmagoric cutting and sequencing, split-screen presentation that at times is all but kaleidoscopic, multiple exposure and superimposition, projection onto multiple screens, and creative, varied tinting. It includes close-ups, point-of-view shots, location shooting, and still more. In 2024 such things are seen quite routinely. In 1927, they were groundbreaking, and for anyone who admires the art form as much as I do, it takes our breath away.
And we're still not done. There's the terrific special makeup, stunts, practical effects, and action sequences that are unexpectedly jarring. There's the sense of both grandeur and spectacle, and of an epic in the truest sense as we follow a figure on such a remarkable journey of life, over so many years, even setting aside the many meters of film stock that were involved in the process. That Kevin Brownlow's most widely available restorations of the 2000s clock in at five and one-half hours, that the most recent restoration that premiered in Paris is over seven hours, and that other iterations - depending on reconstructed footage, or projector speed - have ranged from three hours at the most abbreviated, to an astonishing supposed nine and one-half hours upon the film's most famous exhibition in May 1927, only underscores the immensity of the project. At a time when one- and two-reel shows were common, and "full-length" titles were regularly fifty to sixty minutes, and anything two to three hours long was fairly extraordinary, the enormity of Gance's undertaking for his treatment of Napoleon Bonaparte is difficult to even fathom. With meticulous scene writing and a comprehensive narrative setting the stage for all the ardor of the execution, it cannot be overstated what a phenomenal accomplishment 'Napoléon' is even on just the most fundamental level of its construction.
Even if one does not customarily engage with the silent era, there cannot possibly be any denying the magnificence of this grand endeavor. Even if one should personally take issue with the pacing, the strength of one scene compared to another, the scope and breadth of Gance's treatment (for example, whatever I've learned of the French legend in the past, I don't think I've ever heard of Pasquale Paoli or Pozzo di Borgo, but the filmmaker ensures that we know their names), or some other facet, from one moment to the next the whole is so wonderfully engrossing and satisfying, in truly every way, that such subjective considerations invariably feel minor. Regardless of precisely what we judge its quality to be, this picture is an achievement with relatively few comparisons, on the order of Georges Méliès' imaginative 'A trip to the moon,' the Technicolor bliss of 'The Wizard of Oz,' the dazzling scale and like vision of 'Apocalypse now,' or the otherworldly reverie of Peter Jackson's 'Lord of the rings' trilogy. For all that, the fact is that I, for one, find the quality here to be only the very highest. Gance's ambition was great, yet with such fantastic skill, intelligence, hard work, and care poured into the production, so too is the end result. 'Napoléon' is an enduring marvel.
If all these words have been too loquacious, however, allow me to speak more plainly. There are many, many shots throughout the feature that are a true feast for the eyes, and they wouldn't look out of place framed and hung on a wall. There are many, many sequences that are just as fabulously resplendent and innervating, giving us an incredible abundance and stir to take in. Some action sequences are so smartly shot and assembled, and so genuinely invigorating and exciting, that I would have no qualms standing them shoulder to shoulder with other examples to follow in all the many subsequent years. At any given time we might be entranced with the technical craft, with the labor of the production and filming, with the scene or plot point that is unfolding, or perhaps still something else or maybe all at once, and the fact is that every last trace is just as exceptional, and just as worthy of praise and recognition. While I wouldn't necessarily name it as one of my favorites, and while it may not fully resonate on the same level as other exemplars over the years, this title is such a triumph that I'm inclined to think it inherently deserves to be named as one of the best pictures ever made. It is, in all honesty, just that brilliant and striking.
If there is any possible criticism to impart, it may be that in the latter half the energy slackens somewhat, and the viewing experience becomes a little more ordinary, not least as the narrative shifts for a time toward the subject's domestic life. At no time is this any less well made, but one could argue that some portions lack the same fervent vitality - and indeed, the same ingenuity - that commonly courses throughout the length otherwise. Be that as it may, there's not truly any going wrong here. It won't immediately appeal to all comers, nor find equal favor with all. No matter how we may scrutinize, though, it would be a terrible mistake to pass up the opportunity to watch; whether one is specifically enamored with the silent era or just deeply in love with cinema as a whole, this century-old masterpiece is a gem that continues to inspire awe. No minutiae are so tiny as to have escaped Gance's attention in shaping this creation; no minutiae are too tiny to bring joy to the attentive viewer, and to mesmerize us, long, long before this ever reaches a climax. Even in a medium full of sensations, 'Napoléon' is a rare pleasure. From the surprising strength of the very first scene through to the final stretch, presented as a triptych, that is utterly outstanding and sincerely inspired and captivating, I can only give it my very high, hearty, and enthusiastic recommendation.
