It’s always difficult for me to write anything about films which have already received immense praise from countless better writers than I, so I’ll be brief: this film is practically perfect. I love it to death. One significant thing about it is that, while it is clearly a Hollywood entertainment film, it unusually has no clear place in the genre system. It’s kind of a detective drama, kind of a psychological drama/thriller, kind of a horror film, and kind of a comedy. Maybe it’s all of them, and if it is, that’s a tough balance to achieve. While this may not be my favorite Jodie Foster performance, Hopkins makes up for this in spades, and his character clearly shaped many later works of media which I love. It’s not quite in my top 20 favorite films – maybe it’s just not a very “J. D. Hansel” kind of movie – but I approve of its status as one of the best films of all time without any reservations.
1991
Delicatessen Review
I think the first time I ever saw a scene from a French film was in one of my classes at Harford Community College. The professor showed a brief clip in which residents of an apartment were all moving in unison to the rhythm of a couple having sex on a bed. I never knew where it came from, but I would have liked to see the whole film since this scene struck me as both humorous very artistic.
I think the first time I ever saw a French film all the way through was when I watched Amélie. Consequently, the stylistic choices of Jean-Pierre Jeunet formed my entire schema of what a French film was for a very long time – I think I assumed that his style was normal for French cinema because I didn’t realize the scene I had seen from Delicatessen was by the same director. Now that I’ve seen many more French films, I can clearly see how Amélie and Delicatessen clearly belong in their own little corner doing their own little thing.
After a bit more consideration, however, what’s struck me is just how different the two films are. Amélie, while it engages with the dark and gloomy, is extremely romantic, and Delicatessen, while it engages with romance, is extremely dark and gloomy. Delicatessen takes pride in its repulsiveness, and for some strange reason, I appreciate that. It’s a very icky movie, and I think it may have started a lot of bad trends in the filmmaking styles of the 1990s (bland color schemes, excessive fish-eye lenses, etc.), but it’s still clever, slick, and a well of creative inspiration. Don’t make the same mistake I did – now that you know about it, see it sooner rather than later.
The Fisher King Review
While I think it takes a while to really get going, The Fisher King is almost certainly Terry Gilliam’s best film (perhaps excluding his Python work). Continuing his exploration of how Western civilization thinks of insanity, he presents a very strange, but charming, romantic comedy about people who are truly not right in the head. This goes beyond the usual romantic comedy about people who do crazy things for love, and beyond Silver Linings Playbook. Robin Williams’ character is purely mad – plain and simple – and Gilliam is able to use this to create two very different kinds of effects.
The first effect is that of childlike naivete. We see a man who wears kiddish pajamas and loves his toys, but he’s not a man-boy. He just looks at the world a little differently, and he dares to try things most of us wouldn’t. He believes in fairy-tales and in fairies, and yet he very much understands sex. He doesn’t judge people for their craziness – he usually just doesn’t see it; he simply sees people who ought to join him in singing some fun old standards like “Lydia the Tattooed Lady.” The way that this benefits the movie the most is in what it allows Gilliam to do as a director and cinematographer: when we see the world through Parry’s eyes, we see a red knight in fiery light riding towards us on a frightening steed and a hundred busy people become a ballroom of dancers the moment his crush appears. While I can’t say I’m in love with everything about the movie – by no means – I have to say that it’s very charming (and in all the right ways).
The other side of this, however, is the film’s darkness. The movie largely takes place in a bad part of New York, where Jack Lucas (Jeff Bridges) is selling pornos in a rundown movie rental store. When an insane man enters his life, it only makes the lives of Jack and Anne (Mercedes Ruehl) even more hellish, which leads to some of the best drama I’ve seen in any film. Much of the drama comes from Ruehl’s performance as Anne, which rightly won an Academy Award, and which made me empathize with this character in a way I never thought I could. Even with the movie’s tragic terrorist shooting, suicide attempts, and violent beatings, it’s still the relationship between Jack and Anne that’s the most intense part of the movie, and I didn’t really like either of them at the start. By the end of the movie, while I have no intention of revealing how the story ends in this review, Gilliam makes us love the last people on earth one would think we could love, and that’s surely one of the greatest accomplishments of any artist in history.
