My Favorite Films: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

Director: Michel Gondry

Context:
In the early 2000s, director Michel Gondry, known for his surreal and experimental emotional approach to filmmaking, received a suggestion for a new story:  "You get a card in the mail that says: someone you know has just erased you from their memory..."  Working with Charlie Kaufman (creator of mind-bending films such as Being John Malkovich and Adaptation), the two explored the concept of how memories affect the connections people make.

Jim Carrey was cast as the lead, marking his third major turn in a dramatic role, and his first in which he doesn't play a character with any comedic traits (The Truman Show allowed Carrey to flex his comedic muscles in a more dramatic storyline while Man on the Moon portrayed him as comedian Andy Kaufman).  This was regarded as a successful move on his part and it was my love of those previous two films that drew me to see this one.

The eventual hyper-realistic look at love and memories told within a science-fiction premise caused Eternal Sunshine to become a film that I cherish the most.  It is the best Valentine's Day film.

Plot:
After discovering that his free-spirited and impulsive ex-girlfriend Clementine (Kate Winslet) has erased him from her memory, the shy and restrained Joel (Jim Carrey) opts to have the same memory altering procedure done to forget about her.  Through the course of the procedure, as Joel revisits his memories of Clementine in a dream-like slumber, he changes his mind and fights to save one last memory of the woman he loves.

Analysis:
Eternal Sunshine is a film that requires your full attention because it is very confusingly, yet cleverly crafted.  The film doles out enough clues into how everything fits together, but it makes for a disorienting first experience.  But, because this movie is practically begging you to watch it multiple times, you are able to enjoy it whether it is your first, second, or umpteenth time through.

The first 18 minutes of the film are when the film is at it's most simple and even though the science-fiction time bending element hasn't been introduced yet (that we know of), Gondry still manages to make a charming and realistic first impression with our two main characters.  We follow Joel as he wakes up on the day before Valentine's Day.  He feels a bit lost and just shuffles through his day.  Something in him decides to impulsively skip work and take a trip to the beach in Montauk, despite the cold weather.  While there, he encounters Clementine and the two strike up a conversation on the train ride home.

It's clear from the start that Joel and Clementine are from two vastly different worlds.  Clementine dresses in loud colors with brightly colored hair and takes no issues in conversing with complete strangers.  Joel is very reserved and closed off and visibly frightened by Clementine, yet it is that panic that attracts him as well.  He notes that he falls in love with any girl who shows him the slightest bit of attention so he doesn't know what to do when Clementine throws herself at him.  They are a mismatched pair, but each provides something the other wishes they had.

This is a long time for what amounts to a pre-credits opening sequence, but it works very well because the next 18 minutes are the most confusing for a first time watcher.  We find Joel and Clementine at the end of their relationship, with Joel in tears outside her place.  He returns home in a funk while being followed by a mysterious van.  He falls asleep as the men in the van enter his home.  They hook him up to some strange device and we journey into Joel's mind.

While that sounds super gimmicky, Gondry uses that uneasiness and confusion about the situation to pique the audience's curiosity.  Joel's mind memories are presented in a stream of consciousness, dream logic style, where events combine with one another occasionally and Joel himself naturally reenacts previous moments of his life while also remembering what is happening in the present.  He knows he is getting his mind erased and we learn this in a backwards chronological order of the events of Joel and Clementine's relationship.

More confusion seeps in as we view scenes of Joel and Clem's past that don't quite line up with where we saw them at the start of the film, and it isn't until around the 36 min mark that we get definitive evidence that the scenes of Joel and Clem we saw at the start of the film where actually taking place the day after this procedure, not before.  The whole film up into this point has been told backwards.

There is more than one romance at play in this movie, though, which I thoroughly appreciated this time through.  The employees of the mind-altering service Lacuna, Inc. aren't just there to facilitate the plot.  They are fully developed characters in their own right, with their own romantic demons and desires.  Elijah Wood, Mark Ruffalo, and Kirsten Dunst use the night of the procedure to indulge in their own emotional whims, which causes issues when Joel's procedure doesn't run as smoothly as planned and he overhears some of their conversations and tries to actively resist erasing Clementine.

These moments of the film are when the movie is at it's most fun and surreal.  As Joel tries to change his memories, he continuously runs into road blocks when he encounters moments that never existed in the first place.  For example, in one memory, he had a fight with Clementine and she walks out of his car down a street.  In the actual event, he didn't chase after her, but in his mind he wants to, so he keeps following her down the sidewalk as she keeps switching what direction she's walking so he can never actually catch up with her.  It's hard to explain, but visually it feels just like a dream when the thing you want is always just out of reach.

But for as cool as the film looks and as clever as it's told, the reason this movie works as well as it does is because it feels like we are watching our own love lives play out on screen.  Anyone who has ever fallen in love can find some element of the story to identify with.  Whether it be with Joel or Clem or anyone of the Lacuna employees, we have all been in the position of suffering from the highs and lows of love.

Especially after a heartbreak, we can feel as if we would have been better off having never met the object of our desires, and this film just presents us with the "be careful what you wish for" scenario that we've never really seen played out in a film as accurately confusing as this one does.

The Ending:
Despite having watched this film twice before, I had actually completely forgotten how it ended.  I knew that the original script was going to show that Joel and Clem had gotten the procedure done many times and were just trapped in this cycle of meeting and forgetting, which is a cute idea, but it kind of takes away from this uniqueness of having it done once.

Instead, we have Kirsten Dunst's character Mary reveal the truth to Joel and Clem by way of sending all of Lacuna's patient's their file and tape recordings of describing why they want to forget the person they have opted to forget.  Joel and Clem each receive their tapes on Valentine's Day after their wonderful day of meeting each other again.  They are basically presented with a vision of the future, everything that will go wrong in their relationship should they choose to have one.  It's unpleasant and bizarre, but showing some growth, the two decide to take a chance anyway.

It's an ultimately optimistic message for this story to take.  Yes, we want to forget and avoid those that have hurt us.  But 'tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.  No relationship is going to be perfect, but they are all worth the risk.

