Image by 0fjd125gk87 from Pixabay As someone who enjoys science fiction when done well, I can appreciate various flavors of the genre. Whether it’s mixing sci-fi with horror in the case of films like Ridley Scott’s Alien and Leigh Whannell’s The Invisible Man or more character-driven dramatic approaches as exemplified by Denis Villeneuve’s Blade Runner 2049 and Dune. Then, of course, there’s the black-and-white classics such as Robert Wise’s The Day the Earth Stood Still and Don Siegel’s Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Not to mention some good, old-fashioned fun like the best films of Legendary’s “MonsterVerse” (Side Note: I’m VERY excited for Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire! 😊).
Yet, of all the modern sci-fi classics that people constantly bring up as a reference point for how good science fiction movies can be, there’s one in particular that I simply don’t get. Released 25 years ago today, The Matrix seemingly forever changed cinema in so many ways. Not only was it considered a groundbreaking step forward in CGI effects, it remains a staple of action & fight choreography that significantly increased Western audiences’ interest in Japanese anime. Furthermore, the film grossed over 460 million dollars, won all four Oscars that it was nominated for (Film Editing, Sound, Sound Editing, Visual Effects), and put directors Lana and Lilly Wachowski on the map. The film’s impact cannot be measured only within the film industry, however, as many of its political commentary & philosophical concepts have pierced popular culture to this day. All that being said, I have to ask…why isn’t The Matrix great? [NOTE: This blog contains spoilers for “The Matrix.” You have been warned.] What’s It About Set in a dystopian future, The Matrix tells the story of computer programmer Thomas Anderson (Keanu Reeves) who’s better known by his hacking alias “Neo.” After coming across the phrase “the Matrix” frequently online, Neo is contacted by mysterious superhuman Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss) who sends Anderson on a path to meet with Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne). However, Anderson is pursued by a team led by Agent Smith (Hugo Weaving) and surrenders to them. According to Smith, Morpheus is a terrorist and he requests Anderson’s help in stopping him in exchange for wiping his criminal record. Anderson refuses, forcing Smith to implant a robotic “bug” inside him. Anderson wakes from what he presumes is a nightmare, only to be found by Trinity once again. After Trinity delivers him to Morpheus, Anderson is offered a choice: take the red pill to learn the truth about “the Matrix,” or take the blue pill to forget everything & return to his former life. Upon choosing the red pill, Anderson’s reality distorts. He awakens in, and breaks free from, a liquid-filled pod surrounded by endless pods that contain other humans. After being safely brought aboard Morpheus’ ship, Anderson (henceforth referred to as “Neo”) learns the true history of the early 21st century involving a war between humanity and A.I. machines. When humans prevented the machines from using solar energy, they enslaved humanity before harvesting their bodies as an energy source. To keep their minds pacified, the machines created a simulated reality called “the Matrix” for all humans to exist within. Meanwhile, any free humans took refuge in an underground city called Zion. Morpheus, it is revealed, leads a group of rebel humans to break pacified humans out of “the Matrix” while fending off the Agents: a sentient program designed to eliminate any threat to the system of “the Matrix.” Morpheus believes that Neo is “the One,” a human whom prophecy claims will free all of humanity from “the Matrix.” Thus, Neo engages in virtual combat training and visits a prophet-like figure called “the Oracle” (Gloria Foster) in an effort to aid Morpheus’ efforts while questioning if the prophecy is correct about him. While visiting the Oracle in “the Matrix,” a disgruntled member of Morpheus’ crew Cypher (Joe Pantoliano) tips off the Agents to Neo’s whereabouts. Morpheus fights off Agent Smith but is captured, while Cypher leaves “the Matrix” to kill off the rest of Morpheus’ crew. Neo and Trinity, however, are saved by sole surviving crew member Tank (Marcus Chong). Meanwhile, Agent Smith interrogates Morpheus for the access codes to the mainframe computer in Zion with the desire to destroy it. Neo, with Trinity’s help, re-enters “the Matrix” and saves Morpheus with his newly developed superhuman abilities. Neo is seemingly killed by Agent Smith, but Trinity confesses her love for Neo (thus fulfilling the Oracle’s prophecy for her) which revives Neo and grants him the power to control “the Matrix.” He defeats Agent Smith while Trinity, Tank, and Morpheus survive an attack in the real world. The film ends with Neo back in “the Matrix” and promising the A.I. machines that control it that he will free humanity from their control. What’s Good About It Don’t get me wrong; there are some good things about The Matrix. For my taste, I think Laurence Fishburne gives the strongest performance out of all the actors in the movie. This shouldn’t be surprising to anyone who’s seen a part of Fishburne’s filmography; he’s one of those actors that delivers pretty much every time he’s on screen. And his portrayal of Morpheus is no exception. From start to finish, Fishburne injects a satisfying amount of grit & gravitas into his role to ensure that Morpheus is a consistently compelling mentor to