In Dreams

 MY TWENTIETH CENTURY (1989)

 An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia

The song I expected to hear in "My Twentieth Century" was Roy Orbison's melodious, ethereal pop song "In Dreams." It would have worked even more succinctly in this confection of turn-of-the-century images of a new era, new ideas, than in Lynch's "Blue Velvet." "My Twentieth Century" is a glorious, fantastical and supremely beautiful film of dreams told with such simplicity that it should be considered a fairly definitive evocation of the historical era it portrays with great love and attention. 

"My Twentieth Century" begins fleetingly with the invention of the light bulb by morose inventor Thomas Edison (Péter Andora), showcasing his revolutionary idea by having a tree lit with bulbs. A marching band carrying light bulbs on their hats celebrates the discovery. Afterwards, there is the simultaneous birth of twin Hungarian girls (Dorotha Segda plays the single mother and her daughters in their adult years) - the film already develops a comical side when the mother is unaware she has two baby girls crying in her bed. Getting back to Edison for a second - is he morose because such an invention doesn't compare to giving birth? Who can say though the stars in the night sky are wondering why he's sad as they call out to him (the talking stars are unmistakably a nod to "It's a Wonderful Life"). 

The twin girls, Dora and Lili, become orphans who sell matches on the snow-covered Budapest streets and are eventually separated by two strangers who steal their matches. As they enter adulthood, Dora becomes a grifter, stealing from the wealthy and living a life of luxury aboard trains, ships and expensive hotel rooms. Lili has become an anarchist, bombing buildings where the Minister of Interior frequents. The two never seem to meet again except in a funhouse of mirrors and even then, nothing is shared between them. The man they share, unbeknownst to them, is Z (Oleg Yankovsky), a mysterious figure of some intellectual heft, who lives in a small apartment and attends symposiums on transmitting electricity by human touch (a little Tesla twinkle there I gather).

Surreal, stirring debut films like "My Twentieth Century" are unusual and especially from a female director like Ildikó Enyedi. This is not a normal debut by any means - Hungarian filmmaker Enyedi (making her film during the era of Communist Hungary) shows she has a tremendous vision of a bygone era and it is illustrated by striking, densely layered imagery (a woman dances on stage with light bulbs attached to her) and subtle, expressive performances. There is a lot going on here with freely associative historical vignettes involving Pavlovian dogs, wealth inequality, the novel excitement of silent films, the treatment of women as objects despite their burgeoning presence where equal rights were in their infancy, Edison's other invention namely the telegraph, and a sense of being free with the promise of an exciting new era. Z may not know what is coming, and both Dora and Lili are just pawns in a time of self-expression. None of them comment on the new technology during the Second Industrial Revolution, the politics of the era (though Lili attends a lecture on women's rights) and barely any matters when it comes to the heart. Love itself for lustful Dora and the virginal Lili exists in a vacuum. They don't know what's coming ahead and that is the heartbreaking soul of "My Twentieth Century." They just know they are free.

007 bored me to tears

 THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN (1974)

Endured by Jerry Saravia

Roger Moore's dapper James Bond is asked by his boss, M, about Scaramanga. Bond mentions that this assassin has a superfluous papilla - a third nipple. That is the most memorable moment of this joyless and tedious Bond effort (one I did not revisit much during the last 40 years) that feels like it has the thinnest story imaginable. 

Preceding this flick was "Live and Let Die" which was Roger Moore's dubious debut as Bond. That film had a little more story, a far more interesting Bond girl delivered by Jane Seymour as a talented tarot reader, a decent villain played by Yaphet Kotto, and they threw in some voodoo magic in the strange locales and surroundings of the Caribbean Islands. "Man With the Golden Gun" deals with an assassin who has a golden gun and gets paid a million dollars a hit - more than enough money to own a private island off the coast of southeastern China. He has some extraordinary solar beam that can presumably destroy anything. Bond must find Scaramanga and has assistance from Miss Goodnight (!) played by Britt Ekland. Throw in yet another boat chase (nowhere near as good as the one in "Live and Let Die"), a martial arts sequence, and a car chase with one unbelievably good stunt where it flips while crossing an unfinished bridge. Also thrown in is Bond's brief hanky panky with Ekland and Maud Adams. The car chase, by the way, brings the return of Clifton James as Sheriff Pepper from the last Bond outing - almost improbable he would run into Bond again. 

