Every dog has its day – or at least an afternoon

Five decades later, Dog Day Afternoon – directed by Sidney Lumet and based on a true story – could debatably be more resonant and relevant than it was upon its release in September 1975. Exploring powerful themes of desperation, media spectacle, and social bias, the film centers on Sonny (Al Pacino), who, along with his partner Sal (John Cazale), attempts to rob a Brooklyn bank to pay for his lover Leon’s (Chris Sarandon) gender-affirming surgery, only for the heist to spiral into a chaotic hostage standoff. As the tense situation unfolds, Sonny tries to negotiate with police detective Sgt. Moretti (Charles Durning) while dealing with growing media attention and the emotional strain of his personal life. Also featuring James Broderick as FBI agent Sheldon, the film blends dark humor with social commentary, making it both a gripping thriller and a human drama.

To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Dog Day Afternoon, conducted last week, click here. (If you get an error message, simply try refreshing the page.)

Dog Day Afternoon stands as a high point in the careers of its creators, potentially representing Lumet’s most accomplished direction and featuring perhaps the most memorable and powerful performances ever delivered by Al Pacino and John Cazale. (That’s especially high praise for Cazale, who was practically perfect in each of the five masterpieces he appeared in before dying of cancer: The Godfather, The Godfather Part II, The Conversation, this film, and The Deer Hunter.)

This work often plays as a comedy but ends as a tragedy, all the while ticking away as a fine psychological drama and mild thriller filled with fine performances and fascinating characters that were hallmarks of early 1970s cinema. The movie has a lot to say about the power of the media, sociocultural politics, LGBTQ awareness, and the deep state of mistrust and pessimism that pervaded our culture in the mid-1970s.

It tackles the subject of a gay relationship with honesty and matter-of-factness. For a mainstream film released in 1975, it was groundbreaking in portraying a queer relationship at the center of its story without ridicule or sensationalism, instead treating Sonny’s love for his partner as a deeply human motivation that audiences could empathize with.

The picture is considered relatively authentic and fairly accurate because it closely follows the real 1972 Brooklyn bank robbery by John Wojtowicz and Salvatore Naturile. Lumet and screenwriter Frank Pierson stayed faithful to the main events, including the hostage situation, tense negotiations, and chaotic interactions with police and the media. Pacino’s Sonny reflects Wojtowicz’s personality and motives (he also bears an uncanny resemblance), particularly his efforts to fund his partner’s gender-affirming surgery. It achieves a striking authenticity by grounding itself in this true story and real environments. Filmed on location in New York with natural lighting, a documentary-like style, and improvisational performances, the movie captures the immediacy and unpredictability of real life, blurring the line between drama and reality in a way that still feels fresh 50 years later.

It features no traditional musical score, instead relying on atmosphere and natural sound. The absence of a composed soundtrack heightens the realism and tension, making the viewer feel as though they are truly inside the unfolding events. The only song used—Elton John’s “Amoreena” in the opening, which is revealed to be playing on the radio inside the getaway car, making it diegetic music—sets the everyday New York mood before the chaos begins, making the contrast even more striking.

This film certainly tells us a lot about life in America 50 years ago. It embraces an anti-authoritarian theme that critiques the political climate of the 1970s. By spotlighting police aggression, public distrust of institutions, and the lingering disillusionment of the Watergate and Vietnam eras, the film tapped into widespread anxieties of its time, giving it both topical urgency and lasting relevance. Through tense interactions with police, the film critiques law enforcement and bureaucratic inefficiency.

According to DVD Savant critic Glenn Erickson: “Sonny, a Vietnam vet, displays a paranoia and distrust of authority that was the hallmark of the era. It may be one of the most famous scenes in film history, but Sonny's "ATTICA! ATTICA!" tirade, inspired by a notorious prison riot that ended with officers shooting numerous prisoners in the back, speaks to his disgust with law enforcement and the system in general. The robbery may have happened in August 1972, only two months after the Watergate break-in, but by the time the film was produced, Nixon was out and Sonny's view of authority was no longer counter-culture mysticism; It was a mainstream public view.”

Dog Day Afternoon "captures perfectly the zeitgeist of the early 1970s, a time when optimism was scraping rock bottom and John Wojtowicz was as good a hero as we could come up with,” wrote critic Christopher Null.

Consider that Sonny is the first openly gay/bisexual character featured in a Hollywood movie, and Pacino is the first major American star to ever play a gay/bisexual man. Dog Day Afternoon broke new ground by presenting a gay relationship as a central, fully human element of the narrative of a feature film—something rarely seen in mainstream films of the 1970s. Sonny’s sexuality is treated matter-of-factly, and his love for his partner drives his actions, giving the character depth and complexity rather than reducing him to a stereotype. Likewise, the gay character of Leon – superbly played by Sarandon – is presented with nuance and sensitivity minus clichés or caricature.

Additionally, Dog Day Afternoon deviated from the conventions of earlier heist films and debatably reshaped how crime dramas were made. Shot with handheld cameras, natural lighting, and overlapping dialogue, it adopted a documentary-like realism that gave the story a raw, authentic feel and inspired later films like Heat and Inside Man to ground their crime narratives similarly.

Rather than focusing on the mechanics of a slickly executed robbery, the film centered on the flawed humanity of its characters, with Al Pacino’s Sonny portrayed not as a criminal mastermind but as an ordinary man trapped in extraordinary circumstances—a character-driven approach echoed in The Town and Hell or High Water.

At the same time, Lumet infused the story with social and political themes of the 1970s, touching on distrust of authority, media spectacle, and LGBTQ+ identity. This willingness to mix social critique with genre storytelling influenced later socially conscious thrillers such as John Q. The film was ahead of its time, too, in portraying the robbery as a media circus, with television cameras and public spectacle becoming part of the drama, a motif that resonates in Inside Man. Some credit this film with actually prefiguring the later rise of reality TV, especially in the scene where the pizza deliveryman yells, “I’m a star!” Pacino remarked: “That was the first time that kind of recognition vis à vis TV and the real world was shown. In a way, it was reality TV.”

Films that came in the wake of Dog Day Afternoon and were likely influenced by it, even if only as bank-robber stories, include Quick Change (1990), Heat (1995), John Q (2002), Inside Man (2006), The Town (2010), and Hell or High Water (2016). This work may also have influenced Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing in that both films unfold over the course of one sweltering New York summer day, both end in violence and tragedy, and both resist offering easy answers or clear-cut morals, instead leaving audiences to grapple with ambiguity and unresolved tensions.

Fortunately, the film doesn’t pander or resort to overplayed clichés or stereotypes. Ask yourself: Did you suspect Sonny of being gay before it was revealed? It shows the Sonny-Leon relationship objectively, fairly, and impartially; consider that it’s given equal time compared to Sonny’s relationship with his wife.

On the other hand, detractors would argue that this reveal functions as an intentionally shocking plot twist designed to heighten the drama at a critical point in the narrative, effectively serving up this suddenly exposed relationship as salacious melodrama. Additionally, it presents somewhat negative portrayals of Sonny’s mother and female wife. They seem to be shrill, unattractive, inattentive listeners and out of touch with his needs; some theorize that these qualities prompt Sonny to come out of the closet and prefer a gay relationship. Yet, some of the women hostages are shown as strong and brave.

Pacino expertly plays a man who stands as a fascinating study in contradictions, which is part of what makes him such a compelling character. At times, he appears to be in total control of the situation, only to quickly reveal that he has no idea what to do next. He’s both hero and anti-hero—you root for him because of his vulnerability and humanity, even while knowing he’s breaking the law. His personal life is equally complex: he has a wife and children, yet is also married to a man, and he has a straight male partner in crime. His greatest weakness is ironically his compassion, as his attempts to help others—whether his partner, the hostages, or even the crowd—consistently backfire. And while he’s cheered on by onlookers for defying authority, many in that same crowd reject him for his sexuality, which highlights the bitter irony that what he’s condemned for is not illegal, while what earns him cheers most certainly is.

