Internist Reviews

Qismat (2018)

Are we sure 90% of the reviews here come from independent sources?

[10/10 · 3 October 2018]

Grammatically speaking, they come from the same 'voice. Most of the reviews seem to make identical errors in grammar, repeatedly, and share a similar overall structure. Even their lengths seem unnaturally uniform.

The Man with the Iron Heart (2017)

Miscast, inaccurate, and disappointing

[6/10 · 10 December 2017]

Having read and loved Laurent Binet's superb HHhH, I've been eagerly awaiting this film. Alas, it was hardly worth the wait. The earlier released Anthropoid was a far superior adaptation (or was, at least, a better depiction of the events of Heydrich's assassination).

Other reviewers here have done a nice job detailing the problems this film has as a 'film' so I will only mention two more. Most importantly, Jason Clarke is simply not 'pretty' enough to play Heydrich. Indeed, part of history's fascination with Heydrich is because, physically, he was the perfect Aryan: blonde, tall, sculpted if not chiselled physiognomy, etc. Other than his blonde hair, Clarke's marked and jowled features are completely dissimilar to Heydrich's and served only to distract. Clarke's miscasting is only slightly more jarring than the use of Stephen Graham to play Himmler. Unable or unwilling to project Himmler's menace, Graham comes across more avuncular than sinister. No one would cower in the presence of Graham's pudgy Himmler.

I was also disappointed by the movie's many historical inaccuracies and omissions. Einsatzgruppen executions are shown repeatedly as being by a bullet to the torso, whereas a shot in the nape of the neck was their trademark. The boy being tortured is shown to be around 10-years-old when he fact the real 'boy' was actually a mature 17 years, already engaged to be married. Likewise what got him to talk was having his mother's head placed in his lap (others say it was placed in a fish bowel) but not by having to watch the torture of someone else as is depicted here. And, where was Hitler at Heydrich's funeral? For some reason the writer's chose to pretend he didn't attend, but of course he attended and delivered an inflammatory eulogy while he was there. There are many more such errors. Admittedly these are small details but their cumulative effect was to take me out of the film. They also made me wonder what other, perhaps more important facts the movie had botched.

The Blind Side (2009)

Best picture nominee? You have GOT to be kidding!!

[2/10 · 20 May 2014]

I know I'm late to the party but I simply can't resist writing a review even at this late date. I have to get if off my chest and, maybe, I can push some other latecomer off the tracks and out of the way of this runaway train of a movie (must be my "protective instincts" <- in joke for those who've seen the flick).

I honestly don't think I've ever been more mystified about why a movie received so much praise; and a 'Best Picture' nomination, to boot! "Mystified" isn't even right the word. More like 'astounded', 'flabbergasted', 'dumbfounded', or whatever the right synonym is for the combination of puzzlement and outrage I have after watching it. I mean this movie is BAD! ROTTEN to the core! LOUSY in every way! What absolute and utter dreck! WHO could have possibly thought this travesty of a movie was one of the ten best of the year? Did they think they were nominating for the Razzies?

What's that you say? What about Sandra Bullock? Exactly! WHAT about Sandra Bullock!? That she can take on a role requiring the most meagre of ranges and stay with it for two hours of screen time? Heck, if this had been a play and not a movie, then instead of an Oscar she could have gotten a Tony - a one schtick Tony!

If Sandra Bullock's performance is the apex of one-dimensional acting (I guess that would give her at least one 'point' in her favor - ha ha!), the script must be the highest (and never before climbed) peak in the range of movies that have used back to back to back and back again clichés. As I watched it, I found myself repeatedly saying, "Oh no, there not going really use that trope, are they?" But, oh yes, they sure did! And then another. And another . . . Still, I suppose the screenwriters did show some restraint in this respect. I mean they did, after all, manage to resist using the old trick of showing newspaper headlines to announce Michael's initial successes to the audience. Yup, I didn't see one spinning 50-point font headline screaming, "Big MIke does it again!!". Not even an "Oher leads to team to championship!". But, please note that I said I "didn't SEE" anything like that. Full disclosure - it may have happened while I had my eyes closed in an effort to stem another wave of nausea.

And don't even let me get me started on its race, prejudice, and sensitivity 'aspects'. Like I said, this is a movie where each scene is a cliché about to unfold, dissolving into a cliché, and fading out to, guess what. Oh yeah.

