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What I look for in a film
Posted 28 July 2005 in
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After assigning 750+ ratings and developing a pretty dependable gut instinct about them, I thought it was about time to decide for myself what factors specifically influence my ratings — what makes the difference between, say, a  and a  . You must always bear in mind that my ratings are incredibly subjective and my favorites incredibly personal — it is, actually, my life cinematic — and probably no use to anyone who doesn’t have very similar taste in film to mine. So this is no absolute guide to film criticism, but rather a way of justifying my position.
So, a few crucial elements for me:
Screenplay. Probably the most important factor. In all truth, what I prefer is a filmed play; I’d be primarily a fan of the theater, I’m sure, if I had access to it. There’s no one kind of screenplay I like, but something about its construction and content has to speak to me. I’m nuts for the dazzling and obvious brilliance of Charlie Kaufman, the razor-sharp wit of Joseph Mankiewicz and James Goldman, the subtle and character-driven scripts of Billy Wilder, Woody Allen in all his glory… Put it this way: my choice for Best Film of the year is more likely to also be my choice for Best Screenplay than it is to be Best Direction.
Direction. As long as we’re on the subject. Direction very rarely influences my feelings about a film — I only ask that the shots, the execution, the feel of a scene reflect what’s actually going on in the scene. It must be of a piece. I don’t mind reserved direction, that will never detract from a film; I do mind unnecessarily flashy direction — frantic jump-cuts, overuse of steadicam, meaningless close-ups &c. I’m impressed by a well-done long take. I’m impressed when a director trusts his/her actors to do their job and doesn’t manipulate the performances. I like story-driven innovation — for this, I would refer you to Allen or Hitchcock, whose use of the camera always reinforces a specific mood they’re trying to create.
Performances. When I construct lists of movies I want to see, I am most often guided by the filmographies of my favorite actors. I go through waves with different actors, feeling compelled to devour every film they’ve ever made in a short period of time. There are many directors and screenwriters whose entire body of work I’d like to see someday, but I’m never as compelled by them as I am by my top 20 or so actors. I would say Katharine Hepburn and Emma Thompson are the only two who have such power over me they can push a film into my Top 100 simply by being in it. There are a couple dozen others I love enough to see everything they’ve ever done, regardless of quality and my taste. Two honest confessions — I am more drawn to women, and I am more drawn to Brits. If an actor has caught me under his/her spell, I’m quite likely to give the film a higher rating.
Genre. Fair or not, there are certain genres that are hard-pressed to get a high rating out of me. Romantic comedies rarely get more than a . Flat-out comedies rarely get more than a  . Sure, these are to a certain extent tired, formulaic genres, but I recognize my bias. I’m also likely to write off westerns, musicals, sci-fi and action right from the start. On the other hand, period films, quirky comedies, unlikely romances and 30s & 40s romantic dramedies rank higher with me before I ever see them than perhaps they should. Just what I gravitate toward.
Technical considerations and production values. It’s very unlikely elements like editing and lighting will influence my rating, unless I think the choices distract from the story, or undermine/contradict the point of the film. Occasionally I am very impressed by this sort of thing — I didn’t care much for Touch of Evil, but Welles’ brilliant use of light and angles alone makes it a film. If a film has poor production values — due to budget constraints, or whatever — I very readily overlook it if the story is good, the characters are compelling, &c. I have no problem with very basic and spare sets and technicals.
Personal connection. I’m basically a self-obsessed person. You’ll see in most of my reviews I’m more concerned with the issues a film raises in my life and how it makes me think and feel than I am with its objective strength or artistic merit. Most of my favorite films are tremendously meaningful in my life. Perhaps I relate strongly to one of the characters, perhaps I had a wonderful experience viewing the film with a friend, perhaps it came to me at a time when I desperately needed it. An impersonal masterpiece is at best a . A pretty good film that is very important to me will always be a  . Hey, I’d never try to argue Dead Again is a finer film than Vertigo, but it does mean a lot more to me.
Rewatchability. There are a lot of beautiful yet disturbing films I adore, but I might not be keen on seeing them again anytime soon (eg, Dancer in the Dark). This usually doesn’t count against a film. On the other hand, a not-quite-brilliant film I could watch any day of the week will get a big bump in the ratings. There’s no doubt, however, that every film that gets a would stand up to repeated critical viewings from me.
“I’ll stop that car, and I won’t use my thumb!”
