#92: Johnny Guitar (Ray, 1954)

Down there I sell whiskey and cards. All you can buy up these stairs is a bullet in the head. Now which do you want?

Having seen this film on DVD and a restored 35mm print, I’ve come to the conclusion that in order to experience the full effect of Ray’s vision is to watch it on the big screen. Either that or someone needs to release a better version of it on DVD since the current version that is out now simply does not do the film justice. Taking full advantage of CinemaScope with a tapestry of elaborate color schemes that seem almost irreverently crude, Ray is able to maximize the amount of space in the frame; his sets are cluttered and pervasively cumbersome. He has a tendency to shoot many scenes where a large group of people fill up the screen. The outdoor scenes are overly bright and expansive.

Joan Crawford’s Vienna in Nicholas Ray’s incendiary Western is one of domineering strength and unbridled determination. She is one of the rare female heroines of the genre that isn’t a harlot or controlled by male ascendancy. The swapping of gender-roles makes for a much more complex and introspective character study opposed to the standard archetypal characterizations adopted by the genre. It’s refreshing to finally come across a female protagonist in a Western with nerve and independence capable of making the rules. Taken at face value, it is an entertaining little Western that masquerades as cautionary tale towards industrialization laced with gunslingers, outlaws, bursts of violence and romance. This is only scratching the surface since what makes the film so fascinating is its evocative portrayal of femininity and its rebel spirit permeating just below the surface. More importantly, the film has a hidden political agenda and is actually a scathing assault on McCarthyism with particular emphasis on the importance of democracy. The local town authorities have become highly suspicious of a group of so-called “troublemakers” and are ruthless in pinpointing the blame on them for a supposed bank-car robbery.

Vienna owns a saloon, hoping to cash in when the railroad comes through. This is much to the disapproval of the local authorities led by a mean-spirited Sheriff and a malicious woman named Emma (Mercedes MacCambridge) who has a personal vendetta against Vienna that is far more complex than the film initially alludes to making for a fascinating character study of the two women. Vienna also happens to be friends with Dancing Kid and his posse who frequent her saloon. Since this group of individuals fails to conform to the established principles upheld by this community, it seems a safe bet according to the authorities to use them as a scapegoat. Enter Johnny Guitar (Sterling Hayden) who comes to town hired by Vienna to work in her saloon as a musician. What follows I dare not reveal only that Ray serves up plenty of melodrama as a way of accentuating the sexual politics on display. The title of the film is ironic in the sense that Johnny isn’t the main character of the film at all whose role is to merely highlight Vivian’s sexual control. The final showdown is unique in that it is between two dominant bad-ass women (Vienna vs. Emma) where the men are powerless to intervene – a true cinematic moment for feminists everywhere to rejoice in.

Honorable Mention #1: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Cuaron, 2003)

Harry Potter (Daniel Radclife) gets a little close with Hermione Granger (Emma Watson) in the "Forbidden Forest."

Hold the phone. Why the hell is a Harry Potter film appearing on a top 100 list? Before suggesting that I am clinically insane (which you would probably be partially correct) let me try to explain. This is a very personal list and don’t I expect many to agree with my selections. In order to narrow it down, the re-watchability factor played a significant role and it just so happens that I have seen the Potter films more times than any other film, even Star Wars. I’m not ashamed in expressing my absolutely love for everything Harry Potter. As a rabid fan-boy of J.K. Rowling’s books, it would be dishonest not to include at least one of the of film adaptations especially when the third installment is a visually exceptional film.

Just because I may be overly bias doesn’t mean that the inherent flaws can be ignored. The plot-holes are numerous, a lot of key story-material was cut or rushed over, some technical errors are slightly distracting and the acting is a little rough around the edges (albeit a major improvement over the first two films) but these slight distractions are not enough to overshadow Cuaron’s unique vision of capturing the imaginative wonder of the source material while at the same time, adding his own artistic creativity. To give credit where credit is due, the insipid offerings by Columbus were the most loyal to the books but were so painfully dull. Entertaining as both pictures were, they felt over-stuffed; unable to fully encapsulate Rowling’s universe. Cuaron takes the Potter franchise to a whole new level of artistic achievement that has yet to be equaled by his successors Mike Newell and David Yates.

