AND SO GOD IS ONE OF THEM

The Night of the Hunter, 1955. Directed by Charles Laughton, written by James Agee (and an uncredited Laughton.) Starring Billy Chapin, Robert Mitchum, Shelley Winters, Lillian Gish, James Gleason, Evelyn Varden (so I annoying I want to take Preacher’s switchblade to her), Don Beddoe, Peter Graves, and the creepy Sally Jane Bruce.

and,

Davis Grubb’s The Night of the Hunter, published by Harper Brothers, New York, 1953.

We all know of great novels that have been turned into awful movies. But what about those rare moments when a movie is so good that it overshadows a decent source novel? And then there are those times, rarer still, when a great movie’s shadow casts its darkness over a forgotten book that turns out–surprise!–to be superior in every way to the classic film.

Consider the case of the movie The Night of the Hunter. Profoundly bizarre, funny in spots, terrifying in others, referencing silent films and Grimm’s fairy tales and stories from the Holy Bible, Night is a classic flick by any account, and a personal top ten favorite. So imagine my shock when I opened the novel, casually, and began to read the book by long-dead, long-forgotten novelist Davis Grubb. Reading the original made the movie so much more moving. In fact, the book ruined a good many evenings, and got to the point where I literally couldn’t read ten pages without crying. Was screenwriter James Agee moved in the same way? Or director Charles Laughton? Read the book yourself… if you can.

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LET’S TALK ABOUT CHINATOWN

Chinatown, 1974. Directed by Roman Polanski, written by Robert Towne (with significant changes by the director.) Starring Jack Nicholson, Faye Dunaway, John Huston, Perry Lopez, John Hillerman, Diane Ladd, Roy Jensen, James Hong, and, with his stiletto, Mr. Polanski himself.

There he is, with his switchblade, talking about nosy little kitties. Roman Polanski, the unnamed assailant, emerging from the shadows. “Who’s the dwarf?” Nicholson’s Jake Gittes asks, nodding at Polanski. The nameless little man is startled, offended. So he puts the tip of the stiletto in Gittes’ nose and jerks it back, slicing open the nostril and sending a shocking spray of blood across Nicholson’s face.

For the rest of the movie, Jake Gittes will have a big white bandage across his face. It will make him stand out, it’s the sign of the fool, the man who thinks he can get to the bottom of the mystery. But Polanski knew. He knew that life is a little man with a stiletto, it’s a hero who fails, and that eventually we all find ourselves staring at the horror. And then someone says, “Forget about it. It’s Chinatown.”

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THIS WEEK’S BIRTHDAY: MONTY PYTHON’S FLYING CIRCUS

That’s right: Monty Python. A television show? And why not? Is television not a part of the medium? And did not the madness of this troupe of six perhaps over-educated actors, writing their own material, change the face of television… and movies? Show me an unconventional comedy–perhaps like this last weekend’s Zombieland–and I will show you Monty Python.

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THE STORY OF A TIRED MAN

The Friends of Eddie Coyle, 1973. Directed by Peter Yates, written by Paul Monash. Starring Robert Mitchum, Peter Boyle, Steven Keats, Richard Jordan, and Alex Rocco.

Weary.

That’s how I would describe Robert Mitchum. Even when he was a maniacal beast, as in Night of the Hunter or Cape Fear, he appeared to be carrying the weight of the world on those massive shoulders of his. Mitchum looked like a man on the wrong side of the law: his eyes watery as if from being hung over or drunk and framed by large bags, his voice barely audible, his shoulders drooping, a look that indicated a thorough disappointment with the world and the people around him. Crime paid in Robert Mitchum’s cinematic world. It just never paid that well.

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THIS WEEK’S BIRTHDAY: TERRY O’QUINN

Yes, there’s Peter Lorre. Bernard Herrimann and Sam Peckinpah, Warren Oates. The great cinematographer Gregg Toland, Elisha Cook Jr., Thelma Ritter, John Huston and his dad, Walter. I can talk about the stars in Hollywood’s firmament, and the ones who weren’t stars but could have–and often did have–books written about them, or at the very least articles by esteemed scholars. And I will, trust me I will.

But there’s scores of modern character actors who haven’t yet been the subject of countless reminiscences, or who will earn their paychecks, put in a great day’s work, retire when they can’t remember their lines, and then vanish. Later, when watching one of their movies, you might snap your fingers and go, “who was that guy?” and then forget instantly as some star or famous face more intriguing comes on screen. Terry O’Quinn is one of those character actors that command our attention–until that bigger name comes along.