Looking for the bottom line? Okay. Remember Battlefield Earth? (I hope not). Well, Battlefield Earth is to The Blind SIde as Citizen Kane is to Manos: The Hands of Fate (and Torgo was no Orson Welles!)

Bobby Fischer Against the World (2011)

Be careful what you wish for . . .

[9/10 · 30 May 2011]

There is a telling scene in Liz Garbus's documentary of Bobby Fischer's life that takes place in Reykjavik the morning after he has beaten Soviet Boris Spassky to win the world championship. "Something inside me has changed", he tells a reporter. Indeed. Although his insane ravings about "the Jews", familiar to the audience even before the movie starts, were still years in the future, Garbus leaves little doubt that the seeds of Fischer's paranoia started the moment he won the title. And, as we are shown by Garbus's extraordinary use of historical footage and photographs, those seeds would take root in a psyche scarred irreparably by the life-long pursuit to be champion. In an earlier scene, Bobby recounts to an interviewer how he has wanted to be World Chess Champion "since I was seven years old". He never knew that there might be other goals in life. This fine and moving film is the story, then, of how, and at what cost, Bobby Fischer finally got his wish.

Garbus's formula is a standard one but succeeds brilliantly here. She juxtaposes archival footage and still photos (much of which, I believe, has never been shown publicly before) with contemporary interviews of many of the key players from Fischer's two-decade pursuit of the title. These individuals - fellow chess players (several of whom were his boyhood friends), tournament organizers, journalists, even his bodyguard - were all members of the small cadre of people that Bobby allowed into his life. Many were even part of his inner circle at Reykjavik. To a person, then, the interviewees were uniquely qualified to share their recollections of Bobby. But, beyond that, they had been positioned to gain some understanding of Bobby. In this film, they share that understanding, or at least their attempts at understanding, of who Bobby Fischer was, and more importantly, why he was that way.

One can only try to imagine the monumental effort required by Garbus to convince them to appear on camera. That she was even able to get Henry Kissinger (now a heavyweight in more ways than one) speaks volumes about her credibility. Kissinger's presence in the film is only one reminder of what was at stake in Reykjavik. Garbus reminds us that this was war: US versus the USSR, capitalism versus communism, freedom versus oppression, each could have been used to describe the battle. But in the end, the only one that really mattered was the title Garbus chose for her work: Bobby Fischer against the World.

Garbus filmed most of the interviews against stunning backdrops of wood-paneled libraries and polished marble floors. In that way she provides quite a contrast for some of the interviewees with their rumpled, 'haven't shaved in three days' look. By doing so, she heightens their humanity, and their humility. Bobby, by contrast, throughout the film, in his words and by his actions, only serves to confirm that he may not have had much of either.

Chess grandmasters Larry Evans and Anthony Saidy, who both knew Bobby since he was a little boy, are not just particularly articulate and insightful, but are also fonts of interesting 'Bobby facts'. Saidy tells us that when Bobby decided to camp out at Saidy's parents' home to avoid the press in the weeks leading up to the World Championship, Saidy's father was dying of cancer. "Bobby, about you staying with us, my dad is sick with cancer". "It's okay, I don't mind", replied the only slightly self absorbed Fischer.

Many of the interviews are with Europeans - Icelanders, Russians, Germans - and all reinforce how impressive it is to hear someone speak fluently in a language other than their native tongue. One has no doubts that their memories and minds must also be sharp. In this context, it is perhaps ironic that LIFE photographer and Scotsman Harry Benson's humanizing photos of Bobby, shown prominently on screen while he speaks, need no words to tell us all we need to know.

Two segments are, each, extraordinary. Saemi Parsson who was Bobby's bodyguard in Reykjavik tells the camera how, after not hearing a word from Bobby in 22 years ("not a peep"), he received the imprisoned Bobby's frantic phone call from Japan (the Japanese had detained Fischer at the request of the US). That Bobby chose to call Parsson, is not quite the correct statement. Rather, that Bobby had no one to call but Parsson seems closer to the truth. We are reminded by this episode that Bobby, by then, was not only stateless, but had severed all relationships with his family and friends. He was alone in more ways than one. The other segment is priceless and is comprised of a faded ABC Wide World of Sports TV special featuring noted sports artist LeRoy Neiman. Neiman, who expected to be "bored to pieces" by the match in Reykjavik draws Fischer as a matador skewering the hapless Spassky! But, can you imagine? ABC's Wide World of Sports? For chess? Such was the impact of Robert James Fischer.

