Epic Tuesdays

So... what do y'all think of the Narnia movies?

Showing this week:

Some movies are just good, not great, but you can't help but love them because of your perception and your experiences with them. That's what The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe is to me. Quality-wise, I think it's just good enough... but I found it to be a great experience, plus it came out during a very... interesting time of my life, so I have some memories centered around it.

Overall, a good movie. The direction is a somewhat uninspired at times, the music is not as inspired as it could be, the effects seem to be hit-and-miss... but every element hits a few good notes throughout the film, and that is enough for me.

It has kind of a squeaky-clean Disney feel... no surprise, Disney distributed it. But I wish it had a little bit of that LotR-like darkness. The cast is all good; there's no actor who felt out of place to me. Liam Neeson is the perfect voice for Aslan. Tilda Swinton seems appropriately unhinged as Jadis. Little Lucy couldn't be cuter. I really liked Jim Broadbent as the professor—I wish we could have seen more of him. The CGI is pretty good, for the most part, though I thought the fauns and centaurs were very well done. The musical score seems to have a mild case of "I have one good theme and I'm going to use it all the time" syndrome. There are some moments that feel like they've been stolen directly from LotR... that's to be expected, I suppose. After all, the Narnia films would not have been made if not for the success of LotR.

I'm glad that the Christian symbolism is a vital part of the story; it would have been very difficult for Hollywood to remove it without completely changing things.

Guess what's playing this week!








No, you have to guess.









Oh, all right...

Lawrence of Arabia is a lot to process. That's why I'm late in posting my reaction.

It is a great film, of course. Well-made and well-performed. It is renowned for its amazing desert photography and its stirring music, and deservedly so. I'm grateful for the advent of high-definition home entertainment, which makes it possible to watch this film properly. There are some shots in which you wouldn't be able to make anything out otherwise, except large masses of sand and sky. I do eventually get annoyed by all of the day-for-night shots, but I suppose there was no other way to do it.

The performances are all wonderful, especially the triumvirate of Alec Guinness, Omar Sharif and Anthony Quinn. Peter O'Toole is also very good. Some say his performance is over the the top, but I think it's just right.

I do feel a little ambivalence about the story, though, and I think it's because Lawrence is often portrayed in a heroic light, and if you've only seen trailers or certain famous scenes, you can easily be fooled into thinking him heroic. And perhaps the Arabs even considered him heroic. But the T.E. Lawrence of this movie is not a hero. He is intelligent, passionate, bold... but also unbalanced. He doesn't always understand his feelings, but he follows them, even when they lead places he shouldn't go. Good leaders are not always good people, and vice versa.

Showing this week... one of my favorites... and one of those movies where it's okay for men to cry.

Braveheart, to me, is one of those nearly perfect movies. It just works. The script is great, the music is wonderful, and it's shot so well that it's hard to look away from. I love the slow, suspenseful buildups to many of the battle scenes and the heart-achingly lovely montage about two-thirds of the way through the film. And I can't find a weak link in the cast... perhaps Prince Edward... though he is intentionally made to look weak, and his actor does that convincingly. In fact, I find it interesting the way he plays Edward, as a man who would like to have more but doesn't know how to get it, and after a while, seems embittered by that fact.

King Edward “Longshanks” is a bit of a one-note character, merely a cynical, power-hungry old man. Maybe there's a reason for that, and we didn't get a chance to see it. (When you like a film, you tend to assume that there are good answers to all your questions... if you don't like the film, you'll likely consider the unanswered questions as flaws.) Wallace himself doesn't show loads of depth, but enough to make it work.

That brings us to the big question, as far as I'm concerned: Whose story is it? This is something that screenwriters sometimes ask. The story, arguably, belongs to the character who has the most development, the character who has the greatest personal journey. Obviously, Mel Gibson as William Wallace sells the film and propels the plot. But he doesn't develop that much throughout the film. His biggest change by the end of the story is that he's...

Spoiler:

The journey of the film belongs to Robert the Bruce, and I'm sure that's why he provides the opening narration. When he says “I will tell you of William Wallace,” he 's really saying “I will tell you of the most important time in my life, and how it changed me.” The memorable final scene is where we see that change. In many ways, Wallace is a Christ figure, and the Bruce is Peter.

