Top Rentals of 2009

While, more or less, the films of 2009 have been generally disappointing, the best of my film rentals from previous years were everything 2009 wasn't: exciting, electric, and thought provoking. I find that the older and crankier I get, the harsher my grading becomes, so color me surprised that I ended up with seven A-worthy films (two of which came over the same weekend!) at the end of the year. Without further ado, here are, in a rough descending order, the 22 best film rentals I saw in 2009. If you haven't seen these films, I urge you to stop everything you are doing and check them out now. Why suffer through 2009's shit crop of bad films when you can enjoy these flicks?

A's
Masculin féminin
Jean-Luc Godard's wild mix of sexual politics, male/female relationships, war and 60's pop culture is both the precursor to his wacky later political films like Week End and Tout Va Bien and the main reason why I want to live in 60's France. Breathless may be Godard's masterpiece from a technical stand point, but Masculin féminin is simply my favorite from his massive filmography. Bonus points: Jean-Pierre Léaud's best non-Antoine Doinel performance.

I'll Cry Tomorrow
A clinically insane biopic of alcoholic Lillian Roth led by a ballsy, go-for-broke performance from Susan Hayward. I don't think Intervention has ever made alcoholism look this disgusting and degrading. My original thoughts here.

The Servant
The male precursor to Bergman's Persona. Young playboy James Fox hires my imaginary boyfriend Dirk Bogarde as his butler but, eventually, relationship dynamics change to the point that we are not sure who is the master and who is the slave anymore. The third act is so indescribably nutsy it has to be seen to be believed.

Ballad of a Soldier
Between this and The Cranes Are Flying, it appears that the go-to country for dreamy romantic melodramas in the late 50's was, of all places, the Soviet Union.

A Woman is a Woman
The random in-jokes, the way the characters play to the camera and the free-flow narrative all on display in Godard's New Wave homage to the musical exemplifies why I love his work.

Salò, or The 120 Days of Sodom
I still have nightmares about this film. If you think you've seen it all, try watching Salò without getting the urge to vomit. My original thoughts here.

Design for Living
The charming and dapper Gary Cooper and Fredric March match wits with the perpetually underrated Miriam Hopkins in this utterly hilarious (and quite risqué) Ernst Lubitsch comedy.

A-'s
Chungking Express
The first Wong Kar-wai film I've seen that I fell hook, line and sinker for. The two sequences could hardly be any more different, but they both beautifully portrayed the heartbreak and pain that goes with being in love.

Nanook of the North
The first big "documentary" (there's still quite a bit of debate about that) also happens to be one of the most entertaining and all-around engrossing films of the silent era. Who knew that Eskimoes lived such fascinating (and perilous) lives?

Two for the Road
If you get past the annoying British New Wave camera tracks, you will be surprised to discover a smart, mercilessly funny film chronicling the ups and downs of marriage. Audrey Hepburn has never been better, both as an an actress and as a style icon (oh that big hair and those sunglasses!) and Albert Finney was surprisingly bearable, even engaging in his best moments.

The King of Comedy
Minus The Departed, this is probably the most fun I've ever had with a Scorsese film. The satire is dead-on and timelier than ever in today's web-based celebrity culture.

Beaches
Given its camp reputation (and the fact it stars Bette Midler and directed by Gerry Marshall), I expected a shameless melodrama in the vein of The Notebook. Well color me surprised at how emotionally honest and unmanipulative Beaches is. When the tearjerking finale came about, it earned whatever tears it was able to generate.

Valentino
Another fantastic film about the perils of celebrity. Ken Russell's biopic of Rudolph Valentino may not be historically accurate, but it's one of the few films I've seen that truly captures the spirit and insanity of 1920's Hollywood.

Joshua
Sam Rockwell and Vera Farmiga star in this indie horror movie about the horror of a family breaking up amidst an upper-class surroundings. I was so entranced by this movie I kept it an extra day and watched it again; it did not disappoint on a second viewing. My original thoughts here.

