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Posts from the ‘1979’ Category

Nosferatu the Vampyre

Werner Herzog considers F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu to be one of the finest films in German history, so his 1979 remake of it reflects the German director’s passion and pride in the process of filmmaking. More than that, however, it reflects the mood and texture of vampirism in bleak terms. It describes without telling and moves without taking a step, allowing the brilliant Klaus Kinski to draw out the vampire organically while Herzog handles the rest.

At the core of Herzog’s version of the vampire legend is a sense of pity for the Count. All good vampire stories, whether in film or in books, need a certain sense of pity and regret. This isn’t a sort of lifestyle to aspire to, nor is it a condition to envy. The lust for blood, at least in the reliable tales, is a metaphor for a desire for life and for love. Herzog takes that element and presses it deep within the landscape of our story, thus transforming Count Dracula into a character to feel a certain sense of shame for.

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Stalker

Andrei Tarkovsky’s Stalker is a masterpiece of philosophical profundity and visual splendour.

The Russian director is best known for his obdurate carriage on the beauty of the human spirit and his examination of the human condition, especially in a philosophical and theological sense. His conviction that man is, indeed, a spiritual being tempers his films with power and delivers a sense of loveliness beneath the technical components of filmmaking.

With 1979’s Stalker, Tarkovsky munificently and graciously places his characters in the middle of the definitive spiritual struggle. On the surface, the movie may well be seen as just another dystopic science fiction film.

Based on the short novel Roadside Picnic by Boris and Arkady Strugatsky, Stalker follows three men as they travel to a post-apocalyptic wasteland known as The Zone. The Zone has been cordoned off by the government and its history is vague. Some suggest that The Zone was the site of a meteor strike, while others float more possibilities.

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Manhattan

Woody Allen wrapped up the ’70s with Manhattan, a film with faultless tone and beautiful black-and-white cinematography from Gordon Willis. The movie received two Academy Award nominations, one for Best Writing and one for Best Supporting Actress (Mariel Hemingway). AFI lists Manhattan at #46 on their “100 Years…100 Laughs” compilation and the U.S. Library of Congress has deemed it “culturally significant.”

Allen’s film is intricate, but not excessively so. The writer/director stars as Isaac Davis, a 42-year-old comedy writer with two divorces behind him. Long before George Constanza, he has a lesbian ex (Meryl Streep). Isaac is also in a relationship with a 17-year-old girl, Tracy (Hemingway), but he sees no future in it. While spending time with his friend Yale (Michael Murphy), Isaac discovers that he might be in love with Yale’s mistress, Mary (Diane Keaton).

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Caligula

Caligula

Caligula is quite simply one of the most bizarrely bad films of all time. Directed by controversial Italian director Tinto Brass and by Penthouse founder Bob Guccione, the film has the “distinction” of being the only major motion picture to feature scenes of graphic explicit sex. With respected actors on the bill and hardcore sex and graphic violent flowing like wine, Caligula is one hell of a strange movie. The film was written by Gore Vidal, who had written a screenplay from an unpublished miniseries based around the life of the Roman Emperor Gaius Caesar Germanicus (aka Caligula). Vidal, a frequent contributor to Penthouse magazine, contacted Guccione for help with financing after being unable to secure any.

Naturally, Guccione had two conditions for Vidal. The first was that the film would no longer be a modest production, but would rather be an alarmingly huge spectacle akin to Hollywood’s sword-and-sandals epics from the 1950s and 1960s. The second condition was that a whole lot of sex would be added to the film to help draw attention to Guccione’s magazine. Vidal agreed and Caligula headed to production on a road paved with the best intentions.

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Monty Python’s Life of Brian

Monty Python’s Life of Brian

I go back and forth on being a Monty Python fan, to be honest. I loved Monty Python and the Holy Grail and I love most of what I’ve seen of the Flying Circus. I even used to own a few of the comedy cassette tapes back in the day and used to sing along to the Lumberjack Song and others. Still, when the time came to rewatch Monty Python’s Life of Brian, I found myself losing interest and getting bored frequently throughout the film’s runtime.

I’ve been around religion all my life and have studied it, especially Christianity, for a number of years. I’m also not easily offended, nor can I actually recall a time in which I felt offended by a film or TV show in terms of my beliefs or other religious beliefs. Without going way off track, Monty Python’s Life of Brian didn’t offend me and I don’t fault it for trying. I fault it for failing to make me laugh.

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