Showing this week... :bounce: 

Gettysburg is a pretty great movie. I sometimes forget that. I sometimes think of it as a cheap mini-series that got clumped into a movie. It's not. It started life as a mini-series, but then it got taken over by Ted Turner and released theatrically. Based on a historical novel... so, it's fictionalized history, but still history.

The budget was around $25 million... nothing to sneeze at, but low for an epic movie. But they got a lot of movie for their money. The filmmakers didn't skimp on story; it's apparently the longest movie ever released by a studio in the US. The director's cut, which I watched, is 4 and a half hours. Long, sure, but easy to get involved in. If you want to feel like you were involved in the Civil War, all you have to do is watch Gettysburg.

The director didn't do anything fancy - his style was simple and solid. Many movies benefit from that approach. Some directors try to do too much. But usually, if the story is well-written, the actors well-cast and the special effects convincing, a simple by-the-book direction will bring it all together just fine. Besides, he had a lot more to concern himself with than camera tricks. He had a small army of re-enactors to coordinate.

There are some very good performances in this movie, especially those of Jeff Daniels as Colonel Chamberlain and Richard Jordan as General Armistead. Those two, along with Chamberlain's brother Thomas, are the most empathetic guys as far as I'm concerned. Lee and Longstreet are interesting to watch as they disagree over tactics, and Pickett steals many of his scenes, as does Sam Elliott as Buford.

It wasn't bad thinking on Lee's part to believe that the center of the Union line would be the weakest, but, unfortunately, the terrain and the resolve of Hancock's forces worked against them. Ultimately, I've found that the American Civil War is the war that interests me the most, at least in the age of firearms. I'll look into becoming a re-enactor... and really, there is no better state for it. Objective fact.

Next in our amazing October lineup...

It is amazing...

There are two movies on the schedule that I would describe as pure poetry, and this is one of them. I haven't seen all of Michael Mann's movies, but I can't imagine that any of them are put together as well as The Last of the Mohicans. The way it's shot is naturally beautiful, with mostly natural light, which explains why some of the night scenes are so dark. Hollywood darkness and real life darkness are two very different things, and Mann made an effort to capture the real kind, which I appreciate.

It's difficult for me to pick this movie apart because everything seems to come together as a seamless whole. It doesn't necessarily fool me into forgetting that I'm watching a movie, but it sucks me in to the extent that I almost care more about the story than about real life. One thing that really helps is the combat; it's top-notch. I appreciate that all the more because Gettysburg, a wonderful film in its own right, often relies on shaky combat, clearly not well-choreographed and performed by non-professional actors. In Mohicans, you feel every blow, and if you look around at the extras, you'll see them going at it as well. Daniel Day-Lewis's legendary commitment to his parts helps a lot too. You will never see him in a part where he's not believable.

I don't like Alice, though. I'm glad most of her part is cut out.

Showing this week:
(And behold one of the greatest trailer songs ever...)

The Two Towers is, I think, the most grounded and the most human of the LotR movies, and I believe it's because it focuses on the people of Rohan. They are the most relatable. Comparatively, the hobbits are just a little too cute and the Gondorians are just a little too proud. The people of Rohan are the working-class average joes of Middle-Earth. Maybe that's why I've always wanted to be one of them.

The Two Towers is the point where LotR gets down and dirty; the grit is palpable. It's dark and, at some points, almost hopeless. It's also the point where I realized, seeing it the first time, that the One Ring wasn't just a disposable MacGuffin. The quest was going all the way, but there was a lot more going on as well... a war. And Peter Jackson knows how to stage this stuff. If you watch the documentaries or listen to the commentaries, you will realize just how much thought went into everything.

And you may even realize that they made changes for good reasons. Helm's Deep is just one chapter in the book, but it is the centerpiece of the film, and a film needs a big setpiece like that to focus on. If the biggest, most intense event of the film happens halfway through, no one will feel like sitting through the rest. And, frankly, Tolkien made a mistake with Faramir. The One Ring was supposed to be the epitome of evil that would corrupt anyone who came near. Yet in the book, Faramir showed little interest in it. Considering that it drove his brother nearly to madness, this does not work. Faramir may have been “the good brother,” the morally upstanding one, but he was still a mere mortal. Jackson and company were right to change Faramir's actions the way they did. It's appropriate and believable. And you know what? He still comes off looking like the more upstanding brother. Successful storytelling all around.

I must remark on the way they began the movie. That opening sequence with the Balrog is simply stunning. And it's great, because it is the second film, to be able to jump right into the action without any explanation. LotR fans don't need recaps; we can GIVE recaps.

