Alex Massie and Radley Balko remind me that John Wayne died 30 years ago today.

I recall it well, having just recently returned to the States from Germany and waiting to start 8th grade in El Paso.  I’ve seen most of his movies since and become a bigger fan.

Someone (Robert Prather, perhaps) shared via Google Reader a superb tribute by Roger Ebert published earlier this week in the Chicago Tribune.  I recommend it highly.

Alex lists his five favorite Duke movies, and they’re all good.  “Rio Bravo” and “Horse Soldiers” are two of my favorites as well.  I like Wayne in his later years, where his humor was more integral to his roles.  My all-time favorites are “Big Jake,” “The Commancheros,” “El Dorado,” “Chisum,” and “Rooster Cogburn.” The last, a reprise of his Oscar-winning role in “True Grit,” was a more enjoyable movie.

Of his non-Westerns, “The Quiet Man” is easily my favorite.  The WWII flicks “In Harm’s Way” and “They Were Expendable” were also quite superb.

The trailer from “Big Jake” is below.

What are your favorites?

Big Hollywood’s Leo Grin has an excellent analysis of the classic Howard Hawks film Rio Bravo,  which was made 50 years ago. A generous excerpt:

Characters are the most important elements of any Hawks movie. By 1958 he had concluded that “audiences were getting tired of plots….But if you keep them from knowing what the plot is you have a chance of holding their interest…It’s when a character believes in something that a situation happens, not because you write it to happen.” Hawks had an unparalleled flair for consciously using detail to expertly reveal character. All throughout the production of Rio Bravo, he would sit silently as the actors rehearsed their scenes, ever on the lookout for ways to organically grow their motivations cinematically, thereby creating deep wells of subtext without clubbing the audience over the head with a screaming, obvious M-E-S-S-A-G-E.

[...]

Most crucially, it was director Hawks who crafted John Wayne’s character into a master not only of action but of reaction, in the process establishing an overriding feeling of camaraderie that makes the film endlessly rewatchable. “John Wayne represents more force, more power than anyone else on screen,” Hawks claimed, and yet by dint of directorial will the star of Rio Bravo becomes everyone else’s straight man. During the course of the plot the Duke gets socked by Dean Martin (twice!), is verbally out-dueled by the precocious Ricky Nelson, suffers the outrageous behavior of Walter Brennan, is relentlessly teased by the ever-flirtatious Angie Dickinson, and is continuously rescued by all of the above. “You give everybody else the fireworks,” Wayne grumbled to Hawks at one point, “but I have to carry the damn thing.”

And yet Hawks knew that, with a universe of talents at his disposal, Wayne’s secret weapon was always his generosity and humility as an actor, his penchant for binding himself and his ego to the needs of a picture. He was unparalleled in his ability to lend his potent movie-star glow to others in a scene, holding up the entire business like a grizzled, enduring Atlas. For Rio Bravo, the breakthrough came during one of Dean Martin’s many set-pieces, while Wayne was standing aside and watching glumly as Martin got to once again chew up the scenery with his performance. “What do I do while he’s playing all of these good scenes?” he finally asked Hawks in frustration.

“Well,” Hawks replied, “you look at him as a friend.”

Suddenly everything Hawks had been striving for, the entire emotional spectrum he was meticulously constructing, became clear. And throughout the finished Rio Bravo, you can go to any point and see the spectacular results of Wayne embracing Hawks’ perceptive direction. Watch, for instance, the scene after Walter Brennan’s character Stumpy has almost killed Dean Martin by carelessly shooting at him through the jailhouse door. Wayne stands by as Brennan, one of the all-time great scene-stealing character actors, goes through an entire blabbering monologue of words and emotions that covers denial, mortification, and finally a resigned acceptance of responsibility. It’s all great stuff, hugely entertaining — but look closely at Wayne. Not a word spoken, not a single word. And yet his pitch-perfect reactions to each of Brennan’s lines gives the scene its touching pathos and power.

