Showing posts with label bill murray. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bill murray. Show all posts

12 Christmas Viewings




FILM/TELEVISION

Discovering the Real Meaning of Christmas Movies


I went through that period in my life where I just groused about the undiscerning quality of so many holiday entertainments and I allowed it to put me off the holdiays, but as I lived longer and learned not to be a grouchy jerk ALL the time, I came to apply my understanding of quality in the media arts to Christmas the same way I did with anything else.  There may be a mountain of garbage in your way, but there's always something good for the people who inform themselves enough to stray from the path occasionally.

This should, in no way, be interpreted as a "Best of" list.  This is simply what I chose to watch this year.  Next year, I'll watch some of the same things, and some I won't.  Some are old traditions.  Some are new.  Some aren't going to be traditions at all, or maybe they just need a break.  Traditions are only as useful as their meaningfulness in our current lives, and when they lose their meaning, it's time to air them out.


A Charlie Brown Christmas -1965

It's been a few years since I've seen this, but it turned out to be the perfect complement to my holiday mood this year.  For weeks, I've had Vince Guaraldi's "Christmas Time is Here" looping through my head, and I drift toward the inevitable on a drowsy blanket of melancholy.  I had forgotten how much of that mood I shared with Charlie Brown in this first animated Peanuts special.

After who-knows-how-many times that I've seen it, A Charlie Brown Christmas still had surprises for me.  I'm not sure what language to use to describe something that might seem dated by the standards of today's audiences, yet remains wildly progressive because most children's entertainment today is beyond moronic.  The Peanuts gang don't talk like children, of course, but I didn't know that when I was a kid, which could explain a few things about how I turned out.  When you realize how much we're underselling our kids, you get just the tip of the iceberg of how much we're underselling our society.  See what I mean?



A Christmas Horror Story -2015

I was thinking last year that I might add a horror movie to my holiday repertoire.  The Finnish "Rare Exports" was interesting, but didn't fit the bill.  This just might.  The semi-anthologized format really works here, allowing the film to touch on different aspects of both horror and Christmas, while making sure that no one story overstays its welcome.  In between acts, we get snippets of William Shatner, which is like buttery-rich icing on the cake.  It's not the goriest, but it does get bloody, and bloody good fun.



Trading Places - 1983

Trading Places is one of the all-time great Christmas movies and I will fight the grandmother of anyone who disagrees.  It's A Christmas Carol and It's A Wonderful Life and Robin Hood and The Book of Job and Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd at the tops of their game in a fable that still feels timely and true.  Top of their games?  Tops of their games?  I'm saying they were both energetic and fully committed to their comically archetypal roles.  It's also packed with terrific character actors and Jamie Lee Curtis in her first big post-slasher role.

The story is timeless, although the film will feel dated to candy-ass millennials -- particularly with regard to political correctness.  The events may span from Thanksgiving to New Years, but it's all Christmas.



A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas - 2011

Now me, I love the Harold & Kumar series.  When it was announced that they were doing a third one, and that it would be a Christmas movie, I was excited, but very cautiously so.  The second H&K, while hilarious, had been a little too much like the first, with a little too little development for the characters.  And of course adding Christmas to something is usually desperate and ill-fated.  Fortunately, the creators actually made the effort, and the result is a solid series entry that totally holds its own AND pleases its audience.  Funny, raunchy, smarter than it acts and sweeter than you'd guess.  I have watched this every holiday season since it came out and it's always a high point in the holiday viewing schedule.



Die Hard -1988

I, personally, like Die Hard 3 the best (Sam Jackson, duh), but that's the only (real) Die Hard movie NOT set at Christmas, so at Christmas, we watch Die Hard.

It's not a great Christmas movie per se, but it's great, and it IS a Christmas movie no matter what anyone tries to tell you.



Arthur Christmas -2011

I didn't think I was going to like this movie.  As it turns out; I love it.

By portraying a family who has passed down the "Santa Claus" identity across generations, it parallels the growth of commercialism in Christmas, and the way that that has diminished its meaning.  In so doing, it serves as a greater cultural metaphor.

But more importantly, it's wild fun and frequently very funny.  Arthur, second son and black sheep of the Claus family is an epic screw-up, but of course he has the heart and soul that the family's militarized gift-delivery operation is lacking.  His earnest faith in the meaning of Santa forms the gravity around which all the heart, hilarity and hi-jinks orbit.  This is animation suitable for adults, especially since many jokes, references and Britishisms will whiz right past the young'uns. 

