Week 11: My Name is Jonah

Before seeing (and ultimately becoming a huge fan of) 2005's Master and Commander: Far Side of the World, I had never heard the term "Jonah" used in the context of sailors and their superstitions. In Master and Commander, one of the younger English officers is branded a "Jonah," which is basically someone who unintentionally curses or brings bad luck to the vessel on which he's sailing. Captain Jack Aubrey's ship goes some time stranded in waters near South America without any rain or wind. The younger officer learns that he's been branded a "Jonah" and eventually sacrifices himself, after which the weather surreptitiously improves. It's one of the weirder, darker sub-plots of that movie.

Mr. Hollom (right) was a Jonah

This project has randomly now given me the only other two examples I am aware of where the film revolves around sailing and where certain characters are branded Jonahs:

• Captains Courageous (Nominated 1937)
• The Sand Pebbles (Nominated 1966)

Captains Courageous is based on a Ruyard Kipling novel and stars Freddie Bartholomew, Spencer Tracy and Lionel Barrymore. Bartholomew plays a spoiled kid who accompanies his father on a lavish trip to Europe but then falls overboard and is rescued by a fishing vessel. Barrymore is the fishing captain, and Tracy is a Portugese fisherman (with a questionable accent) who befriends the boy. Bartholomew's character was once spoiled but soon becomes rugged, yar! Very early in the movie, the boy is branded a stowaway by the other Fisherman and even referred to as, yes, a Jonah.

This movie is watchable and funny at times, and ultimately, it is okay. Having also just recently seen Spencer Tracy in the more-or-less contemporaneous Boys Town (synopsis coming later), it was odd to see him here in a cartoonish, pirate role. In the 1930's, this was probably referred to as versatility. Please watch this clip and enjoy a surreal experience:

The 1937 winner is The Life of Emile Zola, and I haven't seen it yet. Score for Captains Courageous: 6.0.

The Sand Pebbles stars Steve McQueen, Richard Attenborough (RIP - died in 2014), and Candice Bergen. It's about a naval engineer in the 1920's (McQueen as Jake Holman) who is assigned to a gunboat stationed in China's Yangtze River just before the outbreak of the Chinese Civil War.The boat is the USS San Pablo, which its crew has nicknamed "The Sand Pebbles." There are several running plots in this movie, all intertwined with the backdrop of very interesting and infrequently treated (by films) political turmoil. Attenborough falls in love with a Chinese woman, whom he subsequently rescues from a brothel and marries. Holman trains a Chinese man to work with him on the boat's engine, and that does not turn out well for the Chinese man. Holman also has a fleeting romance with an American missionary, played by Bergen. The sailors aboard the San Pablo enjoy their listless and undemanding existence in peace time, but are later forced into some serious combat with Chinese Nationalists, providing for an exciting climax.

Watching this movie was a highly enjoyable and informative experience. The filmmakers went to great lengths to acquaint us with the San Pablo and its inner workings. One of the best scenes (I wish it was on YouTube, sorry) involves Holman teaching a Chinese man the function of all the valves, pipes, and gauges in the engine room. The characters are often caught within the gray areas of the rules of engagement and interpretations of their role as representatives of the U.S. military (sort of like The Hunt for Red October), and this makes for great palace intrigue. 

The Sand Pebbles was my first ever experience with Steve McQueen. His character is, as I've been made aware, a classic McQueen trope: sort of a rebel, but with well-meaning, deep-down intentions. Naturally, he is branded a Jonah quickly upon joining the San Pablo crew and being present at the death of a Chinese man who goes into a treacherous area of the engine to fix something. Weirdly, McQueen did not have great luck in real life, either. He died at the age of 50 from mesothelioma, reportedly brought on by massive asbestos exposure while in the Marines. A very eerie parallel between his real life and the character Jake Holman.

1966 is an interesting Oscar year, and this was my first exposure to it. Other notables include A Man for All Seasons (won) and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (nominated). The Sand Pebbles is very, very, good. I gave it a score of 7.8.