1934 - US
Director
Frank Capra
Starring
Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert, Walter Connolly, Roscoe Karns, Jameson Thomas
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I have a hang-up about classifying anything made before the 1970s as a ‘romantic comedy.’ Because most films in this genre produced within the last 30 years follow the same basic script, I can’t bring myself to call something that manages to be at once romantic, yes, and comedic, sure, but also intelligent and original a romcom. When Harry Met Sally… and Love Actually are the only undeniable examples of the genre in my top 100; few others have a shot at surpassing the mark by the opening credits. Yes, this is snobbery. The Philadelphia Story? Not a romcom. Annie Hall? Not a romcom. The Lady Eve? Not a romcom…
Except… strictly speaking… of course they are. Strictly speaking, I have to admit, it’s among my favorite genres. And It Happened One Night, the first film to win the Academy Awards for Best Picture, Actor, Actress, Director and Screenplay, sets the standard for all of them.
It’s a charming road caper starring two legends I’ve never seen in a film before, believe it or not. Claudette Colbert is at once cute and chic as the spoiled rich girl with an adventuresome streak — the script does give her a chance to explore a bit of range and I think her Best Actress award was well-deserved. Clark Gable is tremendously loveable as the wolfish, street-wise and virtuous reporter — and he’d have to be, considering Warne’s as-good-as endorsement of domestic violence and immediate assumption of the financial decisions of a woman he has just met, naturally a bit alarming to a modern viewer. But I’ll dismiss it as a history lesson and admit I find Gable irresistible. Together, the two have real spark, and from sparring to stolen glances it’s easy to care about what happens to them. |
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“Nothing would stop me if I had the means.”
1978 - UK
Director
David Hugh Jones
Starring
Judi Dench, Jeremy Irons, Annette Crosbie, Harold Pinter, Susan Williamson
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The film opens with a montage of shots of the Langrishe home and grounds, expansive and impressive; one can imagine how lively and extravagant life may have been here at one time, but the gardens have become overgrown, the estate cluttered and run-down. Since their father passed away, the Langrishe sisters have found it increasingly difficult to run the home. Servants have been dismissed, luxuries have been forgone. By now, bankruptcy is imminent — the three women are barely holding on as the life they have always known crumbles around them.
There is a quiet desperation about their situation. There are no tears or anger; it seems the only emotion they have energy left for is resignation. So it goes with Imogen and Otto. Their relationship is doomed from the start, and both seem to know it. It is only a matter of things running their course to their inevitable conclusion. It is a matter of how one deals with the implacable decay.
Judi Dench is a delight to watch as the enigmatic Imogen, a woman of quiet strenghs and peculiar defenses. At middle age, she is most probably a virgin and she has moments of prudishness and innocence, yet this is the same woman who revels in her ‘air baths,’ and is electrified by the thought of a man nearly, but not quite, catching sight of her naked body. The first time she meets Otto, as we learn later, she is wearing nothing underneath her raincoat, and her secret clearly empowers her: though he assumes a condescending attitude from the first and attempts to bully her with his superior intellect, her posture, gait and manner show she is completely in control of the situation. She is bored and indulgent. After he goes to great lengths explaining the difference between planets and stars, hoping she will be embarrassed for thinking they could be one and the same, she answers coolly, ‘I see.’
I had never seen a Harold Pinter screenplay performed before, but one quickly gets a sense for his signature style. The dialogue is often sparse and mundane, but the meaning behind it carries loaded implications. Dench and Irons are masters of their craft enough to make the unspoken blunt with their bodies and eyes. Take this simple exchange, after their first meeting:
Imogen Will you care for some tea, perhaps?
Otto That is very kind of you.
Imogen Not at all.
It is obvious from this moment that they have casually and decisively reached an agreement: they will have affair.
Otto is a perpetual student with no real aim and possibly little to offer academically. His thesis, so hopelessly obscure, gives him the security he needs to continue plugging away and accomplishing nothing. He speaks in esoteric non-sequiturs and well-crafted but ultimately meaningless lines, unfailingly condescending, and his manner is not simply elucidatory but bullying. Having ascertained Imogen is an intellectual inferior, she is to him nothing more than a useful object — not without its purpose, but absolutely without sentiment.
Imogen is no victim, however. It is quite clear that there is no commonality nor any real basis of attraction between the two. On their first (and only) date, Otto stops just short of attempted rape and then subjects her to discomfort and verbal abuse at the hands of his Dublin friends. She leaves him the next morning, and could have ended it there. All along, she has control, and she has a choice; she understands the situation perfectly. I think she makes a conscious decision to fall in love with Otto, perhaps out of boredom, perhaps curiosity. But they do not like, are not interested in, have nothing to say to one another — it is an entirely self-willed decision. Imogen has something to get out of it as much as Otto does. But once the choice is made, Imogen truly does fall in love with Otto and is made vulnerable by it; I don’t believe Otto ever does, nor do I believe he is really capable of it.