Final Thoughts:
There is so much going for this film.  I'm a fan of Gondry and Kaufman's heady films that cause you to ponder the inner workings of the mind.  I'm a fan of Carrey opting for dramatic, realistic roles.  And I'm just a fan of Winslet, Wood, Ruffalo, and Dunst in general.  Every aspect of this film works perfectly.  There are so many cool, little touches that you could spend a day dissecting each one.  But the beauty of the film truly lies in the fact that despite how surreal it is, it feels so real.

Gondry allowed his actors to behave naturally and virtually improvise scenes while he quietly controlled the camera operators to catch new and unexpected moments.  There is a common theme of genuine confusion and surprise that crops up when reading the behind-the-scenes trivia for this film.  Winslet playfully punches Carrey hard in the arm during their train scene, Ruffalo pops out of a different corner for each take to scare Dunst, and an impromptu scene is filmed when a parade just happened to be going through New York and Carrey and Winslet just enjoy it moments before Winslet secretly loses herself in the crowd.  We are seeing these characters as truthfully as we can.

We see humanity in this film.  We see love.  We see sadness.  We see ourselves.  We see the relationships that we don't want.  And we see the relationships we do.  We see something that we never want to forget.  And that's why I love this film.

My Favorite Films: Scott Pilgrim vs. The World

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (2010)

Director: Edgar Wright

Context:
In the mid-2000s, cartoonist Brian Lee O'Malley started publishing entries in the Scott Pilgrim graphic novel series.  Based on his fondness for comics, video games, alt. rock music, and shonen manga, O'Malley created a romantic quest story loosely based on his own life about the character of Scott Pilgrim whose reality mimicked the hyper-virtual worlds of the aforementioned media.  There were six planned novels in the series but even after the first was released, talks of a movie adaptation were set in motion.

Edgar Wright, hot off his directorial acclaim with Spaced and Shaun of the Dead shared O'Malley's fondness for "nerd pop culture" as seen in his previous works and signed on as the director of Scott Pilgrim.  When the movie officially started production, only three novels had been published, and the movie set out to tell one complete story.  So, as novels four and five were being made, each version's story influenced the other.  The movie was in it's final stages as the sixth and final book was being created so, Wright only had limited notes to work with.  But in a weird twist of synergy, test audiences disliked the original ending to the film and a new one was created based on the soon to be published final novel.  Both were released within a month of each other, allowing for fans of one to immediately see the whole story play out in an alternate format.

While I love Edgar Wright's entire filmography, most were focused on his "Cornetto Trilogy," (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and The World's End, with his actor friends from Spaced, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost).  Scott Pilgrim vs. The World was released in between the latter two films and while I was initially bummed that Wright had taken a break to create this "fan film," I found myself loving this one the best out of all his works thus far.

Plot:
Aimless 22-year-old Scott Pilgrim finds himself caught up in the fight for his life after he meets the mysterious Ramona Flowers.  Her seven evil exes have teamed up to take him out and he must endure each battle in order to win what he is truly fighting for.

Analysis:
It's been said in the world of film that you cannot make a good "video game movie."  Every movie based on a video game has tried and failed to capture that feeling of adrenaline and problem solving that can only be experienced when playing a video game.  I feel that these films are focusing on the wrong thing and should not try to emulate a different form of media.  It should take what we love about video games and put it in movie form with what we love about movies.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World is the perfect video game movie.  And it wasn't even based on a game, specifically (although it would inspire one later).  It is also the perfect comic book movie.  It's a beautiful work of art.

Edgar Wright may just be one of the best directors in the field of comedy and style.  He was faced with a challenge of condensing six novels into one film and he used the visual flair of the graphic novel, the internal logic of a video game, and his frenetically-paced film-editing to make it all come together.  A LOT happens in this movie, but the audience never feels bloated because Wright is a master at using visual and audio tricks to convey all of the necessary exposition to his audience.

For example, text from the original graphic novels pops up on screen to introduce characters, segue between chapters, and emphasize major feelings.  Lines of animation and hidden background gags help push forward the context of every new scene.  There is no throw-away dialogue, but there is also no dull dialogue.  We learn so much about this world that by the end of the first 5 minutes, we are fully prepared to expect the unexpected.  This mimics the original story's style and it plays out really well onscreen.

The movie also has the added benefit of sound and color.  Many familiar Nintendo sounds (mostly from The Legend of Zelda series, on which Pilgrim's life his heavily influenced) pops up in the background with each sound effecting coming at just the right moment to underscore a plot point.  Wright is famous for this trick, but it never gets old.  It treats the whole film like a song, with each sound and line of speech in the exact right place.  Speaking of songs, Wright even got permission from the famously stubborn Nintendo to use these musical moments by saying that their sounds were like "nursery rhymes to a generation."

I should say that it helps that when I saw this film, I too was an aimless 22-year-old who had grown up with Nintendo as my background noise.  I was primed to appreciate every joke.  That isn't to say the whole film relies on references.  You can follow the whole plot and still understand what's happening.  These sounds and images just enhance the film to a greater quality.

Lines come at a rapid fire pace, and Wright's timing always makes sure each on lands.  These characters talk the way your friends talk (save for the evil exes who talk like standard cartoon villains, but that's the point).  And the dialogue is only heightened by the amazing cast.

While we know and love all of these actors today, a lot of them were just starting their careers when cast in this film.  Anna Kendrick, Chris Evans, and Aubrey Plaza star alongside Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Kieran Culkin, and Allison Pill (just to name a few members of the recognizable talent).  There is a definite hipster vibe to the whole proceedings and that's only further emphasized by the fact that the two "big names" for the film were Jason Schwartzman as the evil 7th ex Gideon and Michael Cera as the titular Scott Pilgrim.

Cera is perfect in this role because, as Wright noted, the film "needed someone who the audience can identify with even when he's being a total asshole."  Some people I knew disliked the film because they felt Scott Pilgrim was a jerk, and I felt that, well, yeah.  That's the point.  We want to like him because he's the hero and he's played by Michael Cera.  But he starts the film in a terrible place and he is terrible to people around him.  He doesn't (at first) really deserve Ramona as a partner.  But he must fight his way through his demons and become a stronger person.  That's his journey.

