I may have only seen this once since the first time seeing it on the big screen, and I really don’t know why but for its sheer length and weight for what, at a first glance, seems like a relatively simple and almost corny tale to tell (I mean: it’s literally about “getting back in the saddle”, lol …)

I’ve written about how much I love the girl and horse subgenre, possibly more than any other kind of movie, and what I realised to my surprise watching this one this time is, it might be the best of the bunch, because of the huge void it places between the girl and the horse that only makes their bond more beautiful in the end. It might sound silly that I’d forget such a thing, but I’d forgotten just how much the horse features here. I remembered the horror of the accident at the start, but I forgot about the central part of the set-up which is that this movie is about two desperately wounded and broken creatures (“Who’s ever gonna want me like this??”) finding their feet again.

It’s one of those movies that is all about a person trying not to cry, and finally finding the moment where they find they can. It’s interesting that the episode of This American Life I listened to last night had a sorta-similar story to that of Grace here feeling responsible for her friend Judith’s death. It doesn’t get much more painful than that feeling, I think; that old cliché, “It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault.” Some clichés are clichés ‘cos they work.

“We need to show Pilgrim how to help you get on. ‘cos y’see, there’s a point where neither of you is gonna need me anymore. And we’re there. I’m not asking.”

Then there’s the other characters. I love how communication (or the lack thereof; or even the transcendence over the verbal kind) is conveyed in the movie. At times even the humans appear somewhat horselike and animal in their behaviours to one another, it reminds me of the shrieking towards the end of The Birds when certain characters almost seem to be becoming avian. I haven’t read the novel but I imagine that the great chunks of silence here are explained by way of beautifully descriptive inner monologues etc. Rather than try and fill those out in dialogue or cut them entirely, the screenwriter and then Redford choose to simply allow those silences to speak for themselves, the camera lingering on a glare, a stare, a turn of the head slowed down by doubleframing. It’s a huge reason why the movie winds up so long but I think it’s wonderful that Redford had the liberty to do that. As anyone who knows me will know, I’m all about silences; I couldn’t possibly hold this movie’s use of them against it.

If nothing else, it also happens in my opinion to be by far the best work Scarlett Johansson has ever done. It’s really like the book, the movie, the character were made for her.

“We was beat when we was born.”

I needed this one pretty bad (and again, I’m totally behind, this was before this past weekend). It’s amazing how many of my thoughts, things I’ve written this past week or so in places I can’t even link to such is the world, came together while I was watching this movie, as if someone up there, call it the movie god, was watching down and decided to send me a message saying, “you’re not alone on that, don’t worry.” (gugh, sorry if that was cryptic – I’d make it less so by way of more words but I really just need to post these straggling reviews while I’ve the urge)

“I’m just not used to having whether I stay or whether I go matter to anybody …”

The songs don’t come as thick and fast as I’d like, I found my focus drifting somewhere towards the end of the second act (speaking in 3-act movie terms, not 2-act theatrical terms, lol) – it would I think work ever so slightly better as the 90 minute TV movie musical like Annie or A Christmas Carol. But once the pace picks up again at the end – boy oh boy does it ever pick up, from “Once and for All”, the reprise of “And the World Will Know” all the way up until the end credits.

I’m not often stirred by things like this but like I said it just spoke volumes to my current concerns with how people are freely allowing their senses to be beaten down by keywords in the media that genuinely amount to brainwashing. The sight of Robert Duvall as Pulitzer with his fingers in his ears to the crowd of truth outside his building is seriously almost more music to my eyes than Alan Menken’s songs are to my ears.

“I can’t afford to be a kid no more.”

It’s really just one of those movies that, despite its flaws, when it hits its highs, of which there are many, it honestly feels like there needn’t be another movie in the cosmos. I keep going back to the lyrics of Once and For All this evening – nevermind the wonder of Alan Menken (god, I was tearing up almost before the picture had finished fading in with his opening notes, lol), if I’m honest Jack Feldman’s work is what deserves praising more here. Seriously if we could have just one or two movies a year with as much passion in them as there is there, the world would be a better place.

“There’s no one here but the fighters.”

I was pretty damn loathe to watch this without any prior knowledge of what it was about etc after Spartan completely failed to ignite me. That I’ve been terrible at keeping up the movie-watching habit lately (I’ll get better soon, I promise) made me even more apprehensive: I thought a stupid comedy might’ve been an easier option to get me writing again.

