Then and Now

For this month’s post, I decided to participate in a fun blog hop hosted by The Armchair Squid, Suze, Nicki Elson and Nancy Mock called Then and Now, where we’re supposed to watch a movie we loved when we were younger and see what we think of it now. Little did I know that the exercise would prove to be a lot more challenging than I expected. Why? You ask. What could be so hard about watching a movie and talking about it?

Well, first of all, there was the issue of choosing the film. My first impulse was to select a movie from one of my favorite directors, John Hughes, but as you can see here, I’m pretty much obsessed with the man, so how could I rewatch his films with fresh eyes when I never outgrew them? I went through a list of non-Hughes films and there were a few that I recalled fondly that I hadn’t seen in ages, but I was confronted with another problem: FEAR.

As I mention in this post last year, I have become a lot more critical of films and books since I started to write. As my expectations have grown, it’s increasingly difficult to find stories where I can lose myself and not think about what the director or writer were trying to do. My fear when watching a once-beloved film was that I would realize that it was not as wonderful as I remembered, and that nostalgia wouldn't be enough to forgive all the film’s flaws.

I pondered for a few days about movies that I used to like but wouldn’t be overly devastated if I discovered all their imperfections and I finally picked one that:

1) I was desperate to watch when it came out, but had to wait a few years due to my age;
2) was incredibly popular during my childhood years; and,
3) I hadn’t seen in a VERY long time.

So without further ado, I bring you...

Flashdance, for those who haven’t seen it, is the story of an 18-year-old girl who is a welder by day and dancer by night. She lives in a warehouse-turned-apartment with her massive dog and dreams of becoming a ballerina. The problem is she’s a self-taught dancer who doesn’t have the education nor the references to enter the prestigious dance school of her dreams. Her best friends also have goals of their own: one longs to be a professional ice skater while another one is a short-order cook who wants to become a stand-up comedian. As Alex witnesses her friends’ dreams collapse, she must find the strength to go along with hers, even it means swallowing her pride and having to face rejection.

My first reaction when I watched the film again was excitement over the soundtrack. My friends and I used to sing these songs to the top of our lungs (even though we didn’t know what exactly we were saying) and we used to play the tape over and over again during our first dance parties. I am convinced that a big part of Flashdance’s appeal was the music.

The second thing I noticed was how young Jennifer Beals was (I'd thought the character was in her twenties, but she was only eighteen). I also questioned details I'd never considered before: Where is Alex’s family? How did she become so independent at such a young age? How did she meet her mentor, Hanna, the lady who encourages her to apply to dance school? And how and why did her elder friend die? Last but not least, how did she learn to weld (and what on earth was she building)?

 

Another interesting observation is that this time around, her love interest Nick (Michael Nouri) didn’t seem as ancient as I remembered. When I first watched the film in my early teens, I was extremely disappointed with the actor selection (my apologies, Mr. Nouri) mainly because he was SO MUCH OLDER than the protagonist, but now I realize he HAD to be older in order to be her boss and help with her audition.

The other detail that blew my mind was how many sexual comments between Alex and Nick I had missed when I first saw the film (and how I may have been too young when I watched it!). I didn’t even think it was weird that she removes her bra in front of him!  (She probably wants to be more comfortable, I thought.)

 

Plot wise, it’s not the most complex or unpredictable story, but it follows a familiar underdog/Cinderella journey that pleases most audiences. It also offers a few positive messages. One, the 80s became a turning point for women’s fitness. In Flashdance, not only does Alex ride her bike everywhere, but she also works out at her home-gym (an impressive routine which I tried to mimic once but somehow was not as graceful as she was) and lifts weights with her friends. Two, Alex is a good role model. Despite her youth, she has a clear sense of right and wrong (something her best friend doesn’t always have). She initially declines Nick’s invitations because she “doesn’t date the boss,” she’s self-sufficient, doesn’t allow men to disrespect her and saves her best friend from ending up in a strip club for the rest of her life. In addition, she has sophisticated tastes like going to the ballet with her elder friend and eating lobster (in a very provocative manner!) But the best thing is that the film sends an encouraging message about following our dreams no matter how far-fetched and difficult they may seem.

