February 5: The Ten Commandments (1954 -- Cecil B. DeMille)

★★★★

As we learned last Christmas from Ridley Scott’s Exodus: Gods and Kings, they just don’t make ‘em like this anymore.  Cecil B. DeMille pulls out all the stops and delivers 3-1/2 hours of engaging cinema in this justly praised version of the Exodus story. We might not buy into the themes and values that inform this Ten Commandments, and we might not see the characters as believable, but there’s indisputable cinematic power and beauty in this over-the-top epic of the 50s.

The core of the appeal here is the characters.  In contrast to Scott’s recent version of the story, DeMille gives us characters who have some human elements we can respond to.  Nefretiri is the most conflicted character, supporting Moses at many points because of her love for him, undermining him later out of revenge, then suddenly working to save his son from death.  Hers is a conflicted love.  Moses, too, has inner conflicts as he realizes his Jewish background, though after god speaks to him, he becomes a much flatter and uninteresting character.  Pharaoh Sethi first trusts Moses then finds disappointment in him, and the flawed Ramses must cope with his own arrogance in dealing with Moses as well as the very real grief of losing his son.  All these characters go through emotional, if melodramatic, changes.

Minor characters, too, have a sentimental side that we can respond to.  Edward G. Robinson’s Dathan is that unflinchingly villainous character we love to hate, and we’re hopeful that the romance between young Joshua and Lilia will one day be realized.  We can also feel for the suffering of Moses biological mother, Yochabel, and for Bithiah, who raises him as her own and loves him.  Even scenes like brick-making and the departure from Egypt feature small vignettes of sentimentality.  In this Ten Commandments, DeMille uses even the smallest character as an emotional element to draw us into the film.

A surprising discovery in watching this Ten Commandments is that we don’t need awe-inspiring CGI to jack our involvement in a film.  Ridley Scott’s 3D special effects are clearly superior to the cartoon column of fire and the blue-screen that DeMille had available to him, but Scott has to use a uniform, grey pallet to take advantage of his technology while DeMille used riveting Technicolor that draws our eye with unexpected textures and colors.  Red bolts of cloth arc across DeMille’s screen, and turquoise radiates blue from around the necks of the Egyptians.  Skin tones are a rich contrast to the cloth draping the actors’ bodies, which themselves are set off with high-key lighting for the men and soft focus for the women.  Technicolor emphasizes the details in accessories and cloth, and there’s an unmistakable quality of mid-50s fashion in the opulent court costumes, perhaps reflecting the contribution of Edith Head.  Today’s CGI can indeed draw the eye, but 50s Technicolor serves the same function just as well when used by someone this skilled at it.

The sentimentality, lavish costumes and ornate sets in this film all point to a silent aesthetic that DeMille was very familiar with.  Billowing curtains often define interior spaces -- a device that Scott uses effectively in Gladiator -- but what really compels us are the expansive of pyramids, temple facades and rows of sphinxes.  We also see the silents’ love of exotic spectacle in moments like Moses directing the placement of an obelisk between two large temples.  Other spectacles include the exodus from Egypt and Ramses’ subsequent pursuit, as well as the hurried crossing of the Red Sea, all three with hordes of extras.  The extravagant party scene around the Golden Calf also recalls the many decadent dance scenes of earlier silent films.

In the Ten Commandments, DeMille updates the old vocabulary of silent film for his mid-50s era.  While he addresses a contemporary, Cold War concerns like freedom vs. servitude to the state, with this vocabulary, he also demonstrates the power to touch us that this old cinematic language still has.

February 4: Exodus: Gods and Kings (2014 -- Ridley Scott)

 ★★

Ridley Scott makes several interesting choices in Exodus: Gods and Kings.  God is a British child in this epic remake, calling to mind CS Lewis’ statement that children want justice and adults want mercy.  Impatient, single-minded, lacking perspective on the victims, the god of the Exodus story has the elemental qualities of a child, and Scott captures this characteristic with this impressive choice of image.  And Scott’s decision creates an interesting relationship for Moses, who finds himself trying to create an adult perspective in god.  This dynamic is quite a shift from the god-man relationship in DeMille’s 1956 epic

But of course, it’s the digital effects that are the main sell here.  It’s easy to imagine that technological improvements were a big consideration in undertaking this remake, and the effects deliver.  Scott uses the same narrative choices as his predecessor in not dwelling on all the individual plagues but compressing them and having Ramses dismiss them with scientific explanations.  The water turns dramatically to blood, and the portrayal of dead fish, boils, frogs and lice is so visceral that we can almost sense them.  The receding of the Red Sea is awe-inspiring here, especially in 3D.

