2002 / 110 Minutes / R
Reviewed by Dale Nauertz

“Femme Fatale” is easily the coolest, most exciting film to come out of Brian De Palma in at least fifteen years. Since “The Untouchables” (if I may say so, De Palma’s master work) Brian’s work has grown increasingly more commercial and less enthusiastic. DePalma has turned out some decent work in this period (”Mission: Impossible”, “Raising Cain”) but nothing to rival such influential classics as “Carrie” and “Blow Out”. In his early days, De Palma was a god of style, breaking taboos and barriers with razor-sharp wit and impressive technical zest. You may find kernels of this brilliance sparkling in the corners of such work as “Mission to Mars” and “Snake Eyes”, but it’s only a ghost of the genius he once revealed in each and every film. To watch such films as “Dressed to Kill” and “Sisters” is to understand why film geeks like Jones and myself regard him as a godlike master of the medium, a man with an innate understanding of what the camera can do under the right circumstances.

“Femme Fatale” deserves comparison among the films I just mentioned. “Femme Fatale” is a bold, ballsy, provocative return to form by a god of the cinema. All of De Palma’s strengths are in full play. There is the playful camera work, the sensational and sometimes sleazy eroticism, the Hitchcock riffs, the sudden violence, and the tight plotting that were all such De Palma trademarks before he subjugated them to studio sensibilities.

The film kicks off with one of the greatest heists that any movie has ever treated us to: a bold stylistic enterprise involving a diamond-encrusted dress, lesbians, a playful cat and the Cannes Film Festival. The sequence is tightly wound and ingeniously set up and it sets the tone for the rest of the film. At no point during this sequence do we have any inkling about what might happen next. The same can be said for the rest of the story. The woman responsible for the heist (Rebecca Romijn-Stamos) double crosses the rest of her gang and disappears to America as the wife of a powerful senator. Several years later, she returns to France, her husband now a diplomat, and has her photo taken by a reluctant paparazzo (Antonio Banderas). From there, the film really kicks into high gear, layering twists and double crosses and revelations so artfully that one can scarcely complain whether they seem feasible or not. One just sits in awe, waiting for the next turn the film might take and enjoying every mesmerizing second of it.

You see, “Femme Fatale” is obviously an exercise through which Brian is rediscovering the joy of making a film, of making his kind of film. This is the sort of movie where De Palma is at his most skillful and ruthlessly effective. De Palma is having a great time orchestrating the plot, placing his cameras, marshalling his crew and toying with his actors. He gets an impressive performance out of Miss Stamos and he gets Antonio to turn off his autopilot and have a little fun for a change. Brian is having as much fun as a kid in a candy store, and he gets us to do the same. The fact that the film actually romps in some nice sexual and psychological territory is just an added bonus.

“Femme Fatale” is one of the most invigorating and beguiling films of the year, as well as one of the few from 2002 that film students may be studying twenty years from now.

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By Dale Nauertz

“The Horror, the horror….”
-Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando) in “Apocalypse Now”

Christmas is a time for good cheer. Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks for what you have been given and think about how fortunate you are. New Years is a time to reflect on the passing year and think about how to improve the one ahead.

But Halloween. That’s a whole different beast altogether. No such thoughtful holiday is Halloween. It’s a time to dress in costumes, eat candy, and watch a movie that will scare the bejesus out of you. Needless to say, it’s my favorite holiday. Much more fun than most other holidays. Much less commercialized (well, the whole holiday was started by commercialism anyway) and the commercialization that has set in is just about having fun. No treacly pap about brotherly love here covering an attempt to sell you everything from diapers to beer. There’s something I can get behind.

And since horror movies are what this holiday is all about, let me give you some handy hints about the good ones. Many of the films that try to pass themselves off as “scary” are just gory, or stupid, or lame. Some of them mistake blood for fear, which it isn’t, if you ask me. Fear is something more sneaky. Fear is about the half-glimpsed thing hiding in the woods. Fear is about what you can’t see more than what you can. I prefer something that achieves eerieness, something that makes my flesh crawl. Something that might even rob me of some sleep.

Which brings us to Number One on my top-five, all-time scary movie list:

1. “The Exorcist”

The only movie that has made me frightened before I even saw it. Just the idea is creepy. The devil taking control of your body. Well, the idea is pretty creepy as it is executed in THIS movie. Not in movies like “Lost Souls”. The turning of the head. The message that rises out of the little girl’s stomach. The overall tone of the movie. Those harrowing last twenty minutes. The phrases that come out of the poor girl’s mouth. I have never seen any horror movie that had such an impact on me. Easily still as horrifying and shocking today as it was twenty-seven years ago. Some have said that since this movie was made, it no longer retains its ability to shock. Some say that audiences have been too jaded since then. I say that’s all bullshit. This is still the creepiest thing ever to come down the pike.