The Marriage of Maria Braun
I really need to see more Fassbinder films because I'm two for three so far and the only one I wasn't crazy about (Querelle) at least had Brad Davis as a hunky homosexual sailor who gets fucked in the ass. Maria Braun boasts a fantastic lead performance from Hanna Schygulla as a headstrong woman trying to survive the aftermath of Nazi Germany.

Intruder in the Dust
A quiet, unassuming and surprisingly down-to-earth take on race relations in post-WWII America from, of all studios, MGM. For people appalled by Hollywood's treatment of blacks during the Studio Era, seek this one out to get the bitter taste out of your mouth.

2 Days in Paris
When talking about 2007's cinematic treats, why does no one talk about this gem of a romantic comedy starring and directed by Julie Delpy? Another underrated film I cannot recommend enough.

Kings and Queen
I wasn't as entranced by it as I was by A Christmas Tale, but Desplechin's film before that masterpiece ain't too shabby either. Emmanuelle Devos has such a tricky character to navigate (it's never quite clear whether she is the martyr or the villain of this piece) but she nails it without so much as breaking a sweat.

Best of the B+'s
Hiroshima, Mon Amour
I was expecting a pretentious "art" film that I would struggle to get through but, instead, ended up with a heartbreaking doomed romance that I couldn't get enough of.

Tokyo Story
I've seen a couple other Ozu films and was decidedly underwhelmed by them. Tokyo Story, on the other hand, completely captivated me. Setsuko Hara was an unexpected delight as the dutiful sister who is the only sibling who doesn't blatantly ignore her parents when they make the journey from their country home to the city to visit them.

Two English Girls
Truffaut's massively underrated tragedy about a Frenchman (Jean-Pierre Léaud) who spends years romantically involved with two sisters. Perpetually downbeat, Two English Girls is almost too heartbreaking to watch. Bonus points: the costumes are absolutely to die for. I seriously want JPL's wardrobe.

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie
This film is worth it simply for the final scene, a verbal throwdown between Dame Maggie Smith's shady teacher and Pamela Franklin as her disgruntled former student wise to her manipulative ways. The inspirational teacher drama with a twist.

8 Things I Love About Susan Hayward in I'll Cry Tomorrow

A couple of weeks ago, I re-screened I'll Cry Tomorrow, Susan Hayward's 1955 Academy Award-nominated vehicle. My first viewing of this film a couple of years ago was a bit wonky (the tape stopped recording 40 minutes in and I missed probably 15 minutes in the middle) and I've grown to appreciate Susan Hayward so much more in that time so I decided this film was in need of another look. And boy am I ever glad I did that. On the surface, I'll Cry Tomorrow may not seem like anything more than your typical Oscar-bait biopic, but it's actually one of the few films about alcoholism that shows the dark, gritty and positively disgusting underbelly of the disease. Sure, the film does this in the most glamorous way possible, but it's positively riveting to watch.

The film is a solid A, but the woman who gets the most credit for that is Susan Hayward. Her performance and acting style is not for every one, but if you're lucky enough to love it, I'll Cry Tomorrow is a sight to behold. Because it left such an impression on me and I want as many people as possible to seek out this movie, here are eight reasons why Susan Hayward is utterly fantastic in I'll Cry Tomorrow.


Susan Hayward-isms If you've seen a Susan Hayward musical number before, then you know that she has certain, um, characteristics that pop up over and over again in them. Mainly, she uses her arms and makes the same five poses, or a variation of them, throughout the entire number. I know the word "genius" is thrown around a lot (especially by me) and it's meaning has been diluted a bit, but that is the only word in the English language that is applicable to Susan Hayward's ability to turn these ridiculously hammy hand gestures into something that works even half as well as it does in her first musical number, "Sing You Sinners." And that's not even talking about the way she occasionally tosses her head back with that big ole cheesy grin plastered on her face. If you're unprepared, these signature bits may throw you off and automatically write off Susan Hayward's acting ability, but once it clicks, you won't be able to get them out of your head. Genius, indeed.

Subtle Comic Timing I was HOWLING at the 20 second mark of this clip.