Reeves’ Neo (who I’ll get to in the next section). Another thing you simply cannot take away from The Matrix is the exceptional worldbuilding. Much like Tolkien’s construction of Middle-Earth that Peter Jackson adapted for his The Lord of the Rings trilogy, the Wachowskis essentially created a cinematic template for the modern dystopian sci-fi universe that Hollywood has drawn on over the last quarter-century. But the twisted, dark future that they predict in the film has a unique focus: philosophy. Certainly, The Matrix is not the first sci-fi flick to explore & examine ideas. However, it is one of the first (and most successful) action blockbuster movies to be so philosophically oriented. In my humble opinion, movies like Avengers: Infinity War wouldn’t have ended up how they did because major film studios would likely be too reticent to let filmmakers presume their audience to be smart enough to engage with complex ideas. That alone earns The Matrix some praise. Of course, the most objectively impressive element of The Matrix is the special-effects work. For the time it came out, the Wachowskis’ use of CGI (notably the “bullet time” sequence) was nothing short of groundbreaking. The way the effects integrate with the action without distracting from the human beings involved helps someone like me (who was only 3 years old when the film came out & didn’t grow up watching it) comprehend why people who love The Matrix really love it. That being said, I do think (unlike some big-time defenders of this movie) that the CGI is a bit dated in retrospect. Not that I think this fact detracts from the film’s sustained influence on action movies to this day. Clearly, The Matrix remains a reference point for filmmakers (including Chad Stahelski, who worked as Reeves’ stunt double on this film & became one of the creative minds behind the John Wick franchise). Thus, if nothing else, it deserves its place in film history in that respect. What’s Holding It Back While there are clearly some admirable qualities of The Matrix in terms of its cinematic legacy, its bones as a strong piece of narrative art leaves something to be desired. Let me explain what I mean. Before anything else, like the worldbuilding & special effects, a movie needs to be on a story level and character level. In the case of The Matrix, it’s not too different from other “hero’s journey” arcs in other classic sci-fi films like Star Wars. Unfortunately, I don’t think Keanu Reeves was the best choice for the lead of this particular story. While he fits well in both zany comedic roles (from Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure to Toy Story 4) and eccentric action flicks like Speed or John Wick, he doesn’t have the dramatic chops necessary to draw the audience to Neo’s emotional struggle. Undoubtedly, he excels during the action set pieces and Reeves remains in the hearts of many film lovers for that (in addition his pure-hearted nature as a human being). Thus, I do not mean to slight him when I give my honest impression of his performance as Neo in The Matrix; it just doesn’t work. Which brings me to the Wachowskis’ screenplay. I praised their approach to worldbuilding earlier, which is certainly evident in their story work. However, that doesn’t mean their dialogue & character work is on par. And I’m not just talking about Neo’s journey. I’ve seen The Matrix twice, and more often while watching it I feel like it works better as a thought experiment than as a riveting story. Maybe this is just how I see cinema, but at its core stories should entertain the person consuming the story. Is it bad to explore meaty philosophical concepts and create a lived-in dystopia in the process? Absolutely not, but those elements should not supplant telling a good story as the primary purpose of the film existing in the first place. If I don’t feel invested in the characters that inhabit the dystopian world of The Matrix and fight in cool ways, then why should I watch the film to begin with? Ultimately, why do I think The Matrix isn’t great? I think, more than anything else, it just feels a bit overrated. Again, its impact upon popular culture since it came out cannot be understated. The fact that concepts in introduced like “red pill, blue bill” continue to permeate politics & society to this day is evidence enough that it should be thought of as an important film. But, as with other genre-defying films like Jurassic Park or Mad Max: Fury Road, a film’s importance and its greatness are not always in equal measure. And, in my humble opinion, The Matrix falls in that category, too. People talk about this movie as one of the best sci-fi movies ever made & I simply don’t agree. It has some bright spots, but as a cinematic package it falls short of greatness by more than a bit. But maybe I’m wrong, and The Matrix is truly a cinematic masterpiece. I suppose you’ll have to convince me otherwise. 😊 What am I missing about the Wachowskis’ The Matrix? Do you think it’s a great movie or do you agree that something’s holding it back from greatness? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst
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While I’m the first to admit that I’m not the biggest fan of Stanley Kubrick’s work, I also don’t hide the fact that some of his movies are fantastic. Films like Paths of Glory, Spartacus, and Full Metal Jacket more than deserve their reputations as some of the best in cinematic history. But what about his movies that, in my humble opinion, strive for greatness and get close but don’t quite get there.