2. “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”

The original, mind you. Not the sequels, not the crappy remake (which is, however, almost worth seeing just to see a young Matthew McConaughey as a sicko tow-truck driver, at least it does have one genuinely unsettling moment…and Rene Zellweger is in it too) I am talking about the first “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”. This movie is truly shocking and unsettling. Like all master horror films, it does nothing to prepare you for the first scare. Suddenly, out of nowhere….well, I’ll let you see it for yourself. Despite its title, this movie is a triumph of eerie atmosphere and true horror, not of sheer gore for gore’s sake. Leatherface is a genuinely terrifying foe, unlike most of his horror movie ilk (he would literally have Freddy Krueger and Jason for dinner) and a force to be reckoned with. It also is sorta like the original “Blair Witch Project”. It’s so low-budget that it actually looks like it is really happening, or like something that actually did happen. Therefore, all the dark humor in the world (incredibly dark humor) cannot dilute the fear that is reaching out of the screen and seizing you by the throat. Not only that, but it’s a one-movie argument against picking up hitchhikers.

3. “Night of the Living Dead”

Unsettling and disturbing are also two great words to describe this, the mother of all zombie movies. Black and white and bringing new definition to the word “stark”, this movie works mainly because of its unpredictability and the claustrophobic aura it creates. Racism and other tensions run high between a group of people as they fight against an army of flesh-eating zombies baying at their door. You don’t know who will live and who will die. The movie also wins bonus points for its unique casting of a black man as the hero. Very creepy stuff, with a dark human commentary at its center.

4. “Evil Dead”

The other “Evil Dead” movies are just plain fun, but this one is harrowing to its icy core. The humor that made the others palattable is not in evidence here, or rather it is of a much darker strain than that of the other films. It is also the one time that gore actually works for a film. The movie succeeds mainly due to its goosebump-causing tone and its unique and ground-breaking bag of cinematic tricks. Not to mention the solid work of an impossibly fresh-faced Bruce Campbell. Sam Raimi’s Hollywood calling card.

5. “Poltergeist”

Tobe Hooper has two movies on this list. What a man. No one does horror any better than him. “Salem’s Lot” is pretty darn good too, although not quite good enough to eek its way onto this list. Anyway, this story of a young girl and mysterious forces in the most haunted house I have ever seen has more scares on it than you can ask of a movie (with the exception of “The Exorcist”). Good performances, creepy moments coming one after another, and many other virtues. A wild, twisted, and eerie ride.

5 1/2. “Scream”

The rest of the movie is nothing but an exercise in hip self-awareness, although a much more fun and involving exercise in hip self-awareness than its two successors and the endless list of clones that it inspired, but the first scene is truly terrifying. Poor, beautiful Drew Barrymore: alone in the house and called by a man who starts out rather sexy and interesting and then turns a lot more scary. The shocking part? SPOILER ALERT: Drew is the biggest star in the movie, and she ends up gutted by the time the opening credits roll. Yikes. That is creepy.

If you don’t want something terrifying on Halloween, however, well, there are some alternatives that are just plain fun.

“Sleepy Hollow”

Beautiful cinematography, decapitations, a dense and wonderful visual style and a hilarious and droll performance by Johnny Depp.

“Evil Dead 2″

For sheer fun and inventive gore, accept no substitutes. Bruce Campbell’s physical comedy here deserves favorable comparison to Buster Keaton and the effects are remarkable. Pure bloodthirsty fun from beginning to end.

“Ghostbusters”

Ghosts, Bill Murray, best comedy in the history of time. Nuff said.

“An American Werewolf in London”

A remarkable eerie tone, the best werewolf transformation in history (all on camera and all stunningly realistic) and some very funny moments of dark comedy. Also includes the funniest rotting corpse in cinematic history.

“Dead Alive”

Dark, violent, often hilarious, very sickening. A good time all around.

That should be enough to make your Halloween a good time. Just pick up some candy and popcorn, put on a costume, and let the fun (and maybe lack of sleep) begin. Enjoy.

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1982 / 115 Minutes / PG
Reviewed by Dale Nauertz

It’s the little details, really, that make “E.T.” such an enduring movie experience. Since then, this formula has been done many other times: “Mac and Me”, “ALF”, part of one of the “Meatballs” movies, and “Gremlins” to some extent. But it’s never been done as well. Not even close. So what has Spielberg done so well here? What is it that he tapped into which struck such a chord with people all over the world? What, in other words, is it that made me watch this movie every day when I was ten or so? (I’m not even kidding, it was every day there for a while.)

Well, he tapped into whatever it is that makes up imaginary friends. He tapped into our hearts yet respected our intelligence. That is the magic of this movie. And it is a sort of magic that few directors have mastered. Say what you will about Spielberg, but when he’s at his best, there is NO other director who has EVER made movies so well. “E.T.” is Spielberg at the peak of his cinematic skills, at the top of his game. All the planets were aligned here, so to speak. All the cylinders were firing. And it’s as good (if not better than) other family-oriented films like “Wizard of Oz”. It’s one of those marvelous films that you can watch with a family, with your parents, with a group of children, or all by yourself without being ashamed of doing so. And there are several reasons why it works so magnificently well.