(There is a brilliant deleted scene in which Scott, towards the end of the film, narrates what he has been through thus far and he accurately describes Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey without realizing it.  It shows that for all the glitz and glamour of the film, the story is really about one person coming to terms with who he is and how he treats those in his life).

I could gush about individual moments in this film forever, so let's move to the end...

The Ending(s):
As I said earlier, this film had one original ending first.  With alternate scenes intact, Scott learns to appreciate his ex-girlfriend Knives more and he ends up with her while Ramona leaves.  Audiences hated it because, while this may have been a more realistic outcome for the characters, they felt robbed of the standard Hollywood resolution.  Scott was fighting for Ramona the whole time so he should end up with her, right?

Well, in the books, O'Malley had a hard time deciding on the ending himself.  Even after I had seen the movie, I wasn't sure what to expect.  But ultimately, Scott ends up with Ramona in both official versions.  And since that was the version I first saw, I was more inclined towards that as the "true" ending.

But upon this review, 5 years later, I noticed that my feelings had changed and I watched both endings again to see which one truly held up.  And in my mind...they both do.  Scott/Knives does make logical sense within the film.   But so does Scott/Ramona.  With Scott/Knives, we can envision another attempt at romance that may not last, but will at least end more amicably.  Scott stays put.  With Scott/Ramona, there is a sense of danger.  This one could end terribly, but Scott has decided that it's worth a try.  Scott goes into the unknown.

In both endings we get an image of an arcade final screen which isn't truly an ending.  It's a "CONTINUE?" countdown timer.  The film cuts to black before the timer hits 0, leading the audience to wonder, what does Scott ultimately do.  This to me suggests that both endings are just alternate paths that Scott could take if he chooses to "try again."  Neither is set in stone, which works perfectly for this film.

(But for the official record, I cried in the Ramona ending when Scott said "Try again?" and plus it has Scott's journey be about him fighting for himself, not for a "prize to be won," so yeah, Ramona ending all the way!)

Final Thoughts:
Have you ever watched a movie where you knew in the first second, you'd love it?  Scott Pilgrim was that movie for me.  I was hooked and I enjoyed the ride the whole way through.

A friend of mine once had discussion with me about film adaptations of books and he argued that it's better to see the film first then read the story.  The film is always going to cut stuff out and possibly leave you disappointed if you're a fan of the book.  Let the film stand as your basis and pursue the novel afterwards so you can enjoy more details and nuance in a story you already know.

That was the order I did it with Scott Pilgrim and I'm glad I made my choice.  While I feel the book series offers so much more in terms of ideas, character development, and plot threads (and I think I possibly even like it more than the movie), this film was the perfect introduction to the world of Scott Pilgrim.  I'm in lesbians with it.

My Favorite Films: Snowpiercer

Snowpiercer (2013)

Director: Bong Joon-ho

Context:
In 2005, director Bong Joon-ho came across a 1982 French graphic novel series called Le Transperceneige.  The story concerned the inhabitants of a train with 1,001 cars that travels the world after a new ice age has wiped out most of the life on Earth.  The rest of humanity struggles to survive in this confined space.  Bong was intrigued by the idea, specifically the depiction of the class struggles within this train society (which were separated car by car), and he decided to adapt the story to film.  But rather than take one of the pre-existing Snowpiercer stories, Bong created his own tale based on the themes present in the original.

The quirky film attracted a notable and diverse cast, thanks to Bong's previous cultural acclaim for his earlier works.  The filming was completed in 2012 but due to tension with the production company, the film didn't see it's U.S. release until 2014.  This makes it a very recent film to discuss, but it's just the kind of unique movie that has a lasting effect on an audience.

All it took was one viewing and I knew it would be one of my all-time favorites.

Plot:
In 2031, the passengers of a 60-car train known as the Snowpiercer travels around the globe, waiting until the man-made ice age of the past 17 years subsides and Earth is habitable again.  The inhabitants of the last cars of the train are tired of being the lowest rung on the totem pole, and a revolution led by Curtis Everett (Chris Evans) aims to lead the "Tail-Enders" to the front of the train and to take control of the engine, and their lives.

Analysis:
Snowpiercer is just the Hero's Journey.  It is the monomyth.  The single story of our species condensed to a tiny location and it follows exactly the path you'd expect it to.  But it does so with such glory and respect for the stories of our past that it becomes an entity unto itself.  And it provides just enough twists and turns that it always feels fresh.

One thing I noticed upon my reviewing of this film is that the movie is always moving forward.  Both literally, in that our hero Curtis never travels backwards in the train and only progresses from one car to the next all the way to the end, and figuratively.  Something new was always happening.  In every car, every scene, the audience learns something new about the world we find the characters in and even though it follows the emotional path of a dystopian sci-fi action movie, we are always treated with unique visuals as we follow the beats.

Let's just look at the action sequences in the film.  I'm trying to refrain from spoiling as much as I can, but the movie has three main fight scenes as the characters journey through.  But rather than just make them variations on the same fight, Bong chooses to change the stylistic backdrop and motives of each.  The first is a standard fast-paced burst of energy to simulate the oppressed's built up anger at their oppressors, the second is a haunting slow-motion battle that allows us to see each minor action of Curtis as he shifts to into full-leadership position (which is then followed by a quick fight in complete darkness, told mostly through sound), and the last is a tension-filled showdown with one of the main baddies in a mostly silent haze-filled room.  None of these scenes needed to be artistic, yet each one is beautiful.  This is just one example of how Bong puts his spin on the genre.

Every car is it's own unique environment.  While the original story had a train with 1,001 cars, Bong's train appears to be about 60 cars and yet we only see about 20 of them.  There is no realistic logic to how this train actually functions, or how each car can be so separate in style from the ones around it, but you aren't here for the realism.  You're here for the spectacle.  What's really cool about the train and the film is how perfectly each one's length complements the other.  In a 2-hour film, we spend the first half hour in the gritty tail section.  And this part looks just like every dark dystopia you see in all modern films.