Imogen is sensuous, earthy, natural — she has a deep desire to nurture. She is driven by gut impressions and emotions. Her affair with Otto is like her air baths writ large: the secrecy, carnality and forbiddenness of it are empowering to her. At first, this sexual awakening brings her to life. She has a purpose to propel her days and an outlet to express her quieted desire. And at first, she can simply ignore Otto’s more self-glorifying behavior and sly insults.
The relationship deteriorates quickly, however, as it was always bound to do. Otto only truly looks at her when he wants sex, and even then, his attention grows less frequent and more violent. Their insults become more spiteful, and the injuries more lasting.
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Quotations
Otto Irish women are remarkably pure. I have great reverence for Irish women.
Otto … A planet in fact.
Imogen I thought they were the same.
Otto The same? The same as what?
Imogen The same as each other, planets and stars.
Otto Decidedly not…
Imogen (after his self-important, empty pronouncement of the play’s quality, Otto asks her opinion) It didn’t mean very much to me.
Otto Until he returns, the place is ours.
Imogen Ours? (laughs) What on Earth do you mean.
Otto The life of the scholar is lived within a very narrow compass.
Imogen You’re a very naughty man.
Imogen I liked it when men on bicycles went by. They didn’t know how close I was to them.
Imogen Oh, Otto, what are you doing to me?
Otto I shall complete my thesis, of course.
Imogen And you have me.
Otto Yes I have you indeed. A great solace.
Otto One of the heresies of Johannes —- —- was that the sexual organs would not be resurrected on the last day. His students, alarmed by the boldness of his thought, stabbed him with their pens.
Imogen Not with their penises?
Imogen Don’t I give you enough? Are you never satisfied?
Imogen Do I no longer excite you? Is that what it is?
Otto No, you excite me, certainly. It’s only –
Imogen Only what?
Otto You grind your teeth at night.
Imogen Oh is that a fact? Well what about you? What about all the lousy, filthy, degrading, disgusting things I have to put up with from you? What about them?
Imogen You must miss it sometimes — you’re not a machine.
Otto Look at my position. Here am I, a poor scholar with free lodging, free fuel, peace and quiet, all my bodily needs attended to so that I can get on with my work. Why should I miss Germany?
Imogen But if you had the means, would you not go back? After all, you’re so cut off here, aren’t you? You have no friends — you have only me. And I’m poor enough company.
Otto If I had the means that would be different…. Nothing would stop me if I had the means.
Imogen What do you miss, apart from the mattresses?
Otto (answers immediately in German)
Imogen What does that mean?
Otto … It means whores. Munich whores.
Imogen What do they do that I can’t? Or don’t? Or won’t?
Imogen Well I’m the bloody best whore you’ll get in this part of the bloody Emerald Isle, I’ll tell you that!
Otto No, no. You’re quite wrong. Irish women are in fact remarkably pure and clean…. One knows that such women are not corrupted….
Imogen I’m talking about that snotty-nosed, short-arsed bitch — that non-entity, that prostitute –
Otto You can’t call anybody a non-entity.
Imogen I can call her anything!
Otto Every human being has his or her innate dignity.
Imogen That slut. That dirty bitch.
Otto What are you thinking.
Imogen I was just thinking what a boring summer I’m having. (holds out grains) This is you going to seed. — What is the name of that fellow we met in Dublin? Doonan — or Noonan –
Otto Shannon. Shannon! — You’re so soft. Soft, spineless insect. I can feel you beginning to curl up inside.
Imogen If you leave me now you needn’t come back.
Imogen Can’t you make up your mind?
Otto No.
Imogen Shall I make it up for you?
Imogen You’re not needed here. Don’t come back.
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The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie
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“One’s prime is the moment one is born for.”
1969 - UK
Director
Ronald Neame
Starring
Maggie Smith, Robert Stephens, Celia Johnson, Pamela Franklin, Gordon Jackson
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Jean Brodie is one of the most inscrutable characters committed to film — one moment admirable in her challenge to authority, the next horrifying in her naive, insidious, all-consuming idealism. Jean Brodie is empowered by her belief that she is in her ‘prime,’ the culminating understanding and performance of culture, sex and intelligence. This prime, which she strives to guide her girls toward, confers a special kind of knowledge and power. Jean Brodie carries herself with an aggressive, exaggerated femininity; she is domineering, she is important. This is a woman who knows how to get what she wants.
