I was very sorry to hear earlier this morning of the death at age 79 of a personal favorite of mine, Edward Woodward. Although he may still be best known for his roles in the acclaimed fact-based war drama, “Breaker Morant,” the espionage/crime-vigilante TV series, “The Equalizer,” and by our friends in England as the cynical, super-tough spy “Callan,” his role in what was once a fairly obscure cult film all but buried by its studio, the 1973 “The Wicker Man,” is getting the lion’s share of attention in most of his press obituaries, that’s including the very touching one issued by the BBC this morning.

“The Wicker Man” has been one of my favorite movies since I was teenager and remains so now — not even the worst imaginable remake can touch that film, and that proposition has now been tested. Still, my admiration of the actor Woodward goes well beyond one single role. He was the kind of performer you could rely on to be great in anything and so he was on countless television programs. A master of understatement who knew when and how to go big (the oft-spoiled ending of “The Wicker Man” being a case in point), he was a real virtuoso whose un-showy approach probably doomed him to being underrated to a certain degree. Still, he didn’t seem to mind and judging from the press accounts I’ve been reading, he was a real gentleman and as fun to be around as his best known characters were definitely not. He was also, by the way, an accomplished Shakespearian stage actor and a fair-to-middling pop singer. It’s a shame he rarely got to do either on screen, though his voice can be heard to powerful effect during the final scene of “Breaker Morant.” (If you don’t mind learning the fate of his title character, or already know it from history, you can see the conclusion here.)

Two of his more devoted fans appear to have been Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg, who were smart enough to cast Woodward in “Hot Fuzz,” and you can read their thoughts at Wright’s blog and via a message board post by Pegg. (Big h/t to Beaks.) Wright’s piece is really lovely and I strongly recommend you read all of if . However, here’s one line that tickled me, in the spirit of “it’s funny because it’s true.”

I also remember telling him that Quentin [Tarantino] was a huge fan of his film ‘Sitting Target’ (another great soundtrack – btw) and he looked shocked. I’m not sure anyone had ever complimented him on it. He replied “Well, you must tell your friend he is very strange indeed”.

And so it goes, another great lost. I do want to echo Edgar Wright’s entreaty that, especially you’ve never seen it, you watch the 1973 “The Wicker Man” as fast as possible and avoid any place where spoilers about the ending might be found, which seems to be about 99% of what’s been posted about it recently. (I tried to avoid giving too much away in my 2000 review linked to above.) Woodward’s portrayal of a repressed, bitter, humorless, but also decent, principled, and compassionate man is, to me, very much what acting is all about. So, why are we surprised to hear about what a funny and regular guy he was in real life? He was acting — extraordinarily well.

Greg of Cinema Styles has more. Highly recommended.

Originally posted at Premium Hollywood.

Ingmar Bergman’s 1957 landmark is in many respects the ultimate “arty foreign flick.” Credited with launching the mid-century foreign film craze on college campuses and boho communities around the U.S., Sweden’s “The Seventh Seal” is frequently listed alongside “Citizen Kane,” “The Seven Samurai” and “The Rules of the Game” as one of the top four or five greatest works of film art. It’s also a serious contender for the most parodied film of all time, having been sent up in innumerable places and contexts including Woody Allen’s “Love & Death,” “Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey,” and the “Cheating Death” segment of “The Colbert Report.” The downside of its huge artistic rep is that probably no other single film has had to deal with as much of an “eat your vegetables” reputation, so that even some cinephiles approach watching it more as a duty than a pleasure – even though many other art house faves are actually far more unapproachable. It’s gotten to the point where even many serious film fanatics downplay it, avoid it completely, or achieve a kind of super film snob nirvana by looking down their noses at it.

They get away with that last part because of something you’ll never know about “The Seventh Seal” until you actually see it: as death-obsessed, arty foreign flicks go, it’s actually kind of fun. There’s no getting around the portentous stylistic flourishes or the deep dish subject matter – nothing less than the meaning of life and death – but Bergman’s signature film also has its share of risqué knockabout humor, as well as a bit of horror, violence, more than a little melodrama, and some of the most stark black and white imagery ever committed to film. It’s important to realize, though, that this might not actually be Bergman’s best film. Heck, as with any movie, it’s possible you’ll hate it. You have my permission.

The setting is medieval Europe at the time of the devastating Black Plague. Knight Antonius Block (Max von Sydow), who has recently returned from the pointlessly bloody crusades, is confronted by the hooded figure of Death (Bengt Ekerot). It should be curtains, but the warrior insists that, while his body might be afraid, he himself is not. He nevertheless challenges the specter to the most famous board game in movie history — a single game of chess, which he has correctly surmised is Mr. Personified Death’s weakness. The delaying tactic works for the length of the film, as the knight and his cynical squire (Gunnar Björnstrand) have a series of encounters, all variously dealing with the subject of life and its inevitable end, as plague-borne hysteria sweeps the land and threatens Jof, a likable actor (Nils Poppe), Mia, his loving wife (Bibi Andersson), and their infant son.

