El Western es un formato que se presta al lucimiento como director. Planos de paisajes memorables, dominio del ritmo, construcción y desarrollo de personajes, miradas e iconos, sonidos de leyenda, el bien, el mal y su frontera. No es fácil pero si sabes hacer las cosas te queda un producto fetén. Y James Mangold logra hacer de está su mejor película.

Todo buen Western necesita una buena música y aunque la composición de Marco Beltrani pueda ser bastante funcional en algunos momentos (lo cuál no es necesariamente malo) logra llegar al espectador en las situaciones clave. Tanto es así que recibió una nominación a la Mejor Banda Sonora en los Oscar 2007 (también fue nominada a Mejor Sonido).

En definitiva, nos encontramos ante una película muy completa, con excelente interpretaciones (además de Crowe y Bale no hay que olvidar al joven Ben Foster que ya despuntó en la excelente "Alpha Dog" o al casi homenajeado Peter Fonda), una realización de libro (ágil e inteligente en las escenas de acción) y un fondo moral que se trata tan bien que no importaría que haberlo explorado un poco más. Que mejor forma de despedir este post que con una memorable frase de Ben Wade (Russell Crowe):

"A cada hombre le parece correcto su proceder, Byron. El señor juzga los corazones. Provebios 21."

The first debate between Barack Obama and John McCain is over. It won't surprise you that I feel Senator Obama won the debate. I'm going to spare you my thoughts because there is no way I would have said Senator Obama had lost the debate even if he had appeared on stage carrying a bottle of whiskey while singing Danny Boy.

Such is my summary of the debate. You can take it or leave it. By Monday we'll be on to other issues and people will barely recall the debate took place.

(Above is a car buried in the sand on Bolivar Peninsula, part of Galveston County, in the aftermath of Hurricane Ike. For the purposes of this blog, the car represents how Barack Obama buried Senator McCain's postions with the truth. The photo is from the Houston Chronicle.) 

In my home we've already turned off the post-debate coverage--the debate ended maybe half an hour ago--because it is tedious. We have on an infomercial featuring Peter Fonda discussing a Time-Life collection of music of the 1960's. The ad says I'll get extra benefits if I order within the next few minutes. Below is Mr. Fonda, the biker, with Jack Nicholson in Easy Rider.

As Senator Obama moves towards victory, there are a few things I would like my readers to please note---

Well-known political analyst Charlie Cook says Democrats have at least some chance of winning 60 Senate seats.

Sarah Palin still won't explain why women had to pay for rape kits while she was Mayor of Wasilla.

And for those of you looking for the longer view, Hugh Brogan's The Penguin History of the United States is the best one-volume history of the U.S. I have read.

To date, the western has held a captive audience in its sway - mainly because of the charismatic on screen presences of Christian Bale and Russell Crowe - among others.

The tight intelligent script propels the storyline along without too many hitches.

Of course, there are a couple of lapses in judgment (moments of disbelief) but the audience is able to forgive some of the detours and implausible plot twists, so engaging are the characterizations on screen.

All the high-pitched action - and the screen is chock full of it from beginning to end - starts out simply enough.

A gang of outlaws swoop down on a Stage Coach and make off with the booty.

The Sheriff catches up with one of the lone criminals at a local watering hotel in town and faces the task of hauling him to the station where he'll have to embark on an arduous train ride to the State Prison in Yuma with prisoner in tow.

Hence, the title, "3:10 to Yuma".

With the gang leader's cohorts still at large, the law man is forced to hire out a handful of locals to ensure the outlaw is securely placed on the train without incident.

Christian Bale's character, a down-on-his-luck rancher, steps forward to sign up.

Although he's a real sharp shooter, it's the lure of cold hard cash that prompts him to take on the task.

The rancher reckons the payload will save his farm on the brink of foreclosure from the greedy clutches of a corrupt local lender.

Along the treacherous way - there are a number of clever twists and humorous turn-abouts - and enough rough-housing and fancy gun play to satisfy any fan of the western genre hungry for thrills.

Yes, "Yuma" is buoyed up by a well-crafted script and a cast of believable characters who are a delight to second-guess.

What we have here is a fistful of rugged individuals determined to succeed in their goal whatever the sacrifice may be.

There's the tough-as-nails bounty hunter out to haul the wanted man back to Yuma to face justice at any cost, the humble rancher out to earn an honest day's pay, and the crafty - but likable outlaw - biding time 'til his pals set him free.

There are no holds barred here.

And, to its credit, the action-packed western doesn't cop out at the end.

Russell Crowe is at the top of his game here, mainly because his performance is seamless, never stilted or phony.

His acting stint in "Yuma" is worth the price of admission alone.

Bale never disappoints either.

The actor's actor inhabits the role of a tough son-of-a-gun with ease.

In this well-directed, lush screen adventure, the characters not only think - but subtly reveal their conniving machinations convincingly on screen - by virtue of well-thought out story-telling devices.

In fact, on occasion, a character or two transforms right before the eyes.

When this occurs, it's a memorable moment captured on celluloid.

In sum, "Yuma" is a revealing look at the human condition.

But, because the tale flows from the whimsical pen of a screenwriter, not entirely true to life on occasion.

But, the theatre-goer can excuse its follies, because it is so darn rich in its layers elsewhere.

There is a lot of action, some dalliance with time-honored ideas about father-son relationships, and a struggle between the forces of good and evil.

A touch of morality is thrown in for good measure.

Not a great film, but the project is rendered well on screen, and will undoubtedly satisfy across the demographic.

One of the best westerns to come down the pike in a while.

I think I should watch Easy Rider again...with a more open mind.

Hank Miller hadn’t always done casual work down the street at the Lancaster County Farmer’s Market, nor had he always painted houses in the neighborhood. Hank had held a couple of real jobs since getting out of the Navy at the end of the war. But they all ended in a pattern. The people who employed Hank just didn’t seem to understand how things should be done, no matter how many times Hank tried to tell them. For a while he had been a washing machine repairman. His route could have been plotted by tracking the customer complaints that so often followed a visit by Hank. It wasn’t the work. Hank could do the work well enough. He was mechanically gifted, a natural tinkerer. It was more a combination of an attitude and of Hank always having a lot to say. Usually things that people really didn’t want to hear.

My mother dismissed Hank as an “odd duck,” a “strange bird,” but harmless. Even though Hank had fifteen years on me, he tended to be out on the street hanging out with the kids. Despite a contrary disposition, Hank received the deference accorded to someone in a position to bestow goodies. Hank had a car. If you could manage not to annoy Hank, you might be included in the group that would be invited to ride up to Melrose Country Club to sled on the hills. Or you might be among those taken on a run to Bauer’s Ice Cream Parlor up on Rising Sun Avenue in Lawndale. Hank’s car was in keeping with its owner, a 1939 Plymouth coupe, festooned with reflectors and little yellow lights. The lights ran along both running boards, down the seams of the hood and trunk, and outlined the car’s roofline.

Over the course of the summer of 1946, Hank found Jesus. His mother attributed the intensity of Hank’s sudden evangelical zeal to staying up too late at night listening to the radio and smoking cigarettes, neither of which met her approval. In a time and place where churchgoing was more a matter of group identification than of strongly held convictions, Hank’s new enthusiasms taxed the forbearance of his neighbors. Mr. Farr, the Jewish debit insurance man, who came door-to-door collecting the thirty-five to fifty cents a week industrial insurance premiums, learned to plan in advance his escapes when stopping at the Miller house. Hank would be waiting for him armed and ready to win another soul for Christ. Hank of course remained Hank, and soon after joining the Bible Baptist Chapel that met in a storefront on Rising Sun Avenue, he felt it his duty to straighten out the pastor and the elders on what he felt were their incorrect interpretations of the scriptures. Following the schism, the only remaining evidence of Hank’s days as a soldier of the cross was a sticker on the rear window of the ‘39 Plymouth announcing that "Jesus Is Coming – Perhaps Today."

Trumping the car’s colored lights and the Jesus sticker were the set of horn effects Hank had installed and loved to use. They included a wolf whistle and an “oogah” klaxon. Even at eleven or twelve years old, I found it embarrassing. But the alternative was being left behind.