As a teacher — liked, respected and idolized by her students — she is enormously influential, and she knows it, she feeds on it:
I am in the business of putting old heads on young shoulders… Give me a girl at an impressionable age and she is mine for life.
To a point, her power is awesome for a woman in 1932, and one wants to see that confidence and sense of possibility conferred to a younger generation. Brodie imagines herself a revolutionary in a school desperately ’staying the same to the point of pretrification.’ She prefers to let Goodness, Truth and Beauty be her guide — abstracts she mistakes for absolutes. For her, ‘education is a leading out’ rather than an intrusion; it’s experiential, cultural, personal.
But as her jilted lover Teddy questions her, is she a teacher or a leader? Jean Brodie is not content to show her adoring pupils what they could be; she attempts to mold them into what she believes they ought to be. Believing she and each of her girls share a ’spiritual bond,’ she sizes them up and defines them. They must be glamorous and refined, cultured and heroic. Her position depends completely upon their idolatry and loyalty, and she has it: they will be what she wants them to become.
Having devoted her prime to these girls, Jean Brodie believes she has made an enormous sacrifice. Despite her radicalism she remains committed to propriety and duty; she denies her own needs and desires, projecting her self onto her impressionable girls. “Jenny will be painted many times in years to come,” she decides; “Jenny will be famous for sex.” Jenny will be to Teddy what she cannot, but this is nearly enough for her, so thoroughly has she conflated her identity with that of her students.
If she had pursued her love for Teddy — though it be scandalous — she might have been fulfilled herself. If she had sought to articulate a different view, rather than indoctrinate, her students might have been truly enlightened.
“You will always be Brodie girls,” Jean promises them with real affection, belying the threat and truth in her words. They all are, even Sandy in her ultimate rejection of Brodie, the product of her misled, driving passions.
The film is deeply absorbing, moving easily but unexpectedly between delightful coming-of-age dramedy and palpable psychological horror. There is a combination of naivete and power and unshakable moral righteousness in Brodie that I do find truly, physically horrific. All at once, I’m captivated and repelled by this woman, just as her girls are — and I suppose I feel it all the more strongly as a young female student who has noted her own dangerous predisposition to idolize and emulate teachers.
Maggie Smith cannot possibly be overrated in this film — every movement conveys Brodie’s self-aware and determined performance, every glance burns with Brodie’s consuming and crippling passion. She makes Jean Brodie so immensely likeable that it becomes almost impossible to acknowledge the truly monstrous in her. It ranks with the greatest of all time, in my opinion, and truly has to be seen to be believed.
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Quotations
Jean That is what I am for… to provide you with interests.
Jean I am in the business of putting old heads on young shoulders, and all my pupils are the creme de la creme. Give me a girl at an impressionable age and she is mine for life. You girls are my vocation. If I were to receive a proposal of marriage tomorrow from the Lord Lyon, King of Arms, I would decline it. I am dedicated to you in my prime, and my summer in Italy has convinced me that I am truly in my prime!
Jean Safety does not come first. Goodness, Truth and Beauty come first. One’s prime brings one’s insight into these things.
Jean One’s prime is the moment one is born for.
Jean You little girls must be on the alert to recognize your prime, at whatever time it may occur, and live it to the full.
Jean Please try to do as I say and not as I do. Remember you are a child, and far from your prime.
Jean I am not interested in human imperfection. I am interested in Beauty, in Art, in Truth.
Teddy What do you want me to do? Ravish you on the floor for the edification of your girls?
Jean She thinks to intimidate me by the use of quarter hours!
Jean Color enlivens the spirit, does it not?
Miss McKay Perhaps you’re right but I sometimes wonder if the girls’ spirits need enlivening.
Jean I am the potter and you are my pride. You are shaping up!
Jean You will always be Brodie girls.
Jean One must never succumb to provincial ignorance.
Jean I am a teacher, first, last, always!
Jean Deep in most of us is a potential for greatness, or the potential to inspire greatness.
Teddy You’re not in your prime, Jean. You’re a frustrated spinster taking it out in idiot causes and dangerous ideas.
Jean I believe I am past my prime. I had reckoned on my prime lasting until I was at least 50.
Jean I gave him up to consecrate my life to the young girls in my care.
Sandy I didn’t betray you. I simply put a stop to you.
Sandy You have murdered Mary!
Jean You have assassinated me!
“What I do I do for my Queen.”
