Dandy Cat

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers was written by Albert Hackett, Frances Goodrich, and Dorothy Kingsley and was directed by Stanley Donen. It was released in 1954. The film was produced by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

In 1850, there’s wood to be chopped, dances to be danced, and women to be married. Adam Pontipee, played by Howard Keel, meets local tavern worker Milly, played by Jane Powell. Within hours of meeting and falling for her, Adam asks her to marry him—a proposal which she accepts. Upon returning to Adam’s mountain cabin, Milly is surprised to learn that Adam is the eldest of seven brothers, all living together. Despite her disappointment at not being able to live the married life she had envisioned for herself, she tasks herself with cleaning up her new home and teaching the brothers how to be polite and proper men. These six lovelorn men soon realize that the only way they’ll meet and marry a woman like Milly is if they drop their poor manners and do things her way. At a social gathering in town, they meet six women and try out their new personas on them. The girls take a liking to these brothers, but trouble erupts when their current suitors find out about these new sweethearts.

There’s a shameful hole in my movie-watching past, and it consists almost exclusively of unwatched musicals. I don’t dislike musicals. I just haven’t watched many of them. It’s a damn shame because a great many of them can be counted amongst the best films ever made. Singin’ in the Rain, anyone?¹ My wife, on the other hand, has maybe seen every single musical ever made. Thank goodness she still decided to marry me. I think she saw my musical inexperience as an opportunity to educate me on the finer points of this genre, one of those being this film. Which I loved. Loved a whole lot. Like many musicals, the songs are the main draw here, and there are some serious bangers (as the youths say).² You would do well to check out Bless Yore Beautiful Hide, Goin’ Courtin’, and The Barn Dance. If you’re anything like me, you should go into the film without any notions about it. Its bouncy, tuneful, and vibrant spirit will win you over. If you’ve already seen it, why not give it another watch? You already know how excellent it is. 🎞

The Matrix was written and directed by Lana Wachowski and Lilly Wachowski. It was released in 1999. The film was produced by Warner Bros., Village Roadshow Pictures, Groucho Film Partnership, and Silver Pictures. The artists for the main titles were Harold De Jesus and Marcel Valcarce.

Thomas Anderson, known by his preferred hacking alias “Neo,” played by Keanu Reeves, lives an unsatisfying life and has always suspected that there’s something wrong with the world he lives in. His suspicions are confirmed when he meets Trinity, played by Carrie-Anne Moss. After an unfortunate run-in with a sentient computer program known as Agent Smith, played by Hugo Weaving, she introduces him to a mysterious man named Morpheus, played by Laurence Fishburne. Morpheus explains to him that the world Neo knows is nothing more than a computer simulation, a construct playing out within the minds of comatose humans as they are used as an energy source by intelligent machines. Initially resistant to this staggering revelation, Neo is soon reborn into the real world, a post-apocalyptic hellscape full of human factories and immense dangers. Morpheus believes Neo to be “the One,” a human who is believed to free humankind. Neo must learn what it means to be alive in the real world, and hopefully, live up to what’s prophesied about him.

The titles demonstrate an unusual juxtaposition in the film. The Matrix, with all of its advanced technology, is personified through ancient computer screens. There’s no color besides green. No icons on the screen. No menu bar to be seen anywhere. The vast complexity of this simulation is shown as raindrops of computer characters. The words “The Matrix” are themselves formed from the physical representation of The Matrix: the sickly green on black glow of old computer screens. This feels like an expert melding of the visuals of the film and the complex ideas that drive its story. From moment one, the film gives us a clue as to what is in store for us.

I recall being held in rapt silence while watching this film in the theater when it came out. You knew you were about to watch something special when those characters started falling from the top of the screen. One of the most thrilling sequences in film history follows this opening title: a squad of police officers and three relentless, terrifying Agents surround the building in which Trinity is holed up. She must fight her way out and into safety, or die trying. To this day, it’s still completely effective. Give that scene a watch again. 🎞

Citizen Kane was written by Herman Mankiewicz and Orson Welles and was directed by Orson Welles. It was released in 1941. The film was produced by RKO Radio Pictures and Mercury Productions.