My relationship with Hank took a serious cultivating turn when he bought a used Whizzer motorbike. I wanted to ride that motorbike more than I ever wanted to do anything up that point in my life. Sex was still lying unknown over the horizon. I began going out of my way to engage Hank in conversation, to listen attentively to what he had told them down at the shop, to how he had set some woman straight when she tried to tell him where the washing machine hoses should go. Like a Shakespearian villain, I plotted to maneuver Hank into allowing me to take out the Whizzer. I think I was twelve at the time and according to the law you had to be a licensed driver to operate a motorbike. It took some doing and some time, but one weekday afternoon, with Hank home between jobs, I finally got the go-ahead. His caveat was “don’t get caught.”

This was five years before “The Wild One” and eighteen years before “Easy Rider.” But my image of myself on that putt-putt motorbike anticipated both Brando and Peter Fonda. Unfortunately, the old motorbike conked out on Second Street up near the reservoir. I was at least twenty-five blocks from home and had no idea of how to restart the bike. The walk home pushing the now non-whizzing Whizzer was long and a lot of it was uphill. Hank was pissed that I was gone so long. My tale of bad fortune fell upon deaf ears, and I never again tried to get the use of the motorbike. Two years later when Hank bought an old prewar Harley, I didn’t even ask.

Living next door to where Hank lived with his widowed mother and their arthritic dog was the Myers family. Mr. Myers was a little guy with a belligerent manner. The “Missus” had about four inches and at least seventy-five pounds on him. Their two daughters were also a study in contrasts. The older girl, Elly, was bright and good-natured, but she was plain and nearly as wide as she was tall. Her younger sister, Norma, was a different story. She was, considering the standards of our time and place, a knockout. My mother was less than amused if, when Norma went by, my father so much as raised an eyebrow.

Norma was tall and she was voluptuous. She was blonde and had the look of a Betty Grable knock-off. She was all soft curves and bulges and giggled whenever a grown man spoke to her. Hank Miller had a thing for Norma. He might as well have wished for the moon. I picked up on what was going on one day out on the street when one of the older kids, Matty Mac, made lewd note of Norma’s charms in Hank’s presence. Hank’s face twisted and changed colors. Oblivious, Matty was moving to the next level when Hank broke in and said, “you ever say anything like that again, and I’ll go right over to your house and tell your mother.” This from a twenty-three year old to a thirteen year old. Matty Mac never got another invitation to go anywhere in the 39’ Plymouth with the funny horns and yellow lights.

Things got very bad for Hank when Elly’s sailor boyfriend, Willie, brought home a Navy Yard buddy for Norma. Earl was everything Hank was not, and Norma went for him. He was tall, thin and slinky looking in his dress blue bell-bottoms. He had a sly, shifty look to him, a look that wasn’t helped in any way by the thin pencil mustache he affected. Together, he and Norma looked like characters from a low budget movie. Hank was devastated.

Probably out of desperation, Hank befriended Earl as he had earlier fallen in with Willie, Elly’s suitor. For a while, they were a fivesome, going to the movies as a group or going for rides, all jammed into Hank’s little coupe. The arrangement seemed to work until Norma announced that she wanted to learn how to drive. Since Hank was the only one with a car, since he wasn’t working, and had nothing else to do, he was the obvious choice for the job. What we didn’t realize then was that Hank would have done anything to remain in the proximity of Norma. With a transparent reluctance, he agreed that maybe, just maybe he might find his way clear to spending long periods of time alone with Norma in his car.

To Hank’s dismay, Norma was a quick study. After just a few sessions, she believed she was ready to go out to the Belmont Barracks and take her driving test. Hank wouldn’t hear of it. He began raising questionable, nit-picking criticisms of her performance behind the wheel. His instructions got more and more demanding. Norma came back from one of her driving lesson in tears. In his hopeless quest to keep Norma near, Hank tried to impose standards of driving perfection upon her beyond those required to qualify for the Indy Five Hundred. On a Saturday afternoon, at the corner of Fifth and Chew Streets, shoppers got an unexpected treat. A spectacular, but enraged blonde exited the driver’s side of a prewar Plymouth coupe to an accompaniment of horn and siren effects and shouted “you can take your driving lessons and your crappy car, and you can stick them up your ass.”

Earl either wasn’t aware or didn’t care, but on the day that he and Norma were married at Lindley Methodist, Hank came down with the flu that caused him to miss the ceremony and the reception. With a G. I. Mortgage, the newlyweds bought an unfinished house up in Bucks County, a place we’d only just begun to hear of, Levittown. One cold, dreary Sunday afternoon, I was a part of the group that rode up to Lower Bucks County in Hank’s car to inspect the progress of the construction. We walked on boards strung out over snow filled ditches to get to the house. Inside the unheated house, a beaming Earl and Norma with Elly and Willie at their side began pointing out all the modern features of the place. I was impressed by the idea that someone I knew was actually going to live in a single house. Hank didn’t have much to say, but all the way home down the Boulevard he went on about all the things that were wrong with those kinds of houses.

Directed By: Mark Steven Johnson
Starring: Nicholas Cage / Eva Mendes / Peter Fonda
Rating:

I originally saw Ghost Rider last year during an airplane flight, and immediately hated it. After signing up to review it for Fletch’s CageFest, I was curious if I would find myself enjoying it more the second time around. I believe that many initial reactions for films come from the viewer’s mood at the time and the overall timing of the viewing. The DVD of Ghost Rider was also a director’s cut, so maybe there was something new that I would like more.

I was mistaken. I hate Ghost Rider just as much now as when I first watched it.

Judging from the opening and closing credits, which reminded me of “The Grindhouse Experience”, I wonder what it would have been like Quentin Tarantino had gotten his hands on the project.

In my opinion, Ghost Rider struggled from trying to be two different films: A corny, over-the-top flick and a somewhat realistic approach to the superhero genre. I would have rather seen one or the other, instead of the mismatch that it sadly is.

Nicholas Cage, while not bringing anything new in terms of his acting, played the role fairly well. There were a few scenes in his more ‘demonic’ state that were convincing, though. It seemed to be a glimpse into his earlier acting, which I’m now more interested in seeing.

The main detriment to the film was the villains, sans Peter Fonda as The Devil. Not only were they cliché and lacking in development, but they were just too easily defeated. They could have been killed by a baby using a hammer that he couldn’t lift. For all intents and purposes, they were just there as minor hurdles for our hero to leap over with ease.

Along those same lines, the story was melodramatic and bland to this viewer. The romantic scenes between our main characters at a young age were giggle-worthy. Age didn’t improve it all that much.

That said, the overall themes of the film are worthy brain-food. Too bad the rest of the film doesn’t live up to it.

Llega un nuevo mes y por la ventana de los estrenos se nos cuela un vientecillo fresco, higiénico, rejuvenecedor, que viene a llevarse los pestilentes aromas de esas películas que, a fuerza de languidecer en la cartelera, han acabado pudriéndose sin que nadie les prestara atención. ¿Carne de Oscar? Es pronto para decirlo. Pero sí films dignos y sabrosos:

-El tren de las 3:10: Russel Crowe, Christian Bale (¡este señor no para!), Peter Fonda (de verdad) y Ben Foster en el remake de todo un clásico del western, con James Mangold detrás de las cámaras; personalmente, no veo el momento de presenciar el cara a cara entre el neozelandés y el británico, del que prometen saltar chispas; un forajido, el hombre que debe apresarlo, un tren que sale, como dice el título, a las 3:10 para Yuma... vamos, que la cosa no puede prometer más; cine de calidad, por fin, que ya era hora.

-Che, el argentino: ahora Steven Soderbergh se nos monta un díptico sobre la revolución cubana del que esta es su primera entrega; quienes acudan a la sala para presenciar un Traffic "caribeño", seguramente se llevarán una decepción al encontrarse con un producto bastante más denso; lo mejor es dejarse cautivar por la asombrosa caracterización de Benicio del Toro, al que no extrañaría ver paseándose por la alfombra roja el año que viene, candidatura bajo el brazo a Mejor Actor.

-Viaje al centro de la tierra: al menos, promete ser entretenida; Brendan Fraser, una auténtica paradoja, al ser el héroe más "rellenito", por ser suave, que recuerda la historia del cine, se nos embarca en otra de carreras, saltos y mucha adrenalina, con más filtro infantil todavía que La Momia, para revisar todo un clasicazo de Julio Verne; a los enanos les encantará.

