Days of Heaven "Trying to understand why (Days of Heaven's) characters said "yes" is where the unique interest lies."

Watching Days of Heaven was an experience unlike any I have had before. I think I about threw up from all the gut-wrenching drama - a distressing nausea I embraced.

I got to watch the wonderful mind of writer-director Terrence Malick (The New World, The Thin Red Line) at work and finally see what all those David Gordon Green comparisons were about. There is a splendid and awe-inspiring poetry to Malick's films. While his films follow a narrative structure, they pause for the beauty of nature, stolen moments in the characters' lives, and alternatively plain-spoken and poetic or philosophical voice overs.

For the first time, I saw a Malick film in which there was a singular narrative voice-over. Bill (Richard Gere) and Abby's (Brooke Adams) daughter ( tells the story of how they left Chicago and headed out west to work the fields of a wealthy, lonely farmer (Sam Shephard). The farmer is dying. He begins to fall for Abby. Soon, Bill is urging Abby to wed him so they can become rich off of his money once he passes. But he lives longer than anyone expected and the growing tensions between the three create the gut-wrenching drama I mentioned earlier.

Brooke Adams is not very attractive to me (I think it's her mouth line that does it for me), so I had to look through the eyes of the men in the movie. And I began to see some of that indescribable "somethin'" she possessed. I still wouldn't have married the woman, but that's mostly because I knew the scheme.

Because I knew the scheme, I felt pain for the farmer that he could not yet understand. Here was this supporting character that's only shortcoming was that he fell for the wrong woman. I liked Bill and Abby in spite of their awful sins, but I really pulled for the farmer. What a great guy! What a raw deal!

A dramatic question was posed by the film (would you push you lover into a new marriage for money?) that reminded me of another dramatic question that still rushes through my mind every so often (The Big Chill asked if you would push your husband into impregnating a friend). These questions wielded much different results in their respective movies. I can assuredly answer "no" to both, but trying to understand why each film's characters said "yes" is where the unique interest lies.

****

Casablanca

Casablanca is a classic for a reason. It is well written and well acted. It's fun and dramatic at the same time. Bogart basically plays the Bogart persona, but that's okay because Bogart is cool. The real thrill is the script. It is full of all these famous lines, but they are truly lines that deliver upon their promises. The film is truly satisfying as entertainment. But real skill is obviously involved in the staging of all this intrigue and character development.

My big complaint is the flashback of Elsa and Rick's romance in Paris. It's the worst acted scene of the film and only takes me out of the incredibly interesting present. I understand that the flashback sets up much of the background of both Rick and Elsa's current personalities, but the execution of the scene is just too much of a bump for me. This, along with the place in the present the flashback occurs, takes me out of the story too much.

But a classic is a classic and no amount of my nitpicking is really going to blemish a film deserving of that designation. Casablanca is just such a film.

****

The Third Man

The Third Man is one of the best movies I have ever seen. Unlike the initial over- admiration that eventually turns into general acceptance of a job well done that seems to plague my movie critiques, I foresee a long love affair with The Third Man. Style out the wazoo. Those camera angles. That lighting. Orson Welles underplaying it for a change. One of the best endings ever. I think it's all there, preserved for those of us waiting to see an old film that truly stands the test of time. The cinematography alone makes the film one of the best cinema has to offer.

*****

The Maltese Falcon

The Maltese Falcon was a really fun movie to watch. The dialogue is quick and sharp, full of phrasings not used in everyday life, but ever present in the noir genre. The Maltese Falcon screams noir, but does so in a calm, cool manner. I am not personally one who subscribes to the Bogart is a god form of a parasocial relationship. He's always been a relic of the classic era that I have distanced from myself over recent years. But he is good, no, very good, in The Maltese Falcon. I never thought of the man as being capable of cool, but he is so cool that sheep count him (yo, Mamet).

The Femme Fatale, the gun heavy, and the mysterious man behind it all (in this case, “The Fat Man”) are all present. Twists and turns abound. Loyalties change as quickly as the words shoot out of Bogart's mouth. Truth be told, the film shows some age. It fits perfectly with the genre and the time of its release, but the slow pacing and long revelatory speeches don't generally happen or work well in modern films. Indeed, attention spans must have been longer 60 odd years ago. That having been said, I was interested in this film the whole way through, though the final payoff was not as big as I had anticipated or hoped for.

Side note: it was fun to see all the references Brick (2005) had made to The Maltese Falcon. There are several homages in Rian Johnson's film. The long-short-long-short horn signal was the same as a knocking signal in The Maltese Falcon. A conversation with the Principal in Brick held the same spirit as a conversation with the D.A. In The Maltese Falcon. There were others as well.

So, The Maltese Falcon was fun. I loved the script's crackling dialogue and Bogart's performance. I wish the payoff had been better. But it still gets a big recommendation from me. That's saying a lot because I don't usually tout the merits of older films. So, take heart, readers.

***1/2