One of those is Kubrick’s epic drama Barry Lyndon. Released in 1975, the film received admiration from critics upon release but financially underperformed. Given the pressures Kubrick was under while making it (including a potentially genuine threat to Kubrick’s life by the Provisional IRA), the efforts that went into it did not seem to pay off. Still, retrospective examination of the film has been more favorable due to its groundbreaking cinematography (particularly its use of natural lighting). Even acclaimed filmmakers like Martin Scorsese have named it one of their favorite Kubrick movies. But I have to ask…why isn’t Barry Lyndon great? [NOTE: This blog will contain spoilers for “Barry Lyndon.” You have been warned.] What’s It About Based on the 1844 picaresque novel by British author William Makepeace Thackeray, Barry Lydon tells the “rise-and-fall” story of Redmond Barry (Ryan O’Neal), an Irish rogue who seeks to improve his life by seizing the opportunities presented to him. After falling in love with his cousin Nora Brady (Gay Hamilton) and derailing her marriage proposal to Captain John Quin (Leonard Rossiter), Barry flees home and is robbed while traveling. Penniless, he joins the British Army to start over. After losing his friend Captain Grogan (Godfrey Quigley) during battle in Germany, Barry gets fed up with war and deserts. However, while en route to the Netherlands, he is found out by Captain Potzdorf (Harry Krüger) of Prussia who threatens to turn Barry over to the British unless he enlists in the Prussian Army. Barry reluctantly does so, and ends up earning a special commendation from King Frederick II for showing valor in battle. Upon the conclusion of the Seven Years’ War, Potzdorf’s uncle hires Barry to work in law enforcement. He goes undercover as a servant to the Chevalier de Balibari (Patrick Magee), a professional gambler suspected of spying for the Austrians. However, since Balibari is a fellow Irishman, Barry reveals everything to him and they work together to cheat at cards. This leads to Balibari getting into trouble but Barry is able to sneak him out of Prussia before he himself (disguised as the Chevalier) leaves the next day to reunite with his gambling companion. Spending the next few years trekking across Europe with Balibari, Barry eventually comes across and seduces the wealthy Countess of Lyndon (Marisa Berenson). They marry shortly after the death of the countess’s elderly husband’s death, and Barry takes her surname and settles in England with his new wife. However, tensions quickly boil over as Lady Lyndon’s ten-year-old son by her late husband, Lord Bullingdon (Dominic Savage), comes to hate Barry which spurs him to physically abuse his stepson. Despite having a son by her, Barry’s marriage to Lady Lyndon is toxic due to his transparent adultery and excessive spending habits. Upon the arrival of Barry’s mother Belle (Marie Kean) coming to live with him and the countess, she advises her son to obtain a title of nobility for himself to protect his inheritance of his wife’s wealth from Lord Bullingdon. He starts laying plans to ingratiate himself to high society (spending lots of money in the process), but it starts derailing when a now-adult Lord Bullingdon (Leon Vitali) crashes his mother’s lavish birthday party that Barry put on by publicly decrying him. In retaliation, Barry beats Bullingdon until he is physically restrained. This brash action ousts Barry from polite society for good. As their finances strain, Barry gifts his son Bryan (David Morley) a horse for his ninth birthday. However, after the horse throws Bryan (resulting in his death days later), Barry becomes a grief-stricken alcoholic and Lady Lyndon attempts suicide. To straighten out their accounts and comfort the countess, Lord Bullingdon is sent for. Upon arriving, he challenges his stepfather to a duel. After Bullingdon misfires, Barry intentionally fires into the ground but Bullingdon refuses to let the dual end. In the second round, Bullingdon successfully wounds Barry in the leg causing Barry to have his leg forcibly amputated above the knee. While Barry recovers, Bullingdon takes control over his mother’s estate and attempts to bribe Barry with an annual salary on the condition that he leave England permanently. Without credit or savings, Barry has no choice but to accept and resorts to his former life of gambling (albeit with minimal success). What’s Good About It Whatever I think of many Kubrick films, I will not deny that several of them are innovative cinema in more ways