Knows the Importance of Being Fabulous At All Times I'm not going to reveal what event is the trigger of Hayward's character's alcoholism, but I think it's important to note that even after this traumatic event, Hayward still finds it's necessary to lie around in her bed with her hair all done and makeup applied perfectly. She's Susan Hayward, damnit; there's no way she's looking like a commoner!

"When the Red, Red Robin Comes Bob, Bob Bobbin' Along" Another example of why Susan Hayward's musical numbers at the shit, yo. She is completely rocking those twirls at the end.


Monologue at 1:16 “He’s alright…he’s fine. He’s a real doll. Our maid left this morning because I’m such a drunk. Everybody feels sorry for him. Nobody feels sorry for me. Yup, there’s drunks and there’s drunks. You see, I’m what you call an ‘adorable drunk.’ He…he’s mean! Maybe you can tell me, mister. Why is it when some men get drunk, they get mean, real mean? And then, and then, they next day, they’re sorry. So sorry. He’s great, he’s, he’s my husband….he’s a doll. Got the scars to prove it. Oh well! That’s okay with me. I’m no good. I’m no good. That’s the way it’s gotta be. I’m just nothin’ but a hopeless drunk. Getting just what I deserve. Oh well. That’s life.”

Camp When describing a performance, the word "camp" often gets a bad connotation. But, when it's done right and the film's structure is loose enough to allow it, the results can be astounding. Just think of Bette Davis in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? or Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest and you'll see that camp does not always equal bad. This same principle can applied to Hayward's performance in I'll Cry Tomorrow. She's loud and larger than life, but she can get away with it since director Daniel Mann makes sure to scale back the entire film at certain points so she can just let loose with reckless abandon. It could have been a complete disaster, but Hayward knows how to camp it up like a true pro.


Voice over at 0:40 “Every night after that, I drank myself to sleep. I felt I no longer needed Katie’s reassurance- I was getting it out of the bottle! For the first time, I was completely secure on the stage. I was sure at last that they liked me and I deserved it. I was something! I was GLAMOROUS! I was the BEST singer IN THE WORLD!”

An Acting Style That is Both Misunderstood and Forgotten Today Going through Susan Hayward's Oscar-nominated work, it quickly becomes apparent that her acting style will be divisive, especially to modern-day viewers not familiar with the pre-Method Era style of acting she embodies. I know that when I first saw her films, I found it odd that this ham of an actress was a widely respected thespian. Over time, I've come to respect her audacity and sheer balls to be so batshit crazy over-the-top with any of her performances. With her big booming theatrical voice, sweeping gestures and go-for-broke desperation, Susan Hayward's performance in I'll Cry Tomorrow pierces through the doldrums of mid-50's American cinema like the a loud, menacing rocket launched into the atmosphere. When she's drunk, she's drunk, slurring her words and stumbling out of nightclubs with all the subtlety of a foghorn. And when she's desperately searching for a drink, not knowing where the hell she is, Hayward is fighting and scratching her way through dirt and grime and the most awful places imaginable to get some booze. It's not pretty and it's certainly not the most comfortable thing to sit through, but that's precisely why it works so well. With a method actress like Julie Harris in the role, I don't think the performance or I'll Cry Tomorrow as a whole would have worked so well. No doubt Harris would have been great, but I think there would have been too much internalization on her part, and the film completely relies on the showy, "surface" effects of alcoholism. With Harris (or any other Method actress), the film's depiction of alcoholism wouldn't have been as dirty or gruesome. Thank goodness Hayward was there with her unusual acting style to lead the way.