My hat goes off to Cuaron for not merely doing a page-by-page adaptation and instead focusing on the development of the three characters as they experience the growing pains of adolescence. Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) has to face unspeakable evil in the outside world; that much is obvious. As threatening as his opposing forces may be, Cuaron is much more interested in Harry’s internal struggles as he comes to terms with his past and his identity. Learning from the mistakes of Columbus and building upon the universe which was previously created, Cuaron is able to shift his attention away from just mere spectacle to a more character driven story fleshing out the trio (as all the hip kids call them these days) in the process. Their personalities are becoming more distinct and the close friendship they share becomes even more vital. They are teenagers now going through the motions and discovering their own sexuality. All of the sexual subtle innuendos and phallic imagery Cuaron employs throughout the film seem innocent upon first glance but don’t be deceived. Take the beginning scene for instance, which has Harry practicing magic with his wand under his bed sheets at night. What about Ron’s comment to Neville about “stroking it”? Cuaron really pushes the limits of the PG-rating with this film.

The brooding atmosphere, shadowy camera angles and ominous imagery bring a level of maturity as the story of Harry’s life grows darker. Before returning to his third year of Hogwarts, he nearly gets suspended for taking out his anger on his Aunt Marge with hilarious consequences. There’s also an escaped convict on the loose named Sirius Black (Gary Oldman) who was a close follower of Voldemort and apparently wants his head on a platter. Oh, and don’t forget the cloaked specters known as Dementors who suck the souls out of people. There is such a radical change in the level of growing darkness in comparison to the first two films here and yet, there is still humor to be found. Rowling’s novels always have a great sense of humor no mater how gloomy or chaotic the situation. Order of the Phoenix director David Yates can take a lesson from Cuaron in balancing humor with all the drama and horrors that befall the boy wizard.

Full of sparkling vivid imagery, Cuaron uses images to tell the story and no other film in the series thus far has managed to equal or surpass its visual splendor. It’s about time we got a Harry Potter film that can be considered cinematic. With a vast improvement in CGI over the last few films, he is given the opportunity to flex his creative muscles. Using the Whomping Willow tree to indicate the change in seasons, zooming through the moving gears of the giant clock in the tower or making Harry’s flight on the Hippogriff the most magical scene in the entire series; every frame is just beautifully crafted.

The Prisoner of Azkaban finally delivers as close as we can hope for in a Harry Potter adaptation balancing all the disparate elements in Rowling’s work that makes it so fascinating to read. The wonderfully drawn characters, the intriguing story-line, the humor, the imaginative wonder, the thrilling action, it’s all here. Even though hardcore Potter fans know the story inside out, there are still plenty surprises to be found here too. Let’s just hope WB decides to bring Cuaron back for Deathly Hallows because that is a book which desperately needs his creative talent to give it justice.

#93: Interiors (Allen, 1978)

Made in between Annie Hall and Manhattan, it’s no surprise that Interiors is a profoundly forgotten work by Woody Allen. Rarely is it ever brought up when discussing the director’s best films and while not the most underrated in his oeuvre, it has failed to receive the recognition it deserves. Oscillating between Bergman homage and familiar Allen eccentricities, the end result is a mature piece of filmmaking distinct in itself. Purposefully clinical and sterile with particular emphasis on soft-lighting to create a cold entrapped environment, it’s as if characters from Allen’s macrocosm have been transported directly into a Bergman film. What could have easily become a precarious facsimile of the Swedish director’s craft, Allen is wise enough to intrinsically stay true to his self while offering a paean to his cinematic hero.

Interiors marks Woody Allen’s first venture into “serious mode” where he abandons the witty humor entirely for the sake of intense melodrama. The film itself is relentlessly bleak; almost lifeless at times. The shot compositions and mise-en-scene take on a hollowness quality; the interior settings drained of veracity reflecting the vapidity of their lives and feelings towards one another. Allen frames his shots with a lot of empty space, positioning his actors where they appear to be suppressed by their environment. Gordon Willis’ exquisite cinematography and lighting techniques perfectly contrast Allen’s imperturbable technique especially during the scenes that take place outside of the somber interiors of the beach house in the Hamptons where the film pre-dominantly takes place. The story centers upon a wealthy family consisting of three sisters Renata (Diane Keaton), Joey (Mary Beth Hurt) and Flynn (Kristen Griffith) as they each try to cope with the divorce of their parents who had been married for over 25 years. Eve is the matriarch with the family played by Geraldine Page in a remarkable performance full of despair and overwrought anxiety. With a history of mental illness, the husband’s impetuous decision sets her spiraling into a state of misery where she becomes a nuisance to her daughters and a threat to herself. It’s no coincidence that the bulk of Woody Allen’s oeuvre deals with similar themes and subject matter that Bergman obsessed about during his career such as relationships, artistic integrity, faith, life and of course, death. This film is no different in those regards except it is exclusively unique as anything Allen has ever done because of how austere he is in his methods of displaying such a piercing representation of his characters in crisis.