In the end, I’m happy to report that I still found this film enjoyable.

 

What do you think of it?

Before Sunrise, Before Sunset and Before Midnight: A Love Story Told in 18 Years

Warning: this review contains spoilers.

Most romantic stories only take a couple of hours to reach a happy resolution and rarely does the viewer get a chance to revisit the characters a few years later. This is not the case of Celine and Jesse, the protagonists of the nineties cult film Before Sunrise.  At a time where most romantic films follow a predictable formula and many viewers may feel manipulated with plot elements they’ve seen again and again: airport tension (analyzed in detail here), contrivances and misunderstandings, the trilogy of Before Sunrise, Before Sunset and Before Midnight is absolutely refreshing.

What’s different about this trilogy is that each of these films take place in the course of one day. All three movies use dialogue (and the passage of time) to move the story forward, they all have beautiful European scenery and the characters must make a decision by the end of each film. What’s also unique is that each film in this trilogy is produced at a nine year interval. Therefore, the characters have grown (in many cases with the audience) and their lives have entered different stages of life with their subsequent problems. I’ve never seen a trilogy that more realistically portrays life and love as these films have done.

But let’s start from the beginning, in this case: Before Sunrise (1995). Some call this a cult film. Well, I’m here to confess that I’m a member of this cult! I’m convinced that one of the reasons this story had such an impact on me was because I was at the same stage in life as these two main characters. Therefore, it was easy for me to identify with them. I mentioned in a recent post how much I admire simple stories (because it’s the opposite of what I write). Well, it doesn’t get any simpler than Before Sunrise.

Celine and Jesse falling in love in 1995

Celine (Julie Delpy) and Jesse (Ethan Hawke) are two passengers on a train to Paris. Jesse, an American, strikes a conversation with Celine, a French girl who is returning home from a trip to Budapest. The couple become quickly engaged in their talk and obviously attracted to one another. Jesse convinces Celine to get off the train with him in Vienna, where he’s supposed to catch a plane the next day to the US, arguing that in twenty years, when she’s stuck in a dull marriage, she would be wondering what would have happened if she’d picked another guy. Well, Jesse argues, this is her chance to realize that he himself (aka, “another guy”) is not that different from her future husband. Amused, Celine agrees. They spend an entire day and night walking and talking around the streets of Vienna, both knowing that they will have to say goodbye by sunrise, when Jesse has to get on his plane. Now, I know that I had mentioned “airport tension” as a cliché in fiction. However, this is real airport tension as opposed to the sudden (and very overdone) decision of one of the characters in any random romantic comedy to move to another town causing the love interest to realize he/she is about to lose the love of his/her life forever.

In Before Sunrise, the deadline is established from the very beginning and being that the story itself—their conversations and actions—are treated very realistically, we know that it’s unlikely that the film will have a fairy tale ending (though the audience may be hoping for one!)

There is, really, no plot other than how a couple falls in love and what they are going to do about it come the end of the day. But being in my early twenties at the time the film came out, I must have been its perfect target audience. For me, their conversations were absolutely engaging and reflected some of my own thoughts and concerns about relationships and life in general. The film’s ending is open ended and it takes us nine years to know what really happened.

Fast forward to Before Sunset (2004) where we encounter Jesse in Paris. He’s become a successful author and is having a booksigning of his first novel, which was inspired by his fortuitous encounter with Celine in 1995. Well, who lives in Paris? None other than Celine, who has read the book and goes to the bookstore to meet Jesse. The couple resumes where they left of nine years prior. Although they’ve both reached different stages of their lives—he’s married and has a son, and she’s an independent professional—the attraction between them remains the same and not just on a physical level. Much like in 1995, they still have a lot to say as they walk along the streets of Paris, clarifying to the viewer what really happened after the open ending of Before Sunrise. The question here remains the same, will Jesse take his plane back to his wife and kid by sunset? Again, watching the couple’s banter is most entertaining, especially because the issues they now discuss are not the same as when they were twenty-something idealists who thought they could change the world.

