Directed by Gregory La Cava

Starring William Powell and Carole Lombard

It must be difficult being a butler. Not so much the cooking and cleaning and ironing and serving, but look at the standard they have to uphold; there’s P.G. Wodehouse’s iconic Jeeves, for example.

“Sir?” said Jeeves, kind of manifesting himself. One of the rummy things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very seldom see him come into a room. He’s like one of those weird chappies in India who dissolve themselves into thin air and nip through space in a sort of disembodied way and assemble the parts again just where they want them.

Jeeves is a tough act to follow, but there’s also Lord Peter Wimsey’s right-hand man, the miraculously competent Bunter, invented by mystery novelist Dorothy L. Sayers. From chemistry to photography to tide schedules, Bunter’s know-how never ceases to impress the no-less brilliant Lord Peter.

Godfrey Smith (William Powell) belongs to this noble class of manservant, without whom the aristocracy would have long ago perished. He is discovered atop an ash pile in the local garbage dump by a pair of sister socialites, Irene and Cornelia Bullock (Carole Lombard and Gail Patrick), who require a “forgotten man” for their upper-crust scavenger hunt. Irene takes a shine to the rumpled but unruffled Godfrey and in a drunken impulse hires him on as the Bullock family butler. The mother agrees since Godfrey is the “first thing she’s shown any affection for since her pomeranian died last summer.”

Naturally, one doesn’t go from being a dumpster-diving vagrant to a cocktail-carrying servant overnight. There’s more to Godfrey than meets the eye, and his mysterious past holds the secret to his current incarnation as suave butler extraordinaire. In time he becomes the moral compass for the seriously batty Bullock family, weathering their eccentricities and profound silliness to teach them a hard-earned lesson about the meaning of true prosperity.

Like Frank Capra’s Depression-era comedies, My Man Godfrey deftly mixes humor and social criticism (even covering some of the same thematic ground as Preston Sturges’ classic Sullivan’s Travels). Catholic social teaching had an impact on Capra’s films and the sympathies in Godfrey unquestionably lie with the homeless rather than with the wealthy. That said, “rich people doing stupid things” is an easier sell than a work of social realism about the sufferings of a noble homeless man.

With his trim moustache and ironical air, William Powell was a debonair leading man who didn’t so much act a part as embody a fantasy of effortless wit and composure. Carole Lombard, whom Powell was married to for a time, matches him for energy and charm as the smitten younger sister, Irene. (It is not, however, the equal partnership that Powell enjoyed with Myrna Loy in the Thin Man franchise—theirs was a one-of-a-kind chemistry.)

The supporting actors are uniformly excellent, especially Alice Brady as the muddle-headed matriarch—a woman who apparently speaks about ten times faster than she thinks. Russian actor Mischa Auer steals scenes as the Continental Carlo, a moody moocher often seen lurking in the background, frozen in dramatic poses redolent of soul-crushing despair and ennui. I am pleased to report that Auer was nominated for Best Supporting Actor, one of six Oscar nods the movie earned in 1936.

Comedy | No Comments »

Directed by Ken Loach

Starring Cillian Murphy and Liam Cunningham

‘Twas hard the woeful words to frame to break the ties that bound us. But harder still to bear the shame of foreign chains around us. And so I said, “The mountain glen I’ll seek at morning early.

And join the bold united men, while soft winds shake the barley.”

The rugged, rocky wilderness of County Cork backdrops scenes of sudden violence and ambush. It’s 1920 in Ireland, and a rag-tag band of freedom fighters are hell-bent on expelling the British from their Emerald Isle. It’s no wonder; early scenes in the film show the “Black-and-Tans” (British soldiers) treating the Irish natives as something less than human.

Cillian Murphy stars as Damien O’Donovan, an intelligent and earnest young man ready to leave Ireland to study medicine at a London hospital. But when Black & Tan bullying turns into mindless murder, the tragedy is a catalyst for the county’s young men, including Damien and his older brother, Teddy. They decide to organize a resistance to the British occupation, relying on guerilla tactics to surprise the better-trained, better-equipped British.

The Wind that Shakes the Barley won the coveted Palme d’Or at the 2006 Cannes Film Festival, arguably the most prestigious award bestowed by the high priests of international cinema. They chose a worthy, sober-minded film; the kind that one approaches with respect rather than love.

The director, Ken Loach, has no interest in appealing to your emotions. There is no grandstanding in the film; no mawkish tugs on your heartstrings. There are no picture-postcard landscapes, lyrical set-pieces, or stirring action scenes. The music, mood, and color palette of the film are muted, earthy, unvarnished. The shoot-outs between the IRA and the British are deliberately clumsy, confusing, and strangely intimate. When an Irishman falls, he’s someone every fighter knew by name, may have known their whole lives.

Just as he refuses to supply formulaic action scenes, Loach also refuses easy answers, pat themes. Loach frames the larger questions of the conflict within a family drama. Damien and Teddy, blood brothers-in-arms who had fought together for the same free Ireland, eventually diverge in their ideology. The Treaty of 1921 called for a truce between Britain and Ireland with the establishment of the Irish Free State, which remained nonetheless a dominion of the British Empire. Teddy, a politician, supports the treaty as the first small but necessary step towards an entirely independent Ireland. Damien, a purist, believes the treaty to be a compromise, an insult to everything Irish soldiers fought and died for.

Which brother is correct? The defining moment for Damien already happened earlier in the film. On an isolated windswept heath, Damien executes a fellow Irishman, a young stableboy who had betrayed Teddy to the British out of fear for his family’s safety. Murphy does brilliant work in this scene as ideology battles humanism. “Have you said your prayers?” he asks the boy, his voice trembling with fear for his own compromised humanity.

