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psionicpoet's rating
There are few films that can make the claim of being regarded as the best film ever made. "Citizen Kane" could. "Casablanca" could. But here on IMDb, "The Godfather" reigns supreme, and with good reason.
Do not make the mistake of thinking that The Godfather is a mobster movie, focusing on action, violence, and Tommy guns. Think of the title, and what it implies. The movie could have been titled "The Mafia", "The Don", or a dozen other things, but instead, they chose a familial word for this film. Thus, it must be the family, and specifically, the role of Godfather, that must be the film's subject.
There are three Godfathers that this movie examines: Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando), Sonny Corleone (James Caan), and Michael Corleone (Al Pacino). All three have their defining traits; Vito his traditional views, Sonny his furious temper, and Michael his reluctance to enter into the family business. Through the leadership of each, the movie follows the story of the Corleone family as they cope with joy and sadness, and life and death.
One of the most enduring aspects of The Godfather is its score. Probably behind only the works of John Williams (Jaws, Star Wars, Indiana Jones) in its recognizability, the familiar theme form The Godfather has become the theme for the mafia and every stereotyped Italian mobster group the world over. Likewise, infamous scenes such as that involving the surprise left for the stubborn director have ingrained themselves into the realm of organized crime forever.
The story that The Godfather tells is superb. As power transfers from one leader to the next, we hope for the best for people that are ultimately criminals. How was director Francis Ford Coppola able to humanize figures that would typically be stereotyped? By infusing them with life and background, and showing to the audience that even the hardest mafia hitman has a softer side.
The Godfather has accomplished a feat few films have: winning enough critical and audience acclaim to cement itself in cinema history forever. As long as people desire to experience human drama on an intimate level, The Godfather will "make them an offer they can't refuse".
Do not make the mistake of thinking that The Godfather is a mobster movie, focusing on action, violence, and Tommy guns. Think of the title, and what it implies. The movie could have been titled "The Mafia", "The Don", or a dozen other things, but instead, they chose a familial word for this film. Thus, it must be the family, and specifically, the role of Godfather, that must be the film's subject.
There are three Godfathers that this movie examines: Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando), Sonny Corleone (James Caan), and Michael Corleone (Al Pacino). All three have their defining traits; Vito his traditional views, Sonny his furious temper, and Michael his reluctance to enter into the family business. Through the leadership of each, the movie follows the story of the Corleone family as they cope with joy and sadness, and life and death.
One of the most enduring aspects of The Godfather is its score. Probably behind only the works of John Williams (Jaws, Star Wars, Indiana Jones) in its recognizability, the familiar theme form The Godfather has become the theme for the mafia and every stereotyped Italian mobster group the world over. Likewise, infamous scenes such as that involving the surprise left for the stubborn director have ingrained themselves into the realm of organized crime forever.
The story that The Godfather tells is superb. As power transfers from one leader to the next, we hope for the best for people that are ultimately criminals. How was director Francis Ford Coppola able to humanize figures that would typically be stereotyped? By infusing them with life and background, and showing to the audience that even the hardest mafia hitman has a softer side.
The Godfather has accomplished a feat few films have: winning enough critical and audience acclaim to cement itself in cinema history forever. As long as people desire to experience human drama on an intimate level, The Godfather will "make them an offer they can't refuse".
Oft-cited as one of the top horror movies of all time, along with such fare as "Jaws" and "Alien", "Psycho" is Alfred Hitchcock's most well-known film. Why would this one film, made before the peak of his career, come to be the most famous? It's simple: Hitchcock was at his best when he toyed with audiences' expectations, and "Psycho" did that in a big way.
Viewers in the 1960's were not as jaded and suspicious when they waled into theaters as they are today. Now, people try to guess the endings of M. Night Shyamalan movies before the first hour is up, whereas the audiences of Hitchcock's time were more passive. Hitchcock took advantage of this quality by establishing a seemingly unstable character -- the titular psycho -- only to force us later on to question who was really most deserving of that dubious honor.