READ THE REST AT BULLZ-EYE.COM

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I have to admit up-front that this is something of a pet movie – the kind you love all the more because not that many people have seen it. Why? Let’s start by saying it’s a superbly well-crafted, mid-‘80s blend of Brit gangster flick, suspense, heavy-duty irony, and Zen/existentialist philosophy. It’s also a remarkable agglomeration of talent on both sides of the camera, and stars three of the greatest leading men/character actors that England produced in the latter half of 20th century — two at the peak of their powers and one at the very beginning of his long film and television career. It’s also notable as the film that established the feature film career of a personal favorite, Stephen Frears, the too-versatile-for-his-own-good director behind “Sammy and Rosie Get Laid,” “The Grifters,” “Dirty Pretty Things,” “High Fidelity,” “The Queen” and many others. But forget all that, what’s really striking about “The Hit” is its subject matter. This isn’t just another thriller about criminals threatened with death; it’s an entirely entertaining parable that’s actually about death and how we humans face our own end.

Written by Frears’ then-frequent TV collaborator, novelist Peter Prince, “The Hit” opens at the Old Bailey, circa the early ‘70s. Low-rent crook Willie Parker (Terrence Stamp) turns state’s evidence on several of his criminal pals, who respond by serenading him with the sentimental World War II-era anthem, “We’ll Meet Again.” The meaning is clear enough. Ten years later, Willie, now a suave 40-something bohemian with a picture of John Lennon over his bed, is hiding out in high style on Spain’s Costa del Sol. In the course of an afternoon bike ride he metaphorically meets his old mates again through the person of the extremely deadly Mr. Braddock (John Hurt) and Myron (Tim Roth, in his first theatrical film), a glorified soccer hooligan being given his big break in the murder biz.

Saying that the assignment calls for Willie to meet with the crime boss he betrayed, Braddock chooses not to execute his victim on the spot, but to take him on a proverbial ride through Spain’s countryside with France as the ultimate destination. Allowing himself to be in a “road picture” is Braddock’s first mistake. One problem he encounters along the way is Maggie (Laura del Sol), a beautiful young ex-street urchin with a terrifying will to live. The other is the intended victim, who, after some initial resistance, seems not to be all that put out by the near-certainty of his immanent murder. Is Willie Parker merely a blissed-out intellectual, or is the Zen-like calm some kind of outrageous gambit to save his own skin? Regardless, it throws Braddock and thuggish Myron seriously off their games.

READ THE REST AT BULLZ-EYE.COM

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It seems to me there might be a movie in henry porter’s DailyKos diary, or rather in the fascinating later life of Marine Interrogator and Asian art scholar Sherwood Moran, who died two years shy of his hundredth birthday in 1983.  The opening of porter’s diary is bit lengthy, but the far lengthier essay  by Moran is, according to his moving online tribute, something of a cult classic among Marine “interviewers” (Moran’s preferred term for his art). The character of the semi-saintly, ex-pacifist, tap-dancing, utterly devoutly Christian liberal who helped defeat the Japanese militarists of World War II with his love of Japan and his sincere compassion for the Japanese people seems like a great star part for any late-middle-aged actor and an profound example of the best of Christianity. Yes, we need at least one more WWII movie, at least.

There are, of course, obvious political resonances as Dick Cheney dominates our airwaves for reasons known only to Dick Cheney, and this really should be “front and center” in the torture debate. Also, a movie based on him would drive our friends at Big Hollywood insane, who really should take a moment to reflect on the very radical and unconservative implications of what they’ve been saying.

Up to now, I’ve been a no-show at the several cinephile exams that have been hosted over the last couple of years at Dennis Cozzalio’s legendarily brainy film geek blog, Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule. Well, before splitting for a hard-earned vacation, Dennis has posted a new exam on film-related matters, up in honor of the cartoon dog genius, Prof. Peabody, which you’re all encouraged to take.

I’ve posted my responses in the comment thread over there already, but now that I’m a SLIFR slacker no more, I thought I’d make ‘em do double duty here because we know that my opinions matter, or something.

Here goes….

1) Favorite Biopic

“Lawrence of Arabia” – an obviously great film and a rather pedestrian choice given that I really like biopics, sometimes the cheesier and and more ridiculously fabricated the better. Therefore, quasi-demi-honorable mention is alluded this triumvirate of absurdly wrong biopics – “The Jolson Story” (it’s amazing how much Al Jolson’s life was just like the plot of “The Jazz Singer”!), “They Died With Their Boots On” (the love affair between Custer and the Indians your socialist history teacher doesn’t want you to see!) and “Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story” (he didn’t just appear in action movies…he lived them!).

2) Dyan Cannon or Tuesday Weld?

It’s close, but I give it to Dyan Cannon for being hilarious onscreen and genuinely wacky offscreen.

3) Best example of science fiction futurism rendered silly by the event of time catching up to the prediction

The Jetson’s treadmill? I’m drawing a blank here.

4) Annette Funicello & Frankie Avalon or Troy Donahue & Sandra Dee?

Frankie & Annette – I grew up watching those movies on channels 5 & 9 (I think) out here up to age 10 or so. Not that those movies are in any sense “good” (I wonder if I could sit through any of them now?), but F&A at least have a certain amount of charm and sense of humor, which I really can’t say about Troy Donahue, at least.

5) Favorite Raoul Walsh movie?

Not really “White Heat,” and no, definitely not “They Died with Their Boots On”… The winner is “The Roaring Twenties” – by far. Just a magnificent entertainment. I need to see that one again some time soon.

6) Sophomore film which represents greatest improvement over the director’s debut

This is tough, but I guess I’m going to say Polanski’s “Repulsion” as it’s brilliant and “Knife in the Water” left me feeling merely 90 minutes older after it was done. Though, that was in college and I might have a very different reaction now. (Another possibility is “Rushmore” – though I loved “Bottle Rocket” quite a bit, so it’s dicey.)

7) Ice Cube or Mos Def?

Mos Def – because he convinced me he was actually English in “Hithchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.”

Favorite movie about the music industry.

Many, many fun movies in this category, but I guess I’m going to have to go with “Nashville.”

(more…)

The word “bromance” wouldn’t even be coined for another 42 years back in 1966, when playwright Neil Simon first presented his classic play about two mismatched best friends sharing an apartment in the wake of failed marriages. The 1968 film version is pretty unremarkable as pure filmmaking, but it is still a classic of sorts and very much the father of the long list of buddy comedies that followed. Male friendships were certainly nothing new in movies in 1968, but this was the first mainstream American film that I know of to actually be overtly about a male friendship. Young Seth and Evan of “Superbad” may owe their very existence to Felix and Oscar.

Unless you’re very young or very comedy challenged, you probably know the ingeniously simple premise of “The Odd Couple,” but here goes anyway: Felix Ungar (Jack Lemmon), a super-tidy, hypochondriacal family man, is thrown out by his wife of 12 years. Nearly suicidal and utterly alone, he is taken in by his poker buddy and best friend, Oscar Madison (Walter Matthau), an already divorced Manhattan sports writer with numerous bad habits, including being a complete and total slob, but blessed with an extremely large apartment that is still two small for the both of them. The result is the kind of great pain that also equals great hilarity.

Read the rest at Bullz-Eye.com

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I hate to write this one. Andy Hallett passed on yesterday at age 33 after a long struggle with heart disease. He was known to fans of Angel originally as the suavely lovable demon karaoke singer/nightclub owner, psychic, and occasional stoolie originally known as “the Host,” and later revealed to be Lorne, aka Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan. He eventually became a full regular cast member on the show and, as Brian Doan says in his terrific remembrance, it’s conscience with a camp sense of humor.

Lorne, whose show-biz sensibilities were somewhere in between Scott Thompson of  “The Kids in the Hall” and a more benign George Sanders, was definitely one of the most popular supporting characters of Angel, a darker, sometimes noirish, spin-off of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer that, while sometimes highly uneven, occasionally threatened to become more interesting than the show which spawned it. He certainly got many of the funniest lines, but delivered them with a kind of ageless melancholy and was no simple comic relief demon.

During the show’s intriguing final season, creator Joss Whedon took him to some very dark places, particularly in  “Not Fade Away,” the brilliant final episode, and Hallett went to those places with an apparent ease that belied the fact that Lorne had been his first role. How sad that, as an actor, it turned out to be his one of just a very few.

Still, he is extremely well remembered by his coworkers and fans who, over the years, have had nothing but nice things to say about him personally, as well as making his character one of the most beloved in the “Buffyverse.” Note the literally hundreds of sincerely sad remarks on the thread announcing his death on the fan blog, Whedonesque.

Joe Reid of NPR has more.

UPDATE: Angel executive producer Tim Minear has a very nice video tribute up to Lorne/Andy Hallett featuring many of his highlights from the series over at Facebook.

I was very sorry to hear about the death of Ron Silver. He was only 62 and died from esophageal cancer.

Silver was a terrific character actor of TV, film, and stage and an indefatigable, and sometimes downright irritating (to me), political activist who was one of a slew of liberals of various stripes to become something different after 9/11. In his case, that meant someone who described himself as very liberal on most domestic matters but was, in my view, way, way right/hawkish — and way, way wrong — on war/peace type issues with those issues largely trumping the others…think a Jewish, non-soused, and way more civil Christopher Hitchens.

Brian Doan has saved me an enormous amount of verbiage on Silver’s fairly gigantic acting talents by basically saying what I was going to say, though possibly better. I will take a moment to echo Brian’s praise for Silver’s best known film performance in Barbet Schroeder’s Reversal of Fortune, a personal favorite of mine. Silver’s very focused onscreen energy was perfect for the role and an apt counterpoint to Jeremy Irons’ more coiled performance. It also occurs to me that Silver’s Alan Dershowitz on film is way more charismatic than the real Dersh  — but not just in the usual Hollywood manner where real people are played by prettier versions of themselves — and, in fact, Ron Silver was a great deal more likable throughout his own personal political perambulations than the similarly controversy-prone Harvard law prof. Though I stopped watching The West Wing after Aaron Sorkin left the show, I will echo Brian’s praise for  what I saw of his borderline amoral political consultant, Bruno Gianelli — who at first I thought was supposed to be stand-in for Dick Morris, but I can’t imagine Gianelli/Silver sucking anyone’s toes, so that’s out.

Huffpo has a pretty good obituary in which Silver makes the usual statement that his loud turn to the right on foreign policy hurt his career to some degree. I tend to be extremely skeptical about charges of anti-conservative oppression in Hollywood and tend to think that any political controversy can occasionally harm certain actors if they’re not superstars (just ask Ed Asner). Still, it’s possible certain narrowminded or insecure liberal producers and directors didn’t want to work with “Ron ron the neocon”– and then it was their loss, and the loss of their viewers.

Huffpo also has some very interesting reminiscences from double-plus Orwellian pollster Frank Luntz, kneejerk liberal director Alan Greenwald (who names Silver as a mensch), affable yet untrustworthy Clintonian/liberal pundit Paul Begala and, most of all, Ben Stiller, who remembers Silver doing a very fun thing he probably shouldn’t have done. And, though almost everything about the site makes me want to shred a pillow, I need to point you to a piece at Big Hollywood on the loss of his friend by conservative and similarly menschy producer-writer-director Lionel Chetwynd, who reminds us that my Christopher “The Trail of Henry Kissinger” Hitchens comparison is just a bit ironic, given that he actually played the old war criminal. But the one clip I found wasn’t…well, it wasn’t.

So, I’ll leave you with a more characteristic Ron Silver acting moment…

The dramatic action of “Frozen River” opens with a close-up of Melissa Leo as trailer park mom Ray Eddy having her first cigarette of the day. The lines on her face are visible, some blood vessels too – maybe a hint of a pimple or two. Even though lots of people look worse than this first thing in the morning, and not only in trailer parks, seeing a woman look this unglamorous in a movie, even a modestly budgeted Sundance fave, is kind of shocking. It’s crucial, because this very unusual moment sets up everything that follows in this surprising and often suspenseful drama of late Bush-era desperation and ill-conceived crime.

In any case, our mother-of-two protagonist has plenty of good reasons to look miserable. It’s a few days before Christmas and her compulsive gambler husband has fled, probably for good, with money meant for food, bills and the final payments for the family’s dream doublewide mobile home. While her five year-old (James Reilly) is dreaming of a Hot Wheels track set from Santa, T.J. (Charlie McDermott), her bright 15-year-old, is only too aware of the situation and is tired of subsisting on school lunches, popcorn and Tang whenever the money runs out. Also, it’s probably not helping that Ray’s only gig is a part-time job at a dollar store, she lives in upstate New York, and everything’s frozen.

Read the rest at Bullz-Eye.com.

FtY Extra: Just so you can see that Melissa Leo really is acting…

Via LA Observed…

There are certain character actors who make me smile whenever they walk onscreen, and perhaps the most reliable living smile-inducer of them all has just passed on at age 87. Here he is one the roles that first made me aware of James Whitmore as a kid…in a strikingly contemporary moment, as it happens….

And, with Keenan Wynn, proving he could sing and dance a little from Kiss Me, Kate (at about 1:20…unfortunately, the entire number isn’t available, it seems).

And from the ‘08 Primaries — he definitely had a flair for the dramatic….

The Times has a very good, lengthy obituary.