An Interrupted American Medley in My Heart

Last night, I was catching up on some random Oscar nominees I had my mother tape for me (what a saint!) and one of the numerous DVD's was Interrupted Melody, the 1955 biopic that netted Eleanor Parker a Best Actress Oscar nomination. Over the past year or so, I've grown quite fond of this lovely, under appreciated actress. She's probably best known as the Baroness in The Sound of Music (I've blocked most things associated with that pile of dreck so I sadly can't remember her performance) but she also earned well-deserved Oscar nominations for the women-in-prison drama Caged and the underseen Detective Story and she also impressed me as the crippled girlfriend of Frank Sinatra's heroin addict in The Man With the Golden Arm. Unfortunately for Parker and for us, there's nothing much in Interrupted Melody to do. Parker plays "beloved" (I use that word in quotes because I sure as hell don't know who she is) opera star Marjorie Lawrence who, after a bought with polio that crippled her, made a grand comeback to the Metropolitan Opera House (but not until she overcame a crippling stage fright, of course). The film is one of the ridiculous star biopics of the 50's in which only one interesting thing happens to the person, so the writers spent the rest of the time making up crap and adding scenes to give the film some kind of flimsy dramatic structure. The first half of the film has one of the worst structures I've ever seen. Basically, the story go from Eleanor Parker being humble to Eleanor Parker singing in some random opera to Eleanor Parker crying on the phone while talking to her family in Australia to Eleanor Parker singing in another random opera to Eleanor Parker making out with Glenn Ford to Eleanor Parker singing in yet another random opera...I think you get the idea. The second half of the film, after she comes down with polio, is a tad bit better, but it's still as trite as any material of this nature can be. Poor Eleanor. She really tries her hardest and technically she's quite proficient. That scene where she's forced to crawl on the ground to turn on the record player was excruciating and Parker never oversold it or explicitly cried out for us to sympathize with her. Plus, like Marion Cotillard in La Vie en Rose, her lip syncing was incredible. It may not seem like anything these days, but back in the Golden Age of Hollywood, when pretty actresses were forced to lip sync because their voices weren't up to par, most didn't give a shit and just mouthed the words. Not Parker. She obviously studied breath control and timing and, if you didn't know any better, you would think that that was her voice coming out of her mouth. But, unfortunately, Interrupted Melody doesn't give Parker any acting to do and she's just forced to go along with the cheap theatrics and ungodly amount of opera pieces.

During the second half of the film, however, I was constantly reminded of another Oscar nominated performance from the 1950's in a ridiculous star biopic about a "popular" singer who overcomes being a cripple (this time from a plane crash) and makes a grand comeback, performed by a largely forgotten, but still utterly amazing actress from the same era: Susan Hayward in With a Song in My Heart. The film is an utter piece of garbage, much like Interrupted Melody, and really plays into Hayward's worst tendencies as an actress (overly-stylized and hammy). The film does, however, have one A-MA-ZING moment right at the end that Interrupted Melody reminded me of. In the course of her comeback, Hayward performs for the troops during WWII and delivers this rousing patriotic medley that is absolutely shameless and Hayward is about as subtle as George Bush at a gay pride parade, but it gets me everytime I watch it. In fact, the first time I saw With a Song in My Heart (yes, I have unfortunately seen it more than once) I rewound this scene about 10-15 and watched it over and over again. It's so good that I almost don't mind Hayward's Best Actress nomination over Debbie Reynolds in Singin' in the Rain or Judy Holliday in The Marrying Kind. Almost. Here, have a look for yourself:

My Favorite Parts
1. Susan Hayward's very dramatic fist during the line "It's a great ole wonderful home sweet home."
2. The way Susan Hayward poses at the very end of the song about Chicago. So dramatic.
3. That really dramatic guy singing in the audience during "California, Here We Come"
4. "HOW ABOUT TEXAS?" "Well, how about it?" *cheeky smile* Oh Susan, you're such a ham, but I still love you.
5. That really weird guy clapping away in the audience and his stupid grin during the song about Virginia.
6. "For you...anything." I wish I had the chance to say that more often, with that same inflection, and people would know what the hell I was talking about.
7. The way How About Texas Guy interrupts the tender moment of Susan Hayward singing to that guy in the front row and her classic response: "Texas? Never heard of it!"
8. The Amazing Thelma Ritter joining in on "Deep In the Heart of Texas." What a lady.
9. The way everyone goes batshit crazy over "Dixie." It's a good song, I must admit, but unless you're from the South, I can't imagine going that insane over it (and I know all of them can't be from the South).