The plot is simple: Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) is a struggling office worker, carrying on a relationship with a man she knows can't support her. Faced with these pressures and an opportunity to change them, she steals $40,000 from her workplace and goes on the run. She stops at the Bates Motel, a forgotten little establishment strapped for visitors ever since the highway was diverted elsewhere. The caretaker there is Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), a charming young man who exudes an aura of strange intensity. It is there at the motel that the fate of Marion and her stolen money will be decided, by forces outside her control. The nature of those forces is not truly revealed until the last minutes of the film, in what was an truly outrageous ending for a movie of the 60's.
The performances of the main characters are very good, with special attention being paid to Anthony Perkins. Perkins never got another major role after his turn as the conflicted Norman Bates; his stellar performance in "Psycho" cementing him in audience's minds as a certain kind of character actor. Janet Leigh as Marion Crane acts just as you would expect a desperate and paranoid criminal on the run to. The supporting cast is capable, with the exception of Marion's love interest, Sam Loomis (John Gavin). He comes off as the typical, brutish boyfriend type, a one-note character with little to do other than exist in various stages of outrage.
The camerawork in "Psycho" is exceptional, especially considering the tools available to Hitchcock at the time. The long zoom in to the room where Sam and Marion are meeting is phenomenal for a 60's movie, as is the way Hitchcock stages the infamous "shower scene" that so scared the public. As in the aforementioned classic horror movies, Hitchcock deftly hides his "monster", his "psycho", allowing us only brief glimpses at it to let the tension and suspense to build. Perhaps the ultimate failing of "Psycho" is in its lasts minutes, when the unmasking of the true "psycho" leaves audiences over-saturated with information when they had so long been left in the dark. There is such a thing as "too much information", and the end of "Psycho" suffers for it.
"Psycho" is and will continue to be remembered as the seminal Hitchcockian film, whether it is his best or not (I, for one, find "Rear Window" to be a better film). With the way Hitchcock played the movie-going audience of his time, it is little wonder why this is. As long as people crave an intelligent, suspenseful horror movie as a respite from "Texas Chainsaw Massacre"-style gorefests, "Psycho" can be assured of its firm place in the cinematic cosmos.
Viewers in the 1960's were not as jaded and suspicious when they waled into theaters as they are today. Now, people try to guess the endings of M. Night Shyamalan movies before the first hour is up, whereas the audiences of Hitchcock's time were more passive. Hitchcock took advantage of this quality by establishing a seemingly unstable character -- the titular psycho -- only to force us later on to question who was really most deserving of that dubious honor.
The plot is simple: Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) is a struggling office worker, carrying on a relationship with a man she knows can't support her. Faced with these pressures and an opportunity to change them, she steals $40,000 from her workplace and goes on the run. She stops at the Bates Motel, a forgotten little establishment strapped for visitors ever since the highway was diverted elsewhere. The caretaker there is Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), a charming young man who exudes an aura of strange intensity. It is there at the motel that the fate of Marion and her stolen money will be decided, by forces outside her control. The nature of those forces is not truly revealed until the last minutes of the film, in what was an truly outrageous ending for a movie of the 60's.
The performances of the main characters are very good, with special attention being paid to Anthony Perkins. Perkins never got another major role after his turn as the conflicted Norman Bates; his stellar performance in "Psycho" cementing him in audience's minds as a certain kind of character actor. Janet Leigh as Marion Crane acts just as you would expect a desperate and paranoid criminal on the run to. The supporting cast is capable, with the exception of Marion's love interest, Sam Loomis (John Gavin). He comes off as the typical, brutish boyfriend type, a one-note character with little to do other than exist in various stages of outrage.
The camerawork in "Psycho" is exceptional, especially considering the tools available to Hitchcock at the time. The long zoom in to the room where Sam and Marion are meeting is phenomenal for a 60's movie, as is the way Hitchcock stages the infamous "shower scene" that so scared the public. As in the aforementioned classic horror movies, Hitchcock deftly hides his "monster", his "psycho", allowing us only brief glimpses at it to let the tension and suspense to build. Perhaps the ultimate failing of "Psycho" is in its lasts minutes, when the unmasking of the true "psycho" leaves audiences over-saturated with information when they had so long been left in the dark. There is such a thing as "too much information", and the end of "Psycho" suffers for it.