Per Roger Ebert: “Sonny isn't explained or analyzed -- just presented. He becomes one of the most interesting modern movie characters, ranking with Gene Hackman's eavesdropper in "The Conversation" and Jack Nicholson's Bobby Dupea in "Five Easy Pieces."

Ponder how Sonny is a different person to everyone around him. Interestingly, he tries to satisfy everyone and solve other people’s problems, but ultimately he fails. Like Sal, Sonny’s a living paradox (for proof of the former, recall how Sal criticizes the female bank employees for smoking yet is engaged in armed robbery). Sonny is incredibly media savvy – he knows instinctively how to whip up the crowd for the cameras, get the public on his side, and make the police look like antagonists; recall how he tucks in his shirt before heading back out to face the media, and Sal even believes Sonny has the power to control the TV news. Additionally, Sonny has good instincts for ferreting out the fakers (like the undercover cop driving the bus). Yet he’s relatively clueless about where to escape to (he prefers Algeria because they have a Howard Johnson’s), and recall that he stupidly sets fire to the bank ledger, which foils their entire plan.

Sonny is aware that he’s flawed and difficult to understand, but he has confidence in himself to solve problems, even if he is not successful. He says: “I’m a fuck-up and an outcast – you come near me, you’re going to get it”; “I’m me, and I’m different, and “I speak what I feel.”

The director deserves ample credit for infusing realism into this film and lending it a docudrama feel that attempts to capture the look and tone of the mid-1970s. But not to undercut this authenticity, he intently focuses on the psychological conflict experienced by Sonny, Sal, and their captives, depicting their states of mind, stress, and personal crises with commendable sensitivity and depth. This is not an objective reenactment of a true-life bank robbery. Yes, we are shown the perspectives of law enforcement, providing needed balance, and Sonny and Sal are seen as criminals capable of violence; yet they are both humanized and presented by the filmmakers as sympathetic characters.

Consider, as well, how Lumet uses no artificial lighting, instead employing the fluorescent lights used within the bank building. And his use of quick mobile handheld camera shots, particularly in the claustrophobic confines of the bank, is particularly effective. His opening montage of real people sequences across New York City helps set the template that this is an ordinary day in the Big Apple, set during one of the dog days of summer. With the help of editor Dede Allen, Lumet uses a series of quick cuts when gunshots are fired: first when Sonny shoots at the back window, and later when Sal is shot dead. These stylistically quick edits are meant to disorient the viewer as well as the characters.

On the subject of this film, Lumet – widely regarded as an “actor’s director” – explained in his own book that “Freaks are not the freaks we think they are. We are much more connected to the outrageous behavior than we know or admit.”

“Lumet's genius here is to design the film's environment so that his outstanding cast can really embody their roles,” critic Glenn Erickson further wrote. “While much of the dialogue has an improvisational feel, the film is very carefully structured to build at a certain pace. There is a real sense of unstoppable momentum (every error made by either the robbers or the law just sends us further down the path of disaster); the film also creates the slow-burning sensation of a situation that at times just drags on.”

Lumet directed many exceptional films, including 12 Angry Men (1957), Long Day’s Journey into Night (1962), The Pawnbroker (1964), Fail Safe (1964), Serpico (1973), Network (1976), and The Verdict (1982). But Dog Day Afternoon could be his crowning achievement.

Thematically, the film brilliantly explores the power of the media and the “15 minutes of fame” phenomenon. As the robbery becomes a televised spectacle, the film reveals how quickly a man driven to extremes can be turned into a folk hero or a public curiosity, foreshadowing the media-saturated culture we live in today, where public opinion is shaped in real time. For a few hours, Sal and Sonny are the new Bonnie and Clyde. In thematic terms, it’s fair to ask: does Sonny survive because he’s already been cemented as a media-anointed people’s champion, and does Sal die because he’s not as photogenic, newsworthy, or attractive to the masses?

Another moral to the story? Desperate times call for desperate measures. Perfectly encapsulating the mid-1970s, a recessionary era marked by public dissatisfaction with economic conditions and elected leaders – a time when heroes seemed hard to find and the country was suffering from post-Watergate/Vietnam malaise – Dog Day Afternoon taps into these concerns and our collective ennui. Distressed characters like Sonny and Sal are easier to understand in this sociocultural pressure cooker context. As threatening – and bumbling – as they are as bank robbers, we can sympathize with their money woes and intense desire to change their luck.

Dog Day Afternoon also examines the domino effect of doomed destiny. Just about everything goes wrong for Sonny and Sal in this comedy of errors, which sees their best-laid plans quickly turned upside down and their fates sealed from the outset. We know practically from the start that this is an unlucky pair destined to fail. But despite predicting these bad outcomes early on and being proven right, the viewer nevertheless remains enthralled by this botched crime and the cascading pressures that engulf the bank robbers.

Furthermore, the film masterfully explores social exclusion and bias, particularly homophobia and societal judgment, highlighting how marginalized individuals are mistreated or misunderstood even as they strive for recognition and acceptance.

As Spike Lee did so effectively in Do the Right Thing, Dog Day Afternoon works beautifully as a time capsule moment, depicting a particular place (New York City) on a particular day (August 22, 1972) and reflecting the moods, mores, and sensibilities of its era. Setting our protagonists in a high-pressure environment where crucial mistakes are made and multiple adversities converge upon them in a matter of hours – the hot weather, the media, local and federal authorities, and interpersonal crises from partners and lovers – this film manages to organically tighten the knot minus narrative trickery or implausible shoot-em-ups and without becoming too super-serious for its own good. Lumet appropriately adopts a humanistic approach in his rendering of Sonny and his complex personal relationships, but doesn’t turn the bank robbers into blameless victims or pitiable pawns in the system.

Perhaps Dog Day Afternoon’s single greatest gift is the phone call between Sonny and Leon, which mines incredible emotional depths to reveal their complex relationship, underscoring both tenderness and latent hostility from Sonny as well as vulnerability and pathos from Leon. The acting is off the charts, and the awkward intimacy of this moment adds poignancy, allowing us a privileged view inside Sonny’s headspace.

Dog Day Afternoon remains one of the greatest cinematic portraits in any era of a common, desperate man besieged by internal and external forces he’s responsible for setting into motion. Not quite shown in real time, we follow Sonny and Sal over several hours in one day and marvel at how quickly events unravel, circumstances change, the pressure mounts, and the public grows fascinated with this media circus. Sure, the funky fashions, public attitudes, and period trappings anchor it firmly as a product of its times, but the human drama on display remains evergreen and credible. Proud of his creation, Lumet himself said, “You're sucked into a world – quite claustrophobic – but you believe every second of it. There’s not a false moment in that movie.” 

This movie remains highly acclaimed and celebrated in the film industry. The American Film Institute has honored it on multiple fronts: it ranks at #70 on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Thrills list, and its iconic line “Attica! Attica!” is placed at #86 on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Movie Quotes; it was also nominated for AFI’s 100 Years…100 Movies in both 1998 and 2007. The film boasts a stellar Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” score of 96 percent, reflecting widespread critical acclaim, and a Popcornmeter audience score of 90%, while its Metacritic score stands at an impressive 86 out of 100. It won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay for Frank Pierson and was also nominated for Best Picture, Best Director (Lumet), Best Actor (Pacino), Best Supporting Actor (Sarandon), and Best Film Editing (Allen).

Read more...

