Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Make Bad Spy Movies, Not War: Xander's Film Registry, Part II

*The 1960s*-- the flower power era. The decade we landed on the moon ('cause we really did, people, get used to it!), developed mainstream cynicism, and sat by while at least three of the greatest men in American history were viciously murdered. The era celebrated in Hair, and reproached in just about every movie made about it. These ten movies reflect the shifting priorities of viewers in the English-speaking world, as well as the counterculture movement in its brief life.

Dr. No (1962)- The film that introduced us to 007 wasn't even an adequate preview of the franchise that lay in store. For one thing, it could be taken 100 percent seriously. Also, in his series-founding performance, Sean Connery proves that, whatever the title of his 1967 adventure might suggest, you really only live once. Connery had three great Bond movies in him, and that's it. This first one has him trying to save the space program from the most believable villain in the entire series-- the titular Dr. No. Ursula Andress co-stars.

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)- David Lean's epic war drama should inspire a lot of gratitude in us as moviegoers. Peter O'Toole's first starring role; the best performance of Alec Guinness' career (oo, another blow at Star Wars, sorry); the best battle scenes ever to show up on screen until Return of the King. The story of World War I officer T.E. Lawrence, LoA is 227 minutes of pure cinema. What more can be said?

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)- It's astounding that Stanley Kubrick gets more recognition for the wrenchingly horrible A Clockwork Orange than this black-and-white apocalypse comedy. The film that showed us why you can't fight in the War Room, Strangelove is an all-star spoof of early Cold War paranoia that seems to phase back into relevance every two decades: the arms race of the 80s, our modern fear of self-destruction.... And, of course, in the title role is Peter Sellers' pinnacle performance: an ex-Nazi scientist who advocates a post-apocalyptic underground society in which intelligent, rich men have the eternal companionship of plenty of babes. Ya know, to further the human race. A definite classic!

My Fair Lady (1964)- No, Eliza, don't get him his slippers! By far the funniest musical in history, My Fair Lady is a story of transformation as "guttersnipe" Eliza Doolittle becomes the most beautiful woman in England. Rex Harrison-- just like he did in Cleopatra-- makes the movie as Henry Higgins, the bossy, chauvinistic, sometimes cruel professor whose experiment is Eliza. The rest of the picture is hilariously cluttered with Eliza's alcoholic, bone-lazy father, the verbose Freddy, and Higgins' hilarious mother.

Our Man Flint (1966)- Without Our Man Flint and In Like Flint (1967), there would have been no Austin Powers. We probably wouldn't know who James Coburn is, either. His star-making role as ridiculous superspy Derek Flint in Daniel Mann's action-comedy remains one of the most tamely-yet-outrageously-funny characters in history. Equally funny is Lee J. Cobb as Flint's bamboozled boss. The bad guys aren't particularly threatening, but it's still first-class escapist adventure. Spy's eye activity: try to find the part when a supposedly thick "steel wall" buckles under Flint's gentle push, and the enormous foam "boulder" hitting the head of an actress on the way off a self-destructing island.

Doctor Dolittle (1967)- By this time, musicals were no longer what people wanted to see, and the ones that were made-- this, Camelot, Star-- were huge flops. Even so, this one happens to be pretty great. For one thing, with a giant pink snail and a two-headed dancing llama thingy, this was as close as kids of the day were getting to the psychedelic movement. And for another, there's Rex Harrison, one of the best actors in history, kicking Eddie Murphy's butt, quite frankly. One of the films every kid should see.

The Jungle Book (1967)- Another movie every kid should see. The last Disney movie supervised by Walt himself, this classic is still solidly entertaining for viewers of any age. In other words, if your kid wants to watch TV, put this in before Hannah Montana or Dora kill your brain cells. Great Disney songs, Disney animation that still looks impressive... but Disney's trademark hackery is nowhere in sight. Whew.

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)- The only Kubrick movie better than Dr. Strangelove! This very-cerebral, still-visually-gripping sci-fi event is the standard by which all sci-fi movies since have been measured... and found wanting. From the haunting entreaties of the lethally malfunctioning computer Hal (he's afraid, Dave) to the first-rate design to the jaw-dropping climax as Dave Bowman enters the monolith (and we spend ages seeing multicolored, astounding sights I can't describe here-- it's still the sixties, after all), 2001, though obviously a false futurism, is anything but a false promise.

Planet of the Apes (1968)- It's no 2001, but it's a very close second. And if you're keeping score, that's four Charlton Heston movies so far on the registry. In this loose adaptation of a French sci-fi novel, symbolism, irony, paradox, and primates are everywhere. And it inspired a series that sustained itself not in a linear, but a cyclical, narrative-- something very rare in Hollywood history. Not to mention the first human-chimpanzee kiss on screen (in your face, Scott Bakula!). Often disturbing, always a masterpiece.

Medium Cool (1969)- It's not really a documentary, not really a drama, and certainly not a docudrama. Haskell Wexler's interpretation of the events around the 1968 Democratic National Convention is one thing for sure, though-- required viewing. Full of hope for the future of Bobby Kennedy-- and, hauntingly, released a year after his assassination-- and somewhat nonlinear, it's probably the only successful eyewitness account of American history that isn't hideously boring. Great performances by Harold Blankenship and Verna Bloom as a mother and son befriended by a desensitized Chicago newsman.

Next time: the style-less seventies, from MASH to Muppets.

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