Two things killed me about the 10-Day Movie Challenge, which I got sucked into on Facebook: presenting the films without explanation, and selecting only ten movies.
But, as I said way back when, I have a blog, which means I can ignore those rules. So I explained each of the ten films — and now, since ten films was just too hard, here are my 10DMC Honorable Mentions.
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My fair lady
I’m not generally a fan of musicals, but My Fair Lady is in a class its own. Lerner’s lyrics are brilliant; I remember my dad often quoting his favorite lines: “Oozing charms from every pore / he oiled his way across the floor….” Rex Harrison’s Henry Higgins is a problematic mixture of brilliant, annoying, and pathetic. Audrey Hepburn’s Eliza Doolittle carves a character arc through both the personal and the political as the play negotiates issues of language, class, and belonging.
In short, it has a depth that I’ve not found in other musicals. The power of language to raise Eliza out of her class, mixed with the displacement that this new language creates — she finds herself alienated from both her old friends and her new opportunities — complicates the narrative of upward mobility. For me, it turned out to be a nice inoculation against the tech-driven, Horatio Alger myths that have become so popular today.
La femme nikita / Point of no return
La Femme Nikita has had a surprisingly significant impact on film and TV. This is true generally — the stylized violence of French director Luc Besson has influenced other filmmakers — but also more directly: it’s been remade twice in film — once in Hong Kong (Black Cat), and once in the US (Point of No Return) — and it’s spawned two TV series — La Femme Nikita, which I watched mainly for Peta Wilson and her Australian accent; and Nikita, starring Maggie Q.
Point of No Return offers an instructive comparison between European and American film. Though Besson’s directing is already somewhat Americanized, it still has its subtleties, including its uncertain ending. John Badham’s version, while it sticks pretty close to the original, takes many of the scenes way over the top — and, in classic American style, provides an unambiguously happy ending.
On a more personal note, I fell in love with Bridget Fonda’s character in Point of No Return. Yes, that’s weird: I didn’t fall in love with Fonda herself, but with “Maggie.” I tried to turn the whole weirdness into a metafictional novel, where the protagonist (“Greg Kemble”) tries to write himself into a sequel, just so he could meet Maggie. It never went anywhere, though from time to time I resurrect the idea. Someday I may return to it, if only for my own amusement.
Domino
I only half remember how I stumbled upon this odd Italian film. I know I watched it on VHS (remember that ancient technology?), so I probably discovered it on the shelf of a local video store (remember those?). I probably recognized Brigitte Nielsen’s name; I’m sure I’m not alone in saying she’d made an impression on me in Beverly Hills Cop II.
Domino has been billed as an “erotic thriller”; I suppose the “erotic” part is mostly accurate, but “thriller” is pushing it a bit. What little critical commentary there is (I don’t think most people have even heard of it) dismisses the film as a slow, incoherent, and incomprehensible mess. I suppose there’s some truth to that, though part of me wonders how much can be chalked up Americans’ blunted sensibilities. We don’t always do well with European films.
Anyway, I found the film interesting. Part of that interest, of course, is Nielsen; she’s imposing in both stature and beauty, both of which play well in the stylized — many critics said over-stylized — artsiness of the Italian director Ivana Massetti. Said more directly: Nielsen is hot, and Massetti captures that well.
But part of my interest lies in the contradiction at the heart of the film. I’m sure I couldn’t have articulated this at the time, but my sense is that the film deconstructs the male gaze. And I mean that in the philosophical sense (not the popularized sense that drives me crazy — more on that someday): both the visuals and parts of the story are clearly informed by male desire, but the character — her place in the world, her choices, her inner monologue — simultaneously challenge and critique that desire.
It made enough of an impression on me that, just a couple years back, I went hunting for a copy of the film, just to see if I remembered correctly. (It turned out to be fairly difficult; I had to buy a bootlegged DVD from some random guy overseas.) And, in fact, I had remembered correctly, It’s beautifully shot, and Nielsen is gorgeous. But it’s also uncomfortable to watch; the challenge to the male gaze — yes, my male gaze — was even stronger than I remembered.
