The Fat One

The fat one. That’s what I called him. Not an insult, far from it. It was a term of endearment, because I loved the fat one. More then the mean, bald one, that’s for sure. I couldn’t remember who was who so the guys on that movie show I liked were the fat one and the bald one. And that’s how; at age 10 or so, I came to know Siskel and Ebert and through them I came to know movies. How to watch em and how to talk about em. Which ones were good and which ones sucked. What made a Marty movie a Marty movie and a Carpenter picture a Carpenter picture. (It’s all in the lighting.) And Ohhhh the brilliant simplicity thumbs up or thumbs down. The binary rating that answered the most fundamental question all theatergoers must ask; is this film worth seeing? I’m a little late to the Ebert tribute party that’s been raging all over the web since his death (I was on the road for work) so I feel like I’m repeating what everyone has already said but say it again I must. My love of film, my discovery of the good stuff, and now, on this blog, the way I write about movies, all came from Mr. Ebert. I’m old enough and cynical enough to no longer get bent out of shape over celebrity deaths but this one hit me hard. (That said, when Bob Dylan final kicks it, don’t call or knock at my door for at least a week. I’ll be in seclusion in the east wing, listening to “Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” on repeat.) Why did I react so strongly to Ebert’s passing? He was sick forever, it’s not like we didn’t see this coming. The wife hit it, I think, when she said for me, Ebert was a long distance mentor. It’s true. Not only do I read him constantly, I quote him just as much. I not only do I continue to learn about film from him, I continue to learn how to write from him. I identified with him on a deeply personal level. He, like I, grew up in the suburbs (he of Chicago, me of New York) and as a young boy Ebert knew in his bones that when he grew up he would live and work in the big city. I know this longing; I lived it and like Ebert, I found a way to live my dream. The pride Ebert had for Chicago and all he encounter there came though in everything he did. In his books and on his blog he wrote about walking down a neighborhood street, talking to a barfly at the corner pub, and going to see a film in the big, old movie houses as romantic experiences. This is what I feel for my town and I wish I could express it a tenth as well as Ebert did. Then there was his marriage, a bond to be admired by anyone who shares their life with another. I only hope if anything happens to my wife that I could be as strong for her as Chaz was for Roger. But I think most of all, what saddens me is there will be no new work, and man o man did the man work, right up to the end. It’s all been said and the home page at Rogerebert.com says it best, “Roger Ebert loved movies. Except for those he hated.”

Snap-review: Skyfall

Saw Skyfall (2012) this morning but first a quick programing note. I will not being doing my full on Blog James Blog break down of Bond 23 until it’s release on home video. The reasons are two; first, when doing my full posts I watch the films at least twice and then re-watch scenes, DVD extras and even get into commentaries in order to make damn sure I get the drink orders right and I know exactly how many baddies were in that jeep Bond sent over the cliff. Needless to say, that’s a little difficult to do sitting in my local multiplex. The second and more important reason is that my normal write-ups by their very nature and design are chock full of spoilers. They are written with the assumption that those reading them have seen the film at some point in their lives and have a passing knowledge of what goes down. Not so with a movie released less then 48 hours ago so I will avoid the typical Blog James Blog fine tooth combing of “what it all means … man.” This “Snap-review” will be written in the traditional style of a review; which is to say it is meant to let readers know if this film is something they should spend their $15 on. So, here is the short, down and dirty, “Snap-review” of Skyfall. The full on treatment and martini glass rating will appear down the road. Enjoy.