But dammit, it’s Mamet. I decided that if this movie couldn’t hold my attention then there must clearly be something wrong with me or it, lol, and I dove in. The opening credits didn’t let me down – all the names you want in a Mamet movie, Rebecca Pidgeon, Ricky Jay, a couple of surprises in Tim Allen and Jennifer Grey, the brilliant Robert Elswitt on photography duties. And then the madness begins.

The movie is pretty convoluted for the first 40 minutes. Speaking of Elswitt, the quirkiness of the plot points actually kind of reminded me of Paul Thomas Anderson. A strange and frazzled girl walks out of the rain into a martial arts place and almost shoots a police officer and we’re just expected to accept that “these crazy things happen all the time” as the Magnolia narrator might say. The moment is “forgotten” and we move onto something else. I think the one reason none of this bugged me because it was scored – yes, scored, I think that’s the only word for it – at all times by Mamet’s unmistakably perfect dialogue (something else that’s familiar in Anderson movies, in fact – I don’t think I’d ever entirely made the connection). It’s like Brian De Palma’s Snake Eyes plus the old world meets new world ways of Ronin meets Rocky and Mamet’s edge.

But fear not, because it all comes together in the end, in more astonishingly powerful ways than I’d ever have seen coming. The strange girl turns out to be an attorney who has issues with physical contact after being attacked before the story begins. There’s a scene where a trainer from the martial arts place at the start, our hero Chiwetal Ejiofor, who must surely be headed for an Oscar some day if not today, breaks through the wall and holds her in exactly the way she doesn’t want in order to help her. It’s an outstanding scene ending in the line above that speaks volumes about how the good guys, the honest guys, maybe avoid such confrontations too much. The movie is ultimately about having enough of the bullsh*t and speaking the truth and it’s done in such an overwhelmingly brisk and unique fashion … one should expect no less from David Mamet, but like I said, after Spartan … it’s practically phenomenal. Double bill it with In Bruges. Even I’m inclined to dub it a “man movie” despite it’s leanings towards very womanly issues in that attorney subplot that really made the movie for me – those two times Ejiofor and the attorney touch are cinema at its best to me.

I wanted to love this so much so, as such, I went in with the utmost fears of being grossly disappointed. I’d seen the marketing clip of Meryl Streep singing “Winner Takes it All” and it just took my breath away, it was the kind of emotion I never really associated with the musical which, in all it’s Greasey popularity, I had no option but to loathe from the off. I don’t see the reasoning behind spending £20 and upwards to see these jukebox shows in the theatre, and though I’ve certainly done my share of standing and clapping etc to a show that moved me that way (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang), I hate when I go to a show and feel like I’m being compelled to get involved. I don’t like to share that admittedly grumpy side of myself lol but, hey, it serves as the perfect setup to my review.

For 20 minutes or so (aside from the gorgeously spinetingling “I Have a Dream” opener), it wobbles something disastrous. There’s a lot of exposition in setting up the basic story (girl is getting married, doesn’t know who her father is, invites the three most likely candidates without her mother’s knowledge – but you probably knew that better than me) around the song “Honey, Honey”. But then Meryl Streep finally pokes her head in on the scene. And the movie literally takes off when she opens her mouth to sing “Money Money Money”.

Now I’ve never denied that Streep is one of the best actresses ever to grace the screen. But she never really did anything that struck me beyond the appreciative acknowledgement of her talent like this did. It was there in that short “Winner Takes it All” clip. But taken as the full 2 hour performance – it’s overwhelming. She’s so alive, so full of joy, and the camera loves her. It gets right up in her face in places but at times just sits back, like us, in awe of such a fantastic woman being in the moment. If I called Evening “so vaginal it’s stifling” (_checks_: yep, sorry, that was me, lol), then this movie is so much so that it’s joyous. When even my least favourite ABBA song, “Dancing Queen”, can move me to wish more than ever I could join those girls dancing and leaping in the water, so much so I almost applauded out loud in the very British silence of the multiplex, lol … you know we have a winner. It just killed me how beautiful all the female interactions were in this movie, how upfront and unashamedly they were placed on the screen, all manner of girls and women, mothers and daughters – never done in this retributional way so many feminist tracts come; just as a statement of people with as much right to be and love and live as anybody else, no matter what their age, sex or level of conventional beauty. Did I mention that all this is glorious?