Immediately after beating Spassky, Fischer began his life of seclusion. It may have been even sadder that he also effectively stopped playing chess at the same time, at age 29. All of us are familiar with Fischer's increasingly bizarre post-Reykjavik antics. Sometimes attributed to eccentricity, Garbus makes no secret that she believes Bobby's behaviour was a product of mental illness. Through the images and words of her film, she leaves no other way to label Bobby's paranoia and psychotic pronouncements. She puts the proof right there, in the flickering of a projector, for all to see. We wish it weren't so.

Max Manus: Man of War (2008)

Soldier of Orange Goes to Oslo

[7/10 · 4 April 2010]

Over 30 years ago a much younger, and pre-Robocop, Paul Verhoeven made the understated and under-appreciated Soldier of Orange. In Max Manus, we see the 'Soldaat van Oranje' resurrected but with Oslo subbing for Amsterdam this time around. And it's a good flick, too. Not great like 'Soldaat', but it will do. Indeed, as an introduction to Norwegian cinema to many, it's a more than decent 'nice to meet you'.

Comparison between the two pictures are, and should be, inevitable. After all, they're both about their country's WWII resistance movement, both made by and with native sons, and both try to fill a hole in the swiss-cheese minds of non-native audiences (who will mostly know what the USA, and maybe their own country, did during that time).

The opening scenes of each introduce us not just to the main characters, but to their college-boy mischief, their bonhomie, and their profound loyalty - both to their country and to each other. We witness the naive optimism of some, and the courage of all. Meticulous period (and locale) details fill each shot of Max, just like its predecessor. Why, we even get to see another return of the king in the coda (actually, in Orange, it was the queen, Wilhelmina). Here, again, the returning monarch is subdued in his triumph, looking, well, regal, surrounded by his adoring, and recently freed subjects. And flags, lots of flags. You get the idea.

The acting is where Max is not 'max'. Although most of the supporting cast is quite excellent, outstanding really, the same cannot be said for our hero Max. Aksel Hennie as MM seems to be able to project only two personas in playing his role: brave and defiant and brave and sensitive. Alas, it's what should have come in between that counts. His love interest, a miscast Agnes Kittelsen (as 'Tikken'), tries hard but winds up convincing only Max, not the audience. And, speaking of love interest, unlike Soldier of Orange where the attraction between the characters was alive and the audience effortlessly empathic, Max Manus, both the movie and the character, never make it clear why he fell for Tikken. Still, at least we understand what their romance had to do with the plot - allegiance to fact, and all that. Indeed, that's infinitely more insight than we get about the totally irrelevant and red-herring-like affair between the movie's arch-villain, the echt evil Nazi - Siegfried Fehmer (played without resort to too much stereotype by Ken Duken). I suspect much plot development in this regard was left on the floor of the cutting room.

Before all you Norwegians start throwing rancid herrings at me, please understand my criticism is about the movie, not about your heroes or your history. Before this film, I would have been surprised to hear that most non-Norwegians could utter anything beyond "Quisling" when asked about Norway and WWII. Unfortunately, as nice as it would have been to add "Max Manus" to people's fund of Norse WWII myths and legends, that's going to have to wait a while longer. Let's hope that it's not another 65 years.

The Road (I) (2009)

Decent but could have been so much better

[7/10 · 2 December 2009]

There's always a risk in seeing the film adaptation of a book you love. When you're head over heals about the book, it's very rare, indeed, for the movie not to disappoint. But there's another risk, too. When sharing your opinion about such a film, your audience is almost guaranteed to think you're a snob. I promise - I am not a snob! Hear me out. Please.

The movie is visually stunning in its bleak, hopeless, decay-ridden vistas. Interiors are full of terror, some suggested and much explicit. Visually, then, the movie gives total allegiance to the book. Likewise, the characters and their dreams, and their nightmares, are compelling - just as they were in the text. As has been stated by many other reviewers, the acting is superb. Viggo is a genius (the lack of general appreciation for his performance in Eastern Promises is sad and inexplicable). Newcomer Kodi Smit-McPhee avoids overacting (a fault of so many young actors) and touches our hearts repeatedly, while Charleze Theron is magnificent at conveying the mother who's run out of hope but not love.

