Lawrence of Arabia
Directed by: David Lean
Starring: Peter O' Toole, Alec Guinness, Anthony Quinn, Jack Hawkins, Omar Sharif, Jose Ferrer, Claude Rains, Arthur Kennedy, Donald Wolfit
Rated: PG
Very rarely does a film come along that truly deserves the praise of being an “epic.”
Lawrence of Arabia, directed by David Lean and released in 1962, is such a movie. Epic in story, beautifully filmed and at 3 hours 42 minutes, there's not a wasted frame. I've only seen it on DVD where it looks fantastic. Seeing it on a big screen, like the big one at The Palace or at the Gillioz, would be nothing less than awe inspiring.
This is the apex of director David Lean's career, and he was no stranger to epics.
He directed 19 films, including The Bridge on the River Kwai, Dr. Zhivago and A Passage to India. Yes, his “epic pedigree” speaks for itself.
Lawrence of Arabia is listed at number five of “The Greatest Films of All Time” by The American Film Institute and at number one on AFI's specialized list of “Greatest Epics.”
Deservedly so.
Lean took on what seemed to be an impossible task. The ergonomics and logistics of shooting in the desert and the breadth of the story made Lean seem like a man gone mad.
Where could he raise the money for such a wild dream? He was committed enough to throw in his own funds and while not listed in the original credits, he has since been acknowledged as the other producer along with Sam Spiegel. Spiegel is a legend in his own right, having produced The Bridge on the River Kwai, The African Queen, On the Waterfront and Suddenly, Last Summer.
As Omar Shariff put it in an interview many years after the fact, ''If you are the man with the money and somebody comes to you and says he wants to make a film that's four hours long, with no stars, and no women, and no love story, and not much action either, and he wants to spend a huge amount of money to go film it in the desert--what would you say?''
Most producers would say “NO!.”
We can only appreciate the fact that Lean and Spiegel were men with vision.

O'Toole plays T.E. Lawrence, the main character and author of the memoir on which the film is based.
Lawrence is a soldier in the British army and is dispatched to the Middle East in 1915. He soon makes allies of many of the tribal rulers of the region and eventually becomes a powerful leader in the Arab's war against the Turks. His trials and tribulations are equal to, maybe ever greater than his triumphs.
If you've seen the film, there's no way you have forgotten the magnificence of the spectacle. If you haven't seen it, I don't want to spoil anything for you.
Just suffice it to say that Lawrence of Arabia is one of the most beautiful, powerful and moving motion pictures ever committed to film. Seek out the collector's edition DVD, presented in a beautifully restored print in its full wide-screen glory. Avoid the older versions that were released in the “pan and scan format” or better still, call Mike at The Moxie and urge him to have a showing of it at The Gillioz.

The Wind and the Lion
Directed by: John Milius
Starring: Sean Connery, Candice Bergen, Brian Keith, John Huston
Rated: PG
After seeing Lawrence of Arabia I started thinking about other “epics” and realized (and I'm embarrassed) that I had never seen The Wind and the Lion.
I remedied that situation last weekend with a Netflix order.
It, too, is an incredible film in every way: Looks, plot, execution, production values, etc.
And it, too, is based on a true story. For me it was a very informative bit of history (besides being a beautiful movie) that filled me in with a piece of important American history in which I was sorely lacking knowledge. The body of the film is based on a real incident (but the “facts” have been changed somewhat) involving the kidnapping of an American citizen in the first years of the 20th Century and the political bargaining that went on between the Theodore Roosevelt administration and the Berbers of Morocco.
There is an overwhelming sense of a sea change in the world as it was known at the time. It was the beginning of a new century, technology was growing at an exponential rate and the geopolitical scene was evolving in ways heretofore unimagined.
Candice Bergen is the kidnapped American, Sean Connery is the chieftain behind the abduction and is doing the deed to embarrass the powers that be in Morocco as well as stick a thorn in the side of Roosevelt's empire-building political philosophy and jingoism. Roosevelt was an enigmatic president and besides his bent for empirical domination, he also had a hand in establishing the National Park and monument system, did a lot to break up financial monopolies and trusts and was a staunch proponent for protecting the environment. He was instrumental in enacting the Pure Food and Drug Act and was the first president to: fly a plane, take a submarine voyage, own a car, have a telephone and win a Nobel Peace Prize.
WHEW! That was back when presidents could get things done. His accomplishments are all the more confounding when you realize he was a conservative Republican. Political stripes were different 100 years ago, I guess.
The Wind and the Lion is a great movie and makes me long for a biopic about Roosevelt.

