Tuesday, June 24, 2014

The Scariest Comedy Ever (A)

If you don’t know silent comedy, then maybe you’ve only heard of Charlie Chaplin.  If you took a Film Appreciation course in college, you might also know Buster Keaton.  But when Safety Last was released in 1923, Harold Lloyd was by far a bigger star than either of his better-remembered competitors. 

Lloyd’s masterwork follows a Midwestern rube to bustling Los Angeles.  He promises to send for his naïve fiancée when he makes good.  But he can’t afford married life on the hourly wage of a dry goods clerk.  When his manager offers $1000 to anyone who can dramatically increase the store’s visibility, Lloyd concocts a public event with his roommate, a “human fly” known for scaling skyscrapers.  Only the roommate never quite does his share of the climbing, leaving Lloyd to navigate twelve stories of obstacles without a net.

You're freaking me out, Harold.
I don’t care that the film is more than ninety years old.  I don’t care that the effects are simple tricks of camera placement and composition.  I only know that’s Lloyd’s brand of thrill comedy twisted me in knots.  I could hardly look at the screen as Lloyd scaled the DeVore Department Store – but I certainly couldn’t look away.  I was nearly apoplectic by the time he created one of cinema’s most iconic images, that of the bespectacled everyman dangling from the hands of a clock.  Even the less perilous scenes were tense with comic anticipation.  Gag elements came together, paying off in ways that seldom seemed contrived. 

Crowning the story’s own excellence is a 2013 high-def restoration.  Blu-ray is ideally suited to high contrast stock of the silent era.  But it can also magnify every artifact of dust, hair, wear, and neglect.  If you’ve bought the Criterion re-issue (and why wouldn’t you?), breathe easy; once again, the distributor earns its reputation with a crisp print that justifies its cost.  Buy this one to share with friends.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

The Edge of Not As Bad As It Could Have Been (B+)

Tom Cruise as Bill Cage
in Doug Liman's Edge of Tomorrow
"Not as bad as I expected," seems to be a recurring theme of response to Edge of Tomorrow. Because I don't have money to throw away on intentionally disappointing films, I generally don't buy tickets to movies I expect will be bad (live Rifftrax events being an important exception to the rule).

Based on word of mouth or trusted critics, I decide whether to see a movie (1) in a first-run, 3-D, IMAX theater after a steak, (2) in a $5 second-run house with a box of smuggled Junior Mints, (3) on a scratched DVD borrowed from the library, or (4) interrupted by commercials on broadcast TV. Okay, I employ other nuanced tiers of discernment, but you appreciate the gist of the economic scale.

I paid for three people to watch Edge of Tomorrow in its initial release. No 3-D. No IMAX. I downed an overpriced box of dark chocolate Raisinettes before the previews finished. I watched a man repeat the worst day of his life about fifty times... and I didn't get bored. I saw Tom Cruise play iterations of the same character across a broad spectrum of emotion and thought "okay, he's got some acting chops." I was impressed (but not browbeaten to exhaustion) by character design and FX spectacle. Afterward, I took a family out for burgers and joined in their conversation about time paradoxes, second chances, and the "gamification" of life.

I didn't regret the cost.