-La Isla de Nim: basada en un éxito editorial, reúne a Jodie Foster (ay, Jodie, quién te ha visto y quién te ve), Abigail Breslin (sí, la cría de Pequeña Miss Sunshine, donde se comía la pantalla) y Gerald Butler, prota de 300 que a este punto presentará también el telediario, y si no al tiempo, que este señor, desde su pelotazo espartano, esta que no para; una isla, mucha fantasía... otra buena opción para los pequeños.

-Uranya: comedia griega protagonizada por la italiana Maria Grazia Cucinotta; no parece que vaya a tener un gran tirón.

-La conjura de El Escorial: él es Jason Isaacs (Malfoy senior en Harry Potter) y ella Julia Ormond (tuvo su momento en los 90: véase Sabrina), pero el resto son españoles (Puigcorbé, arg), incluido el director, Antonio Del Real; sudor frío bajando por la espina dorsal...

3:10 TO YUMA (Estados Unidos, Western - Drama, 120 Minutos)
Dirección:

Valoración: 7/10

Resumen: Cuando Ben Wade, el jefe de una temible banda de forajidos, es capturado, surge otro problema. ¿Quién tendrá el coraje de llevarlo hasta el tren que lo trasladará de una vez por todas a prisión, a sabiendas de que sus sanguinarios compañeros intentarán liberarlo a cualquier precio? Dan Evans, un veterano de la Guerra Civil, que intenta mantener a su familia como puede, se ofrece voluntario. A pesar de los peligros del camino y de las artimañas de Wade, Evans hará todo lo posible por cumplir con su deber.

Crítica: En primer lugar señalar que esta Yuma es un claro ejemplo de que la globalización ha perdido el tren. Que no funciona, o al menos no tan bien como se supone que debería. Simplemente hay que echarle un vistazo al calendario para calcular con asombro el tiempo que por estas latitudes hemos tenido que esperar para poder ver esta película. Con semejante retraso es lógico pensar que alguno se habría olvidado de este filme, nueva muestra de que el western, género de géneros, ha pasado a mejor vida y sólo se muestra entre nosotros los mortales, con breves apariciones como esta. Yuma bien podría definirse como un duelo al sol entre sus dos estrellas que colts y balas aparte, se desarrolla en el terreno psicológico. Russell Crowe y Christian Bale (curiosamente ambos extranjeros) llegaban al rodaje en plena forma, consagrados –tal vez Bale esté disfrutando más de las mieles del éxito este año- como dos de los actores de la industria norteamericana más relevantes. La batalla interpretativa entre ambos se antojaba como el mayor atractivo de la película, y lo cierto es que no defrauda. Crowe se mueve con soltura en la piel de un personaje ambiguo y desconcertante, manipulador, asesino y al mismo tiempo honrado a su manera, que se convierte en el padre de todos los problemas para un humilde y honorable granjero consciente de que la única herencia que recibirán sus descendientes, es esta notable lección moral. En una tierra dibujada como un continuo “sálvese quien pueda”, el deber es un lujo demasiado caro como para ejercerse a la ligera y sin embargo es el único camino para obtener la paz y acallar esa molesta voz llamada conciencia. Mangold construye un digno remake en el que la acción cobra mayor peso, pero que no pierde el magnetismo ni la esencia del original y en el que como en el clásico, no falta una moraleja final que logra que la larga espera haya merecido la pena.

Por fin viernes. En unas horas nos vamos de fin de semana y qué mejor plan para esta noche que una buena cena con amigos y un cine. Las opciones son jugosas esta semana, camaradas...

Título: 'EL TREN DE LAS 3:10'
Dirección: James Mangold.
País: USA.
Año: 2007.
Duración: 117 min.
Género: Western, drama.
Interpretación: Russell Crowe (Ben Wade), Christian Bale (Dan Evans), Logan Lerman (William Evans), Ben Foster (Charlie Prince), Peter Fonda (Byron McElroy), Vinessa Shaw (Emma Nelson), Alan Tudyk (Doc Potter), Luce Rains (Weathers), Gretchen Mol (Alice Evans), Dallas Roberts (Grayson Butterfield).
Guión: Halsted Welles, Michael Brandt y Derek Haas; basado en un relato corto de Elmore Leonard.
Música: Marco Beltrami.
Sinopsis:Dan Evans (Christian Bale) es un típico ranchero de un pueblo de Arizona y veterano de la Guerra de Secesión que, para aliviar sus penurias económicas, decide escoltar al peligroso forajido Ben Wade (Russell Crowe) mientras llega el tren que tiene que llevarlo ante la justicia. Pero no todo saldrá bien y la violencia no tardará en aparecer. Se inicia una dramática lucha psicológica entre ambos hombres mientras los compañeros del forajido intentan liberarle. Remake del clásico "El tren de las 3:10" de 1957, dirigida por Delmer Daves y protagonizada por Glenn Ford.

¿Cómo le ponemos al niño?: Inocencio, faltaría más. Porque hay que ser muy inocente ( o tener pasta de sobra) para ir a ver esta peli al cine, y no precisamente porque sea mala. Un año de retraso entre el estreno americano y el español, ahí es nada. El que no la haya visto ya en dvd es porque no le ha dado la gana.

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Título: 'CHE: EL ARGENTINO'
Dirección: Steven Soderbergh.
Países: USA, Francia y España.
Año: 2008.
Duración: 131 min.
Género: Drama.
Interpretación: Benicio del Toro (Che), Demián Bichir (Fidel Castro), Santiago Cabrera (Camilo Cienfuegos), Elvira Mínguez (Celia Sánchez), Julia Ormond, Jorge Perugorría (Joaquín), Edgar Ramírez (Ciro Redondo), Victor Rasuk (Rogelio Acevedo), Armando Riesco (Benigno), Catalina Sandino Moreno (Aleida Guevara), Rodrigo Santoro (Raúl Castro), Unax Ugalde (Pequeño Cowboy), Yul Vázquez (Alejandro Ramírez).
Guión: Peter Buchman; inspirado en "Pasajes de la guerra revolucionaria" de Ernesto "Che" Guevara.
Música: Alberto Iglesias.
Fotografía: Peter Andrews.
Sinopsis:En 1952, el general Fulgencio Batista orquestó un golpe de estado en Cuba, tomó el control del gobierno del país y suspendió las elecciones. Su corrupta dictadura estaba respaldada por un ejército de 40.000 hombres, pero un joven abogado llamado Fidel Castro intentó incitar a la rebelión popular asaltando el cuartel Moncada el 26 de julio de 1953. El ataque no tuvo éxito y Castro pasó dos años en la cárcel antes de ir al exilio en México. Entre tanto, un joven idealista argentino llamado Ernesto Guevara se había involucrado en la actividad política de Guatemala. En 1954, cuando el gobierno legítimo de Jacobo Álvarez fue depuesto por una operación militar organizada por la CIA, Guevara escapó a México. Un conocido de Guatemala le puso en contacto con un grupo de revolucionarios cubanos en el exilio. El 13 de julio de 1955 tuvo lugar un evento silencioso pero con grandes repercusiones en la historia de la Revolución Cubana. En un humilde apartamento de la ciudad de México, se conocieron Ernesto Guevara y Fidel Castro, presentados por Raúl Castro, el hermano pequeño de Fidel. Guevara se alistó inmediatamente en una misión de guerrilla destinada a derrocar al dictador cubano. Los cubanos apodaron al joven rebelde "Che", una conocida expresión argentina. El 26 de noviembre de 1956, Fidel Castro navegó a Cuba con ochenta rebeldes, de los que sólo sobrevivieron doce. Uno de ellos era el Che, que se había unido al grupo como médico acompañante. El Che se familiarizó rápidamente con el arte de la guerra de guerrillas y demostró ser un combatiente indispensable. Se lanzó de lleno al conflicto y recibió el apoyo de sus camaradas y del pueblo cubano. La película termina en los albores del Año Nuevo de 1959, con el Che celebrando la victoria revolucionaria en Santa Clara. Los rebeldes habían derrocado a Batista.