Thanks

Thanks to my friend (and my wife...) Terry Cone for her donation to the cause.

"The Truth, the whole truth and nuthin' but the truth."

For the past 25 years, I have been writing movie reviews (and the occasional feature piece) for a weekly publication based in Springfield, MO. The Springfield Business Journal. During that time I had the pleasure and good fortune to work with two great editors. Any writer will tell you that, along with a word processor, a lust for research, a basic knowledge of the language and a passion for the subject, a good editor is an asset that cannot be discounted. That said I would like to offer my most sincere thanks to Ms. Clarissa French and Mr. Chris Whitley (the sweet smellin' man) for the guidance and tolerance they offered me. I love them both and cannot express how much they have helped me understand and develop my craft, such as it is.
 I recently resigned from my 25 year stint. (The first review I wrote concerned the John Hughes film Pretty in Pink, released in February, 1986.) After doing the math of my situation I realized I was making about $2 an hour for my efforts. And that's BEFORE taxes. So I quit and decided that working for nothing on my own was better than working for slave wages and dealing with an executive editor who didn't understand my style and sensibilities and actually, at one point, suggested that I could keep on writing reviews but they would not pay me for them.
 I have no ego or delusions about my writing skills. I'm sophomoric at best. BUT, I have a passion for what I write about (film) and I research things to the point of madness.
 After tendering my resignation, I realized that I had done the right thing. Not ONE person from SBJ had the common courtesy to even acknowledge my bailout. Not one person, after 25 YEARS!, had the decency to send me an email saying “thanks for the 25 years and good luck.” Nope, it's like I never existed there. Besides Clarissa and Chris, I need to thank Dorothy Gardener, Cynthia Hammond, Diane Zipf, Geoff Pickle and Maria Hoover. Dorothy is the patron saint of “taking care of business” and was always a bright spot in any of my dim days. Diane and Cynthia always laughed at my cynical jokes and they seemed somewhat scared of me but I knew that we all liked each other. Geoff and Maria are two editors still with SBJ and they have been very pleasant in our dealings.
So thanks to y'all who deserve it and as for those of you who don't...well, you and I know who you are.
So now I'm my own boss and the site is dedicated to nothing but film reviews -not surrounded by articles about who bought the Dairy Freeze and what their itemized expenses were for fiscal year 2009.
 With my new power, I have decided to assign myself an offshoot column that will deal with “Must See DVDs.” Look for the first installment tomorrow.
Thanks to all of you who sent letters of encouragement over the years. Those of us who love the art of the cinema have an unspoken connection. Film is a viable, vibrant and ever evolving art form. When done properly it is a thing of true beauty. Case in point: The Last Circus. 
 So keep watching. The opportunities these days are boundless: DVD rentals, Netflix, online streaming, DVDs for FREE at the Spingfield/Greene County Library and the many friends you have who will gladly loan you anything from their personal library.
Must see DVD of the week is: Lawrence of Arabia. Review will be posted post-haste.

The Last Circus

Directed by: Álex de la Iglesia

Starring: Antonio de la Torre, Carlos Areces, Carolina Bang, Santiago Segura, Fran Perea, Sancho Gracia

Rated: R

Much has been – and a lot more no doubt will be- written about Alex de la Iglesia's Felliniesque mindfreak of a film, The Last Circus.

One thing you'll never see, though, is someone declaring it to be, “The feel good film of the season!”

It is one of the most, possibly the most, disturbing movies I've ever seen. And I don't mean that in a bad way. Unless you're talking about over-the-top gore-fests, a really disturbing film can teach the viewer much and evoke deep seated emotions.

As unsettling as the story and actions on the screen are, The Last Circus is aesthetically beautiful to behold. The black and white cinematography of Kiko de la Rica-

like the work of Aldo Tonti in Nights of Cabiria, Gordon Willis in Manhattan and Michael Chapman in Raging Bull- is utterly beautiful. It juxtaposes aesthetic beauty with the brutality witnessed in the action on the screen. Any given frame from any of the movies mentioned could be made into a B&W photo print and stand on its own as a piece of photographic art at the highest level.