This film runs deep with quality and talent.  The cast is no joke with James McAvoy, Jim Broadbent, Bill Nighy and Hugh Laurie as the men of Claus, and several other names and nominees in supporting roles.  It would be easy to dismiss it, but that would be like getting yourself a lump of coal for Christmas.  Why would you do that?  Do you hate yourself?  Are you filled with shame?



Scrooged - 1988

Scrooged enjoys a fairly good reputation because it is one of the most fun adaptations of Dickens' Christmas Carol.  That's not saying a lot because, confidentially, I don't think most people actually enjoy A Christmas Carol as much as you, or they, might think.  It's pretty turgid and heavy-handed (Hello, Dickens), the good parts are rarer than you remember, and even if you hadn't seen it a million times, it's just about as predictable as a Swede-penned mechano-pop radio ditty.  That being said, the formulaic morality tale has made it fodder for a vast array of adaptations.  Come to think of it; is there a more adapted tale?  With all the adaptations that there have been (say... Mr. Magoo, The Muppets, Susan Lucci, I assume Urkel did it at some point...), very few of them have been even a little bit good.  It's always been a cheap public domain story for sit-coms, cartoons and basic cable to fall back on.  Many of them try to be funny and of course few of them truly are.  So it's among that peer group that Scrooged shines, but in most other ways, it's somewhat mediocre.

It's not career-retrospective material for Bill Murray.  He feels like he's half-assing his way through this one, and not in that good way.  Despite its themes of seeking authenticity in Christmas, the whole film feels disingenuous.  It's a big, overblown Christmas pageant spectacular, really, with a conference room full of guest actors in bit roles.  That makes it fun, but it doesn't really strengthen the viewer's connection to the characters, and the characters are so thin that they really could have used the help. 

The film could easily have lost one under-developed subplot and it would have been a benefit.  My vote is for the business rival played by John Glover, although I could also let go of the Bob Goldthwait story which felt redundant (splitting the Bob Cratchet character into Alfre Woodard and Goldthwait as recipients of Scrooge/Frank Cross' indifference and cruelty, respectively).  It didn't know what to do with Goldthwait until the story needed him again, so following Frank's cruelty to him, the world just continued to knock him down (while meaningful parts of his story take place off screen).  It seems gratuitously cruel, and that's far from the only time.

And that's really the biggest problem with Scrooged.  No, it's not AS funny as it should be with that cast.  But more than that, it's cold.  The big emotional breakthrough at the end couches itself in the rejection of crass, commercial Christmas, but it is SO crass, saccharine and ham-fisted that the movie almost feels like a shaggy dog story.  On top of the convenience with which all subplots were supposedly redeemed, Murray fakes his way through a finale that either wasn't written or he didn't like.  It was as trite and perfunctory as the last three minutes of a Scooby-Doo episode, and as awkward as a PBS pledge break.

I'm not saying there's nothing to like about Scrooged!.  But I am writing this down now so I'll remember not to let it haunt my Christmases future.



A Very Murray Christmas - 2015

This is a much better way to spend Christmas with Bill Murray.  Not a perfect way, but a better way.  Murray's holiday special about a holiday special finds him wracked with self-doubt and feeling hopeless on Christmas Eve.  It's a slow start to an old-fashioned variety special, but it manages to wedge in the show's high point, as Murray takes casual-acquaintance Chris Rock captive for the most awkward Christmas duet since Bowie met Crosby.

Once the "show" falls apart and the show moves to the bar, it finally builds up a good head of steam.  It's the dressed-down Christmas pageant spectacular befitting the 21st century Murray.  In many ways, it felt like an almost-suitable heir to the traditional Christmas Eve episode of Letterman.  Paul Shaffer is Murray's sidekick and musical director, whether Murray is on TV, in the bar, or passed out and dreaming of fellow Letterman "TV friend" George Clooney.  It played a lot like one of the unrehearsed "bits" that Murray used to do for Dave.

On the one hand, I haven't been able to whole-heartedly endorse A Very Murray Christmas due to its rough spots like the slow first act and some very unpolished performances in places, but now, having re-watched Scrooged! for the last time, on the other hand, that roughness is becoming much more attractive in the light of Scrooged!'s excessive, artificial sheen.

I wasn't sure I would watch it again, but in retrospect, I may not have watched it the right way.  It would be better with friends... and some spiky egg nog (let's face it, you'll switch to whiskey after the first nog), gathered around a coffee table playing games, enjoying the glow of the roaring fire and good friends' laughter.