#94: High Fidelity (Frears, 2000)

Another cut-and-paste of an older review just to keep the ball rolling.

#95: All the Real Girls (Green, 2003)

The first scene is one of startling tenderness and genuine emotion that sets the tone for the entire film. A young man and woman are face to face in the cold airy night exchanging soft delicate words. There is a moment where she asks him, “Why haven’t you ever kissed me before?” He responds plaintively, “I’m scared. Mostly because I don’t want it to be like when I kissed other girls.” She then responds with a gesture, suggesting that he kiss the palm of her hand and that way it wouldn’t be like the other girls. I’ve returned to this film on numerous occasions just to watch this opening scene unfold and each time it completely bowls me over in the way that Green is able to illustrate such transcending compassion between two people with such simplicity where their feelings for each other become fully realized. Of course, this scene wouldn't work without the fantastic performances of Zooey Deschanel and Paul Schneider who absolutely shine in their roles here. They each respectively give their characters nuance and idiosyncrasies; convincingly depicting them as flawed individuals who are vulnerable and desperately seeking for affection.

Few modern film romances released in the last couple years are as sincerely portrayed or tentatively impressionistic than the one found in David Gordon Green’s All the Real Girls. Eschewing the typical Hollywood-esque romance genre conventions, Green is intent on transposing the naive ideals and unreal expectations of love into something with tangential potency. The story itself is overly simplistic: Noel and Paul live in a small rural town in North Carolina full of broken-relationships where honest compassion is scarcely to be found. She is the kid sister of Paul’s best friend who has just returned home from boarding school and he is the local town’s Romeo. They decide to date for a while, break up on account of betrayal and painfully attempt to atone for their discretions (past and present) by getting back together. These are not spoilers of any kind because the actual plot remains secondary to Green’s examination of young love and the disappointments associated with vicariously relying on love to achieve enlightenment. The prospect of love being this all powerful instrument in curing one’s personal afflictions is a common misconception and Green is keen on reinforcing this notion through his young couple’s troublesome relationship.

With awe-inducing cinematography, Green successfully establishes a time and place where the environment plays a significant role in the different character’s behavior and attitudes. That isn’t to say that he is condescending towards these characters, portraying them as uneducated bumpkins. His film is distinctively southern and by capturing the ordinary details of every day life in this small southern community, Green is able to use the setting as a method in creating verisimilitude for his story. At times imperfect especially as the film comes to a close; All the Real Girls sustains a remarkable amount of poetic lyricism throughout and remains a powerful expression of genuine heartfelt intimacy between the lead characters which is all too rare in the majority of romances churned out of Hollywood these days.

#96: Husbands and Wives (Allen, 1992)

Woody Allen has made an illustrious career as a filmmaker tackling the subject of love and relationships from every possible angle but none are as more delicately profound or intimate than Husbands and Wives which would prove to be his final collaboration with Mia Farrow; his wife at the time and recurring star in many of his films starting in the early 80’s. At the time of its release, the film caused a media sensation resulting in many critics accusing Allen of using it as a springboard to attack Farrow. In retrospect, it makes sense that people would ultimately jump to this conclusion because of the striking similarities between the characters they play in the film and their real-life relationship which sadly came to an end shortly after when Allen’s scandalous affair with his adopted step-daughter Soon-Yi Previn surfaced. As is the case with many movie celebrities, their on-screen persona or artistic endeavors tend to be intermingled with their real-life so the question remains: Where does one draw the line in forming a distinction between the two? It’s a tricky business that relies on presumptions rather than effective criticism and is ultimately reductive. It is the opinion of this humble critic that the artist and the art they create are inseparable but should be examined as separate entities. As DH Lawrence famously once said, “Never trust the artist, trust the tale.”

With that statement in mind, viewing Husbands and Wives from an objective standpoint reveals that Allen isn’t so much as revealing personal details of his relationship with Farrow. Instead, he is more interested in exploring the reasons why relationships are so difficult to maintain and the destructive nature of human folly when love is thrown into the equation. By grounding the film in a quasi-documentary style, Allen breaks the barrier between fictional characterizations to reveal something a little more privy to actual life. The anonymous documentary crew is given direct access to interview the various characters with questions pertaining to their relationships with one another. As a creative gesture, Allen does not dispose of the grainy, hand-held camerawork often associated with the genre and continues to use it, capturing even the most private moments between characters – furthermore blurring the line between fiction and truth.