Showing this week:



(I don't know why it says 4:24. It's actually 2:18.)

I only just discovered Legends of the Fall last year. I added it to the schedule because I didn't want to have intense, battle-heavy movies every single week. Judging by the trailer, I expected something like a Hallmark movie with an A-list cast. But this movie is much better than any Hallmark movie you'll see... fortunately.

The story sounds rather Hallmark-like at first, though: three brothers fall in love with the same woman, in 1914 Montana. I guess it's all in the execution; this could very easily have been a chick flick. But the story is really about the brothers, especially Tristan, the unstable one. There's a thread of violence that runs through the story, and it's all because of him. The setting, geographically and historically, also makes the film interesting. Those elements should be enough to keep any man interested. I can't speak for other men, but I also enjoy great drama (on the screen, not in real life). And this movie has some great drama.

Sometimes I can't help but wonder if the brothers think Susannah is the only woman in the world. Yes, their home is isolated, but they themselves are not always so. Alfred in particular should have been able to find another woman to pine for. (And why did Julia Ormond keep getting cast in roles where men were fighting over her?)

Legends of the Fall was only nominated for 3 Oscars, all in technical categories, but I think it could have contended for more. Brad Pitt's performance is pretty good. I'm impressed by Anthony Hopkins' work in the second half of the film. The direction and score were very good. And whoever did Brad's hair certainly deserves some kind of award.

As I said in weeks past, there are some similarities between this film and Far and Away, but this one is more portentous and angsty. Some people think that art must be angsty, but I don't believe that's the case. Some of the greatest movies ever made have been light-hearted. This one certainly isn't, but it is a good addition to Epic Tuesdays.

Showing this week:

(Don't watch the shorter theatrical version. Watch the 3-hour Director's Cut. It makes more sense.)

“A King may move a man, a father may claim a son, but remember that even when those who move you be Kings, or men of power, your soul is in your keeping alone. When you stand before God, you cannot say, "But I was told by others to do thus." Or that, "Virtue was not convenient at the time." This will not suffice. Remember that.” - King Baldwin IV, Kingdom of Heaven.

The director's cut of Kingdom of Heaven is almost as good as Gladiator, another Ridley Scott film, one that won an Oscar for Best Picture. The director's cut is the way KoH was meant to be, but the studio didn't think people would want to see a 3-hour movie about the Crusades. They demanded an hour be cut out, which naturally meant that a lot of story was lost. I haven't seen the theatrical version, but I believe people who say that it's a vastly inferior movie.

Like Gladiator, it's got some intense violence and some great imagery. It's also full of religious rhetoric, like the quote above. And I must say, for a major Hollywood film, it's not completely off-track. One character says “There's a lot done in Christendom of which Christ would be incapable.” And there is a wise character played by David Thewlis who may in fact be an angel, or even God in human form. Several times, the crusaders shout “God wills it!” as they set out to do something driven by their own ambition or bloodlust. And they believe that because they are a Christian army, they cannot be defeated. The hypocrisy of many Christians is laid bare, as one might expect, but there is also an undercurrent of faith. Writer William Monahan does provide some deep thoughts, which is another good reason to watch.

Kingdom of Heaven is also one of the more historically accurate movies you will find. It's fictionalized, of course, like any movie. But the major characters did exist in some form and many of the events happened in ways similar to the way depicted on screen. And Balian did speed-knight many of the citizens of Jerusalem. Muslims should be happy at their depiction on-screen; it's very fair. I think it may be too fair.

Spoiler:

I suspect this was changed to make the Muslims look better, and I don't see why that's necessary. Truth is truth. What one Muslim did a thousand years ago doesn't affect my view of them now. Oh well. Politics.

I've said before, some movies are important to you not because of their quality, but because of your experience with them. That's why I feel an attachment to the first Narnia movie. The second one, Prince Caspian, I don't really have an attachment to. But it's a solid, enjoyable fantasy film, and of course it's based on the work of CS Lewis. And the Narnia movies just look and sound great on blu-ray.