Christmas Eve

It's a Wonderful Life - 1946

When a tradition is as rich and meaningful as this one, you don't need to replace it.  I know it has a convoluted history of doing poorly in theaters and disappearing until it fell out of copyright, at which point it became ubiquitous Christmas Eve viewing.  That just makes me love it more.  This was a morality tale about the American heart that needed to be revived and preserved.  This is a story that we need to tell ourselves as often as possible; that caring about people is good and that greedy old bastards are bad.

But it's more than that.  It's... everything.  It's a Wonderful Life incorporates a startlingly broad map of human emotion.  That's why we've all had that conversation about noticing something new in it on a third, or thirtieth, viewing.  It's hope and heartbreak, guilt and pride, joy and loss, restraint and passion, humor and earnestness.  Come on, you KNOW that scene with the phone is sexy as hell.

And there's that inescapable truth about it.  Yes, the little guy who cares for others does get the shaft, and we know that's wrong.  In fact, that's part of the reason we keep coming back to it.  We WANT to be George Bailey.  We WANT to be good, to give and care until we're spent... but then we want to know that someone will have our back the way the town finally stood up for George.  We want that, but we know that the world doesn't work that way, and we give up.  Not like George on the bridge.  That's a metaphor for the way we give up in our hearts.  We become the townspeople; needy and grabby and too scared to listen.  We check in with It's a Wonderful Life once a year to see if we've become a bunch of George Baileys yet... and we find a world that more closely resembles Pottersville.

Maybe if we watch it for another thousand years or two, we might pick up on the town coming together in the spirit of generosity.  I mean, surely we'd eventually learn some decency from a two thousand year old Christmas story, right?



The Late Show with David Letterman - Christmas Eve, 2014

I have been watching Letterman's late night shows since the early 80s.  Somewhere along the line, I realized that his Christmas Eve show was a tradition for me.  As the show had become a tradition for me, it was developing its own traditions.  Somewhere along the line, Paul Schaffer was allowed to indulge his most Phil Spector fantasies and bring Darlene Love in to sing Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) and it was amazing and demanded to be repeated every Christmas until the end of time, or at least the show.  I think it was pretty early on when Paul first told his story about the Sonny & Cher Christmas Special, and I missed it if I didn't hear it every year.  After the move to CBS, the meatball on the Empire State Building on the pizza on the Christmas tree became a tradition, and then Dave & Jay Thomas' Quarterback Challenge made them part of a bigger tradition -- a tradition that includes the Greatest Talk Show Story Ever Told.

That show is gone now, but I made sure to save a copy of last year's episode.  I will be watching it every Christmas Eve for years to come.  It's a tradition.




Christmas Day

Elf -2003

Elf is an explosion of fun like the presents and wrapping paper spilled all over the floor on Christmas morning, and that's why I watch it on Christmas Day.  It takes all of the syrupy sweetness that can so often become unbearable, and makes it all work.




What a Drag It Is Getting Old

FILM:

Just lately, I happened to watch a few comic/drama movies that all deal with issues relating to old age and death.  I hadn't set out to.  They were all in my drama backlog for different reasons.  It just worked out that way.



Song for Marion - 2012
AKA Unfinished Song
Written & Directed by Paul Andrew Williams

This was on my viewing list because I was on a Gemma Arterton binge after re-watching Byzantium.  While she does deliver one of her most human performances here, it's really a showcase for Terrence Stamp more than anything else.

Stamp plays Arthur, a man of (unsurprisingly) little action and fewer words.  He loves his wife, Marion (Vanessa Redgrave) but struggles to express it.  He allows himself a very limited set of expectations, and finds he's happy enough with that life and outward appearance, which sometimes causes him to struggle to understand or appreciate the less tightly-capped lives of others.  Marion, for example, belongs to a choir group for senior citizens, which Arthur just can't understand.  He sees it as undignified, and he sometimes fumbles in his impulse to deride the group while still adoring his wife.

Arterton as Elizabeth is the school teacher who leads the choir, selecting the kind of modern music like Salt n' Pepa's "Let's Talk About Sex" and Motorhead's "The Ace of Spades" that the middle aged find youthful when sung by the old aged.  The purpose of the group is to have fun and to share fun, and that's just a concept that Arthur struggles to get his head around.