Feeling sunshiny about a near spotless movie

One cinematic hybrid you don’t see every day? A sci-fi romcom. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), directed by Michel Gondry and written by Charlie Kaufman from a story by Kaufman, Gondry, and Pierre Bismuth, certainly fits that description. In this surreal 21st century masterwork, we follow Joel Barish (Jim Carrey), a reserved man who discovers his ex-girlfriend Clementine Kruczynski (Kate Winslet) has undergone a procedure to erase their relationship from her memory; heartbroken, he chooses to do the same, but as his memories are systematically erased, he realizes he still loves her and desperately tries to hold onto fragments of their connection. (It’s interesting to keep in mind that, in addition to being a fantasy, this is a science fiction story; with the rapid pace of technology and scientific innovation, it’s not far-fetched to envision a near-future where the wiping of selective memories is possible.)

The narrative also includes subplots involving Dr. Howard Mierzwiak (Tom Wilkinson), who runs the memory-erasure company Lacuna Inc.; Mary Svevo (Kirsten Dunst), his receptionist with complicated ties to the procedure; Patrick (Elijah Wood), a technician who exploits Joel’s memories to pursue Clementine; and Stan (Mark Ruffalo), another technician entangled with Mary.

Acclaimed for its clever script, inventive visuals, and poignant exploration of memory, love, and identity, the picture features career-defining performances—particularly Carrey’s against-type dramatic role and Winslet’s unpredictable, vibrant Clementine—and won the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay, cementing its status as one of the most original and influential films of its era.

To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, recorded last week, click here. (If you get an error message, simply try refreshing the page)

This is a nonlinear narrative that can be tricky to follow because it dovetails in on itself, possibly starting with the ending and including several surreal and fantastical moments that we realize are happening in Joel’s mind. The fragmented nature of this storytelling makes Eternal Sunshine a compelling watch but one that you have to pay close attention to.

Carrey plays against type here, and deserves applause for exceptional restraint. He stays firmly in character as the melancholic Joel and resists any attempts at slapstick, broad comedy, or the manic energy we associate with him. As in previous films like The Truman Show and Man on the Moon, he demonstrates serious dramatic talent and versatility.

Winslet, on the other hand, serves as a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, a character christened by Nathan Rabin as a female personality who “exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.” She’s a classic screwball dame in a 21st century story, leading her lover on a madcap and mysterious journey – this time through her male counterpart’s very psyche. She’s responsible for the several meet-cutes we observe, another trope that’s playfully explored by the filmmakers.

The script is ultra-clever in how it Joel’s memories as fragmented and wobbly. He isn’t exactly sure which memory happened first or next. The genius stroke here is how Kaufman and his collaborators have Joel change his mind on the memory erasure and empower Joel to hide his memories of Clementine by imagining the two of them as young kids. “Joel attempts to fight the erasure of his memories, and Eternal Sunshine admits early on that it’s a fight he cannot win. That he keeps on fighting anyway is the crux of the film, and a breakthrough for Kaufman—writing about the human condition more than questioning our lives as self-made fictions,” per Slant Magazine critic Jeremiah Kipp. “The fantasies here are more “real” than anything that Kaufman has ever written, because they define who we think we are. Joel rediscovers his love for Clementine through fantasy, which is to say through his clouded memories of her. Such things are precious, and Gondry revels in that world in all its fleeting, flickering, ever-mutating joys.”

The famous quotation, “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, perhaps best summarizes the main message of this film. Joel learns the hard way that a romantic relationship can be cruel and painful, but typically the happy memories and love shared outweigh the negative moments.

The cautionary lesson here is that our memories and experiences – both the good and bad ones – are indispensable. They are integral to shaping our identities, provide purpose and meaning to our lives, help us grow and mature, and teach us how to avoid making the same mistakes. Permanently forgetting or erasing these recollections, impressions, and life episodes can leave a significant void (which happens to dementia/Alzheimer’s sufferers and their loved ones). This work suggests that it would be dangerous and damaging if we had the ability to pick and choose only the memories we want to keep. Roger Ebert tapped into this theme: “The wisdom in “Eternal Sunshine” is how it illuminates the way memory interacts with love. We more readily recall pleasure than pain. From the hospital I remember laughing nurses and not sleepless nights. A drunk remembers the good times better than the hangovers. A failed political candidate remembers the applause. An unsuccessful romantic lover remembers the times when it worked. What Joel and Clementine cling to are those perfect moments when lives seem blessed by heaven, and sunshine will fall upon it forever.”

Additionally, Eternal Sunshine espouses the value of rediscovery and reinvention. By resisting the erasure of his memories associated with Clementine, Joel essentially creates a reboot opportunity whereby he can fall in love with her all over again, with the possibility of reconstructing their relationship, hopefully with better outcomes. While viewers don’t have the option of erasing their memories (yet), the takeaway here is that it can be possible to start over with someone, sidestep past mistakes, and appreciate your partner for their positive qualities.

The movie further deserves applause for cleverly exploring love triangles, with paralleling threesomes: Joel, Clementine, and Patrick form one triangle versus Stan, Mary, and Dr. Mierzwiak, who represent the other triangle.

Similar works

• Superman II (1981), particularly the ending where the titular character kisses Lois Lane to erase her memory
• Being John Malkovich (1999), Adaptation (2002), Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (2002), Synecdoche, New York (2008), all written by Charlie Kaufman
• Memento (2000)
• Her (2013)
• 50 First Dates (2004)
• Anomalisa (2015)
• Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022)
• Shakespeare’s The Tempest

Other films by Michel Gondry

• Human Nature (2001)
• The Science of Sleep (2006)
• Be Kind Rewind (2008)
• Mood Indigo (2013) The Book of Solutions (2023)

Read more...

Meet Popeye the streetwise man

Ask a well-versed film lover what the greatest car chase in movie history is and they may cite Steve McQueen’s San Francisco pursuit in Bullitt (1968); the high-speed realism of Ronin (1998); the desert spectacle of Mad Max: Fury Road (2015); Jason Bourne’s Mini Cooper escape in The Bourne Identity (2002); the wrong-way freeway madness of To Live and Die in L.A. (1985); the 40-minute “Eleanor” chase in Gone in 60 Seconds (1974); the comedic destruction in The Blues Brothers (1980); Batman’s Tumbler and Batpod pursuit in The Dark Knight (2008); and the music-synced getaway of Baby Driver (2017). But we all know the real answer is The French Connection (1971), which boasts a standout high-speed chase sequence involving undercover detective Popeye Doyle (played by Gene Hackman, who was a curious choice at the time in that he wasn’t yet an established star). This tense crime thriller, directed by William Friedkin, follows two New York City narcotics detectives, Doyle and Buddy “Cloudy” Russo (Roy Scheider), as they pursue a French heroin-smuggling operation led by the suave kingpin Alain Charnier (Fernando Rey). Known for its gritty, documentary-style realism, the film also features Tony Lo Bianco as mobster Sal Boca and Marcel Bozzuffi as Charnier’s ruthless hitman, Pierre Nicoli, highlighting the dangerous, obsessive lengths Doyle is willing to go to crack the case.

To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of The French Connection, conducted last week, click here.

Beating the release of Dirty Harry to the punch by just a few weeks, Doyle stands out as an amoral anti-hero cop who’s not necessarily motivated by the quest for law, order, and justice but by obsession, anger, and selfish determination. We root for this bigoted, roguish, violent intimidator because he’s the protagonist of the story, and we’re intrigued by his mission to stop these criminals, but his actions are morally troubling.

This begs the question: Are we required to care and root for a thoroughly unlikable character? Consider that several people die unnecessarily due to Doyle’s relentlessness in pursuing the heroin-related criminals. Doyle prefigures Robert DeNiro’s turn in Raging Bull, which also featured another main character many viewers loathe.