Wayne spends virtually the entire film loaning his star power to others in this fashion, not acting so much as reacting, and using those reactions to give his co-stars a much brighter spotlight in which to shine. Indisputably, we have Howard Hawks to thank for that.

Much, much more at the link.

Randy Barnett says the flick “was never one of my favorite westerns” but will give it another go after Grin’s review. It’s long been one of my favorite Wayne flicks precisely because of the great character interaction described above, featuring the superb repartee that was a hallmark of most of the Duke’s best movies.  Similarly, the best of the genre, and certainly “Rio Bravo” was an archetype, very much had a M-E-S-S-A-G-E but it was conveyed through the protagonist’s deeds rather than a lot of speechifying.

John Wayne vehicles were seldom realistic and often corny by today’s more cynical standards.  But they were incredibly entertaining and uplifting.  I recently saw the new “Star Trek” movie and found it much the same.  After years of that franchise leaving its “space opera” roots for more preachy plots, it was great to see the focus returned to daring heroism and the interaction between friends whose bonds have been forged through shared trials.

UPDATE: See my July 2003 post, “High Noon for U.S. Army,” for a more detailed discussion of Rio Bravo as Hawks’ and Wayne’s angry counterpoint to the Gary Cooper classic High Noon. Grin’s essay also discusses that angle.

“[W]orrying about acting in a film like this is like worrying about fat in a double cheeseburger: It misses the whole point.” – Peter Suderman, reviewing the umpteenth installment in the “Fast and Furious” franchise for NRO

Dave Schuler has an amusing — and yet insightful — view of what the Obama administration will look like as seen through the lens of classic movies.

Review: ‘The Kingdom’

Watching the trailers for ‘The Kingdom’ over the past several months, I was curious about how the film would portray Saudi Arabia and Saudis. I had personal experience with terrorist bombings of residential compounds in Riyadh and wanted to see how accurate the film might be.

The film could have taken the low and easy road, pandering to stereotypes, and shown the Saudis as slavering jihadists looking forward to killing the infidel. It could have taken (and did to a very minor extent did) the path of ‘Syriana’ [see my review here and Amir Taheri's here], claiming on the basis of old and mistaken stereotypes that the oil companies write the rules.

Instead, I was pleased to see that the film showed that while there are bad Saudis, there are also good and decent Saudis who care about their country, their religion, and justice.

The film carries a very strong sense of authenticity. The researchers did their homework when it came to finding the right imagery to convey the sense of time and place. Much of it was shot in Abu Dhabi, with some B-roll materials from Riyadh spliced in. The rest was filmed in ‘non-denominational’ deserts in the American Southwest and in DC. The film was mostly realistic, too, when it came to the bombings, but not quite the same as the compounds bombed in 2003. The film spares us the body parts. That was fine by me, as I found myself slipping back to the reality of May 2003.

The film was accurate in its portrayal of a sharp-elbowed FBI investigation team running headlong into the reluctant Saudi police, a reaction not unknown to American local police departments and itself the subject matter of other films.

The film gets off to an iffy start, I think. The collage over which the opening credits run provides a brief and mostly accurate history of Saudi Arabia and its relations with the US. I think it focuses inaccurately on oil. While oil is certainly an important aspect of the US-Saudi relation, it is neither the sole one nor necessarily the most important one. Here, though the film feeds the meme that it’s ‘all about oil’, viewers needn’t worry about it. After the credits, the word never comes up again.

In order to avoid spoilers, the rest of the review is below the fold. I haven’t compromised major plot development, but some of the early set-up is discussed. You can also find a lengthier review at Crossroad Arabia, focusing more on the film v. reality clash.

‘The Kingdom’ works from a dated template. The ‘rules’ about how the US government and its agencies respond to an overseas bombing had chanced by 2003. What the film shows is based on rules that applied in 1996 and 1998. In reality, as soon as they could fly in—the next day—a team of about 35 FBI investigators were in Riyadh. These were a specialized group, designed to investigate bombings. They were professional. They did not (at least publicly) carry weapons. The women on the team—and there were several—knew better than to wear form-fitting T-shirts as their outerwear. They were also prepared to work cooperatively with their Saudi counterparts, whether from the police, Saudi Arabian National Guard (one of the 2003 compounds housed American and others on contract to the National Guard), and the Ministry of Interior. The Saudis, post-9/11, were also prepared to cooperate.