YMTE

My friend Brandon Wetherbee invited me to chat on his podcast, You Me Them Everybody, and we talked about movies, vaguely in the context of the Oscars. Recap: Brandon likes Rain Man, High Noon, Up, and Rocky. I like Norma Rae, West Side Story, and Spirited Away. Brandon gives me a very deserved jab for using this web site for my blog.

The episode can be found here.

YMTE is something that everyone should listen to, generally.

Week 10 (Part 2): Bogart

Let's talk about this guy:

Bogart Bogarting

Specifically, I want to discuss two films that produced probably his most famous roles:

• The Maltese Falcon (Nominated 1941)
• Casablanca (Won 1943)

In The Maltese Falcon, Bogart plays private detective Sam Spade, aka the basis for every other noir detective character, whether ironic or not. There is no Eddie Valiant (Who Framed Roger Rabbit), Jake Gittes (Chinatown), Tracer Bullet (Calvin & Hobbes), Dean Corso (The Ninth Gate), Doc Sportello (Inherent Vice -- OK, this may be a stretch) etc., etc., etc. without Sam Spade. He is written as a shiftless, no-scruples type of guy who somehow manages to stay one step ahead of his rivals, except when he doesn't, and even then, he manages to get out of trouble with little more than a bump on the noggin. The cops are not his friends, but they aren't out to get him either. Women are equal-parts repulsed and drawn to his droopy-eyed, vague-faced attitude.

Oh, and the movie itself is about some people trying to find a statue that, supposedly, is worth upwards of ONE MILLION dollars (in Dr. Evil voice). Allegiances and motives are turned upside down and backwards among a shifty cast of characters, including Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet (both of whom also appeared as cinematic stick figures in Casablanca). But, really, it is not important what happens. All that matters is what Sam Spade says, how he says it, and how cool he is. No, really. I do believe that's what this movie amounts to, and despite being rather one-dimensional, it is pretty good. Here is one of my favorite scenes:

This was my first experience with director John Huston, and other Huston installments will be upcoming throughout this project, e.g. The Treature of the Sierra Madre (also a Bogart vehicle), and Moulin Rouge (1.0). The Maltese Falcon did not win Best Picture in 1941, as that honor went to Mrs. Miniver. 

Score for The Maltese Falcon: 7.5. 

Now, we arrive at a discussion regarding one of the most personally conflicting movies of this project to date. A little movie called... Casablanca. 

This movie is about an exiled American nightclub owner in early 1940's, quasi-occupied Casablanca, Morocco, who has somehow risen to a vague but meaningful level of influence among both authorities and underground figures. That man's name is Rick Blaine, easily Bogart's most famous and historically significant character (although I think Sam Spade is better). Blaine's former lover Ilsa Lund (Ingrid Bergman) arrives in Casablanca with her husband, Victor Laszlo, a leader of the Czech Resistance. To make a longer and more complicated story short: Casablanca is where you need to be if you want to escape occupied Europe, and Blaine has the means for such an escape. He spends most of the film conflicted over (1) his love for Ilsa and (2) his fleeting support of anti-fascist causes, and in the end, he chooses the latter, much to the weepy chagrin of Ilsa. 

This was the first time I'd ever seen Casablanca from start to finish. (Gratuitously extraneous detail: I got to see it while chowing on a four-course, Moroccan-inspired menu, complete with wine pairings, thanks again to the best place in the universe, The Alamo Drafthouse.) This movie makes the very short list of one that I've consistently seen near the top of every "All Time Best" list. I knew all the famous quotes, e.g. "here's lookin' at you," "beautiful friendship," "play it Sam" (not "play it again," nobody ever says that), "of all the gin joints," etc. To say that I came into watching this movie with high expectations would be an understatement. I came into this movie expecting to walk out, with tears in my eyes, wanting to rush back to my seat and demand that it be played again from the beginning. 

But that didn't really happen. 