The French Connection depicts the ugly, dirty, gritty realism of urban decay, warts-and-all New York circa 1971. The landscape is hellish, dark, gray, and cold. The film employs a realistic style via handheld cameras, location shooting in New York and France, and a you-are-there verité sensibility that makes us feel as if we’re watching a documentary.

The car chase scene tops any one previously filmed, including Bullitt, in terms of action, tension, stunts, realism, and danger. It’s a riveting centerpiece of the film, but arguably given too much significance in the grand scheme of the movie. However, as Roger Ebert said, “in a sense, the whole movie is a chase,” which makes this scene perhaps the centerpiece. The French Connection paved the way for extraordinary car chase sequences that came thereafter, including Vanishing Point (1971); Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991); The Rock (1996); The Fast and the Furious (2001); Death Proof (2007); Drive (2011); and John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023).

By contrast, much of the earlier segments of the picture are slowly paced, appropriate given that these men are on tedious stakeout detail. The car chase helps release some of that bottled up tension and accelerate the rhythm and pace.

The ending is decidedly bleak and nihilistic, much like many of the films of this era, including Midnight Cowboy (1969), Klute (1971), A Clockwork Orange (1971), The Godfather (1972), and Chinatown (1974). Note that this was the first R-rated film to garner the Best Picture Academy Award.

What helps make Doyle such an interesting, atypical law enforcement character, especially for a police procedural like this one, is that he’s not given any backstory, and we’re not shown any flashbacks or provided any explanatory exposition; we do know that his hunches once got a good copy killed, but it’s never explained. We’re also never told how he got his “Popeye” nickname, and he’s not given any love interest, means by which to relieve his tensions, reward, or recognize his hard work.

Today, even antihero characters are often allowed a shot at redemption by the end of the film. Popeye isn’t redeemed or rehabilitated, and he garners little to no sympathy from viewers. His palpable racism and recurrent use of the “N” word certainly don’t endear him to modern audiences.

This film helped usher in the era of the vigilante, streetwise cop character, made further famous by Dirty Harry, Charles Bronson, and 1970s police shows like Baretta, Starsky and Hutch, and others.

The French Connection reminds us that good doesn’t always triumph over evil, and innocent people often pay the price for the pursuit of justice. Consider that most of the criminals get away without being punished, and that innocent citizens are often put in harm’s way by Doyle and his determination to catch the bad guy.

Pay attention to doubles and doppelgangers as motifs in this movie: For example, consider how Doyle is contrasted with the villains around him, including the French criminals, who savor their seven-course meal while Popeye has to eat cold pizza outside, or how Doyle collapses next to the villain he shoots in the back.

Similar works

• The Lineup (1958)
• Bullitt (1968)
• Madigan (1968)
• Z (1969)
• Dirty Harry (1971)
• Serpico (1973)
• The Seven-Ups (1973)
• Mean Streets (1973)
• The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974)
• Taxi Driver (1976)

Other films directed by William Friedkin

• The Exorcist
• Sorcerer
• To Live and Die in L.A.

Read more...

"It's the pictures that got small" – but not this picture

Filmmaker Billy Wilder is a man of many masterpieces. But arguably his crowning achievement remains Sunset Boulevard, the 1950 noir that’s often considered to be the finest motion picture about making movies and where movies are made. To back up this claim, consider that the film ranks #12 and #16, Wilder’s highest-ranked work, on the AFI’s Top 100 Greatest American Films of All Time lists from 1998 and 2007, respectively. In 1999, Sunset Boulevard was ranked #43 on the Village Voice list of the Top 250 Films of the Century. In the 2002 Sight & Sound poll, it placed #63 among critics and an impressive #12 among directors. By the 2022 Sight & Sound directors' poll, it remained highly regarded, coming in at #62. In 2015, the film was ranked #54 on BBC Culture’s list of the 100 Greatest American Films. Additionally, the Writers Guild of America has recognized Sunset Boulevard's screenplay as the 7th greatest ever written. And it commands a 98% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes and a 94 out of 100 Metascore on Metacritic.

The story follows Joe Gillis (William Holden), a struggling screenwriter who stumbles into the decaying mansion of Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson), a once-great silent film star who has faded into obscurity but dreams of making a triumphant return. Norma, clinging to her illusions of stardom, ensnares Joe in a complex relationship—offering him money and shelter in exchange for his help on her comeback screenplay. The film also features Max von Mayerling (Erich von Stroheim), Norma’s devoted but secretive butler, and Betty Schaefer (Nancy Olson), a young studio script reader who becomes both Joe’s creative collaborator and romantic interest.

To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Sunset Boulevard, conducted earlier this month, click here. To hear the latest Cineversary podcast celebrating the 75th anniversary of Sunset Boulevard, click here.

It boasts a stellar combination of talents, including Wilder and Charles Brackett who wrote the Oscar-winning original screenplay together; Gloria Swanson, William Holden, and Erich von Stroheim, who each received Academy Award nominations for their performances; a brooding, brilliant score by Franz Waxman, who earned Oscar gold for the music; fantastic lighting and compositions by master noir cinematographer John Seitz; and costumes by the legendary Edith Head. In all, the film was nominated for 11 Oscars and won three, including Best Art Direction-Interior Design (let’s not forget that this was All About Eve’s year, with that rival scoring six Oscars, including Best Picture, and 14 nominations).

In addition to being regarded as perhaps the finest movie about Tinseltown ever made, it’s also one of the first and greatest meta films of them all, in which the movie is self-reflexive about the creation of motion pictures. We are given an insider’s look at how the industry works, Hollywood’s winners and losers, and the cynicism inherent in this field. Turner Classic Movies describes it as “one of the first serious treatments of life in Hollywood, coming at a time when most movies about movies were irony-free comedies and musicals.”

This film’s greatest meta achievement was the casting of Swanson and von Stroheim, who portray a former actress and film director – the roles they actually served years ago during Hollywood’s silent movie age. Desmond’s character also draws clear inspiration from the real-life decline of several silent-era stars: Her reclusive lifestyle echoes that of Pola Negri and Mary Pickford, while her psychological instability recalls figures like Clara Bow, Valeska Surratt, Audrey Munson, and Mae Murray. Many film historians believe her name was crafted as a nod to silent film actress Mabel Normand and director William Desmond Taylor, whose scandalous 1922 murder – still unsolved – captivated the public and media alike.

Wilder and his collaborators lend authenticity and verisimilitude by name-dropping real players and referencing actual movies: from Alan Ladd, Tyrone Power, Daryl Zanuck, Greta Garbo, and Rudolph Valentino to Gone With the Wind, King Kong, and Queen Kelly (which was, ironically, directed by von Stroheim and starring Swanson).

There are also impressive cameos by bona fide actors, filmmakers, and celebrities playing themselves, including Cecil B. DeMille (who was shooting the real film Samson and Delilah in that sequence), Buster Keaton, H.B. Warner, Anna Q. Nilsson, and gossip columnist Hedda Hopper.

Sunset Boulevard boasts some of the sharpest dialogue and most treasured lines of any film in history, particularly those delivered by Swanson, which is hardly surprising considering they were written by tag team champions Wilder and Brackett:

All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up.

You're Norma Desmond. You used to be in silent pictures. You used to be big / I am big – It’s the pictures that got small.

We didn't need dialogue. We had faces!

Without me, there wouldn't be any Paramount studio.

No one ever leaves a star. That's what makes one a star…The stars are ageless, aren't they?

She was the greatest of them all! You wouldn't know, you're too young. In one week, she received 17,000 fan letters. Men bribed her hairdresser to get a lock of her hair. There was a Maharaja who came all the way from India to beg one of her silk stockings. Later, he strangled himself with it.

It was a great big white elephant of a place. The kind crazy movie people built in the crazy 20s. A neglected house gets an unhappy look. This one had it in spades. It was like that old woman in Great Expectations. That Miss Havisham, in her rotting wedding dress and her torn veil, taking it out on the world because she'd been given the go-by.