than one (most prominently, the Oscar-winning special effects of 2001: A Space Odyssey are a standout). And even though Barry Lyndon is a lesser-known movie within Kubrick’s filmography, it solidifies itself as one of his best cinematic achievements on a technical level. For one thing, the production design of Barry Lyndon appears flawless. From the costumes to the sets and environments, Kubrick’s creative team managed to seemingly perfectly capture the somewhat chaotic nature of mid-18th century Europe with the many wars and political unrest preceding the French Revolution. Even setting aside its revolutionary lighting techniques, the film remains (in my humble opinion) one of the gold standards of production design nearly fifty years after it came out. However, the most notable technical achievement of Barry Lyndon without a doubt is the cinematography. John Alcott, Kubrick’s go-to cinematographer from the late 1960s to the early 1980s, and his collaboration with the director on this movie managed to capture the landscapes of the European countryside in such a breathtaking way so as to make these environments feel both classic and lively at the same time. But it’s the film’s reliance on natural lighting that is truly a technical marvel and breakthrough for the industry. By utilizing candles to light many of the indoor scenes (and relying on Zeiss camera lenses developed for NASA to capture the dark side of the moon in the process), Kubrick and Alcott crafted some deservedly Oscar-winning cinematography to elevate this film as a breathtaking piece of visual artistry. Combining the immersive production design with the revolutionary lighting, Kubrick balances the epic with the intimate in order to craft an exceptionally well-made movie. Despite my gripes with the story, Barry Lyndon is worth watching for the technical craft on display alone. What’s Holding It Back While Barry Lyndon is an excellent film from a technical and visual standpoint, it’s not necessarily the most compelling narrative ever made for the silver screen. As a “rise and fall” tale set in Georgian England and pre-Napoleonic Europe, the film struggled to justify me being invested in the actual ascendance and downfall of its eponymous protagonist. Clearly, it isn’t Kubrick’s fault per se since he nabbed some career-defining performances from actors in his other films (Kirk Douglas in Paths of Glory, Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange, and Jack Nicholson in The Shining; just to name a few). However, I feel like Ryan O’Neal take on Lyndon lacks any kind of charm or approachability. Even if I can’t empathize with him, I should be able to sympathize to some degree with his predicaments and his journey. But I never really did. On the other hand, maybe Kubrick can partially be blamed for my struggle to care about Lyndon’s ultimate failure to succeed in life. What I mean by that is his cold and detached approach to the story feels excessive. In other words, instead of showing me why I should despise Lyndon through his actions he makes me struggle to care much at all from the onset. All in all, Barry Lyndon is a movie that looks great but (in my humble opinion) doesn’t quite achieve the full potential of its storytelling by solidifying itself as one of the great “rise and fall” tales ever put to cinema. Is it worth watching? If you’re a fan of Kubrick’s other work, I do recommend it as a point of comparison. Furthermore, if you appreciate visually innovative cinema from the 1970s, it should rise towards to the top of your “to-watch” list. Otherwise, though, I’d recommend films like Scarface or Goodfellas before this one in terms of the kind of story that it’s trying to tell. But maybe I’m wrong, and Barry Lyndon is truly a cinematic masterpiece. I suppose you’ll have to convince me otherwise. 😊 What am I missing about Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon? Do you think it’s a great movie or do you agree that something’s holding it back from greatness? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay In 1988, the Penny Marshall-directed fantasy comedy Big made a significant impact upon its release. Not only did it gross over 150 million dollars on an eighteen-million-dollar budget, but critics universally praised the movie for the performances (notably Hanks) and it received two Oscar nominations (including Hanks’s first acting nomination). Surely, many people place Big alongside the best comedies of the 1980s (from Ivan Reitman’s Ghostbusters to Rob Reiner’s When Harry Met Sally…).
