Showing posts with label Rodgers and Hammerstein. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rodgers and Hammerstein. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

My Top Ten Movies of the '60s

A grand decade for Disney, the 1960s included some of my all-time favorite movies, as well as a lot of flicks that are highly watchable once, with limited replay value.  All of my top ten are ones I'd be happy to sit through multiple times.  And have.

Peter Pan (1960)
- Though I'm not a fan of the Disney version of the J. M. Barrie classic about a boy who stays forever young on a magical isle called Never-Neverland, I love this version, a television adaptation of the musical starring Mary Martin. She is endearingly spunky, and I never seem to mind much that she's a girl. Perhaps that softens Peter's bravado; even when he's bragging up a storm with I Gotta Crow, I don't find him nearly as obnoxious as the animated Disney imp. I love the songs throughout the film, and the performance of Cyril Ritchard as sinister but silly Captain Hook / ineffective Mr. Darling is the most entertaining aspect of the whole movie.

Swiss Family Robinson (1960) - Two words: ostrich races. Not to mention the treehouse of my dreams and what may have been the beginning of my love affair with stories about folks shipwrecked on seemingly uninhabited islands.

The Sword in the Stone (1963) -
I can trace my love of King Arthur back to this Disney cartoon, in which he is a scrawny kid known as "the Wart" living under the thumb of his corpulent uncle and brutish cousin. Merlin serves as a wise but comical mentor, with some help from the requisite animal sidekick, Archimedes, who bears a strong resemblance to the owl from Bambi. Sticking with the fairly light-hearted portion of T. H. White's The Once and Future King, heightening the slapstick and doing a lot of simplifying, it's among the funniest animated Disney films, even if it was less successful than most.

Mary Poppins (1964) - A real contender for my all-time favorite movie. The songs showcase the Sherman Brothers at their best, from peppy classics like Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious to my personal favorite, the compassionate, religiously loaded Feed the Birds. The cast is wonderful, especially Julie Andrews as eccentric but exceptional Mary and Dick Van Dyke as irrepressibly jolly Bert. An engrossing tale of magic, imagination and parents and children coming to appreciate each other, it's also the movie that made me fall in love with London.

Cinderella (1965) - I've seen many versions of this story, but this television adaptation of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, starring Leslie Anne Warren, will always be my favorite. She makes such a perfect Cinderella, sweet and starry-eyed, dutifully doing her chores amid abuses by her absurd step-mother and step-sisters but taking time to imagine better things. The prince is dreamy, with loads more personality than the Disney version, and Cinderella's step-family is hilarious. The step-sisters even evoke some sympathy, as the lady of the house is scarcely any kinder to her own daughters. It's all very low-frills, with scarcely any props at all, but the story and the fantastic songs more than make up for it. This is my second-favorite Rodgers and Hammerstein musical.

The Sound of Music (1965) - This, naturally, tops the list. Rodgers and Hammerstein's crowning achievement, it's another movie starring Julie Andrews as an unusual nanny who swoops in to repair a family with unruly children and a distant father. But in this case, she plays an aspiring nun who hadn't bargained on falling in love with the dashing captain so excellently portrayed by Christopher Plummer. The sweeping cinematography, the iconic songs, the historical backdrop, the religious overtones, the humor, the romance... It all blends perfectly for a movie I can watch over and over again with rapt enjoyment.

The Russians are Coming, the Russians are Coming (1966) - Quite possibly the funniest movie of the decade. Of course, by the time I saw this, Russians no longer seems a great threat, so I never had much reason to see Alan Arkin's merry band of accidental invaders as antagonists. I just reveled in the relentless slapstick and silly one-liners. But I've also come to think of it as an inspiring tale underneath all that comedy, one that dares to hope that people who are supposedly enemies can be united by a common goal and can overcome suspicions to form unlikely friendships.

The Graduate (1967) -
It took a couple of viewings for me to really appreciate this movie, which stars a hilariously awkward Dustin Hoffman as confused young college graduate Benjamin, who is lured into an affair with the wife of a family friend. But now that I've been in Benjamin's shoes - as an aimless college grad, that is, not someone who channeled that aimlessness in such an unhealthy direction - the film seems very apt. And what kind of Simon and Garfunkel fan would I be if I left this off the list?