The story begins in 1937 with young Javier watching his father perform- as the “happy” clown- in a traveling circus. A year earlier the Spanish Civil War had begun and there were factions on all sides of any given issue. The man who eventually rose to power -and kept it for decades- was General Francisco Franco. As his power grew during the war, he began conducting purges. (So many fascist dictators do this, it's almost a cliché...)

As young Javier watches his father perform, the bigtop is suddenly overrun with rebel militiamen. They round up every able bodied man in the tent, give them machine guns and tell them they are going to fight. The clown, still in full clown attire and makeup is handed a machete and told he is to use it. He wants to change clothes but the rebel leader barks at him, “No! A clown with a machete? You'll scare the shit out of them."

He single-handedly wipes out an entire regiment of Franco's army with a sharp blade and plenty of greasepaint.

But he is captured and imprisoned. Young Javier visits his dad through barbed wire fencing on a regular basis and dad tells his son he must follow the family tradition and become a clown.

The film then jumps to 1973 and Javier is grown up, working in a circus. He's trying to fill his dad's oversized clown shoes. The trouble is he cannot -after dealing with so much tragedy in his life- play the role of the “happy'”clown. He has to be the flip side of the coin, the “sad” clown. As played by Carlos Areces, Javier's sad clown is a work of poignant genius. Javier is not pretending to be sad for the sake of the act, he is really one very depressed human being.

His partner/boss is Sergio, who plays the “happy” clown. Sergio humiliates Javier on a regular basis in their act; more importantly he does so in real life as well.

Sergio is in a relationship with Natalia, the trapeze artist. He shows his love by controlling her every move and beating her on a regular basis. Javier is enamored with Natalia as well and wants to save her from the louse, Sergio. Natalia appreciates his concern but always returns to Sergio. This is a form of Chinese water torture to Javier who is becoming -bit by twisted bit- more insane. After repeated attacks on Sergio, Javier is caught and jailed. But no jail can hold a clown with a chip on his shoulder that is as big as his funny shoes. Javier escapes. To say “all hell breaks loose,” would be a gross understatement. The final act, featuring several unbroken minutes of payaso en payaso (clown on clown) action will undoubtedly bring to the fore a whole new crop of coulrophobics. Coulrophobia is the pathological fear of clowns. I have a couple of friends who suffer from this and I plan on buying DVDs of The Last Circus for them. And for myself, who, after seeing “The Last circus” may become a coulrophobic myself.

In the final act I saw one of the most unusual and striking images I've ever seen on film (or anywhere...)

An enraged clown, in his suit and wearing makeshift makeup -for the lack of red greasepaint, Javier makes his cheeks and tongue rosy by applying a hot clothes iron- is shooting his way along with two machine guns, wearing a bandolier and sporting a look in his eyes that makes Charles Manson seem normal.

There is a lot of violence in the film and a bit of it is over the top, as in the scene mentioned above. But the scariest, most disturbing and visceral violence is up close and personal. The kind of pummelings you might expect to see in a bar fight or a street brawl. Body punches that knock a man (or woman) to the ground. Kicks to the ribs. Blunt objects to the teeth. Acid on the face. And ad hoc cosmetic surgery with a clothes iron.

To say I enjoyed The Last Circus would not be a true statement. It's not a film to be “enjoyed.” But I was captivated by the brilliance of the film making and the story has stuck with me for several days. I'll be buying this when it comes out on DVD. Despite the disturbance factor, it's an incredibly well executed piece of film making and deserves multiple viewings. Just don't put it on during a holiday get together with family and friends. Unless you're trying to clear the room.

It's not for everyone, to be sure, but for those who don't mind the painful and bizarre...you're going to want to see The Last Circus. 

"The Rum Diary"

The Rum Diary

Directed by: Bruce Robinson

Starring: Johnny Depp, Michael Rispoli, Giovanni Ribisi, Richard Jenkins, Aaron Eckhart, Amber Heard

Rated: R

There have been literary movements aplenty over the past few centuries, from the Metaphysical Poets in the 17^th century through the Augustans in the 18^th, Romanticism and the Gothic Novelists in the 19^th to the Lost Generation, the Surrealists and the Beat Poets in the 20^th. (There have, of course, been many more.)

