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.

“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.

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.

I watched this today because it’s one of those movies I can watch any time but it was midway that I realised maybe I’d subconsciously chosen it for another reason. It connects to a lot of the movies I’ve watched recently and the feelings I’ve had watching them – from Enchanted to Penelope to Riding in Cars with Boys the other day, I even found similarities to Once here this time around. I’d never watched the introduction on the DVD of this movie before, and in it, Geoff Andrew says some things about the ending that my gut instinct disagreed with a lot, dismissing the romance at the start as meaningless teenage meanderings and such, as if the romance between Guy and Geneviève was never meant to bloom nor could have possibly bloomed, even if he’d returned to her in time. I took as much issue with that idea as I have recently with this idea that innocence lost can never be regained, etc, that I won’t go into yet again.

But as the movie went on, I did find myself looking at it in a different way from before – dare I say it, with some aging mature wisdom on my side. There are a lot of questions I’ve had over this movie in the past, like for example why I continue to love it so much when so many of the characters do things that I would never usually find acceptable. Everybody in the movie is in some way “after something” that they never ask for directly and honestly – both Guy and Geneviève in some way give up waiting for their love, the less said about Geneviève’s mother the better, Madeleine never declares her obvious love for Guy, and Roland Cassard, though perhaps the most admirable character in the movie, is always presented as a bit of a slimeball who looks down on the others – here to the rescue, yes, but through little real effort on his part. I think in the end it’s this full package of flawed characters illustrating perhaps precisely how “people things” tend to transpire whether we like them or not. Even Geneviève’s mother has a lot of pearls of wisdom, though delivered a little harshly (not to mention shrilly lol) at times.

But in the end, any amount of babble like this becomes fairly moot once you’re faced with the movie itself. From the opening title onwards – that rain falling as though from the camera itself on the people of Cherbourg, as though we the audience are already crying on the movie – this movie is simply pure magic that I could bawl through from beginning to end. The music is sublime, the colours are eye-popping, and the characters are, as I hopefully illustrated above, surprisingly complicated given the context. It has the most conflicted but beautiful ending I’ve ever seen, and I still react to it today as I did over 10 years ago when I first saw it: my stomach almost physically churns and tightens, I’m overjoyed but crushed, tears fall down my face over a wretchedly human smile on my lips. This movie isn’t beautiful … it’s beauty. If this review reads like a mess than it’s just an illustration of how the movie affects me, lol, and probably an explanation of why there hasn’t previously been a review of it here despite it being one of my all-time faves.

Nice long first review below so I don’t feel compelled to say too much here this time but to mention how surprised I was that it worked so well a second time. The ending here is probably seen as particularly corny to some, and when I first saw it though it really overwhelmed me I wasn’t sure if it’d just caught me at the right time. I think the reason it looks like it’s actually going to work for me any number of times I see it now comes down to two things: the line that precedes it from the boy, “But this is my story, and this is where I want it to end …”, and all that water. The movie comes down to a child’s hope and water: how beautifully simple can you get? I should also repeat the fact that I should really watch this movie before and after anything featuring James Nesbitt – I’ve really grown to dislike him recently, mostly over the casting of him in the BBC’s “Passion” as Pontius Pilate … but he really is quite amazing here.

September 6th, 2007:

Absolute genius. A quintessential children’s movie (okay, it’s a 12A in the UK, I don’t agree; it gets a little scary towards the end but this so fits the bill alongside old children’s classics that I think it should almost be a U) and a quintessential British movie – addressing poverty, class, religion, the ethnic minorities, all those lovely things – in one. Not to mention the fact it remains at all turns, absolutely, a Danny Boyle film. I’ve yet to see Sunshine, but on the evidence up to now, I’ve got to say, surely Boyle is one of the most consistently brilliant directors not only in the UK but in the whole field.

The basic story is that a few weeks before the UK switches from Pound Sterling to Euros, a young boy discovers a bag stuffed with hundreds of thousands (not millions, but hey, what’s the difference to a child?) and must therefore decide what to do with it before it becomes worthless. If movies like Brewster’s Millions and Blank Cheque come to mind with that set-up, you couldn’t be further off. While all around him seem obsessed to the point of stereotype with football, the kid in question here has this obsession with Catholic Saints reminiscent of Winona Ryder’s character in Mermaids ... he even thinks he can see and talk to them at times (leading to hilarious moments when one of said Saints drops into his cardboard house by the railway for a sneaky joint, lol; or the Geordie Saint Peter telling him, “For Christ’s sake don’t tick them little boxes,” as the kid attempts to send the money to various charities). Against all odds, this kid wants to do good with this money, and is amazed at how hard that is.