Ben-Hur (2016)
At times genuinely good; too often, decidedly questionable
Fred Niblo's silent epic of 1925 remains a tremendous classic that holds up as well today as when it premiered almost 100 years ago. The sets are utterly incredible, the costume design is gorgeous, the violence is surprisingly violent and gripping, and the climactic chariot race is legendary. Of course, William Wyler's 1959 rendition with Charlton Heston is more famous, now, but it can claim all the same splendor. It also claims the same flaws, though. While the core of both iterations is the saga of the prince who became a slave, in turn an adopted son of Rome, and then a champion, the sad truth is that both are also greatly diminished by the horridly heavy-handed shoehorning of religion into that saga. It's done in different ways, to some extent, but the biblical bluster is inserted so gawkily into the proceedings that it terribly weighs down the whole(s) and emphatically reduces the lasting value that the films can claim. I suppose all this can be traced to Lew Wallace's novel, but as I've not read it, I can't say. All this is is just patter, however, building to the immediately relevant question: literary faithfulness notwithstanding, what might we anticipate of a new interpretation of 'Ben-Hur' in 2016, made by the same man who brought us - um, pardon me, I'm a little taken aback here - 'Abraham Lincoln: Vampire hunter?'
There is significant, questionable stylization here, at some points more than others, but at least it's usually not as garish as in Timur Bekmambetov's best known work. Troubling as that is, I'm more concerned with how gawkily forced and brusque the man's direction is, not least in moments that are supposed to be rousing or moving; the first scene in which we see Jesus, for example, nearly inspires laughter. Speaking of which, the dialogue is often clunky, and the scene writing often pointedly unsubtle. Moreover, the scene writing, and the orchestration of shots and scenes, relies heavily on very modern sensibilities of tension or spectacle. Case in point, it seems to me that Bekmambetov takes a lot of cues from Peter Jackson's biggest achievement: in gritty battle sequences, with marching soldiers, in the portrayal of a snowy mountaintop, in the visualization of Jerusalem as a vertically resplendent metropolis, and so on, and so on. Now, I'm not about to lambaste this production for big-budget modern standards in contrast with the older variants seen in 1925 and 1959 - I made that mistake before with 'Star Trek: Enterprise' - but there's no mistaking how very shiny and new this feature looks; make of that what you will. Looks, and sounds, if we're being honest, considering not just the robust sound design but also Marco Beltrami's score.
With all this firmly in mind, I have to give credit where it's due. Screenwriters Keith Clarke and John Ridley do occasionally provide some earnest treatment of the material. Wyler had improved upon Niblo in terms of how Messala is depicted, giving the antagonist a tad more complexity, and I think Clarke and RIdley improve still more upon that by accentuating the depths and nature of his friendship with Judah. Just as much to the point, the path that led to Messala betraying Judah is also given some smart consideration, and arguably comes off better here than it has before. I dare say Judah, too, is made out to be a more complicated person in this script than in those prior exemplars. Then again, even on paper the galley sequence - one of the two most critical highlights of both 1925 and 1959 - is made to be far more visceral and gnarly, but at the same time it's so overdone (and, yes, stylized) that it quite lacks the finessed, deliberate potency of what came before. Some later scenes with Jesus actually do inspire laughter for how melodramatic and overwrought they are. I'm not about to give a definitive statement on the precise plot development in these two hours, and whether or not this conception is better or worse than that of the predecessors in light of the slightly different path it takes, but I will say that one way or another I'm not fully convinced.
And still we must contend with the fact that where Clarke and Ridley's writing isn't the issue, Bekmambetov's direction too often is; it's one thing to make a new 'Ben-Hur,' and it's another to twist the telling into something that audiences addicted to action blockbusters will flock to. By no means is his guidance all bad, just as the picture as a whole is not all bad. Scrutinize as we may, there's much to appreciate in one manner or another. It is gratifying that Bekmambetov accordingly worked so hard to minimize the use of computer-generated imagery, and where it is used I think it's woven in well for the most part. The filming locations are beautiful, and the detail we see in the production design and art direction, and in the costume design, hair, and makeup, is all very welcome and most excellent. I admire the work of the sound department, even if the sound design is a tad imbalanced (quiet scenes exist on a separate level from the greatest clamor, and voiceovers are louder yet). Beltrami's score feels a smidgen out of place with its modern chords, and may even be too overly dramatic for the movie, but I'm hardly going to outright dismiss the man's skills as a composer. The stunts and effects are fantastic. This title has problems, but among them is not specifically that it is poorly made.
I think what it comes down to is that this flick tries much too hard to appeal to modern audiences, and in the process forgets what made its antecedents resonate so stupendously. The visuals are fetching, but there is no contrast or nuance; it aims for spectacle, but goes overboard and feels empty; it is dramatic, but too overzealous in its dispensation. The refined touch, and the delicate hand and mindfulness that made the 'Ben-Hur' of 1925 and the 'Ben-Hur' of 1959 so powerful at their best, is here turned into coarseness, overconfidence, and carelessness. There are high notes, including the fundamental craftsmanship and other small moments, and improvements including not just Messala and Judah but arguably even how supporting character Esther is written, and how the bits about Jesus are infused (decidedly imperfect, if not altogether unnecessary, though they may be). Then we see another instance of how this goes wrong, however, and unfortunately even the essential chariot race - the other most critical highlight of both 1925 and 1959 - suffers from the same faults as the galley sequence. Well and truly, I don't think this is downright bad, and no one is more surprised than I am by me saying that. But at too many times it is careless, or at least approached with too little care, and the result is unmistakably a lesser creation than its forebears.
