Al's Omniflick: Al's Omniflick Spotlight: 1964

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Al's Omniflick Spotlight: 1964

To celebrate my 75th posting (as I did for my 50th), I thought it would be fun to break from the ferocious flow of current cinema releases and focus on someone or some period or something else that demands our attention--and memory. Why not turn the clock back 50 years to 1964 to recall some gems from an extraordinary year in movies? I've chosen some films I thought significant (and of course like) but deliberately (and regretfully) left some films off the list. My selection should in no way be interpreted as the BEST of 1964 but merely a cross-section. Feel free to comment on my choices and add your own. I've listed them randomly so please do not read the list as a ranking. Hope you enjoy the list and I also hope it inspires you to revisit some or all of the films.

Ten from Sixty-Four:

1. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Kubrick's film isn't only funny but highly representative of the period's atomic bomb angst and the Cold War U.S./USSR internecine strife. Peter Sellers chameleon-like brilliance, George C. Scott's hilarious turn as General "Buck" Turgidson, and Slim Pickens bronco-busting warhead ride make Dr. Strangelove trippy and timeless fun. Kubrick's wideshot of the sparsely-lit, hyperbolic war-room is strangely beautiful and comic in an otherworldy way.

2. A Fistful of Dollars

Sergio Leone's first-in-a-trilogy western not only helped introduce spaghetti westerns to the world, but it transformed T.V. star Clint Eastwood into an international star. Ennio Morricone's score was also a musical icon of sorts and made the characteristic whistling sounds an integral part of the film and series. Though often critically vilified at the time, the spaghettis have since been copied, parodied and in Quentin Taratino's case, borrowed from. Who can resist the sight of Clint Eastwood's dusty serape and the climactic showdown involving a plate of metal armor?

3. Goldfinger

I found Goldfinger frightening when I was a kid. Seeing a murdered woman's body covered from head to toe in gold paint was not only aesthetically and criminally genius, it also reflected the methods of a scary, psychotic mind that made the killer's passion painfully clear. If that weren't enough, said fiend had an equally-frightening sidekick named Odd Job who could decapitate with his bowler hat. What's not to fear? Only 007 could face such an off-the-wall villain so memorable--and nightmare-inducing.

4. A Hard Day's Night

Director Richard Lester's film was one of those perfect collaborations that wed a comic, inventive mind and a musically-gifted band with Marx Brothers-like tendencies. The Can't Buy Me Love sequence is exhilarating and visually original; Lester used crane-shots, hand-held visuals and aerial cinematography for a breath-taking, hyperkinetic scene. Can't wait to see it again on the big-screen in its 50th anniversary re-release.

5. Band of Outsiders

And what would the Sixties (and modern film) have been without Godard's groundbreaking cinematic techniques? The anarchic spirit of his film and the times is captured beautifully in black and white. The Madison sequence is still one of my favorite dance scenes in film. One of these days I should learn those steps!

6. My Fair Lady

Aside from the humorous moments and melodic numbers, there is a subtle, tragic sadness to the story. Is anyone else bothered by the fact that Eliza Doolittle's father essentially abandons her to her own devices and cares little for his daughter? Sure, he's supposed to be a loveable, indolent slob but he's also selfish and given to mooching off his struggling daughter. Nevertheless, Cukor's directorial flare for staging musical numbers and the lovely sets and costumes leave one feeling a little light-headed, inebriated and wanting to dance all night.

7. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg

Catherine Deneuve was all over the 60s'; demonstrating her acting talents in films like Repulsion and Belle de Jour, but she proved she had a lighter, more romantic side. Jacques Demy's film is France's answer to a Hollywood-dominated genre and it leaves its mark indelibly.

8. Fail Safe

Sidney Lumet's film is Dr. Strangelove's dark and frightening evil twin. With terrific performances by Henry Fonda, Walter Matthau and in his finest moment-Larry Hagman, Fail Safe remains the apotheosis of nuclear war anxiety. That Lumet could film two men locked in a room, talking on a phone, desperately trying to avert a U.S./Soviet nuclear exchange and make it riveting, speaks volumes about his talent as a director. Still a chilling film.

9. Zulu

In Michael Caine's first real feature film, he evinced the charisma and talent we've come to recognize. Director Cy Endfield's dramatization of the the Battle of Rorke's Drift, where 150 British soldiers defended a fort against 3,000+ Zulu warriors is absolutely harrowing, exciting and unforgettable.