But I have to ask…why isn’t Big great? [NOTE: This blog will contain spoilers for “Big.” You have been warned.] What’s It About While trying to impress a girl at a traveling carnival, pre-teen Josh Baskin (David Moscow) is prevented from boarding the Super Loops ride due to his height. Feeling dejected, Josh goes to the fortune-telling machine Zoltar and wishes to be “big.” Despite the machine being unplugged, it dispenses a card stating that Josh’s wish is granted. The next morning, Josh (Tom Hanks) looks in the mirror revealing that he has grown into an adult man overnight. Despite trying to explain the situation to his mother (Mercedes Ruehl), she kicks him out of the house out of a belief that Josh is actually a stranger that kidnapped her son. After discovering that the carnival with Zoltar has moved on, Josh finds his best friend Billy Kopecki (Jared Rushton) and manages to persuade him that he is, in fact, Josh. Once they learn that it will take them six weeks to find the carnival again, Josh decides to rent a cheap apartment in New York City and ends up getting a job as a data entry clerk at a toy company. After impressing his boss, Mr. MacMillan (Robert Loggia), with his knowledge of toy lines and childish enthusiasm, Josh is ultimately promoted to Vice President of Product Development after impressing senior executives at a pitch meeting. Josh becomes enveloped by his “adult” life through his work and blossoming relationship of co-executive Susan Lawrence (Elizabeth Perkins), all at the expense of ignoring his friendship with Billy. However, the pressure of being the “idea man” at the company makes Josh wish for his old life back and tries to explain his situation to Susan (to no avail). After learning of the Zoltar machine’s new location from Billy, Josh abruptly flees a corporate meeting at work to run to Sea Point Park and get his old life back. Susan follows him to the machine, where she finds him wishing to become “a kid again.” She confronts him about leaving, but upon realizing that he was telling the truth about being a child is saddened by the fact that their relationship will end. Josh reassures Susan that he enjoyed being with her and suggests she make a wish to become younger, but Susan declines. After driving Josh home, Susan has an emotional farewell before he transforms into a child again and reunites with his mother. What’s Good About It In my humble opinion, Big only works as well as it does because of Tom Hanks’s central performance. Simply put, he carries the weight of this flawed movie squarely on his shoulders (maybe not an Oscar-worthy achievement, but one worth highlighting). Given the incredibly comedic potential of the premise of Big, Hanks manages to make the most of it in several scenes (notably the initial reveal with him in the bathroom and the early “fish-out-of-water” scenes with him at MacMillan Toy Company). Without delving too much into what I dislike about the film, I just wish the writing and other actors shouldered more of this weight and gave Hanks even more opportunities to shine. As I was watching Big, I kept thinking about how much potential to be really funny it lost in comparison to David F. Sandberg’s superhero flick Shazam! By no means is that movie perfect, but I think the writing and directing on display there gives Zachary Levi and the supporting cast better character moments and more fertile opportunities for laugh-out-loud comedic gold. That being said, Hanks did the best he can with what he was given. That alone is commendable, and thankfully his acting chops only improved over the next ten years in films like Philadelphia, Forrest Gump, Apollo 13, Saving Private Ryan, and The Green Mile. What’s Holding It Back I hope it’s clear by now that I don’t have many kind things to say about Big. While I don’t think it’s a bad movie, its several flaws (in my humble opinion) hold it back from being anything more than okay. The more I think about it, I think what ultimately handicaps Big from achieving greatness is its tonal imbalance from start to finish. On the one hand, Hanks’s entertaining performance as a man-child is funny in small bits but over the course of nearly two hours can be grating to the point of not being funny anymore. Which doesn’t help the fact that NOTHING about the other characters is remotely laugh-inducing when separated from Hanks’s character. On the other hand, director Penny Marshall clearly wanted Josh Baskin to have a meaningful arc where he developed a meaningful relationship as an “adult” that made him appreciate the good things about getting older. Or did she? To be honest, I’m not quite sure what Josh’s journey is actually about. Is it about longing for the innocence of youth and his friends from that life? Or is it about coming to learn something good about maturing which makes him kind of look forward to actually becoming an adult? It’s hard to say, because I don’t think the writing or directing show their hand very well at all in this regard. As a result, Big fails to work as a compelling character study with comedic beats nor as a laugh-out-loud comedy. It lacks the emotional heft for the former, while also falling short of the consistent funny moments for the latter. In short, it ends up feeling as empty and shallow as a slapstick comedy while simultaneously being not as funny. If I were to suggest rewrites (not that anyone’s asking 😊), I would advise the screenwriters to tie Josh’s character growth to something other than a romantic relationship with a real adult woman. I get that the 1980s were a different time (I mean, Marty McFly nearly had sex with his mom, for God’s sake!), but I simply cannot get behind the idea of Josh (who is ACTUALLY a child!) falling in love with Susan who then returns the affection EVEN AFTER she finds out that Josh is really twelve years old. It just feels so lazy and detached from reality, which does nothing except work against any emotional payoff that Marshall and the actors were trying to make work. But maybe I’m wrong, and Big is truly a cinematic masterpiece. I suppose you’ll have to convince me otherwise. 😊 What am I missing about this early Tom Hanks comedy classic? Do you think it’s a great movie or do you agree that something’s holding it back from greatness? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay Acclaimed sci-fi adventure director Robert Zemeckis adapted Carl Sagan’s 1985 novel into the 1997 drama Contact. Starring Jodie Foster, the film grossed over 170 million dollars during its theatrical run and received largely positive reviews from critics at the time despite some negative feedback about the third act. With Zemeckis’s direction and Foster’s performance, it would be understandable for the film to go down in history as one of the best science-fiction flicks ever made.