Thank you. Thank you to EON for getting this one right. Quantum of Solace (2008) can now be stricken from the record and called what it truly is, a poor man’s Bourne film. Sorry, the truth hurts. Skyfall on the other hand achieves a miracle in quantum physics in that it is both a classic and modern Bond film that occupies the same screen space at precisely the same time. In Craig’s third turn we have his best Bond performance by leaps and bounds as well as a top 5 out of all 23 Bond films. As we left the theater, the wife said it was her favorite and the first where she, as a woman, didn’t feel pandered to. Not bad for a fifty year-old dude in 2012. In the hands of Sam Mendes, the first Oscar winner to helm a Bond film, the series once again becomes a leader and not a follower; a more self-assured 007 film has not been seen since that Aussie dude wore a kilt. Indeed, On Her Majesty’s Secrete Service (1969) very well may be this films closest cousin in the Bond canon. With Skyfall, we get a story that has emotional resonance and connects us to Bond as a person, and by extension the world he inhabits, in ways which we have not been since Bond wept for his murdered bride. The film was shot by long time Coen brothers DP Roger Deakins who delivers the best looking and most cinematic Bond film in memory. A mid-film action sequence in the glass towers of Shanghai enters the realm of the surreal, a visual element that further permeates Skyfall when we visit an abandon, bombed out island and hits a final crescendo in a fog filled climax that allows the pictures to tell more then the words. Which brings us to the script, penned by John Logan who, as the AV Club recently pointed out, writes everything these days (and along with Daniel Craig has signed on for at least two more 007 pictures). One of the lazy clichés when it comes to Bond films is the “talking villain,” the bad guy who tells Bond his evil, world-dominating scheme over dinner. Here, Javier Bardem’s entrance as the grinning baddie Silva, around the halfway mark of the film, is indeed accompanied by a breakdown of his entire game plan. A game plan that notably is not one of clocks counting down to the end of the world or of conquering empires, but of personal and laser like focused revenge. But the explaining and yes, exposition, doesn’t feel forced. It’s all in the writing and acting. Ignore those reviews that don’t praise Javier’s Silva as a wonderful and a classic Bond villain; all detractors be damned. Back to the writing, at the end of his speech, Silva challenges Bond loyalties. A lesser film would have written Bond an on the noise retort. Here, Craig is given the trust to deliver his answer to both the baddie and the audience with his eyes. He succeeds. This is a modern film firing on all cylinders that works because the look and feel is firmly rooted in the cinematic language of the past. Add in the opening sequence that is rightly already being celebrated, the return of Q and the Goldfinger (1964) Aston Martin, a classic voice in the Adele theme, and on and on and the movie takes things we love about Bond (A thug gets eaten by a deadly animal! The villain lives on his own island!) and places it all firmly in the 21^st century. Even for all it’s rightfully deserved praise in reinventing Bond, Casino Royale (2006) regrettably shed some of the soul and messy guts that make Bond Bond. Here, those elements are not only reintroduced, they serve as a happy reminder of why Bond films work and have worked for so long. Lets just say I found myself smiling ear-to-ear more then half a dozen times during Skyfall and most Bond fans will experience the same. If you care a lick about Bond, go see this film now and bring a friend. Afterward, you will want to discuss it with someone over a Heineken or a martini. They both get the job done, no point arguing over which is better.

Happy Birthday Mr. Bond

Just a quick public service announcement to call attention to some of the all kinds of 50th anniversary madness happening, including an excellent cover article in this months Vanity Fair (after last month had an amazing Fleming/Dr. No piece) and Craig hosting SNL this weekend. For those not in the know, tomorrow is officially James Bond Day and I think everyone should do a little something to celebrate. For inspiration, check out Not Exactly Ready for one long time Blog, James Blog friends plans. Have a great weekend everyone.

James Blog Will Return

And with our latest posting breaking down the most recent Bond film, it would appear we have done what we set out to do. But no, like Jimmy B we will live to die another day. Not only because there is more to be done, but because this silly little idea turned out to be so much fun. I truly love working on these things and I’m not ready to throw in towel. Indeed, it took me quite sometime to post Quantum of Solace (2008) mostly because the movie was, as the great Iggy Pop once sang “no fun, my baby, no fun.” But I also sat on it for a while because I didn’t what Blog, James Blog to end. And now I know it doesn’t have to. Yes, we have some 50^th anniversary stuff coming up plus Bond 23 but in the meantime there are other fish to fry. Going forward I’m going to give the two “unofficial” Bond pictures the James Blog treatment. First, we’re going to tackle Connery’s seventh Bond film, Never Say Never Again (1983). Then we will dive into the acid tinted, rainbow colored waters of Casino Royale (1967). A quick programing note, to differentiate Peter Sellers Bond turn from Daniel Craig’s 2006 007 adventure of the same name, from this moment forward Casino Royale (1967) will be referred to as Casino Royale (with cheese). Then? Well, any suggestion would be good. We could rank the Bond actors (always a good time and a fantastic way to piss of the Moore haters). We could look at Bond related/influenced films (The Matt Helm movies, The Borne series, Pretty Woman (1990)). We could talk to an empty chair and pretend we’re interviewing Ian Fleming; sky’s the limit really (until it falls of course.) So much more to come, especially since it was just announced Mr. Craig signed on for two more Bond pictures. (Moore approves!) Even more, if we are to believe the Skyfall (2012) trailer then Craig and Bond are returning to form. The 23^rd Bond film looks to be a classic featuring a baddie who talks up our hero over some fatha beans nice chianti. Even if that is 10% true Craig’s next go around is already three times as good as Quantum. Thanks for you support and keep checking back for more Bond stuff.