Christopher Lee is astonishingly good in an underwritten part - when he's on screen, the film comes alive. Moore hadn't grown in to the part of Bond yet and Ekland is a pure waste - a throwaway blonde Bond girl. "The Man With the Golden Gun" is the worst Moore Bond flick because it does something rather rare - it bored me to tears.  

Connery's return is top form Bond, uneven plot

 DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER (1971)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Diamonds are Forever" has oodles of great individual Bondian stunts and comical moments that we have come to expect, though the latter's humor is closer to Roger Moore's more flamboyant Bondian entries than Connery. Guy Hamilton is back as the ace director and things run smoothly if unevenly in "Diamonds are Forever" with an assured and perfectly stylish performance by Sean Connery as 007.

The plot deals with diamonds, of course, lunar modules, deadly laser beams from satellites and a ridiculous moon buggy. There is Charles Gray who has perfect pitch as Blofeld, the archvillain who can't seem to die no matter what James Bond does. These diamonds are priceless yet there are fakes as well. All this leads from London to Holland to finally the center location of most of the action, Las Vegas - one of the few times our superspy ended up in America. With Vegas as the setting, Jill St. John plays Tiffany, a diamond smuggler and Bond's latest love interest. In terms of women populating this world, there are too few. Tiffany is one, a throwaway female known as Plenty (Lana Wood) who is impressed by Bond's super abilities at the craps tables, and the brief introduction of the athletic bodyguards Bambi and Thumper. There is a mob element, an old stand-up comedian (Leonard Barr, an actual comedian), and a Howard Hughes-type known as Willard Whyte (Jimmy Dean) presumably living in a hotel. Gadgets are precious few though I did enjoy the voice synthesizer. Oh, did I forget to mention the nifty car chase with Bond driving a red Ford Mustang balanced on two wheels or the oil rig where Bond tries yet again to kill Blofeld? Or how about a waterbed filled with living fish in it? 

"Diamonds are Forever" is a bouncy, charming, purely escapist Bond flick but it is not quite at the level of Connery's earlier Bonds. Jill St. John is not quite right as a Bond girl, somehow too giddy and girlish for me to accept. The mid-section of the film slows down a bit during a funeral sequence though the pacing does pick up a bit. So, between the burning coffins and rats in a silo and the psychopathic hit men played rather atypically by Bruce Glover and Putter Smith, there is Connery who delivers a little more tongue-in-cheek attitude than you might expect. You haven't lived deep in 007 land until you have seen Connery pretending to embrace and kiss a woman on the streets. 

Alexander's nonexistent love for God grows like a newly planted tree

 THE SACRIFICE (1986)

Embraced by Jerry Saravia

Watching Andrei Tarkovsky films is like going through a time warp in an enclosed dreamlike space. His films are meditative trips where time is endless and space is being manipulated right before our eyes. That is the truest way I can view Tarkovsky's last film, "The Sacrifice," one of his heaviest films that is dedicated to his son. It doesn't start being so dark and difficult but, by the end, you might be gasping for air just like I did when I saw "Stalker." 

The film has an Ingmar Bergman quality during its opening long-take scene of a former older actor named Alexander (Erland Josephson, a Bergman regular) who has planted a tree with his mute son. His son (Tommy Kjellqvist), referred to as Little Man, recently had a throat operation and frequently mumbles. After talking to a mailman about existentialism in this seemingly isolated beach home area, Alexander sits by the remote woods waxing on about the state of mankind, how power corrupts all, how nature has been destroyed and sin has prevailed and, thus, the resulting emerging technology (these "words, words, words" are more prescient now than in 1986). His philosophies have emerged about life and death, though it is doubtful that it has any relation to him being a famous journalist who teaches aesthetics. It is this beach home in the middle of nowhere with a landscape more beautiful than beatific that has him cornered.  