But despite all these great elements, Scott’s Exodus drags mightily through its 2-1/2 hour run.  Scott has clearly chosen to direct Christian Bale and Joel Edgerton as cyphers, and the result is that Exodus fails to engage the audience.  As Scott’s tale winds from Moses’ Egyptian fall, his embrace of his Jewish heritage and his acting as god’s prophet, Bale leaves us feeling distant and uninvolved with any of Moses’ ambitions, disappointments, loves or doubts.  That Bale’s Moses engages us significantly less than that of Charlton Heston is a testimony to Scott’s directorial decision, but wringing emotion and engagement out of Ramses and Moses does not serve the project well.

So for all the interesting embellishments and directions that Scott uses in this remake, when he replaces the characters of DeMille’s Ten Commandments with one-dimensional gods and kings of legend, he moves his film from audience engagement to declamation.  And two-and-a-half hours of posturing is a lot to watch on the screen, even with great CGI and 3D.

January 6: The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1 (2014 -- Francis Lawrence)

★★

In this film, there’s a problem in Panem, and it’s not coming from the Capitol.  Mockingjay - Part 1 is half of one volume of a trilogy, a situation that’s set up to dilute narrative drive.  Worse still, the film is based on the last book of a trilogy that sinks deeper into angst as it moves from the first volume to the third.  No surprise that director Francis Lawrence can only deliver us a film with little-to-no story and an emotionally one-note heroine in a world of only one emotional shading.

And we don’t get to spend enough time with the characters we know, either.  We hardly deal with Haymitch, Peeta or Finn, and the one old friend we see often, Gale, is as monotonous here as Katniss.  Even the man we love to hate, President Snow, shows little more than perfunctory evil.  With so little to pique our interest in this Mockingjay, it’s easy to agree with Effie and lament the absence of some of the visual excess of the Capitol.  But we don’t go to the Capitol here, and the film even keeps the ebullient talk show host, Caesar, under control, draining the energy that his performances brought to the series from this installment.

Despite all this flatness, there is some worthwhile continuity between the first two Hunger Games installments and this third one.  For example, the critique of media continues.  The first two films show us media as empty entertainment; here, it is more sinister, and we see media as a tool of propaganda that leaders use to promote their agenda.  And there’s a similar attitude towards authority in all the films.  District 13’s President Coin in this film smells a bit like the absolutist President Snow; in fact, we get the feeling that the difference between the two is more one of degree that essence.

But Mockingjay - Part 1 spends most of its length spinning its wheels as we watch competing propaganda.  It’s the flattest of the series, and we can only hope that the action picks up a bit in the last film and that our characters are allowed to breathe and feel again.

January 5: Foxcatcher (2014 -- Bennett Miller)

★★★★★

This film is a compelling drama that relies on its surprising acting.  In the film, du Pont heir, John, wants to sponsor and coach a wrestling team at his estate with the aim of entering and winning the Olympics. Toward that end, he first convinces Olympic gold medalist Mark Schultz to train at his estate, Foxcatcher, and he then recruits Mark’s brother, Dave Schultz, to train and coach there.

But Foxcatcher’s script and acting give unexpected nuance to this simple story.  One of the strongest roles here is Channing Tatum as Mark Schultz.  Under Bennett Miller’s direction, Tatum’s Mark is a dull, inarticulate, physically-imposing man who is a follower despite his athleticism.  As a competitor, he’s strong and quick, but he’s unable to connect with others or make friends.  He’s defined by an inferiority complex towards his older brother Dave throughout the film.  Tatum creates this character with small touches like a hulking stride and a slightly bent posture. And in this film of close-ups, when Miller’s camera lingers on Dave’s face, Tatum’s Dave has a blank, confused look as he tries to figure out how to respond in each situation.  This Dave is a man of arresting physical bearing but a weak, passive personality that calls to be led.

Foxcatcher follows Dave as he oscillates between two men who lead him.  His sharp, gregarious, family-oriented older brother Mark is one of these men.  A father himself and a coach, Mark also tries to take care of his younger brother, and though Dave can’t articulate how he feels, a strength of Tatum’s performance is that we can see that Dave is envious of his older brother’s success but that he can’t manage to accomplish the same on his own.  The early sparring scene between the two, a mixture of aggression and affection, defines their relationship better than any amount of exposition would.