Damien’s absolutist belief in freeing Ireland from British rule seems rooted in this moment. From that decision on, the sensitive young man who had wanted to heal others has to justify to himself that the Cause was above the life of a fear-stricken boy. No compromises with the British could allow that to be true. Murphy was the right choice for the part; with his icy blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones, he has the ascetic intensity of a man marked for martyrdom.

Later Damien must tell the mother of the boy what he did to her son. She insists that Damien to take him to the grave. They walk for six hours in silence. Once arrived, she lays flowers and a cross on the grave and tells Damien, “I never want to see your face again.”

Naturally any film set in Ireland circa 1920 is shot-through with Catholicism, but Loach—a dyed-in-the-wool Marxist—is less interested in religion than in the socio-economic needs that drive the revolution. There are cosmetic nods to the characters’ faith, such as the sign-of-the-cross over a fallen comrade, but religion for the most part remains in the background.

Nonetheless, The Wind that Shakes the Barley raises difficult and necessary questions about the nature of political ideology in a human context. Loach has been accused in the past of using his films as unsubtle vehicles for his socialist agenda. Not having seen his other films, I couldn’t comment on his oeuvre, but this particular film struck me as essentially humanistic. Consider the anecdote Damian relates about the mother of the boy he killed. And then consider the last line of the movie. Loach is not afraid to make clear the tragic human cost of pitiless political purity.

USCCB rating: A-III – Adults only

View the trailer:

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Or should I say favorites of 2007. Here are 7 movies from last year that I thoroughly enjoyed, appreciated, or found especially thoughtful/memorable/interesting. Please note that I haven’t seen nearly all the acclaimed movies of the year (Juno or Sweeney Todd, for example), so this list can only be partially representative of what was released. Also note that I’m a 24-year old male, and that I just realized 4 of the 7 DVD covers here feature dudes with guns.

1. No Country for Old Men – A perfect synergy of filmmakers (Coen Bros) and source material (Cormac McCarthy) creates a masterpiece: a tight, sparse thriller with metaphysical undertones. The effect is like Alfred Hitchcock directing a Flannery O’Connor story: gripping, suspenseful, disturbing, morally serious, and chock-full of quirky and memorable characters. Of those, the baddest of bad guys is the most memorable: Javier Bardem as Anton Chigurh joins the pantheon of pure evil alongside Hannibal Lecter, HAL 9000, and Uncle Charlie.

2. Diving Bell and the Butterfly – One of the year’s most experimental films was also its most deeply humane. Based on a true story about a successful magazine editor who suffers a massive stroke and is left almost completely paralyzed, the movie has a pro-life message about the value and dignity of every human person. Jean-Dominique Bauby — who earns the title “hero” in this movie — literally blinks out his memoirs with his only remaining mode of communication: his left eye. Funny, unsentimental, thoughtful, and beautifully made film.

3. 3:10 to Yuma – Excellent movie-movie that elevates its genre thanks to commanding lead performances from two of the best working actors today: Russell Crowe and Christian Bale. (Think of this as a twisted buddy movie.) It’s as reliably well made as a sturdy old armchair, with a well-crafted script, sharp supporting cast, great music, and a story that carries the same moral weight of the greatest Westerns of decades past. Ben Wade was the bad guy to beat until Bardem showed up with a cattle gun and a Prince Valiant haircut.

4. The Bourne Ultimatum – Like 3:10, the Bourne series has demonstrated genre filmmaking at its finest—smart, relentlessly paced action movies with an engaging hero and a healthy dose of political paranoia. The fun of the franchise is watching Bourne’s brain race as fast as his feet. His brilliant improvisations are mental as well as physical gymnastics. In every movie he’s had worthy adversaries: Chris Cooper, Joan Allen, Brian Cox, David Strathairn, and finally Albert Finney.

5. Zodiac – Underrated movie from notorious perfectionist, director David Fincher (Fight Club, Seven). One of the best police procedurals I’ve ever seen has Fincher following the labyrinthine investigation into the “Zodiac” killings over the course of 20 years, encompassing a huge cast of characters. Nimble, intelligent storytelling—the nearly 3 hour running time breezes by, though your head may hurt a little from trying to process the mounting pile of clues, leads, and red herrings. Fincher assumes his audience is smart, not dumb—that’s a rarity in Hollywood these days.

6. Gone Baby Gone – From director Ben Affleck comes one of the most thought-provoking movies of the year…? Not words I ever expected to write. In adapting Dennis Lehane’s novel, Affleck shows a facility with actors (including Oscar-nominated Amy Ryan and his truly talented younger bro, Casey), as well as a feel for the atmosphere of his native Boston. A seedy, tough-going, rough-around-the-edges movie that nonetheless is thoughtful, almost contemplative. The ending is a humdinger: watch it with a group of your smartest friends and let the conversation begin.

7. Ratatouille – The first five of six on the list are reminders that many of 07’s best movies also happened to be grim, violent explorations of humanity’s dark side (Diving Bell was a glimmer of hope). So this came as a refreshing blast of haute cuisine-scented air. A witty and imaginative tale of a rat that wants to be a chef (sort of like a pig that wants to be a sheepdog), Ratatouille benefits from its clever Oscar-nominated script, eye-popping visuals, inventive sight gags (such as a kitchen armed fully by rat chefs), and spot-on vocal performances—especially the great Peter O’Toole as supercilious restaurant critic, Anton Ego. (The other memorable villain of the year named “Anton”.)

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