All of these movements featured a group of writers that defined and championed the style. Rarely does a movement of the written word come along that can be defined by just one writer.

In an article in the The Boston Globe in 1970, editor Bill Cardoso referred to a Scanlan's Monthly article entitled “The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved” as “pure Gonzo journalism.”

That article was written by Dr. Hunter S Thompson, the man who single-handedly invented the form and remains just about the only writer who could ever legitimately pull it off. If you grew up in the counter culture of the 1960s and '70s, you no doubt read Rolling Stone. The good doctor's work for that magazine and his books, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72 and The Gonzo Papers are the stuff of legend and revered in many circles.

In the 1970s, Richard Nixon was Thompson's nemesis but in later years, after the 2000 election, he focused on another politician, George W. Bush. In the book Kingdom of Fear, Thompson opined: “To say that this goofy child president is looking more and more like Richard Nixon in the summer of 1974 would be a flagrant insult to Nixon.”

Sadly, Thompson committed suicide in 2005. The world of journalism (and the world in general) lost a unique and fearless voice.

While preparing for his role in the film Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, actor Johnny Depp lived with Thompson for a while and the two became fast friends. It was Depp who paid for Thompson's funeral and saw to it that his wishes were carried out: HST was cremated and his ashes were incorporated into state of the art fireworks. The Doctor truly flew to the heavens in a blaze of glory.

With The Rum Diary, Depp once again plays Thompson in a tale that takes place in Puerto Rico, 1960. We see the seeds of Gonzo journalism sprouting in Thompson and get a sense of what led him to the style. For those who are not full blown Thompson fans, the film may not mean all that much, but for the true believers -myself included- it's a fun and exciting ride.

Thompson began writing the novel in the 1960s but it wasn't published until 1998. It was Depp who encouraged Thompson to get the thing published. Depp is also one of the film's producers.

Paul Kemp (a character that is based on Thompson) takes a job at a run down newspaper in Puerto Rico where one of his duties is writing the daily horoscopes. He also covers other subjects and does a piece on a phenomenon that was rampant in Puerto Rico at the time: There were bowling alleys everywhere.

As Kemp travels around the island with his alcoholic photographer, Sala (Michael Rispoli) and the nearly incoherent Moburg (Giovanni Ribisi), he begins to get a sense of the disparity between the have and the have-nots of the country. He is also aware that large American development companies are buying up large parcels of the beautiful land, razing them and constructing hotels, resorts and casinos for the rich tourists from the States. While he wants to publish articles in the paper decrying this practice, it's a no go. The paper is beholden to its advertisers and obviously all of them are in the “have” class.

One assignment entails writing a puff piece about developer Hal Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart). In the course of doing so, Sanderson finds Kemp to be not only interesting but maybe useful. He tries to bribe Kemp to write favorable articles about him and his development plans; essentially pro-Sanderson propaganda. Kemp is tempted to throw his scruples away not only for the money but because he's fallen in love with Sanderson's young, sexy fiancée, Chenault (Amber Heard). Chenault seems interested in him as well, although she may just be the bait Sanderson needs to land the writer.

Director Sanderson, no stranger to these types of characters (see Withnail and I) also wrote the screenplay and wisely lifts a lot of Thompson's words verbatim. As Kemp sits pondering in a bowling alley looking at all of the overweight tourists, his inner dialog refers to them as “beasts of obesity.” Quite an elegant and poetic way of delivering an insult.

In the end Kemp/Thompson has an epiphany and we last see him sailing into the sunset

on his way to unleash Gonzo writing upon an unsuspecting world.

We remember what Kemp said earlier, “I put the bastards of the world on notice that I do not have their best interests at heart,” and we believe him. Thompson did just that, and a lot more.

A note about Giovanni Ribisi's Moburg: Ribisi obviously studied the vocal nuances of singer/songwriter Tom Waits. If they ever make a biopic about Waits, Ribisi is the man.

“The Rum Diary” is getting lukewarm reviews but I enjoyed it, especially when Kemp uttered words you know were written by the Doctor.

Thompson stomped on the terra and now is drifting in the skies.

Remember this motto: “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.”