Hackers
I’m not sure I can explain why I love Hackers so much. Almost everything about it is just silly — related loosely to real hacker culture (phone phreaking, dumpster diving, TV-station hacking, etc.), but visualized in painfully awkward ways. The hackers are all high schoolers whose fashion is so stylized and bizarre I can’t imagine how they’d not be bullied relentlessly. The Secret Service agent is a bumbling idiot (does his name really have to be “Dick”?). Much of the climax of the film involves technobabble mixed with exposition (“Rabbit, flu shot, someone talk to me!”). Painful to watch. And yet…
I still watch it from time to time. The structure of the film is sound; the conflict is clear, the main characters compelling. There’s something about a bunch of renegade high schoolers simultaneously sticking it to The Man and saving The Man’s ass. It’s just fun.
Also: Angelina Jolie. (Have I mentioned the male gaze?)
The thirteenth floor
The Thirteenth Floor had the misfortune of coming out a couple months after The Matrix. I don’t remember how long The Matrix was in theaters, but I remember watching both films on the same day at the same multiplex.
I almost didn’t see it; the title made me think it was a horror film, which I’m not a fan of. But, like The Matrix, it’s science fiction, and it explores a similar question (at least, the question that I found central to The Matrix, until the sequels shut down that line of inquiry): given the power of advanced technology, how would we know if we’re in the “real” world or a simulation?
This is, of course, a fairly mainstream question now (witness Elon Musk’s simulation theory, which argues that our very existence suggests that “we are most likely in a simulation.”) But there was clearly something in the water in 1999, when the two films came out.
On top of all that, The Thirteenth floor was a beautiful film, the “virtual world that the protagonist visited was 1930’s Los Angeles. I love the film, but I wonder what might have happened if it had beat The Matrix to the punch.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead
Shortly after seeing the movie version of Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead for the first time — probably another VHS rental — I ran out and bought a copy of Hamlet and of the script of Stoppard’s play (not affiliate links). I reread Hamlet, and then rewatched the movie, identifying the places where Rosencrantz and Guildenstern found themselves intersecting with Shakespeare’s play.
And then I worked my way through the film yet again, the script of the play open in my lap, noting the changes he’d made when adapting his play for the screen. As I recall, he shuffled things around a little and added a few physical gags — things that would work on film, but not on stage…. It gave me hours — nay, days — of enjoyment, as well as a renewed appreciation of Shakespeare and a deep respect for Stoppard, whose wordplay is unmatched.
(Incidentally, Stoppard is over 80 and has a new play set to open on the West End at the end of January.)
Memento
Of course, Pulp Fiction comes to mind when thinking about non-linear narratives. And in many ways, Tarantino’s film is much more complex in its effects than Memento. But Memento’s marriage of the non-linear form with the experience of the character is unmatched.
Some critics dismiss the conceit — chunks of narrative presented in reverse order to mimic the experience of a protagonist who can’t make new memories — as a gimmick. Though Roger Ebert enjoyed the film (“a diabolical and absorbing experience”), for example, he dismissed the broken narrative as a “device” that “does not reflect the way Leonard [the protagonist] thinks.” He’s right; it’s not how Leonard thinks. But the device does parallel how the character feels; our disorientation and confusion are not precisely Leonard’s, but they echo his experience. And, in the end, isn’t that what empathy is?
Now… where was I?
C’est tout!
I could probably go on for weeks, but I guess I have to draw the line somewhere. Stopping at a total of 17 films is no more or less arbitrary than stopping at 20 would be — or 25, or 27, or 33. These are just the films that I listed in my initial brainstorm session as I whittled the number down to ten films that had an impact on me.
One thing I, at least, find interesting in these lists (both the original 10, but especially the honorable mentions): There is no necessary correlation between impact and quality. Many of the films I list are great films — The Matrix, Blade Runner, Midnight Run, etc. But I don’t know that I’d recommend them all. More important, a lot of movies I consider to be great aren’t on the list because I wouldn’t say they had an impact on me — Citizen Kane, The Godfather, Being John Malkovich… That list — a list of great movies, of movies I love — would be much, much longer.
Just out of curiosity… are there any movies you wouldn’t say are great, but that still had an impact on you? List them in the comments below!
This is part of a series, echoing the “10 Day Movie Challenge” that I got sucked into on Facebook:
Every day I must select an image from a film that has impacted me in some way, present it without a single explanation and nominate somebody to take the challenge by starting his/her own post and selecting someone to continue.
Without a single explanation? Nice try.
Previous posts:
- #day1 – For your eyes only
- #day2 – Wait until dark
- #day3 – Blade runner
- #day4 – Flashdance
- #day5 – Star wars
- #day6 – The aristocats
- #day7 – Life of Brian
- #day8 – Ghost in the shell
- #day9 – Midnight Run
- #day10 – The matrix