Deathtrap (1982)

Director: Sidney Lumet

Cast: Michael Caine, Christopher Reeve, Dyan Cannon, Irene Worth

Have I Seen it Before: Nope. I honestly hadn’t even heard of the film before seeing a review in an old episode of Siskel & Ebert. As I’m not allowed to recommend movies for podcasts based on those two gentlemen from Chicago—with good reason—I’m still free to watch films like that on my own, right?

Did I Like It: There’s two very obvious observations one can make about this film. First, it’s clear that Christopher Reeve is having a great time doing this film. He’ll never not be known as Superman, he’d likely never have been a movie star without Superman, and I think he probably liked being Superman. But your guy needed a break. And I can feel the happiness he must have felt when he read this script.

I can also see where this film tripped slightly at the box office. Trying to hit the 1980s moviegoing audience where their red and blue clad hero is a sociopathic writer who is lovers with Michael Caine. I’d like to say that we’re more evolved now, but I can swing my arms and hit somebody on the internet who would set their hair on fire if Henry Cavill kissed a man on film today.

The film itself packs a fair amount of surprises, although most of those occur in the film’s first half. I legitimately thought that Sidney (Caine) had killed Clifford (Reeve). I figured the film wouldn’t have made use of a star only to off him in the first act, if for no other reason than Hitchcock got away with it the one time and it’ll never happen again. When he does return, I didn’t think that would be the shape of the film’s plot. Good on it, surprising me that effectively.

The rest of the film plays out a little by the numbers. Turnabouts are laid on top of turnabouts, only to have the whole film be somebody else’s play. It’s an unsatisfying ending, to be sure.

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)

Director: Brian Henson

Cast: Michael Caine, Dave Goelz, Steve Whitmire, Jerry Nelson

Have I Seen it Before: Let’s put it this way: the frequency of the phrase “who did not die” is uttered in my house would annoy everyone that isn’t my wife or I. It certainly annoys the cat, who, by the way, stepped on me as I wrote this sentence.

Did I Like It: What is the role of a movie? Is cinema the only predominantly American export, shifting hundreds of millions of dollars around for the sake of the shift? Are they the only endurable cultural time capsule we are capable of creating in the modern age, even when the contemporary ones mostly smack of insincerity? Or am I overthinking the whole exercise, and they are just another kind of entertainment, no different at their core than Gregorian chants or paintings of cherubs?

Na, I think it’s a third thing. We watched the movie on Christmas Eve, with a holiday season nearly behind us that threatened to bring any reasonable person I’m related to the brink of madness. I could have searched the entirety of human experience for something to turn the mood around, and would have come up short. I even bought British Christmas crackers to give it a shot, but it turns out low-grade explosives only work on the fourth of July, even when they come with fun paper hats.

But you want to know something? Caine’s perfectly calibrated, straight-faced performance, combined with a surprisingly faithful adaptation of the Dickens story, infused throughout with just the right amount of Muppets zaniness caused or hearts to grow, if not two sizes, than just enough to get to sleep and face another day of needless familial acrimony.

That’s what the movies are. Escape is too tidy a word, I think. They are a vehicle for transcending anguish, if even temporarily. One might think that the Muppets lost something after Jim Henson’s death, but I would say—at least at this point—the original magic was certainly still present.

Get Carter (1971)

Director: Mike Hodges

Cast: Michael Caine, Ian Hendry, Britt Ekland, John Osborne

Have I Seen it Before: Never, but oddly enough, I have the most profound memory of, the year 2000. I was a high school sophomore, knew I wanted to make movies, and the generally reviled remake with Stallone in the title role was released. In the absolutely transcendent collection of screenplays housed at the Tulsa Central Library* was a tiny paperback printing of the screenplay for this film. Absorbing every script I could get my hands on, I read it cover to cover. It seemed so cool, being lethal and uncaring, and more than willing to smooth everything over by throwing a few notes at the malcontents.

Those are the sorts of things with which a sixteen-year-old is impressed.

Did I Like It: And Caine is the height of cool in the movie as presented. Scowling and snakelike, it’s easy to forget with turns as Alfred Pennyworth and Ebenezer Scrooge to Muppets, it’s hard to forget he would have made a gutsy, spot-on James Bond back in the day.

The film, too, largely threads that tricky needle of appearing largely timeless. With it’s possibly British preoccupation with shadowy photography and subdued fashions, there are a few fleeting moments where the film feels like a product of the early seventies, but it is an early seventies that feels closer to our own time. It is a thin, ruthless film, not unlike it’s hateful protagonist.