¿Cómo le ponemos al niño?: Pues Oscar, evidentemente. Tan sólo tenéis que echarle un vistazo al tráiler para ver que lo han montado (musiquita emotiva incluida) para que el regreso de Soderbergh vaya de cabeza a la próxima ceremonia de los premios. Desde luego, la caracterización de Benicio del Toro y las masas que mueve un personaje como el Che hacen de esta peli el estreno de la semana.

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Título: 'LA CONJURA DEL ESCORIAL'
Dirección: Antonio del Real.
País: España e Italia.
Año: 2008.
Duración: 130 min.
Género: Drama.
Interpretación: Jason Isaacs (Antonio Pérez), Julia Ormond (princesa de Éboli), Jürgen Prochnow (Espinosa), Jordi Mollà (Mateo Vázquez), Joaquim de Almeida (Juan Escobedo), Juanjo Puigcorbé (Felipe II), Blanca Jara (Damiana), Fabio Testi (duque de Alba), Rosana Pastor (doña Juana de Coello), Pablo Puyol (Insausti), Concha Cuetos (doña Bernardina), Anthony Peck (Tiépolo).
Guión: Manuel Mir, Antonio del Real, Juan Antonio Porto y Marta Rivera de la Cruz.
Producción ejecutiva: María José Muñoz.
Música: Alejandro Vivas Puig.
Fotografía: Carlos Suárez.
Sinopsis: "La conjura de El Escorial" es un thriller histórico con intrigas políticas y policíacas, encuadrado en las luchas y disputas entre la Casa de Alba y sus fieles por un lado, y la Casa de los Mendoza con Antonio Pérez (Jason Isaacs) y la princesa de Éboli (Julia Ormond) por otro. La noche del lunes de Pascua de 1578, unos asesinos a sueldo emboscan a Juan de Escobedo, dándole muerte. "La conjura de El Escorial" es una película histórica basada en hechos reales, donde el poder y la muerte conspiran en la Corte de Felipe II.

¿Cómo le ponemos al niño?: Goya, cómo no, porque estoy seguro que más de uno le caerá en la próxima ceremonia de los premios del cine español. Personalmente no espero nada de esta producción y la temática no es de mis preferidas. Me la reservo para cuando salga en dvd, que la vida está muy cara.

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Título:'LA ISLA DE NIM'
Dirección: Jennifer Flackett y Mark Levin.
País: USA.
Año: 2008.
Duración: 96 min.
Género: Aventuras, comedia.
Interpretación: Abigail Breslin (Nim), Jodie Foster (Alexandra Rover), Gerard Butler (Alex Rover/Jack).
Guión: Jennifer Flackett, Mark Levin, Paula Mazur y Joseph Kwong; basado en la novela de Wendy Orr.
Música: Patrick Doyle.
Fotografía: Stuart Dryburgh.
Sinopsis: Cualquier cosa puede pasar en la isla de Nim, un lugar donde todo crece a lo loco, sobre todo la imaginación. Aquí, una niña con mucho carácter llamada Nim (Abigail Breslin), rodeada de sus exóticos amigos animales, de libros y de leyendas, lleva una increíble vida tropical que refleja la de su personaje literario favorito: Alex Rover, el primer aventurero del planeta. La niña idolatra a Rover. Cuando un peligro inesperado se cierne sobre su padre, que es científico, y la isla secreta en la que viven, Nim pide ayuda al creador de su admirado héroe. Pero Nim no sabe que el aclamado autor de la serie de aventuras es Alexandra Rover (Jodie Foster), una mujer tímida y nada valiente que vive recluida en un piso de una gran ciudad. Alexandra se atreve a aventurarse en el mundo real y Nim se enfrenta al mayor reto de su corta edad, para lo que ambas deberán imitar al modélico y ficticio Alex Rover, además de apoyarse mutuamente, para conquistar la isla de Nim.

¿Cómo le ponemos al niño?: Dolores, porque tiene que ser doloroso ver a Leónidas vestido como un Indiana Jones del todo a cien y a Jodie Foster participando en semejante ñoñada. Hasta el talento de Abigail Breslin está por encima de este tipo de productos. En fin, todos tendrán letras de yate que pagar...

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Título: 'PALABRAS QUE VIENEN DEL MAR'
Dirección y guión: Ángel Amigo.
País: España.
Año: 2008.
Duración: 70 min.
Género: Documental.
Música: Álvaro Fernández Gaviria.
Fotografía: Klara Intxausti.
Sinopsis: Verano de 2007, el velero "Urdaneta" navega por aguas del Golfo de Bizkaia. A bordo de la embarcación se ha puesto en marcha una experiencia de reinserción de jóvenes problemáticos en cuyo tratamiento se incluye el mar como terapia. A lo largo del documental, los propios jóvenes, la tripulación y el equipo directivo y de terapeutas desgranan los sentimientos y experiencias surgidas de una convivencia forzada tan gratificante como, a veces, insoportable.

¿Cómo le ponemos al niño?: Mira, entre tú y yo, a este lo doy en adopción y que le ponga nombre otro.

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Título: 'VIAJE AL CENTRO DE LA TIERRA'
Dirección: Eric Brevig.
País: USA.
Año: 2008.
Duración: 92 min.
Género: Aventuras, fantástico.
Interpretación: Brendan Fraser (Trevor Anderson), Josh Hutcherson (Sean Anderson), Anita Briem (Hannah), Seth Meyers (profesor Alan Kitzens), Jean-Michell Paré (Max Anderson), Jane Wheeler (Elizabeth), Frank Fontaine (hombre mayor), Giancarlo Caltabiano (Leonard), Kaniehtiio Horn (chica Gum-Chewing).
Guión: Michael Weiss, Jennifer Flackett y Mark Levin; basado en la novela "Viaje al centro de la Tierra" de Julio Verne.
Música: Andrew Lockington.
Fotografía: Chuck Schuman
Sinopsis: Durante una expedición científica en Islandia, el visionario científico Trevor Anderson (Brendan Fraser), su sobrino Sean (Josh Hutcherson) y su hermosa guía regional, Hannah (Anita Briem), quedan atrapados en una cueva. La única posibilidad de escapar de allí es adentrándose en las entrañas de la Tierra. Recorriendo mundos jamás vistos, el trío se encuentra cara a cara con criaturas increíbles. Pero la actividad volcánica del lugar es cada vez más intensa, por lo que deberán encontrar urgentemente una manera de poder volver a la superficie antes de que sea demasiado tarde.

¿Cómo le ponemos al niño?: Julio, aunque apuesto a que Verne volvería a meterse en la tumba si viera esta adaptación de su obra. Brendan Fraser vuelve con otro producto familiar mientras 'La Momia 3' aún colea en nuestras carteleras, lo que no sirve de mucho aval para pagar la entrada de esta nueva aventura "con niño", por mucho que también la exhiban en 3D.

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*Puedes consultar la cartelera de tu localidad pinchando aquí.

Fuente: LaButaca

Fdo: Stan

With the end of the two major parties' conventions last week, we got to thinking about fictitious presidents who, unfortunately for America, only exist in the movies in which they appear. By that we mean not actual presidents of the past played by actors but rather characters in movies that we'd "make real" if we could. We are cursed to live in interesting times, to quote the old Chinese expression, and we could use leaders with their kind of conviction and vision.

The usual caveats apply below, the same ones that are starting to sound like a stump speech: no particular order, purely subjective, blah blah blah... And to quote Richard Nixon, let me make one thing perfectly clear: this list is bipartisan, and intended as totally objective regarding its' members' political affiliation.