Probably the least accurate part of the film was its portrayal of the US State Department and its officers. Nothing new here: they’re tediously shown as ‘cookie-pushers’ who have yet to evolve backbones. That’s the standard stereotype, particularly from the political right, but it’s far from the reality. I won’t speak for all State officers; some actually are wimps. That’s not the case for most of them, though, as many do live brave lives.

By 2003, and therefore the unstated time of the film, new protocols had been established between the FBI and State. State would work to ensure FBI access to sites, evidence, and suspects. Investigative teams would be of a manageable size and the agents would not bear arms unless specifically authorized to do so because of particular circumstances. The teams work under the leadership of the FBI’s Legal Attaché and under the authority of the Ambassador. The LEGATTs, as they are called, know the territory and just what they can and cannot do. The film wanders into a bit of fantasy as its FBI team breaks command structures and simply shows up in Riyadh without Department of Justice authorization. A move like this would have led to instant firing. Nor could their plane have entered Saudi airspace without clearance from the Saudi government, through the US Embassy.

All in all, though, this is a good film. It’s not the very best action film you’ve ever seen and some of the intended laughs fall flat. There’s lots of shooting and explosions, running around and fast car chases. But there’re also occasions in which the viewer is asked to think about the fact that it’s not only the victims who are human, but those who try to do their jobs in the midst of confusion, emotional turmoil, and the threat of further deadly attacks. Here, the film shines.

This part of the story is carried by excellent acting by the principal actors: Jamie Foxx, heading the FBI’s team, and Ashraf Barhom, leading the Saudi police effort. Both show the awkwardness in dealing with complete strangers, fighting against the stereotypes they carry in their own minds. Jason Bateman and Ali Suliman have perhaps the most subtle performances as, respectively, an FBI agent who learns that ‘kick ass’ is not always the best procedure, and a Saudi police sergeant who puts duty to his country above all else. I think Chris Cooper isn’t asked to do much and I guess Jennifer Garner is there because the producers thought they needed some sort of female presence. She adds nothing.

If you’re looking for a film that bashes Saudis or the Administration, this isn’t the film for you. If instead you want a film that accurately portrays the complexity of US-Saudi relations at both official and personal levels, a film that shows how Saudi society itself is trying to come to terms with terrorism, then you don’t want to miss it.

Jonathan Last echoes a criticism I’ve seen of the final installment of the Bourne movie trilogy but articulates it better than others:

The structural problem was the rampant anti-Americanism. I hate being predictable, but here goes: I get that the Bourne movies are anti-imperial; I get that the U.S. government is doing shady stuff at Langley and that Treadstone is a scary program; but the first two movie handled these worldviews with some real artfulness. Ultimatum has none of that. We’ve got Noah Vosen running around New York shouting for assets and agents–even analysts–to kill, kill, kill–Bourne, journalists, other CIA officers, whoever. He does all of this with the goal not of protecting national security or even his bureaucratic turf, but simply, as he puts it, “to win.” Win what? Oh, I get it, that’s the point. What a silly imperialist I am.

In the course of trying to win for no reason, the CIA kills people with black bags over their heads and uses bombs to blow up cars in the street. Any of this sound familiar? At all? Like from the recent past? There’s something peculiar about a culture which, faced with a terrible enemy, makes movies depicting the enemy’s wretched crimes, but ascribing that behavior instead to their native land.

I haven’t seen this movie yet but plan to do so. My wife and I enjoyed the first two installments very much and own them on DVD. But I’m with Last here: ham handed anti-Americanism in American pop culture is quite bizarre.

The CIA run amok is a stock plot device, really, and is arguably more anti-Big Government than anti-American. But the easy moral equivalency between the United States and our enemies is beyond banal; it’s insulting and dispiriting.