"Psycho" is and will continue to be remembered as the seminal Hitchcockian film, whether it is his best or not (I, for one, find "Rear Window" to be a better film). With the way Hitchcock played the movie-going audience of his time, it is little wonder why this is. As long as people crave an intelligent, suspenseful horror movie as a respite from "Texas Chainsaw Massacre"-style gorefests, "Psycho" can be assured of its firm place in the cinematic cosmos.
Casablanca is one of the most highly-regarded films of all time, by critics and viewers alike. There is something in it for everybody: action, suspense, humor, and romance. Though that may sound like a line ripped from a movie poster, Casablanca deftly balances its time between these varied roles to emerge as one of the most well-rounded films in all of cinema.
The story is simple: Rick runs a café in Morocco, a haven for those oppressed by the Nazi regime in 1940's Europe. "Rick's Café Americain", as it is called, is a refuge for both Americans and those simply down on their luck. One day, Rick's old flame, Ilsa, arrive in Casablanca, her husband in tow. She is not exactly welcomed. As Rick puts it, "of all the gin joints in all the world you had to walk into this one".
Above all, Casablanca is vivid. Though that may seem like an inaccuracy, given that the film is in black and white, there are other ways for vividness to manifest itself than through color.
Monochrome though it may be, the contrast between blacks and whites, between sunlight and shadow in Casablanca is intense. Rick seems trapped in darkness as he stews after hours in his café. Ilsa seems nearly angelic in many scenes, her white face and clothes shining in soft focus.
The film seems itself to sweat. Outdoor shots appear muggy, humid, and uncomfortably warm; many shots seem intentionally blurred, ever so slightly, to give the impression of heat in the air distorting the picture, or perhaps salty sweat obscuring the vision of the camera.
The performances in Casablanca are top-notch. Talented character actors such as Peter Lorre, Sydney Greenstreet (both of "Maltese Falcon" fame) and Claude Rains create convincing and memorable characters, while leading stars such as Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman shine as the main characters, Rick and Ilsa.
Casablanca endures as a pop culture icon, many of its lines achieving catchphrase status. The never-uttered "play it again Sam", Rick's oft-repeated "here's looking at you, kid", and the movie-ending "this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship" are all well-known, and frequently referenced in other works. It endures because though the story may take place in a specific time, the idea of the film is timeless: to sacrifice what you want most for what you know is best. It is the ultimate human ideal, and just as that ideal is held high, so is Casablanca.
The story is simple: Rick runs a café in Morocco, a haven for those oppressed by the Nazi regime in 1940's Europe. "Rick's Café Americain", as it is called, is a refuge for both Americans and those simply down on their luck. One day, Rick's old flame, Ilsa, arrive in Casablanca, her husband in tow. She is not exactly welcomed. As Rick puts it, "of all the gin joints in all the world you had to walk into this one".
Above all, Casablanca is vivid. Though that may seem like an inaccuracy, given that the film is in black and white, there are other ways for vividness to manifest itself than through color.
Monochrome though it may be, the contrast between blacks and whites, between sunlight and shadow in Casablanca is intense. Rick seems trapped in darkness as he stews after hours in his café. Ilsa seems nearly angelic in many scenes, her white face and clothes shining in soft focus.
The film seems itself to sweat. Outdoor shots appear muggy, humid, and uncomfortably warm; many shots seem intentionally blurred, ever so slightly, to give the impression of heat in the air distorting the picture, or perhaps salty sweat obscuring the vision of the camera.
The performances in Casablanca are top-notch. Talented character actors such as Peter Lorre, Sydney Greenstreet (both of "Maltese Falcon" fame) and Claude Rains create convincing and memorable characters, while leading stars such as Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman shine as the main characters, Rick and Ilsa.
Casablanca endures as a pop culture icon, many of its lines achieving catchphrase status. The never-uttered "play it again Sam", Rick's oft-repeated "here's looking at you, kid", and the movie-ending "this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship" are all well-known, and frequently referenced in other works. It endures because though the story may take place in a specific time, the idea of the film is timeless: to sacrifice what you want most for what you know is best. It is the ultimate human ideal, and just as that ideal is held high, so is Casablanca.