Tagged Sterling Hayden

The Godfather: A Definitive American Classic

The Godfather. 1972. Directed & Written by Francis Ford Coppola; based on Mario Puzo’s novel of the same name.
Starring Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, James Caan, Richard S. Castellano, Robert Duvall, Sterling Hayden, John Marley, Richard Conte, Al Lettieri, Diane Keaton, Abe Vigoda, Talia Shire, Gianni Russo, John Cazale, & Rudy Bond. Paramount Pictures/Alfran Productions.
Rated 14A. 175 minutes.
Crime/Drama

★★★★★
POSTER
The Godfather is one of the rare films I believe is better than its source material. I read Mario Puzo’s novel a long time ago when I was about eleven or twelve years old, one weekend as I was in the woods hunting and fishing with my grandfather and uncles. It captivated me every waking moment when I wasn’t busy hauling gear or casting a line. The violence and sexuality and the raw language of Puzo struck me. Something I never forgot, as a reader and as a young man who eventually went on to become a published author himself. Part of reading that novel always stayed in my mind. Then when I’d finally seen the movie adaptation not long after it made me understand there was a way for film to improve upon its origins. Francis Ford Coppola and his ambition made this into a worthwhile project. As is evident, he’s a director that never backs down. Many of his choices throughout the production weren’t exactly what the studio and producers imagined, everything from the dark, shady look of the cinematography to the casting of Al Pacino. Luckily, Coppola’s iron will seems to eternally capable of winning out, and we’re left with his choices. Undeniably the best ones possible. Not every last classic of American cinema is as classic as the critics and audiences who love it want us to believe. That being said, certain classics are considered exactly that for a reason.
The Godfather nails every last bit what it aims to do. There’s not a single moment of bad acting, nor is there ever a misstep in the way its shot. If this were made like every other picture at the time, the end product wouldn’t be near as fascinating. Rather for a movie that’s considered classic, as if to signify it’s part of a type or a set of movies from that era that are alike in some way, this one is very much different from other films from the 1970s. Coppola dared to take on a dangerous story, one that accentuated the underworld of Italian-American crime while taking a legitimate look at the real people caught up in its Black Hand. Further than that he didn’t settle for making a blockbuster that appealed to the specific demographics Paramount Pictures had in mind. He came out with something more visually beautiful and intricate than an average Hollywood picture. This let the whole film industry and its varied audiences know that even the major studio productions can keep their artistic heart without being an independent project. Forever, I’ll consider Coppola – for this and Apocalypse Now particularly – a reason for why directors can still be artists within a studio system.
Pic2
Let’s talk about oranges! We’ve all heard about this one, so take a deeper look.
First scene is between Tom Hagen and Jack Woltz, a bowl of them sits at the table. This is the first sinister event where the oranges give us a foreboding look at what may soon come. Of course, we know what ends up in Woltz’s bed not too long after. A gruesome scene. This sets up the whole element of oranges signifying something bad about to happen, which extends through the film, as well as its sequels. One of those nice little pieces of symbolism that makes this movie feel more akin to great literature than great movies, though it’s clearly one of the latter above anything else.
Second scene comes just prior to Don Corleone being gunned down in the street. He goes to buy some fruit, oranges to start, and this ominously lets us know there’s about to be a tragedy.
