I had a very nice weekend rewatching movies that I remembered liking from Blockbuster 15 or 20 years ago, and hadn't seen since.
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)
Kind of a perfect movie. Starts with one hell of a battle, ends with another great battle and in between you get some wonderfully detailed historical slice-of-life in a series of vignettes that hit the peaks of comedy and tragedy without ever feeling corny or melodramatic. I like that kind of honesty. Characters do reprehensible stuff, sometimes for the wrong reasons, sometimes for the absolutely correct ones. The movie doesn't judge, or rather doesn't necessarily punish for them. It also doesn't go easy with the harshness of living standards or personal relationships. But it also has a sense of humor in the way characters sort of abandon themselves to their fate. Some great set-pieces, practical stuff and very bleak effects/makeup.
The ending plays rent-free in my head regularly.
Caché (2005)
All of Haneke's movies are a bummer. I mean they're great but boy they make you miserable. All of them center on a bourgeois middle-aged couple named Georges and Anne, or their German equivalent; all of them are cold, clinical, indifferent and make Kubrick feel like Santa Claus. In this, the couple starts receiving videotapes in their doorstep that show footage of their house. In the videos, they see themselves walk in and out of their home. They also appear to pass the camera and even look at it without knowing it. What the hell? They also start getting childish yet intimidating drawings of kids and chickens vomiting blood or getting their throat slashed.
I wanted to rewatch this for three reasons: first, it's one of those movies that greatly benefits from a second viewing. Not because it helps elucidate the mystery (how, who, why) but because it frees you from trying to work everything out like it's a puzzle and you can just wallow in it. Second, I wanted to confirm with a partner that the very last shot of the movie is brilliantly designed to hide something in plain sight that apparently nobody ever catches in a first viewing. And third, I wanted to indeed confirm how dreary and realistic
that one scene still looks. The lone clip doesn't really do it justice. Consider this is buried at the tail end of a 2 hour French movie of bored adults having stale dinner party chit chat and watching security cam footage.
Seven Samurai (1954)
Everybody knows the spiel. It's been remade a million times under different banners - westerns, comedies, animation, sci-fi, war movies - but this is where it's at. It's an incredibly breezy three and a half hours (plus intermission) that does everything absolutely the right way. A problem is quickly illustrated and made insurmountable; no need to make the bandits particularly hateful or metonymical of a greater evil. You're with the farmers because they're so pathetic. Four are quickly dispatched to the city to recruit samurai - which they hold in contempt simply because they're so helpless without them, and isn't that a great trait to develop - and you can already make their clashing personalities without even having to know their names. You spend long enough with them that they start feeling like the protagonists, and empathize with their plight.
Enter Kambei, who starts the trend of heroes being introduced at the climax of an otherwise irrelevant mission, and doest the math for the farmers: they need at least 7 samurai to defend their village, including him. Toshiro Mifune eventually becomes the heart of the movie as the wayward seventh samurai (he's the only one given a backstory, which is relayed piecemeal when something naturally jogs his memory, and not frontloaded in flashbacks) but Kambei is the grand architect of the story, and everything from the recruitment of the other samurai to the defense of the village is motivated by his strategic planning. Teamwork is great when it doesn't get you killed, but ultimately my fascination with the movie is that it's driven by such an intelligent, resourceful character yet the movie doesn't have to cheat to escalate the risks. It's also why I love The Thing (1982), with which it shares an empty sense of victory.
Mississippi Burning (1988)
Speaking of empty sense of victory, Mississippi Burning is about the FBI investigating the disappearence of three social activists - two white, one black - in a backwater Mississippi county in 1964. This really happened. The movie is essentially what the movie adaptation of Killers of the Flower Moon bent over backwards to not do, which is portray the FBI as the heroes while focusing on their eleventh hour arrival to sniff out the systematic genocide of a peoples. Something that was very much an open secret yet nobody appeared to give a damn about it until it became a bif ole political thing blown out of proportion by the media. Which the Mississippi ghouls of course blamed for their own racist crimes. See, the real problem was them Hoover boys come down South to stir shit out of proportion.
Stars Gene Hackman as the cheery, benevolent version of Jimmy 'Popeye' Doyle and Willem Dafoe as a preppy Edmund Exley type, younger but technically Hackman's boss. And Brad Dourif, Frances McDormand, R. Lee Ermey, Michael Rooker, Stephen Tobolowsky... hell of a cast. If I have a single criticism for the movie is that I wish there was more buddy cop stuff going on between them. For my taste, Hackman is way more prevalent and proactive than Dafoe, who kinda falls back into the limelight and becomes the face of the bureaucratic part of the process. The script is also a little spotty on just how ok Dafoe is with Hackman's loose cannon methods - he'll agree to one thing in one scene, then immediately chastise Hackman for going along in the next. Lastly, love
the score.