But then, it also has a finale that is equal parts inevitable and surprising. For all of his bluster, Carter (Caine) is obliterated despite his successful revenge. Can a film be bleakly violent, and absolutely hopeless in its outlook, and somehow still deeply moral in its handling of fate? Probably not anymore.

And, in case you think that is more “old man yelling at a cloud” fodder, that was probably (and I thought was) true back in 2000 when Stallone took over the role and I was sixteen.

*Which, naturally, in the name of progress and renovation has been relegated to their basement, as some of the volumes clearly don’t look like they were published in the last six months. The books are still available, just not available to browse, so that the library can also have a flight simulator, apparently. It’s a crying shame. In other news: old man yells at cloud.

Austin Powers in Goldmember (2002)

Director: Jay Roach

Cast: Mike Myers, Beyoncé Knowles, Michael Caine, Seth Green

Have I Seen It Before?: More on that in a minute.

Did I like it?: Well, here we are again. The only thing that this movie has going for it is a sense of finality, trying to change the characters (sketches, really) enough that if the series were to continue things would never be the same.

But nothing in the films matters, so much so that it is impossible for jokes or gags to exist long enough to make us laugh.

The world is making an Austin Powers movie, complete with celebrity cameos, but the thought is quickly abandoned until the very end, just to fit one more celebrity cameo.

Dr. Evil hatches a plot, and it is forgotten almost as quickly.

A new villain, Goldmember (Myers) is introduced, and has shockingly little to do with the proceedings other than to be weirdly Swedish and eat his own skin.

A new love interest for Powers is introduced in the form of Foxxy Cleopatra (Knowles) and…

Well, she is the best part of the film, somehow managing to look not embarrassed by the proceedings, which should have automatically qualified her for some sort of special Academy Award.

Number Three (Fred Savage, peeking his head out of his grown-up actor retirement for just long enough to send him back to television directing) has a mole. That’s the whole joke. It is, thankfully, quickly forgotten.

Austin has something that might resemble an arc with his father, Nigel (Caine), but it never goes anywhere other than a needless revelation that Powers and Dr. Evil are actually brothers.

All of these notions are introduced and abandoned with the same level of energy that they could certainly put everything back the way they found it for a fourth film, and no one would care. If the world hadn’t moved on from yelling “Yeah, Baby!” to everyone they meet (just in time to start yelling “Why so Serious?” at everyone they meet), we might have had to sit through such a fourth film.

Which brings me to a forthright plea. So, please, Mr. Myers. Do not go back to this well. You’ve had a good run since then, and I’m not talking about the various Shreks or Gurus Love you might wander into. You’re a documentarian, with Supermensch: The Legend of Shep Gordon (2013), and a book, Canada. You were even in Inglourious Basterds (2009). You don’t need Austin Powers. We don’t need Austin Powers.

Batman Begins (2005)

Director: Christopher Nolan

Cast: Christian Bale, Michael Caine, Liam Neeson, Gary Oldman

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, man. Summer of 2005. The eventual release of this film and the abatement of the era of Schumacher were the only things getting me out of bed in the morning.

Did I Like It: It’s a strange thing from some different angles, but this movie is often overshadowed by the juggernaut that was The Dark Knight (2008). In some ways, that’s fair, as Nolan so succeeded with this freshman effort that he was subsequently given the same freedom to flex his creative muscles in the sequel that Tim Burton was given in Batman Returns (1992) and Schumacher (I guess) got in Batman & Robin (1997).

And it’s fair primarily in the sense that this film is somewhat mired in very basic film writing tools. There’s a big set piece at the end, featuring the monorail built by the Wayne family and Wayne Tower that is seeded in the films early minutes. There are a few call backs to early sections of the film that feel a little jokey. The dialogue for Ra’s Al Ghul (Neeson) that is far too on-the-nose villain speak. And there’s a moment that causes regular audiences—and even myself—enjoy, but in the verisimilitude Nolan is going out of his way to try to achieve, doesn’t make any sense. Why does Batman (Bale) use his first appearance to say “I’m Batman” when that seems like something that the media would attach to him after he begins to terrorize the underworld? Even the Zack Snyder films—a complete drag as they mostly are—manage to give the Dark Knight more of an urban legend quality. It is one of the few things that those films got right.

There’s also that sense, and I think it mainly comes from the Star Trek series, that if the second film in the series is the absolute best-case scenario for a film series, then it must be because there is something wrong with the first film. This really isn’t case, other than those nitpicks I indicated above. The film is interested in character development (even if some of the characters drift into archetypes, see above) and moving those characters forward. The toys, to borrow a term from Jack Nicholson, Batman uses are given origins that may not be realistic, but have a certain James Bondian logic.