1. The President, Fail-Safe (1964) Played by: Henry Fonda. A great leader because: He makes the hardest decision of all time. When a computer error irretrievably sends a U.S. bomber squadron to drop atomic warheads on Moscow, Fonda's nameless president sweats out the bombers' approach in a bunker far underground, connected to the Kremlin via telephone and translator (Larry Hagman). Faced with all-out Soviet retaliation, he makes an unthinkable choice, one with a terrible logic that nonetheless carries a staggering cost. 20/20 Hindsight: The prospect of accidental nuclear war was absurdly plausible throughout the 1960s, and a favorite subject of books and cinema including Stanley's Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb. But here director Sidney Lumet loads on the realistic details and gradually building pace until the reality of such a mistake takes a palpable toll on the audience (spoiler warning):

2. James Marshall, Air Force One (1997) Played by: Harrison Ford. A great leader because: He's a badass. From his opening speech declaring the U.S. will hunt down terrorists with impunity to his bravado defending the titular jet from hijackers, Ford's Marhsall is basically President Han Solo. 20/20 Hindsight: Gritty and self-determined, this kind of presidential chest-thumping was likely more appealing eleven years ago, before the current president's "Mission Accomplished" fiasco or the long years of Monica Lewinski and still before 9/11. Whatever, Ford as president was an idea for its time: posters read simply, "Harrison Ford is the president of the United States;" the film ultimately grossed $172 million. 

3. Dave Kovic, Dave (1993) Played by: Kevin Kline A great leader because: He's a president of the people, for the people. Temp agency staffer Kovic gets installed into the Oval Office after the real president, whom he looks just like, is incapacitated during an indiscreet moment. But in sweetest film-fable form, Kovic starts running the country his own way, a way largely based on simple wisdom and populist optimism. Of course he has to stand up to a bevy of challenges, including a Karl Rove-like chief of staff (Frank Langella) as well as constant scrutiny from the media, the real president's wife (Sigourney Weaver) and a dour Secret Service agent (Ving Rhames). 20/20 Hindsight: Possibly superfluous among the "new day dawning" atmosphere of Clinton's first year in office, this very Kapra-esque dramedy views today like a pretty bauble from another era, which is probably what director Ivan Reitman intended all along.

4. Jackson Evans, The Contender (2000) Played by: Jeff Bridges A great leader because: Like Teddy Roosevelt and Jack Kennedy before him, Evans is a man of principle unafraid to play hardball to push real change through myopic government. His championing of atheist, pro-choice Senator Laine Hanson (Joan Allen) as a replacement Vice President ignites a firestorm of controversy, until he steps in and shames Congress with an oratory pimp slap upside the head. 20/20 Hindsight: Bridges, who incredibly has never won an Oscar, was thought a shoo-in for Best Supporting Actor (Benicio Del Toro won for Traffic.) The film is sometimes criticized as dogmatic and partisan. Just the same, it was an overdue breakthrough for Allen and provoked plenty of debate upon its release, just three weeks before the 2000 presidential election.

5. Tom Beck, Deep Impact (1998) Played by: Morgan Freeman A great leader because: Serene and intelligent, Beck's leadership helps America prepare for literally the end of the goddamned world. Even admitting the military had been preparing a counterstrike against the looming meteor for years doesn't seem disingenuous once Beck reveals its purpose. 20/20 Hindsight: Pre-millennium tension was expressed via disaster movies throughout 90s cinema, and Deep Impact was a marginally more intelligent than average approach to the Doomsday scenario. It also features a black president, while The Contender promises a female Vice President. Less than a decade later, one of these will be a reality this November.

6. Jordan Lyman, Seven Days In May (1964) Played by: Fredric March A great leader because: He does what's right, not what's popular or even safe for his own well-being. As President Lyman prepares to sign a bitterly controversial disarmament treaty with the Soviet Union, his administration finds itself the target of a military coup d'etat led by Air Force Joint Chief of Staff General Mattoon Scott (Burt Lancaster). Lyman resists Scott's aggression the same way he refuses to buckle to partisan criticism - by staying true to what's best for the Republic. More than a "let history judge me" autocrat, Lyman acts according to his own conscience, despite all consequences. 20/20 Hindsight: A military takeover of the government seems unlikely today, but consider how unpopular international diplomacy has become in favor of saber rattling and the film remains ahead of its time.

7. Bill McKay, The Candidate (1972) Played by: Robert Redford A great leader because: There's got to be a better way! McKay tells it like it is with the same angry sarcasm Redford played so well throughout the 70s and early 80s. Every so often Mr. Sundance mentions doing a sequel depicting the last days of the McKay presidency. Bring it on, already! 20/20 Hindsight: Though technically detailing JFK-esque reform lawyer McKay's run for the California Senate seat, this so-70s-it-hurts satire by director Michael Ritchie (Fletch, The Bad News Bears) has remained hilariously prescient thanks to the existence of would-be candidates like Gary Hart, Dan Quayle, John Edwards, et al - any young up and comer who assumes the mantle of Kennedy youth and glamour. McKay's meltdown into senseless, jingo-heavy slogans - briefly shown in the clip below - is a classic moment of political satire.

Full disclosure: We're aware this topic has been covered before - several times - by other sites. We saltue them for their inspiration, and for charting a course into this fascinating cinematic niche. Thank you, and may God bless America.

 - Michael Kabel 

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Boy meets girl. Boy's father gets sick. Boy sells soul to the devil. Boy sacrifices future with girl to save father. Boy becomes devil's bounty hunter. Boy saves the day. This is  the story of Ghost Rider!

PLOT:

In the days of the American Old West, Mephistopheles (Peter Fonda) sent his bounty hunter of the damned, the Ghost Rider, to retrieve a contract for a thousand corrupt souls from the town of San Venganza. Because such a large amount of souls would cause Hell on Earth if taken on by one demon, the Rider refused to give the contract — and therefore, the souls — to Mephistopheles; instead, he outran Mephistopheles and hid himself and the contract.

A century and a half later, Mephistopheles reaches out to seventeen-year-old stunt motorcycle rider Johnny Blaze (Matt Long/Nicolas Cage), offering to cure his father's lung cancer in exchange for Johnny's soul. Johnny inadvertently signs the contract when a drop of his blood lands on it. His father's cancer is cured, but he dies that same day in a horrific bike crash. Johnny accuses Mephistopheles of causing his father's death, but Mephistopheles just considers their contract fulfilled. Years later, Johnny has become a stunt rider famous for walking away from crashes unharmed.

During his next stunt, Johnny meets his childhood sweetheart Roxanne (Raquel Alessi/Eva Mendes), now a journalist, and holds a dinner date with her that evening. At the same time, Blackheart (Wes Bentley), Mephistopheles' son, comes to Earth to find the lost contract and use its power to overcome his father. He calls forth the fallen angels known as the Hidden, a trio of demon spirits who represent three of the four elements — the water elemental Wallow (Daniel Frederiksen), the earth elemental Gressil (Laurence Breuls), and the air elemental Abigor (Mathew Wilkinson) — to act as his allies. In response, Mephistopheles makes Johnny the new Ghost Rider, offering Johnny his soul in return for defeating Blackheart. Johnny confronts Blackheart at a train station where the contract was once buried, and kills Gressil while the others escape. On his way out, he uses his 'Penance Stare', a supernatural ability which sears the pain of all whom a person has harmed into the wrongdoer's soul, on a mugger, leaving the man catatonic.

The next day, Johnny wakes up in a cemetery chapel, where he meets a man called the Caretaker (Sam Elliott), who seems to know all the history of the Ghost Rider. When he arrives home, Johnny finds Roxanne and tries to explain his situation, which is why he missed their date. She leaves in anger and disbelief at his tale. The police arrive and take Johnny into custody for his connection to the damage done to the city and the deaths caused by Blackheart. He transforms into Ghost Rider in the cell and escapes to track down Blackheart. He fights and kills Abigor, in full view of Roxanne and much of the police force. Observing the scene after obtaining the location of the contract, Blackheart realizes that Roxanne is Johnny's weakness.

Johnny goes for advice to the Caretaker, who tells him of his predecessor, Carter Slade, a Texas Ranger who was a man of honor before his greed placed him before the gallows for his misdeeds. Slade made a deal with Mephistopheles to break free; in return, Slade became the Ghost Rider who hid the contract of San Venganza. The Caretaker then warns Johnny to stay away from those whom Blackheart and the fallen angels can use against him. This advice is too late; Johnny returns home to find that Blackheart already has Roxanne. During their resulting fight, Johnny finds that his Penance Stare has no effect on Blackheart, who has no (human) soul. Blackheart threatens to kill Roxanne if Johnny does not deliver the contract to him.