The Jungle Book (1967) -
Another triumph for the Sherman Brothers, this story of a boy raised by wolves features an intriguing array of creatures, each with a distinct personality. No-nonsense panther Bagheera, sibilant snake Kaa, haughty elephant Colonel Hathi, lackadaisical bear Baloo, ambitious orangutan King Louie, sinister tiger Shere Khan and a hapless quartet of vultures all make an impact on Mowgli's journey. With the exception of the cats, they all have a song, too, each in a different style. Kaa has a hypnotic lullaby, Hathi a crisp march, Louie a jazzy scatfest, the vultures a Beatles-esque harmonious ode. Baloo, of course, gets one of the bounciest numbers in Disney history. A simple story magnificently told, with lush animation every step of the way.

The Love Bug (1969) -
I just love WV bugs, and this is why. Herbie, the little white beetle with the number 53 on his side, is more lovable than any car ought to be. He doesn't talk; he simply uses a series of mechanical noises to communicate emotion, and he maintains control over his own steering. This is the first of his adventures. Though Dean Jones, David Tomlinson and especially Buddy Hackett make terrific co-stars, this little automobile is clearly the star.

My Top Ten Movies of the '50s

I watch a lot of movies, but my list of movies that came out before the '60s is fairly short.  One of these days I need to expand my familiarity with '50s cinema, but as of now, these are my ten favorites of the decade.

Harvey (1950) - I first heard of this movie because I was curious about the origin of the name of my aunt's cat, Chumley. She explained that he was a character from this film, and that she'd also had a cat named Elwood. That's the character Jimmy Stewart plays, a mild-mannered bachelor who scandalizes his socialite sister by hanging around in bars and consorting with a six-foot-tall rabbit no one else can see. Very funny and, in its way, extremely wise.

Hans Christian Andersen (1952) - We rented this when The Little Mermaid came out in theaters. I assume that this was to give my brother and me some background on the man who wrote this story that had so enchanted us. The story of the mermaid who longs to be human is only one of many Andersen tales referenced in this delightful musical biopic. Thumbellina and The Ugly Duckling are other standouts, all magnificently told by the vivacious Danny Kaye.

Lady and the Tramp (1955) -
One of Disney's most romantic movies, despite the fact that the main characters are dogs. More than just about any animated Disney film up to this point, there's ample time taken to develop their individual personalities and let their romance unfold gradually. A high-class dame and a scallywag make a go of it, once he's demonstrated that he's not such a scoundrel after all. That candlelit spaghetti dinner stands as one of the most romantic scenes in any film, animated or not.

Oklahoma! (1955) - I was in high school before I got into this one. I'd seen it once but hadn't been that impressed. Then I heard it was to be the spring musical my junior year. Soon I was well acquainted with it, and my classmates' production, particularly one friend's tour de force performance as overbearing Ado Annie, won me over to the musical completely. It's hardly my favorite Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, but it has some wonderful moments, including the auction and anything involving Ado Annie or Ali Hakim.

Carousel (1956) -
I didn't know a thing about this musical until I saw the play, starring my future acting teacher's wife, my freshman year of high school, at which point I became completely obsessed with it. Though the movie doesn't quite capture the play's magnificence, in part because of a strange framing device that takes away the element of surprise, it's one of Rodgers and Hammerstein's most thought-provoking efforts. The songs range from comical to inspiring, with You'll Never Walk Alone transcending the musical to attain its own iconic status.

The Court Jester (1956) -
Danny Kaye again, in one of his silliest and most entertaining roles. He was such a wonderful performer, and he pulls out everything in his arsenal here. A master of slapstick, he was ideally suited to play a jester, but it's the verbal acrobatics that really stick with me. "The vessel with the pestle holds the pellet with the poison. The flagon with the dragon holds the brew that is true." Try saying that ten times fast!

