It used to be a regular occurrence… something that happened almost all the time. These days? Not so much.
Once, you would go to the movies and give yourself over to
what it was that was shown on that silver screen in front of you. You were
comfortably and consistently in the hands of the world’s finest filmmakers; men
(they were almost exclusively of the male gender) whose professionalism and
artistry remain unquestioned even after over a half century has passed. Movie giants
Michael Curtiz, John Ford, Frank Capra, Alfred Hitchcock, Arthur Freed, David
O. Selznick, Preston Sturges, Darryl F. Zanuck, Howard Hawks, and George Cukor
held sway over the motion picture industry.
It has been a long
time since such giants ruled the world of cinema but now, happily, along comes
Christopher Nolan and his presentation of Oppenheimer.
The Regal South Beach multiplex in Miami Beach is far from
the cinema palaces of my youth. The projection and color quality of the digital
on-screen images fall far short of what my one-time associates will see at
screenings held at the Samuel Goldwyn Academy theatre in Beverly Hills; and
yet… minutes into this movie… my inner voice of complaints stopped. The
inferior projection system, and the incompetency of local theatre management,
slipped away from the forefront of my mind as it was immediately clear I was in
the hands of the kind of competence and artistry on which I was once able to
rely. Something that is all too rare in today’s movie going experience.
The cast is extraordinary. Cillian Murphy and Robert Downey
Jr. are shoo-ins as nominees for Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor, but you
could pick any of the players on this film’s marquee and swoon. I will indulge
a point of personal privilege by singling out my pal, Tom Conti, as Albert
Einstein. My friend is a handsome, leading man type (alright, maybe today, the
father of the leading man). How do you even imagine him in this role? And yet
he is perfect. Then there is Matt Damon, a current cinema super star, in a well-down-the-list
supporting role along with Rami Malek, the star of Bohemian Rhapsody and
Mr. Robot, with just a few minutes of screen time.
This kind of imaginative and upscale casting speaks volumes
about the filmmaker. That these performers… plus dozens of others who I have
not singled out… would take the phone call and say, “yes… when do you want me
and where do I show up?” It says something about the man who made this movie.
This used to be the way it was in the good old days. Gone
With The Wind, Wuthering Heights, Goodbye Mr. Chips, Stagecoach, The Wizard of
Oz, Gunga Din, The Women, Of Mice and Men, Ninotchka, and Mr. Smith Goes
to Washington were all made in the same year.
Thirty-five years later Godfather II, Chinatown, and
Blazing Saddles highlighted a stellar Academy season. Does anyone even
remember the five nominated feature films from last year?
Is the movie Oppenheimer long? Yes. And yet, I do not
recall a single squirm. Is it for everyone? Probably not. Does it help that I
had long ago seen two seasons of AMC’s Manhattan, a very good television
series on the same subject now available on Apple TV, and that I more
recently viewed the very fine documentary, To End All War: Oppenheimer &
the Atomic Bomb (I saw it on MSNBC, and it is also available on Peacock,
Hulu, and Sling)? Sure.
Do I go on too long? Let me reduce the review of Oppenheimer
to one word: brilliant.
Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer is complex. It is
smart. It is important, and it is… well… in a word, brilliant. Cannot say that
enough. Check back with me at Oscar time.
… And now, for something completely different, there is Barbie.
Readers of these notes might guess that this is not the sort of cinema to which
I would normally gravitate. Understandable.
Still, I was fascinated by the fact of audiences all over
America going to their local theatres and seeing both this film and Oppenheimer
in something approaching a phenomenon called Barbenheimer… sort of
an homage to yesteryear and the days of the double feature brought about by
incredible promotion and advertising campaigns for two movies with the same
release date.
Do you really want to do these back-to-back? That is a lot
of sitting… even for the most sedentary. Still, there is merit to the idea. After
viewing Oppenheimer, I felt I wanted more… that I could use a “chaser”…
and something light and amusing might be just the ticket.
I quelled the impulse and waited until the next day to try
out the nation’s biggest box-office bonanza.
Back in the day, there was an unwritten rule that fluff
films should be one hour and twenty-nine minutes in length. Sometimes a Capra,
a Hawks, or a Sturgis would go to one hour and thirty-two (His Girl Friday),
or one hour and thirty-four (Lady Eve)… or stretch it to one hour and thirty-five
(It Happened One Night). Ms. Greta Gerwig outstays her welcome by making
her Barbie one hour and fifty-four minutes long. A big mistake.
This film has some delightful things in it. A standout
performance by Margot Robbie and very good support from Ryan Gosling, Kate
McKinnon, America Ferrera, and Rhea Perlman, but just like the over-the-top
appearance of Will Ferrell as Mattel’s CEO, it is a bit too much of what
otherwise might have been a very good thing.
The opening of the movie is great fun. A very cute homage to
2001: A Space Odyssey. And the last line of dialogue at the very end is
spot on. I, of course, enjoyed the movie’s feminist screed (what
self-respecting Cagney & Lacey-ite would not?) but Greta… you made
the skirt too long.
Cut twenty-five minutes from this movie (sorry, Ken) and you
just might have a classic.
I risk going on too long myself. This week marked my first
venture back into a movie theatre since COVID. Soon there will be at least one
more note on the movie going “experience.”
Stay tuned. Bring your popcorn.
Barney Rosenzweig
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