The script. Credit Melissa Mathison for that. Sure, Steve did a great job. But I’m sure that even he would admit that even the most ingenious filmmaker can’t save a script that just isn’t working. You can see her effortless skill lurking beneath every frame. The concept of the film itself is just magical: an intelligent being from another world, probably the Einstein of his planet (why else would the aliens risk the gas to come back for him) is stranded on Earth and befriends a young boy. It’s brilliant. I mean, think about it. Here you have this brilliant being from another world and he is reduced to a state of childlike wonder and terror by everything around him. It makes perfect sense to have him become friends with a young boy. And what little boy wouldn’t love to have a space alien living in his closet? (As long as it was a nice one, of course. No one wants the thing from “Alien” lurking in there.)

Then you have the characters. Each of them is a strong person with three, strong dimensions behind them. There isn’t a single shaky character in this pot. I love the mother dealing with her children all by herself (Dee Wallace, so perfect here that she got rather typecast) and so overwhelmed by the chaos of her everyday existence that she doesn’t have time to notice the strange visitor in her boy’s closet. I love Micheal, who gives his siblings a hard time, but secretly loves them and his mother and will protect them at any cost. Robert MacNaughton inhabits him wonderfully. Then you’ve got Gertie who, as played by an exceptionally young Drew Barrymore, is the sweetest little sister you can imagine. She asks all the little girl questions and strikes all the right notes. She’s perfect here, and cute as a button.

Then there’s Elliot. He’s a great character: a young boy who suddenly has the feelings of a visitor from another world. And Henry Thomas shines in the role. He is the one you most remember. It’s a complex and challenging role and Henry nails it. He even gets to play drunk!

But the best character of all is E.T. himself. He’s curious and whimsical and a bit of a troublemaker. And he can’t be a puppet. No amount of animatronics could have created this squashy, big-eyed, completely convincing being. The people who are listed as E.T. operators in the credits? Those were people who got paid not to admit that E.T. was an actual alien left behind and found by Steven Spielberg who consented to being in the film. How else can you explain the flawless effects of Carlo Rambaldi and all the others who brought him to life? Yes, Life.

But then you have the direction of Spielberg. He brought all the elements together and I believe you have to give him his due. The production design of James Bissell and the photography of Allen Daviau are also top notch, I must add. But Spielberg elicits wonderful performances and uses the most amazing special effects at his command to create something that has the look and feel of reality. If an alien really did land near your house, this is probably how it would look. He grounds the story in a world of the familiar: cul de sacs, Star Wars action figures, people singing snatches of Elvis Costello tunes under their breath, PEZ dispensers and the like. In order to heighten the believability of it all and make it even more wonderful when E.T. interacts with such everyday devices. In this movie, the alien drinks a couple beers out of curiosity and then spends the rest of the day watching television before being knocked over by a refrigerator door. It is brimming with great, insightful little details. And nightmarish ones as well. Did the guys in the spacesuits who suddenly showed up at Elliot’s mother’s door freak you out? I’m sure I wasn’t alone. It’s a frightening moment. Spielberg even creates a menacing character from nothing more terrifying than a jingling set of keys.

And what of John Williams’ haunting score. It’s one of his best. It underscores the action without drawing too much attention to itself. It fits like a glove. And it also has a multitude of themes that you end up humming several days later. It’s a momentous achievement.

As is everything about “E.T.” They’re bringing this film out to the theaters again, which would be cause for celebration and dancing in the streets if it weren’t for the trepidation I feel about them changing things. What can they improve on with “E.T.”? Are some flashy computer effects going to ruin the seamless animatronics that my jaw still drops at? Are they going to destroy something that is near and dear to me from my childhood? Well, I guess I will see. Maybe they will mess with it all. Maybe I will leave disappointed and broken-hearted. But I still have my VHS copy, the one I have watched trillions of times. No one can take that from me.

Besides, for the chance to see Elliot and his friend soar across the moon on a huge screen with John Williams’ incredible score digitally remastered and pouring from every THX speaker, it’s a chance I’m willing to take.

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1990 / 169 Minutes / R
Reviewed by Dale Nauertz

The biggest problem with the third installment in the highly respected “Godfather” trilogy is that it has nothing new to offer. Everything that happens in this film has already happened in a previous “Godfather” film. And, while it’s all handsomely mounted and done lushly, it’s never as good as it was the first time we saw it.