The King and I (1956) -
Yes, it was a good decade for Rodgers and Hammerstein. This, too, has a high school connection, as my acting teacher, his wife and their two children starred in a local production of it. But I'd loved the musical long before that and in particular the performance of Yul Brynner as the imperious king whose bark is generally worse than his bite. Though certain elements of this culture clash saga paint him in an antagonistic light, he is my favorite character, a man who, much like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof, struggles to reconcile centuries of tradition with a world clearly changing around him.

The Red Balloon (1956) -
Short, sweet, sad. This nearly-wordless French film depicts one glorious day in which a boy befriends a balloon and roves through town with it, reveling in the spirit of adventure but never far from hostile forces. A gentle fantasy whose tragic elements cannot overpower its ability to uplift. "No one can be un-cheered by a balloon," postulates Pooh; this film may prove that he is correct.

Old Yeller (1957) -
Now, if you really want depressing, this is the movie for you. Most of its cast would go on to star in Swiss Family Robinson, which features several exotic creatures, none of which end up with rabies. It's a fate not to be wished on any dog, especially one so faithful as Yeller. This classic with the deceptively cheerful theme song is the quintessential Boy Meets Pet-Boy and Pet Have Adventures-Boy Kills Pet tale, so if you like weepy animal stories, you can't consider your repertoire complete until you've seen it.

The Shaggy Dog (1959) -
If you'd rather have the animals without the tragedy, Disney proves itself equally adept with live-action comedy. Tommy Kirk from Old Yeller returns for this goofy tale of a teen with the unhappy habit of transforming into an enormous English Sheepdog. There's a reason for this, of course, and the aim is to ultimately get his normal life back. It all ends very happily - but not happily enough to prevent a couple of equally silly sequels.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

10 Films Alive With the Sound of Music

These aren't strictly musicals, which I certainly could write and about and probably will, but rather ten of my favorite movies in which music plays some sort of integral part...

The Sound of Music - Okay, this one is a musical, but I couldn't list movies about music and not include The Sound of Music. Music is everywhere in this film, starting with the title. It's a celebration of the music of nature, the solemn chanting of nuns in the abbey, Maria's exuberant outbursts, her singing lessons that are so integral in bringing together a fractured family. It's my favorite musical and possibly my favorite movie.

Mr. Holland's Opus - An uplifting film about the joys and sacrifices involved in being a truly dedicated teacher. Mr. Holland - as fantastically portrayed by Richard Dreyfuss - goes from ambitious young composer to defeated retiree, forced to leave the job in which he invested so much time and energy, instilling in decades' worth of students a passion for music. Yet before he goes, he is able to receive the gift of a powerful, tangible representation of his accomplishments. A very moving tribute to exceptional teachers and a testament to the importance of the arts in education.

I Am Sam - This story of a man with limited mental capacities struggling to raise the young daughter he cherishes is notable for many reasons, one of which is the soundtrack consisting entirely of covers of Beatles songs. A great source of comfort to Sam, who named his daughter after the song Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, their music is rich with meaning, and the new but faithful interpretations skillfully underline the significance of many crucial scenes.

Forrest Gump - Another story about a simple man trying to make good in the world. Forrest is much more independent than Sam, but he has a way of being swept up in events of far-spread significance of which he has little idea. Music is used in the film to accentuate each step in Forrest's journey, which usually coincides with a notable moment in American history. It is more notable as a narrative device than as directly involving Forrest, but there are several notable music-related moments, him teaching Elvis his hip thrusts, watching Jenny sing and play guitar on stage and joining John Lennon for a talk show interview among them.

Sister Act - A movie about the power of music to uplift and to change lives when performed in the proper spirit. Whoopi Goldberg is very entertaining as a lounge singer who goes into hiding in a convent after witnessing a murder, and the feeble attempts of the choir of nuns to provide stirring anthems on Sundays are hilarious. But once the newly dubbed Sister Mary Clarence puts her talents to work by whipping the sisters into proper singing shape, the film becomes more than comedy. The music becomes a regenerative force amongst the nuns and in their troubled neighborhood, and their performances - particularly the last one before a toe-tapping Pope - are downright inspirational.