But, oh, there are men too. Pierce Brosnan, Stellan Skarsard, Colin Firth: never mind the Meryl, Julie Walters and Christine Baranski, all of whom in opinion were perfect on the tunes … these guys are adorable when they sing. The guys’ songs seem mostly to come in those moments of character where they’re unveiling the side of themselves that is usually regarded as something that ought to be hidden. There’s a moment when Brosnan sings to Streep, I think it’s his first sung piece in fact, and it cuts back to her face in a picture of shock, the kind of shock that you get when a traditionally uptight male breaks down and cries and reveals an embarrassing secret or, hey, just plain talks ... this is how screen musicals should be, this is how the songs should come in my opinion. It’s just wonderful. Colin Firth’s voice is like the lead singer of the Zombies or Belle & Sebastian: that endearing weakness, again the honesty and love that I love so much about this movie. There are lots of other guys in the movie too lol, very much there for the girls or guys who want them lol.

I didn’t expect this to be one of my “gush, gush, just get the initial reaction into words and publish!” reviews, lol, but the movie really did strike me that way, moreso than I even expected or hoped. I’m still buzzing when I remember the songs and the faces – I even emerged with a new favourite ABBA song, “Slipping Through My Fingers”, which I’d never heard in my life – it comes just after Sophie asks her mother to help her prepare for the wedding, something Streep takes to with heartrending glee. The song is about a young girl’s first day at school and the mother saying goodbye like losing her to the wide world, and we see Streep doing her daughter’s hair, butting a bandaid on her ankle and kissing a booboo better as she brushes her teeth, sitting in a chair doing her nails and talking, all in the present. If I go any further into why this scene crushed me so much I’ll be here for pages lol. All I’ll say is it’s the most beautiful standalone scene I’ve seen in too long and for it alone I could go back down to the multiplex and pay for another ticket right now, let alone all the other wonderful moments I haven’t even touched on.

When even the cheesy end credits stuff (where it really does threaten to become “menopausal karaoke night” as I wrote here lol) had me buzzin’ (and frankly wishing I was in a livelier audience) ... again, you know a good thing when it’s there in front of you For me it’s really the first great movie of the year, and I’m happy shocked to find I’m still rooting for it to catch on enough to be an Oscars contender next year.

“He’s altogether lovable
But he’ll always be a two-bit punk
So he’ll never be my beloved.
What a shame.”

Parts of this almost provoke the same reaction I sometimes have to parts of Leon, the boyish gangsterry action dialogue etc. There’s something almost frighteningly misogynistic about it that seems to strike me more each time I watch it and kinda makes the fact it’s regarded so much as a classic without this element being raised for discussion so much just a little unnerving. I still find the rape towards the end physically impossible to watch in its entirety. But it’s not just that scene – an earlier scene, possibly a couple, show women clearly enjoying the sickening treatment they’re subjected to à la Straw Dogs – right at the start a minor character seems far more aroused than frightened by the cold touch of a gun on her nipple.

There are hints throughout that all this is just a character thing and that I probably shouldn’t be so bugged by it – I love Robert De Niro’s line when he gets re-acquainted with a girl they rape while robbing a bank. She comes on to him personally, but he turns her down, adding, “Besides if I gave you a good crack in the mouth I’m afraid you’d probably like it.” I mean, there are women like this in the world, sad but true, it reminds me of that, “What is it with women like you?” scene in Pay it Forward. But I don’t know, these moments still don’t sit entirely right with me. It’s just an issue of balance, I think.

On which point, of course, there’s Deborah. Played so memorably at first by Jennifer Connolly first as the girl Noodles will never have, though she certainly wants him her sights are set so high on her future. That line above, that whole monologue, it’s like over half the movie to me, a little like Estella’s treatment of Pip in Great Expectations, how many young relationships go this way, “I like you. But you smell,” etc (oversimplified perhaps but you get the gist). Later she’s played even more beautifully by Elizabeth McGovern, the slight European twinge to her accent distancing her from the grown Noodles even more, “Where’d you learn all that parlez-vous stuff?” he asks her when they finally go on a date towards the end – the most beautiful scene imaginable made almost as unwatchable as what follows when you know where the evening leads. In that awful scene in the car, she’s not only losing her dignity, possibly even her virginity; she’s losing him, any idea of his good side she has slips away forever. He becomes just the two-bit punk to her, and I find that the most crushing part of the movie, that finality of a stupid action in determining where a friendship or even love will go or terminate (yeh, I guess it goes without saying – I’ve been there – not as severe but I’ve definitely been stupid, who hasn’t?).