“Part Three” continues the saga of Michael Corleone, reluctant heir to the family business and the new Godfather. As the film starts, Michael is trying to become respectable. He has made a deal with the Vatican which may make him one of the most powerful men in the world (as well as lend a finally respectable light to his family and their various affairs). He has begrudgingly allowed his son to follow his dreams and become an opera singer rather than being a lawyer for the “family”. And he is trying to make amends with his extremely estranged wife (Diane Keaton). So, as you would expect, the shit has to hit the fan.

Needless to say there are people who would rather the Corleones did not go legit. And these people have access to firearms. Before long, Micheal is forced into a bloody conflict, which he allows his hot-tempered nephew (Andy Garcia) to mostly handle. People end up dead (of course they do, it’s a Godfather movie) and a couple of them do so in unique ways.

But, for the most part, this is little more than a rehash of what happened in the first two films. Yes, I suppose you could argue that this film is putting a fresh twist on these events that it is basically replaying from the other two, but the twist isn’t really that fresh. I had a hard time staying awake through this film. Which, though I don’t really believe the first two are the “Greatest Films of All Time”, I must admit that they never came remotely close to boring me. The performances are good and the direction is alright. But Pacino was much more vibrant in the previous two chapters. The direction was far more impressive. The scenery and camerawork have fallen a few notches. And the plot has a sorry tendency to meander. The sustained intensity and suspense of the first two films is largely absent. This is a pompous, self-important affair with nothing new to say. You say you liked the sustained ending of the first film? Hmm, maybe you’ll like it again this time. You liked the guy getting shot during a festival? Well, you’re in luck! Here it is all over again! You liked people asking for favors during a party? Oh, excuse me, I was busy stifling a yawn there. Well, uh, this time Eli Wallach is asking a favor. It is nice to see him working, just wish he had something important to do.

Yes, Pacino and Garcia are pretty good. So is Talia Shire. The less said about Sofia Coppola, the better (poor girl) but she isn’t as bad as many would have you believe. She’s not anywhere close to good, but she doesn’t deserve the critical drubbing that she gets. She doesn’t ruin the movie. The movie was a lost cause long before she got there. But if you see the first two, you’ll want to see this one. I can’t stop you. Just remember that I told you so.

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1974 / 200 Minutes / R
Reviewed by Dale Nauertz

I never thought I would find myself saying this, but I really do believe that “The Godfather Part Two” is one of the few sequels that goes above and beyond the call of duty and actually trumps its predecessor. A bold statement, I know, but I really do believe it.

The first “Godfather” did a magnificent job of introducing us to the family business of the Corleones and showing us the rules, regulations, traditions and protocols of a mafia family. It had a truly remarkable story arc, strong characters and a very tight plot. “The Godfather Part Two” expands on the themes and characters of the first film and shows us where the saga goes from there. We know the traditions and all of the rules from the first film. So, with that background evidence, we can appreciate this film all the more. We have a springboard. No time need be wasted on introductions. (Not that there was any time really wasted in the first film, not a single moment). We can jump right into the plot and become absorbed right off the bat.

The film is brilliantly layered, showing us the difficulties that Michael Corleone must overcome as he takes the reigns of the family business and makes the family his own. But then the structure doubles back to show us how his father came to power in the 1920’s. It shows us how young Vito Corleone (Robert DeNiro) gains the respect and allegiance necessary to lead the largest crime syndicate in New York and it offers a fascinating glimpse of the said crime syndicate in its infancy. It shows us the meager roots of his power and his well-structured clan, which gives us a deeper appreciation for what Michael is doing with it.

The film is complex, but never confusing. Even with the rather similiar-sounding mafioso names that are being bandied about in the course of the film, we always know what time period we are in, who is being referred to, and what is being done. And none of it is less than fascinating. The first stuff with Pacino is a tad dry, but the film soon takes the stops off and immerses us in its dangerous world. The camera is always placed perfectly, the sets and production are immaculately designed and there are a wealth of details both in the atmosphere and in each of the performances.

Pacino is great. We can see the man we met in the first film maturing and turning evil before our very eyes. We see him changing and it is a little disturbing. In the first film, he was the guy we identified with. He was the audience character, the one we most empathized with and understood. He was the one who wanted no part of the family business and yet was sucked in anyway. In this film, we see him start out with hints of that man within him and then, slowly, through the course of the film, we watch in horror as he becomes something akin to the prince of Darkness. We watch as he alienates those he loves and destroys the very things that make him human. It is remarkable and unsettling all at once.

DeNiro is also awesome. He makes us forget that we are watching (an impossibly young) Robert DeNiro and instead believe that we are really watching a young Brando, making his way in a new, strange land and learning its customs. He then learns what it takes to survive. Unlike Pacino, who is plumbing new depths of his personality on a daily business as we watch, DeNiro is establishing himself and yet retaining his strong, moral center at the same time. He does things we may not approve of, yet we never feel that he isn’t justified in doing them, that he is doing something that is evil or wrong. He’s just trying to provide for his family in the only way that is left him, and yet retain his humanity at the same time.