You don't yell at a sleepwalker. He may fall and break his neck.

Funny, how gentle people get with you once you're dead.

The poor dope - he always wanted a pool. Well, in the end, he got himself a pool.

This film checks several genre and subgenre boxes: noir, black comedy, character-driven drama, satire, romance, horror film, and meta movie. There’s even a sequence early on with the repo men where we think this could turn into a chase film. But first and foremost, it remains a benchmark noir, complete with one of the most iconic femme fatales in the canon, an unforgettable gunshot murder, noirish thematic elements of inescapable fate, and, of course, gorgeous chiaroscuro lighting. But Sunset Boulevard is also rife with elements of horror, including an old dark house in the form of a decrepit Gothic mansion, Toccata and Fugue being creepily played from a giant pipe organ, a midnight graveyard burial, rats running wild, Max serving as the Igor assistant of sorts to Norma’s mad scientist, Norma peeking through shades that resemble a giant spider web, and Ms. Desmond embodying a surprisingly violent vampiric creature with Nosferatu-like claws who slowly sucks away Joe’s dignity and self-respect.

Additionally, Sunset Boulevard could be both the greatest satire and meta film ever made about the inner workings of Hollywood and the many skeletons buried there. Think back to the opening credits, which show the film’s title literally superimposed over a gutter and then displaying cast and crew names in a step-down pattern, suggesting perhaps a descent from loftier heights. It also satisfies as a consistently humorous black comedy, one that goes more for clever comedic touches and grin-inducing moments than broad guffaw-generating laughs.

We can’t deny that, even if they’re subplots, this film works on a romantic level, too. Roger Ebert agreed, writing that “…it’s also a love story, and the love keeps it from becoming simply a waxworks or a freak show.” We feel Joe’s pangs of romance, desire, and betrayal (to his friend Artie) in his blossoming amorous relationship with Betty. And even if it’s out of pity or selfishness, let’s not forget the would-be romance between Norma and Joe: He returns to Norma after her suicide attempt, initiates an intimate embrace, and remains her kept man for the rest of the picture.

Lastly, ponder the ending sequence, in which a totally unhinged Norma walks down the staircase to greet the cameras, which can be described as simultaneously comical, pathetic, eerie, disturbing, depressing, grandiose, grotesque, and even beautiful. Just as it can slot within different genre folders, these final images reinforce how the entire film can evoke many different feelings and reactions from the audience.

Thanks to its meta structure that provides textual and subtextual commentary on the film industry, Sunset Boulevard likely inspired subsequent movies to adopt similar approaches, including the casting of actors and filmmakers who play themselves and riff on their personas. Without this work, you probably don’t have follow-up films like The Bad and the Beautiful (1952), The Star (1952), or The Barefoot Contessa (1954) that give us a continued inside look at the workings of Hollywood.

Reflect, as well, on how more contemporary movies like Robert Altman’s The Player (1992), Spike Jonze’s Being John Malkovich (1999), and Wes Craven’s New Nightmare (1994) feature actors and directors playing themselves to somewhat comedic effect: a trend that became more accepted and mainstream after Sunset Boulevard.

This picture was undoubtedly an influence on later films like Whatever Happened to Baby Jane (1962), Woman in the Dunes (1964), The Day of the Locust (1975), and Mulholland Drive (2001). Also, several cinematic works reference Sunset Boulevard directly in their scripts or echo its themes, lines, or imagery through homage, including Soapdish (1991), Mrs. Doubtfire (1993), Gods and Monsters (1998), Cecil B. Demented (2000), Mulholland Drive (2001), Be Cool (2005), and Inland Empire (2006).

But the impact didn’t stop there. Sunset Boulevard deeply penetrated pop-culture, as evidenced by its being spoofed, referenced, or mirrored in TV episodes of The Twilight Zone, The Carol Burnett Show, American Dad, Archer, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Twin Peaks, 3rd Rock from the Sun, Desperate Housewives; and being imitated by Australian wrestler Toni Storm, who portrays a highly theatrical character that draws significant inspiration from Norma Desmond and her butler Max.

Additionally, the movie seemed prescient in its focus on the dark side of fame and celebrity culture as well as celebrity crime. Norma killing Joe makes us think of the later murders associated with Robert Blake, O.J. Simpson, and Phil Spector, for example. And Sunset Boulevard’s cynical tone helps peel back the façade of the Hollywood dream factory, exposing its rotten underbelly and preoccupations with past glory.

It was also controversial for its depiction of an older, rich woman essentially paying a man for companionship and, presumably, sex. What’s perhaps narratively innovative is that the main story revolves around this relationship, delving deeply into Norma’s intense obsession and Joe’s reliance on her. Earlier movies seldom present this dynamic so openly or make it such a strong focal point of the story.

This film helped catapult Holden to stardom, too. It wasn’t long after that he won a Best Actor Academy Award for Stalag 17 (1953) and became the number one box-office star (1956).

There’s plenty to admire about Wilder’s filmmaking choices. Like his Double Indemnity, Sunset Boulevard benefits from its flashback format and voiceover narration by a dying—or, in this case, already dead—character. Wilder and company could have shot this in color, but chose monochrome to remain true to the noir aesthetic. (Interestingly, this was the final significant Hollywood movie shot on a nitrate negative, a film stock that created incredibly rich black-and-white visuals.)

As much as he was admired by critics and scholars for daring to make a film this scathing about Hollywood and its dark underbelly, Wilder was severely criticized by his peers and risked major blowback.

Most impressively, Wilder deftly balances shifting tonalities in Sunset Boulevard, which can quickly pivot between being cynical and sincere, elegiac and upbeat, droll and deadly serious. And one can easily admire how Wilder populates his picture with both facsimile characters and genuine celebrities who are distorted for the screen. Appreciate how, despite this being her comeback triumph, Swanson risks attracting negative attention for years of failing to be cast in a Hollywood picture; von Stroheim straddles the line between stellar performance and walking parody of his former self; and ponder the unflattering cameos by the real-life Buster Keaton and Hedda Hopper.

Deep Focus Review essayist Brian Eggert is fascinated by “how Wilder dares to imitate life with his art, yet always with a wry sense of morbid humor… For each of Sunset Boulevard‘s strangest moments, there’s a real-life counterpart warped for the purposes of the film, some of them horrifying, some of them endearing…Wilder carefully uses Holden’s greenness, as well as (Swanson) and von Stroheim’s desperation to create something truly uncommon, fascinating, and brilliant…Before anyone else was willing to remark on their own industry with such scathing representation of Hollywood’s grotesque underworld, Sunset Boulevard lays bare Tinseltown’s flashy allure.”

Themes are as abundant as the cynicism dripping from Gillis’ mouth. Sunset Boulevard is certainly about the dangers of living a lie, glorying in the past, and not evolving as a person or artist. Norma resides in a delusional fantasy world and refuses to learn or accept the truth: that she is no longer in demand or attractive to audiences. She can’t escape the sins of pride, vanity, and obsession with self-image.

But it’s also a treatise on determinism and dark fate. It’s crucial that the story begins at the end and is told in flashback, as many classic noirs are. Joe, our protagonist, is dead, but he’s ironically telling his story as a voiceover narrator from beyond the grave. This makes us believe that the character’s fate is predestined: We know upfront how his luck will sour. Recall, as well, how Max presciently announces to the stranger who has wandered into Norma’s mansion, “Madame is waiting for you upstairs”; they each happen to be screenwriters, and they each happen to be single – but it feels like more than mere coincidence. And reflect on how Joe keeps running into Betty, as if they’re star-crossed lovers destined to fall in love. Ruminate on how Joe is a fly doomed to be ensnared in a spider’s web – becoming entangled in the trap of Norma’s twisted life, from which he can’t easily extricate himself. When he tries for the final time, the spider woman devours her prey.