So, why only seven stars? Although the book soars by its brilliant and often novel use of dialogue, sentence fragments, expressive phrases and power words, it is the meaning and content of those words and sentences which underlie its greatness. Why does the film omit so many of those treasures? In possibly the most moving scene in the book, the father admonishes his son to always talk to him after he (the father) dies. Papa reassures the boy that he will surely answer. In what are, in my opinion at least, the most important few sentences of the book, he heartens the boy by explaining that "goodness" will find him. "It always does". In addition to these wonderful but sadly omitted father/son conversations, the movie also leaves out much of the clever and provocative dialogue spoken by the old man, "Ely". For example, we never hear, "There is no God and we are his prophets". Why were these, and so many other, magnificent portions of the text not included in the film? It defies explanation. In going from book to movie, of all things it is easiest to be faithful to the original dialogue. There was simply no reason to purge the text as was done, especially when it was so remarkable and extraordinary. The movie is so much the less for having done so.

Finally, I'll acknowledge that it is often impossible to translate and transform from one medium to another. And that is even more the case for a work by the unique Cormac McCarthy. There can be no filming of prose, no visualization of ambiguous or provocative dialogue. It often becomes necessary to substitute a new plot device, or simply a new plot development to try to make up for those unfilmable entities. And, indeed, in this movie it seemed that the missing speech was to be offset by introducing more action sequences, more chases, more horror. Alas, in doing so, more than McCarthy's words were lost. We lost, too, their often sublime subtlety, their ability to move us and to make us think. We lost what made the book brilliant.

Passchendaele (2008)

An embarrassment

[2/10 · 5 July 2009]

My God! Watching this film, I found it hard to believe that it was done with a straight face. Cliché riddled, irrelevant and soporific subplots, truly laughable, wooden, anachronistic dialogue, stilted acting, the miscasting of virtually every character (with Gross himself taking the blue ribbon in this regard), the movie is an embarrassment. Indeed, its hard to know what's more embarrassing - the movie itself or the fact there are so many reviewers whose patriotism makes them blind to its stink and causes them to heap praise upon it. I'm embarrassed that people can be so misguided and let their need to boost Canada interfere with their critical faculties. But I digress.

In fact, it was obvious that the film was going to be dreadful within minutes of the opening titles. By this I mean that it actively oozed CBC - the sets, the vistas, the type of lens used, EVERYTHING just reeked of a CBC influence. Except for the battle scenes, there was a pervasive sense that one was watching yet another prototypical, Sunday 7 PM, CBC special presentation. It is actually sad that Paul Gross invested so much of his heart and soul in this production.

I've given it a '2' out of 10, rather than a mere '1', to reflect the fact that it had at least one redeeming quality - it ended.

Genocide (1982)

Takes some historical liberties, but for a good cause

[8/10 · 21 August 2006]

If only one documentary film of the holocaust should be preserved, this is probably it. Riveting in its content, rich in its emotion, and outstanding in its technique, this film flirts with greatness. Indeed, the moving narration provided by both Elizabeth Taylor and Orson Welles is among the most impassioned, most heartfelt, in cinematic history.

Alas, despite its overall excellence, the film must be "marked down" because of its apparent disregard for internal consistency. Don't get me wrong - everything (and more) of what it recounts is factually true. And all of the documentary evidence it presents is as real as the screen you're looking at. No, what bothered me was the tendency over and over again for the filmmaker to use photographic material inaccurately. So, for example, to help paint the picture of the Holocaust on the Eastern Front, we are presented with multiple black and white photographs of hangings. The trouble is that many of the photos were neither of Jews nor of the Holocaust. They were of partisans and commissars (also hunted and slaughtered by the Nazis). Likewise, while the narration describes an 'aktion' in Lithuania, the photos we see are from assaults on Jewish women in Lvov. I could go on, but think you get the idea.

Again, please don't misinterpret me. I am not at all challenging the general veracity of the film nor the importance of its message. My quarrel is, simply, that too many of the illustrations used to complement the narrative are out of place and inaccurate. By and large, this probably makes little difference to things overall (whether someone was murdered in 1943 or 1944, and whether by hanging or by a bullet to the back of the neck, is irrelevant in the total enormity of the Holocaust). However, given the reality of revisionists and deniers, the last thing one would want to do, especially when making a film that in some sense "proves" the Holocaust, is to give the disbelievers any ammunition for their perverted cause. Frankly, I'm distressed by such careless selection and use of photos. I fear that this could cost the film credibility - credibility in the eyes of those who most need to have them opened.