What About Bob? Review
I generally try to be a really tough critic. I never give five stars, and I only give four and a half stars to the movies that grab me in the most intense and personal ways possible or impress me such that I would not object to considering them the greatest films of all time. Naturally, I try to keep the list of films that get this most esteemed rating as small as possible, with only a few such reviews every year so they only make up about 10% of my reviews. As I watched What About Bob?, I could tell that this film was in the 4 to 4.5 zone, but I wasn’t sure where, and I regrettably remained unsure even after the film had ended. Over time, however, I found myself leaning towards 4.5 not only because its particular story and comedy style grab me personally, but because I kept laughing at its comedy after weeks had passed since I watched the film.
I do believe that this film is truly (and perhaps objectively) good, but the reasons why I love it are more subjective. I have a personal connection to What About Bob? because I love Frank Oz, who directed the film, and I’ve grown fond of his style as a filmmaker and humorist. He also cast fellow Muppet performer Fran Brill as a fairly significant character in the film, which I greatly appreciate – it’s not every film that pairs Bill Murray with Prairie Dawn. I also just like comedic stories about craziness, mental illness, anxiety, psychology, and the brain, which is why films like High Anxiety, Silver Linings Playbook, Crazy People, and Inside Out are among my favorites. I also like comedy that focuses on the dynamic between characters that each have distinct and understandable personalities, a la the early Harry Potter films and certain Muppet movies.
To be more objective, however, the story is cleverly written, and the performances are absolutely excellent. Richard Dreyfuss in particular clearly had a difficult task in that his character must become progressively and consistently less sane, while staying somewhat relatable during most of the film, and I think he handled it very well, delivering most of the film’s best comedy. I will say that the extent to which I empathize with Dreyfuss’ character does at times get in the way of the comedy, and it is perhaps a consequence of this that the film’s ending feels a little weak, but overall, What About Bob? offers the high level of cinematic craftsmanship that I’ve come to expect from Frank Oz. I don’t think this movie gets a lot of credit as one of the greats – although it did make Bravo’s list of the “100 Funniest Movies” and a quote from the film is in my movie quotes daily calendar – but regardless of what anyone else might think of it, I cannot recommend it highly enough.
The Rocketeer Review
(MINOR SPOILERS)
I really like Timothy Dalton. I greatly enjoy watching Jennifer Connelly. This movie was recommended to me by a friend, and I was pretty sure I would love it. Unfortunately, the movie was largely dull and uninteresting for the first half. The protagonist was a bore, and the antagonist was honestly more likable and charming. The concept could have been very interesting, but I just couldn’t get into it for quite some time.
Then, much like in Hannah and Her Sisters, there was a redeeming scene. Finally, when the story was starting to get interesting, they gave a scene to Jennifer Connelly’s character, who had to give the best performance of her life. The scene was an absolute delight, largely because I could finally focus on a couple of the characters that mattered to me. Seeing this scene in this movie felt like the geeky kid on the sidelines had just jumped up and did a slam dunk, so I couldn’t help but applaud.
On the whole, it’s not a bad movie. Some of the characters are interesting, the concept is rather unique, the screenplay gets better and better throughout, the visuals and soundtrack are frequently impressive, and I could easily see why someone would really like this movie. For me, however, I like a protagonist who’s likable. Say what you want about film being a visual medium, but let’s not forget that visuals alone are not the point – otherwise you could just go to a Smithsonian art museum for free and see better visuals than most great films have to offer. The point is storytelling, and at the heart of every story are its characters. If the movie had a stronger main character, the story would have been much stronger, which would have made the film rise above “okay.” The one redeeming scene, however, earned this film an extra half a star above par.