On his deathbed, the elderly Charles Foster Kane, played by Orson Welles, utters one final word before passing: “Rosebud.” Kane, a wealthy newspaper publisher and industrial magnate, has always garnered much attention, so his death is big news. His last word presents a mystery that newsreel producer Jerry Thompson, played by William Alland, is tasked with uncovering. Through interviews with Kane’s friends and associates, more is learned about the history of this prolific and imposing man. His newspaper business, his failed romantic relationships, and the great highs and lows of his life are described by those who knew him. By the end of this tale, there is a greater understanding of the man, but will anyone ever discover the true meaning of the word “Rosebud”?

At this point, there’s probably little to be gained from me waxing on about the importance of this monumental film. The subject matter has been talked to death. The character of Charles Foster Kane, and his clear inspiration in William Randolph Hearst, have been dissected enough. Heck, most everyone probably knows what the heck “Rosebud” is by now.

Instead, what strikes me most about this title card is not the film that follows, but instead the imposing nature of the letters. The words “CITIZEN KANE” take up the entire screen. They’re as large as the film itself, which is to say, larger than life. They tower over the audience in a pompous, arrogant, and self-important manner, as if to reflect the personality that’s central to the film. However, behind that grand façade lies an insecure man who longs for the comforts of his childhood. The letters of the title card might be seen as something of a put-on. A shield that Kane can use to hide behind, all the while wishing that he could recapture his youthful happiness while hiding away from the dread that comes with facing the world he built for himself. The title card personifies a man who is theatrical and legendary for the world, yet diminutive in private.

Also, I’ve really been captured by the first trailer for the film. It’s still unlike anything you’ll ever see. For a film that was released in 1941, it feels far ahead of its time. Considering how unusual the trailer is, it’s probably far ahead of any time. Instead of a tapestry of shots from the film that describe the general plot, we’re treated to a voice-over from Welles himself, narrating aspects of the production and introducing many of its main players. Give this fascinating thing a watch. 🎞

Days of Heaven was written and directed by Terrence Malick. It was released in 1978. The film was produced by Paramount Pictures. The main titles were designed by Dan Perri.

After accidentally killing his supervisor, Bill, played by Richard Gere, flees to Texas with his girlfriend, Abby, played by Brooke Adams, and his younger sister, Linda, played by Linda Manz. The trio become employed as wheat harvesters on a farm owned by a character played by Sam Shepard. Realizing that the farmer’s failing health presents a cruel financial opportunity, Bill and Abby scheme to take his fortune by having her marry the farmer. As they often do, their best-laid plans fall apart when the farmer learns of Bill and Abby’s true relationship.

This film was famed for its beautiful cinematography and that still holds true today. There is some impressive filmmaking happening every year, and yet, Days of Heaven is still a towering presence. The unusual circumstances surrounding its cinematography are equally notable—Néstor Almendros, the film’s cinematographer, was beginning to lose his sight during the production. He had assistants take photographs of scenes and would then examine them with strong lenses. The troubled production ran so over schedule that Almendros had to leave to attend to a prior filmmaking commitment. He tasked Haskell Wexler, a legend in his own right, to finish the film in his stead. What resulted was a moving film that has stuck in my head ever since I first saw it. It’s elegant in the finest sense of the word.

The improvisational filmmaking style that Malick and Almendros developed was frustrating to most of the crew. Damn the lighting setups! Forget about intricately blocked scenes! Call sheets? Who needs ‘em?! This was a most unusual production at the time,¹ but it laid the groundwork for Malick’s style in later films. It’s remarkable to see how formative this film was for him. With it, he developed a style of serendipity. This is on full display in films like The New World and The Tree of Life where the camera is an invisible participant in the actor’s performances, instead of a central fixture. Days of Heaven is notable in itself, but its legacy also continues to reverberate through Malick’s work.