War of the Century (1999– )

Extraordinary film of an extraordinarily cruel war

[9/10 · 18 August 2006]

This is a remarkable achievement (originally, four 50 minute episodes, but presented here as a 200 minute continuous whole on the DVD), unique in its content, style, and focus.

Some will say, 'I've seen this type of thing before - grainy black & white footage, while an erudite British voice intones in the background'. Or, 'more "war and Nazis"?; how many of these can the history channel show?' In fact, this film is unique. Anyone with the slightest interest in the second world war should consider it a 'must see'.

For the uninitiated, it provides a comprehensive and stirring presentation of what is arguably the most important battle of the most important war of the 20th, and possibly, any, century. For those more familiar with World War II and its history, stories, and tragedy, this documentary fills in a huge hole. A hole that has been present in virtually every non-Soviet-produced film of its kind - the hole that is the battle on the Eastern Front. This production, especially by its frequent and masterful use of archival footage and its inclusion of first-person accounts by the victors (Soviets), the vanquished (Germans), and the eternally oppressed (the innocent civilians of all stripes), has filled the gap.

Here, one is spared nothing. The atrocities are graphically presented (13 million Soviet civilians died, and millions more of its soldiers perished as well). But the inclusion of such horrors is not just for shock value (as shocking it is). No, the viewer is considered sophisticated and interested enough to be informed of the more fundamental reasons for the slaughter.

The enormity of the atrocities notwithstanding, the film also details and chronicles the more "usual" battles of the campaign. And here, it has few rivals - comprehensive, endowed with multiple first-person accounts (some disarmingly non-contrite), and an impressive amount of (what I presume to be) previously unseen color footage. The net effect is to convey to the viewer a picture, and a lesson, which few, if any, other documentaries of its kind are able.

This is a remarkable film. If you have even the slightest curiosity about the "war in the east", get it. You will not be disappointed.

Nuremberg (2000)

silly, contrived derivative production

[5/10 · 2 June 2006]

There can be no doubt that subjects such as the Nuremberg trial or the enormity of Nazi war crimes are of tremendous gravity. But, it does not follow that depictions of, and productions about, those subjects automatically make the production itself excellent. Indeed, and as "Nuremberg" demonstrates, historical import is no guarantee of a film's quality. Among other things, there still must be a logical plot, a compelling screenplay, intelligent dialogue, fine acting, and appropriate casting. Nuremberg fails to deliver on most of these.

What could the screenwriters have been thinking when they gave the (rather vapid) affair between Justice Jackson and his secretary so much screen time? That contemporary audiences still require a subplot revolving around sex to keep their interest? Yet, that story line is included. And emphasized. Repeatedly.

And was the director not aware that Christopher Plummer's character's deep tan would appear ludicrously incongruous in a movie set in post war Germany? Along the same lines, did the director feel that audiences would relate better to a female protagonist of the 1940's whose mannerisms and demeanour are more typical of a "modern" woman of 2000?

Any film about the Nuremberg trial automatically starts off with credibility. The subject matter guarantees it. And any film about Nuremberg automatically contains the crucial elements required to move audiences, to stir their emotions. It is not just ironic, but sad, then, that Nuremberg squanders those inherent pluses; that it fails to deliver and that, ultimately it fails to move us. And that is tragic for many many reasons.

Fighter Pilot: Operation Red Flag (2004)

The IMAX process has never been put to better use

[8/10 · 23 April 2006]

Notwithstanding the outrageously low score awarded to this film by at least one self-proclaimed "frustrated" reviewer, this is a terrific flick.

Obviously (and thankfully) exploiting the spectacular IMAX technology, director Stephen Low provides us, the uninitiated, with shot after shot of awesome and awe-inspiring aerial combat and the planes that participate in it. This is a movie that simultaneously wows us with aesthetics and excitement. Indeed, isn't that what fighter pilots have said so often - that 'it's beautiful but scary up there'.

In addition to the breathtaking cinematography and heart-stopping action sequences, I was especially impressed by some of the less glamorous depictions. The shots inside the AWAC plane are simply exquisite. In fact, I would have guessed that the luscious views we see of the computer displays on board that intelligence craft would have forever remained off limits to us civilians. Likewise, we are treated to stunning panoramas of the airfield and runways at Nelles AFB. Wow! A super example of something that must be seen to be appreciated.

And that's just it. 'Fighter Pilot: Operation Red Flag', Low's brilliant work, allows us to SEE modern air warfare first hand and up close. The IMAX process has never been put to better use.