I was hooked on this from the moment the Danny Elfman-esque opening music (incidentally, wonderful score all the way through by John Murphy) – coupled with some CGI of a new housing estate being constructed, a bit reminiscent of a Barratt commercial actually, but bizarrely beautiful – struck up, and it only got better from there. It never took the directions I thought it would. At times it’s similar to child fantasy movies like Lawn Dogs or Paperhouse; at times, the influence of much older, earthier things like Whistle Down the Wind is more evident (I have in mind in particular the scenes where the kid and his brother are introducing their school peers to the money; and the long line of homeless people following them to Pizza Hut).

It’s a mesmerising, beautiful movie with much to say about childhood and the state of the world, perhaps best captured best in the abandoned way the hero says to his dad at the end, “Everyone gets robbed at Christmas, dad.” Incidentally, major kudos has to be given to James Nesbitt here. Though I think he’s really talented, he normally manages to do something to annoy me; here, he not only didn’t do that, but he manages to cover up his seemingly uncoverable accent; Daisy Donovan is a delight, too, I had no idea she could act. The kids, it has to be said, aren’t fantastic; but it’s clear that Boyle has almost used their weaknesses to his advantage; again, it’s almost like watching a much older production. This is really a gem, and possible Boyle’s best movie to date.

“Sometimes we love people so much that we have to be numb to it. Because if we actually felt how much we love them, it would kill us. That doesn’t make you a bad person. It just means your heart’s too big.”

I have the Donofrio book queued up to read really soon, like in the next couple of weeks, but I really couldn’t resist watching the movie yet again once it entered my mind this afternoon.

In answer to the question, “Why do boys suck?” I once said, “Because people expect it of them,” and it was like a revelation to me, it just popped out of my mouth without any real thought behind it but I knew immediately that it was true; and this movie kind of touches on that. Like, right at the moment of birth, we see Beverley’s horror at being given a boy – she was meant to have a girl, who would be just like her! But as Steve Zahn says, it’s a boy, and it’ll be just like him!

This movie just explains so many things, I find – I think in short it could be described as, “the cycle of shit” in life; even the marriage proposal here, “so romantic”, contains the ’s’ word, lol. Yet in Beverley’s son Jason, we see how even despite how the world can grind so many of us down and lead people to all manner of quick-fixes that make matters worse, morality and intelligence tend to thrive. The last time we see the “young” Jason it’s following the last straw for Beverley when he turns her in to her cop father for drying weed in the house. She tells her son that he’s ruined their lives, but he fires it right back at her, “That’s not what you’re supposed to tell people when they tell you the truth.” The mother-son back and forth here is as pointed yet at times hilarious as Edina and Saffy in Absolutely Fabulous (a random comparison, maybe: I’ve just finishing watching that show from start to finish, it’s on my mind), him so often telling her how she should be acting, perhaps hitting its pinnacle when he falls into a hot tub, and in the middle of pulling him out, she chastises herself and drops him back, then declares herself a bad mother, to which his response is a simple, “yeh …”.

I think what perhaps made this repeat viewing resonate with me more than any other times I’ve watched it relates to that quote that jumped out at me the very first time I saw it, “I’m 22 years old …” (the rest is below) – suddenly, I’m actually almost 30 lol. The use of the song “All I Have to Do is Dream” by the Everley Brothers, sung by James Woods and Mika Boorem (“Dad, you can’t negotiate my boobs!”) as the young Beverley early in the movie and then at the end (which I’d forgotten entirely) with Drew, suddenly made sense to me: “Only trouble is, gee whiz, I’m dreamin’ my life away …” This is a movie I’d recommend to anybody to watch from the moment they’re ready to see it (and that could be anywhere between the ages of 8 and 28 so, who knows when that is?) but that reveals itself more to you as you grow. I’m still in awe of its little pockets of realism, I find more every time I watch. I’m pretty sure it’s Drew Barrymore’s best movie to date, though that’s by no means the only reason to watch it.

July 28th, 2005:

Nothing to add to the old review (below). I think this movie’s a masterpiece. It’s even more realistic than I remember it. And I remembered how badly Steve Zahn’s character degenerates at the end, but I’d forgotten how far gone he kind of already is at the start. It’s really one of the saddest characters I’ve ever seen. I’ll definitely read the Donofrio book one day.

20th February 2004:

“I’m 22 years old – that’s almost 30, and I still haven’t accepted that this is my life. And I just wish that I could be dumb. And then I wouldn’t know better and I could be happy and stop hoping. And I’m telling you this like you’re interested in my boring life.”

This movie was a surprise. I expected to like it purely for the presence of Drew Barrymore but she amazed me. She plays between ages of 15 and mid-thirties perfectly. The movie towards the end reminded me of Ted Demme’s Blow – the way Steve Zahn’s character has totally degenerated towards the end, but is still able to express love to the son he can’t even recognise. The way real life is portrayed in this movie is shockingly true. Just a simple thing such as Drew Barrymore’s character working in a fast food joint – the way she’s joking to some people off camera and she turns for the customer window and sees some old school enemies who always “knew” she’d end up in a place like this, the way her expression just totally upturns and you know, this is the worst moment of her life.