Things are not so sunny and cheerful when Celine and Jesse meet again in 2004

This year I had the pleasure of watching the third installment of this love story, Before Midnight (2013). Again, the characters here mimicked my own stage in life with preteen children and marital quarrels. Yet, there was still a little bit of the magic of previous films in the way Celine teases Jesse as they walk along the Greek countryside during a family vacation. But there is a deadline here too—something has set off a possible breakup and a decision is about to be made before midnight. During the day, we’re exposed to the realities of their lives beyond the romanticism of the previous films and their breakup seems like a realistic possibility as the bumps in their marriage are slowly revealed.

Perhaps the most admirable trait of these films is the character consistency. Although it’s obvious that both Celine and Jesse have grown, their personalities remain the same (and so does their banter). I have often been disappointed with sequels or soap operas where the characters become unrecognizable by the end, but I was happy to see that this wasn’t the case here. Another strength of the trilogy is the dialogue. Unlike many romantic comedies where the dialogue is sometimes contrived and serves the plot (ex: artificial fights and misunderstandings) the dialogue here is actually engaging. I find it interesting that both Ethan Hawke (a writer in addition to being an actor) and French actress Julie Delpy co-wrote the second and third films with director Richard Linklater. Well, who would know those characters better than the actors performing them?

Will Jesse and Celine make it?

Now for the films’ down side. I don’t think the sequels would appeal to viewers who haven’t watched the first one. Whereas Before Sunrise can be a stand alone film, I don’t think the other two could do the same. (Correct me if I’m wrong!) It seems to me it would be similar to watching a soap opera or drama series halfway through. The other thing is that these films seem to have a small, niche audience. I’ve often wondered if the first film would have the same appeal to me now as it did when I was in my early twenties.

For those who have watched one or all the trilogy, do you think the audience’s age affects the perception and appreciation of these films? Did you mind their open-endings? Would you like to see Celine and Jesse again in nine years?

Ethan Hawke, Julie Delpy and director Richard Linklater writing Before Sunset.

The Genius of Alfred Hitchcock (and what writers can learn from him)

by Lorena

The other day an old college friend of mine invited me to the Hitchcock Film Festival in a downtown theater I thought had closed down years ago. This art-deco building (circa 1927) has been presenting some of Alfred Hitchcock’s most famous films every Friday night for the last two months.

The movie we watched was Rope (1948) with James Stewart. It’s already been three weeks since I saw it and I’m still thinking about it. Funny because that same weekend I watched Gravity—an expensive display of special effects that Hitchcock could have only dreamed about—and a story that values life above all (almost the exact opposite of Hitchcock’s film).Yet, the movie that keeps popping into my head is Rope, one of Hitchcock’s lesser-known films and produced 65 years ago. Perhaps if I explain more, you’ll understand why this film impacted me.

Rope was inspired by a famous murder trial from the 1920s. Two affluent college students decide to kill one of their classmates for the simple thrill of killing. As followers of Nietzsche’s philosophy, they believe themselves to be intellectually superior to other mortals and therefore, above the moral laws of “ordinary” men. They think they can plan and execute the perfect crime and, to make it more thrilling, they hide the corpse inside a chest of books and invite the victim’s friends and parents to a dinner party. In very Hitchcock fashion, they set the dinner buffet on top of the chest. 

James Stewart plays the clever schoolmaster who inadvertently instilled this philosophy in the two murderers. Of course, one of the guys is terrified of getting caught, but the other one seems to almost want his former teacher to discover them so he can admire their “masterpiece” crime. The success of the film is in the juxtaposition of tension (anyone could open that chest since the hinge is broken), dark humor (not only in the party set up but also in the dialogue), the motive for the murder (I’ve never heard of something more original) and the Big Question of whether or not the guys will get caught.