Sunset Boulevard further preaches how Hollywood needs to reckon with its past and change with the times. This movie was made in an era when the film industry was challenged in several ways and the Hollywood system was faltering. Studios were forced to sell off their owned theaters, deal with congressional investigations that turned into a communist witch hunt and resulted in blacklists, and compete with increased competition from television. The message here is that the old money and antiquated forces that built Hollywood (as exemplified by Norma and her mansion) could no longer prop up modern Tinseltown. The industry needed to evolve and adapt to changing times.

Concurrently, Sunset Boulevard serves as a sad commentary on how quickly talent can become a disposable commodity – forgotten or ignored by the fickle public and corporate America in its greedy pursuit of profit. Per critic Pamela Hutchinson with The Guardian: “The film industry in Sunset Boulevard is shown to be on its last legs. Paramount producer Sheldrake is ill with stress; Gillis is broke and only one rejection letter away from quitting show-business for “a copy-desk in Dayton, Ohio”; his friend Artie is stuck on a disastrous shoot in Arizona; Betty the script-reader is optimistic that she can make films that matter, but even she has been through the mill, rejected as a wannabe starlet…Sunset Boulevard is twice as chilling a film when you realise that Desmond made Paramount Studios a success, rather than the other way around. The faltering movie business was built not on fragile foundations of an art form doomed to obsolescence, but on stronger, more ambitious grounds than it occupied in 1950.”

The movie also warns of the consequences of enabling – Max makes matters infinitely worse because he keeps feeding Norma’s ego with lies and faux attention from filmmakers and imaginary fans – and reminds us that there are no shortcuts to success: Hard work, real talent, and lots of luck are required. Ponder how Joe is down on his luck as a Hollywood writer but decides to take up Norma’s offer to live with him and write for her. Ultimately, he pays for this opportunistic shortcut with his life.

The scalpel-sharp script by Wilder and Brackett is most responsible for keeping Sunset Boulevard evergreen in the 21st Century. The extraordinary writing is responsible for a film that can boast of several all-time great scenes and quotable lines. The contrast in the two main characters’ personalities (and the acting styles of Swanson versus Holden) makes for a fascinating study. Joe’s demeanor is cool and cynical, his mindset modern, and his mannerisms realistic and credible. Norma’s movements, expressions, and speech, by contrast, are stylized, exaggerated, overdramatic, and grandiose; she creates a grotesque and creepy impression that plays on the opposite spectrum.

Cinemablend reviewer Brian Holcomb wrote: “One of the great joys of the film is watching the way in which William Holden's naturalistic performance clashes with an actress and performance style from an earlier age. This tension actually generates a great deal of the film's oddball humor, since every moment Norma is seen striking grotesque poses and being ‘dramatic’ is quickly undercut by Joe's matter-of-fact expressions.” The noir and horror elements also serve as a delicious juxtaposition to the comedic and satiric qualities infused in this movie. This genre mashup and disparate stew of styles create an unforgettable film experience among viewers who can appreciate a sharp wit and ironic tone.

Read more...

Hollywood heads to the classroom

Fictional cinematic action heroes like James Bond, Luke Skywalker, and Wonder Woman continue to inspire awe. And gritty personalities and dogged professionals more grounded in reality like Rocky Balboa, Clarice Starling and Dirty Harry serve as wish-fulfillment characters who remain popular with movie fans.

But arguably it’s the educator figures in film who leave the most lasting impressions on us – standing tall, performing proudly, and representing the best qualities of the human spirit. For proof, consider unforgettable teacher, mentor and coach characters throughout Hollywood history who have commanded our respect and proved instrumental in transforming the lives of students in their stories – from Mr. Chips, Helen Keller, and Glenn Holland to Yoda, Mr. Miyagi, and Professor Dumbledore.

Which begs the question: What are the finest films featuring fantastic teacher characters in a classroom setting? Excluding science-fiction and action/superhero movies, there are plenty of good contenders to consider.

Terri Pantuso, instructional assistant professor of English at Texas A&M University in College Station, Texas, nominates “Dead Poets Society” (1989), starring Robin Williams as John Keating, a rebellious instructor who returns to his alma mater and inspires his boy students to think for themselves.

“Keating struggles to work within the system and attempts to rise to the challenge of pushing kids beyond traditional boundaries and encouraging individuality, creating better-informed, critically-thinking students,” she says. Pantuso notes that characters like Keating remind us that “teachers function as social workers, guidance counselors, and sometimes surrogate parents. Teachers also have to be guardians and protectors in light of school safety concerns. During coronavirus, teachers are asked to do all of this in multiple formats – face-to-face, online, or both. This makes an already difficult job incrementally more exhausting.”

Dimitri Vorontzov, a New York City-based screenwriting instructor, also admires “Dead Poets Society” because it “focuses on the creativity and courage of the teacher in an effort to inspire independent thinking and help students discover that knowledge is fun.”

“Stand and Deliver” (1988) and “Lean on Me” (1989) are other works commonly cited for their indelible characters, played, respectively, by Edward James Olmos as a math teacher who uses humor and wit to stimulate his pupils and Morgan Freeman as an educator trying to clean up the New York City school with the lowest test scores in the state.

Ask Kathryn Starke, an urban literacy specialist and former classroom teacher in Richmond, Virginia, and she’ll cast her vote for “Dangerous Minds,” a film based on a true story featuring Michelle Pfeiffer as a teacher who employs unique methods to better connect with underachieving teenagers in an inner-city school.

“I saw this movie in a theater when I was 16 years old, and it motivated and inspired me to teach in an inner-city elementary school where I could help as many children as possible learn to read and achieve success,” says Starke. “Teaching is a thankless job. We all know that teachers do not enter the profession for financial security. It is, however, the only career that teaches all other professions. Saying thank you, writing a note, or giving a small gift is an easy way for parents and students to thank teachers.”

Hilary Swank’s Erin Gruwell stands out in “Freedom Writers” (2007) as a teacher who helps her class appreciate literature by assigning them to write personal stories and form connections to historically important events like the Holocaust. Then there’s William Hurt, who shines as a sign language-using instructor of deaf children in “Children of a Lesser God” (1986); and Kevin Kline, who gives an impressive performance as classics professor William Hundert, a boarding school teacher who engages in a battle of wills with a bright student in “The Emperor’s Club” (2002).

Lillie Marshall, a Boston resident who has taught English in public schools since 2003, feels many education movies can be dangerously inaccurate – especially when they perpetuate lone hero myths or white savior tropes, which she believes overshadow the important work that educator teams do.

“I think the new Pixar movie ‘Soul’ has some fascinating truths about being a teacher, which have been ignored by other films. This movie depicts educators as people who make a lasting positive impact on students yet also have other passions and interests beyond the classroom,” says Marshall, who believes that teaching is the most important profession in the world because it creates all other professions.

While they may not garner the rabid reverence and attention from fans that “Captain Marvel” or “Batman” do, teachers deserve to be admired just as much as these caped crusaders.

“I don’t think any teacher would consider him or herself a superhero. Rather, most teachers are dedicated professionals who genuinely care about kids and the future of our society,” says Pantuso. “The best way parents and the community can show teachers their appreciation is to be supportive and involved. Make sure your children do what is required of them to be successful in the classroom.”

Narrowing down the most recommended films about educators and classroom teaching isn’t easy, as any list is subjective and there are more deserving candidates worth mentioning than space allows. But here are some other suggested movies in this subgenre that depict teachers rising above challenges and making extraordinary connections with students, much like many educators are doing today:

• Charly (1968)
• Good Will Hunting (1999)
• Goodbye Mr. Chips (1939)
• Mr. Holland’s Opus (1995)
• Music of the Heart (1999)
• Precious (2009)
• School of Rock (2003)
• The Great Debaters (2007)
• To Sir With Love (1967)

Read more...