Matthew Yglesias seeks to justify his “reputation in the blogosphere as a leading Michael Bay apologist” by providing a video of a Levis spot whereby readers might “truly glimpse the man’s skillz.” The commercial is rather entertaining.

Then again, I’m not sure where the near-consensus among movie critics that Michael Bay makes terrible moves comes from. For example, a profile in the most recent Details observes,

You most likely already have strong opinions about Bay, and not the good kind. People who care about culture and quality brand Bay and his oeuvre as shamefully, offensively hollow. It doesn’t matter that he owns a private jet, that he dates Playboy Playmates, that he lives bigger and badder than you ever will—he is Carrot Top with a megaphone.

Yet, of the handful of his movies I’ve seen, the only one I didn’t like at all was “Pearl Harbor.” I haven’t seen any of his various horror flicks, but then that’s not a genre I tend to enjoy. Nor have I seen “Playboy Video Centerfold: Kerri Kendall (One woman’s erotic, imaginative adventure)” but, really, how bad could it be?

“The Rock” was fun even if the plot was rather far-fetched. “Bad Boys” was funny; “Bad Boys II,” meanwhile, looked so obviously bad that I never bothered to see it. And I’m apparently the only one who liked “Armageddon,” which even star Bruce Willis routinely mocks.

Sure, none of them are exactly Shakespeare. And they’re not likely to have the long term cultural impact of “Star Wars,” “Indiana Jones,” or “Rocky.” But so what?

Bay doesn’t pretend he’s making art; he’s just making entertaining movies people want to see. Judging by the results, he’s succeeding.

After surgery for cancer of the salivary gland that removed part of his jaw, operations to replace his mandible, and complications from unanticipated bleeding, film critic Roger Ebert “ain’t a pretty boy no more”:

I have been very sick, am getting better and this is how it looks. I still have my brain and my typing fingers.

Although months in bed after the bleeding episodes caused a lack of strength and coordination, the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago restored my ability to walk on my own, climb stairs, etc.

I no longer use a walker much and the wheelchair is more for occasional speed and comfort than need. Just today we went for a long stroll in Lincoln Park.

We spend too much time hiding illness. There is an assumption that I must always look the same. I hope to look better than I look now. But I’m not going to miss my festival.

Damn straight. Keep thinking, writing, loving the movies, and helping us to do the same.

Given that it is Saturday night, let’s set aside any more serious discussions and ponder the idiocy that is the political machinations of the Jedi Knights.

As I mentioned at my place earlier today, my two oldest boys are sick and so we took advantage of Cinemax’s Star Wars marathon. Hence, I have had my memory of Episodes I-III refreshed today. All it did was remind me how poorly plotted and poorly written those episodes were.

Here are Some general observations about the stupidity of the Jedi Knights, all of which makes you wonder how in the world that they were able to keep peace in justice in the Old Republic for as long as they did.

So, you are trying to hide he who might be the only hope for the return of Jedi Knights and you let him keep his actual last name and hide him on the planet of his father’s birth with his father’s step-brother?

Yep, that there is strategery.

Of course, Obi-wan isn’t exactly a genius in hiding his own bad self: he wears the same clothes that he did back when he was training Anakin and he adopts the clever alias of “Ben” Kenobi. Certainly that will help keep the Sith confused.

While they did think to change Leia’s last name, was it the smartest move to hide her in the home of a Senator? And what was Bail Organa thinking, letting her become a Senator herself so that she can cavort with Vader himself?

Of course, the Jedi were the guys who took possession of and used an army of clone warriors whose origins were questionable.

Mace Windu was a real brainiac as well. Faced with evidence that Palpatine is a Sith Lord he chooses to confront him by himself. Yup, that’s smart. (Correction: he did take, as has been pointed out, a couple of Jedi with him. Still, I question the wisdom of the move–dealing with a Sith Lord has “Powell Doctrine” written all over it).

Yoda doesn’t comport himself too well either. With the fate of the Republic hanging in the balance he decides to go into exile and allow the Sith to take control after he almost beat Sidious? Brilliant.