It is this contrast, this difference in eras, this disparity between father and son, that really makes “The Godfather Part Two” come alive. It is vibrant and vital and fascinating. It has some of the regal detachment of the first film, but none of the redundancy of the third. It uses what we know from the first one and builds on it, as only the best of sequels do. And there are many great performances here. Not just from DeNiro and Pacino, but from Diane Keaton, John Cazale (as the absorbing and tragic Fredo), Robert Duvall, and Bruno Kirby as well.

Add all these factors together and you just might find that this film is the best of the batch. Coppola was at the top of his game here and, when Coppola is in top form, there are few things better. There’s just so much more going on here than in any of the other films. It’s not the greatest mafia film of all time, but it definitely deserves to be in the running.

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1998 / 116 Minutes / R
Reviewed by Dale Nauertz

Now this is the sort of Coen Brothers movie that made me fall in love with them in the first place. If you want your movies to be straightforward efforts whose conclusions you can see coming a mile away, then you want to shy away from this film. But if you crave the unpredictable, the wild, the downright insane, then this film is going to be your cup of tea.

It’s a story about the Dude, or Jeff Lebowski, as his family named him. The Dude, played to perfection(yes, perfection, there is not a sour note anywhere in his performance) by Jeff Bridges, is a stoner. He is also one of the laziest men on Earth. The Narrator tells us so right at the beginning of the movie, but it would not take us long to figure this out, even if he didn’t. I think it is a perfect introduction to this character that the first time we see him, he is drinking a carton of milk without paying for it, then writing a check for sixty-nine cents.

Anyway, The Dude comes home from shopping to find two men waiting for him. The men dunk his head in the toilet and then piss upon his rug. They then discover that he is not the man they wanted and leave him alone to seek out the other Jeff Lebowski, a millionaire with a young trophy wife who owes money to pornographers.

The Dude is nonplussed, however. You see, the rug that was urinated upon really “tied the room together” and now he is without it. At the urging of his friend Walter (a man who was in Vietnam and refuses to let anyone forget it) he confronts the millionaire Lebowski and asks to be compensated for his soiled rug.

This all leads him to be involved in a complex plot of deceit, kidnapping, pornography and money that the Dude is not quite equipped to handle. One of the many delights in this film is the fact that The Dude is involved in a scheme that a Humphrey Bogart character would have been aces at solving but which he is mentally ill-suited for. He basically stumbles upon important information, finding the culprits more by accident than through any kind of keen observational know-how.

The plot, which may seem pretty meandering on first glance, is actually pretty clever. It goes forward the whole way and is pretty straightforward. Yet, since we see it through the Dude’s dazed and easily-distracted eyes, the film takes a roundabout way with things. If you’re like me, you will find this approach refreshing. The scheme does not lay itself out plainly for you, but neither does Life most of the time.

Another great source of glee: the characters. Jeff Bridges gives a great, multi-layered yet deceptively lazy performance as the main character and John Goodman is wonderful as the always-agitated Walter. The other performers are equally good, but if I started naming each of them, this review would run on even longer than it already will, so I will allow you the joy of discovering them for yourself.

The dialogue is perfectly-suited for each of these men, revealing little touches and subtle ways of recycling the dialogue which came before. I loved the way the Dude uses about every phrase he hears for himself at a later moment. Very realistic. I loved the ways Walter related everything, in its own way, to his experience in Vietnam. Coen Brothers dialogue is always very lyrical. It abides by its own unique rhythms and spins. I love it every time I hear it. It is so far removed from the speech of any other film.

I also love their bizarre little visual flourishes. Jeff’s drug (crutch) of choice provides them with many opportunities to showcase their visual polish and stage several dream sequences and musical numbers that are truly memorable.

I love this movie. I only liked it at first, but every time you see it, another little marvel presents itself. To me, that is the mark of a great comedy. If you see it once and laugh but never see it again, then it is all right. But if you find some new treasure each time you pop it in, well, to me that means it is destined to be a classic.

In my opinion, “The Big Lebowski” is on its way to classic status….even if it meanders for a while before it eventually gets there.

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1972 / 175 Minutes / R
Reviewed by Dale Nauertz

Of all the “Godfather” films, this is the one that has seeped most deeply into our popular culture. How many times have you heard the line “I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse”? How many references have you heard to the horse’s head in the producer’s bed? How many times have you heard about the moment in the Italian restaurant when Pacino emerges from the restroom with a handgun? The answer to any of these questions would be “A lot”.

“The Godfather” is the story of the largest mafia family in New York: The Corleones. It immerses us in the world of organized crime in a way that few films ever have. We get to know the head of the “family”: Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando). We get to meet his hotheaded son, Sonny (James Caan). We get acquainted with his son Michael (Al Pacino) who wants no part of the family business.