1997 - UK
Director
John Madden
Starring
Judi Dench, Billy Connolly, Geoffrey Palmer, Antony Sher
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This film appeals to the part of me sure to be engrossed throughout and brokenhearted ultimately in at least two ways. More obviously, the misunderstood and unconventional relationship. I become increasingly sensitive to the infinite ways in which love manifests itself, while the majority of society sees three well-defined and -differentiated categories. There is no place in most imaginations for a concept such as — let’s call it ‘passionate friendship,’ for loyalty and dependence and trust without the ties of blood or sex, without any evident commonalities of background or belief.
Secondly, I find I have great sympathy for the plight of the monarchy. Like The Lost Prince, Mrs Brown demonstrates the great toll being a national figurehead takes on private relationships and personal happiness — royalty are assumed to be somehow unlike their subjects, and eventually they become something inhuman. Duty, in the end, trumps desire and affinity — it’s a sacrifice I cannot imagine.
And I cannot imagine living with the knowledge that everyone around you owns a piece of you — despite all the power and adoration, having to refer to yourself invariably in the third person. Indeed, one of the most telling exchanges between Victoria and John comes when she finally and unconsciously drops this barrier after he attempts to resign his post:
Victoria The Queen forbids it — I cannot allow it, because I cannot live without you.
Such simple devotion becomes scandalous when every corner of society thinks it has an interest in it: other servants and advisors, slighted by her sudden preference for this ruffian; the royal family, jealous and prideful; parliament and PM Disraeli, sensing a political opportunity; the public, demanding her return to public life. John Brown quickly becomes the only person capable of bringing a smile to her face again, but she cannot seclude herself in the comfort of her estate in Scotland for long.
His obsession with her safety and willingness to sacrifice as much as she has no choice to for her eventually leads to perceived betrayal and separation. Her return to public life stabilizes the monarchy and satisfies the ‘greater good,’ but ensures her numbed isolation and his descent into madness.
It is an absorbing story and a fascinating relationship, each always challenging the other, by its very nature unsteady but grounded by something fundamental and desperate. This is the performance that should have won Judi Dench an Oscar, as she plays the now controlled, now collapsing monarch with sublety and sincerity. Billy Connolly — previously known to me only from the probably terrible (but I remember liking it when I was 8!) family sitcom Head of the Class — also shines as the boisterous and increasingly possessed man who simply lives to serve his Queen. It’s a poignant character study and revealing history lesson masterfully executed by all involved.
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Quotations
Brown (holds up Christmas card; he has it memorized) From the Queen. “My lips may give a message better of Christmas love than even this letter. To my best friend JB, from his best friend VR.” Best friend! She means it!
Victoria In truth, I think I am someone who can only feel thngs when they are alive to me — and for that reason I know I do not have a subtle mind.
Victoria I have noticed of late my feelings of grief are not so strong, and I find myself feeling more — on the comfort of living friends, friends close to me now.
A settled resignation is more lasting proof of affection than active grief. If the good Lord sees fit to bring one into contact with congenial fellow beings, one need not analyze one’s reactions too deeply.
Victoria (after Brown attempts to resign) The Queen forbids it — I cannot allow it, because I cannot live without you. Without you I cannot find the strength to be who I must be. Please — (kisses his hand) — promise me you won’t let them send me back.
Brown (kisses her hand) I promise.
Brown What I do I do for my Queen.
Victoria I know I’ve not always been the loyal friend you deserve, John. And here even now I’m feeling desperate with the thought of losing you.
Brown Don’t be silly, woman.
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About TLC
Films: All reviewed | Favorites
Actors: Profiles | Favorites
Directors: Profiles | Favorites
All films by year
2008 Viewing log
The Woman Accused 1933, Paul Sloane
So Big! 1932, William A Wellman
The Awful Truth 1937, Leo McCarey
Conquest 1937, Clarence Brown
It’s Love I’m After 1937, Archie Mayo
The Mad Miss Manton 1938, Leigh Jason
Algiers 1938, John Cromwell
The Gay Divorcee 1934, Mark Sandrich
All This, & Heaven Too 1940, Anatole Litvak
Mannequin 1937, Frank Borzage
A short digression on Charles Boyer…
Yes, I am endeared. I am, in fact, ensorceled. His inhumanly arched eyebrows, his little winks and half-smiles, and that ability to at once maintain full control of his material while shining the spotlight on his costar: yes, that is talent; yes, this is love. And no, Cluny Brown, it’s not just the cocktails giving you that persian cat feeling… I think we both know too well it has a bit to do with Mr Charles Boyer. Rawr.
Pre-Code Hollywood
» The Woman Accused 1933 Paul Sloane
» So Big! 1932 William A Wellman
» Pre-Code Icons Gallery #1: Barbara Stanwyck
» A Month of Pre-Code Hollywood
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