Then we spend the next half hour traveling through the back half of the train, which is lifeless and soulless.  Our heros are still struggling to survive as they slowly learn more about their surroundings.  But once we hit the halfway point of the train/movie runtime, everything shifts.  The tone, the atmosphere, and the color!  Not to ruin the effect but watching this play out made me feel like what I imagine audiences of 1939 felt like when seeing Dorothy land in Oz for the first time.

Again, it's amazing how a film can be so simple and complex at the same time.

A lot of the brilliance in the story lies in one simple movie making rule.  Everything in the film should have a point.  And this story takes that to heart.  Every moment, every shot, every throwaway line is there to set up a payoff later in the film.  It's subtle and impressive because once you reach the ending, you start to get to see how all the pieces of this jigsaw puzzle fit into place.  The film even tricks you into believing you know all of the answers early on.  Even when I knew all the twists on this reviewing, I still found myself getting surprised seeing them all play out again.

There's also a lot of cool touches throughout.  I particularly appreciated that the Tail Ender group were too poor to have any technology.  So, instead of a photographer, there is a residential artist that draws charcoal drawings of significant moments for historical record.  It reminded me about the old traditions of storytelling that this movie borrows so much from.  For such a visual masterpiece of a film, this was a nice touch.

This is a movie that I encourage you just to watch, because the less you know about it, the more fun it is going in.  It makes you appreciate being a part of the human species (even for all it's faults, there is still that hope at the end).  It's a little weird in it's tone but that's because it isn't your standard Americanized sci-fi film.  It's a South-Korean movie based on a French comic book with a culturally diverse cast.  It's not an American film.  It's an Earth film.

The Ending (The Engine Car):
I don't want to spoil much of what happens at the end of this film but suffice it to say that this is a brilliant conclusion to the movie.  A lot of films of this nature can fall apart at the end but this one works all the way through.  We get a philosophical conversation between Curtis and the Engineer (Ed Harris, which, if you've seen The Truman Show should give you a hint as to exactly how this conversation will go down and, after you've seen the film, read this article for a great analysis of the historical similarities between the two).

Even though it's your standard villain explanation of his distorted world view, the Engineer actually makes a surprisingly effective argument for his train of horrors.  And, within the context of the film, it makes perfect sense.  Applied to the real world, it would fall apart like a ton of bricks, but the folks on this train don't have the luxury of living in the real world.  This makes the ending so effective because Curtis (who has the best tragic hero story I've seen in any film for....years) is actually faced with a difficult decision with no easy answers.  And he makes a decision without any knowledge of what he's doing is right or wrong.  Of course, it's a movie, and it's the right one that his character needs to make in a nice symbolic kind of way.

The delayed release of this film was based on the producers wanting to add an explanatory epilogue to what happens to the train inhabitants after all is said in done.  But fortunately Bong won out in the end and got to keep his original ending.  Because that last shot is the best way to end this film.

Final Thoughts:
This film is the essence of a story.  It's straightforward, intriguing, and enjoyable every step of the way.  There is no aspect I would want to change.  I knew coming into it that the premise of the "eternal train" was farfetched, so it allowed me to appreciate the film as it was.  It was clear that everyone involved enjoyed making this film and are proud of what they accomplished.  The best thing I can do is recommend it to everyone I can.

My Favorite Films: Big Fish

Big Fish (2003)

Director: Tim Burton

Context:
In 1998, fantasy author Daniel Wallace wrote Big Fish: A Novel of Mythic Proportions which chronicled a young man's attempts to get to know his dying father's true life story, having only grown up hearing tall tales from his old man.  The manuscript for the then unfinished novel found its way into the hands of the screenwriter John August who, while dealing with the death of his own father, found it to be the perfect basis for a film.  Steven Spielberg was initially attached to direct as fantastical metaphors dealing with father-son relationships are his bread-and-butter.  But eventually, after many script rewrites and other projects taking up much of Spielberg's time, the script was passed to Tim Burton.

Burton, known for his dark gothic style and quirky original films, had recently come off of two moderately successful big budget adaptations (Sleepy Hollow and Planet of the Apes) and was looking for a smaller return to form with his 10th directorial feature Big Fish.  As with August, Burton had also recently lost his father and he found the story to be the perfect method of handling his emotions "better than any therapist."  With the main structure of the story grounded in reality and the "tales" within offering opportunities for exaggerated fantasy, Burton was able to make this his most personal film thus far.

What resulted was a Forrest Gump meets The Princess Bride story, filled with charm, magic, wonder, and tears.  And it's my personal contender for Burton's best.

Plot:
Edward Bloom has a penchant for telling epic stories about his life, much to the growing dismay of his son Will.  When an elderly Edward starts deteriorating due to illness, Will travels home to learn once and for all who his father actually was.  Along the way, the tales of Edward's life are depicted in fantasy vignettes, each one being larger than life.

Analysis:
Big Fish is, secondly, a story about storytelling.  While the initial novel focused mostly on Greek mythology as it's inspiration, the film pulls in more sources from Arthurian legend, American tall tales, German fables, and fantasy literature such as Alice in Wonderland or The Wizard of Oz.  While no one tale of Edward's is specifically based on any singular story, there is a general familiarity to each set up that it all seems like some long lost story we heard in our childhood.

Creatures like giants, witches, and werewolves rub elbows with more realistic affairs like bank robberies, grand romantic gestures, and foreign espionage.  There is no limit to what Edward Bloom can weave into his life.  If it makes for a good story, it's included.  But if the movie were only just random tales strewn about haphazardly, it wouldn't have as much oomph to it.  Rather, each tale challenges the audience to determine the meaning behind each falsehood and to extract the nugget of truth buried within each one.

Because Big Fish is, firstly, a story about how we view our own lives.  If we look strictly at the truth (i.e. Will's point of view), we see Edward as a liar, a coward, a deadbeat father, and an adulterer.  And each story Edward tells does its best to hide his faults, but in doing so, reveals more than they intend to.  We all see ourselves as the hero of our own story and thus, tend to downplay our own bad behavior and rationalize our negative qualities.  And as moviegoers, we are trained to trust the protagonist of the story and in this case, Edward is our "hero" for a majority of the time.