Trying to strike out on his own, Dave falls under the leadership of a second man, Steve Carell’s John du Pont.  This odd millionaire is an uncertain, awkward man who is middle-aged and dumpy, but he’s deeply motivated by a desire for power and domination.  Never able to please his mother, du Pont uses the wealth available to him to buy power.  He loves guns and weaponry and subsidies local law enforcement so they practice at his estate.  He buys heavy military armaments as a hobby.  His wealth secures a deference that insulates him, but the aggression in wrestling also attracts him, so he starts a team on the estate and postures as their trainer.  Carell creates many of the most uncomfortable moments in Foxcatcher, as when his ungainly du Pont wins a match that is thrown or when he wrestles around on top of the handsome athletes his wealth has bought.  In one particularly uncomfortable scene, Dave clearly feels he has to let du Pont clamor on top of him in the middle of the night, a scene whose power comes as much from Tatum’s and Carell’s acting as from the situation.  And as with Dave, close-ups on du Pont create discomfort.  After Dave tells du Pont that money won’t convince Mark to come to Foxcatcher, the camera lingers on du Pont’s face as Carell’s eyes go blank and he keeps silent and immobile for several seconds, his nose in the air.  John du Pont expects his money to win the day for him, and he doesn’t know how to react to this information.

The characters and acting alone would make Foxcatcher a worthwhile film, but Miller brings important cinematic elements to bear, too.  Throughout, the script interweaves strands of patriotism, class, power, weakness and love, and Miller so deftly handles his images that every detail onscreen seems to speak to these themes, whether it’s painting of George Washington or horse trophies.  Miller also brings an independent filmmaker specificity the settings.  In the early part of the film, the school that Dave visits and his apartment have a great uniqueness to them as do, later, Mark’s home and du Pont’s.  And the cinematography makes this film compelling.  The close-ups put us uncomfortably into dialogs and actions, and the shallow focus compels us to look at a limited range of what’s happening onscreen.  Miller’s direction compliments the story, acting and settings here to make Foxcatcher even more intense.

Foxcatcher is a significant exploration of today’s America.  Though the story follows the relationship among three individuals, the concerns that run through their interactions run also animate our time, when our American competitive spirit is running up against increasing inequality and limited social mobility.

January 4: Selma (2014 -- Ava DuVernay)

★★★

December 30: Into the Woods (2014 -- Rob Marshall)

December 21: Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe (1940 -- Ford Beebe & Ray Taylor)

★★★

This Flash Gordon serial is at least as engaging as the two earlier and, in some ways, even more so.  Like the two previous, it starts with a threat to the earth, but while the other serials spend some time on discovery of the problem and pulling together a response, by the time this series has told us about the threat, Flash, Dale and Zarkov are already in space and engaged in an air battle.  And just as the episode's opening benefits from the condensed story, the rest of these episodes compress action and race forward.

Art director Harold MacArthur appears to have been given free rein to use any costumes he could find at Universal, and he embraced that freedom with relish.  Flash starts his adventures with his hunky body discretely wrapped in a military uniform, but he’s soon in tights and a Cossack hat, showing his contours.  Queen Fria’s court has an historical drama look that sometimes slips into a beauty pageant, while Ming and those who dance for him suggest an oriental adventure.  The local costume of Prince Barin’s realm appears to be cut from Robin Hood films with caps, sweeping feathers, tights and tunics.  And there are some plucky rock men in papier-mâché costumes perhaps created for the series.  The art design here is a great overview of the look of film of the 30s.

But the US was preparing for war in 1940, and that atmosphere is clear in many elements of this Flash Gordon.  While air battles had been a staple of the series, they’re far more common here than in previous Flash serials.  Ming is occasionally called a “dictator” instead of an emperor here, and there’s a whiff of eugenics in Fria’s condescension to the Rock People who, being dumb and blocky, should die.  Flash’s initial uniform is yet another index of the times, as are the long-range canon and the bombing of the castle.  And the presence of double agents and spies on both sides are new to the Flash serials, too.

And like the other series, Flash 40 lends itself to playing Spot-the-Star-Wars-Elements.  The game can start early as the first narrative titles, which scroll from the bottom of the page and recede into space above, just like they do in all the Star Wars movies.  Cloaking devices render spacecraft invisible to opposing armies, and Ming’s programed robots attack Flash & co.  Of course, there is both an emperor and a princess here, and there’s a particularly strong connection between the Rock People and the Jawa traders in Episode IV.  The Rock People blend in and out of the environment and speak their own language, just as we see the Jawa do on  Tatooine.  It’s a striking connection.

But the most fun in this Flash Gordon is the rush from one noble act to the next and the sincerity that Buster Crabb brings to the hero.  At one point here, Zarkov says of Ming: “We can destroy him and his palace, but that would mean our death as well.”  Undeterred, Flash responds, “It would be worth it if we could save the universe by doing so.”

They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore.