In attempting to complete this assignment, I have realized anew just how
eclectic my taste in movies is. My list of all-time favorites include such
disparate cities as The Commitments, Cinema Paradiso, The Philadelphia Story,
Raising Arizona, Excalibur, The Fisherr King and The Princess Bride.
Considering such a list, I think it’s fair to say that no one particular genre
appeals to me above others. In order to encompass such a variety. I would have
to create a new genre. I think it would fall under the heading of quality films.
When I choose a movie, I may be looking for entertainment. enlightenment, humor
or escape from the everyday, depending on my mood. But whatever my choice is, I
demand that it be done well. I expect a flim to say what it has to say as
clearly and flully as possible, with as much of a particular human experience as
can be revealed in the time allowed.
For the purpose of this paper, I have decided to look briefly at three films
which I believe do exactly that: The Lion in Winter, A Hard Day’s Night
and Rosencrantz and Gildenstem are Dead.
In the 1968 film version of James Goldman’s play The Lion in Winter,
the subject is the story of the Plantagenets, England’s royal family in the late
12th century. The Plantagenets were actually French by birth and inclination,
Henri II being a great-grandson of William the Conqueror. Alianor d’Aquitaine
(commonly anglicized as Eleanor) was Queen of France before she met Henri
Plantagenet Their love affair was the scandal of medieval Europe. perhaps on a
par with that of Abelard and Heloise, who were contemporaries. Henri and Alianor
moved heaven arid earth to obtain an annulment of her marriage to Louis VII of
France, whereupon they worked together to achieve his bid on the English throne
by the time he was 21 years old. The film is set near the end of Henri’s life,
when the young lovers have become, through many years of hardship and betrayals
on both sides, bitter enemies. The heir to the throne, young prince Henri, has
died and the king and queen are in violent conflict over which of their
remaining three sons will get the crown. Add to this the fact that Henri has
imprisoned his queen in Salisbury Tower for the ten years previous to this
Christmas court and it makes for some quite lively conversations, i.e. battles,
round the Yule log.
James Goldman’s screenplay, a faithful rendering of his stage play, has some
of the most exquisitely-turned language I’ve seen in modem film. The ensemble
cast, featuring Peter O’Toole and Katharine Hepburn in the lead roles and
Anthony Hopkins as Richard-the-Lion-Hearted, is outstanding and Anthony Harvey’s
direction is the kind I like best: virtually invisible. He simply steps back and
creates space for the characters and the words of the playwright to breathe and
be.
I first saw this film when I was in high school and when I found out that it
was based on the lives of actual historical figures I was fascinated. I
have since read 2 books about Alianor d’Aquitaine and find her a truly
extraordinary personage. I have found that the film, high drama that it is,
pales in comparison with the actual lives of its characters. At one point,
Goldman has King Henri say "My life, when it is written, will read better than
it lived." I’m quite sure that was the case.
Though the humor in the film is dark, the kind that comes from surviving
great hardships and the loss of trust and love, somehow for me it is much richer
and more redemptive than other kinds of humor. The film, and in particular the
performances of O’Toole and Hepburn, fully capture the depth of a long, complex
relationship between two people who, in spite of all the bitterness, still share
an intimacy and knowledge of each other as equally matched forces. It hardly
ever gets this good.
When A Hard Day's Night debuted in 1964, Beatlemania was at its height
and the film critics were sitting at home, sharpening their quills, with the
hope that they could puncture this crazy fad and show these long-haired English
kids for the artistic frauds they were. I couldn’t be more pleased to say that
they failed utterly. Nearly 40 years after the release of this film, the
Beatles’ music is still played, still relevant, and the film itself is
considered a rock and roll classic.