During the course of this film, “favors” are done. People are betrayed. Murders are contracted. Horses are decapitated. People are intimidated. And, most involving of all, Michael is slowly forced by circumstances to ease into the family business. The story arc of Michael’s character is the thing that is most absorbing about this film. It hooks you and draws you in. Unlike most of the other characters, who exist and live by rules and protocols that most of us cannot relate to, we can relate to Michael. Michael is nothing more than a normal guy who wants no part of his family’s shady business. As played by Al Pacino, he more than gains our sympathy and interest. Pacino is absolutely riveting here.

Not to knock any of the other actors, however, everyone in the film gives a great performance. Much has been said of Brando’s performance (perhaps too much) and it is rather excellent. He delves deep into the psychology of this powerful man and gives us a glimpse of what makes him tick. We see that he is not really an evil man. He is a good man who has someone managed to retain his soul despite the evil business that he is in. He takes care of his family and he takes care of his friends and he assures that they are well provided for. He wants no part of the narcotics rackets because he senses that it is wrong. He aids those who have shown him loyalty. He is a respectable man who gains our respect as we watch. It is a very involving performance, one of the man’s best. If not his absolute best.

James Caan is perfectly cast as the hotheaded and ill-tempered Sonny. He has been playing a variation on this character for his entire career, in fact. He invests himself wholly in Sonny. Sonny becomes a volatile force of nature in his hands, one whose decisions we often dread. Talia Shire does an admirable job as Connie, the sister in the family. John Cazale is also quite excellent as the neglected son of Vito Corleone, Fredo. Fredo tries to do the right thing, but he is a fuck-up. I, for one, can appreciate a character like this. And Cazale does a remarkable job with him. I don’t think that enough has been said of this man.

But the real treat here is Robert Duvall. Duvall is excellent as Tom Hagan, adopted brother into the Corleone clan who has emerged as Vito’s consigliere and makes many suggestions about the family business. He’s a quietly compelling man, stealing almost every scene in which he’s involved and without even seeming to try. Duvall has a subtle, understated grace with his role that is sadly lacking in the third film of the series.

The music, the lush scenery, the remarkable use of shadow and light as they play across the screen, the great performances. All of these ingredients help “The Godfather” emerge as a truly remarkable film with its head and shoulders above most of the films of its genre. No, I don’t think that it’s quite as good as “Once Upon a Time in America” or “Goodfellas”, but it does have dozens of moments that live in your memory long after the film is over. There are many lines of dialogue that you might find yourself quoting days or even years later (much like Tom Hanks in “You’ve Got Mail”).

If you haven’t seen it yet, you owe it to yourself to at least acquaint yourself with this world. It’s an offer that you probably shouldn’t refuse.

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1991 / 128 Minutes / R
Reviewed by Dale Nauertz

Yes, I have gone Scorsese crazy. It can’t be helped, really. He rules. He’s one of the finest directors ever to come down the pike. For years I heard about him, heard his name mentioned over and over and over again, but I never understood what made him so great. Then I saw “Taxi Driver” and I thought “oh, so THAT’s what they’re talking about”. Then I saw “The Last Temptation of Christ” (great, but not as great as Jones makes it sound…sorry, Jones) and I realized that he’s pretty good. I loved “Bringing Out the Dead”. I thought “Goodfellas” and “Raging Bull” were just about as good as movies get. I liked “Casino” a lot. And “The Age of Innocence” is surprisingly excellent.

The first film of his that I saw, however, was “Cape Fear”. So I decided to revisit the other day, seeing as how I am a maniac and all. (At least I am man enough to admit it.) And it holds up amazingly well. Is it “Goodfellas”? No. Is it “Taxi Driver”? Nope. “Raging Bull”? Uh uh. But it is a great, creepy piece of work that might make you look under the car before you go somewhere. Watch the movie, that will be explained. It will make you look over your shoulder a little more than before. And it will make you even more suspicious of men with tattoos.

I have never seen the original, so I cannot compare and contrast the two movies. I know that the villain in the piece was originally played by Robert Mitchum, so I hesitate to say that De Niro makes his Max Cady one of the most menacing villains in screen history. I hesitate because, after all, Robert Mitchum played one of the two or three other great villains in cinema history when he played the insane and morally depraved (not to mention chilling and vicious and hypocritical and all-around evil) preacher in “Night of the Hunter”. Mitchum is unsettling as all hell in that movie. But De Niro will give you a few chills here as well. Damn, he’s spooky. Not so much in the fact that he is bent for revenge and single-minded. It’s his determination, his commitment to his task, and the way he appears sane to all those around him that makes him such a chilling presence. Much of the time he looks a lot more sensible and sane than the story’s protagonist (Nick Nolte).