I love that Coppola decided to use this little system because it gives the whole thing greater depth, along with the good writing in general and the nicely fleshed out characters. In every way, the director makes sure this becomes more than a big studio picture with dollars in its eyes. Best part is that the orange symbolism goes on throughout the trilogy, not only a part of this first film.
Pic2
The cinematography from director of photography Gordon Willis is all around fantastic. As is the editing. These aspects collide in such a perfectly classical way. Francis Ford Coppola exerts such great, effective control as director, which is in part due to him taking on the screenwriting duties, as well. The look of the scene where Don Corleone is gunned down has to be one of the best in the entire trilogy. Without a doubt. The darkness almost seems to encroach the sky, as the deadly scene commences. Then the overhead shot of Vito being shot, falling on the car, the guns going off, it’s so effortlessly gorgeous and well blocked that you know how everything is laid out came about meticulously. Some shots can appear accidentally. This is not that type, whatsoever. One example of the eye Coppola has for framing. That’s a reason why the overall film is so damn good. Every bit of the darkened camera work, the shadowy lighting, all those thoughtfully considered shots and the precise blocking, it all makes this better than any average big budget adaptation of a novel. The directorial choices out of Coppola are impeccable. Not every director can block well enough to make it evident. A guy like Coppola does so to a point of feeling like a theatre director, making his shots stand out at all angles.
So much acting talent to take in. Even during the most seemingly insignificant moments and scenes this whole cast makes everything interesting, at times powerful. Partly Coppola, through the original writing of Puzo, is able to convey gangsters in a more three-dimensional view than they’d ever been seen before onscreen. Gangsters have been around the Hollywood stories since as early as films were being made. Yet this movie takes us further into the psychology of these men. You don’t always agree with the way these characters act, nor that they’re so involved in such dastardly criminal activity on many levels. Although you will find yourself a little more informed, at least in the way they do things. The characters themselves and the performances take us into the human beings behind the business. Again, these actors won’t make you necessarily empathise, but they will always, always keep you hooked to the story and the intensity of the plots.
Pic3
Above anything else, The Godfather is entertaining. The characters and the plot, every inch of the story rivets the audience. Marlon Brando is at the pinnacle of his career, no matter what other great, epic roles he’s taken. Likewise, James Caan and Al Pacino are both fantastic in their respective roles as the Corleone brothers; distinct personalities, each part of the same crime family and subject to its effects, so while they feel real different they are also just like real brothers. Add to these lead actors guys like Abe Vigoda, Richard S. Castellano and others only round out the cast making the story rumble right off the page. Oh, and Robert Duvall can never be forgotten. He crafts Tom Hagen into just as classic a character as the rest, often overlooked simply because of the other star power bursting through the screen.
If you don’t dig this movie, that’s fine. You cannot, however, claim this is not a classic. And not a perfect one. There are so many amazing aspects to The Godfather, from the powerful acting to Coppola’s adaptation of Puzo to the downright saliva-worthy cinematography. Each time I watch it, and until this writing it’d been a good seven or eight years, there’s a new love I find somewhere between those luscious, dark frames, all the brooding Pacino looks and the well delivered dialogue. This is one movie that will never fade in its awesomeness. Until the end of time it’ll remain one of the greatest in cinematic history.