There’s a moving essay written by The Criterion Collection’s staff writer and social media director, Hillary Weston, about Sam Shepard’s quiet, elegiac performance. For anyone who’s ever been moved by the work of this beautiful writer and actor, it’s a lovely read. 🎞

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse was written by Phil Lord and Rodney Rothman and was directed by Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey, and Rodney Rothman. It was released in 2018. It was produced by Columbia Pictures, Marvel Entertainment, Sony Pictures Animation, Avi Arad Productions, Lord Miller Productions, and Pascal Pictures. The titles for the film were created by Alma Mater.

Miles Morales, a teenager living in New York City, stumbles into a universe-ending plot when he becomes a new Spider-Man. Feared crime lord, Kingpin, has had a super-collider created so he can open up a bridge to another universe and bring back his deceased wife and son. Miles is instructed by the previous Spider-Man, as he is dying,¹ to stop Kingpin before he’s able to go through with his plan and inadvertently tears everything in several universes apart. Miles is joined by five other Spider-Heroes from different universes—seems that some slipped through during Kingpin’s first machine test—and they all work together to find the courage to avert disaster. In doing so, they all learn what it takes to live up to their potential.

I’m still holding firm to the belief that this film will soon be considered not only the best animated film of the last decade, but one of the best films ever made. From a technical perspective, there’s never been anything like this. This is as close as any movie has ever come to portraying a comic book on-screen. Sorry, Ang Lee. I watched this one a couple of months ago and was still impressed with the animation techniques at play. This could have easily turned into a mess of garbage, but instead, it sang. From a story perspective, I find it to be affecting and, like all good Spider-Man films are capable of doing, invigorating. Swinging along with Miles through New York City feels energetic like nothing else. You’ll finish this film and wish you could feel air rushing past your masked face, too. These two qualities intertwine and create a film that lifts itself. The innovative animation gives life to the story and the heartfelt story gives substance to the animation’s style.

Safe to say, this film is still a revelation and it deserved its Oscar win for Best Animated Feature Film. I may have to give it another watch as soon as possible.

WIRED made a fascinating video in which they interviewed Visual Effects Supervisor, Danny Dimian, and Head of Character Animation, Josh Beveridge. The pair talk about their visual inspirations, the choices they made when leading the film’s animation, and how they hoped their work will affect the film’s viewers. It’s a great watch if you’re looking to better understand how it was all done. 🎞

Drive was written by Hossein Amini as an adaptation of the novel of the same name by James Sallis, and was directed by Nicolas Winding Refn. It was released in 2011. It was produced by Bold Films, Oddlot Entertainment, Marc Platt Productions, and Motel Movies. The title designer was Jay Johnson.

Stunt driver by day and getaway driver by night, the character of Driver, played by Ryan Gosling is a force to be reckoned with. Seriously, don’t make the mistake of crossing him. After falling for his next-door neighbor, Irene, played by Carey Mulligan, he finds himself forced into violence when her husband, Standard, played by Oscar Isaac, is released from jail. Standard owes some powerful people money, and the only way to keep Irene and her child safe is for Driver to assist in a pawn shop robbery. When things go south during the heist, Driver has to rain vengeance down on anyone who means to harm the people he cares for.

What a strange sequence of titles this film employs. Sure, this is one stylish as hell movie, but the bright pink, ‘80s-inspired look of that text seems so incongruous to the rest of the story. It’s a conscious choice on the part of the director to go with something so dramatic and eye-catching. Titles like these don’t happen by accident. However, aside from the throaty roar of the car chase sequences and the gruesome violence, this is a fairly quiet film. Its characters don’t demand attention, save for Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman. Most of the interactions between Driver and Irene are peaceful and fun (that is, until the horrifying scene in the elevator when Driver beats an assassin to death). Nothing about these two characters screams “look at me!” quite like those titles do.