Not wanting to duplicate the dismal lack of quality in previous pop music
movies (i.e. the Elvis movies and Beach Blanket Bingo-type vehicles), the
Beatles shrewdly chose Richard Lester as their director and Alan Owen as
screenwriter, based on the strength of their work in British comedy. Owen’s
Oscar-nominated script has such an effortless, natural feel to it that many
speculated that the film’s dialogue was mostly ad-libbed by the Beatles
themselves. Actually, there were roughly 12 ad-libs in the whole film. What we
have here is an exaggerated day in the life of the Beatles at the height of
their touring days. We see that being the most popular band in the world has its
drawbacks as the boys are shuffled from train to press conference to TV studio,
all without time for a meal or a bath. Lester gives the film a claustrophobic
feeling in many scenes, giving the impression — quite correctly — that the
Beatles hadn’t room to breathe.
Along for the ride is Paul McCartney’s grandfather of whom Paul says "He’s a
king mixer. And he’ll cost you a fortune in breach-of-promise cases." The
wonderful irony about this character is that in the ossified world of the
British establishment, the younger generation is viewed as a lot of rebellious
troublemakers. But throughout the film, it’s consistently Paul’s granddad who
stirs up mischief
I’m especially fond of the absurdity of Liverpudlian humor. Paul’s
grandfather is constantly referred to by all and sundry as a "clean old man".
This is a play on the "dirty-old-man" stereotype, which the old flirt clearly
represents. In another instance, the Beatles’ manager, stirred up by Grandpa
McCartney accuses his assistant of being taller than he is on purpose: "Your
grandfather pointed out that Shake was always bein' taller than me just to spite
me!" This kind of humor may be an acquired taste for some, but it’s one of my
favorite flavors.
Wilfred Brambell, as Paul’s grandfather, is by turns endearing and
infuriating Norm Rossington plays the long-suffering manager, convinced that his
job is no more than a "battle of nerves" between himself and John Lennon. His
assistant, Shake, played by John Junkin, points out wryly, "John hasn’t got
any." "What?" Norm asks. "Nerves," Shake replies. Add to this a paranoiac,
passive-aggressive TV director played by Victor Spinetti, and you have an
excellent supporting cast. The Beatles are, inimitably, the Beatles.
A Hard Day’s Night is a perfectly preserved bubble in time. It’s a
fresh look at the world through the eyes of young people who know in their bones
that it is time for a change and have the energy to bring it about. Prom
beginning to end the film says that anything is possible, that life is a lark
and that laughter and good music can lead to great things. Why not?
At the other end of the spectrum we find Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrarnz and
Guildenstern are Dead a film truly in a class by itself, because there’s
nothing to compare it to. It is literally a play within a play in which two
minor characters from William Shakespeare’s Hamlet are wandering
about in an afterlife which replays the events of their earthly life. In
Ham/cc Rosencranrz and Guildenstern are schoolfellows of Prince Hamlet’s
whom the king and queen have given the unhappy task of finding out what they can
about the source of Hamlet’s melancholy. For their pains, Hamlet accuses them of
treachery, treats them badly and has them executed. Such is the life of
incidental characters in Shakespearean tragedy.
Stoppard’s film finds Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (played by Gary Oldman and
Tim Roth, respectively) once again called to the Danish court to attend on their
prince and somehow it all feels familiar, yet they cannot quite grasp what is
wrong. As scene by scene of the original play goes by the main characters wonder
why they have trouble remembering things and why they can’t simply leave this
dismal place in which dark intrigues and hidden motives flow more freely than
the wine the Dames use to drown every sorrow. Again and again they grasp among
fragments of memory and come up with nothing.
The only character in the play that seems to realize what is going on is The
Players played by Richard Dreyfuss. He makes cryptic remarks and
it’s all too dear that he knows where the action is headed. When questioned by
Guildenstern as to the source of his knowledge, he says only "We’ve been here
before."
Much speculation about death takes place in the course of the film and yet
when the play reaches its logical conclusion and they meet their unhappy end,
the two protagonists seem just as surprised as they must have been the first
time. This raises the question of just how many times has the play been replayed
in the afterlife? Is this only the first rime, or are they doomed to repeat the
same actions, the same mistakes and never remember? Is redemption possible?
The Player sums up this existentialist view of life (and afterlife)
with these words:
