Ashes and Diamonds

Tonight's Film:

During the last day of World War II, Polish freedom fighters attempt to assassinate the incoming Communist leader. Are they heroes? Villains? That there is confusion at all is due to the mastery that is Andrzej Wajda, who directed this in 1958, while the country was under strict communist control. It's a tight, taunt thriller that is ultimately shocking as well as tender. This black and white gem has more than its share of gray, and it's all expertly handled. 

The dude there in the sunglasses is Zbigniew Cybulski (Henry tried to tell me how to pronounce his name like 11 times, to no avail). He is known as the Polish James Dean, probably because folks like me couldn't pronouce his real name, but mostly due to his rebellious, nearly manic performance in this film. Apparently, sunglasses sales in Poland skyrocketed after the release of Ashes and Diamonds. With good reason; Polish James Dean has style for days. 

This is one of Martin Scorsese's favorite films, and it's easy to see why. First of all, it's gorgeous. The black and white seamlessly shifts from stark to romantic, often within the same scene and ably aided by the clouds of cigerette smoke. Second of all, the acting is brilliant. mostly done in eye shifts and head nods and soft inflections and sighs, but then things explode. And Lordie, do they ever explode. Like machine guns in church explode. Last of all, there is an aching love for film-making that courses under it all like a heartbeat; it sounds in every camera angle and through the gentle but relentless score and within the expert lighting that seems to caress more than illuminate. It's Scorsese before there was Scorsese. Or perhaps it's why there's Scorsese.  

Ashes and Diamonds refers to the pressure, and loss, that is required to create diamonds. No ash here, this film is certainly a diamond. 

Scaramouche

Last night's movie:

I like MGM epics. The 5-year-old likes sword fights. We both like to stay up past midnight, watching old movies, while the rest of the family sleeps. Hence, last night's midnight showing of Scaramouche. 

This one's got it all. Pomp. Pageantry. Enough Technicolor to make your eyes cross. Stewart Granger is in full-on beef-cake glory. Mel Ferrer is playing the villain (which he should have done way more often because he was way scary). Eleanor Parker is not getting rejected by Captain von Trapp, for once. And Janet Leigh is not getting stabbed in the shower, for once. (Oh, sorry, spoiler alert!) It's pretty pre-Revolution France (you know, without pesky poverty or subjugation or raging disease), and it is gorgeous as all get out.

Things cap off with a 7 minute sword fight that had the 5-year-old jumping around the living room, attempting to also swing on the drapes. I may need to reconsider these midnight epics........ but you shouldn't. See it soon! 

Moneyball

Tonight's film: 

Because when Henry and I watch come-from-behind-sports-movies, we like 'em true and we like 'em with statistics. Actually, no, that's not true. I mean, Henry does, but I watch it for pre-action-movie Chris Pratt and a totally understated Jonah Hill that you just want to give a hug. Plus, Brad Pitt looks like he bathed for this one, and that's always a good thing. Love it. 

The Man that Never Was

Henry and I share a fondness for World War II movies. We watched this little gem the other night. It was pretty good; a totally implausible scheme to fool the Nazis made all the more fascinating because it is based on a true story. It has some slow moments. Our friend Nathan was talking about how in 70s cop shows they didn't seem to employ an editor; they would make you watch the cops get in the car, drive to the crime scene, stop at a red light, get out at the crime scene, fill out paperwork. This was like the World War II version of that. On a sub. But, despite that, we quite enjoyed it, and look out for a fabulous Gloria Grahame (fresh off her Ado Annie fame), who dictates the most beautiful, most heartbreaking, love letter ever written to a fake fighter pilot. It's streaming on Netflix, just saying.....

Paul Blart Mall Cop 2

I know. I know. But I really like Kevin James. I guess that's my guilty movie secret. What's not a secret is that I adore film. Like good film. I can toss around terms like noir lighting and French new wave and tracking shot and archetypes and Oscar bait. I've read The Seven Basic Plots and Awake in the Dark. Heck, I've been to Ebert-fest. I have a BFA and I am not afraid to use it. Basically, I adore film. All film.

I think Kevin James is that perfect combo of funny and sweet. Or maybe it's because he kinda looks like my husband. Or maybe it's because his pratfalls are well honed, well-timed, and remind me of prime Laurel and Hardy. But, you know what, it doesn't matter why. I just like him and that's OK.

We all have our Kevin Jameses. Yours might be B monster movies from the 60s or Smokey and the Bandit 3 (I'll grant you 1, even 2, but 3? Seriously, that thing is a mess.). Maybe you love Adam Sandler or you watch Showgirls when no one else is home or maybe you think anything that John Travolta makes on his own is misunderstood genius. And I don't judge you for it. Well, I might. A little. In my head. The same part of the brain that has you judging me for liking Kevin James. These things are not explainable. But they might be hereditary because I took the 7-year-old to see this one and he found it screamingly funny. Here is his review:

"He is so fast! And he runs around and rides these cool scooter things and there are bad guys. And he doesn't kill the bad guys because he is a good guy and has all these cool way of stopping them. And he has a super smart daughter who is really pretty. And Las Vegas looks really shiny but kinda dangerous, so I am glad that Paul Blart and his security people were there to protect everyone. And make me laugh."

Made me laugh too. Don't judge my Kevin James and I won't judge yours. Deal?

Oscars Rules

Dear Oscars-

My mother and I have been watching the Oscars for a very long time, and we have developed a few rules for you. These aren't suggestions; these are pretty hard and fast.

1.) Speeches: they need to be eloquent, funny, or short. This isn't our first rodeo; we know you aren't going to do all three. Just pick one that works for you and stick to it.

2.) If you win, do not pull out your speech and read it. It looks like you thought you were gonna win: tacky. Furthermore, most of you are actors and can memorize a few lines. One would hope.

3.) We want to see movie clips. We love movies; that's kinda why we are here. Show us some movie clips. Do NOT do that weird thing you did a couple years ago when 5 former Oscars winners showed up and talked about the 5 actors who were nominated and we had to endure hearing about Angelina Jolie's luminance and grace. Nobody wants that. Everyone wants movie clips.

4.) If you can't manage any of the things in rule number 1, then get drunk and do something outrageous. We love scandal; that's kinda why we are here. Mom and I don't get to watch the Oscars together and we call each other at every commercial; make sure we have something to talk about, other than Gwyneth Paltrow's ugly dress. (You know it will be.) And don't make the Foreign Film winners bring all the sparkle and eccentricity. You are making Americans look boring. Do something; I don't know, act interesting perhaps.

5.) Boob rules. There are a lot of these:

A.) We are not prudes, you are welcome to show some cleavage. Just make sure it is from the top. No side boob or under boob allowed.

B.) Please make sure that more of your boob is covered than uncovered. If more of your boob is uncovered than covered, you are violating Boob Rule A. It's just simple math.

C.) Wear a bra. Or have one built into your dress. (Yes, they can do that.)

D.) Do NOT tug up your dress on the stage. (several million people just saw that) Do NOT tug up your dress in the audience. (you never know when the camera is on you) Do NOT tug up your dress at all. There are at least 75 costume designers in this place, go get some help (pre-show) if you think you are slipping. They'll have safety pins or some double-sided tape. Get help; don't tug.

6.) Hey, sound wizards, I don't wanna hear the applause during the who-died-this-year montage. It's tacky to hear the clapping swell when some actor pops up, and then crickets when, let's say, some sound engineer is honored. Crank the maudlin ballad you have playing over it or just block out the applause until the end. Be all sound wizardy; do it for your tech brethren everywhere.

7.) Tulle? No.

8.) We want some sort of weird song and dance number, maybe 2. I am thinking for the opening and then for the nominated songs. Neil Patrick, this one's on you, Buddy. You can do it. But keep it short and toned-down; this isn't the Tonys.

9.) Steer clear of politics, unless your movie was political. Then you are allowed, but make sure you make sense and stick to Rule 1. No rambling. Documentaries, you are allowed to be as political or rambling as you want. They are gonna play you off anyway.

10.) Don't take yourselves too seriously. You are a room full of rich people handing each other golden statues for playing pretend. Have fun!

We'll be watching. Don't make us add your name to our "yeah-don't-much-care-for-him/her list." You wanna be on the "Oh-I-love-him/her!" list with Helen Mirren.

Happy Oscars!
Erin and Cathy

Paddington

Tonight's film:

Will: It was amazing, I loved it, it was even better than I thought it would be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Will insisted on this level of exclamation points.) My favorite part was when (spoiler) Mr. Brown dresses as a lady, it was funny!!!

Sean: I liked the part when the bathtub floated away!

Lucy spent the movie running around the theater.

This rare moment of stillness was only due to the fact that she fell,

slipped on some popcorn she spilled no doubt. 

No worries, she's fine,

although she may be possessed.

(but if she is, she's been that way for awhile now.)

The baby enjoyed himself by diving into the popcorn bucket. He even said "uh-oh!" during a particularly tense scene involving some pigeons, so that was exciting. 

It was a fun movie, with a surprisingly imperfect protagonist family; much like our own. And I loved this director's vision of London, A bit of magically real storytelling, sort of Wes Anderson-ish. And who doesn't love Wes Anderson? (Do not comment and tell us you don't love Wes Anderson. We won't be able to compute such a statement.)

See it; super sweet!

Godzilla's Revenge

So, Henry and I have decided to expose the children to more classic film in 2015. We differ on what constitutes classic film. Tonight Henry won:

So, this part of the Godzilla franchise has some of the worst reviews ever. Perhaps because it is basically a children's movie and the monster antics are confided to the protagonist's mind. There are 2 main plots; one involving some bungling bank robbers and one involving a little boy being bullied at school and left alone a lot by 2 overworked parents, thus retreating into a dream world involving the always fun "Monster Island." My day-dreams usually don't involve fire-breathing monsters, but I'm not a lonely Japanese boy from the 60s, so what do I know.

It has the trippiest music ever, and I am grading on a curve here due to its release date of 1969. Godzilla has a child in this one; a rather alarming dinosaur-like fellow named Minya that speaks English and is bullied by the less verbally advanced monsters. Our oldest said that he looked and sounded exactly like Barney the Purple Dinosaur. Henry says that Godzilla's son sounds more like Don Knotts. The bad reviews are starting to make sense now, eh?

All in all, it wasn't a bad way to spend an hour and a half. The children were entertained and remained on the couch the whole time, instead of their usual bored move of wandering in and out with various toys. Anything that can keep their attention that long can't be all bad.

Henry likes that "they are telling multiple stories" and doesn't like that "both stories move incredibly slowly and seem rather pointless." He also isn't sure what the message is exactly; "is it that to deal with bullies you should become angry and aggressive like Godzilla? Or is it that you should retreat into a dream-world where you get chased by scary monsters and hang with a reptilian Don Knotts? Or is it that you should rob banks?" So many questions.

Our 4-year-old says he "kinda likes it" and "monster fighting is always fun."

Our 6-year-old says "it's good. Who doesn't like Godzilla movies?"

Our 3-year-old slept through the whole thing, after declaring that she was stronger than Godzilla and was going to her room to playing with some ponies.

And our baby couldn't believe his luck when the 4-year-old knocked a whole bowl of popcorn on his head during a particularly intense battle.

The Holy Land of Tyrol/Bergblut

or

For some reason, I think they look better in the German poster.

Don't ask me why, I'm not getting a lot of sleep these days.

So, the baby is teething. This leads to a lot of hanging out with him at night, when he only wants to sleep in a very specific position in my arms. This position is not good for sleeping myself, but it is good for watching strange foreign movies with the sound way down. I like to pick foreign films for the reason that I can have the sound nearly off and still understand what everyone is saying. (God bless subtitles.) And I like to pick strange foreign films because watching them with Henry always leads to the inevitable "foreign films end too abruptly fight," followed by the "we could have watched Avengers, Lord of the Rings, or pretty much anything else cool instead fight." And I'm too tired for that mess right now. 

Hence, me and the baby watching this strange little gem about a Bavarian woman who marries beneath her, and thus has to move to Tyrol with her new husband and learn to fit in there during the Napoleonic Wars. Spoiler: It isn't easy. 

Not that anything appears to be easy in Tyrol. This state in western Austria is known as the heart of the Alps, and it rivals Poland for most popular place to invade and trade between powerful neighbors. During the time of the movie, this involves Germany and France. And let me just say, I am glad that the baby speaks neither because the slurs going on were not polite. (If you wanna know more about Tyrol, Wikipedia has you hooked up.) 

The movie was by turns sad and heroic and joyful, and the energy stayed mostly on our main lady, Katharina. Her growth from young scared wife to strong confident medic was really neat to watch. I suppose anything else would give too much away, but there are a lot of nice twists and turns that don't end predictably or too tragically. Which is impressive, given the overwhelming presence of war that pervades the whole movie. And the views are out of control beautiful because, umm, Alps. 

Don't wait until you have a teething baby, see Bergblut now! (If you are using Amazon Prime to stream it, look for it under its English name.) 

It's a Wonderful Life

"No man is a failure who has friends."

And no mom is a failure who has a movie-loving son. 

So, I have seen It's a Wonderful Life untold times; most of them on snowy Christmas eves while I frantically wrap gifts and giggle as Henry's Mr. Potter impressions get bigger and bigger, the more egg nog he consumes.  My oldest son has seen up to the lassoing-of-the-moon scene for 6 years in a row, at which point the sugar crashes, his little body gives out, and he retreats to visions of sugarplums. Neither of us have ever seen it on the big screen, so we decide to head over to the Michigan Theater today and watch it. It was magical and I could wax poetic for hours. Believe me, I could; it's one of my favorite movies. However, I thought it would be more fun to let my son do this one, given that it was his first complete viewing. Here's what he has to say:

1. Mom let me have candy, which was awesome. I picked Dots and I like them all, but Cherry is, by far, my favorite flavor. 

2. The theater was really pretty. Mom says it is called Art Deco, which I guess means art decoration for short. And it was really decorated, lots of lights and gold stuff. 

3. A man was playing the organ before the movie and that was really good. 

4. Mom, are you gonna number everything I say? Why? Oh, alright. I guess it does make it easier read. OK, go ahead.

5. The beginning of the movie is funny. Well, sorta funny. When that old sad man was hitting...what? Oh, right, when Mr. Gower was hitting George, that wasn't funny at all, but the rest was pretty funny. 

6. Esp. when the dance floor opens up and they all fell in the swimming pool. That was so funny and the best part of the whole movie! I wish our school had a floor like that.

7. Uncle Billy has a pet crow and that is really nice.

8. The middle part is pretty hard to understand, except Clarence does some magic and then George is happy again, even though he is going to jail. He's kinda happy he is going to jail, which is weird, but maybe he is just happy that he has his kids again. 

9. Our house is almost exactly like the Bailey's because it's kinda broken and messy and we have 4 kids too and everyone is always loud and doing weird stuff, but we like it. George likes it too at the end and all the people come over and everyone was shouting so I didn't hear what they said but I think it was good stuff. And Mom cried, which is silly because I told her, "he's not going to jail now because they have money again."

10. And Mom says that you can be rich in money like Mr. Potter or rich in friends like George. And the right answer is that you want to be rich in friends, but I think it might be good to be both. 

The next Roger Ebert, ladies and gentlemen. 

Birdman

Or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance. 

What's unexpected is that Henry and I got to go to a movie.
In the theater.
On a Saturday. 

Birdman is delightfully weird and totally unexpected. I couldn't describe it if I wanted to, but I do want to mention that the depiction of the world of the theater is dead on. Believe me, my B.F.A. may be nearly 15 years old, but you go NOT forget just how dirty and real the theater is. This movie has an ultra-realism that had me squirming in my seat, and it totally worked. The intimacy of the stage was captured perfectly in super close-ups, lingering and excruciating. Everyone is solid and praiseworthy, but Michael Keaton was a powerhouse; heartbreaking and heart-swelling all at once. The Oscar buzz is very very deserved. The parallels to his own career are not: Michael Keaton is no celebrity trying to stay relevant. He is, and always has been, an actor of the finest stuff.

Great, really good-weird, movie.

P.S. The early appearance of an unflappable costume designer, who takes one look at Edward Norton's total nudity and declares that he "needs to go shopping for bigger pants" made me giggle and remember those long ago theater days of just rolling with whatever. Henry whispered "Are actors really like that?" And I said "Oh yes. They are very much like that."

P.P.S. The fact that we viewed this movie at the rather gritty, kinda uncomfortable, I-think-they-might-have-showed-porn-here-in-the-70s State Theater only added to the ultra-realism.

The Triplets of Belleville

This was tonight's film:

I have loved this weird little gem for awhile, but our 6-year-old got to meet the triplets for the first time this evening. He found them delightfully odd. He enjoyed them beating the bad guys best, but he thought the songs were "super nice." The only thing he didn't like was their predilection for frog popsicles. 

22 Jump Street

Tonight's film.

They had me for 1 rather clear reason with extremely well-defined muscles. They kept me with a story that was equal parts sweet, self-aware, and totally side-splitting. And they won me over completely for the sheer audacity to put in a Benny Hill reference. I am starting the Oscar buzz now.

The House

Tonight's Film.

A strange and lingering movie out of Korea about the destruction of a group of falling down old houses and the spirits that dwell in them. Moody and moving, with just enough laughs to keep the children from totally losing it at the end. Just reminded them about the cat-god who stole people's underwear and floated in a purple easy-chair; they were happy again. They absolutely adored the house spirits. The people, well, they didn't really notice them and found their concerns and squabbles rather boring next to the gentle, bouncy spirits. 

Our imaginary-friend-loving 4-year-old loved it the most. Surprise, surprise. The ending is heart-breaking and makes me want to offer a few rice-cakes to the guardian spirit of our house. God knows that just dealing with the noise level around here must be exhausting to even the most benevolent of house guardians.

Toys in the Attic

Tonight's Film:

An entire country of forgotten toys exists in the attic in this stunningly creative movie out of the Czech Republic. The main trio (a bear, a knight puppet, and a clay man with a bottle cap hat) seek to rescue their friend, a doll, from the Land of Evil, which is ruled by a absolutely terrifyingly head statue of a vaguely Communisty dude in Kim Jong Il sunglasses. He has a personality to match and is surrounded by minions of bugs, rotting vegetables, and an disembodied eye that slithers all over the attic with the help of what looks like a vacuum cleaner tube. This is NOT Toy Story. It was by turns absolutely horrifying and fascinating, and while there was certainly some peeking between the fingers watching, not one child, from the sensitive 6-year-old to the fearless 2-year-old, left the room. They huddled in a pile and were riveted by the seemingly endless creativity of these bold film-makers. The use of garbage bags to create an ocean and pillows to create clouds were the children's favorites.

See it. Just don't blame me if your dreams turn out kinda wild that night.

A Cat in Paris

Tonight's film:

Our 6 year old wants to review this one for you:

"This is a different kind of Paris. Just as good as the one with the singer from last time, but a little scarier. But that's OK, you just watch the movie with 1 eye open. The cat was great and there was a funny dog. And this big scary guy and an even bigger guy who wasn't scary at all. Oh, and the end was happy, so don't worry. I think I like Paris. Maybe I'll get a summer house there."

He kinda was born for summers in Paris. 

The Lunchbox

I actually went to the movies tonight, dear Readers! It was delightful just to be at the movies, especially a glorious theater like the Michigan Theater. But to gild the lily, I saw The Lunchbox.

I spent the entire movie afraid to blink; I didn't want to miss anything. It was transcendent. Perfectly paced, lovingly shot. Director Ritesh Batra (with his first feature length film!) provides an eye that is gentle and patient, lingering on scenes long after the main action has been conveyed. And yet, it still isn't enough for the viewer. He seems to know this and allows sounds to bleed into the next scene, just to help you through the transitions. A fascinating technique not often used; it added a magical quality that fit seamlessly. Irrfan Khan always impresses me with his ability to house every emotion known to man in a single glance and he does not disappoint. He is matched beautifully by Nimrat Kaur, who deserves far more than only 6 film credits to her name. Someone cast this woman in everything; she is stunning in her silence. They both built in intensity over the film, allowing their expressions to grow larger and slightly frantic. Their eyes moved faster, their gestures more nervous. It drew the audience in so deeply that by the end everyone near me was shifting uncontrollably, holding our glee back with our hands and arching forward in an effort to help shove these beautiful souls together. We were all so delighted to be enfolded in this heartbreaking yet hopeful tale. I loved it. GO SEE IT RIGHT NOW!

PS. Don't go hungry or you may be tempted to try to eat the screen.

A Monster in Paris

This was tonight's film:

Set in Paris in the year 1910, this delightful fairy tale/French farce focuses on a singer, a budding film-maker, and a delivery driver as they try to save a 7-foot tall singing flea from the wicked Mayor of Paris. Our middle 4-year-old son would like to review this for you:

1. The songs were amazing. Amazing.
2. Monsters aren't always monsters, so you should ask them if they are monsters before you scream at them.
3. We liked dancing during the movie, so that was good.
4. Fleas can jump really really high.
5. We are gonna show you how high!

That's pretty high....

New Plan/Boomerang!

OK, here's the thing. We have 4 kids. Making time to watch movies in any kind of regular pattern just isn't happening over here. We do think we are going to meet our goal of watching every film nominated for an Oscar. We really do. We think we are probably going to be 86 when we do so, but that is beside the point. Therefore, we are not putting any time-limit here. When we happen to watch an Oscar-nominated film, we'll review it. (Or spoiler it, rather.) But no hard and fast rules on when. Cool? Cool.

However, we still do see a lot of movies. A lot of movies. And while we don't have the energy to write long and lengthy reviews of all of them, maybe that isn't necessary, needed, or even nice. How about just a little shout-out to the film-makers who bring us so much joy? Yes, that we can do. 

Boomerang! Perry Mason's father and Law & Order's grandfather:  a docu-noir ripped from the headlines. It was gloriously tense and shadowy. There's a mob scene about halfway in that's as creepy as it is subtle. Of course, the title makes no sense at all, but that's really a minor point when your film is directed by the ever complex Elia Kazan, features the always wonderful Lee Cobb, an impossibly young (and uncredited) Karl Malden, AND an Arthur Miller cameo. It was lovely.

Random Lee Cobb quote: "Theater is the medium of the actor. Film is the medium of the director. Television is the medium of nobody."

Wonder what he would think of the internet......

Wings - Part 2

Now, where were we? Oh yes, a little town in France with a rather kissy General. Wanna catch up? Just read here. Or watch about half of Top Gun. That should do it. 

So, our heroes, Maverick and Iceman....wait, I mean, Jack and David, ace pilots, have just saved a little French town from certain doom at the hands of German bombs and balloons. (Say what you want, they were scary looking.) They get some fancy medals, some cheek kisses, and a well-deserved leave; what are two single and swinging fellas to do? Why, go to Paris, of course!

We see a title card that informs us that the allied army is "on furlough from DEATH," and then we are off to a spontaneous horse race through the streets of Paris. Then a couple naked ladies, some drinking, and some surprisingly leery camera angles that prompt Henry to quip, "Guess they are helping the soldiers forget the front by focusing on the back." Luckily, the children don't get it, nor do they seem to notice all the T. and A. We took the intermission to make some more popcorn and they are rather engrossed in eating at the moment.

We join Mary as she pulls up in front of a nightclub. Through a complicated series of events that we still don't quite understand, she comes to know that Jack is in the club, gets possession of a telegram ordering all pilots back to the front, and somehow gets inside. We follow an impressive and wonderfully done tracking shot through 4 tables to see Jack and David, totally drunk and sitting pretty with some daringly dressed French ladies. Mary sees this too and it causes an avalanche of silent movie stock expressions (anger, sadness, annoyance, curiosity). No wonder she was the queen of the silents; she masters them all and the camera lingers on her for quite awhile.

Then, the Pink Elephants scene from Dumbo starts. OK, not really, but Jack appears to be so drunk that he starts seeing bubbles everywhere. This effect is rather cool and probably involved some poor editor hand-drawing bubbles on frames of film. They start flying out of musical instruments, passing drinks, and, naturally, the cleavage of Jack's French drinking companion. This annoys Mary, although it shouldn't; how can she even see the bubbles? She isn't drunk. A random dance sequence starts up that is half Keystone Kops and half Busby Berkeley and totally pushes Mary away from Jack and into a nearby dressing room. She meets a random lady in there who she tells her troubles too. Random lady says, "you just need to tart it up a little and you'll get your man." We are paraphrasing here, but not much. They find a glittery flapper dress (really? In 1918?) and suddenly there is a whole lotta Clara Bow's leg to be seen. But don't prude-out now, there is more to come!

Mary emerges, but Jack is leaving with his dizzy French dame, so, naturally, there is a cat fight. This leads to a "bubble-off," with each lady shimmying Jack's drunk bubbles out of their garments. Mary wins, but, to be honest, she has a bit of an unfair advantage in an ahead-of-it's-time flapper dress covered in sequins. A blind man would see bubbles coming off that. Jack picks her and they stumble off to his hotel room. More bubble antics (these are starting to wear thin, so, of course, the children love it.) Finally, Jack kisses her, falls asleep and she goes through his pockets, because we guess that makes sense. She find Sylvia's picture. Oh the horror! More silent film mood faces; anger, crying, eventual forgiveness. It's hard to keep up, but the end result is that Mary sets up a screen so that sleeping Jack can't see her changing out of her shiny flapper dress and back into her motor pool uniform. Seems she forgot about the camera man and suddenly we are staring, full-on, at Clara Bow's....ummmm....bows. Us and some passing MPs who don't bother to knock. They scold her for being naked in some dude's room and send her packing back home. Henry and Erin are rather shocked but the children just want to know why all these people are being so noisy in Jack's room. The man is trying to sleep.

OK. We are back at the front and it is the eve of the big battle. (The Battle of Saint-Mihiel for all you history fans out there.) Jack and David take the opportunity to brawl regarding Sylvia. This leads to some extremely heavy-handed foreshadowing regarding David's death. (Of course, you all knew it was coming.) He fights with Jack, who then refuses to give him the "O.K." that he always gives him when they take off. He forgets his good-luck teddy bear that his parents gave him. He says stuff about not making it back and making sure Jack gives his parents the medals he has acquired. There really is no other ending here. But Wings is gonna take it's time getting there.

In some marvelously meticulous and detailed battle scenes, we get to witness the grisly and ugly reality of trench warfare. Folks get shot, soldiers blow up, a man gets run over by a tank. Or rather, a camera gets run over by a tank, giving us a ring-side seat to the slaughter. It is relentless, and it goes on and on and on. Jack completes his mission, but loses David in the clouds. He is still mad at him about the whole Sylvia thing, but he kinda looks worried. Meanwhile, David gets shot down (duh, we all knew this was coming.). He also gets wounded in the shoulder, crashes into a river, and is shot at again by an entire battalion of Germans. He still escapes into some nearby woods. This is about the time that our 3-year-old can't take it anymore and falls asleep.

Jack returns to base, and is present when a cocky and foolhardy German pilot buzzes by to drop a note (held by the tiniest, cutest parachute you have ever seen) informing all that he has killed David, over by the river, and it was awesome. Cue the evil laughter. Naturally, a very angry Jack, crazed with revenge, takes to the skies and basically wins World War I by himself. He takes out hordes of Germans, including the folks who shot David by the river. They are still hanging around there for some reason. He kills everyone he comes across and this does not bode well when we flash to David, still alive somehow, stealing a German plane and heading straight for Allied airspace.

Remember that we told you about those huge iron crosses on German planes? Yep, well, Jack, returning from his spree of carnage, spies this huge iron cross and starts shooting at the plane. We all know that it is David and are thus treated to anguished and heartbreaking shots of David screaming at his friend to please stop shooting at him. It is awful and goes on forever. Well, until Jack shoots David, again in the shoulder, and his plane goes crashing into the side of a nearby house. The residents carry him inside and he is, somehow, still alive, if barely. Jack lands and starts to cut the iron cross off the side of the crashed German plane, as a war prize. The owners of the now 3-walled house call him over and he finally realizes what we have known for what feels like hours. He just shot down his best friend. The iron cross slips out of his hand and he cradles David, who immediately forgives him. Henry, Erin, and our 5-year-old all agree that we would be slightly more pissed off. Jack and David both rail against the Germans, leading to some uncomfortable subtitles that we are glad our son can't read yet. Jack kisses David (in the first man to man kiss ever on film, that turns out to be simply loving and clearly between friends) and David finally dies, as we flash to the slowing propeller on the plane in the yard. Jack stands up and carries his friend outside, stepping on the iron cross war prize as he does, and they make their way out the door. It is a powerful, strong ending scene.

Which, of course, means that it isn't the last scene of the movie! We have a scene where Jack finally reads the back of his Sylvia picture, learning the truth we have known all movie; she loved David the whole time. Jack heads home to a parade, which makes sense given that he basically won the war himself there at the end. He meets with David's parents, who seem to know how their son died. He hands them the teddy bear and David's medals. They forgive him, which again seems really fast to the three of us, but I guess they are just a very forgiving family. Jack heads over to his place and messes with his car for a bit. Mary pops over the wall and there is some long-awaited romance. They see a shooting star, they smooch, and we fade to THE END.

Our final impressions vary. The youngests' are "ZZZZZ;" 2 of them are sound asleep. Guess Wings isn't really for the toddler set. Our 5-year-old thinks that it would be really easy to shoot your friend if he was in the wrong plane, so maybe you shouldn't shoot anyone in the first place. We don't feel like having a war discussion at what is now 9pm, so we agree. He has a solid point. Erin found it very strong as a film; the camera work especially was inventive and fascinating. All aspects were clearly researched and our director was obviously knowledgeable; which makes sense given that William A. Wellman actually flew during World War I. Now, you must also know that William was not known to like actors very much, found them a bit of an annoyance if the truth be told, so the technical aspects of the film do feel a bit stronger than the love triangle/square. The war scenes still seem as harrowing and dangerous as we imagine they seemed at the time, but the love scenes are a little thin. Not awful, just not a whole lot there for folks to work with. It is still a solid, very good film. And as a war film, it clearly set the bar so high that folks are still shamelessly stealing parts of it for modern war films. Henry found the presentation of war to be complicated and mostly even-handed, which makes sense given that it was directed by someone who had actually been there. Overall, we would have totally nominated Wings for Best Picture of the Year. But would we have voted for it to win? Well, you will just have to wait and see. We'll decide after we see the other 5 films that were up that year.....

Now, I think we told you guys that stuff was done differently in 1928. Flappers are weird. There were 2 categories of best picture and each had 3 films in it. We will be combining them for our review because it is more accurate. It is also easier and we are lazy. Speaking of lazy, not all the early nominated films are widely available. For the 1928 Academy Awards, we will have DVD access to 4 out of 6. We are still gonna talk about the other 2 because we like to talk and we love to talk about obscure film. We are rather nerdy that way. So, stay tuned! Next week we are taking on The Racket, Howard Hughes' controversial film about corrupt cops that was actually banned in Chicago upon its release. You know the crazy is upped just by association with Howard Hughes. Should be a wild time, so bring some Kleenex and meet us back here next Friday! Save us a center seat!