Pairing such flashy titles with a couple of shy, introverted characters serves the film well, though. It keeps the viewer on edge, and always wondering what the film is going to surprise you with next. Make no mistake, there are some surprising moments to be had here. The sweet looks that Driver and Irene share will not prepare you for how gruesome some moments are. It shocked me when I saw it, so much so that I considered it a revelation by the end of its running time. I ended up watching all of the credits in the theater because I was unable to move from my seat for a long time. I had no idea a film could be this way, and it’s still one that amazes me.

For the cinematography fans out there (like me!), please enjoy the video that Tony Zhou of Every Frame a Painting made for Drive. It examines cinematographer Newton Thomas Sigel’s use of a quadrant system, which breaks up the frame into four distinct zones of focus. It is a phenomenal video that examines how many different stores can be told within a single shot. The artistry that went into this film remains impressive. 🎞

Rebecca was written by Robert E. Sherwood and Joan Harrison, and was directed by Alfred Hitchcock. The film was adapted from the novel of the same name, written by Daphne Du Maurier. It was released in 1940. The film was produced by Selznick International Pictures (which had been riding high after their release of Gone with the Wind the previous year).

Newly wed to Maxim de Winter, played by Laurence Olivier, the new Mrs. de Winter, played by Joan Fontaine, moves into her husband’s sprawling estate, the Manderley house. She’s given a cold greeting by the current staff of the house, and especially by the severe Mrs. Danvers, played by Judith Anderson. Maxim’s deceased former wife still lives deep in the hearts and minds of everyone. They’re not happy about the new Mrs. de Winter taking up residence in the former home of the woman they all loved (albeit some more so than others). Mrs. de Winter faces scorn and mockery, driving her to tears and despair. However, there’s a great mystery surrounding the titular character: was her death truly an accident, or were there more nefarious actions that caused her demise?

I saw a review of this film on Letterboxd that made an effort to explain that while this film can indeed be seen as a tragedy, it’s necessarily not for the reason most people think. The young Mrs. de Winter is surely not having an ideal time at Manderley. Who would want their marriage to include a distant husband and his callous house staff? She’s made to be the one who’s tormented at great length. However, the reviewer posits that we should take greater notice of the pain that Mrs. Danvers is feeling. Indeed that the unrequited love Mrs. Danvers held for Rebecca was also a great tragedy in this film. User “nathaxnne” writes:

We only see Rebecca through the eyes of those who remember her. It is important to not privilege one remembrance above any other, but Mrs. Danvers' recollection burns most fiercely, her love not only surviving death but allowed for the first time to become one with the current manifestation of Manderlay [sic] in its decor, its routine, a shrine to her beloved, and finally joining her in death.

I found this to be a fascinating take on the film. So much of its running time is spent trailing Mrs. de Winter as she’s tormented by the “ghost” of Rebecca. She’s forever looking for a peaceful, joyous life with her new husband, only to be met with indifferent or distracted responses. We’re made to relate to her plight and detest her poor treatment at the hands of Mrs. Danvers. But we seldom do anything without a reason, and Mrs. Danvers is acting on the pain and heartbreak she feels over the loss of the person she loved. Maxim is all too willing to leave Rebecca in the past, and for good reason, but his desire is not shared by everyone. Sadly, what results is summed up in nathaxnne’s review:

Rebecca is a ghost story where those who are left behind are haunted, even in the potential absence of a spectre.

This is a fascinating film, and easily one of Hitchcock’s best. It deserves to be seen by more people and shine as brightly as any of his best-known works.

The Criterion Collection interviewed Oscar-winning VFX artist and film historian, Craig Barron, for their recent re-issue of this film. This video was a fun and fascinating look at how they achieved the vast and impressive shots of the great Manderley house, as well as providing a quick snippet of Hitchcock’s moviemaking history. Enjoy! 🎞

The Fountain was written and directed by Darren Aronofsky. It was released in 2006. The film was produced by Protozoa Pictures and New Regency. The title card is a shot from the film with no discernible title designer.