Don't get me wrong! This is a great film. It is a clinic in writing, and has one of the best closing scenes ever in a movie.  But aside from that scene, and possibly the wonderful flashback sequence showing Blaine's and Ilsa's happier times in Paris, I thought that the movie was rather shiftless. Most of the movie takes place inside the nightclub and consists of boring, explanatory dialogue. The supporting cast is very caricature-ish, especially poor Sam and Renault. Bogart acts like Bogart, which is fun if you've never seen any of his other movies, but don't put Rick Blaine and Sam Spade side-by-side and tell me that Spade is not a far superior character. In the end, Bergman, for me, is probably the acting highlight of the film. She is really wonderful, and I'm looking forward to seeing her in Gaslight.

Is Casablanca very, very good? Yes. Is it among the best movies of all time? Not even close.

I've searched the Net high and wide for cinephiles who share my conflict. There are many. There is one writer in particular who I think summed it up best, and excuse me if I paraphrase, but the gist of his notion was that Casablanca might be more "lovable" than it is actually good. This movie has become a sort of idealized notion of old Hollywood, and I think it gets a lot of breaks for that reason. If there's anything I have learned in this project, it's that not all pre-1950's, black-and-white movies are as boring and dialogue-driven as Casablanca. They don't all need to feature wooden, barely believable romances, either. I think we're allowed to expect a little more of a movie that many say ranks among Citizen Kane, The Godfather, Lawrence of Arabia, etc., as one of the best ever made. 

For the five people reading this, I invite you to disagree with me and tell me why. These views are subjective and inclined towards certain tastes. But I've been watching a lot of movies from a lot of different decades, and simply do not see the basis for universal, outright, adulation. 

Casablanca won Best Picture in 1943, and I have yet to see any of the nine other films that it beat out. But I will probably watch those with an extra careful eye towards comparison. I will give this movie a score fitting of one that is very good, even great, but not nearly an all-time best: 8.4.

Week 10 (Part 1): Norma Rae

The year was 1979. One of the more interesting ones for Best Picture nominees. I've seen winner Kramer vs. Kramer and also-ran Apocalypse Now, and I've always been torn between which one was more deserving. Kramer covers an important topic in an endearing and honest way, and Apocalypse is simply a spellbinding film. It turns out that I was remiss in omitting the year's other nominees from this debate.

Norma Rae is another of 1979's nominees. It is about a small town in North Carolina where most inhabitants are employed or otherwise connected to the non-organized textile industry. One of its most popular employees, the title character played by Sally Field, befriends a visiting, New York-native Union organizer and helps him spearhead the effort to unionize the mill.

This is a brilliant, captivating film that I want to watch again. Sally Field's Oscar-winning (Best Actress) performance is one of my all-time favorites, and Norma Rae is one of the best characters in any movie. Also, her supporting cast manages to bring a folksy liveliness to the film without devolving into caricatures. Beau Bridges is particularly good as Sonny Webster, her eventual love interest. 

It is not important for the purpose of this project to know where I'm from or what my values and beliefs are, but suffice it to say, I do have to admit that this movie spoke to me on a deeply personal level. History is often rewritten to portray unions as greedy and unnecessary. This movie is not a documentary, though, cleverly, much of it is filmed with hand-held cameras, giving it a documentary feel. I think that it honestly portrays the dangers and imbalances that exist where there is no opportunity for collective bargaining among a labor force. Not all of the "management" characters are outright evil and greedy, and not all of the "labor" characters are outright, hapless victims. The characters on both sides are not one-dimensional, but instead motivated by by a combination of personal circumstances, religious beliefs, racial biases, and sometimes idealism. The film shows us the ways in which the corporation preys on these motivations and does just enough to drive a wedge between the pros and the antis. We don't know until, literally, the end of the movie, whether those who would benefit most from the union will even vote to institute it. That right there is edge-of-your-seat drama.

With apologies to Lt. Col. Bill Kilgore, Norma Rae is the best movie of 1979 I've seen so far, and I give it a score of 9.0.

