Alfred Hitchcock

I have resurfaced! It wasn't that I was intensely busy, it was more like I was…unmotivated. Maybe when my fiction writing is going well, I neglect my poor little blog? Whatever the case, I've decided to get back in the swing of things by writing about one of the most signature directors ever: Sir Alfred Hitchcock. With the movie Hitchcock, which is about his relationship with his wife Alma Reville during the making of Psycho, coming out in November, I hope this post will foster a little excitement in whoever reads it.

Farewell, Summer

I was happy that this summer I managed to somewhat complete my goal that I was too lazy to do last year (I'm glaring at you, younger self); watch two movies a day. While I couldn't squeeze them in every day, I was on that basic track, and thus had the most cinema-filled season of my life up to this point. Here's the list of the films I watched, and I'll *asterisk my new favorites.

Favorite Scenes

I feel like it's about time I do something of this sort, so here are a few of my favorite cinematic scenes, in no particular order.

A Beautiful Mind (2001)

I've always wondered if geniuses are more apt to be mentally unsound, or if genius is a product of madness. Of course, it is really not all-too surprising that so many intellectuals are often plagued with mental disorders; they spend so much time in their head. This idea fuels the basic concept of one of my favorite films, A Beautiful Mind, made in 2001 by Ron Howard. It transcends the confines of a biopic, in this case relaying the story of noted schizophrenic mathematician John Forbes Nash, and becomes a gripping drama, a love story, and a moving portrait of psychological ailments.

Hayao Miyazaki

Hayao Miyazaki has been dubbed the "Walt Disney of Japan," the title due in no small part to the distribution of his films in America by the company. However, I do not agree with this statement. Simply because the two geniuses both made their name in the art form of animation does not make them cinematic siblings. The only thing comparable between them is their expansive imaginations. Miyazaki's films are all completely original, though they draw inspiration from universal folklore. Not only that, but he tends to dwell on deeper, more complex themes such as preservation of the environment, pacifism, and disorientation in unfamiliar surroundings. His films range from the lighthearted to the positively brutal. I love all of his films (the only one I've yet to see is Kiki's Delivery Service [1989]), and they always refuel my own imagination and remind me why I love film and animation. One only has to glance at a snippet of a Miyazaki movie to grasp the breathless sense of wonder he has created and drawn beautifully.

A Patch of Blue (1965)

The notion that love is blind persists in many stories through the ages, notably with the Greek god of love, Eros, who was portrayed as blindfolded in one incarnation. It is the point tenderly made in A Patch of Blue, set against the backdrop of racial tension. Still, it is not a racially-charged story, but a story of love and accepting the sadness of life, and it was one of the most beautiful movies I have seen.

Movies for a Summer Day

This year, I got released for break a bit earlier than some of my friends from other schools, and their updates about the beginning of the sweltering season got me thinking, Which movies feel summery? By that I mean, which movies make you feel the sun and heat and outdoors without ever stepping foot out of your air-conditioned home? Now, if you're like me and don't go out, these movies may be of interest to you.

Mini Reviews

The speed at which I watch movies and write reviews obviously do not correlate, so I will commence writing miniature reviews for the movies I've watched over the past month or so.

Woody Allen

"I don't want to achieve immortality through my work - I want to achieve it through not dying."

I love every film I've seen of Woody Allen. Granted, I haven't fully delved into all of his filmography, but I've seen enough to write a sizable post about him. Everything about him and his work makes me feel better about life and myself, because the best way to forgot your own troubles is to watch other people going through similar situations. Though he is mostly known for comedy, he has mastered a nice blend of philosophical pondering and nihilism wrapped up in humorous characters and stories (with the exception of a few pure dramas).

Bonnie and Clyde (1967)

"Someday they'll go down together

And they'll bury them side by side

To few it'll be grief, to the law a relief

But it's death for Bonnie and Clyde."

I firmly believe that Bonnie and Clyde is the film that changed American cinema, when the transition from Old Hollywood to New Hollywood was made, and filmmakers have not looked back since (except maybe with the occasional nostalgia). If you look at the Best Picture nominees for '67, the contrast from previous years is striking; The Graduate, which deals with post-grad angst and the isolated youth; In the Heat of the Night, concerning racial tensions; and Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, also concerning the aforementioned topic (a good year for Sidney Poitier, who starred in both, to be sure). Doctor Dolittle was also nominated, but that was more of a desperate attempt to hold on to the old and cherished than for true merit.