12 X 4 = Incredible filmmaking

Life, as we experience it, unfolds in real time. But that’s rarely the case for characters in a fictional narrative film. A great exception to that rule is Boyhood (2014), Richard Linklater’s American coming-of-age drama. The picture follows Mason Evans Jr. (Ellar Coltrane) from age 6 to 18 as he experiences the challenges and milestones of growing up, while his divorced parents, played by Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette, and his sister Samantha, played by Linklater’s daughter Lorelei Linklater, navigate their own changes. Its groundbreaking production method, naturalistic performances, and universal themes of growth and change made it widely regarded as a cinematic landmark. Boyhood earned critical acclaim, with Patricia Arquette winning the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress, and the film itself becoming a cultural touchstone.

To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Boyhood, conducted last week, click here.

It’s one of the most unique cinematic experiments ever attempted, in which Linklater followed a small group of actors over 12 years, shooting a few days every year between 2002 and 2013 (amazingly, there were only 39 total shooting days) and filming in real time, with no shortcuts: The age of Mason and sister Samantha, as well as their parents, are the actual ages of these performers at the time of filming. During production, Linklater continuously crafted the script by reviewing the footage from the previous year and then writing the following year’s segment. Additionally, he adapted the screenplay to reflect the natural changes in the actors, allowing the main cast to shape their characters by weaving their personal life experiences into the story.

This consistent year-by-year approach allows us to trace the growth and evolution of these characters and their respective actors, including physical, stylistic, and personality changes. We are given a privileged opportunity to watch this prolonged progression in a conveniently abbreviated package – 12 years summarized in 165 minutes. Hawke described it as “a little bit like time-lapse photography of a human being.”

Per Linklater: “I've long wanted to tell the story of a parent–child relationship that follows a boy from the first through the 12th grade and ends with him going off to college. But the dilemma is that kids change so much that it is impossible to cover that much ground. And I am totally ready to adapt the story to whatever he is going through."

Linklater had fascinatingly experimented with characters affected by the passage of time in his Before trilogy, all three of which were released prior to Boyhood but actually span longer (18 years). This work, on the other hand, ambitiously encapsulates an extreme time stretch into one movie.

Where Boyhood particularly shines is in capturing the rhythms and details of everyday life, especially the mundane moments that other cinematic narratives would certainly leave out in favor of milestone events and momentous occasions. Here, we are given simple vignettes of ordinary moments – some more memorable than others. As Paste Magazine critic Tim Grierson put it: “There are no major revelations or twists. Instead, everything that happens is a matter of gradation.”

Yet Boyhood seizes the zeitgeist of the actual period over which the movie was shot, imbuing the film with docu-style realism thanks to placing the characters in topical situations, like an actual Harry Potter book release party, the 2008 presidential election season, and a bona fide Houston Astros baseball game. Era-appropriate musical markers also punctuate different vignettes; we hear segments from songs by Coldplay, The Hives, The Flaming Lips, Jeff Tweedy, and Arcade Fire played in the year they were released and popular, anchoring a given scene in an identifiable time between 2002 and 2013.

Arguably, this film could have been called Parenthood, as the stories of Olivia and Mason Sr. are just as compelling and given ample screen time. We learn as much about Mason’s mom and dad as we do about their offspring over the course of two-and-a-half hours.

The performances from these child actors are exceptional because they’re basically allowed to be themselves – to inhabit their characters without pretension, over-emoting, or being forced to regurgitate implausible dialogue. Even the adult characters are credible and realistic because Linklater eschews speechifying, grand gestures, and implausible situations.

Boyhood teaches us that even the smaller moments in life matter. The film is replete with relatively minor chapters in the life of Mason and his family, showing you slice-of-life moments, the majority of which are not momentous occasions (aside from Olivia and her kids leaving her alcoholic husband and Mason’s high school graduation). This film reminds viewers that time is fleeting and it’s crucial to cherish even the seemingly unimportant episodes and experiences, all of which shape who we are and who we will become as well as the loved ones around us.

Additionally, this work is all about living in the now. Ultimately, Boyhood espouses a Buddhist-like philosophy that it’s important to live in the moment and be open to permitting the present to change you. Recall the exchange near the end of the film between Mason and Nicole:

Nicole: You know how everyone's always saying seize the moment? I don't know, I'm kinda thinking it's the other way around. You know, like the moment seizes us. Mason: Yeah. Yeah, I know. It's constant–the moment. It's just... It's like it's always right now, you know?

Recall how Mason also exclaims: “It’s as if all of time unfolded so that we could be here.”

Film Comment writer Holly Willis subscribes to this theory, writing: “(Boyhood) is less about what it means to be a young male than it is an evocation of another key theme in the filmmaker’s body of work, namely time. And not just time as a philosophical concept, but our time, the present moment, and what it means to be alive now. Right now.”

The inevitable journey of self-discovery is another key takeaway. As Mason ages and matures, his interests change and new talents emerge, including an affinity for photography. By the end of the story, he still has a lot of growing and choosing to do; yes, his childhood has ended, but the formative experiences, seminal memories, and meaningful relationships that have helped mold Mason’s personality and values will continue to serve him.

This is a narrative about the rite of passage from boyhood to adulthood that every child experiences in a different way, making Boyhood a contemporary coming-of-age classic. Like millions of kids before him, Mason eventually grows up and must apply the tools and lessons bestowed to him by his parents to effectively navigate a path forward on his own. But his story and experiences are unique, and he is not necessarily doomed to repeat the mistakes of his mother and father.

Similar works

• Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy: Before Sunrise (1995), Before Sunset (2004), Before Midnight (2013)
• Linklater’s other films focused on temporal matters: Waking Life (2001), Tape (2001)
• Michael Apted’s Up series of documentaries: 7 Up (1964), 14 Up (1970), 21 Up (1977), 28 Up (1984), 35 Up (1991), 42 Up (1998), 49 Up (2005), 56 Up (2012), 63 Up (2019)
• François Truffaut’s Antoine Doinel trilogy: The 400 Blows (1959), Antoine and Colette (1962), Stolen Kisses (1968)
• Ingmar Bergman’s Fanny and Alexander (1982)
• Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life (2011)
• Gus Van Sant’s My Own Private Idaho (1991)
• Larry Clark’s Kids (1995)
• Lee Hirsch’s Bully (2011)

Read more...

Hollywood builds a house

Superhero movies inspire our imaginations to soar above the clouds. Science-fiction features tantalize with their futuristic prospects of technological innovation. And fantasy films bring out the hidden adventurer in us all, arousing bravery in the pursuit of an impossible quest.

But it’s flicks about fixer-uppers and homes being built in the real world that may prove to motivate us more in the long run, many believe. The reason? We can better relate to these challenging housing endeavors undertaken by serious and comedic characters alike in a variety of motion pictures. Been there, done that is the takeaway by plenty of viewers, while yet-to-be homeowners consider the cautionary tales to be learned from some of these home improvement and construction projects depicted by Hollywood.

Ask Ryan Rollins, a homeowner who runs the TeachMePersonalFinance.com website in Richmond Virginia, and he’ll tell you that his favorite home renovation movie is, hands down, “The Money Pit” (1986) starring Tom Hanks and Shelley Long as a couple who sink countless funds into their remodeled property.

“The movie does a fantastic job capturing the naïve optimism homebuyers frequently feel when they find the ‘perfect house,’ which frequently masks serious property issues,” says Rollins.

That film was actually a remake of another beloved picture in this home improvement subgenre, “Mr. Blanding’s Builds His Dream House” (1948), featuring Cary Grant and Myrna Loy as a husband and wife who attempt to modernize an antique country home that proves to be structurally defective.