Why not muster his forces and take out the Sith before they can take over?

Of course, the honest to gosh truth is that much of the setup in the episodes I-III makes little sense.

The Sith themselves aren’t all that impressive: they never figure out who Leia is until Luke let’s it slight in Jedi. And Vader seems remarkably nonchalant about the fact that Leia dumps the droids on the planet of his birth.

My wife and I went to the 10:00 p.m. showing of “Superman Returns” last night. No real spoilers below for any who have seen any of the pre-release publicity but my review is hidden after the jump just in case.

Overall, it was an enjoyable movie but not one that lived up to the hype, let alone an eighteen year wait. It wasn’t nearly as good as most of the other superhero movies that have come out over the last few years.

Bryan Singer is an excellent director but his X-Men films were far superior to this one. The special effects were excellent, especially compared to the Christopher Reeve “Superman” films, but nothing special in comparison to the X-Men, Spiderman, and Fantastic Four movies. The plot moved very slowly, with long setups for a rather mundane story.

The premise of the movie is that our hero departed five years earlier to explore Krypton after its remains were discovered by astronomers. Yet, all we learn of that trip is that the planet was “a graveyard.” Why, then, was he gone five years? One would think a man who can fly at light speed could have explored a barren planet and returned home in time for dinner. No explanation is offered.

The Fortress of Solitude as crystals from Krypton angle, one of the most annoying aspects of the Reeve “Superman” series given its departure from the comics (although since woven into the two television adaptations) is central to the plot of this film. That the crystals can be easily removed by human hands and dumped into water — “like sea monkeys!” — with literally Earth shattering effect struck me as highly implausible. And Luthor’s motivations for a plan that would kill “billions,” including destroying the wealth of the Eastern Seaboard of the United States, were at best puzzling. How, exactly, he hoped to get rich with those people gone, especially living out on a barren Kryptonian-technology-laden island, was unexplained.

Singer is obviously a comic book fan and there were numerous clever homages to the genre throughout the movie. Not only did Brandon Routh look eerily like Reeve, especially in his Clark Kent guise–down to a 1970s haircut and outdated three piece suit and tie–but he worked in most of the standard cliches and even evoked the cover of Action Comics #1, where Superman made his debut.

Routh did a creditable turn as Superman and Clark Kent, although nothing spectacular. For my tastes, Reeve’s was the best “Superman” portrayal and Dean Cain’s (”Lois and Clark”) the best “Clark Kent.” (Tom Welling’s “Smallville” version is also compelling but a radical departure from the canon.)

Kate Bosworth was an excellent Lois Lane, portraying the role more powerfully than Margot Kidder. Mostly, I suspect, this is just a function of it being 2006, where a strong professional woman can be played effortlessly, vice 1978, where one had to introduce a campy “women’s libber” angle. She’s also, frankly, much better looking than Kidder, although perhaps no Teri Hatcher.

Kevin Spacey stole the show with his variation on Lex Luthor. His interpretation is much more theatrical than past versions, borrowing somewhat from Jack Nicholson’s Joker. He had several great lines and pulled off the role superbly. It’s been too long since I’ve seen the Gene Hackman version to compare them. It seems clear, though, that the Luthor role is the premier one in the Superman stable. Michael Rosenbaum’s portrayal in “Smallville” is probably my favorite, just in terms of showing the man’s brilliance and complexity, but it’s not fair to compare a 2-1/2 hour film with an episodic format.

Parker Posey was also quite funny in her portrayal of Kitty Kowalski, Luthor’s nitwit girl Friday. Like Valerie Perrine in the Reeve movies, though, one wondered why Luthor would consort with such an obviously stupid woman. Indeed, more so given Perrine’s rather obvious compensating qualities.

Overall, I’d say the movie is worth seeing in the theater but certainly not worth camping out overnight for. It’s a cultural event moreso than an ordinary movie, just because of the character’s staying power–now going on 70 years. If this were the debut of Superman, though, I don’t think he would catch on.