A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

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Showing posts with label Norman Reynolds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Norman Reynolds. Show all posts

Thursday, March 5, 2020

Return to Oz (Walter Murch, 1985)


Cast: Fairuza Balk, Nicol Williamson, Jean Marsh, Piper Laurie, Matt Clark, Emma Ridley, Sophie Ward, Fiona Victory, Pons Maar, voices of Sean Barrett, Denise Bryer, Brian Henson, and Lyle Conway. Screenplay: Walter Murch, Gill Dennis, based on books by L. Frank Baum. Cinematography: David Watkin. Production design: Norman Reynolds. Film editing: Leslie Hodgson. Music: David Shire.

As a kid I was completely enthralled by the Oz books, a passion made more difficult by the odd fact that school libraries of the day refused to stock them, so I had to order my copies from the small printing and stationery shop in my town that also stocked a few books. Which is why I have always loved Walter Murch's Return to Oz, even though it was a commercial and mostly critical flop. I suspect that the 1939 Judy Garland movie had so cast its own particular spell that people who didn't know the subsequent books by L. Frank Baum (which were continued not so well by Ruth Plumly Thompson but excellently by Baum's illustrator John R. Neill) were expecting Murch's film to be as brightly colored and as tuneful as the Garland movie. But the Oz books were a much darker business entirely, and Murch's film reflects not only that but also Baum's ambivalence toward technology. In Return to Oz, there's a late 19th and early 20th century mistrust of electricity but a fondness for mechanism, hence the rotund wind-up Tik-Tok, an engaging steampunk character before anyone knew to call it steampunk. Murch and production designer Norman Reynolds have gone back to the source in visualizing Baum's characters, so that the Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Cowardly lion look more like illustrator Neill's visions of them than like Ray Bolger, Jack Haley, and Bert Lahr in costumes and makeup. The filmmakers rely on puppetry and the stop-motion artistry of clay animation as developed by Will Vinton. The effect is sometimes creepy, and much of the movie is probably too dark for very young viewers, which explains some of the difficulty the movie had finding an audience. There are scenes that evoke horror movies in their dark menace, which is all to the point: The era in which Baum lived was more inured to threats to children than our nervously overprotective one. Unfortunately, the box office failure discouraged Murch, the winner of three Oscars for sound design and film editing, and one of the best-known collaborators with directors like George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola, from directing more movies, and put the kibosh on further equally imaginative explorations of the Oz books.

Friday, February 9, 2018

Alien 3 (David Fincher, 1992)

Charles Dance and Sigourney Weaver in Alien 3
Ripley: Sigourney Weaver
Dillon: Charles S. Dutton
Clemens: Charles Dance
Andrews: Brian Glover
Golic: Paul McGann
Aaron: Ralph Brown
Morse: Danny Webb
Bishop/Bishop II: Lance Henriksen
Junior: Hoyt McCallany
David: Pete Postlethwaite

Director: David Fincher
Screenplay: Vincent Ward, David Giler, Walter Hill, Larry Ferguson
Cinematography: Alex Thomson
Production design: Norman Reynolds
Film editing: Terry Rawlings
Music: Elliot Goldenthal

Alien 3 may be the sourest sequel ever made, completely negating in its opening scenes what made Aliens (James Cameron, 1986) so exciting: Ripley's heroic efforts to save the lives of Newt and Hicks (as well as retrieve what remained of Bishop). When Alien 3 begins, Newt and Hicks have died, making Ripley's efforts meaningless. And as if to rub salt in her wounds, she is forced to watch an autopsy of the little girl, just to make sure the alien isn't incubating in her. Not that what follows is much more enjoyable. As I said in my comments on Aliens, what made that film and its predecessor, Alien (Ridley Scott, 1979), so entertaining was the interplay among its well-drawn characters. But there are hardly any characters besides Ripley in Alien 3. Charles S. Dutton and Charles Dance are fine actors, but Dance feels miscast as the brief potential romantic interest for Ripley, and Dutton is given little to do but deliver a homily at the cremation of Newt and Hicks and afterward to run and shout a lot as everyone fights the alien. Dutton's character, Dillon, is supposed to be the spiritual leader of a group of YY-chromosome inmates on the prison planet Ripley's escape pod crashes onto. The religious subplot feels superfluous -- it's apparently left over from an earlier version of the screenplay in which the prison was instead a monastery -- since the prisoners don't seem particularly devout; they mostly growl and leer at Ripley, the only woman on the planet, and a group of them try to rape her. This was the debut feature for David Fincher, who has since proved himself to be one of the more skilled and distinctive American directors, but making it was not a pleasant experience for him -- there were too many misfired attempts to get a workable screenplay, and the director who preceded him, Vincent Ward, was fired. It's mostly held together by Sigourney Weaver's performance and a few exciting action scenes -- though even these are marred by some confusing editing, especially the extended chase sequence through the corridors of the prison at the end. And Ripley's sacrifice -- which should have put an end to the series but didn't -- only adds to the general depression that permeates the movie.