The infamous chest where Philip (far left) and Brandon (far right) hide their friend's body

But this film was fascinating in both content and form. The entire story develops in real time, in one single setting, and the cuts are nearly unperceptive—one continuous scene with very subtle transitions (Hitchcock focuses on a jacket or an ornament to make his cuts seamless.) It’s no surprise that the film was adapted from a play. In addition to this novelty, we have another element that struck me as original: the camera tells its own story. 

Let me explain without ruining the film for those of you who’d like to watch it. Have you noticed how in children’s picture books sometimes there is the story the text tells you, but there are minor stories that you can only see in the illustrations? (this is where a very talented illustrator can thrive). Well, Hitchcock does something similar twice. While the characters are speaking, the camera is moving around them or is focused on another object, making the conversation inconsequential and the visual action what really matters. This is something I haven’t seen in contemporary film making. When dialogue is present in a film, it always supersedes anything that may be going on in a scene. 

Because I have a tendency to write complex novels with abundant characters, I always admire writers and directors who can tell simple stories. The plot here is simple: will the guys be successful at hiding their crime?

So here are some of the lessons I learned (as a writer) from this film:

1. It’s okay to write a story that develops in a short amount of time (and how challenging that is!) 
2. People can have the strangest motives for committing a murder (and the more original, the better).
3. Keeping the tension in a story is key.
4. Add humor whenever you can (even if it’s dark). 
5. Plot twists and complicated storylines are not always required to write a gripping tale.
6. Build a complex backstory (even if you don’t mention all the details) and the story and characters would seem more realistic and believable.
7. For your ending, keep your audience guessing until the last possible moment.
8. Suppress the desire to make your main characters a) always sympathetic, and b) always safe. Let them make mistakes.

And here are some of the lessons I learned (as a human):

1. Life is extremely fragile and can end in an instant.
2. There are a lot of crazy people out there.
3. Never befriend someone who admires Nietzsche! 

And just for fun (and because I like lists) some of the trivia I learned about this film:

1. James Stewart was not happy with this role.
2. Hitchcock originally wanted Cary Grant for Stewart’s role, but he declined.
3. The real-life case which inspired this film, Leopold and Loeb, was never discussed or acknowledged by Hitchcock to any of his writers or cast members. 
4. The attorney who defended Leopold and Loeb, Clarence Darrow, delivered one of the most famous speeches there is against capital punishment—and saved their lives. Both got sentenced to life in prison (plus 99 years each for kidnapping).
5. According to several online reviewers and the scriptwriter himself, there is a homosexual undertone in the film between the main characters (Leopold and Loeb were allegedly a couple). This may have been the reason why the film didn’t do so well in the box office and why Stewart was not entirely happy with it. 
6. This film is said to have been a reaction to WWII and Hitler’s belief in the superiority of one race (man) over another. 

Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, the inspiration for Hitchcock's film

Are you a Hitchcock fan? Do you think there's a contemporary director who compares with him?

Superman Then and Now

Warning: this review contains spoilers for both Superman (1978) and Man of Steel (2013)

In what seems to be a never-ending obsession with superheroes and their infinite sequels and remakes, this summer brings us a new Superman version for our viewing pleasure. I’m sure this long-awaited remake will be enjoyed by millions with its extravagant display of special effects and attractive actors and actresses. But for the more discerning crowds and/or loyal fans of the Christopher Reeve version, is it worth their time? Does it offer anything new?