In fact, the first time I saw this movie, I strongly disliked Will for being such a spoilsport and not enjoying his father's stories.  He seemed to be the "villain" of the movie.  But after looking at each story in detail, we see that Edward actually is not as great as he is trying to get us to believe.

When presented with the truth and the contradictions there-in, we get a more accurate portrayal of Edward's life.  And, thanks to the unique chronology of the film, we miss some integral character development upon the first viewing.  If we are to believe Edward's own versions of the truth, we get the following chronology of his life:

• Edward's Birth
• The Encounter with the Witch (Seeing How He Will Die)
• The Growth Spurt and Teenage Achievements
• The Visit to Spectre
• The Circus
• Meeting and Wooing Sandra
• The Korean War
• Becoming a Traveling Salesman
• The Bank Robbery (Sandra Is Pregnant)
• The Big Fish Story (Will Is Born)
• Buying His Dream House (Will Is a Child)
• Rebuilding Spectre and Buying Jenny's House (This story is told by Jenny)

It is after hearing Jenny's story that Will notes that the story contradicts the oldest story he knows in which Jenny's house is the witch's house, making Jenny the old witch from Edward's youth.  Now, this is interesting, because even though Jenny's story is told like an Edward tale, it's one that Will has never actually heard.  It's almost as if she's telling it this way to hide the truth.  She explains that while she did have feelings for Edward, he only saw two women in the world: Sandra and everyone else, so she might as well be the witch.

But let's think back for a moment to the earliest "factual" flashback in the movie.  It's when Will is a child and he is about to hear his favorite "witch" story.  In that moment, we learn that Will's mother doesn't like Edward telling that story.  But if, in Edward's version of events, he already knows that Jenny is the witch, we can see this not as a contradiction, but a deliberate attempt to shield Will from the truth at a young age.  What better way than to keep your child from snooping around your mistresses' place than by saying it's an old witch's haunted house?

It's also in the witch story that we get the "Edward sees his own death" characteristic that allows him to walk through the rest of his stories without fear and make it seem like Edward is aware of his own destiny.  He knows he'll survive dangerous events and he knows he'll marry Sandra.  This is narrator Edward speaking with the confidence of hindsight, allowing him to tell each tale with the best dramatic effect.

Changing gears before my final wrap up, I just want to point out that the care that Burton brings to each story is part of what makes this movie work so well.  The werewolf/witch portions are shot like a horror movie, the bank robbery is shot like a '70s heist, and the circus...well, the circus is just completely magical.  Nothing has stuck with me as much as the moment Edward falls in love with Sandra.  Whether or not Jenny actually factors into his love life is a debate for the next section, but the entire time-stopping sequence can only be described as pure movie magic.

When it comes down to it, I love this movie because it offers me so much to love.  It uses magical realism and the Southern Gothic landscape to pick at universal feelings.  We see those feelings of infatuation, determination, curiosity, loss, confusion, excitement, and a longing to be bigger than oneself play out with visual metaphors every step of the way.  But most importantly, this is a movie about inclusivity.  For as much as Edward Bloom is a solitary character, it is the people he meets that enrich his life.  He'd have no stories to tell if he didn't have people.  And that's what makes this story magical.

The Ending (Who Was the Big Fish Really?):

Now, I'm not saying we should walk away from this film viewing Edward as a lying blowhard.  He is a very unreliable narrator, to be sure.  I'm just pointing out that life is complicated and these stories help us to better ourselves and make sense of it all.  As I said, this movie is about how we view life and with that, I want to focus on one more thing:  What does the big fish represent?

This is the first story we hear, and it's told to explain why Edward wasn't present for his son's birth.  When Edward wraps up the story, he finishes it with a moral about how you can't catch a woman without a wedding ring, as that is what he uses to catch the fish.  Okay, so the fish represents Sandra, right?  But throughout the film, Edward notes that he's always thirsty, and he knows he's a big fish destined for a bigger world and at the end of his life story, Will returns him to the river and he becomes the fish and swims away.  Oh, so the fish represents Edward?  Huh.... BUT WAIT!  The fish appears two other times in Edward's story, both times it takes the form of a nude woman and both times, it precedes an appearance of Jenny and one of those times is after he married Sandra.

Let's look at the first story again and remember what happens.  Edward doesn't just use a wedding ring to catch the uncatchable fish.  He uses HIS wedding ring.  And who else goes after Edward even though she sees HIS wedding ring?  Jenny!  So, what does the big fish represent?  Well, from Edward's eyes, Jenny was uncatchable.  From Will's eyes, Edward was uncatchable.  The witch/Jenny's advice early in the story is that "the biggest fish in the river gets that way by never being caught."  And that's where we have to leave it.

Final Thoughts:

As you can see, I got carried away with the nitty-gritty of the film, but I love a movie that's able to allow me to do that.  Even one as deceptively simple as this one.  I didn't even get to mention the amazing cast this film has going for it.  Ewan McGregor and Albert Finney are perfect as Edward Bloom, having the necessary charm demanded by the role.  Burton rounds out the minor cast with many of his favorite actors (in very funny minor roles), but he doesn't let them steal the show from Edward, Sandra, and Will.

In watching this film, I thought a lot about the people in my life and by the full ending, seeing Edward surrounded by everyone he had ever met (even that milkman is there), I couldn't help but weep.  It made me appreciate everyone who has made my life what it is.

If there is one message to take away from this film, it's that our lives are made up of the people in it.  We are able to control how it goes, but only others are able to see the full picture.  We may never completely understand the big fish in our life, but it's important to love them for who they are.  Rewatching this film made me fall in love with all the people in my life all over again.  They are a part of my life story, they are a part of me.  Good, bad, and everything in between.

Remember those who are apart of your life story and remember those whose life story you are a part of.

My Favorite Films: Airplane!