Advertisements

Altman’s The Long Goodbye is Perfect Post-Modern Film Noir

The Long Goodbye. 1973. Directed by Robert Altman. Screenplay by Leigh Brackett; based on the novel by Raymond Chandler.
Starring Elliott Gould, Nina van Pallandt, Sterling Hayden, Mark Rydell, Henry Gibson, David Arkin, Jim Bouton, Jack Knight, David Carradine (uncredited), Rutanya Alda, Jack Riley, & Arnold Schwarzenegger (uncredited). E-K-Corporation/Lion’s Gate Films.
Rated R. 112 minutes.
Crime/Drama/Thriller

★★★★★
POSTER
Robert Altman is forever one of the greatest filmmakers. His innovation in capturing dialogue, his ability to encompass an ensemble cast so easily and effortlessly into solid storytelling, so many things make him a legend. He was simply the best. His movies often end up exploring very human stories, no matter their grandiosity or in some cases weirdness. Always, his focus remained on the human drama of life.
The Long Goodbye is a different case, only slightly. Taking on a Leigh Brackett screenplay, adapted from Raymond Chandler’s novel, Altman defies what the genre commands, what the viewer expects. He brings his ironclad style to the front, as well as a natural-feeling, slick performance out of Elliott Gould. The Chandler elements are there, but Brackett’s writing takes the famous Chandler character Phillip Marlowe out of the 1950s, placing him smack dab in the middle of 1970s Los Angeles, though still a man ahead of his time. All these things in their right place make for entertaining viewing. Not only is the film a joy to watch, allowing us the privilege of lapping up great directing from Altman, the story and the characters are vibrant. Like you literally walked into the middle of this film noir, the camera becoming a character in its own right. If you dig Chandler, you’ll certainly find Brackett and her script an interesting journey.
Dive on into a world of cold hearts, warm guns, flaming passion, and smart mouths.
Pic1
What do I need a cat for? I got a girl.” This line from a young grocery clerk to Marlowe almost epitomizes the difference between him and all the other men in the story. He’s the only gentle, kind soul, lost adrift in a sea of heartless people without any degree of loyalty. Elliott Gould is perfect. Absolutely perfect. He embodies the laid back, nonchalant nature of what Phillip Marlowe is all about. He’s absolutely paying attention to detail, his whole life is a god damn detail. At the same time there’s a quite an aloof sense about him. Not in that he’s oblivious. Rather, he’s comfortable in his own skin, even if he’s uncomfortable in a situation. Gould can give us the sly Private Eye in Marlowe, while also calling into question the morality at play in a complex performance.
The small details about Marlowe’s character is what makes the movie interesting to watch. Like how he tricks his cat into believing he’s gotten the appropriate brand of cat food that it enjoys, and still the cat won’t eat. “Its okay with me,” says Marlowe. This is an oft-repeated line throughout the film’s runtime, as the plot gets increasingly more bizarre and intense for him, Marlowe almost seems to get more relaxed, more mellow with each passing scene. Because he’s gradually accepting the world is a bit crazy. This all comes to head in the end after Marlowe commits an act that is not a part of the original novel. Brackett changed the ending, Altman said he refused to the movie if they changed her finale. So in a way, this repeated line is how the main character somehow comes to an understanding about the world, insisting it’s okay with him. In the end, nothing is okay, and we find the biggest juxtaposition in where he’s ended up – he wasn’t one of the crazies, he was a sensible and moral man caught amidst so much turmoil, only to land himself right there next to all the madness. An aspect of Marlowe is that he’s not really meant as part of this world (in Brackett’s screenplay), just so happens he’s a Private Eye, so the more he gets caught up in the whirlwind of criminality, the further he must dive into the murky morality of navigating that whole landscape, the less Marlowe is able to hold onto his own morality. This is the ultimate dilemma in which the character finds himself. His actions in the end are against morality, and also driven by morals. Quite a sticky little spot to be in.