Narnia was a world where “Sons of Adam” and “Daughters of Eve” were meant to rule, aided by their relationship with Aslan, the Christ-figure. The world was filled with talking animals, fantastical creatures like fauns and minotaurs, and even trees that could move on their own and communicate. Of course, Aslan and the humans ruled over them all. That was in the first installment. In Prince Caspian, Narnia is the world after the fall. Another group of humans has invaded and... “tamed” the place, they would probably say. Though they have effectively ruined the place. They fought the native Narnians into submission. The animals have become wild. The trees have become inanimate objects. Thus, Narnia is now not much different from Earth.

This corresponds to CS Lewis's take on Earth before and after the Fall, which he described in The Problem of Pain. Man is meant to have dominion over all the creatures on the earth, and Lewis believed that, before the Fall, all animals would completely obey man. I believe he said that man would also have control over the environment and even the workings of his own body. This all changed when man disobeyed God. Since we couldn't follow God's law, He made us subject to a lower law: nature. Now, weather may destroy us. Animals may devour us. Diseases may debilitate us. But the residents of Narnia still have Aslan, if they seek him. Just like we have God.

Anyway... where was I? The movie I would give a solid B. The direction is fine, a little more slick than last time. Some aspects of the film feel like a retread of the first, though... particularly during the final battle. I wish Harry Gregson-Williams would take a hint from Howard Shore and actually develop some of his themes; the Pevensie children are growing and maturing, Narnia is changing... why not let the music evolve as well?

Showing this week:



Sorry, things have been hectic and I've gotten behind.

Here's a little trailer I made to express my excitement for Epic Tuesdays. I encourage you to switch the quality to 720p, turn on full screen and turn up the volume (it's just music).

There are two Epic Tuesday films that I would describe as “pure poetry.” The first is The Last of the Mohicans. The second is The New World. This one, the latter, is even more poetic than the first. In fact, it has been described, aptly, as a tone poem. The main characters speak their thoughts and feelings in a poetic manner throughout the film in voice-over... and it is beautiful. I don't know if all Terrence Malick films are like this... but I hope so.

The New World is a generally truthful version of the Pocahontas story, and director Malick made the physical production as accurate as possible. It is also, naturally, a story of the founding of Jamestown, Virginia, the first permanent English colony in the US. It wasn't easy for the colonists, especially during the first winter of 1607. The film presents a scenario that may have been the first Thanksgiving: Pocahontas and members of her tribe bringing much-needed food to the desperate people of Fort Jamestown. There is evidence that this happened in real life. Of course, the true origin of American Thanksgiving is disputed.

Historical accuracy aside, the film is shot in a very naturalistic style and edited without strict regard for narrative continuity. I imagine all of Malick's films are like this. It's not everyone's cup of tea. It's closer to expressionism than a lot of popular films, expressionism being a style that draws more attention (in varying degrees) to the means of production, specifically through the editing in this case. Typically, a smoother, more continuous editing style draws the viewer in and helps them to forget that they're watching a movie. That may not be necessary, though, because The New World drew in this viewer just fine. There are, of course, people who find the editing “sloppy” and “amateurish.” My response would be, “Maybe you'd be happier watching Transformers again.”

This is also a more character-oriented movie than most people are probably used to, rather than plot-driven. It's a refreshing change from many of the epic movies on my list. There's no quest, no crusade, no coveted MacGuffin to obtain. It's mostly a journey of self-discovery. The three main characters all seem to undergo a personal journey, but Pocahontas most of all. I find it interesting that Smith mentions his desire for a “fresh start” near the beginning of the film, and then again toward the middle. How many fresh starts does one need? Is he, like so many others, finding that his objects of desire, once obtained, do not fulfill him? Some people, I'm sure, find fulfillment only in seeking. Others, like Rolfe, are content to settle down. The story of these three main characters does seem to say something about relationships, but I won't beat that dead horse here.

Gladiator is an important movie. Why? Because it's one of the manliest epic movies ever made, that's why. If you're ever trying to sound macho or brave, a quote from Gladiator will always do. Try it: “Strength and honor.” “Unleash hell.” “What we do in life echoes in eternity!” And so on. Then just listen to “The Battle” by Hans Zimmer, and if the testosterone is not flowing within you, then... you're probably a woman.

This is Ridley Scott's greatest work, in my opinion. It is his only film to win the Oscar for Best Picture, after all. The script, director, and actors all came together perfectly. You could call it an action movie if you really wanted to... but there is a lot of drama, tragedy, and political intrigue filling the spaces between the battles. Maybe it reminded all those geezers in the Academy of a love child between Ben-Hur and Spartacus.