10. Red Desert

Antonioni's searing images of Monica Vitti wandering through a Bosch-like industrial hell make for a powerful indictment of the modern world where factory-littered landscapes reduce people to the status of an ant. Terrific performances by Vitti and Richard Harris. An underrated Antonioni film.

Just a few among many other notable 1964 releases: Hitchcock's Marnie, Bunuel's Diary of a Chambermaid, Mary Poppins, The Last Man on Earth and Pasolini's The Gospel According to St. Matthew. There you have it, folks. The list is proof-positive that 1964 was an exceptional year for film and one that should be explored further. I hope you enjoyed this stray-from-the highway adventure. See you soon.

2 comments:

AnonymousJuly 6, 2014 at 9:39 PM
I see you have chosen mainly guy-flicks. I did see ZULU and found it to be a 'keeper' movie. Would like to see some other black and white movie reviews that include a little history about that movie, and other movies made before 1970. Good idea.
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On DVD

Fury (1936)

Director: Fritz Lang

Though we might normally think of the films M and Metropolis when director Fritz Lang becomes the topic of conversation, less known is the legendary director's work in Hollywood. Having fled the ever-growing menace of Nazi Germany for America in the early 1930s', Lang eventually found himself under contract for MGM.

Though his work in Hollywood is very uneven, one standout is Fury, from 1936. Starring Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney, the film's condemnation of mob justice seems spectacularly daring now, considering lynching was still a reality in Depression-era America. We don't see one black person in the film entire but we know precisely for whom Lang film is sympathetic.

Spencer Tracy plays Joe Wilson, who is arrested in a small town while en route to meet his fiance, Katherine (Sylvia Sydney). Suspected of being part of a kidnapping of a little girl, Wilson is arrested on the flimsiest evidence. While he sits in cell; angry and indignant, Katherine is puzzled as to why her fiance hasn't arrived at their prearranged meeting place.

But Wilson's fortunes take a darker and more dangerous turn when a mob--already on edge--is roused to anger. Egging one another on, the mob moves on the jailhouse where Wilson is being held. As the angry gathering becomes a mass, drawing citizens of the town into their swelling numbers, a lynch-mob begins to form. The sheriff, determined to see due process take its course, refuses their forceful demands. Becoming angrier and angrier and bolder and bolder, the crowd storms the jail, overwhelming the sheriff and his deputies. Unable to unlock the cell doors to reach Wilson, the mob sets the jailhouse ablaze as an alternate method of lynching.

Katherine, having arrived on the scene, faints when she sees flames engulf the cell where her fiance is held.

In spite of the mob acting as a faceless entity, its principle members are brought to trial though the town and the defendants maintain a conspiracy of silence, hoping to escape convictions and censure.

A sure acquittal seems imminent until damning evidence assures their guilt. When the majority of the members receive death sentences, Wilson turns up at his brothers, having survived the fire. Knowing the public is unaware of his survival, he vows to stay in hiding to ensure the mob conspirators are executed.

The scene where Katherine, nearly insane from grief, comes face to face with Joe is a powerful moment in the film. As she slowly recovers from her state, she realizes Joe's vindictive determination to see the mob hang is in itself a great injustice.

The story climaxes during a stirring courtroom scene that brings the fascinating story to a close.

I would have never expected Hollywood to make a statement as powerful as Fury made in 1936. Given the fact that lynchings in America at the time went unpunished, the movie railed bravely, in spite of the main character being white rather than black, against what was then the status quo. The Oxbow Incident would make a similar and commensurately powerful statement seven years later.

The film's willingness to peer into the darker side of American life could be partly attributed to Lang, who co-wrote the story and who was no stranger to exploring the darker side of humanity. Having seen evil flower in his home country, it makes sense Lang would choose to tell this story.

Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney give wonderful, emotionally layered performances. Katherine's near descent into madness is depicted touchingly by Sydney. To see Tracy's mild-mannered Wilson become angry and vengeful is heartbreaking.

Even watching Lang's film on a small screen does little to diminish its power. Weeks after the viewing, I still can't shake its indelible images or its angry indictment of one of America's great crimes. One couldn't devise a better title than one it was given eighty years ago. Fury indeed.