His emotional detachment has left a great rift between him and his son, whose commitment to parenting further shames Arthur, making it even harder for him to feel capable of healing the old wounds between them.  When Marion has a recurrence of the cancer she's struggled with before, it become clear that the end for her is near, and Arthur goes into a full-tilt panic.  He feels more powerless than ever, and CAN NOT face the idea of a world without Marion.  He becomes desperate to protect her, but there's no protecting to be done.  Her fate is sealed, and keeping her in bed isn't going to stop it.  Marion insists on continuing to sing in the choir, and Arthur, more unwilling than ever to leave her side, gets dragged along (with fairly predictable and heart-warming results).

While it would be easy to accuse the film of saccharine or schmaltz or other such unhealthy comfort eating, the performances really elevated it above the level of an after-school special for seniors.  In fact, it probably plays better to people who have aging parents than the aging parents themselves.  It's not hard to imagine our loved ones struggling to remain vital and engaged in their advancing years.  Redgrave brings that vitality to Marion, which makes Arthur's sense of loss palpable.  While Arthur's character is much different, I was reminded of Stamp's performance in The Limey, as a hard man with nothing much to say struggling to express the emotions he never wanted to acknowledge he had.  While The Limey allowed him to express that frustration through violence much of the time, here, Stamp is forced to internalize it, letting us witness his pain, and his pain about feeling pain.  We also discover that he has a shockingly beautiful singing voice.  Gemma Arterton frequently plays women with hard edges; femmes fatale, quite often.  Here, she has none of that.  She has enthusiasm for her work and expresses genuine concern for Arthur's pain and her kindness becomes more beautiful than her, well, beauty.  Christopher Eccelston gets the somewhat thankless role as Arthur and Marion's son James.  Despite the absence of grandstanding opportunities, he brought a kind likeability and a pain only thinly masked by bitterness to the role.  Maybe it's just me, but I've tended to associate him with so many cold and/or villainous roles that his vulnerability here was a real eye-opener.  I found myself genuinely moved by Song for Marion, both to laughter and... that other thing.




Robot & Frank - 2012
Written by Christopher d Ford
Directed by Jake Schreier

It's dark.

Nimble fingers work the lock-pick.  A figure in black slips into the house.  He starts working the place over for valuables.  He becomes more frantic, knocking over a framed photo.  It falls, the glass cracking.  The burglar looks stunned.  His face is in the photo.  It's his house.

The burglar is Frank, played by Frank Langela.  He was a cat burglar, but he's retired now, he just... forgets sometimes.  Frank forgets a lot of things these days.

Frank's kids worry about him.  His daughter Madison (Liv Tyler) video calls as after as she can, but her work takes her overseas.  His son Hunter (James Marsden) calls and drives up to see him every week or two.  Frank resents the concern (as a reflection of his shame over needing it), but he's not always sure if Hunter is a married professional with kids of his own, or a student at Princeton.  His favorite way to fill the day is to walk into town and visit the local library.  Jennifer the librarian (Susan Sarandon) gently teases him about having read the same books over and over.  Frank has a thing for her.  After the library, he likes to have lunch at his favorite cafe.  Wait, where's the cafe?  How did there get to be a Lush here?  He ate here yesterday... didn't he?  To channel his frustration, Frank shoplifts a fancy soap, but the shopkeeper is strangely suspicious of him already.  Back at home, he adds the soap to a cache of similar items.

The more his memory goes off, the more his kids worry, and the more agitated Frank gets, until one day Hunter shows up with something for his father; a robot.  The robot is programmed to keep Frank active and engaged, encouraging a healthy regimen and a consistent routine.  Frank is, shall we say, not amused, but Hunter won't tell him the password, and so, for the time being, Frank finds himself with a white plastic shadow.  It's not long, however, before he finds that the robot makes a convenient ear for his complaints.  It's not long after that that he discovers (quite by accident) that the robot isn't overly particular about the legality of shoplifting, and Frank adds another fancy soap to his collection.

This gets Frank thinking, and the thinking gets his mind back in the game. He gets more engaged in his own life and the world around him.  He develops more of a relationship with the robot, which is frankly (no pun intended) fairly narcissistic, given that the robot really only acts as an extension of Frank's needs.

Robot & Frank deals with the issue of aging, regret and (most especially) memory in many ways.  There's a major reveal late in the movie that plays a little fast and loose with memory for the sake of emotional impact, but there are other instances which it's more more balanced and thoughtful.  Frank is forced to make a decision about Robot's memory, and while the issue of their potential friendship would seem to be the more obvious cause for his turmoil, I really think that it has more to do with his pain about his own memory.  Yes, there's still a sense of empathy for the "other" for which he has developed some sort of feelings, but then the "other" doesn't HAVE emotions with which to empathize, and again, I believe much of this interaction reflects Frank's narcissism.  That doesn't make Frank a bad guy.  It just means he's scared, and not without cause.

