Miscellanea

I’ve been watching a bunch of films about which I don’t have much to say, but as a customer service will corral a few opinions. Though not a particular fan of Westerns, I had some expectations for 3:10 to Yuma (2007, dvd, *6 -*, MC-76) since I have a high regard for director James Mangold, and how can you go wrong with Russell Crowe and Christian Bale going toe to toe? Crowe indeed makes the film worth watching, and Bale holds his own, but this remake of a Fifties’ “classic” is complacently implausible while balletically violent -- though technically competent it remains mired in old myths of the Wild West. In some ways, Sam Peckinpah’s restored Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (1973) seems fresher, though also horse opera enough so that they might as well have had Kris Kristofferson, Bob Dylan, and Rita Coolidge sing their roles. Indeed the Dylan soundtrack is one of the main appeals here (“Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” etc.) There are stunning Western vistas, but the foreground story of old runnin’-&-gunnin’ buddy but now sheriff Pat (James Coburn) tracking down unregenerate outlaw Billy (KK) never took hold for me. Each scene was a set piece, some effective and some undermined by Peckinpah’s signature misogyny, but for me added up to no narrative drive at all. It was a hoot to watch familiar singers playact, and bit players old and new strut their stuff, but none of the characters register with any authenticity, except maybe Coburn’s. Old Sam was a nasty man, but he had a way with pictures.

Notwithstanding a limited taste for Westerns, I am looking forward to the reappraisal offered by my next film series at the Clark. Starting on March 15th, to tie in with a Frederic Remington exhibition, I’ll be showing four John Ford films in a series called, “A Wild and Savage Land.” Meanwhile, “A Green and Pleasant Land’ continues to draw big crowds, another audience of 160 or more for Tess (1980). This time around, I was slightly impatient with Roman Polanski’s leisurely pace through 172 minutes, but the beauty of the film and of Nastassja Kinski make the film eminently watchable, despite the drag of Hardy’s doom. One film that won’t fit in a future Clark series, but I should mention for the sake of completeness, is the fifth film in the Criterion Collection’s Eclipse Series boxed set of “Late Ozu.” Tokyo Twilight (1957) is certainly the darkest of the Ozu films I’ve seen, dealing with desertion, abortion, and suicide. Chishu Ryo is again the father, but this time daughter Setsuko Hara has fled her arranged marriage, and her younger sister is floundering in her romantic attachments. It’s grim and prolonged at 141 minutes -- worth seeing, but only a depressive would find it the most satisfying of Ozu’s films.

The antithesis of depressing is Ratatouille (2007, dvd, *7+*, MC-96), an animated wonder from Brad Bird and Pixar, which I would certainly recommend even though the Metacritic rating is rather overstated. The computer-generated animation is astounding and artful, but what really sets this film apart is the brilliance of its characterizations and the unlikely premise of making entertainment out of rats infesting a kitchen. But oh yeah, this one rat, he has a world-class sense of smell and a calling to cook, and thus finds himself running a restaurant in Paris. Complications ensue, but resolve -- “anyone can cook,” yes, but some just do it better than the rest. My compliments to the chef. (The Paris locale puts this in the book for future showing at the Clark.)

For a Clark family day this month, I showed (but did not select) Nanny McPhee (2005) and found it relatively enjoyable despite lukewarm reviews. With Emma Thompson repeating the roles of screenwriter and lead from Sense & Sensibility, and with strong support from the likes of Colin Firth, Kelly Macdonald, and Imelda Staunton, this knock-off of Marry Poppins does not descend too far into juvenilia, though I wouldn’t recommend it for anyone past grade school.