Airplane! (1980)

Directors: Jim Abrahams, David Zucker, Jerry Zucker

Context:
In the '70s, a small comedy team comprised of Jim Abrahams, David Zucker, and Jerry Zucker decided to bring their sketch comedy to the big screen in the form of The Kentucky Fried Movie.  A series of sketches was composed, some of which were based on the oddities of late night television.  To draw inspiration for the scenes, the boys would record hours of late night television.  After the film was a modest success, the trio planned a sequel following a similar format.  The centerpiece of this sequel was going to be a long spoof based on one of the late-night movies they happened to record.  As more and more ideas were added into this long spoof, it was decided that the next film should just comprise of the "feature presentation" alone.

The recorded film in question was a 1957 drama called Zero Hour! which concerned an airline jet filled with passengers who had succumbed to food poisoning from the fish dinner offered in flight.  When the pilots also fall deathly ill, Ted Stryker (an ex-war pilot with PSTD for a faulty decision he made whilst in the war) is the only one on board with any experience to land the plane in time to save the passengers.  And he has to fix his failing love life in the process!  While the film was fairly well-received at the time, the Zuckers and Abrahams found the cheesy dialogue and melodramatic plot perfect for parody.  With airplane disaster movies being popular at the time thanks to the successful Airport franchise, Airplane! was written as a deliberate spoof.

Because the trio worked for Paramount who owned the rights to Zero Hour!, they were allowed to use the original script as a structure for their jokes, keeping budget costs low.  With only the goal of making this the most over-the-top spoof imaginable, the brothers injected the dry script with their signature cartoonish humor and wordplay.  It was a risky maneuver, but they succeeded in creating the funniest film of all time (according to science).

Plot:
Ex-fighter pilot Ted Striker follows his stewardess girlfriend Elaine onto her flight from LA to Chicago in an attempt to win her back, despite his fears of flying.  Unfortunately, he is called upon to save the day and get back into the action when the pilots all fall ill and the crew must find someone who "can not only fly this plane, but who didn't have fish for dinner."

Analysis:
To me, the best movies are the ones you can watch repeatedly and still find enjoyment in, like a great song.  And it's hard for a comedy movie to fall into this requirement because humor relies on the unexpected.  After you hear a joke once, it's hard for that same joke to stay funny upon multiple repetitions.  Airplane! circumvents this problem by putting so many jokes into it's 87 minute runtime that you are bound not to catch them all on your first viewing.  I first received this film as a 10-year-old, meaning I have watched it many times over the last 17 years, and what always kept me coming back was the fact that I'd always catch some new joke that I'd missed on previous viewings.

(Even as I sat down to watch it again for this review, I was certain that I had finally caught them all, but lo and behold, one more joke appeared.  It's a visual joke that was difficult to catch and I had to rewind to make sure it actually happened.  It involves Striker's old commanding officer Rex Kramer as he's getting dressed in his house.  He gets ready in front of a full-length mirror and we see him and his reflection.  The camera cuts away then cuts back to nearly the same position, only this time we only can see his reflection.  He then says, "Let's get out of here," and his "reflection" steps through the mirror frame to leave.  It blew my mind that I had never noticed this before.)

Because there are so many jokes in this movie, I decided to actually keep track of how many there were.  By the end of the film, I counted 238 jokes of all sorts of types (verbal humor, audio jokes, visual gags, etc.).  This number is by no means accurate, as I'd usually classify longer situational bits as one joke (such as the pilots Roger, Victor, and Clarence Oveur getting confused during their reports to each other when using the words "roger," "vector," "clearance," and "over").  But I felt safe in saying that there were roughly 2.8 jokes per minute.  I decided to look up the statistics to see if any other comedy movies had this rate.  What I found instead was a study that had audiences watch multiple comedy films and chart their laughs per minute.  Airplane! came out way on top with the audiences laughing 3 times per minute (meaning multiple laughs for those longer jokes), while the second place film The Hangover averaged 2.4 laughs per minute.



Now, this isn't to say that a lot of jokes makes a film great.  A lot of films try this technique of "nothing but funny," and fall flat.  Somehow, Airplane! manages to stay consistently funny.  In looking at my checklist, I noticed some interesting elements emerging.  First, I realized that there weren't as many background jokes as I was expecting.  And there was almost never an instance of jokes overlapping.  Nearly every scene after the intro sequence had a set up and a punchline.  The film lulls you into a zone where you come to expect a joke for every situation.  If nothing visually humorous is happening at the moment, it means you are supposed to listen to the dialogue to hear the joke/pun/wordplay.  If the dialogue is normal or expositional, then you are encouraged to look around the screen to where the "funny" visual gag is happening.  It almost becomes a game with the audience.  Find the Joke.  Even if the joke in itself isn't funny, the fact that the audience is rewarded with a little treasure every 20 seconds keeps the film engaging.

I also noticed that there were far more visual jokes than verbal ones (and about a third of the visual jokes are punctuated with an audio cue to draw attention to them).  Although the whole film doesn't quite fit this structure, the movie would alternate its joke pattern with roughly 2-4 verbal jokes followed by 4-7 visual jokes, back and forth.  This kept the dialogue from getting stale and made the jokes more easy to digest.

Airplane! spawned hoards of imitations, the worst of which were prevalent in the 2000s where it seemed that every year came with it's own terrible spoof film (some of them were even helmed by a Zucker brother or two).  Most of these "parodies" lacked the attention to detail that Airplane! had.  Jokes were often dull, mean-spirited, or "random" and just lacked the magic of the original.  So what else was missing?



I think the most important element of Airplane! that makes it a classic is that the characters don't realize they're in a comedy (well, one does, but we'll discuss him later).  Everything is played with the utmost seriousness, encouraging the audience to find the comedy themselves.  The Zuckers and Abrahams even went as far as to fill their cast with older actors who were solely known for their dramatic roles.  Leslie Nielsen, Peter Graves, Lloyd Bridges, and Robert Stack were all famous for their no-nonsense roles, and they continue playing those characters in the film.  It makes the lines they say all the more absurd, and it single-handedly redefined Nielsen's acting career as being one of the master's of the deadpan (even though he'd go on to play more buffoonish characters than he did here).  By sticking so close to the original Zero Hour! script and style, the ZAZ directors could lampoon self-righteous dramatic filmmaking.  The plot is kept simple enough that the jokes can be the stars of the film.