Spanning three disparate times and places in the universe, The Fountain tells the story of conquistador Tomás Verde who has been tasked by his queen, Isabella, to find the Tree of Life. It’s located deep in Mayan territory, and she believes it will be the key to saving her kingdom. It also tells the story of Tom Creo, a modern surgeon who is desperately trying to find a cure for a brain tumor that’s ravaging his wife, Izzi. The third story is that of Tommy, a futuristic space traveler who is guiding a tree toward a dying star. He believes that its magnificent explosion will bring back his long lost love. Hugh Jackman plays all three versions of Tom, and Rachel Weisz plays his counterpart.

By this point in my life, I’d seen Aronofsky’s previous film, the disorienting, beautiful, and despairing Requiem for a Dream. I don’t think I’d ever seen something so full of style and confidence. How remarkable that it was only his second full-length film! When The Fountain came out, I knew it was something I had to see. I’m still shocked, all these years later, that it didn’t do very well, and is seen as one of his weaker works. I still believe that many of its detractors weren’t ready for its winding narrative, or that it demanded critical viewing and not just simply blank witnessing.

I could hardly walk out of the theater after I saw it; I may have instead stumbled out into the bright sunlight. It filled my head with so many impossible questions. I was in complete awe of the production and the performances. Imagine my surprise that its budget amounted to what the industry now affords to a small independent film. It’s still something that gives me chills as I watch it. It asks such huge questions, like to what lengths would you go to save the people you love and how do you view your purpose in this world? It demands a lot of you.

This one has gained a quiet, yet passionate fan base. It deserves more, and I implore you to watch it with an open heart. 🎞

Soul was written by Pete Docter, Mike Jones, and Kemp Powers, and was directed by Pete Docter and Kemp Powers. It was released in 2020. The film was produced by Walt Disney Pictures and Pixar Animation Studios. The title designer was Laura Meyer.

A down on his luck jazz musician named Joe Gardner, voiced by Jamie Foxx, gets the opportunity of his lifetime. He’s invited to play in The Dorothea Williams Quartet, and would have been able to if he didn’t immediately fall into an open sewer and die. But he doesn’t want to miss out on his big break, so he escapes the “Great Beyond” and falls again into the “Great Before.” Joe is mistaken for a mentor to the new souls in the Great Before and assigned to the incredulous Soul 22, voiced by Tina Fey. At that time, he has no luck in helping them find a passion. With the help of the eccentric soul, Moonwind, voiced by Graham Norton, Joe locates his body back on Earth, but accidentally takes 22 along with him. Instead of returning to his body, 22 lands in it, and Joe inhabits the body of a nearby cat. The pair need to find a way to get Joe back into his body before his big show that night.

Gosh, there’s a lot that goes on in this film. It’s hard to keep the synopsis condensed. Suffice it to say, this film has a lot of depth. It is 100% worth seeing. I was enamored of Onward, Pixar’s other 2020 film, so I was hopeful that Soul would be able to match the bar that the other one set. After watching it, I can say that Soul is undeniably the better film, and I loved Onward. I may not be a jazz musician, but I think anyone, especially those with an artistic inclination, can relate to both Joe and 22. We’re all looking for our purpose in life. We’re all looking for our calling. The lucky ones are able to find it. Those who can help others find their calling are truly special people. My goal in life is to find the satisfaction that Joe achieves at the end of this film. Do I need to be rich and famous? No. I mean, I wouldn’t mind being rich, but that’s not what’s going to make me happy. Feeling content with my life, and being able to inspire others, is a journey worth going on.

I’d love for you to take a look at the opening sequence.¹ The combination of music from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross² with the stark, black and white animation gives it a chilling, lonely, awe-inspiring feel that completely took me aback. Witnessing this instantly sold me on the movie. I had to rewatch this bit several times. I was thrilled to be seeing a true piece of art. 🎞