The film would have scratched all of my various bat-itches by the end, and then there’s that final scene. I remember in the theater when Gordon (Oldman) turns over that playing card, I had an expression of pure joy. He was out there. And at that moment, he was all potential. The imagination tingled. It’s a great way to leave a film. Even now, when the rise of the Clown Prince of Crime in this series had been fully and delightfully realized (and had become the rallying cry of every idiot with a blu ray player until Joaquin Phoenix gave them something else to fixate on), it still sends a shiver down my spine.

It’s still a pretty great way to make a movie.

Interstellar (2014)

Director: Christopher Nolan

Cast: Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain, Michael Caine

Have I Seen It Before?: I’ve finally gotten around to see my big blind spot in the Nolan catalog.

Did I like it?: One needs to open any review of a Nolan movie by reminding oneself that there are few better craftsman working today than Nolan in terms of pure cinema. Only one man could pull Batman out of the cinematic depths, and his craft makes his one of the few films that managed to play in this rinky-dink town in 35mm.

So why does this movie not work for me as well as some of his other entries? The most obvious reason would be that I neglected to see it in the theaters, the venue for which Nolan ideally intended it. He’s steeped this film so firm the tradition of Kubrick, and if there is one thing I’ve learned from these reviews, it is that all things Kubrickian are best enjoyed on the largest screen possible.

Then again, my less than thorough acceptance of the film may have something to do with the fact that—as I write this review—we’re all spending at least some part of our day contemplating wearing masks and wondering how long our food supplies will last.

It may be the wrong time to take the film in, but it is a testament to the skills of Nolan that I think another chance is warranted. And the film itself does recommend itself to that second viewing. It’s meticulously designed, often visually stunning (if, again, derivative of Kubrick and 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), and acted with a far greater range of emotion than most movies that involve space travel and (spoilers) a magic bookshelf, and the sheer amount of surprises in the cast kept things lively throughout.

The Dark Knight (2008)

Director: Christopher Nolan

Cast: Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Aaron Eckhart, Michael Caine

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, yes.

Did I Like It: While my love for Tim Burton’s Batman (1989) is a pure love that can never be diminished or destroyed, it’s pretty hard to argue that this isn’t a superior film on every measurable level.

I’ve damned with faint praise some movies as being the best possible version of the material. Saban’s Power Rangers (2017) is the best possible film about Power Rangers. Halloween II (2009) is the best possible Halloween film directed by Rob Zombie. And—although I haven’t seen it yet—Bumblebee (2018) is likely the best possible film about Transformers.

So it is, too, that the middle-entry of Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy is the best possible Batman movie. Thing is, I love Batman, and therefore this film is instantly propelled into contention for one of the best movies of all time.

It’s odd having a verified classic that’s this new. There is the awkward period where every douchebag of woman born ran around yelling “Why So Serious?” like it was a symptom of Tourettes. It also illuminates how truly bad some of its contemporaries are. I remember that summer of 2008 being more positive about Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull than I had any right to be because I truly believed that it would age better with time. It didn’t, and now The Dark Knight was also a transcendent experience on first viewing and holds up under continued scrutiny.

Equal parts James Bondian adventure and epic Michael Mann crime drama, Nolan is not just imitating these forms, but can stand toe-to-toe with them. Gotham is always a city, and never a soundstage. Every character has a thoroughly and elegantly designed motivation and a scheme to accomplish their goal, until they run headlong into the one person who never met a plan he didn’t like to destroy. 

I love every inch of this film. But, my goal here is to provide some measure of criticism. I reach desperately for some flaw, and come up tragically short. All right, all right, there are two little editing things that never quite make sense to me, and that’s to be expected as somehow editing can become the one glaring flaw in Nolan’s body of work. 

First, I have no clue how Batman (Bale) arrives at Harvey’s (Eckhart) fundraiser to battle the Joker (Ledger). The camera turns, and all of a sudden, he’s there. Sure, The World’s Greatest Detective is a master of the disappearing act, but this particular stealthy entrance happens in the middle of a well-lit, heavily populated penthouse apartment. There isn’t even some kind of air vent he could have popped out of?

Second, it’s not at all clear if Sal Maroni (Eric Roberts) survived the wreck caused by Two-Face, or, if he didn’t survive, how Two-Face managed to walk away from the wreck.

Oh well. Given how the rest of the movie runs like the most exquisitely designed machine ever created, I don’t want to dwell on those nitpicks too much. I love this movie, and I’m glad I live in a world where it exists.