Johnny returns to the Caretaker to obtain the contract. Though reminded of the consequences, Johnny asks the Caretaker to trust him. The Caretaker then reveals that he is Carter Slade, having held on to his last bit of power in expectation of this moment. He informs Johnny that God is on his side because he made his deal with Mephistopheles because of love rather than greed or desperation, and shows Johnny the way to San Venganza. They ride together into the desert in Ghost Rider form. They stop a short distance from the town, and Slade gives Johnny his shotgun and the warning to "stick to the shadows" before fading away.

After killing Wallow, the last of the Hollow, Johnny gives the contract to Blackheart. He quickly transforms into Ghost Rider in an effort to subdue Blackheart, but dawn comes and he is rendered powerless. Blackheart uses the contract to absorb the 1,000 souls into his body, taking the name "Legion." Legion is now more than a match for Johnny, but is distracted when Roxanne uses Johnny's discarded shotgun to separate them. After she fruitlessly fires off its remaining ammunition, Johnny takes the gun and moves it into the shadows. This allows him to create a "hellfire shotgun" to blast Legion apart. Legion reforms, but Johnny moves in and uses his Penance Stare, made effective by the thousand souls inhabiting Legion's body, to render him catatonic. Johnny turns away from Roxanne, ashamed of his monstrous appearance, but she shows him that she is not afraid of what Johnny has become.

Mephistopheles appears and gives Johnny his soul, offering to take back the curse of the Ghost Rider. Johnny refuses, saying that he will use his power against Mephistopheles, and against all harm that comes to the innocent. Infuriated of being robbed of the power, Mephistopheles vows to make Johnny pay, to which Johnny in response recites his favorite saying: "You can't live in fear." Mephistopheles then disappears, taking Blackheart's body with him. Johnny and Roxanne share some parting words at the tree on which Johnny carved "J&R FOREVER" at the beginning of the film. Roxanne then tells Johnny that he got his second chance before sharing a final kiss with him. Johnny then rides away on his motorcycle, now a legend in his own right. The film concludes with a rendition of the song "Ghost Riders in the Sky".

REVIEW:

As an avid comic reader back in the day, I must admit that I wasn't too familiar with Ghost Rider until a friend of mine let me read one of his in exchange for one of my Flash comics. It was worth the trade. This move lives up to the comic, which is something Marvel movies seem to do better than those that come out of the DC universe.

The movie starts off a bit slow for my taste. Ghost Rider himself could have been designed better, and they mixed origins, but other than, I have no complaints with the film.

Of course, there was the scene where the cops accused Johnny Blaze of killing everyone and arrested him, proving how paranoid and stupid cops are.

some people didn't care for Nicholas Cage in this role. I'm a little torn. I understand why they didn't want him, but at the same time, I think he did pretty good with it. for once it was good to see someone playing a role that they actually grew up on.

Sam Elliot brings his A game as the Caretaker. I just which he would have had more screen time, but what can you do, right?

A sequel has been greenlit. Don't know if it'll get made or be held up in limbo like the Daredevil sequel. Time will tell!

5 out of 5 stars

Si alguien no ha visto todavía la película Easy Rider no sé a qué está esperando.

Hoy, en vez de echarme la siesta, la he vuelto a ver, y ya he perdido la cuenta de las veces que lo he hecho desde que me compré el DVD. ¿Treinta? ¿Cuarenta?

Hay que verla no sólo por ser un mito, por ser un icono de la contracultura americana de los años 60. Hay que hacerlo también por la excelente banda sonora que acompaña cada una de las imágenes.

Puede parecer que el argumento no daría mucho de sí: dos tipos trapichean con cocaína, hacen un buen negocio, se compran unas motos tipo chopper y emprenden un viaje con ellas por la américa profunda. Pero Dennis Hopper (director de la película) y Peter Fonda (protagonista principal y guionista del proyecto) le dan un toque casi mágico a ese viaje iniciático, le echan huevos y se despachan a gusto sobre el mundo de las drogas (los protagonistas son traficantes y tienen al final un escarceo muy chungo con el LSD), los ideales hippies, la américa granjera más retrógrada, la represión de la autoridad... El ansia de libertad se convierte entonces en el leit-motiv de la película y a través de la música y los fantásticos paisajes que contemplan a bordo de las motos vas sucumbiendo, casi hipnotizado, hasta el fatal desenlace final.

La banda sonora se sale en todos los sentidos. Hendrix, The Band, Electric Prunes, The Byrds... se integran magníficamente en el viaje de los dos moteros traficantes. La película empieza con The Pusher y casi seguido Born to Be Wild, ambas canciones de Steppenwolf, un comienzo así sólo puede deparar algo bueno. Hace poco Peter Fonda decidió poner a la venta una nueva versión del DVD con una duración mayor, exclusivamente para recuperar canciones que fueron eliminadas en el montaje original, con gente como Bob Dylan o David Crosby.

Os dejo uno de los mejores momentos chopper con el fantástico folk psicodélico "I Wasn't Born to Follow" de los Byrds de fondo:

Para el que quiera ver la película online, sin necesidad de comprarla o piratearla, lo podéis hacer aquí:

Parte 1

Parte 2

Parte 3

Parte 4

Direção: James Mangold

Roteiro: Halsted Welles, Michael Brandt, Derek Haas

Elenco: Russell Crowe, Christian Bale, Ben Foster, Logan Lerman, Peter Fonda, Lennie Loftin, Vinessa Shaw

O faroeste é um gênero pouco trabalhado hoje em dia, já que foi explorado excessivamente até a primeira metade do século passado. "Os Indomáveis" é um remake de "Galante e Sanguinário" de 1957 e foi dirigido por James Mangold que conta com um bom roteiro e com as atuações de Russel Crowe, Christian Bale e Ben Foster. O carisma do personagem de Russel Crowe é inegável, mesmo sendo o vilão da história a dualidade dele faz com que esperemos que se de bem no final das contas. Um único porem nessa história toda é que o final parece um pouco meloso.

Dan Evans (Christian Bale) é um fazendeiro que acaba de ter sua propriedade atacada pelos capangas de Glen Hollander (Lennie Loftin), um poderoso homem na região. Dan sai com seus dois filhos, William (Logan Herman) e Mark (Benjamin Petry) atrás do seu gado que foi afugentado pelos homens de Hollander. Quando encontram os animais, eles testemunham um assalto comandado pelo famoso ladrão Ben Wade (Russell Crowe), como não tem nada com isso e preocupados com as próprias vidas, Dan e seus filhos apenas observam de longe e quando os assaltantes se afastam, eles vão ajudar Byron McElroy (Peter Fonda), um sobrevivente do ataque. Dan leva Byron até a cidade para receber cuidados médicos e aproveitando a ida, procura Hollander para conversar, mas a tentativa não da em nada e quando ele entra em um bar, cai de cara com Ben Wade, que naquele momento está sendo cercado pelo xerife. Capturado, ben será levado até uma outra cidade para pegar o trem das 3:10 para Yuma, mas essa tarefa não será fácil, já que seus comparsas vão fazer de tudo para libertá-lo. Dan aceita 200 dólares para fazer parte da escolta e pretende com o dinheiro salvar sua fazenda e a sua família.

No caminho até o trem, o grupo será atacado por apaches e por outros inimigos de Ben e é ai que um pequeno elo entre ele e Dan começa a se formar, uma espécie de Síndrome de Estolcomo. Ao chegarem na cidade onde o trem vai partir para Yuma, Dan vai ter que se desdobrar para cumprir sua tarefa, já que os capangas de Ben tomaram a cidade e com um incentivo financeiro aos moradores o número de opositores praticamente triplica. No meio do tiroteiro e  da correria para chegar a estação, Dan e Ben trocam alguns segredos e o respeito entre eles cresce e é isso que explica a atitude de Ben alguns minutos depois com seus capangas.

"Os Indomáveis" foi indicado a 15 premiações, inclusive dois Oscars e venceu duas delas. É um bom filme, bom faroeste e um bom remake, presta.

It's unclear if the film was essentially a western with bikes replacing horses or a post-classical Hollywood male-bonding LSD joy ride.  No matter what your viewpoint, the film was added to the U.S. National Film Registry as having been deemed "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant." 

However, this post isn't about how everyone should go down to your local video store and rent Easy Rider to be a rebel.  It's about how some family's are severely touched by demons and despair in large quantities that's unequal to the general population. 