Pic2
What I love most about the writing is that Chandler was ahead of his time with Marlowe, as a character. So in the original 1950s setting, there’s this sense of Marlowe being a post-modern-type character. Even when the cops show up for their first chat with him early on, he quips: “Oh, is there where Im supposed to sayWhat is all this about?’ and he says, uh, ‘Shut up I ask the questions‘?” The way in which Leigh Brackett writes is he partly keeps the spirit of the novel, the hardboiled fiction of which Chandler was just about king, then at once he gives his own post-modern twist on the genre. So that direct line from Marlowe is the character’s own hint at the subversion of genre.
Brackett was an incredibly screenwriter, as well as a writer in general. She worked on The Big Sleep (another Chandler-Marlowe caper), Rio Bravo, and perhaps most famously The Empire Strikes Back. Often hailed as hugely influential for being a woman writing science fiction in the late 40s and into the 50s onward, which most certainly she was, though I can’t help feel she was also equally adept at writing film noir and crime stories. This is my favourite screenplay of hers, personally. Of course there are a huge liberties taken all over the place. However, why would you expect any different from here? Part of her power was subverting the general expectations. And do you really think Altman was going to direct some straight take on Chandler’s biggest, perhaps most convoluted novel? Not likely.
This brings me to the director himself. He’s one of my top five favourites. Although his genius is well known inside and outside of the movie industry, by those with whom he worked and also those of us that watch his films, there’s still an underrated quality to him. I don’t often enough hear Altman mentioned in the same breath as directors you always hear people talking about. The Long Goodbye is an atypical story for him to tell, but he does so with his typical Altman grace. He films Gould’s Marlowe lazily walking around his apartment, to the apartment next door, to the grocery store and down its aisles, and every bit of his movement, his speech, the way the character almost drags himself through life is captured like any other character out of the director’s filmography. That is to say, he’s captured naturally; a human being in his own element. Brackett brings the idiosyncrasies of Marlowe (via Chandler’s writing) out and adds some of her own invention to give him a decidedly ’70s feel, which work so well with Altman’s directorial choices. The naturalism of his way of filming, the sound design right down to the dialogue (particularly how Gould is recorded; makes you feel close to the character), these elements lend themselves to making a unique slice of film noir cinema.
Pic4
This is one ramblin’, gamblin’, 5-star classic. A personal favourite of mine from the ’70s. Altman has a large part to do with it, then you can’t forget Gould for a second. Their talents are enormous in this film noir – or maybe it’s a neo-noir? Either way, fantastic all around. We also can’t forget Sterling Hayden. Ever since I first saw Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove I’ve been captivated by his talent, so as one of a younger generation does I went back in cinema time to revisit some of his other movies, then worked forward – getting to this one. His character is also great, the writer Roger Wade. Hayden channels equal parts Ernest Hemingway and his own creation into one fun persona. He adds an extra element to the whole spectacle. If anything, you’ll love The Long Goodbye for its characters, some slightly typical, though most against the grain. Throw Altman’s interesting techniques and intriguing style of directing, and this is a piece of crime cinema that’s easily up there with some of the best.