Blues Brothers - This riotous movie is packed with cameos of famous singers from Aretha Franklin to Ray Charles, and each has his or her time in the spotlight while kind-hearted criminals Jake and Elwood make their increasingly disastrous way to the concert where they will perform as the Blues Brothers, thereby earning the money needed to keep the Catholic orphanage where they grew up alive. The film's loaded with fantastic performances, but my hands-down favorite is the band's impromptu rendition of the Rawhide theme song, complete with a real whip.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home - Okay, so it's definitely not the sort of music you sing along to. But this movie is very much about whalesong, which is haunting but beautiful in its own way. It's a madcap adventure, but a crucial one, recovering these majestic creatures hunted to extinction so that they can sing their song to the probe seeking communication with them and in so doing save the world.

Fantasia - A Disney masterpiece with carefully choreographed animation matched up with the works of great composers to bring modern audiences a new appreciation for classical music. Each piece is accompanied by a short film whose contents accentuate the different moods and themes of the music in beautiful ways. A feast for the eyes and ears accomplished again when several more pieces were undertaken for Fantasia 2000.

Sense and Sensibility - I can't quite decide which film owes a greater debt to the pianoforte, this or the BBC mini-series of Pride and Prejudice. Both feature the instrument prominently, but I think perhaps Sense and Sensibility has the edge, since it is while she is playing this instrument that Marianne is first seen by Colonel Brandon, and when he eventually buys her one and she plays the music he sends her, that is the physical embodiment of her changed feelings for him.

The Lord of the Rings - There aren't nearly as many songs in the movies as in the books, but I appreciate that Jackson made a real effort to integrate Tolkien's love of the lyrical into the films, particularly in the extended editions. We get rowdy hobbit drinking songs, ethereal elf chants, aching human litanies of mourning... The snippets we hear are lovely, and the moment in Return of the King in which Pippin turns a benign old walking song into a haunting elegy is one of the most startling and profound in the trilogy.

An incomplete list, as always, but there are all movies that make my living room alive with the sound of music...

Thursday, February 12, 2004

For My 500th Review, Here is One of My Favorite Things

Climb ev’ry mountain, ford ev’ry stream… The Mother Abbess’ inspiring words ring in my ears as I compose this, my 500th review for Epinions. Actually, I guess I technically hit that mark a few reviews back, since I’ve deleted a couple of really bad ones and written a couple on products I later realized were no longer in production. But for the sake of ceremony, I’ll look on this as the culmination of a journey, and a vantage point from which to view my next course. What better day to celebrate than my 23rd birthday, and what better way than by reviewing my favorite musical – and a top contender for favorite movie – of all time?

The Sound of Music is one of those movies whose appearance in my life I cannot trace. It’s been there further back than I can remember. I still recall listening to the soundtrack on vinyl when I was a toddler and opening my mom’s Swiss Chalet jewelry box every time I entered the room to hear the tinkly strains of The Lonely Goatherd. Several years later, I read Maria’s autobiography, of which the events of this movie were only a small part, and watched awestruck and a wee bit jealous as my fellow students at Mercyhurst Preparatory School performed the play to perfection. Last year, I attended a Sound of Music Sing-Along dressed in Maria style, belting out all those old familiar favorites and enduring the wisecracks of the woman seated behind us in response to what was happening on the screen. I love musicals, period. But none quite as much as I love this one.

The story is a familiar one to most, the image of Maria running across the hills with outstretched arms an allusion that has made its way into films as diverse as The Pink Panther Strikes Again and The Sixth Sense. Julie Andrews brings an irrepressible spirit, an unmatchable joie de vivre, to this character who is both very similar to and very different from her title role in Mary Poppins, another of my favorite films. Like Mary, she comes into a home where good-hearted children are behaving destructively due to a dysfunctional relationship with their father. Like Mary, she uses her creative energies to win the children’s affections and helps them to bridge the gap that has grown between them and their father. While Maria has as much spunk as Miss Poppins, it gets her into trouble sometimes. In spite of her attempts to psyche herself up to the point of jubilantly declaring I Have Confidence, she lacks Mary’s cool self-assuredness. In spite of her general cheery demeanor, she is, by turns, unnerved, ashamed, apologetic, flustered… She displays all the extremes of passion that Mary so carefully keeps in check, and we love her all the more for it. She also lacks Mary’s vanity and self-interest. Maria is never hot on herself, and she couldn’t care less about wearing a dress so ugly it couldn’t even be given away to the poor. As an earnest nun in training, her first thought is usually a desire to do what God intends her to do. While I love Andrews in both films, Maria easily wins as my favorite character. In fact, she is my favorite female character in all of cinema, the one I most identify with and aspire to.