(I wish there were a better selection of scenes from Norma Rae available on YouTube to post here, but unfortunately there are almost none.)

Week 9 (Part 3): Three Musicals

It's beginning to dawn on me just how long this project will take to complete. I'm currently averaging about five movies per week. With roughly 360 movies to go, that means I am looking at over two more years of film watching.

The TCM channel has made things easier this month. They are airing almost non-stop blocks of Oscar-nominated films (not just "Best Picture" nominees, though) for the entire month of February. I've recorded about 25 movies already, and more are coming. That frees up a lot of space on the snail-mail Netflix queue.

Anyway, let's talk about three musicals:

• Funny Girl (Nominated 1968)
• Fiddler on the Roof (Nominated 1971)
• Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (Nominated 1954)

Funny Girl is the film that put Barbara Streisand on the map. She's a real tour de force in this one. It takes place in the Florenz Ziegfield era of Broadway (just prior to World War I). Streisand reprises her Broadway role as Fanny Brice, and she deservedly won the Oscar in 1968 for Best Actress. Unfortunately, aside from Streisand, the movie is just okay. The songs are just okay, the supporting cast is just okay. Omar Sharif is great as Nicky Arnstein, a professional gambler and Fanny's love interest, and I do think there was good chemistry between Sharif and Streisand. However, he can't sing all that well, and his character is written very oddly. The second half of the movie is very strangely melodramatic, and I don't understand the ending (which involves Arnstein turning himself in for a vaguely/not explained history of criminal embezzlement?) at all. 

Omar gettin' fresh with Barb

(Interesting tidbit about Sharif: in addition to playing a professional card player in Funny Girl, he is apparently a great one in real life. He was once one of the world's top-ranked bridge players.)

This is worth watching, but ultimately not even Streisand and my boy Omar could turn it into a truly great film. The 1968 winner was another musical, Oliver!, that I have yet to see. Score: 6.2.

Fiddler on the Roof is a movie with less Hollywood sheen but much better songs. The cast is not high-powered, but it is authentic, starring Topol--of Israeli film and theater fame--in the lead role of the father Tevye. The movie is about a family in a Jewish shtetl of the Russian Empire in the early 20th century, and Tevye's struggles to balance tradition (TRADITION!) with the changing modern attitudes as his daughters approach marrying age. In the shtetl, the Jews live alongside Russian Cossacks. All are leery of one another, and they dance differently, as shown in one of my favorite scenes of the film (and, actually, one of my now-favorite dance numbers in any movie):

This is a good movie, but I think I'd rather see it on stage. John Williams conducts the score, which makes it feel like Star Wars at times, and that is strange. Fiddler on the Roof is nowhere near as good as The French Connection, which won Best Picture in 1971, and so, thus far, 1971 is a year that got it right. Score: 7.0.

Finally, let's take a trip over to Oregon and talk about Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. And I don't mean Portlandia Oregon, I mean "Oregon Trail" Oregon. This is the best of these three musicals, and I actually got to see it in the theater (thanks Alamo Drafthouse a.k.a. best place in the universe). The plot is hilariously simple: seven brothers, the Pontipees, move to Oregon to farm and harvest lumber, and they are all single. In the opening scene, the oldest brother finds a wife, Milly, and brings her home to the ranch, where the other six Pontipee brothers are running amok. Their names are all biblical, A through G, in order of birth. Since there is no male "F" name in the bible, the second-youngest brother is named Frank, which is short for Frankincense. Hysterical! The brothers also wear color-coded shirts throughout the film! This basically preempts the entire premise of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers!

Milly works to civilize them so that they, too, might one day find brides. Later, everyone goes to a barn raising, and the six younger Pontipees compete against random, non-lumberjack townsfolk for the affections of the other girls. It's one of the best dance scenes in any movie:

Later, the Pontipee brothers literally capture the townswomen and take them back to their ranch for the winter. The women slowly fall in love with the six brothers. It's funny, but also eerily toes the line of depicting Stockholm Syndrome. Since it's a musical comedy, I will give it the benefit of the doubt. Overall, the songs and performances are fantastic, and the film is surprisingly funny. 