But I have to ask…why isn’t Contact great? [NOTE: This blog will contain spoilers for “Contact.” You have been warned.] What’s It About Dr. Eleanor “Ellie” Arroway (Jodie Foster), a communications analyst with the SETI program at the Arecibo Observatory in Puerto Rico, fights back against funding for the program being pulled by the White House science advisor David Drumlin (Tom Skerritt). After securing funding from by private billionaire industrialist S.R. Hadden (John Hurt), Ellie relocates to New Mexico. But, four years later, Drumlin tries to end SETI once again until Ellie discovers a signal repeating a sequence of prime numbers which she believes was sent from the Vega star system approximately 26 light-years away. While Drumlin, leading the National Security Council, readies to shut down SETI, Ellie and her team discover a video of Adolf Hitler’s opening address at the Berlin Summer Olympics in 1936 and they believe this broadcast would have been the first signal strong enough to leave Earth, reach Vega, and be transmitted back. Once word gets out, SETI is tightly secured and progress on its findings are tracked across the world. After Ellie discovers that the signal contains tens of thousands of pages of illegible data, Hadden enters the public sphere to meet with her and help her decode the data which reveals schematics for a transportation machine designed for one person. Many nations of the world come together to fund the construction of the machine in Cape Canaveral, and an international panel is formed to choose who should go in the transport. Despite Ellies being a frontrunner, Christian philosopher Palmer Joss (Matthew McConaughey) highlights her atheism as a point against her. Thus, Drumlin is ultimately chosen as a better representative for humanity. However, during the machine’s test a terrorist destroys the machine and Drumlin is killed as a result. While speaking to Hadden, who is dying of cancer, Ellie learns that his company and the U.S. government built a second prototype of the machine in Japan and that she has been selected to go. Shortly after entering the pod, Ellie travels through a series of wormholes and spots a radio array-like structure at Vega (hinting at signs of an advanced civilization there). She finally lands on a beach that is eerily similar to her childhood drawing of Pensacola, Florida. While on the beach, a figure approaches her and it shows up as her father, but they are actually an alien taking her father’s form. The alien explains that the familiar landscape was created to make first contact with Ellie easier on her, and that her journey is the first step for humanity joining other species in space travel. Ellie travels back through a wormhole, and wakes up on the floor of the machine with members of missions control trying to get her attention. Despite Ellie insisting that she was gone for eighteen hours, the recording devices strapped to her body show only noise. During a Congressional testimony, Ellie insists that the government and the world accept her account of her journey on faith alone (despite the government insisting that the signal was simply a hoax by Hadden). However, in a private conversation not involving Ellie, it is revealed that Ellie’s recording devices did capture 18 hours of static. In the end, Ellie reunites with Joss (with whom she previously had a romantic relationship) and she continues her work in New Mexico. What’s Good About It To be clear, Contact is by no means a bad movie. In fact, it has some of my favorite elements of modern sci-fi cinematic storytelling. Notably, a strong lead performance of a character whose story and personality feel grounded in a narrative about the surreal and (almost) unbelievable. Without question, I think that the strongest aspect of Contact is Jodie Foster’s presence. Her take on Ellie as someone incredibly devoted to her work which also works against her in some ways feels relatable without coming off as too romantic or too gritty. Furthermore, Foster handles her character’s backstory involving her relationship with her father well enough that the third-act reveal works in the sense that Ellie gains some kind of closure with him (even though it’s not really him). But perhaps my favorite part of Foster’s take on Ellie is how she is able to humanize the day-to-day grunt work that scientists do to make the kinds of discoveries that should matter to humanity. In all these respects, the movie does a great job at investing the audience in its protagonist irrespective of the overall narrative that she’s the focus of. Besides the central performance, I think Zemeckis was somewhat ahead of his time in terms of crafting a “hard sci-fi” flick that takes questions like “How would human beings respond to potential contact from extraterrestrial life?” seriously. One of the only other movies that, in my humble opinion, does this well is Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival which came out in 2016 (nearly twenty years after Contact). What both movies do well is believably wrestle with the diverse array of responses that people would have to learning about aliens trying to get in contact with Earth. Furthermore, films like Contact and Arrival seem to ignore the pressures of modern sci-fi flicks to be action-packed (or at least rely on more kinetic, intense scenes to engage an audience). Instead, they represent some of the greatest aspirations of the genre as movies that explore ideas (in this case, the existential crisis that humanity faces when learning that we’re not the