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THE MASTERPIECE OF SQUARE

Apollo 13, 1995. Directed by Ron Howard, written by William Broyles Jr. and Al Reinert (Astronaut names). Starring Tom Hanks, Bill Paxton, Kevin Bacon, Gary Sinese, Ed Harris, and Kathleen Quinlan.

In honor of the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 landing, I’d like to draw your attention to a great little movie about America’s space travel program. No, it’s not the gorgeous For All Mankind, a new Criterion DVD release well worth watching (and which has been written up enough, in my opinion.) No, I’d rather you go to your local DVD store or library and grab Ron Howard’s Apollo 13.

I’m a minor geek about NASA and any form of space travel, usually preferring dry documentaries on PBS or straightforward productions like Apollo 13 over your more hard-core sci-fi (like Moon). To me, the space program represents this country (and its government) at its best; it reflects the power of the human mind to achieve great things; and, in Apollo 13, shows us that bravery and intellect (and, by extension, a good education) can reap great rewards.

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MANUFACTURED LIVES

The Hurt Locker and Public Enemies.

The Hurt Locker, 2009. Directed by Kathryn Bigelow, written by Mark Boal. Starring Jeremy Renner, Anthony Mackie, Brian Geraghty, Christian Camargo and, ever so briefly (and for no apparent reason), these stars: Guy Pierce, Ralph Fiennes, David Morse, and Evangeline Lily.

The Hurt Locker, a film about three members of the Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) squad stationed in Iraq, opens with a very literal bang. Sergeant J. T. Sanborn (Anthony Mackie), Specialist Owen Eldridge (Brian Geraghty), and their leader, Sergeant Matt Thompson (Guy Pearce), have sent a robot to detonate an Improvised Explosive Device (IED–a road bomb) left in a pile of trash by a busy Baghdad neighborhood.

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THIS WEEK’S BIRTHDAY: WARREN OATES

“Because there was once a god who roamed the earth named Warren Oates.” –Richard Linklater, on one of the sixteen reasons he loves Two-Lane Blacktop

Rumor has it that there’s a documentary out there about Warren Oates, something that might sum up the man from Depoy, Kentucky. I doubt it… I mean, really, how do you sum this guy up? In fact, he should’ve been ridiculous, the way that Elisha Cook Jr.–a great character actor by any standard–often was portrayed.

Look at Oates in my favorite role of his, as G.T.O. in Two-Lane Blacktop. The screenplay, a ridiculous thing that could have resulted in a pretentious three-hour affair, has G.T.O. as some sort of blond-haired former frat boy. Someone got the bright idea to put Oates behind the wheel of the yellow Goat instead, change the frat boy to some former military scrub just trying to get by in this world. There he is, clad in a polyester v-neck sweater that changed colors daily, knuckle-less driving gloves and loafers, smiling that big grin of his and telling a different life story to every hitchhiker who sat in the passenger seat.

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THAT ABOUT SUMS IT UP

Whatever Works, 2009. Directed and written by Woody Allen. Starring Larry David, Evan Rachel Wood, Patricia Clarkson, Ed Begley Jr., Leo Brockman, Henry Cavill, Adam Brooks, Lyle Kanouse, and Michael McKean.

Whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can provide, every temporary measure of grace–whatever works. –Boris Yellnikoff

That’s a beautiful philosophy. That quote closes out Woody Allen’s new movie Whatever Works, and it sums up not only the character of Boris (Larry David), but the film as well. Sometimes, when the summer movie experience is an unhealthy amalgam of battling robots, machine-gun wielding pretty-boys, or drunken frat guys, it’s nice to sit in a darkened theater and watch people talk–about love, life, philosophy, art, quantum mechanics, you name it. In places like beat-up little cafes, out-of-the-way Chinese restaurants, and knish bakeries. Like many Allen movies, Whatever Works is about people trying to get to the bottom of life’s mysteries, and the jokes they tell and the art they create to endure. And while Whatever Works is far from Allen’s best, and far from a great movie, it’s as pleasant a distraction as any. Whatever works, right?

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THE WONDERFUL, INCREDIBLE, AMAZING, AND OFTEN TRUE TALES OF BUSTER KEATON

Our hero came from Nowhere– he wasn’t going Anywhere and got kicked off Somewhere. –Opening title card from Keaton’s short, “The High Sign”

Did you know that Buster Keaton broke his neck making Sherlock Jr.? This sublime picture (screening this weekend at the equally incredible Tryon microcinema at 7:00 and 9:00 pm–some shows are sold out, so check for availability) includes a film-within-a-film, a deadly billiards game with an exploding 13 ball, love lost and regained, and Buster getting tossed off a train by a violent spray of water. That’s how he broke his neck–falling off a boxcar head-first onto an iron rail. Literally a break-neck movie.

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