Bond Save the Queen

What a show! This weekend, after 17 spectacular days of sport, London will take a much-deserved bow. In a good old fashion F-you to pre-game poop-pooping by small-minded twits like Mitt Romney, The Games of the Thirtieth Olympiad will be remembered along with the 1992 Barcelona and the 2000 Sydney Games as an Olympics for the ages. And just like both of those aforementioned summer games, the host city, London, was a major reason why these 2012 games were such a success. Light on controversy (badminton not withstanding) these games focused on what the games should, the athletes and the competition, as jolly olde England proved it could host a world-class event in one of the world’s greatest cities. My hats off to everyone involved, including the great Danny Boyle for his extraordinary opening ceremonies. The director put himself on the record saying he wanted to make the “First ever live movie” and by my eyes he succeeded. Yes, at moments the stadium looked like Hobbiton but the good far outweighed the bad. If you told me three weeks ago that The Sex Pistols and The Clash would be part of the soundtrack for the Olympic opening ceremony, I would have told you to bugger off. These ceremonies had it all; we laughed (Rowan Atkinson!), we cried (The future athletes lighting the torch!), it was better then Beijing, a communist spectacle with a cast of thousands in lockstep that no one thought could be topped. And right smack dab in the middle, celebrating his 50^th birthday, was Brittan’s greatest hero since Churchill (who also had a cameo), who along with the newest Bond girl stole the show.  Full disclosure, I knew beforehand that Craig, as Bond, would be involved in the opening ceremonies, I just had no idea how. So I was not at all surprised to see everyone’s favorite tux sporting spy entering Buckingham Palace. When 007 took up his post behind a person, clearly meant to be the queen, sitting at a desk with her back to both Bond and the camera, I must admit my heart began to sink. I flashed back instantly to the very last sequence in For Your Eyes Only (1981) where Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, played by Janet Brown, shuffled around her kitchen while croaking horrid lines. Jesus, were they going to get some old actress to turn to the camera, giggle, and give us an “Ohhh James!” while wearing a cheep tiara? But then the actress did turn to the camera and the actress was in fact Queen Elizabeth II herself. I audibly gasped, I’m assuming along with 90% of the UK. The Queen on the other hand was not at all surprised to find Daniel Craig standing behind her. In fact, her face gave no hint what-so-ever that this was anything out of the ordinary as she said “Good evening, Mr. Bond.” That would have been enough. But the Queen then got up and walked past Bond as 007 chuckled to himself in what maybe one of the top five Bond moments every captured on film. It was a window in Craig, the man who simply cannot believe he is playing a scene with the Queen, as well as Bond, who for the first time on film is literally and physically at Her Majesties service. If he had not already, in this very brief moment Craig cemented his legacy as 007 in the mind of the entire world. No ifs, ands, or buts, Daniel Craig is now Bond, James Bond. The helicopter flight, the parachute jump, and the dignified walk by the eight-six-year-old monarch to her box seat were all gravy after the brief exchange between Commander Bond and his Queen. This segment was rightfully the talk of the games and I predict will remain unparalleled in both Bond and Olympic history. The only question left lingering in the air is can Sam Mendes possibly top Danny Boyle’s Bond film? Aint going to be easy. So as these games come to a close I once more stand and raise a martini glass to London. Bloody well done chaps!