Scott's direction, as usual, is strong and earthy. He is one of those directors, along with Peter Jackson, who has a strong enough visual style to make medieval or fantasy films look convincing. Others have tried, without as much success. The fight scenes are a little weak, but at least the excitement is built up enough to compensate. The script is very quotable and it navigates the world of ancient Rome well, avoiding massive cliches for the most part. The aspect of Maximus's family and the afterlife was added relatively late in the writing process, and I think that's what really makes the story relatable.

Russell Crowe may have been a nightmare on set, but he turned in a great performance. And there are two wonderful, very different old guys in this movie who deserve mentions: Richard Harris and Oliver Reed, both of whom were dead within two years of Gladiator's release. Harris seemed to be a natural as a wise and gentle leader; he commanded attention even with his raspy whispers. (Off-topic, but just hearing his voice in my head saying “Love, Harry” makes me tear up a little.) Reed, as Proximo, is simply a pleasure to watch. I love his colorful metaphors. And if you know what he was like in real life, you realize how perfectly suited he was for that character. It's no surprise, then, that he died during the filming of Gladiator from a heart attack after a massive drinking binge. Most of his role had been shot, and the rest was completed with a body double and creative editing. During my last few viewings of this film, I have been able to spot the tricks used to complete his performance... I doubt the casual viewer would notice them. They did a pretty good job.

Overall, I love the forcefulness of Gladiator. It's one of those films that takes you on a ride, and yet it does so while presenting an accurate view of ancient Rome, populated by master thespians. It doesn't pull its punches; people die, sometimes good people, and often unnecessarily. It's not a true story, but there is truth in it, if you take my meaning.

Put on your big boy (or girl) pants! Next we watch Return of the King extended!

There's a word I would like to invoke here... sublime. It's a word that is often misunderstood. One of my English professors at Penn State impressed upon me the idea that sublimeness is achieved when something is simultaneously beautiful and terrifying. Perhaps “awe” is what we get when we combine those things. Or perhaps it's something more. Regardless, this quality shows up at times in many of the Epic Tuesday movies... I feel it in the final charge of The Last Samurai, in the carnage at Stirling in Braveheart, the proud defiance of Picket's Charge in Gettysburg, the moutainside climax of The Last of the Mohicans, Pocahontas's grief in The New World... but to me, sublimeness is almost a constant in The Return of the King.



There's an apocalyptic feel to this chapter that's not present in the first two... not that it should be. This is the end, and it feels like it. There's a palpable sense of charging toward certain doom... because it's coming anyway, and one might as well make a last stand. Despite some initial success, the War of the Ring seems hopeless for the free peoples of Middle-Earth. Sauron has seemingly endless armies of orcs, sympathizers from barbaric southern lands, and above all else he has the power to inspire fear in all of his enemies. The noble beauty of Middle-Earth meets the dark terror of Sauron. Sublime.



There are good reasons why The Lord of the Rings is considered a Christian work by many. Consider that the enemy turns people against each other (listen closely and you'll hear laughter after Smeagol has strangled Deagol). Consider the fact that an innocent hero must bear the weight of all the evil in the world so he can destroy it. Consider that evil and selfishness ends up serving the purpose of good... just as it does for those who love God. When the end times come, it may not look like this, but I expect it'll feel a lot like this.



“Too few have come. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor.”
“No... we cannot. But we will meet them in battle nonetheless.”

“I didn't think it would end this way.”
“End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path... one that we all must take.”

“I'm glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee... here at the end of all things.”



Throughout 2003, the big question was: Will Peter Jackson stick the landing? Will he end his trilogy as well as he started it? The answer was, obviously, a solid yes. So well, in fact, that Entertainment Weekly declared, with no doubt, that he would win the Best Director Oscar. Considering how little respect sci-fi and fantasy films are given by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences, that was quite a statement. I remember that Oscar night, and RotK sweeping all of its categories. I still think, though, that someone in the cast should have gotten an acting award... Ian McKellen or Sean Astin or Elijah Wood. Still, I suppose the thing to remember is that it's never been easy to pull off a trilogy. Peter Jackson made it look easy... perhaps filming all three parts at once had something to do with it.



To me, The Return of the King is not just epic... it's monumental. It takes me places no other movie has taken me... from the depths of terror and despair to the adrenaline thrills of heroism and victory to the quiet satiation of a hard-won peace. Coming through the brink of certain death and destruction changes everything.