MOVIE REVIEW | Run Silent Run Deep (1958)

In a nutshell, Bored & Dangerous says: “I’m not saying that Run Silent Run Deep is the best submarine picture out there, but I am saying that it’s the one that made me realise what a unique and great part of cinema history the submarine picture is.”

“Mr. Cartwright, with all due respect to your rank, may I say I think you’re an ass?”

I used to make fun of my dad for once walking into a video shop and asking where the “submarine pictures” were.  The idea of him thinking they were their own genre seemed so goofy to me.  But the more I watch, the more I realise the “submarine picture” isn’t far from being its own genre.  Separate from war movies, and even from navy specific war movies, they have their own filmic language, they have their own devices, rules and even clichés.  And I started to really notice this while watching Run Silent Run Deep.

We’re balls’ deep in WWII, and an area known as the Bungo Straights has seen many a US ship and sub sunk by the enemy Japanese.  At home in Pearl Harbour, Lt. Jim Bledsoe (Burt Lancaster) is on the verge of getting command of his own boat. Until an old seadog, Commander BJ ‘Rich’ Richardson (Clark Gable) decides he’d like a sub to command.  Now he’s in charge, Bledsoe is his number two, and they’re shipping out with a disgruntled crew, heading towards the Bungo Straights.

MOVIE REVIEW | …And Justice for All (1979)

In a nutshell, Bored & Dangerous says: “Al Pacino is so great in it, I blame this movie for his reliance on bluster and bravado ever since.”

“Being honest doesn’t have much to do with being a lawyer.”

Call off the search!  I found it!  I found the moment Al Pacino went from the fresh faced, quiet, intensity of roles like Michael Corleone on The Godfather, and morphed into the gravelly voiced yelling that’s defined his career for the last several decades.  I haven’t just found the movie when it happened, I’ve found the exact, specific moment.   The movie is …And Justice for All.  The exact, specific moment, happens in the climactic final scene, just a few minutes before the end credits roll.

Arthur Kirkland (Pacino) is the last honest lawyer who genuinely cares left in Baltimore.  He cares so much, when the movie opens, Kirkland is in jail, charged with contempt of court after taking a swing at a judge.  You see, Kirkland’s client Jeff (Thomas G Waites) was pulled over for a broken tail light, but after a case of mistaken identity, thrown in jail for murder.  Now, a year later, Jeff is still in jail, and Judge Henry T Fleming refused Krikland’s latest request for an appeal.  Hence the punches being thrown.

MOVIE REVIEW | ***AFI WEEKEND*** #47. A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)

“The American Film Institute’s list of the 100 Greatest Movies was selected by AFI’s blue-ribbon panel of more than 1,500 leaders of the American movie community to commemorate 100 Years of Movies”. Every weekend(ish) during 2015, I’ll review two(ish), counting them down from 100 to 1.
 
“Deliberate cruelty is unforgivable, and the one thing of which I have never, ever been guilty of.”

Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh in front of the camera.  Elia Kazan behind it.  All working from a story written by Tennessee Williams.  Plenty of movies come with good pedigrees, but in the early 50s, this collection of people goes beyond dream team.  It’s the kind of thing that means if the results were anything less than phenomenal, it would be considered a failure.  It must have been immense pressure for everyone involved when they were making A Streetcar Named Desire, and they all stood up to the challenge, knocking it out of the park.

Blanche DuBois (Vivien Leigh) arrives in New Orleans looking for her sister, Stella (Kim Hunter).  When she tracks Stella down, she meets Stella’s husband, Stanley Kowalski (Marlon Brando).  Causing trouble at the local bowling alley, Stanley immediately has Blanche on edge.  Suspicious of why Blanche has left her job as a high school teacher, Stanley straight away expects the worst of his sister-in-law and tries to dig up some dirt to justify his suspicions.

MOVIE REVIEW | ***AFI WEEKEND*** #87. 12 Angry Men (1957)

“The American Film Institute’s list of the 100 Greatest Movies was selected by AFI’s blue-ribbon panel of more than 1,500 leaders of the American movie community to commemorate 100 Years of Movies”. Every weekend(ish) during 2015, I’ll review two(ish), counting them down from 100 to 1.

 

“It’s always difficult to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And wherever you run into it, prejudice always obscures the truth. I don’t really know what the truth is. I don’t suppose anybody will ever really know.”

Movies adapted from stage plays often face the same criticism, that they feel like stage plays. Out of necessity, plays tend to take place on a limited number of sets, and tend to be all about dialogue. While I like August Osage County a lot, one of the main bones of contention with its knockers was the long scene at the dinner table where almost every character got a monologue. On stage, that’s great, on screen, it can seem a little static and bland.

But when a play is built entirely on the claustrophobia of one restricting set, and the characters are there to argue with each other, all of a sudden limited sets and speechifying monologues make everything that more intense. Which is why 12 Angry Men might be one of the greatest ever stage to screen adaptations.