Goldfinger (1964)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Goldfinger (1964) – G. Hamilton

Not a Christmas movie, but easily the best of the Connery Bond films (at least as far as I recall them). Bond is charged with preventing bullion smuggler Auric Goldfinger (Gert Frobe) from robbing Fort Knox with the aid of the notoriously named Pussy Galore (Honor Blackman). Dated for sure, in its overt sexism and casual racism, but if you can look past that, you can find a thrilling action film where 007 uses all the gadgets that Q provides (especially in his new Aston Martin). Although Goldfinger himself cuts a rather lumbering figure, the real nemesis here is his bodyguard Oddjob (Harold Sakata), nearly indestructible and armed with a lacerating bowler hat.  Director Guy Hamilton (a stalwart for the franchise) takes us from Miami to Switzerland to Kentucky, splashing money on the screen where necessary, and keeping things moving (all important). The undeniable theme song (by Shirley Bassey) adds even more style to the proceedings. Connery is fit and a master of both hand-to-hand combat and the snarky one-liner. He's in peril more than once (to be expected) but I had forgotten the plot twist at the end. Brainless fare when you’ve burned out your brain at the end of the year.

Searching for Bobby Fischer (1993)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Searching for Bobby Fischer (1993) – S. Zaillian

Aito is really getting into chess now (he beats me nightly) which reminded me of this solid ‘90s film about a 7-year-old kid (and a whole subculture of kids) playing competitive chess in tournaments. Joe Mantegna and Joan Allen play the parents of Josh Waitzkin (played by Max Pomeranc) who wrestle with the moral quandaries put to them about their son’s social and emotional life and whether fostering his success is more for them or for him. Ben Kingsley and Laurence Fishburne play Josh’s two mentors, the classically trained but conservative taskmaster and the risky bullet player from Washington Square Park, respectively. Writer-Director Steve Zaillian keeps things moving (in his directorial debut) with the requisite tension (if not without some inescapable sports movie cliches). Dan Hedaya, Laura Linney, and William H. Macy show up in cameos.  You probably don’t really need to know anything about chess to enjoy this, but now that we do, the authenticity is discernible.  And after all, the film is based on a true story (co-written by the real Fred Waitzkin) and features clips of the real Bobby Fischer who is frequently name-checked as a future “destination” (for better and//or for worse) in the film.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) – A. Lee

First rewatch since it was released.  At the time, Chow Yun Fat and Michelle Yeoh were making their first crossover films, from Hong Kong to Hollywood.  Of course, this film was directed in Taiwan by Ang Lee who had already broken through with The Ice Storm and Sense and Sensibility (and would have future success with Brokeback Mountain). This film won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film (check this).  Although epic with beautiful cinematography, it also manages to capture something of the Shaw Brothers and the classic Hong Kong kung fu flick.  The pacing and regular fight scenes (albeit with wires) keep Lee’s interest in relationship drama at bay, although the complicated plot (complete with long flashbacks) does help to maintain viewer interest. Yeoh is great as always but Chow is too reserved, somehow losing his natural charisma (that featured so well in his films for John Woo).  Newcomer Zhang ZiYi holds her own with these two superstars. Worth another look.  

 

Ugetsu (1953)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Ugetsu (1953) – K. Mizoguchi

Mizoguchi doesn’t pull his punches. So even though he is recounting a ghost story (as one of two interwoven tales), we are still treated to a look at the brutal conditions of feudal Japan in the 16^th century. In particular, he shows us the awful fate of women – here the wives of the two protagonists (Kinuyo Tanaka and Mitsuko Mito) suffer either sexual violence or murder (you are forewarned). Things are barely better for Genjurô (Masayuki Mori) and Tôbei (Eitarô Ozawa).  Both are farmers but Genjurô has a side-line in pottery, using a hut-sized kiln to forge sake cups, jugs, and bowls. As war breaks out among the Samurai clans, they decide to sell their wares in the nearest town, discovering profits to be had. Tôbei longs to become a samurai himself and uses his share of the proceeds to buy some armor. Genjurô is seduced by a noble woman (Machiko Kyô), after delivering her purchases to her expansive but decaying manor.  Both neglect their wives, who suffer the fates described above. As the two tales unfold, our heroes find different fortunes – both transcending what could be expected from your standard reality (although Genjurô’s tale is clearly the more supernatural). Perhaps the censors (American) required Mizoguchi to tack on an unlikely “happy” ending but there is no escaping the downbeat nature of these tales of moon and rain.  (Sansho the Bailiff, 1954, would go even further into the horror of the times, with no relief). As a jidaigeki (period film), Ugetsu’s mise-en-scene and art direction are top notch – no sign of 1950s Japan anywhere and thus, we are transported to another time and land, where real and unreal mix.