You see, Max Cady has spent fourteen years in prison for raping and severely beating a young woman. Sam Bowden (Nick Nolte) was his lawyer. When Max learns that Sam buried evidence of the young woman’s promiscuity, he is understandably pissed. And he is out for nothing less than revenge. De Niro has a way around a threat that buries it deeply within your psyche. He gets under Nolte’s skin and, pretty much, makes Nolte’s own concerns and worries and neuroses a lot scarier than what Max actually does. Nolte’s paranoia is his biggest adversary, something which makes it hard for the cops to believe Sam’s side when Max actually does begin to tighten the screws.

The film is so good that it could be a textbook study in the establishment of suspense. Scorsese has always been a master of visual composition, and this film is no exception. There are several images that will haunt you forever after seeing the film (they’ve stuck in my head for quite some time) though I really can’t disclose many of them without ruining some of the film’s most elegant surprises and shocks. There are many deliciously sinister moments in this film. Enough that you may find yourself slowly curling into the fetal position on your couch as you watch the film unfold. The film builds suspense like an architect building a house: brick by brick, first innocently, then gradually bigger and bigger until it’s almost intolerable. The violence in this film, unlike most films like this, has a genuine impact and rattles the viewer. We dread the violence, rather than rooting for the next death like in a “Scream” movie. Nolte is great as the protagonist who, sometimes, does worse things than the villain. He cheats on his wife, he worries, he busts his daughter for smoking pot when he has worse than that in his own past, and he has, after all, taken a holier than thou stance that has robbed a man of fourteen years of his life. We see why he did it (few of us, I think, would want a man like Cady running around outside a set of bars) but it’s still a shitty thing to do and it gives the villain something that most movies don’t bother to establish: a reasonable motive.

Nolte is good, as always, and De Niro is a sinister force to be reckoned with, but the ladies in the picture are also quite effective. Jessica Lange is great as Cady’s worried and ballsy wife, a woman trapped in a marriage she isn’t quite happy with who now has a new and more tangible reason to hate her husband. And Juliette Lewis is great as their messed up teenage daughter: alternately sweet, seductive, strong-willed, shy and a little creepy herself. You never understand until the end where her loyalties lie, and this adds another dimension of suspense and discomfort to the goings on. This is creepy stuff.

Scorsese directs this film (his first straight out thriller, I believe) with such skill and finesse and flourishes that one is reminded of Hitchcock in his prime. I know that is a bold statement: Scorsese earns it. Also great is the resuscitation of Bernard Herrman’s amazing score from the original film. They could never have written better music. Scorsese and Elmer Bernstein both knew it. So they wisely chose to go with the work of a master. And, Man, does it pay off. It just reminds you of what film music has been reduced to. Herrman was a genius with a musical score and “Cape Fear” is a stunning, haunting example of what the man could do in his prime. (Note: Scorsese did, after all, work with the man himself on “Taxi Driver”, another thing that adds resonance and makes it seem less unseemly to recycle a man’s work.) Bernstein does a magnificent job of recreating it. I also liked the way that Robert Mitchum and Gregory Peck (the antagonist and protagonist of the original film) made their way back for small roles in this one. Both men have still got it and it’s a pleasure just to see them working again. It’s a pity that neither of them work anymore, though I’m sure Mitchum’s being dead has more than a little something to do with that. I also liked that Peck’s courtroom suit looks nearly identical to his duds in the courtroom in “To Kill a Mockingbird”. Nice touch that was not lost on me.

Sure, the movie does go a little off the rails near the end (but by that point so has De Niro’s character, so it’s forgiven) but it still packs a rollicking punch. And the sight of De Niro trying to seduce Nolte’s daughter or speaking in tongues or…well, any number of unsettling sights, might never fully leave you. It’s been a long time since a film oozed this much menace. And few characters have been as sheer menacing as Max Cady. Truly a man that I would not want to meet in a dark alley.

Not even with a lead pipe or a bicycle chain.

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2002 / 109 Minutes / PG-13
Reviewed by Dale Nauertz

“Sweet Home Alabama” is one of those movies that seems to confuse pleasantness with actual entertainment. Sure, it’s nice enough. It’s cute and all. But does it really add up to anything? No. Not really.

Reese Witherspoon plays this woman named Melanie who appears to have it all. She has a job as some kind of fashion designer. She has a blandly handsome fiancée who happens to be the mayor of New York’s son. She has perfect bone structure and a gay, black, fashion-related friend. Ah, but she also has some skeletons in her closet. You see, she’s still married to her high school sweetheart (Josh Charles, the best thing about this movie) and she has neglected to tell everyone that she grew up in a Podunk Alabama town filled with the sort of eccentric goofballs Hollywood seems to think live in every town outside California.

So Reese goes back to this town in order to divorce the man she married so she can marry the dull man of her dreams in New York (sure, he’s a nice enough guy, but he ain’t very interesting). In the process, of course, she discovers that she misses her down home roots and there is no place like home and other homespun values inherent in a movie that takes its title from a Lynyrd Skynyrd song (coming soon: “That Smell- The Movie!”). If you’ve seen the trailer for this movie, you pretty much know what will happen at any given turn of the way. Of course she will discover that this town is better than New York. Of course she will stay with the man she left behind. Of course they will all dance to “Sweet Home Alabama” (TWICE, mind you!) at the end and everyone will smile.