Christopher Plummer provides a perfect complement to this character in his portrayal of Captain Georg Von Trapp, a man who uses sternness as a salve for wounds he wishes to forget. In spite of his icy presence towards the beginning of the film, it is easy to see that he has a latent warmth that only needs a catalyst to melt the barriers he’s placed between himself and his children. His dry wit is an especially enjoyable aspect of his character, especially in scenes where it counterbalances Maria’s more clumsy passion. When the chemistry of this initial rivalry yields itself to affection, Plummer brings heart-breaking tenderness to the role. The depth of emotion conveyed through his eyes is remarkable, particularly in that climactic moment just before he declares his love for his young governess.

Everyone in the cast does a fine job. Peggy Wood’s Mother Abbess is wise and matronly, the gentlest and most authoritative figure in the film. Capping a successful film career, Eleanor Parker brings just the right degree of cold elegance to the Baroness, a rather villainous but not entirely unsympathetic figure. Much more likable is Richard Haydn as Max Detweiler, a shrewd businessman and close friend of the Captain whose fun-loving personality makes him a favorite of the Von Trapp children. His comedic delivery provides a nice contrast to the chilly and dull Baroness who appears in most of his scenes. The seven children, Charmian Carr (Liesl), Heather Menzies (Louisa), Nicholas Hammond (Friedrich), Duane Chase (Kurt), Angela Cartwright (Brigitta), Debbie Turner (Marta), and Kym Karath (Gretl), work wonderfully together, bringing a mixture of mischief and sweetness to Maria’s charges.

A large part of Sound of Music’s enduring popularity is, of course, the music. This is Rodgers and Hammerstein’s crowning achievement, and there’s not a song here I find tedious or unnecessary. From the exuberant title song and the educational Do Re Mi to the heartening My Favorite Things and the clever So Long, Farewell, the songs in this film are among the most beloved in cinematic history. And Eidelweiss, the last song Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote together, has such a level of authenticity about it that most people believe it actually is an Austrian folk song predating the events of the movie.

At its core, Sound of Music is a film about love. Last year, my favorite local radio station asked listeners to call in with their favorite romantic movie of all time, and I told my brother, much to his disgust, that Sound of Music got my vote. The gradual development of Maria and Captain Von Trapp’s mutual affection, standing in contrast to the puppy love of Liesl and Rowlf and the Captain’s chilly engagement to the socially compatible Baroness, is thoroughly satisfying. The Captain’s uncharacteristic stumbling as he tries to verbalize his feelings to Maria is most endearing, and the moment she realizes beyond a shadow of a doubt that her love is not one-sided is always a thrill.

But entwined with this are many other types of love. The love of life, which Maria embodies. Of music, which she passes on to the children and which, in real life, led to the formation of a successful family act, whose fame allowed Maria to publish the autobiography which inspired the musical. (The real departure from Austria was far less dramatic, incidentally; after refusing a couple invitations from Hitler to sing for him, the family thought it wise to leave the country.) Of nature, to which the film’s sweeping cinematography alludes. Of family, which Maria helps the Captain to reclaim. He falls in love with her largely through her love of his children. Of God, which is so strong in Maria that she wants to spend her life as a nun. But her faith allows perceive that she can do God’s will outside of the cloistered Abbey walls, and that God will protect her family as they flee from peril. And, of course, love of country, which moves from subplot into the foreground after the wedding, which would seem a logical stopping place. But the rumors and whispers overshadowed by the romance find culmination in the film’s final scenes, and all the other threads come together to help our protagonists combat the evil that confronts them.

There are few movies with the enduring power of Sound of Music. It’s a film everyone ought to see at some time or another. I’ve seen it many times, and I can only go so long before the urge strikes me to watch it yet again; I think I’m coming up on that time now. Watch it and treasure it. I dare you to be unmoved.