Great performances from James Woods, Brittany Murphy (who has one of the films funniest scenes – “My daughter’s a tramp! My daughter’s a tramp!” – alongside Barrymore trying to fall down the stairs to the song “The End of the World” which accompanied Murphy’s suicide in Girl, Interrupted), and Sara Gilbert who we don’t see enough of these days as the one character who seemingly “gets it right”. Just for its portrayal of life itself, if a little depressing if it catches you in the wrong mood, this movie deserves major kudos.

“Hearts will never be made practical until they are made unbreakable.”

It truly is the happiest film ever made. And perfect to boot, like, literally, perfect, so much so that I don’t feel I need to say a lot more than that. I was really drawn to the sheer number of immediately identifiable icons in the movie this zillionth time watching it – it’s something I’ve really started to be interested in in a lot of movies recently: like just those props and simple images you can remove entirely from their context in the movie and yet their association is so indelible that pretty much anyone will know the movie from them. The gingham dress, the ruby slippers, the green-faced witch, a witch in a bubble, another under a house, the poppy field, the Emerald City, the yellow brick road, the red sand hourglass – and of course the scarecrow, tin man and lion. Any one of these things captures the imagination enough in itself. To put them altogether in one ninety minute swoop with the songs and the simply perfectly cast Judy Garland tying it all together is for me to practically bottle everything it means to dream.

For me it mostly comes down to those last scenes; the wizard declaring, “No I’m not a bad man – just a bad wizard,” bestowing the gifts upon Dorothy’s friends at the same time really highlighting the worthlessness of the societal things that package us like diplomas, medals and testimonials, in turn proffering the slightly cheesy but no less truthful notion that it really is just who we are that counts; and of course, “Oh Auntie Em … There’s No Place Like Home,” that swell of music that never fails to make me cry my eyes out.

Yes, I guess it comes to the same almost dreary happiness in its close that I hated in Enchanted – “But that’s so easy!” the Tin Man even declares when Glinda reveals to Dorothy the means to get home – but it’s the way it elevates that normality to something fantastic, never dismissing the wonder of imaginary Oz (if it is imaginary at all, I feel the urge to add) in the process. I was reminded of that wonderful line at the end of the last Harry Potter book, “Of course it’s all happening in your head … but why on earth should that mean it isn’t real?” I’m babbling and I’ve done too much of that lately. It’s just a perfect movie, okay?

Well, finally, I loved this one so much it went over A Clockwork Orange in my 1971 list and thus shot straight to the top of my favourite movies of all time … kinda knew that’d happen sooner or later. Again, there’s little to say that I haven’t said below or that others haven’t said before, but I noticed a couple of cute things this time around worth mentioning, both of them costume related; the way Harold is dressed exactly the same as the psychiatrist in their first meeting, and the way Maude is dressed almost exactly the same as a little girl walking in the same way as her behind her at one of the early funerals … Maude, though, carrying that bright yellow umbrella that makes her look more like the little girl, lol. It’s just an absolutely beautiful movie I could quote or talk about scenes from for hours. “For me, they will always be glorious birds …” – “Most of life’s sorrow comes from people who are this – but allow themselves to be treated like that …” I probably should’ve saved it for Valentine’s Day … though that’s reserved for Hannibal still this year One day I’ll write a much longer review … for now, just consider it an even higher recommendation, if you’ve not seen it yet, than I gave for Beautiful Girls a few weeks ago.

January 5th, 2006:

I’m surprised by how much I said in my first review of this (below). I really can’t think of much to say about it right now, I need to watch it so many more times. I want to know ths movie by heart. Everything about it is perfect. Its offbeat take on life, death, and love is beyond compare. Maude is one of the greatest movie characters ever.

18th October 2004:

Someone recommended this movie to me a while ago and I already knew about it and knew it was a movie I wanted to see, and after that recommendation, I wanted to see it even more. I don’t know why it took me till now to finally see it.

I was barely even in the right frame of mind to watch it, nevertheless it belongs forever in my top 100 movies of all time. It’s only just at 100 after a first viewing but I just know it’s going to rise and rise. These two characters are people I want to hang with forever. Harold and Maude belongs in that group of movies that just tell you to grab life by the balls. It’s almost terrifying in that aspect, Maude is so free-spirited she would make almost anyone on earth feel somewhat lifeless.

And the soundtrack by Cat Stevens … well, it’s awesome, but more than anything makes me want to hear more Cat Stevens. Why is this soundtrack never uttered in the same breath as Simon and Garfunkel’s The Graduate and Aimee Mann’s Magnolia? I see something of Cameron Crowe’s influence coming from this movie too, I wonder if he’s ever mentioned it on a commentary anywhere – I’m going to have to watch Almost Famous again.

Definitely one of the most romantic movies of all time.