Archives for the month of: July, 2018

MV5BNTYzN2MxODMtMDBhOC00Y2M0LTgzMTItMzQ4NDIyYWIwMDEzL2ltYWdlL2ltYWdlXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyNTc1NTQxODI@._V1_UX182_CR0,0,182,268_AL_Is this movie well made? Yes, if you correct for its being the early nineties and an adaptation of a stage play. The first means the close-ups are irritating and the clothes are disastrous; the second that it is talky and uneventful.

Did I like it? I hated it. Look, it’s about terrible people who do lousy things and you keep trying to figure out which one is the least awful but it’s a moving target and the film ends with a sordid little shrug. And Al Pacino is there being Al Pacino, which sucks.

They–Ed Harris, Jack Lemmon, Alan Arkin, and Al Pacino–sell real estate, but in an aggressively scammy way. Kevin Spacey manages their office and they hate him. Alec Baldwin comes from the head office to shout at them. Further scams are cooked up, alliances are made, burglaries occur, and Jonathan Pryce’s life is probably ruined. Definitely his marriage.

I hate movies like this, even if they are quotable. Because…yeah, yeah:

“As you all know, first prize is a Cadillac Eldorado. Anyone wanna see second prize? Second prize is a set of steak knives. Third prize is you’re fired.”

Ugh. Ugh.

Director: James Foley
Rating: R, extremely
Length: 100 minutes
Score: unrateable, because I get why people like it, but also 1/5

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Do you need a good cry? Try this movie.

MV5BZjM5ZDNlOGUtMjhlOS00NjNiLTg4M2MtNzVhMDY3MDlkYzg4XkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyNjc1NTYyMjg@._V1_UY268_CR0,0,182,268_AL_Western Australia, some time after the battle of Gallipoli has started but long before it has ended. A farmer’s son, Archy (Mark Lee), is learning from his uncle (Bill Kerr) how to be a great sprinter. He is blond and handsome and 18. We also immediately learn that, in addition to being fast and a good big brother, he is not racist. Also, of course, and against the wishes of his family and the Australian government, he wishes to join the light cavalry.

A drifter, Frank (Mel Gibson), loses his last twenty pounds betting on himself to beat Archy in a footrace. They are both extremely fast. Fate throws them together, and by various schemes and long desert treks, Archy fails to get Frank into the light cavalry as Frank cannot ride a horse. Archy, because he is desperately too nice, feels bad about this. But Frank is skint so he and his laughably Australian friends join the infantry.

Naturally, Frank and Archy both end up at Gallipoli, as many men from Western Australia did, and also naturally, as speedsters, they end up as runners when the telephones give out, which is always. They are there under the command of Major Barton (Bill Hunter, in the first sympathetic rôle in which I’ve ever seen him), whose wife has sent him off with a kiss and a bottle of champagne to drink on their anniversary.

I need hardly tell you that this does not go well. Watches are not synchronized. Artillery bombardments are inadequate. Major Barton does not wait until his anniversary to drink his bubbles. Communications go down. Self-sacrifice breaks out like a rash. Everybody dies.

Do you need an odd-couple story to make Gallipoli sad? No. Is this one pretty well done? Yes.

Director: Peter Weir
Rating: PG
Length: 110 minutes
Score: 4/5