“This retro comedy is a great one if you want to experience a truly heart-warming old picture and have an interest in remodeling,” explains Sean Chapman, a professional carpenter and house renovator in Eugene, Oregon. “The movie shows how many unexpected things can occur to an inexperienced renovator who thinks he’s good enough to be in charge. I’ve encountered some of the situations presented in this film, which was hilarious to watch. ‘Mr. Blandings’ is also a great inspiration for those who are about to start a renovation project.”

Another vintage film that tickles the fancies of homeowners – particularly Eric Peterson of North Aurora, Illinois – is silent film comedian/director Buster Keaton’s “One Week,” a two-reeler (19 minutes long) from 1920 that showcases a newlywed couple who attempt to fashion a “build-it-yourself” house in seven days, with hilarious consequences.

“At over 100 years old, this brief film is still pure magic from beginning to end and provides countless laughs,” says Peterson, who participates in a weekly film discussion group on Zoom called CineVerse. “I watched it with my six- and eight-year-old children last year, and they immediately asked to rewatch it. The movie teaches you a lasting lesson: It’s important to know what you’re getting into before building a house.”

Chapman nominates another cinematic example of this truism: “The Notebook” (2004) starring Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams.

“This movie tells a dramatic love story full of emotional roller coasters, but it’s also focused on home remodeling, as the lead character renovates a house during the entire movie, and it takes years for him to accomplish all these jobs alone,” adds Chapman. “The depiction of the renovation process alone should have been worth an Oscar for the director’s attentiveness to detail.”

One of the most stirring Tinsel Town works in this category is “Life as a House” (2001), which tells the story of a man with a terminal illness (Kevin Kline) who crafts his seaside dream home and mends his relationship with his estranged child at the same time.

When screening these and other related fare, just remember that Hollywood depictions of housing projects tend to over- or underestimate the real work, money, and resources involved. In other words, take them with a grain of salt on your popcorn.

“I think filmmakers do a reasonable job showing home construction and remodeling. But due to the need for quick scenes and pacing, you often don’t get a sense of the true amount of work required. Hollywood often focuses on the before and after – not the hard work that happens in between,” notes Rollins.

If this article whets your appetite for further films focused on home building and refurbishing, check out some of these other recommended movies, listed below.

• Dear John (2010)
• He’s Just Not That Into You (2009)
• Heartburn (1986)
• It’s Complicated (2009)
• Multiplicity (1996)
• Poltergeist (1982)
• Swiss Family Robinson (1960)
• The Karate Kid (1984)
• Under the Tuscan Sun (2003)

Read more...

Cineversary podcast celebrates Sunset Boulevard's 75th anniversary with TCM's Eddie Muller

In Cineversary podcast episode #85, host ⁠Erik Martin⁠ is ready for his close up as he celebrates the 75th anniversary of Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard. Accompanying him on this diamond jubilee is Eddie Muller, host of TCM’s Noir Alley and founder/president of the Film Noir Foundation. Together, they explore what makes this movie timeless and relevant, its influence on other filmmakers, prominent themes, and much more.

Eddie Muller

To listen to this episode, click here or click the "play" button on the embedded streaming player below. Or, you can stream, download, or subscribe to Cineversary wherever you get your podcasts, including Apple Podcasts and Spotify.

Learn more about the Cineversary podcast at www.cineversary.com and email show comments or suggestions to cineversarypodcast@gmail.com.

Read more...

Hollywood heads to the hospital

Film fans can point to countless movies that feature physicians who do their profession proud. But when it comes to nurses, who outnumber doctors four to one in the real world, positive portrayals in motion pictures are often less common – as evidenced by the instant pop culture recognizability of naughty nurse personalities like Hot Lips Houlihan in M*A*S*H* (the movie, not the TV show), Ms. Ratched in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and Annie Wilkes in Misery.

Yet these notorious characters tend to overshadow the numerous noble nurses and angels in white that can be found throughout film history, experts agree.

“Movie producers the world over have found nurses to be suitable and inspirational characters for on-screen drama since the beginning of cinema,” says Chris Hite, a film professor at Allan Hancock College in Santa Maria, California.

He says one of the earliest examples of an exemplary nurse character in film is Sister Edith, a Salvation Army nurse in director Victor Sjöström’s 1921 morality tale The Phantom Carriage, a silent movie from Sweden. “Up to her dying breath, Edith is concerned with making amends with a reckless alcoholic, from whom she contracted tuberculosis while caring for him. Her selflessness and humanitarianism set a template for the nurse archetype yet to come in motion pictures,” Hite notes.

Then there was Helen Hayes plays Cathryn, a wholesome nurse, in Frank Borzage’s 1932 adaptation of Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, in which she cares for World War I wounded soldiers, including Frederic (Gary Cooper).

A memorable movie example of a traveling nurse is Stella (Thelma Ritter) in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window from 1954.

“Stella is a no-nonsense nurse attending to the homebound L.B. Jefferies, played by Jimmy Stewart. She’s rough around the edges – a veteran health worker grounded in reality. She dispenses wisdom acquired from years in the trenches and is integral to the story as a moral guide,” notes Hite. “In Stella, we see a matronly, intuitive depiction of the nursing profession but also a depiction of a profession whose dedication to its most problematic and troublesome clients is unshakable.”

Ask Marie Bashaw, a professor and director of nursing at Wittenberg, University in Springfield, Ohio, and she’ll tell you that her go-to nursing movie is the 2014 documentary The American Nurse, which covers the practice of five different nurses (home nurse, prison hospice nurse, labor/delivery nurse, none nurse, and Army vet nurse) and the patients they serve.

“It shows the actual work that nurses do and why they chose the specialty they did. It’s an actual chronology of their work rather than a cinematic representation,” she says. “The film can inspire any member of the health care team, especially nurses and people who want to become one.”

Mary Sue McInerney, a registered nurse in Palos Hills, Illinois, is also a huge fan of this movie.

“The American Nurse is a beautiful look at the emotional intricacies of caring that nurses are called to do,” says McInerney. “As a nurse, you are called to care for those whom society has sometimes turned their backs on or patients who are difficult to deal with. This film does not shy away from the tough issues of AIDS, prisoners, or the poor and their absolute right to compassion and support.”

Another common contender for a favorite film featuring a memorable nurse is The English Patient from 1996, in which Juliet Binoche stars as Hana, a caregiver of a man suffering from severe burns.

“This movie demonstrates the dedication of Hana, who empowers the soldier through his recovery. This film showed the time that nurses spend caring for patients at the bedside,” says Nancy Mimm, assistant professor and program lead Master of Science and Nursing and Population Health at Harrisburg University in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

Audiences are seeing more depictions of male nurses in cinema lately, too. In addition to Greg Focker (Ben Stiller) in Meet the Parents and its two sequels, there’s Nathan (Stephen Peacocke) in 2016’s Me Before You, and Nurse John (Lenny Kravitz) in Precious from 2009.

“Kravitz provides an excellent portrayal of what it’s like to be a male nurse today. His demeanor and bedside manner in this movie says a lot about how male nurses interact with their patients and within the health care landscape,” notes Nicholas McGowan, an RN and the CEO of Critical Care Academy in Los Angeles.

Other nurse characters who represent their profession well on the big and small screen include:

• Sister Luke (Audrey Hepburn) in The Nun’s Story (1959)
• Eunice Evers (Alfre Woodard) in Miss Evert’s Boys (1997)
• Nurse Emily (Emma Thompson) in Angels in America (2003)
• Susie Monahan (Audra McDonald) in Wit (2001)
• Florence Nightingale (Jaclyn Smith) in a made-for-TV movie of the same name (1985)

Read more...