Let’s start at the beginning, which in this case is the prologue. In the 1978 film, perhaps the most popular version of this story, Superman/Kal-El’s father was portrayed by none other than the legendary Marlon Brando—a hard act to follow, but the 2013 version does not lag far behind with Russell Crowe in the role of Jor-El. As audiences have become more impatient with time (or so they tell us writers) the opening sequences are action-packed. Superman’s mother is in the midst of a hard delivery while planet Krypton faces a revolution and impending destruction. What a contrast with the static scenes of the 1978 version where the council discusses endlessly the insurrection plans of General Zod (and his two most loyal followers) and condemns them to the Phantom Zone. The Ruling Council is also skeptic of Jor-El’s announcement that their planet will explode in a matter of minutes. In both versions, baby Superman is deposited inside a space capsule on route to Earth, with the hopes that he will survive the blast. Of course, the technology and special effects of the 2013 version supersede the older version, but I personally found Kal-El’s 1978 star-shaped capsule more appealing.

Entering the next chapter in Superman’s life is where the major differences in both films come into play. In the earlier version, we follow the endearing toddler from the time he (dramatically) lands on Earth and meets his new parents, to his teenage angst and struggles. Once he discovers the Fortress of Solitude and talks to a hologram version of his real father, he understands his life’s purpose and lands a job at the Daily Planet to become clumsy reporter by day, superhero by night. This sequence is relatively painless and entertaining. Mostly, it gives us an opportunity to meet and love Clark Kent, even before his superhero days begin.

Man of Steel takes us from the destruction of Krypton to another action sequence where the adult/nomadic Clark Kent saves the crew of a fishing boat from an explosion. In jolting flashbacks, we learn throughout the film the events that took place during his childhood and teenage years, his relationship with his adoptive father and the bullying he was subjected to at school. In a similar fashion to Christopher Nolan’s Batman, a bearded, rough-looking Kent is trying to find himself in this world, and apparently doesn’t belong anywhere until he lands in the Arctic where an important discovery has been made—a Kriptonian space ship guarded by the U.S. Military. The courageous, potty-mouthed Lois Lane is on the front lines peeking at Kent and following him into the Fortress. Yes, Superman fans, the sacred place of Kal-El’s first meeting with his father and his understanding of his true self and meaning is being witnessed and nearly broadcasted by the media!

This marks the biggest difference in the retelling of this story. Lois knows from day one Superman’s identity. Incidentally, this was my biggest disappointment with the film. Sure, it was hard to believe that a pair of thick glasses, a different hairdo and a slight stutter were enough to fool Lois for so long, but the game was fun for the viewer. At least, this viewer. And honestly, wasn’t it harder to believe that Superman could go back in time and change the present? But we bought it nonetheless.

Man of Steel dispenses with Lex Luther and all the events of Superman I, and moves (somewhat) to the plot of Superman II, where Kal–El’s compatriots come after him and generate a grand-scale war that threatens the existence of all humanity. As though following the recipe of every action movie of the last decade, the stakes are high. Real high. World-wide high. And it only takes one to solve them and save human-kind through endless fight-sequences, explosions and building-crashing. The resolution is predictable. The first kiss with Lois Lane, expected. But even more cringe-inducing was the moment when a female captain of the U.S. Army calls Superman “hot” or the fact that Lois has transformed herself into Superwoman to fight the alien race hand in hand with Superman.

And she is everywhere.

No matter what corner of the city Superman lands in his large-scale fist fight with Zod, Lois will find him. Makes us question who the real hero of the film is.

Whereas the heroine seemed like a 21st century cardboard character, Zod was a refreshing departure from the typical, one-dimensional villain of most action films. Zod’s motivation is clear. He wants to save what’s left of his people in spite of the casualties and find a new world for them to inhabit. His goal (survival of his species) was higher than the selfish plots for power that Lex Luther often engineered.

So if you want a more dynamic, bigger scale, less cartoonish version of Superman, watch Man of Steel—it certainly fulfills the checklist of its genre. But if you’re a traditionalist and/or enjoy slower paced films with moments of humor and tenderness, then Superman is for you.

What do you think makes superhero films so popular? Do you think producers and audiences will ever grow tired of them?

Who would you rather be saved by?

My pick!