I won't say "don't watch this." I will say that even for what 2016 does well, 1925 and 1959 remain distinctly more vital and stunning despite their own faults, and that if you want to watch 'Ben-Hur,' you're better off with one of the older productions. I will say that if you want to watch a modern blockbuster, this is made for you, but then, so are many other unrelated contemporaries that are otherwise stronger features in many, many regards. With the two most important scenes of the cinematic adaptations being overcooked in this case, with other odds and ends being written into the narrative somewhat flimsily, with the intended meaningful ending causing one to flinch with skepticism, and with Bekmambetov's direction and other facets raising doubts in our minds again and again, why would we take time to watch this except for sheer curiosity? As is almost always true, I'm genuinely glad for those who get more out this than I do. On the balance, however, the strengths and weaknesses do not result in a film of especial lasting value, so unless you're that cinephile who will watch almost anything and everything, there's not much need to spend time wondering if you should watch 2016's 'Ben-Hur.' My commendations to all involved for what they did accomplish - and my best wishes that in the future and elsewhere all will more surely demonstrate their skills. Part of me wants to like this more than I do, but even as the outrageously stylized end credits flash on our screen (suggesting AL:VH after all), part of me also wonders if I'm not being far too generous in my assessment.
Robin Hood (1973)
Still an absolute treasure, a delight for all ages
It's been a very long time since I last watched this, but I have fond memories of it from my childhood. There's no getting around the influence it has had in the fifty years since its release: being the foundation of one of the first widespread memes on the modern Internet; being referenced in unrelated ad campaigns; inspiring animators, filmmakers, and voice actors to come; and among still more, helping normies like me to in some measure understand the furry community of which we can otherwise make neither head nor tail. (Listen, even I won't deny - to borrow the verbiage of someone or other, both Robin Hood and Maid Marian can Get It.) This is to say nothing of the classic adaptation of a classic story with its classic, (infuriatingly) timeless themes; the classic music, and the classic humor that appeals to kids and adults alike; the classic animation, even if some of it is borrowed from past Disney titles; and so on. The scene writing, the dialogue, and the reimagined characters are all utmost joys; the voice acting is a delight; from character designs, to backgrounds, to action scenes and all active elements, the visuals are a pleasure.
Hardly sooner than it begins, there's no mistaking that 'Robin Hood' holds up stupendously. Sure, we can say that animation has advanced in the years since, but that's true of every art form over time. We can say that the depiction in an early scene of Roma stereotypes is less than perfect, and distinctly needs to be acknowledged, but I'm not inclined to think the incidence here is so severe as to deserve outright condemnation. We can harp on the recycled animation, or on how some character designs rely on cultural notions of what various animals represent that are so well-worn that they're basically just clichés; at the same time, this kind of just comes with the territory of animation of past years, and with fiction that anthropomorphizes animals. One could also easily otherwise get bogged down in the details, and write a whole book about the values that are represented in these eighty-three minutes, the details of the script from humor to visual gags and tiny kernels of dialogue, and so on. No matter how much we may scrutinize or criticize, however, it also says something that there's so much to digest and explore here.
Much has been made over time of how some kids' movies lean extra hard into being so silly and simple that only a child could appreciate it, and how especially in more recent years filmmakers have been more thoughtful - refusing to underestimate kids' intelligence, and penning more nuanced and complex fare that can truly appeal to audiences of all ages. Revisiting this 1973 picture after so long, I freely admit that I didn't anticipate it would count among such latter examples, but in fact, I quite think it does. Producer and director Wolfgang Reitherman, and the considerable team of writers behind this production, offer up a lighthearted tale of swashbuckling adventure and heroism that I firmly believe everyone can enjoy on one level or another. Some tidbits deserve a more discerning eye, yes, but they don't specifically take away from the fun, or from the meaningful ideas that are so integral to the legend of Robin Hood. If in any way this feature stops short of being genuinely impeccable, for the level on which it operates, what's the functional difference? Either way, I'd not hesitate in the slightest to call it a must-see.
Nevermind the specific songs that have endured in pop culture; even the score is a total blast, and in my opinion possibly stronger overall. Every action sequence boasts terrific energy, and frankly that vitality is flush through every other scene, too, no matter the mood. With splendid, careful minutiae filling out the story, scenes, dialogue, and characters, the visual experience, and even the voice acting, there's so much to love all throughout this flick. Why, the film keeps us so thoroughly locked in that by the time we're only halfway through it feels as if we've already had our satisfying fill, and that there still remains so much more is just a wonderful, rewarding bonus. How many other works in the entire medium can make the same claim? In every way that matters, I don't think there's any going wrong here. While I understand that it won't hold equal favor with all comers, no matter who you are, 'Robin Hood' is smart, flavorful, and immensely entertaining, and I hold that everyone needs to see it at one time or another. Five decades later this remains a great treasure, and I can only give it my very high, hearty, and enthusiastic recommendation!