One bonus for me was seeing a young Russ Tamblyn as Gideon / youngest brother / blue-shirt. He's even younger here than in his later, more famous role in West Side Story. He's a phenomenal dancer and physical actor. Had I not started this project, I might never have appreciated Tamblyn's illustrious, pre-Twin Peaks (Dr. Jacoby) career. 

The 1954 Best Picture winner was On The Waterfront, which I am excited to see, but Seven Brides for Seven Brothers has aged well and is a seldom-discussed classic. Score: 8.6.

Week 9 (Part 2): The Apartment!

The Apartment is perhaps Billy Wilder's most famous film (or is at least tied with Some Like It Hot), and definitely Jack Lemmon's most famous role. Lemmon plays a middling employee of an insurance agency who rents his Manhattan apartment out to senior management for their trysts, in exchange for promotions. On the "way up," (wink) he meets and falls in love with Shirley MacLaine's elevator operator character, who herself is romantically involved with one of the soulless company execs.

It's a wonderfully written movie. The Apartment starts as a playful satire of high-powered womanizing, but then delves headlong into the dire consequences that such callous behavior brings for its victims. These consequences give Lemmon's character the opportunity to step in and be a hero. He's eventually given the choice between the corner office job and retaining his soul (and getting the girl as a result). 

The style of the movie is really something else. As someone watching this movie for the first time in 2015, I have to say that it's remarkable to see just how much the TV show Mad Men owes to Billy Wilder's version of 1950's/60's New York. Interviews with Matthew Weiner confirm that The Apartment was a major influence on the style and themes of Mad Men. I would say it goes beyond being an influence. Mad Men, in my opinion, comes close to being a complete homage to The Apartment. Which is not a bad thing.

A room full of typewriters, overcoats, hats... where is Don Draper?

The Apartment won Best Picture in 1960 over four films that I have not yet seen. I have a feeling it was the right choice. Score: 8.8

Week 9 (Part 1): Deliverance!

Deliverance is John Boorman's genre-bending 1972 film about four businessmen from Atlanta that go canoeing in backwoods Georgia. Starring both Jon Voight and Burt Reynolds, Deliverance blends elements of comedy, horror, adventure and documentary. The result is truly mesmerizing. I've rarely seen a film that is gruesome, transfixing, and uplifting all at the same time.

As the characters go further and further down the river, one can't help but think of themes elucidated in Heart of Darkness (and to a correlative extent Apocalypse Now). After just one night at camp, their city-sheltered naivete is shattered by two mountain men, who proceed to maim, rape and kill the four businessmen ... although not necessarily in that order. They slowly descend from innocent excitement to desperation and near-lunacy.

Reynolds' character is one of the most interesting I've seen in any movie. He's supposedly the most rugged of the four travelers, but as we come to learn, the gap between him and the grizzled natives is only slightly narrower than the other three. If this isn't Burt Reynolds' best role (and despite being a fan of "Archer," I have not yet seen Gator), I don't know what is.

Deliverance works on all levels. There are famous moments that we've all heard of (e.g. the dueling banjos, "squeal like a pig"), that are made more horrifying and bizarre because of the seemingly tranquil, pristine backdrop of the untouched Georgia wilderness against which they take place. And on that note, the film is beautifully shot. The early scenes, in particular, do a great job immersing the viewer in nature, almost like a documentary:

Deliverance did not win Best Picture because it was 1972, and it was up against The Godfather. That's not particularly fair. It's an excellent, unique film that holds up very well. Score: 8.3.

Week 8 (Part 2): High Noon

Let's briefly talk about High Noon, nominated for Best Picture in 1952.