Only Stephen Stucker as the unhelpful air-traffic controller Johnny is allowed to "be funny," which works so well because of how incongruous he is with the rest of the cast.  Stucker was given free range to ad lib and improvise and he plays his part with a manic glee.  He's the only one who seems aware that he's not actually in a life-or-death situation, which allows for a burst of energy during the final act of the film.  It keeps the stakes of the situation from getting too tense if the audience can rely on Johnny to provide a smart-aleck retort to anything one of the serious characters say or do.

I don't want to really discuss any of the jokes further as to analyze humor is to rid it of it's impact.  All I can say is, with nearly 260 laughable moments, you're bound to find something you enjoy in Airplane!  It's a comedy film that doesn't let up but it doesn't overwhelm either.

The Sequel:
I'm not exactly planning on discussing sequels as part of this trip through my favorite films, but I thought it was worth noting that there was a sequel to Airplane!, and while it has it's funny moments and much of the same cast, the Zuckers and Abrahams didn't return as they felt they had used all the jokes they could for one Airplane! movie, and to that, I agree.

Final Thoughts:
While I've focused mostly on the series of humorous moments this movie offers, I've neglected how much comedy is infused into the core of this movie.  I couldn't really keep track of elements like the music and pacing and effects and sets of the film that give this movie it's humorous flavor.  Sure, people may not laugh out loud at the fact that the images of the jet-engine plane in flight have the sound effects of propeller plane, but it's elements like that that really strengthen this film.

If you've never seen Airplane! (or you have seen it and hate it like some humorless monster), go into it as you would a stand up comedy routine.  This is just a vehicle to expose you to as many jokes as possible and it doesn't shy away from that.  One could almost consider it a piece of experimental film, in that it doesn't adhere itself to standard comedy or parody rules.  It defined a genre, and for that, it should be considered worth many viewings.  It's an entirely different kind of movie altogether.

"It's an entirely different kind of movie."

My Favorite Films: The Breakfast Club

The Breakfast Club (1985)

Director: John Hughes

Context:
John Hughes got his start in filmmaking as a comedy screenwriter, but it wasn't until the mid-80s when he moved to directing and it was then that he solidified himself as the voice of a generation.  From 1984-1987, Hughes released six films focusing on the life of the modern American teenager, often including the same actors and same fictional high school setting, Shermer High School.  While each film varied in tone, there was a thematic force connecting each one.  Teenagers of the time were getting films that spoke to them and allowed their parents to see life through their eyes.

While I enjoy many of these early Hughes films, it is the second in this series, The Breakfast Club, that I consider to be his masterpiece.  This film was originally supposed to be completed before Sixteen Candles another classic, but the time spent perfecting the film allowed it to become stronger as a whole.  Universal Pictures were wary about letting this first-time director manning a major studio release, so he talked them into allowing him a $1 million budget (a shockingly low budget for a film of this caliber) to maintain total creative control over his story.

The low budget influenced the design of the film as a whole, requiring one filming location (an Illinois high school) and one set construction (the giant iconic library which was actually the original high school's gymnasium).  The cast comprised of young actors who had very few credits to their name, but at each appeared in at least one major film prior to The Breakfast Club.  This simple approach to the film helps give it it's style and charm, allowing us to believe that we are watching actual teenagers sort through their lives.

The film would go on to be regarded as one of the best teen films ever made as it can speak to any generation.  So let's dive into what makes this film so strong.

Plot:
Five teenagers from five different social cliques are required to spend one Saturday in detention together.  Over the course of the day, they break down stereotypes as they learn about the similarities they share with their classmates.

Analysis:
This film is the essential "kids vs. adults" tale, as these five students are required to unite against an antagonistic adult presence in the form of the assistant principal Richard Vernon (Paul Gleason).  At the start of of the film, he views the students as a single entity, the scum of the earth that have made his life miserable since they just cannot seem to follow the rules.  He condescendingly forces them to write an 1,000-word essay on "just who they think they are."  And at the start of the film, they each see themselves the way he sees them:

• The Princess, Claire (Molly Ringwald)
• The Brain, Brian (Anthony Michael Hall)
• The Athlete, Andrew (Emilio Estevez)
• The Criminal, Bender (Judd Nelson)
• The Basket Case, Allison (Ally Sheedy)

Asst. Principal Vernon isn't the only adult force governing these students' lives.  A major theme of the film is the strained relationship that teenagers can have with their parents.  While this will become a talking point for the characters later on, we only see very little of these parents at the very start of the movie as they each drop of their offspring at the school.

• Claire is treated like a spoiled rich kid by her father.  He lightly admonishes her for ditching class to go shopping (thus putting her in detention), yet he gives her a gift in a bag without saying a word and also promises to take her shopping at the end of the day.  She accepts all of this without comment.  This isn't played up to be an extreme situation, as the two of them treat this exchange like a mundane occurrence.
• Brian is told by his mother to use his detention time wisely for studying.  She doesn't seem at all concerned about why he is in detention (and given what we find about about Brian later, one wonder's how much she really knows the whole story), but she is extremely upset that he ended up in detention at all.
• Andrew finds himself in a similar situation with his father, whose main concern is that detention could harm his son's chances at gaining a wrestling scholarship.  The key difference between this exchange and the previous is that Brian's mother wants to make sure Brian has got the bad behavior out of his system to avoid further detentions while Andrew's father seems more upset that Andrew got caught.
• Bender doesn't even get dropped off.  He just walks to the school like he owns the place, not even flinching when he nearly gets hit by a car.  One wonders if his parents even know that he's in detention today.
• Allison gets dropped off by both her parents.  She rides in the backseat, placing a boundary between her and her parents, and they leave without comment, even as she steps forward to say goodbye.  Her parents clearly have other priorities.