The Sacrifices I Make for Academia…

I'm such a genius for creating a blog smack in the middle of finals season, eh? Gape at my astounding foresight, mortals.

…Anyway, the basic gist is that my play is over, and the swirling whirlpool that is exams and crammed-in assignments has replaced it. So, no movies for me, not until the 30th, at least. I'm already anticipating my mental breakdown arriving sometime this weekend.

To think that a few mere months ago I watched fifteen movies in two weeks. We have reached the Ultimate Paradox, friends.

I guess I should make this post movie-related. I'll end with a quote:

"It's all happening."

-Almost Famous


That about sums it up.

Lilies of the Field (1963)

In reflection, the reluctance of the main character, Homer Smith, of Lilies of the Field, directed by Ralph Nelson, brings to mind the lyrics of John Lennon's song "Beautiful Boy." Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans…I will not even try to contain the emotions that have been fluttering inside me after watching this film, so bear with me as I try to compose my thoughts.

Bringing Up Baby (1938)

I just watched Bringing Up Baby, and I can say with complete honesty that I haven't had that much cinematic fun in ages. In the broad sub-genres of comedy, I must say that the screwball comedy is one of my favorites (and the one I like the most is My Man Godfrey). They are so unabashedly goofy, with the most ridiculous of characters and gags, that trying to suppress laughter when viewing one would be akin to stopping a volcano from erupting. But my main reason for loving them is that language is the dominant force behind the humor, and beautiful, complex sentences are spouted out rapidly but fluidly, crisply. That is why only the finest of actors can pull off that comedic timing.

Audrey Hepburn

These past two weeks are the first in months that I have gone without seeing a single new movie, the reason for this being that I am currently in a school production that engulfs a good portion of my spare time. What wonderful timing to begin a movie blog, you may well be thinking. However, I feel like I can squeeze in some time to watch one or two movies and then write up a review. I'm considering Bringing Up Baby and Lilies of the Field or Network and Bonnie and Clyde.

But this post is not about me or my rigorous cinephilia schedule. No, this post belongs to one of the most ethereal, kindhearted women in all the world, whose birthday was just yesterday (May the fourth be with you!); Audrey Kathleen Ruston/Hepburn. She died at the premature age of 63, but yesterday she would have turned 83.

Alas, I do not know Audrey the Person, though I can dream, so I can only discuss Audrey the Actress, the one who most of us know the best. My sole hope is that, to the fresh eyes of those who have not seen her, I can do her justice with my words.

Paper Moon (1973)

"It's only a paper moon, hanging over a cardboard sea…"

These are the lyrics, crooned mellowly by Ella Fitzgerald, that accompany the art deco beginning credits of the aptly titled Paper Moon, directed by Peter Bogdanovich. At that moment, before any character had been seen, before the words Introducing Tatum O'Neal flashed across the screen following the rest of the cast list, I knew I was watching something special. 

Introduction

'Ello there, internet.
As you can already tell, I love  live film. When I can't sleep, I go through all the winners of the Academy Award for Best Picture in my head. If something funny happens at school, my immediate thought is How can I fit that in a screenplay? A week isn't complete without reading one of Roger Ebert's reviews.
Consider this blog to be my way of keeping myself sane by spilling out all of my cinema feelings. Expect reviews, thoughts on my favorite films, effusion of adoration over filmmakers and actors.
For a little insight into my taste, here are some of my favorite movies:
Cinema Paradiso
Into the Wild
Shine
Amadeus
Gone with the Wind
The English Patient
All About Eve
Casablanca
Schindler's List
Paper Moon
Kramer vs. Kramer
The Sting
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
The Princess Bride
Little Miss Sunshine
Roman Holiday
Shakespeare in Love
Annie Hall
Manhattan
Crimes and Misdemeanors
Hannah and her Sisters
Midnight in Paris
Almost Famous
The Lady Eve
Love in the Afternoon
(500) Days of Summer
Funny Girl
Moulin Rouge!
The Way We Were
To Kill a Mockingbird
Howl's Moving Castle
Spirited Away
The Philadelphia Story
Rear Window
Rebecca
Dial M for Murder
A Beautiful Mind
Far From Heaven
Some Like it Hot
The Usual Suspects
Harvey