This is a Western (because it has horses), starring Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly. A young Lloyd Bridges also appears as a town deputy. It was directed by Fred Zinnemann, who is probably more famous for later works like From Here to Eternity and A Man for All Seasons. It has a theme song:

Gary Cooper is a lawman in a small town in the New Mexico territory, and his plan is to marry Grace Kelly, a Quaker, and move away to live a quiet life. They're scheduled to leave on the noon train. However, BAD NEWS: some outlaws that Cooper put away have been released and are coming to get their revenge. The townsfolk are split on their feelings toward Cooper, as said bad guys were previously good for the economy. Thus, the moral conundrum of the story, which advances in near real-time. Who is with Gary Cooper? Who will stand up with him and fight the bad guys?

This is a fine Western with emblematic performances by Cooper and Kelly. Cooper's character is truly a folk-hero type of dude, although he is a little too pristine and preachy for my likes. (Compare: Shane, who is almost an anti-hero, and much more interesting that way). It is sad to think that Cooper would only be around for about another 8 years before his death.

The Best Picture winner in 1952 was The Greatest Show on Earth, and all indications are that it's one of the weaker winners, but we will see. 

High Noon gets a 7.1.

Global Recap (February 2, 2015)

It's been about two months since I started this project. Amazingly... I am still doing it!

There are 520 total films in the data set, including the 2014 nominees. Including films seen before the start of the project, I have seen and ranked 156.25 films and have 363.75 left to go. (The decimals are for Shakespeare in Love, where, so far, I have only been able to watch in roughly 30-minute increments before totally losing my will to live.)

Of the 156 movies seen, my average rating is 7.1. The lowest-ranked movie is Love Story (1970) at 3.2, and the highest is L.A. Confidential (1997) at 9.8.

Here is my Top 20 as of February 2, 2015:

Rank	Title	Year	Result	Thoughts	Rating
1	L.A. Confidential	1997	Nominated	By far the best movie of the year and one of my all-time favorites.	9.8
Tie 2	The Godfather	1972	Won	A film that is bigger than film, totally engrossing in every way.	9.7
Tie 2	Fargo	1996	Nominated	One of the most perfect movies. There will never be another "Fargo."	9.7
Tie 4	The Godfather Part II	1974	Won	Like its predecessor, an absolute clinic in filmmaking, though now I find the "modern day" segments harder to sit through.	9.5
Tie 4	There Will Be Blood	2007	Nominated	Despite my Coen's allegience, I still maintain that this was the best film of the year. Sheer brilliance in character development and visual/technical style.	9.5
Tie 6	Shane	1953	Nominated	The best American-directed Western I have ever seen. Cleverly presents familiar Western themes through the child's perspective and explains only as much as necessary. Beautifully shot.	9.4
Tie 6	Lawrence of Arabia	1962	Won	A timeless movie. The scale and artistry are as impressive today as they must have been when released. O'Toole's and Omar Sharif's performances are two of my favorite in any film ever made.	9.4
Tie 8	West Side Story	1961	Won	Wow! Some of the acting was spotty, but the music and choreography is as good as advertised. This is a movie I'll watch over and over again.	9.3
Tie 8	Pulp Fiction	1994	Nominated	This is probably the most important film of the year and one of the most important films of my life. Still highly watchable.	9.3
10	Barry Lyndon	1975	Nominated	To me, this is the most underrated Kubrick film. One of the most carefully crafted movies, visually, I've ever seen. Surprisingly funny, in an underhanded way.	9.2
11	Amadeus	1984	Won	Another one of my favorite films -- gives us interesting period-piece eye and ear candy and funny and multi-dimensional characters.	9.1
12	Apocalypse Now	1979	Nominated	My favorite Vietnam movie, though I prefer the original cut over all "redux" versions.	9.0
Tie 13	Dr. Strangelove	1964	Nominated	The most important film for this year, still as funny today as it ever was.	8.9
Tie 13	The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King	2003	Won	Still the most spectacularly epic film I've seen other than Lawrence of Arabia.	8.9
14	The French Connection	1971	Won	A one-of-a-kind, enduring, brutally honest, nihilistic crime thriller with the best car chase scene ever in a movie.	8.7
Tie 15	Marty	1955	Won	Brilliantly written with original, believable characters.	8.6
Tie 15	Star Wars	1977	Nominated	Seems odd to encapsulte my feelings about "Star Wars" in one sentence, so I will not try.	8.6
Tie 15	Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon	2000	Nominated	Ages gracefully and probably includes the best fight choreography of any movie on this list.	8.6
Tie 15	The Remains of the Day	1993	Nominated	What a year 1993 was. This movie has grown on me over time. I love Anthony Hopkins' character and the shifting period narrative. "Downton Abbey" does not exist without this movie.	8.6
Tie 15	Raiders of the Lost Ark	1981	Nominated	Easily the most important film from this year. Remains the modern action-adventure standard. I love this film.	8.6

