Movie Monday: Random Reviews

I wanted to review a movie for today so I clicked through the 40+ movies in my TV movie package, eliminated the fart jokes movies, the vampire movies, the no-redeeming-value sex movies...... and I wound up watching some more of Sicko.

Michael Moore is mercilessly skewered by conservatives and loons in the U.S. because he so often holds a mirror to our warts. As I once said, I can only take him, and Howard Zinn, in short spurts because I get soooooo mad.

If I were to score this movie, it would be a dirge. The stress, the pain, the inhumanity faced by so many Americans without health care; it makes me weep.

I turned Sicko off this time before Moore's trip to Cuba but this movie has a quiet tone. Perhaps Moore, the director, is also stunned to quietness by the insanity of the U.S. health care. Insanity only if you are aiming for a representative, enlightened, advanced government. Quite believable if you're heralding the return of feudalism.

Then I caught most of Kenneth Branagh’s Henry V. I think Branagh is so much better than Laurence Olivier in the role. Then I realized: I have never seen Olivier in that role. Ah, hah, you’re saying, another snap judgment. Not really, I have seen him in Hamlet and Richard III plus many movies. Olivier, to me, was Olivier, playing, Olivier, playing the role. Got that? I always felt he wanted me to remember he was a star. Not that he wasn’t’ a very good actor but perhaps being nurtured when there was a studio star system that feeling got bred in his bone. After all, just how many swoons can you endure before you believe your godlike stature?

Branagh is more immersed in the role. That early scene where he lays the trap for the traitors is crisp and lean. He is jovial, he is king-like, he is a snake, and you believe it all.

Of course, you must compare the famous St. Crispin’s Day speech. Branagh is the tired, worried sovereign in a rainy field rallying his small band to fight what he knows should be their losing battle. He is not Branagh, playing Branagh, playing Henry. Additionally, and I don’t know if Shakespeare wrote this, his one line to the French herald who rides up after the battle and Henry asks him which side won, struck home on two levels: it was true to the character as Branagh played him (no bravado here) and it was true to battles - how did a ruler know who won after those bloody messes?

I stopped watching when Henry went to woo the French princess. I know that’s in the play but the play was over for me by then.

Last night, I saw about an hour and a half of The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian before I turned to PBS for another Branagh - more later.

Not having read the Chronicle books and not having liked Lewis much except for That Hideous Strength, I was surprised how much excitement I found in this movie. I only got to the part where Peter has failed in a raid on the castle but I found parts of the battle thrilling albeit unbelievable to imagine that children could carry out a successful Children’s Crusade. But as a bloody lesson to Peter (he was advised against it) the battle was a good learning tool in character development. There was a fair amount of good excitement in this movie; most of it being the spooky murder mystery type of let’s have some thing scary appear behind the trees, but it should keep young kids involved, if not shrieking under the seats. So far, it is a movie that moves; not a faint praise. I can’t write a final review yet since I have almost an hour more to see but the fact that I’m looking forward to seeing it is encouraging.

Now on to Branagh playing a Swedish detective in Wallender. This comment sums it up: Kenneth Branagh continues PBS tradition of brooding detective. He really doesn’t brood; it’s like broodiness is thrust upon him. Immediately, a teenager sets herself on fire and then three diverse people are killed and scalped. Wow! That’s a lot of brutality happening very fast.

And then there are the explanations. You really don’t seem to be able to kill people in mysteries today without multiple explanations all of which you must remember for the denouement which will tie it all together. (Yeah, right!) At least everyone was talking English here, the “king’s English” that is, but at least not with a Swedish accent. All of a sudden, someone would mumble something about a murder victim and I would try to mentally take notes which is no easy trick with mumbling. (It was interesting that they all spoke English but the shot of a newspaper showed it was written in Swedish. Note to failing newspapers: try to print in the language your reader speak.)

And then, there’s the personal brooding. You know there is personal brooding before you know why: Branagh hasn’t shaved in days. At least, in this go round, Branagh has a good relationship with his daughter; he just can’t get along with his dad. Little touches are added to stay current: dad’s wife is nice but a step; dad is showing the early signs of Alzheimers.

And then: I fell asleep. At this point, I don’t know who-dun-it or even if last night’s ending tied up all the questions (the series continues through the month.) But this is PBS and I should be able to pick up this tale of the mystery scalper on another night.

Moore, two Branaghs, and a Lewis. I guess it really was a productive movie weekend.

Coming soon: The 1940s war movies in the U.S.