Quiz Show (1994)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Quiz Show (1994) – R. Redford

Have I over-rated this film? I think not.  As a morality play, set in the early days of television as a growing mass-medium, it interrogates the psychology of its characters, the contestants’ motivations (and rationalisations) for accepting the offer to cheat (on the game show Twenty-One), as well as the producers’ greed and anti-Semitism.  The tension created by director Robert Redford (rest in peace) is real, as federal investigator Dick Goodwin (Rob Morrow) starts honing in on the deception, aided by a developing relationship with Charlie Van Doren (Ralph Fiennes) supported by their shared Ivy League backgrounds (Harvard for Goodwin – with Morrow sporting a terrible Boston accent; Columbia for Van Doren, son of noted poet Mark Van Doren).  Van Doren famously beat Jewish Herbie Stempel (John Turturro), purportedly because the producers (and sponsor Geritol, headed by Martin Scorsese) wanted a more attractive WASPish winner.  Did Redford take notes while acting in All the President’s Men? This film does not reach the dynamic heights of that thriller but the structure feels similar. Reflecting back on this time in the early ‘90s, it is hard to remember that Fiennes was just fresh from his triumph in Schindler’s List, Morrow was a TV star (Northern Exposure) seeking to make the leap to the big screen (unsuccessfully), and Turturro was already an established character actor (for Spike Lee and the Coen Brothers). It seems like a lifetime ago – and the quiz show scandal seems like ancient history, though I recall watching The Joker’s Wild as a child, not realising it was host Jack Barry’s comeback after a decade in the wilderness following the scandal of Twenty-One.  Engrossing.  

 

Pulp Fiction (1994)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Pulp Fiction (1994) – Q. Tarantino

There are parts of Pulp Fiction that have not aged well or perhaps they were always flaws (excessive use of profanity including the N word, glamorisation of drug use and violence, Tarantino's own very bad acting), but on the whole, those things that made it feel fresh in 1994 still work. I still chuckled at Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta (two hit men) discussing foot massages and the Royale with cheese, the nonlinear narrative structure and triptych of stories creates interest rather than confounds, and the soundtrack is cracking and perfectly edited into the picture.  One wonders how much writing partner Roger Avary contributed (his career shared similar sensibilities but has not taken off in the same way).  Although the title says it all, and allows us to accept that the stories here will wallow in the gutter a bit, there is still a degree of crassness in Tarantino that might masquerade as hep coolness, cherishing bad grindhouse features, but is also still sexist, homophobic, racist or what-have-you (not that these prejudices all contaminate Pulp Fiction -- but they aren’t shied away from in Tarantino’s oeuvre either; perhaps he feels authentic by not hiding them away?).  But perhaps I’m denigrating Pulp Fiction too much – it is still a pop entertainment, not seeking depth or anything more than relishing a fanboy’s joy at paying homage and tweaking classic film noir genres (the boxer who throws the fight or doesn’t, the hitman who has a moment of clarity, the fixer who averts crises for the gang, the Deliverance style bad trip that brings foes together, the hitman who takes his boss’s wife out and screws up, and so on) and tipping us to the music he loves. (Not to mention his goal of reinvigorating careers, such as with Travolta’s ace turn here).  Did Tarantino continue to feel such joy in filmmaking as he progressed in his career?  Sometimes yes, maybe sometimes no.  I haven’t seen his latest yet but will be interested to see if he has transcended his limitations by now. 

  

Sátántangó (1994)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Sátántangó (1994) – B. Tarr

Perhaps I cheated by watching this 7.5 hour (12 part) film over a week's time. But its amazing long takes, during which the camera stands stock still or pans slowly around characters, close to objects and sometimes into darkness, bear a lot of scrutiny. The stunning b&w images and very physical repetitive soundtrack make watching the movie akin to staring at a painting listening to drone music. The plot is continually mysterious, as information is only gradually imparted to the viewer (from multiple perspectives). This is either about the collapse of a collective farm (due to idiocy it seems) or allegorically about the fall of communism in Hungary and the loose ends its people found themselves at or even more allegorically about humanity duped by the false messiah. With a tango structure. Astonishing.