(Oops -- My update on Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is coming soon. If you can't tell from above ...... I liked it very much.)

The Google document where I am tabulating data can be found here.

There are no films from 2009 in my Top 20

Week 8 (Part 1): America(n) Hustle[r]

I've learned in this project that Best Picture nominees in the 1960's were somewhat dominated by in-depth, deeply masculine, single-character studies. Lawrence of Arabia (and its treatment of the titular T.E. Lawrence) is the most obvious example, but here are two others:

• America, America (Nominated 1963)
• The Hustler (Nominated 1961)

America, America is a three-hour epic about a young Greek boy who flees oppression in Turkish Anatolia in the late 19th century. His goal is to eventually reach the United States and send back for his family. It is based on the book of the same title by Elia Kazan, who also directed several much more well known movies, such as A Streetcar Named Desire, On the Waterfront, and Gentleman's Agreement. I found it to be educational on the rarely covered topic of the Hamidian massacres, and a very impressive performance by the main lead, Stathis Giallelis, who was basically never heard from again. The film is strongest in its final act, when the main character, Stavros, finally finds passage on a ship to the United States (in "third class") and develops a bond with a young Armenian who eventually makes a sacrifice in order for Stavros to secure admission to Ellis Island. 

America, America - Stavros comforts his friend

The film is beautifully shot, partly on location in Greece and Turkey. On the downside, it was much longer and more sprawling than necessary. The story is partially Barry Lyndon (never quite finding one's place among higher society) and partially The Godfather Part II (leaving a violent situation to reinvent oneself in the U.S.), but I'm not sure if those two things married here as harmoniously as they could have. It smacks of  being intensely personal to Kazan, and so I suspect that made it harder to edit down.

It's a fine film, though it didn't really stand any real chance to win Best Picture against the incredible and timeless West Side Story in 1961. I gave America, America a 6.1.

Our next film is The Hustler, which features one of Paul Newman's most famous roles. He plays a pool shark named "Fast" Eddie Felson, who follows the familiar, masculine trope of being both immensely talented and deeply flawed/self-destructive. For a movie about pool, it takes a surprisingly dark turn in the third act when Felson's love interest is driven to suicide. Only after that (for some reason) does Felson have the wherewithal to beat his arch-nemesis Minnesota Fats in a rematch of many, many, many hours of Nine Ball. Newman and Piper Laurie are great in the starring roles, and Jackie Gleason absolutely dominates his limited screen time as Minnesota Fats. Not to be outdone, George C. Scott works very well as the ruthless and manipulating professional gambler who bankrolls Felson for part of the film.

The movie would be too overly melodramatic if not for its utterly captivating treatment and depiction of the game of billiards. Unlike other games/sports, there really hasn't been any other notable movie since The Hustler (and The Color of Money does not count) to try covering the same subject. That says something.

Movies about bar games, and that star Paul Newman and Jackie Gleason, are immensely rewatchable. Tom Jones was the 1963 Best Picture winner, and I'll be interested to see if it's better. I gave The Hustler a score of 8.2.