only sentient life forms in existence). This alone deserves praise. That being said, does Arrival handle its concept better than Contact? I think it does, which gets to the reasons why I don’t think Contact, despite its strengths, is not a great movie. What’s Holding It Back For me, what holds Contact back from greatness is Zemeckis focusing too much of the film’s two-and-a-half-hour runtime on a subplot about humanity’s “crisis of faith” involving Ellie’s scientific atheism and Palmer’s Christian philosophy. Diametrically opposed to each other ideologically, these two characters are meant to represent the “science/faith” conflict in human society as it relates to the discovery of extraterrestrial life. While I understand why Zemeckis felt it important to include this aspect of the story, I just think it’s not given enough time to breathe and ultimately feels halfhearted and ineffective. Ultimately, this is due to the fact that the final message from the filmmaker and his team about rationality and faith’s relationship to each other feels muddled. There’s no clear answer given as to what humanity should prioritize in the search for knowledge, nor if there even should be a choice. In essence, I think this plot strand should’ve been left as a subtextual backdrop to the core narrative rather than force-fed to the audience. One of the other major problems with Contact comes from how it handles the third-act “twist” of Ellie traveling many light-years into space and meeting the aliens for the first time. Is it emotionally poignant for her to see her father again? Sure, but it’s not a very visually or thematically satisfying approach to showing us what extraterrestrial life could be. Nor do I think that it’s an interesting point to make about how humanity will only see itself in any other life form. At least not for a sci-fi movie like this (I refer people to Arrival if you want to see an exciting yet narratively relevant depiction of alien life). Admittedly, I do find it difficult to sufficiently explain why Contact ultimately doesn’t reach the level of great cinema that it should for me. While it works more often than not, I found myself somewhat underwhelmed by the end. But maybe I’m wrong, and Contact is truly a cinematic masterpiece. I suppose you’ll have to convince me otherwise. 😊 What am I missing about the sci-fi thought piece Contact? Do you think it’s a great movie or do you agree that something’s holding it back from greatness? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay Directed by acclaimed action-adventure storyteller John Guillermin, The Towering Inferno is an epic disaster film that made its mark on the genre when it was released in 1974. Despite its more mixed critical reception at the time, the film earned an astonishing 200 million dollars at the box office and took home three Oscars out of eight nominations (including Best Picture) for cinematography, editing, and original song. Without a doubt, it has cemented a legacy as a progenitor of the disaster genre that continues to wow audiences to this day.
But I have to ask…why isn’t The Towering Inferno great? [NOTE: This blog will contain spoilers for “The Towering Inferno.” You have been warned.] What’s It About Upon returning to San Francisco, architect Doug Roberts (Paul Newman) arrives at the newly-constructed Glass Tower for a dedication ceremony. Built as the tallest building in the world at the time, Roberts becomes concerned that the electrician Roger Simmons (Richard Chamberlain) cut corners when two short circuits start fires. Roberts confronts Simmons, who’s also the son-in-law of the building’s developer James Duncan (William Holden), but the electrician lies about having no knowledge of such errors. When all the lights in the building are turned on during the ceremony, smoke begins emanating from the 81st floor (where one of the two electrical fires started earlier) which incentivizes the local fire departments to arrive. Roberts heads upstairs to investigate the smoke, but his companion and building engineer Will Giddings (Norman Burton) is burned alive after saving a security guard from the raging flames. Roberts then confronts Duncan about the fire, but Duncan refuses to evacuate the building as he’s trying to secure an urban renewal contract from Senator Gary Parker (Robert Vaughn). It is only when Michael O’Halloran (Steve McQueen), chief of the fire department, demands it that the guests of the ceremony are evacuated from the 135th floor. As chaos begins to ensue, Simmons admits to Duncan that he cut corners on the electrical wiring to keep the building of the Tower under budget. Several guests and Dan Bigelow (Robert Wagner), the public relations officer for the Tower, are killed while escaping the fire. If things could not get any worse, a ruptured gas line explodes destroying the emergency stairs. This strands con man Harlee Claiborne (Fred Astaire) and Lisolette Mueller (Jennifer Jones), who must help a deaf mother and her two children traverse the destroyed staircase in order to reach a service elevator which they can use to get to the 134th floor where fireman await them. As the fire starts to be contained, the electrical system fails causing the passenger elevators to shut off. In order to reach safety, O’Halloran is forced to rappel down the elevator shaft. Meanwhile, a helicopter approaches the rooftop of the Tower to rescue stranded guests but when two women rush the aircraft it crashes onto the roof trying to evade them. As a result, the top of the Tower is now on fire. As the