It is Alexander's birthday and the bulk of the film takes place inside his beach home. His wife, Adelaide (Susan Fleetwood), arrives with Little Man's doctor, Victor (Sven Wollter), and they curiously look like a couple (Adelaide makes it clear that she married the wrong man). Also in attendance are Alexander's stepdaughter Marta, Otto the mailman (Allan Edwall, who had appeared in some Bergman films) and two maids, one who is referred to as a mysterious witch named Maria (Guðrún Gísladóttir). They all watch the news on TV about an impending World War III and this drives Adelaide to endlessly scream and well in tears (Victor comes to her aid). Alexander starts praying to God and the sound of thunder has given way to sounds of jets flying overhead. Existentialist thoughts about the world have now been submerged by spirituality. Alexander feels that if he gives up material possessions, like his beach house, that then maybe God will stop this nuclear war and its devastation. 

"The Sacrifice" is a deeply spiritual experience where one man desperately pleads with God, something Alexander probably never expected to do. He never expected to make love to the alleged witch, the one maid who saves him from potential suicide. After this one trek to her home, Alexander seems to wake up as if he had a bad dream. Nobody seems in fear anymore of war but Alexander has already changed. Tarkovsky occasionally places us in the calamitous effects of war, as in black-and-white images of people running in the city streets that resembles World War II footage of broken down cities. Sometimes, as in one very curious moment that is visually shown as colorless, Alexander is shown looking at a model of his beach house in the mud while the "witch" looks on - is it real or is Alexander thinking that his life is bereft of meaning including a material possession like a beach house? (The model was made by his son but, somehow, it is too perfect). Before the shattering sounds of jets are heard, we see a startling image of Maria walking on the grounds with a deep mist in the background.

"The Sacrifice" was Tarkovsky's last hurrah before he died of cancer. It is a surreal film that floats in and out of your consciousness and I do not think that most of it is meant to be taken literally. It is a final and emotionally grounded testament to a man who had profound thoughts on humanity and hoped spirituality would prevail. His view is that a man's family can and should feel at peace in a place that appears peaceful. If only.

Generic karate pic with generic Jeff

 THE PERFECT WEAPON (1991)

Endured by Jerry Saravia

You know something is rotten in Korea Town when a stellar actress like Mariska Hargitay (in her pre-"Law and Order" days to be fair) has no dialogue whatsoever yet showed presence, spunk and spoke dialogue in a "Freddy's Nightmares" TV episode three years earlier. That is what went through my mind while watching the completely indistinct "The Perfect Weapon" with the shallow model of a man with a touch of stubble, Jeff Speakman.

Another thought occurred to me - casting Mako and James Hong are good choices for any martial-arts film yet they are saddled with dialogue you have heard ten million times before. They could have cast anyone else to spout such unmemorable dialogue. The film starts off with a decent vibe showing Speakman's Kenpo style, karate that combines Chinese and Japanese traditions, but why do the editors have to cut from so many different angles when all he is doing is practicing in his living room? Why is Speakman, playing a character named Jeff, shown fighting his opponents with the same spinning back kick to someone's head repeated twice so that we get the point? He also has that Steven Seagal attitude where he tells three karate fighters in a gym, "I am going...to kick your ass." 

The fight scenes overall are well-choreographed but the writing is maybe 6th grade-level at best. There is also a...car chase! There is a nifty homage to Harold Sakata's Oddjob from "Goldfinger" when Toru Tanaka faces a similar death scene by way of an exploding gas tank rather than electrocution. Other than that, "The Perfect Weapon" is bargain basement karate nonsense at best where learning a little about Kenpo style karate would've been its most original element. You don't even learn half of it.  

I am still not entertained!

 GLADIATOR II (2024)
Endured by Jerry Saravia

Maybe gladiator flicks are just not my thing. Maybe I can't lean towards Roman Colosseum fights with other gladiators or ferocious animals. I did like "Spartacus" once upon a time though it is the only Kubrick film I have not seen more than once. Same with Ridley Scott's bloodily tedious, glum "Gladiator" from 2000 with Russell Crowe as Maximus, a gladiator with apparent dreams of a new Rome. I say apparent because I have forgotten most of the original film when I first saw it in 2000. A quarter-century later we get "Gladiator II" which reminds one (thanks to the first film's flashbacks) of this ideal Rome that Maximus envisioned, presumably a place where greed, villainy and gladiator fights do not take place. Unfortunately, this sequel is as tiresome and glum as the original with a presumed hero who doesn't have a tenth of Crowe's charisma.