For example, earlier this year the Easy Rider producer and lawyer, William Hayward died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.  He was 66-years old and the suicide occurred in a trailer where he was living in Castaic, CA, an unincorporated area near Los Angeles.

William "Bill" Hayward was the youngest of three kids and born in 1942.  His growing up years were chaotic. There were several moves between California and Connecticut with the last to Greenwich, Connecticut, in 1948 after his mother, Margaret Sullavan was divorced from Leland Hayward. Sullavan wanted her children to have "normal" childhoods, and isolated them from the "evils of Hollywood". The children lived in a separate house with a nurse (nanny) and a cook. A tutor taught Hayward and his siblings at home for the first few years of their life. When they were older, his sisters, Brooke and Bridget attended Greenwich Academy a private girls school, where Jane Fonda was a classmate. Bill Hayward and Peter Fonda attended Brunswick, a boy's school around the corner from Greenwich Academy.  Interestingly is the fact that Sullavan was married to Henry Fonda for less than a year in 1931.

In the fall of 1953, the Hayward children (Brooke, Bridget and Bill) all left home to attend boarding schools. Brooke attended Madeira, a private girls school in McLean, Virginia; Bridget went to Gstaad, Switzerland and Bill to Lawrenceville in New Jersey. Brooke attended Madeira her junior and senior years, graduating in 1955 going on to Vassar and Yale.

Bill's mother, Margaret Sullavan died of an accidental drug overdose January 1, 1960. At the time, both Bridget and Bill were patients in a mental asylum, Austen Riggs in Stockbridge, Massachusetts and Menninger's in Topeka, Kansas, respectively. In October 1960, Bridget Hayward died of a drug overdose just 8 months after her mother. Leland Hayward died in 1971 at home, after an extensive hospital stay following an unsuccessful surgery.

At one point and according to Brooke Hayward's bio, she was married to husband number two, Dennis Hopper, 1961-1969; they had one child, a daughter, Marin. And as you likely know Hopper worked closely with Peter Fonda (a long-time Sullavan/Hayward family friend) and Bill Hayward on the movie Easy Rider.

Bill Hayward also produced "Haywire" (1980) for CBS, an account of his mothers suicide based on a memoir by his sister Brooke.  In Haywire, Brooke wrote of a conversation she had with Bill in which he said if he ever committed suicide, he would do so by shooting himself in the heart....which is exactly what he did.

This was a family whose talent was unfortunately outshined by its demons.

Replica "Captain America" bike photo by Randy Leffingwell and courtesy of the 1969 Easy Rider film.  Photo taken at the Harley-Davidson Museum.  (the two originals were destroyed during filming, according to museum literature).

Haywire book courtesy of Amazon.com

Cardboard car chase movie, not nearly as good as 'Two-Lane Blacktop'. The three leads, including a cruising Peter Fonda, are too clean-cut to pass as 7-11 robbing, nascar-wanna be's plus accompanying flusy. I refused to buy in to some existential, deeper meaning; it's not there. I just sat back and enjoyed the cars and the engine noises.

"We wanna be free! We wanna be free to do what we wanna do. We wanna be free to ride. We wanna be free to ride our machines without being hassled by The Man! ... And we wanna get loaded. And we wanna have a good time. And that's what we are gonna do. We are gonna have a good time... We are gonna have a party"

The namesake of this blog, Andrew, once told me that the band Coldplay "is good at what they do." At the time, I didn't grasp the irony of his statement. Now I blush when I recall that conversation. Easy Rider, for what it is, is just about perfect; but that's a statement void of any irony.

A scene early in the film has Wyatt and Billy acting as drug-dealing middlemen between some Mexican dudes and some "highbrow" customers. That niche that the characters fill embodies not only them, but also Hopper and Fonda as filmmakers at the time: no home, unwelcome anywhere, neither high nor low. The first of many scenes of the two men riding hogs sets the film's mood: free-ridin', groovin' to rock 'n roll (in this case "Born To Be Wild"), and not so much "breaking" the 180° rule as shattering it. László Kovács' handheld-feeling cinematography must have been fairly novel, at least for a film that turned out to be somewhat mainstream. The flash-editing had a violent effect, but certainly should be lauded for its apparent originality. Sound in the film was subservient to the soundtract, often with diegetic sound cutting out completely to make way for the music. Most of the first half of the film is outdoors, contributing to the free-as-a-bird feel. As the two men approach their demise, they are found indoor or shrouded more often. Accompanying the outdoor scenes are wide-open shots of very big scenery.

The film did well to portray Wyatt and Billy as embodying something of America itself - in a class of its own, and individualistic and yet welcoming to all. Wyatt's bike, helmet, and jacket even bear the flag, just as his nickname "Captain America" confirms his identification with the USA. The boys also illustrate the impossibility of their own way of life. It's not that their dream was a failure, but that the world wasn't ready for them. That Hopper and Fonda's film not only was realized but also succeeded is an interesting point in relation to the film's story.

Some have no doubt commented on this being an example of the "buddy movie" that feminist film theory has pointed out. The woman who appear in the film could be seen as obligatory and empty, yet the males' attachment to one another fills the feminine void. Billy and George (Jack Nicholson) become darn-near cuddly by the fire after their initially tense encounter in prison. Though not quite on par with Top Gun's shamelessly gay volleyball scene, Easy Rider certainly contains what could be seen as some guy-on-guy action. Wyatt and Billy nearly acknowledge as much when, after George's beating, they visit the whorehouse he told them about and used his credit card. "He would've wanted us to," Billy tells Wyatt, who quietly wonders as to the ethics of what they're about to do. But of course, nothing happens in the whorehouse, and they leave to go goof off with the girls at Mardi Gras. The following acid-trip scene was painful to watch, not so much because of the drug aspect as Peter Fonda's very real confession to his dead mother: "I hate you so much..."

It seemed to me that the jump cuts (certainly less than a 30° camera shift) near the film's end while the boys are riding correspond with their imminent fate. After the deed is done, the camera immediately detaches and floats up into the sky in a way antithetical of the beginning scene of Fellini's 8½. Finally disconnected from its subjects, the camera flies away, for the first time giving a God's-eye view of the scenery that was heretofore only seen from the boys' point-of-view.

Written by Alan Sharp, the maximally character-driven script is a relationship story disguised as a western. Thanks to Vilmos Zsigmond, it gets an A for cinematography, with trippy stuff like multiple exposures of glorious lush natural vistas. What I love about it is, of course, the strong female character Hannah, who is self-defining and sure of her rights without being abrasive, nasty or self-pitying. She's plain but magnetic. Just in case we miss the point, the other female character stereotypically "sexy" and miserably unhappy. Here's the story:

Harry and Arch have been bumming around the countryside together for seven years. Dan is a younger fellow who recently started riding with them. Arch and Dan are fixing to leave for the Coast and check out the Gold Rush.

Suddenly Harry announces that he's going home to the wife and daughter he left behind. He can't remember what color her eyes were, but he feels the need to go back and settle down.

The three men ride into a weird little cruddy town. Dan is shot dead by a supposedly wronged husband, who then barges into the cantina, brandishing a smoking gun, followed by his supposedly raped wife, clutching a blanket around her nakedness. Dan is buried to the accompaniment of a Bible verse that should be quoted more often: "The kingdom of the Father is spread upon the earth and men do not see it." Adding insult to injury, someone also steals the kid's horse. Harry and Arch go after the killer, shoot him in both feet and get the horse back.

Arch accompanies Harry back to the place where he's presumed to be dead. When they married, he was 20 and Hannah was 30. He left after a year and 9 months. He says it wasn't her fault but his; he just wasn't ready.

In those days, from the age of about 14 onward, men thought of themselves as being ready for anything. So Harry's insight about not being ready for marriage might seem anachronistic. On the other hand, there are always, in the most unlikely times and places, individuals who will say things like that. People knew a lot about their own inner workings, at least some of them did, a long time before encounter groups were invented.

In the next town they ask at the saloon about getting some work, and overhear talk about the Widow Collins, who is of course Hannah. There is some innuendo about hired hands she has employed in the past.