The story centers predominantly around two couples: Gabe (Allen) is a literature professor who is happily married to Judy (Farrow), an art magazine editor. Their best friends are Jack (Sydney Pollack) and Sally (Judy Davis) who come over for drinks one night to announce that they are getting a divorce. This shocking information sets off a chain of events in the relationship between Gabe and Judy where they slowly begin to drift apart as buried feelings along with unfulfilled desires are brought to fruition. What begins as a harmless quarrel of dissatisfaction escalates into a serious problem as they struggle to keep their relationship from falling apart. Jack and Sally are also finding it difficult as divorced middle-aged singles despite creating a façade of happiness with their newfound partners just to spite each other. Gabe starts up a relationship with a bright young female student named Rain (Juliette Lewis) as Farrow forms an attraction with a handsome co-worker named Michael (Liam Neeson). Far from your typical romance of disenchanted lovers, Woody Allen skillfully places his characters in specific romantic relationships that insightfully comments on the complex nature of love and human companionship while at the same time having a sense of humor about it. Who hooks up with who is of minor importance in contrast to Allen’s established thematic framework and search for rational explanations concerning why relationships have to be some complicated and what makes them work. By the end of the film it is clear that he has still yet to find the answer.

#97: Metropolitan (Stillman, 1990)

Stillman is a hermetic director who made three films in the 90’s before disappearing entirely. It’s a shame he decided to call it quits because his debut Metropolitan showcases a budgeoning auteur with a sharp ear for refreshing dialogue where his characters are pre-occupied with philosophical musings or existential thoughts of reality which brings to mind the works of Woody Allen or Richard Linklater. If you happen to be a fan of either director, this is the film for you. However, the difference is that Stillman’s work tends to focus more on socialism and conformity created by a specific milieu -- in this case it happens to be small group of rich college preppies living in Manhattan who as one character refers to as UHB: an acronym for Urban Haute Bourgeoisie. It’s a clever title that is meant to abolish the standard referral of “upper-class” since its meaning is no longer entirely relevant in contemporary society.

The film takes place over the course of the Christmas break for these first year college students who dress as debutantes and attend various social functions. Enter Tom (Chris Eigman), a middle-class Princeton student who rents luxury suits and puts on a pseudo-intellectual guise in order to integrate himself into this elitist niche. As luck should have it, he bumps into an old female classmate named Audrey (Carolyn Farina) at one of these prestigious balls who happens to be part of this rich upper-class (like in the real world, it’s who you know) and introduces him to her select group of friends where he begins to form a friendly relationship with them. Nick (Chris Eigeman) is one of the people that Tom’s takes an instant liking to mostly for his cynical nature and views on the disintegrating bourgeoisie class system. The rest of the story follows Tom’s various escapades among these haughty individuals and his struggle for social acceptance. It’s important to note that Stillman’s film is not to be taken at face value and above all else, is a social satire that takes witty jabs at pretentiousness while also being a meditation on growing up. For a film that is very dialogue heavy, the script exemplifies great writing where irreverent comedy with a social conscience is seamlessly interwoven with intellectual ruminations about life itself. These characters are not exactly likeable but their insecurities, relationships and problems they encounter ring true for those not quite ready to accept adult responsibilities.

It's finally here! Lemonz' Top 100

In the attempt of resurrecting my dead blog I present you dear readers with my arbitrary Top 100 films of all time. Let me clarify that this not a definitive "Greatest Films of all time" list but simply a personal list of specific films that have influenced me as a cinephile and ones that reflect my adoration of cinema. Thanks for reading and comments are always welcome!

Honorable Mention #1: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Cuaron, 2003)
Honorable Mention #2: Ghostbusters (Reitman, 1984)

100. Robin Hood (Reitherman, 1973)
99. Me and You and Everyone We Know (July, 2005)
98. Days of Wine and Roses (Edwards, 1962)
97. Metropolitan (Stillman, 1990)
96. Husbands and Wives (Allen, 1992)
95. All the Real Girls (Green, 2003)
94. High Fidelity (Frears, 2000)
93. Interiors (Allen, 1978)
92. Johnny Guitar (Ray, 1954)
91. Eyes Wide Shut (Kubrick, 1999)