fire rages, a Navy rescue team set up a breeches buoy to help guests (including the deaf mother and her children) escape the burning building to the neighboring Peerless Building. However, Lisolette falls to her death after an explosion on the 110th floor throws her from the elevator. Just before the sole cable holding the elevator in place snaps, O’Halloran rescue it with a Navy helicopter. As the fire reaches the Promenade Room (where the dedication ceremony took place), Simmons leads a group to try and commandeer the breeches buoy and escape but another explosion stops them (and kills Simmons and Senator Parker in the process). As the building is engulfed in flames, O’Halloran and Roberts decide to use plastic explosives to destroy the water tanks at the top of the Tower. The gallons of water rushes through the building, saving most of the guests, and extinguishes the flames. In the aftermath of the accident, Duncan reassures his daughter that such a disaster will never happen. Meanwhile, O’Halloran requests that Roberts help him oversee the planning of a fire-safe skyscraper which Roberts accepts before driving away. What’s Good About It When I first watched The Towering Inferno, I wasn’t expecting much. Having been wowed by more modern disaster epics like Titanic, I went into this expecting to be underwhelmed by it. And while the first hour certainly fulfilled that expectation (I’ll get to that later), I was genuinely entertained by the latter two hours when everything goes to hell. To be clear, the plot of the movie is very thin. Therefore, it’s not so much the characters in particular that I’m invested in but rather the situations they find themselves in. As a fellow human being, I watch Fred Astaire’s morally corrupt con man Harlee helping a family make their way down a destroyed staircase and empathize with that predicament as someone who would never want to be in that predicament. On that note, this scene involving Astaire and Jennifer Jones getting the family to safety is probably the most suspenseful part of the latter half of the film. Not to mention the production value, as the cinematography, props, and décor all culminate into a pretty convincing death trap of an escape route for them in a movie that came out three years before Star Wars. Much to my surprise, I think this set piece in particular holds up today at a time when disaster movies lacked much of the gritty realism that (in my humble opinion) films of this kind need in order to be truly gripping and engaging. Some of this grounded reality, however, is thrown out the window in the third act when 70s action stars Steve McQueen and Paul Newman lead an effort to use C-4 to destroy water tanks in an effort to extinguish the flames burning the Glass Tower by essentially flooding the building. Not to bring up Titanic again, but just watch the third act of that film to understand how utterly terrifying and destructive a force water in a confined space can actually be. Simply put, the people left in the Tower at that point should’ve been severely crippled, if not killed, by the force of these water tanks exploding. But, I forgive this set piece because it’s fun to watch. All in all, The Towering Inferno is strongest after the first hour because of how its use of individual set pieces involving death-defying scenarios embody the best of the disaster genre of cinema. If not for the first hour, this movie might just be one of the better ones of this genre. What’s Holding It Back Which gets to why, in my humble opinion, why The Towering Inferno is not great. Its first act, which essentially lasts an entire hour, is utterly boring to the point where I was falling asleep sitting through these pointless and unnecessary scenes establishing characters that I (for the most part) didn’t end up caring about. I think this first act fails mostly because of that. It gives us character dynamics and conflicts (such as the corruption storyline involving Holden’s character) that come off as needless in a movie whose best qualities are the suspenseful action in the second and third acts. Furthermore, as I said in the previous section of this blog, the audience doesn’t really need to empathize with any of these characters beyond just having a base level of humanity. Therefore, caring about how this accident might affect one person’s career or another person’s relationship with their spouse just doesn’t happen. If anything, many people’s biggest complaint about The Towering Inferno is its excessive runtime. I don’t disagree and think that if the editor had condensed the first hour’s focus on introducing characters to a brisk twenty minutes and focused the narrative mostly on the set pieces of the second half, this film could truly be great given the time it came out. Alas, that didn’t happen, and so the first hour drags the movie down and prevents it from being anything but mildly entertaining but ultimately a film I cannot recommend because of how awful its first act truly is. But maybe I’m wrong, and The Towering Inferno is truly a cinematic masterpiece. I suppose you’ll have to convince me otherwise. 😊 What am I missing about the influential disaster flick The Towering Inferno? Do you think it’s a great movie or do you agree that something’s holding it back from greatness? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst |
Austin McManusI have no academic or professional background in film production or criticism; I simply love watching and talking about movies. Archives
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