The new Roman slave, Hanno (also known as Lucius), played by Paul Mescal, is forcefully taken from his home in Numidia. The Roman Army have invaded Numidia and Hanno's wife (Yuval Gonen), a hellacious archer, is killed. Rome is still as vibrantly violent as it once was with two young co-Emperors, a somewhat serious Emperor Geta (ably cast Joseph Quinn) and the overly giddy and insane brother, Emperor Caracalla (Fred Hechinger) who keeps a pet monkey - two dynamic opposite emperors that provide a bit of energy to the story. Denzel Washington is Macrinus, an ex-slave with aspirations to rule Rome though he sits in the sidelines mostly, glancing at everyone and everything and has a clearly murderous bent. Macrinus hopes to have Lucius kill Acacius (Pedro Pascal), a Roman general who is not interested in war or seeing men die. Acacius is married to Lucilla (Connie Nielsen, reprising her role as Lucius' mother) and they both wish to form an insurrection and topple the youngling emperors. Meanwhile Lucius fight gladiator battles against men riding black rhinos and, in one practically laughable sequence, a fight on ships in a flooded arena with CGI sharks!

"Gladiator II" has lots of gory violence involving impalements by arrows and swords and most of it is staged with the typical Ridley Scott stylings of true combat. Most of the film though is uninvolving and I had no rooting interest in anyone and that includes the protagonist. Paul Mescal just doesn't register for me, though he speaks with a Crowe-influence tongue. There is one character named Ravi (Alexander Karim), a former Indian gladiator who became a doctor to nurse the wounded blood-soaked fighters, whom I leaned towards. There is a spark there, some measure of a world described that might have been more interesting if he had been the lead. "Gladiator II" just feels like a wasted opportunity of a sequel, a movie heavy on long-form battle scenes with the barest of interest in the politics of the times or the people. I am still not entertained!  

Moore will survive

 G.I. JANE (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Can a smart, determined woman make it as a NAVY SEAL? In 1997, this question seemed almost improbable. According to 2026 statistics, no women have made it as SEALS. Still, Demi Moore can rock it and survive the training program and go off and fight a war in Libya. The good news about "G.I. Jane" is that it is not nearly as insanely over-the-top as Moore's execrable 1996 film "The Juror." Good performances don't always make good movies but Moore is so damn good, so absolutely believable, that I bought her more than the actual movie around her.

A topographical analyst named Lieutenant Jordan O'Neil (Demi Moore) is selected by an acid-tongued Texas Senator DeHaven (Anne Bancroft) to join the Navy Seals - the purpose is to establish that a woman can do the job and survive basic training (a tidbit here that some may find offensive in this day and age - the Senator is looking for feminine-looking women, not manly-looking ones). O'Neil accepts the job yet she may be unprepared for how grueling it is. The male SEALS don't like having to be "co-ed" and none will sit with her at the cafeteria. The training includes hauling rafts into the ocean, pushing fenders up and over beach dunes, survive waterboarding and get physically and violently punished by the Master Chief (Viggo Mortensen) during war interrogation drills. Only these drills seem to go beyond the expected where O'Neill is punched and kicked and thrown against wooden pillars by the Master Chief. You know the brutality is insane when one of the other NAVY leaders are telling the chief that he went too far. Did the Master Chief go too far because he's assaulting a woman or do all the male wannabe SEALS get the same violent treatment? Good question but the movie never probes that question because all is forgiven - just another day in basic training.

"G.I. Jane" is fluidly made by director Ridley Scott but it also has loud 1990's symphonic music laced with patriotic beats by Trevor Jones that undermine the first half of the film. The business with the Senator has nothing to do with diversity and/or gender-neutral implementation in the Navy - she has her own designs about women in combat that seem out-of-step with her initial feelings. A military clash with Libyans towards the end seems tacked-on. Despite its slight narrative inconsistencies and some generic, pumped up battle scenes which don't seem like Scott directed them, the heartbeat of "G.I. Jane" is Demi Moore with shorn hair and her positive attitude as a woman in a man's world - she wants to go all the way but the powers that be will not see it that way. Good message sort of clouded by superfluous Senators and jingoistic nonsense.