The Wonderful Foolishness and Biting Satire of Dr. Strangelove

Dr. Strangelove Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. 1964. Directed by Stanley Kubrick. Screenplay by Kubrick, Peter George, & Terry Southern.
Starring Peter Sellers, George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, Keenan Wynn, Slim Pickens, Tracy Reed, Peter Bull, James Earl Jones, & Jack Creley. Columbia Pictures/Hawk Films.
Not Rated. 95 minutes.
Comedy/War

★★★★★
POSTER
Based on the novel Red Alert by Peter George, Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove is easily what I consider as one of the funniest films of all time. I love me a good Farrelly Brothers flick, In Bruges is another one that kills me, Anders Thomas Jensen’s movie Adam’s Apples is a god damn riot. Then there’s stoner comedies like Cheech and Chong among others that give me a kick, some of the Broken Lizard movies are downright hilarious. Point is, I’m not snobbish about my comedy, nor do I think this film in particular is high brow. But I love comedy from any time, any era, any corner of the world.
Dr. Strangelove is so good because it came along at a particular time. In the midst of the Cold War, in a time where extreme ideology certainly reared its head in the U.S. and had people paranoid of communists infiltrating society, Kubrick – along with Peter George himself and brilliant writer Terry Southern – turned the book Red Alert from something sombre into an absolutely knock ’em down, drag ’em out riot. All the same, there’s nothing slapstick about this, and even in its ridiculousness there’s still always a contained feeling; that clinical process that Kubrick seems to inject into almost every one of his films. It’s capable of being incredibly funny while also taking on the concept of nuclear war, completely inept heads of government and more.
I still remember seeing this for the first time. Each viewing since then feels like the first all over again because every joke is still fresh, especially in this day and age where lunatics are all too near the big red button. I’m always laughing just as hard. And for that, I thank Kubrick. So much of his filmography is quite serious, which I love. However, it’s nice to see the funny side of that great director, in no less than one of the greatest comedies – if not THE GREATEST – in cinematic history.
Pic1
Sterling Hayden is pitch perfect as General Ripper. There’s no way anybody could’ve given Ripper such a funny turn. When he starts going on about his “essence” there’s no way I can keep a straight face. It is at once frightening and all the same makes you giggle. That’s the overall genius of the film. Certainly when it comes to Hayden’s character. He is just a great actor, whose performances in films like Kubrick’s The Killing and The Godfather are memorable. Although not near as memorable as General Jack D. Ripper. And what a hilariously dark name for his character.
This brings me to the fact of names. Look at a few of them: Buck Turgidson (sounds slightly like turd yet also literally spells out ‘turgid’), President Merkin Muffley (do I need to point out what a merkin is, or what that then means for his last name?), Colonel Bat Guano, Major King Kong (played amazingly by Slim Pickens). Many of the main characters are named with tongue planted firmly in cheek. However, the President himself is most interesting, as his name seems to play into part of the character’s purpose.
One major aspect of the satire in this story is how the President of the United States of America is made out to be the ultimate pawn. Merely a figurehead. The whole fact he’s been overridden when Ripper goes mad and starts the nuclear attack on Russia points to the fact he really has no ultimate power, when it comes down to the wire. The fact the POTUS is named Merkin Muffley suggests a couple things. Mainly, the idea of a merkin – a pubic wig – suggests he is a fake, or a literal wig that hides something, concealing. So Merkin himself, as a figurehead for the government, is just a peon. He’s made to look all powerful when really it’s everyone underneath him, mainly those in the War Room (and obviously General Ripper who overstepped his rank) holding all the real power.
Love when Kong reads out all sorts of materials in the plane, including condoms, nylon stockings, lipstick. Such a farce, yet unless you’re really paying attention you might just pass off this brief moment. That’s another brilliant aspect to the script. There are a number of points where the writing weaves a serious situation through excellent satirical dialogue that you could miss it if you’re not focused. Then in other scenes it’s almost dripping with satire to the point that if you miss it, you’re just not watching the film.
Pic2
The actors are all in fine form. You cannot ignore the pure genius of Peter Sellers, though. Three different parts. Each more hilarious than the last. It’s hard for me to even decide which one of them I love most. Mandrake is priceless in his juxtaposition with the perpetually crazy General Ripper ranting on about fluoridation and how Commies never drink water, only vodka, and all sorts of further madness. President Muffley’s conversation with the Russian Premier is one of the film’s highlights, as well as perhaps one of the most prevalent instances of the absurdist satire at play. But you’ve also got the eponymous Dr. Strangelove. He is appropriately the big finisher, giving us an awesomely performed finale to both finish off the film, and also the performance of Sellers. He is one of the greatest comedians to have ever graced the silver screen. Even if you recognize him slightly, each character has their own way of talking, on top of an accent, and they even move differently. All a testament to his impeccable acting talents.
In addition, the great George C. Scott brings General Buck Turgidson to life. Right from the get go he has me laughing. As the scenes wear on and the situations become dire, his comedic efforts and timing only serve the plot even better. One of my favourite moments from Scott is after Turgidson answers the phone and it’s his secretary, the one with whom he’s sleeping; he gives her this great little speech that makes me crack up. Everything about Scott’s performance is stellar, right down to the incessant gum chewing of General Buck.
Pic3Pic4
There are so many impressive elements to Dr. Strangelove, but above all else it is funny, it cuts deep while also making things laughable. The satire and its execution, from George C. Scott to Peter Sellers in his three roles, is first and foremost what makes things work. As usual, Kubrick makes good directorial choices. There is an ominous feeling even throughout all the comedy, and that clinical sense of direction further seen in his later work is very much at play. All in all, I’m comfortable calling this my personal favourite comedy of all-time. Enough moments make me tear up from laughter that I can easily say that. Never will I get bored of the political commentary and satire jammed into this movie. In my top three Kubrick, which is saying something. If it’s not your cup of tea, I understand. But damn, are you ever missing out if this doesn’t strike you as funny as it does me.