At the farm the "widow" and her daughter come out to meet the newcomers. Recognizing Harry, Hannah is instantly defensive and suspicious, and sends the child inside. It's the fulfillment of every woman's fantasy, that some day he will come back, but Hannah is outwardly unmoved. Harry says "Just let me work the place for a bit like a hired hand." She agrees, on condition that Harry doesn't upset the girl by revealing his identity. After supper, she sends the men out to the stable to sleep.

Alone with Hannah out on the verandah one night, Arch tries to put in a few good words for his friend. She tells him it's just a matter of time before Harry leaves again.

In town, a local yokel taunts Arch about Hannah's reputation for being free with her favors, implying that a whole succession of hired men have done way more than fix the chicken coop. Arch decks the bigmouth, but Harry knows what it's about. Arch advises him not to judge Hannah or even to ask her any questions, pointing out that Harry is hardly in a position to take the moral high ground. Harry ignores the advice and self-righteously confronts Hannah. Quietly but firmly defiant, she stands up for her rights. Yes, she takes lovers and then kicks them out at will. That's the way she likes it, and who is he to complain? Sexual autonomy is a privilege she's earned by surviving Harry's betrayal. You get the feeling Harry wishes he had never brought it up. He goes into town and puts up notices, "No further hired help needed."

The four from the farm go into town, which Hannah has pretty much avoided in the past years. On Main Street she takes Harry's arm. At first they're not sure whether they're being ostracized or if people are genuinely indifferent to their presence. The sheriff extends a cordial public greeting, so it seems like everything is okay. But not for long. In the saloon, the trouble-making townie stud draws on them. Tables are knocked over, glass is shattered, things are tense. Finally Arch finds the bartender's Derringer behind the bar and plugs the troublemaker.

In another confidential nighttime porch conversation, Hannah tells Arch - truthfully, or out of a need not to appear vulnerable - that one man in her bed is as good as another. She would just as soon sleep with Arch as with Harry or any of the hired men.

Later the sheriff rides out to say that even though Arch shot the guy in self-defense, he should probably hit the road, for his own safety. Hannah wants him to leave too. As long as Arch is around, she would always be worried about Harry taking off with him again. "He's what you left me for, Harry. I know you hadn't met him yet, but he's what you were looking for." It's as if he'd brought another woman home and given her the spare room.

The little girl has gotten fond of Arch, and it's a sad leavetaking all round. That evening, Hannah tremblingly says, "I hope I'll be all right for you, Harry." He takes a bath and fortifies himself with a couple swigs of Double Eagle. The reunited couple make love and declare their tender feelings for each other. Life begins anew.

But soon a messenger arrives, bearing Arch's severed finger, sent by the guy with the bullet wounds in his feet. Harry saddles up. Hannah says, "You planned this, you never meant to stay." He swears he'll just get Arch out of trouble and come right back.

Arch is in a jail cell, where the killer's miserable, abused wife, the one he allegedly raped, smuggles him water and, eventually, a pistol. The husband shoots Harry; Arch gets out and shoots the husband. Dying in the dust, Harry he says, "Hold me, Arch."

In the last, no-dialog scene, Arch rides back to Hannah's, leading Harry's empty horse. He puts the horses in the barn. The implication is that he will take up the obligation of looking out for Harry's family.

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A big part of this movie’s magic comes from the score, recorded on a two-track tape machine in a garage. The composer is Bruce Langhorne, who did not let the partial amputation of three fingers stop him from becoming a legendary guitarist. He is the man Dylan’s song “Mr. Tambourine Man” was written for. There’s more about Langhorne at the Venice Beach Marching Society.

Although some bits were added when I found another set of notes from another viewing, this piece about The Hired Hand (1971) was originally published April 30, 2002. Shortly afterward, in the June 3, 2002 issue of The New Republic, Stanley Kauffmann reported on the first TriBeCa Film Festival, saying,

This exceptional film was released in 1971 in fifty-two theaters, as compared with the two thousand-plus theaters that most Hollywood pictures open in... Lately, with the help of the Martin Scorsese Foundation and others, the negative was recovered and an excellent print was made.

The restored version was shown at the 2001 Venice Film Festival. In September of 2005, it was shown at New York's Museum of Modern Art and reviewed in glowing terms by Michael Sragow in The New Yorker. It's always delightful to be vindicated.

How did I go this far without ever having seen Point Blank? I don't know. What I do know is that I'm very grateful for Alexander's recent piece on it: it prompted me to finally sit down to watch it, and I absolutely loved it. It helps that I was prepared: I can imagine that people looking for something like Payback (based on the same story) will be put off by the shifty visuals, the juxtaposition of images from different periods in time, and the fact that the sound doesn't always synch with what we see.

I was fascinated every step of the way. Lee Marvin gives a great central performance, almost emotionless, absent in his own story. Who knew Nouvelle Vague would fit so well with a simple, almost un-ironic gangster story? The story is only the bare skeleton, and the style adds layer upon layer of mood, melancholy, and metaphors.

Who is Walker? What motivates him? These questions aren't really ever answered. Maybe he is, as Alexander suggests, just a ghost, an eidolon. Someone who was killed and is just staying around in order to settle debts.

The motivation of the protagonist of the Limey, Wilson, has a somewhat better defined motivation. His daughter was killed, and he wants to kill the man he thinks is responsible. Still, he wasn't exactly close to his daughter, and hadn't spoken to her in 5 years. He wants revenge as almost an abstract thing. Walker in Point Blank says "someone's gotta pay", and while he's talking about money ($93.000 to be precise), the same sentence could be used to describe Wilson's attitude.

In The Limey also, images are juxtaposed with no regard for chronology, the sound is often disconnected from the visuals, and there are many recurring stylistic motifs that are impossible to miss. The movie does forward, but not in a straight line: instead, it loops around, doubles back, and some images which we at first think are from the beginning of the film's chronology are revealed at the end of the film to be situated at the end of the story.

It's a great film, and while it definitely owes a debt to Point Blank, it is more emotional, simpler, and in the end slightly more satisfying film. I love the inclusion of scenes from an old Terence Stamp movie that fill in his character's past, and Peter Fonda is a great fit as his opponent, Terry Valentine.

And as a final, totally unrelated remark: why has nobody but Soderbergh figured out what to do with Nicky Katt? He has some great, clearly improvised, lines (what's the smartest thing that ever came out of a woman's mouth?), and he's the most alive thing in the movie. Why does he keep getting stuck as a third banana or a boring teacher? I say: give Nicky a leading role in a big comedy, and I'm sure he'll make a splash.

La Argento tratteggia entrambi con scelte tecniche appropriate e incisive, sebbene la ventottenne regista non raggiunga una sicurezza stilistica sobria e decisa: c’è qualche giravolta di troppo nelle riprese, qualche barluccichio psichedelico esteriore e facile, ma ci sono anche un coraggio e una foga sinceri, vitali. Il rapporto tra Sarah e Geremia è struggente e il merito va certamente al testo di Leroy, ma anche ad una regista in grado di restituire perfettamente sullo schermo il dolore assoluto che è la base del loro ambiguo rapporto, che è (come l’ottimo finale suggerisce) una ricorsiva fuga al di là del bene e del male, un rifiuto distruttivo, istintivo e animale di un mondo inaccettabile. Ingannevole è il cuore più di ogni cosa proviene direttamente dal cinema dell’orrore e dalle visioni dei migliori registi americani: giustamente Asia snobba il triste panorama italiano e lei, che con il suo pedigree di famiglia può produrre in libertà, si rifà al vero cinema, quello delle favole nere di registi come Romero, Carpenter, Lynch, Ferrara. Anzi, se Ferrara riuscisse ancora a fare buoni film, dovrebbe fare un film come questo, che ci racconta le ceneri dell’American Dream parlandoci della monnezza nascosta tra le falsità accomodanti della società del benessere. Un giudizio troppo positivo? Può darsi, ma l’anestesia totale delle immagini cui siamo avvezzi dovrebbe essere soverchiata più spesso dai sobbalzi di un corpo non del tutto addormentato.

Ingannevole è il cuore più di ogni cosa, di Asia Argento, Italia, 2004, 98 minuti

Cast: Peter Fonda, Asia Argento, Winona Ryder, Ornella Muti, Michael Pitt, Jeremy Renner, Marilyn Manson.

Uscita: 14 gennaio 2005