Peter Sarsgaard brings a pretty strong "I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that" tone to the robot's voice, which kept me wondering what he might eventually do.  It straddles the line between calming, and disturbing-because-it's-so-determined-to-be-calming, which I'm not sure is as effective as it should be.  In fact, it was so unsettling that I thought it was Michael Emerson (Lost, Person of Interest) until the credits.

One interesting discovery in Robot & Frank is that Frank Langella has a charming side.  I've gotten so used to his playing villains, heavies and other emotional pressure cookers that I was completely unprepared for how disarming he could be.  Given his responsibility for carrying the film, that quality transfers to the overall product in a highly effective way.




Get Low - 2009
Written by Chris Provenzano & C Gaby Mitchell
Directed by Aaron Schneider


Some actors spend their careers playing a wide variety of characters, putting on accents and trying to lose themselves in the character.  Robert Duvall isn't that kind of actor.  He's rarely done accents, and rather than going wide, he goes deep.  thoughtful southerners with great depth of character.  His characters needn't be specifically southern, but he brings that to them, and whether they're outwardly reserved or gregarious, these things cover and tap a deep well of personal character buried inside of them.  That depth gets an incredible opportunity to stretch its legs once more in Get Low.

Because I had originally added Get Low to my viewing list in the fits of a Bill Murray view-a-thon, it had completely slipped my mind that Robert Duvall was in it when I finally sat down to watch it, for for the first ten minutes or so, I could not identify who was behind the unruly beard and taciturn demeanor of the old country hermit.  Duvall plays Felix Bush, the backwoods hermit in 1930s Tennessee.  Felix is the stuff of local legend.  Kids dare each other to break windows in his cabin, and adults in town gossip about his history.  Did he kill someone?  Did he kill a LOT of someones?  You heard he robbed banks?  I heard something even worse.

When the local preacher visits (at considerable risk to his well-being) to tell him that one of his old associates has passed on, it serves as a conduit for Felix to confront the looming specter of his own mortality.  He hitches the cart to his cantankerous old mule (kindred spirits, no doubt) and ambles up the main street of town to discuss his own funeral arrangements with the parson.  Laying a grubby wad of "hermit cash" on the table, Felix grills the preacher about what he'd say in his memory.  The evasive response which dances around his reputation does not please Felix, and the wad of cash is gruffly withdrawn.  In an economic bit of narrative, there is another family coming into the church on their own business.  The young husband happens to work for the local funeral home, so he picks up on Felix's desires to plan a funeral as well as his dissatisfaction with the church.  His stepmother just happens to be a pivotal figure from Felix's past with whom he's reluctant to engage.  To cap things off, one of the locals decides to demonstrate his manhood by hurling insults and threats at the old man of rumors, and find himself with the "stuffing" kicked out of him in short order.

The young man, Buddy, reports back to Frank Quinn (Bill Murray), the owner of the funeral home, that the notorious old mountain man is looking for a funeral with a wad of cash, and they travel out to the homestead to make their pitch.  Getting a look at the place, Frank immediately promotes Buddy to sales associate and sends him in alone.  Felix's reputation once again becomes a topic of conversation, which gets the old man to thinking.

After the initial reluctance inherent to his character, Felix arrives at a plan.  He wants to plan his funeral.  It should be, he decides, a party, with food, music and the sharing of every story that anyone had ever heard about him.  If that meant gathering the people of four counties, then so be it.  Oh, and one more thing; he wanted it while he was still alive.

Through the process of planning Felix's funeral party and dealing with all of the issues that he and the town had with each other, peeks at his history emerge, hinting at why he sealed himself off from the world some 40 years prior, what his relationship with Miss Mattie (Sissy Spacek) had and had not been, and who the woman was in the old photograph that he talked to at night.  He has his own story to tell, but his own laconic nature, and ultimately his shame present obstacles that seem insurmountable to him at this late hour in life.

And that's what Get Low is really about.  Felix has imprisoned himself in his solitude over the guilt and shame that he carries from his past.  It's a heartfelt and deeply moving portrait of regret turned in upon itself.  As I've been rolling it around in my head the past few days, I've found myself comparing and contrasting it to another of Duvall's greatest performances in The Apostle.   Where The Apostle's Sonny flees his past and can't resist being who he's always been, Felix becomes so trapped in the past that surrenders the gregarious character he once was to sink into solitude and the bitterness that such isolation begets.