The predictability of the whole thing wouldn’t be so bad if they had at least made an entertaining film. If they had decided to invest the film with realistic characters and situations that weren’t simply stock, they might have had something here. But, alas, they go the standard route of such a film. The Alabamians have all the quirks one might expect. Though some of them do manage to make something of their roles. Josh Charles does an admirable job as Reese’s husband, and Fred Ward and Mary Kay Place keep hope alive as Reese’s parents. But it’s just not enough. The film wanders from one scene to the next, forgetting to give any of them a point. She meets someone she once knew, they have a nice chat, and she seems to remember that she didn’t hate them after all. Then she meets someone else she once knew and the same thing happens all over again, and again, and again…for an hour and a half or so. Then there is the standard wedding that comes to a screeching halt when someone realizes that they love someone else. And there’s the big kiss at the end. And there is some nonsense about lightning striking twice.

This film fails in all the ways that “Legally Blonde” worked so well. “Legally Blonde” took a potentially one-joke premise and character and invested it with humanity and originality. It gave its basic idea multiple layers and made it come alive. “Sweet Home Alabama” could have been a refreshing meditation on one’s roots and the difference between city and rural people and worked in some good laughs. As it is, it’s not a terrible way to spend an hour and a half, but it evaporates from the mind the minute it’s over. It’s not a bad film. It’s just a generic one.

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1999 / 91 Minutes / R
Reviewed by Jason Jones

Here it is. The film critics around the world hailed as:

“THE film event of 1998!”

DOG PARK!!!

Okay. So maybe that was some other movie involving Shakespeare, or Ryan’s privates that received that acclaim. But it had to be said for the sake of lunacy, if nothing else. What? You say this film came out in 1999? Well then I must have confused it with some kid seeing dead people, or a man knowing that he will be dead within a year’s time. Regardless, “Dog Park” has all the intangibles of a great film. Dogs, a park, Natasha Henstridge, Luke Wilson, Janeane Garofalo, etc. Nothing but quality can come from such a film, right?

For the most part yes, but it could have been better. Although the same can be said for ninety percent of the movies ever made.

In most parts of the world if you want to find a significant other you a few options: bars, grocery stores, libraries and, if you’re really desperate, church. All other options should be exhausted before resorting to option number four. Nothing against you churchfolk, but it just doesn’t really seem like a bastion of dating activity to me. Now let’s get back to the matter at hand. In the town that this film languishes in, the local dog park (Do these places exist?) is the place to go if you want to meet your match. This is the place where our good friend Luke Wilson likes to hang out with his friend Janeane Garofalo and her dogs. He does this, because his girlfriend has just left him and taken his dog with her.

I don’t think anything could break a man more than having his woman AND dog leave him. How this man goes on living is beyond me. Maybe he manages due to the fact that one night at a singles bar, after eating his pea soup, he makes the acquaintance of Natasha Henstridge. She has just been dumped as well (You can tell this is a movie, because I don’t think there is a man living today who would be dumb enough to dump her). They go back to Luke’s place and just when things are getting hot and heavy, she decides to worship the porcelain god. Apparently she doesn’t hold her liquor to well. Embarrassed by her actions she leaves and begins avoiding Luke in every way that she can. Inevitably they will find a way to get together, but the fun is in seeing how they will get there.

It would be foolish to delve to deeply into a movie like this. It exists solely to entertain and it succeeds the majority of the time. The performances are what you would expect from a film like this. Luke Wilson deadpans every line in his wonderfully monotone manner. He even manages to refer to a night of sexual activity as being “ninja-fucked”. Natasha Henstridge need do nothing more than look gorgeous to fulfill her contractual responsibilities, but she manages to turn in a nice little performance that is much the same as her work in “The Whole Nine Yards”. Janeane doesn’t have a lot to do here, but she does well with what she has. She’s not in her usual cynical bastard mode here, which is a nice change of pace from what I’m used to seeing from her. I can’t say that there is anything terribly spectacular about the direction to speak of, but it doesn’t need to be. It merely does it’s job by sitting there and allowing the story to unfold in it’s own timely manner.

In the end “Dog Park” is a film that you have probably seen before in some way, shape, or form. Many scenes you have seen done before, such as the scenes involving the dog psychiatrist. They are mildly humorous, but they were done far better in “Down and Out In Beverly Hills”. The film does have enough inspired moments of it’s own that it should keep you entertained from beginning to end. Plus you even get to find out what it is to be “ninja-fucked”. With information like that contained within, I’m thinking that “Dog Park” is a film that I would not want to go through life without seeing at least once.

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