By seeing each of these interactions take place, we learn a little bit about each character's relationship within their own families.  This tension that each of them have will bubble under the surface throughout the film before becoming text in the climax of the film.  While the characters may not realize it, it's their parents treatment of them who makes them who they are over the course of the film.  And things really start cooking once we get these five distinct personalities in the same room together.

Let's break down the first scene in which all of our character's occupy the same space.  The library is the centerpiece of the film, and it is the initial seating decision of each character in this space that will serve as the the impetus to all interactions that will move the plot forward.  Not only that, but this simple grid of 6 tables arranged in 3 rows and 2 columns (each with 3 seats facing forward) must be acutely set up to get the best camera angles for our five heroes.  It's something that we don't really notice as we watch, because it is executed so perfectly.  As social law states, it is first student who enters the library whose seating choice dictates where the rest of the characters ends up.

• Claire chooses the front left corner of the seats.  At this point, she doesn't know who else will be joining her, so she is acting on instinct.  Her "goody-two-shoes" persona feels most comfortable at the front of the classroom and, even though there isn't going to be any lessons occurring today, she still is drawn to that front seat.
• Brian enters next and choose a seat at the table directly behind Claire.  He chooses a seat that is a couple seats over so he won't just be staring at the back of her head.  This indicates that Brian his aware of his spot on the social ladder, as he couldn't be so bold as to sit right next to the prom queen, but he is now in a position where he can at least be near her.
• Andrew has no such confidence issues.  He gestures to the chair that is at the same table as Claire's but is at the other end of the table.  She shrugs with a slight smile and he takes the seat.  This silent cordial exchanges seems to suggest that Claire and Andrew recognize each other as social equals, yet they aren't close friends.
• Bender immediately decides to harass Brian, the weakest person in the room, by choosing the seat Brian has chosen.  Despite there still being over 15 empty spots, Brian is apparently in Bender's seat.  Brian moves without complaint to the next table over, which puts distance between him and Bender, but still allows him to be as close to the popular kids as possible.  (During the rest of the film, Bender, as the most restless student, floats between all three chairs at his table, not just the one he ejected Brian from.)
• Allison scuttles in last.  She chooses the exact opposite corner from Claire, as far away from everyone as possible and turns away from them.  Her posture indicates that she wants to be left alone, but her energetic entrance gets everyone's attention instantly, suggesting that she actually craves the attention of others and only wants them to think she's a recluse.

And with that, the audience is already primed with expectations and knowledge that will make the rest of this film work.

The rest of the movie plays out in a series of vignettes as our protagonists find different ways to occupy their time.  They start out with individual goals to just get through the day, but slowly, interactions start occurring.  Bender embraces his role as the villain of the school, causing chaos and destruction, while Andrew fancies himself the hero, defending Claire and Brian when Bender insults them.  And Allison just doesn't talk for the first third of the movie, content to observe and exhibit strange behavior in her own world.

In an interesting bout of filmmaking, Hughes decided to film the movie in chronological order, meaning that the actors are actually growing and bonding alongside their characters.  While each scene is iconic, there is an odd balance of sincerity and humor which can be a little jolting at times.  But all of it is necessary groundwork that leads to the centerpiece of the film.

In the final third of the movie, we are presented with a 20 minute scene in which the five students have finally come together as equals and just talk about how life has got them to where they are.  They open up about their problems and fears for the future.  It's a remarkable scene, given that it is just 20 uninterrupted minutes of dialogue.  Each student has an opportunity to make heartfelt monologues.  They laugh and cry together and it feels like we are watching real friendships being born.  While I don't want to spoil this moment for those who haven't seen it, it's marvelous that all of this dialogue doesn't feel like an after school special.

While each of these students is born out of a stereotype, The Breakfast Club uses this opportunity to add to these stereotypes and peel back the "why" behind each character.  This scene is what makes this movie required viewing for any teenager.  Not only does it say what they have all felt at some point in their lives, but it shows them how not to judge a book by it's cover and to give everyone a chance.  The princess is not living a perfect life, the brain is not satisfied with good grades alone, the athlete is not choosing his own path, the criminal is not an unintelligent loser, and the basket case is not just "crazy."  Even the asst. principal has his moments of humanity in this film.  It just stinks that the students always see him at his most frustrated.

The Ending:

A lot of folks take issue with the resolution of the film, with the students making Brian write their essay for them, Claire deciding to hook up with Bender, and Allison getting a makeover to make herself "pretty" for Andrew.  People feel that this defeats the personal growth each of the characters have and is inherently cruel and sexist to say the least.  But I view this ending as just another aspect of life.  These students are not going to have all of their problems solved in one afternoon.

Making Brian write the essay for everyone just shows that he will continue to be valued only for his intellect.  Claire choosing to hook up with Bender shows that she is going to enter a rebellious streak against her parents.  Allison becoming "pretty" in order to be taken seriously is just her doing what she feels she needs to do to fit in.  All of these are not great "lessons," per se.

But it shows that the students are trying to change their lot in life.  Each of them are trying to interact with the others in ways they haven't before.  They are still immature so they need to make mistakes and learn the best way to accomplish their goals.  And they start by showing they are ready to make a change towards each other.  They are trying to remove their boundaries to show that they will uphold the promise to remain friends on Monday.  Will it hold?  Who's to say?  But life is tricky and difficult, so even putting aside differences for one afternoon is worth it.

As "Don't You (Forget About Me)" plays over the triumphant shot of Bender walking away from the school, we know that it is possible to overcome social barriers if we're just willing to listen to each other.

Final Thoughts:

Apart from a few awkwardly written scenes, the film is structurally and thematically perfect.  There is a lot more to uncover in this film, as I could probably analyze each scene and find something new to talk about.  Iconic moments like Allison's sugar-packed lunch, Bender's solitary confinement, Claire's talent, Andrew's hoodie, Brian's Canadian girlfriend, the library dance scene, or the janitor's talk with Vernon are just the icing on the cake that is this movie.  For a coming of age story, there is no other film that I would recommend to every teenager to watch.  The messages still remain relevant to this day.  As a teacher, I still see the Claires, Brians, Andrews, Benders, and Allisons of the world.  And it would be nice for them to know that they are not alone.