Anyway, even despite my discomfort, it is a true masterpiece, I wish I had the time to write a much longer and better review than this. All cut versions of the movie should be destroyed – really, do yourself a favour and see the 4 hour cut (I think by now that’s the more easily available version anyway but it still needs signposting lol). I’ve literally only focussed on the Deborah and Noodles thread here because it’s the part that pierced my heart the very first time I saw it and that stuck with me all these years. But there’s so much more. The Charlotte Russe scene, the Clockwork Orange styled baby swap, Danny Aiello’s wonderful turn as the police chief (called Aiello, LOL) they give it up the ass to, lol. It’s perfect.

Well, colour me surprised. I thought this was my least favourite of the series, had believed some recent talk about the annoying Short Round, borderline racism etc, but none of it holds. This is riproaring from the Bugsy Malone meets Blade Runner start to the simply stunning rope bridge finale, passing through genuinely creepy crawlie, jump round every corner, horror and mine rollercoasters midway. I personally find Short Round hilarious, and John Williams adds even more catchy themes to the series score. The whole thing is just breathtakingly non-stop, at times almost hilariously so – it’s still semi-episodic in structure but rather than the episodes starting and finishing in their entirety they just keep on coming and flowing into one another. I absolutely loved it this time around, I think it’s this one that Crystal Skull will really have a hard time topping for me.

When I saw 1408 last year, I’d already been a fan of John Cusack I’m guessing since Grosse Pointe Blank 10 years previously – but it was still like having a veil lifted from my eyes as I realised, he wasn’t just cool, he was one of best actors I’d ever seen. It was only shortly after that that I heard the buzz around his performance here and that was it, I was sure he’d finally get an Oscar nomination.

Well, I wasn’t let down. Cusack’s performance here is completely overwhelming, everything that isn’t spoken playing off his face more eloquently and painfully than any words could muster. Clint Eastwood’s score is quietly brilliant too. Both, as I thought months ago before even seeing or hearing either, should’ve featured in this year’s Oscar nominations.

Though I hadn’t realised it, I think the reason my reviews have suffered a little lately is because I really badly needed a tearjerker like this to clear the system. The two girls who play Cusack’s daughters are amazing too – we almost seem to see them growing up on the screen before our eyes, so much do we come to know them and so well is it conveyed to us how important the days covered will be in their lives to come. They even get their ears pierced together midway. The ultimate effect of this is that when the moment comes that the movie is all about – dad finally finding the right time and the right words to tell his girls what has happened – even though we’re in possession of the facts from the start – it’s like finally we’re really being told too, and we take it just the same as the girls. It’s a beautiful, beautiful movie, and at 85 minutes it really proves they needn’t come much longer.

It almost pains me to report it, so much was my love for Chapter 27, but this may actually be the better of the two movies – I’d heard as much but I’d put it down to general Lindsay hatred and the fact that this one just came first.

While they’re actually both similar in far greater ways than I’d thought – even down to the Jude character played by Lindsay in 27 who I hadn’t actually realised at the time was based on a real girl, Judith Stein – this one seems to me to do a better job of at once displaying fascination for what went on in Mark David Chapman’s head through the months, days and hours leading up to that moment of madness whilst at the same time making no such podium for the man himself.

I would have to see 27 again to be more sure of this, but I know that this movie made me genuinely despise Chapman more than the other movie, even while I was intrigued by his reasoning. It seems perhaps this is why 27 was threatened with boycotts etc while this one slipped out relatively unnoticed – the star cast of the other, particularly the presence of Lindsay when she was at her worst, can’t have helped either.

I know a lot of people think both these movies should be ignored because they give the killer, “what he wanted.” It’s a toughie, I have to admit – and again, it was in this telling that I gave that feeling more thought, where I realised more: Chapman’s still alive, and Lennon is dead. The guy broke history, the world, art, in two when he pulled that trigger, like if there are parallel universes just imagine how vastly different the one is where this didn’t happen. But my conclusion is always – we can’t not talk about it. And amazingly, like I said despite my thinking 27 was an amazing piece of work, it seems that the need to talk about it is so great that there actually is room for more than one movie – even one so strikingly similar in places as this – about it.

I wouldn’t recommend watching them both in tandem or anything – it would likely be either overwhelming or confusing and in any case diminish the impact of both – but if you have any kind of interest in Lennon, “Catcher in the Rye”, the mind of an assassin, then you owe it to yourself to see both eventually. I personally find them both phenomenal, but for now for the way and degree to which it made me feel the “right” sentiment towards the killer, this one just has the edge over 27.